Farsighted Fly Girl

June officially opens the summer season in Chicago and that means a schedule packed with street festivals, outdoor cafes and of course, the beach. I don't know what it is but whenever the weather turns balmy, my thoughts turn to Brazil.  Memories of salty air swirling over my skin, sipping fresh cashew juice and samba beats vibrating through the air, keep running through my mind. For me, nothing captures the energy of Brazil like the music so I've been listening to one of my favorite Brazilian artists, Ceu.  Her name means sky in Portuguese and her easy blend of bossa nova, African rhythms and jazz stylings recalls the the dreamy blue Brazilian sky I remember, pictured above. Check out her video for "Malemolencia" below. What's your soundtrack for the summer?

Long, cold winters are a Chicago hallmark.  I know it's only February but technically, there're three more freezing months to go. It doesn't really start to warm up consistently until June. So this is the time that I start my winter dreams of tropical escapes.  Cachoeira, a charming, small colonial town in Bahia, Brazil is where I long to be. Perched on the banks of Rio Paraguacu, Cachoeira is filled with cobblestone streets and warm people. Cachoeira means waterfall in Portuguese and the whole time I was there, soft sprinkles of intermittent raindrops fell. I thought the rain added to the languorous, mystical feel of the place. Of course, the fact that I visited a candomble house high in the hills of Cachoeira, might have contributed to that feeling.  I took the postcard perfect photo above while I was standing on top of a hill, gazing down at the lush beauty.  I wish I could be surrounded by all that  lavish greenery now. What are your winter dreams?

I've never been a fan of shopping as a travel activity. Generally, I'm quite allergic to shopping malls, department stores and the special hell that's called warehouse clubs. I don't experience any pleasure from wading through mounds of generic, mass produced merchandise and I despise it even more in another country. If it isn't distinctive and doesn't reflect the nuances of the culture, what's the point? You can probably buy it anywhere. Now an outdoor market, on the other hand, offers the sights and sounds of a particular country as well as the experience of bargaining and bartering. Once in the Dominican Republic, a vendor admired my husband's yellow polo shirt and he exchanged it for an ebony sculpture. Whenever I look at that sculpture, I remember the story of how we gained it. In Bahia, the vibrant culture shines through everything, including the Mercado Modelo. From the capoeiristas chanting and kicking outside, to the smell of sea and moqueca w...

I think the term "shop til you drop" was created with Bahia's Mercado Modelo in mind. Over 300 handicraft stalls cram three levels, along with a colorful collection of bars and restaurants. Although the Mercado is filled with authentic Bahian culture, from baianas selling acaraje , to capoeira performed at the entrance, the place was clearly created for tourists. So it you're like me and can't stand to go near any silly tourist traps, don't pass up the Mercado. You'll have to haggle and the sheer number of souvenirs, along with huge crowds and echoing noise is overwhelming but its worth the experience. The paintings reveal a riot of vivid colors and talent. Most of the vendors aren't aggressive and you can browse without being harassed. I think it helped that I was mistaken for a local Baiana, even though my Portuguese is horrifying. I haggled for two small orixa paintings that now hang triumphantly in my hallway. For music and instrument fans, there...

Brazilian creativity is legendary, fresh ideas and innovations just seem to flow with the ease of samba on a sunny day. So you think Brazilians would speak on ordinary public phones? Please. Brazilian phone booths are called orelhao (big ear) because of the function and rounded shape but they hardly resemble anything close to a boring, old phone. In Bahia, I was excited to see phone booths looking like big, green apples but that wasn't all. Some perched on corners in the form of gigantic swans. Others beckoned with the bright petals of the sunflower. Or the imposing beauty of the rose. And this duck character, I can't explain who he is, probably the cooler, more stylish (check out the carefully coordinated hat) cousin of Daffy.

It's often said that there's no line between the sacred and the profane in Brazilian culture and I really witnessed that when I shopped there. It didn't matter if I was perusing a beach side vendor's cart, a stylish Rio boutique or a cluttered airport shop, there were always kitschy examples of the candomble religion. Most of the T-shirts, magnets, statues and paintings that I saw were splashed with images of the candomble orixas, or deities. Iemanja's mermaid tail waved on dozens of blue t-shirts and tiny sculptures of Oxossi brandishing his bow filled the shelves of many stores. I suppose this is similar to crosses and rosaries flaunted as fashion statements in the U.S. but it threw me off balance. These trinkets are clearly designed for tourists but was it crass or disrespectful to buy souvenirs that display a religion that you don't belong to? I've seen lunchboxes decorated with Krishna, the Hindu deity and hoodies embroidered with Tibetan prayer flags ...

I said I'd explore the complexities of candomble in earlier posts and here it is, finally. I'll admit, I've been avoiding this for as long as possible because there are so many layers and meanings and opinions attached to this religion that I just don't know where to begin. So I'll begin with my personal experience. On a late June night, in the small southern Brazilian town of Vassouras, I was invited to a candomble ceremony for the feast of San Juan. We drove down some roads and up some hills with only the moon lighting the way. Faintly, we heard the echos of drumming. We climbed down some stairs, past blooming bushes and I saw a huge bonfire. Men were holding large drums over them, tuning the instruments with flames. A tiny altar with flowers and a statue of San Juan stood under a small shack. The men sat down, joined by adolescent boys. They began drumming in a swirl of intricate rhythms A groups of women, clad in long white gowns and head wraps, moved in a circl...

Salvador, Bahia grabs the heart of any visitor and never releases it. Even when I was in Rio, American tourists urged me to visit Salvador if I wanted to see the real Brazil. It's true, Salvador boasts charm and visual treats that you can't find in any other place in the world. I think it's all that history crammed into one place. Salvador was Brazil's first capitol and it boasts so many historical monuments, places and people that you can literally visit one every five minutes. Great destinations always seem to attract a fair share of tourist traps, however. I thought the famed Mercado Modelo was filled with vendors hustling a load of mostly overpriced junk. The picturesque Pelourinho Square brims with addicts and pick pockets. So my favorite Salvador memories focus on slightly less touristy activities: 1. Eating Mocqueca at Iemanja Restaurant. Acraraje might be Salavador's quintessential snack food but Mocqueca is the ultimate of Bahian cuisine. A smooth, creamy...

As I writer, I 've developed an ear for language. I love to soak in speech cadences and the rhythms of different dialects. Although I've heard lots of Portuguese crooned from my tons of Brazilian, Cape Verdean and a few Portuguese Cd's, I wasn't ready for what I heard in Brazil. I felt like I was pushed into this world that lured me in with familiar Latin words and then shut me down with crazy interpretations. I pride myself on grasping enough of a culture so that I can blend in fairly quickly. Brazilians embraced me first as a Rio C arioca and then as a Salvador Baiana but I felt like a fake as soon as I opened my mouth. My brain couldn't process the sounds of the words and my mouth couldn't spit them out. Nothing made sense to me and I felt mentally crippled more than a few times. It might be a cliche but one thing about Brazilians is that they are genuinely warm and free-spirited. Even though my speech sounded like a clunky blend of grammar school Spanish t...

I journeyed to Rio during the Brazilian winter. This means that I didn't witness any actual nude sunbathing or glimpse the notorious Copacabana dental-flossed behinds. It also means that I didn't get to see Carnaval. Instead, I saw the half-mile expanse of the Sambadrome, empty of all the Carnaval crowds and clutter. Without the samba schools dancing and the floats rolling by, the space still seemed to vibrate with the energy left behind. There's nothing really spectacular about the Sambadrome itself, it's just a road flanked by spectator stands. But when I walked a few feet down the road, it was easy to imagine the seats filled with 65,000 screaming cariocas. You can see Rio's sweeping mountains dotted with favelas straight ahead. Off to the side, there's a small store bursting with the sequins and feathers of Carnaval costumes. You can buy or rent the costumes and I tried on a sparkly pink and orange confection. Marching down the Sambadrome with my feathers r...

Filled with cobblestone streets, colonial architecture and historic landmarks on about every block, Salvador reflects the true heart of Brazilian culture. When I stepped upon the sunny streets of Salvador for the first time, the difference between urbane Southern cities like Rio was palpable. The air is filled with the fragrance of guavas, mangoes and acaraje sold on the streets. Baianas navigate the winding avenues and squares with a more languorous pace. The cobalt blue water of the Bay of All Saints wraps around the city and blows a feeling of tranquility over everything. Salvador is sometimes called the Black Rome and it's easy to figure out why. The city boasts 72 Catholic churches, there appears to be one on every block. But candomble, the practice of Catholicism mixed with African deities and rituals is the true focus. Figures of Imemanja, the popular goddess of the sea, pop up on restaurants and in a house dedicated to her along the Bay. T-shirts and figures in the ...

As I bustled past street vendors selling coconut candy bars and the sleek, shiny-haired, hotties that fill Rio streets, I realized that I missed something. I couldn't put my finger on what exactly. When I neared the the orgy of beauty called Copacabana Beach, observing the languid motions of skimpily-clad cariocas strolling in the sand, it hit me. There was supposed to be a samba soundtrack to all of these scenes! How can you have a true Brazilian experience without samba as the backdrop? I needed to hear some live Brazilian rhythms! It happened to be a Sunday when I made my proclamation and my guide Da'vid didn't look too confident about it. It seems that most musicians take Sundays off in Rio. There I was, in the party capitol of the universe and it stops on Sunday? It didn't make much sense to me so we headed to the famous bohemian district of Lapa. Overflowing with street hustlers and artists of all stripes, Lapa does not close down. Built in the 18th century and m...

Brazilian culture overflows with rich African cultural connections and in Bahia, you can taste as well as see it . I explored classic Brazilian dishes spiced with African influences in a post for Galavanting Magazine's travel blog here but I didn't explain the depth of the Nigerian influence on acaraje. Eating acaraje is practically a legal requirement when you visit Salvador. In London, you must nibble fish and chips, dripping with grease and wrapped in paper. In Jamaica, you must savor ackee and saltfish cooled with sea breezes. And in Salvador, you must buy acaraje from a Baiana de acaraje , on the cobble-stoned streets with samba rhythms blasting through the air. Acaraje is a black-eyed pea fritter fried in palm oil. Typically, it's cut in half and topped with caruru, an okra stew, vatapa a mixture blended with dried shrimp, cashews, peanuts and coconut milk and a salad made of chopped tomatoes and onions. Peppery and laden with fat, it is the quintessential Brazil...

If you've heard of Brazil, you've heard of samba. Most people have glimpsed photos or scenes from Brazilian Carnaval, with sexy revelers festooned with a feather or two, writhing to samba rhythms. But what exactly, is samba? I always thought it was a music genre but I discovered that it's music, dance, and so much more, at Santo Amaro's House of Samba. Stepping into the terraced building that also holds a studio and performance space, before you can even get to the samba exhibits, the altars of seven saints loom. Like all African art forms, samba does not separate the spiritual from the mundane. The heavy percussion of samba beats derive from candomble music used for sacred ceremonies. Statues of Saints Lazarus, Joan, Barbara, Bonfim, Anthony, Roue, and the Portuguese twin Saints(! ) Cosme and Daniel, line the first wall of the Samba House. The corresponding colors for the candomble orishas or deities, adorn the background of each altar. The beads representing the or...