The Worst In Men

I always feel connected to the places I’ve visited and today I woke up to an article on CNN about the trial of a former Khmer Rouge leader in Cambodia - http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/asiapcf/03/29/cambodia.tribunal/index.html. Kaing Guek Eav, known as Duch, is 66 years old, a former math teacher and a born-again Christian. When the Khmer Rouge was in power, he led S-21, a high school that had been converted into a prison, and became the largest center of detention and torture in Cambodia. From 1975 to 1979, over 17,000 detainees passed through it, but only 12 survived. The place is now the Tuol Sleng Museum and is one of the most somber places you will ever visit in your life. Some of the first exhibits are former classrooms where detainees were chained to iron beds, bloodstains seen on the floor to this day. On the walls are photos of prisoners as they were found in those rooms when Vietnamese forces liberated the country. It’s clear that all of them had been viciously tortured. Overall, it’s estimated that between 1.4 and 2 million Cambodians died during the Khmer Rouge regime either from executions, starvation or disease. That’s equivalent to 20% to 30% of the population at the time.

The numbers are staggering, but the most vivid impression that Tuol Sleng leaves on you is the savagery. The Khmer Rouge was a paranoid and self-serving regime that wanted to cling to power at any cost and used cruel methods to purge anyone thought to be against their dogmas. To learn more about this heinous regime, go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khmer_Rouge. Their brutality crippled Cambodia for years, and the scars can be seen to this day, from the overall poor standard of living to countless amputees and elderly who carry on their faces signs of the horrors that they saw. Kaing Guek Eav is the first Khmer Rouge leader to stand trial and hopefully this will start to bring justice and closure to the country. Cambodians are an admirable people - they have seen the worst of humanity but that hasn’t hardened them; they are some of friendliest people I’ve met. And my hope is that one day when I go back, the country will have fully left behind the ordeals of the past 35 years.

Engulfed by Sand

February 2009

After Canoa Quebrada, we headed to Jericoacoara on the coast northwest of Fortaleza, known as Sunset Coast. Jericoacoara became a national park in 2002, and the village, nicknamed Jeri, has only 5 streets and a population of about 3,000. Jeri is probably the most secluded beach in the state, and in some aspects, has retained traits of the fishing village it once was: there are no roads to Jeri, the streets remain unpaved, there’s no ATM, there’s still no street lighting even though electricity reached the village in 1998 and you may still wake up to a toad croaking at your doorstep (not to worry, terrified ladies, they don't bite).

Getting to Jeri is not easy – the paved road ends 12 miles (20 km) away, and from there it’s a one-hour ride through dirt roads and sand paths. The greenest way to get to Jeri is to leave your car in Jijoca, the closest town, and hop on the back of a truck for the bumpy ride. And bumpy it is: potholes abound, kids throw up, your body is constantly thrown against the sides of the truck so much so that one of the passengers said that she’d rather work for free than take this ride daily. And now you’re thinking: why is she recommending this ride from hell?! Here’s why: we arrived on the last day of carnival and there were dozens of cars in the village. Besides the inevitable jams in a place so small, it was absolutely dreadful to have to navigate the streets through countless cars and their fumes. It took away some of the character of the place. Once carnival was over and most of the cars were gone, Jeri was transformed and its idyllic qualities just mushroomed. The new mayor has plans to ban cars from the village and I’m all for it.

Jeri has been named one of the 10 best beaches in the world by The Washington Post and Globe Trekker and it’s easy to see why. Jeri has a tropical climate with temperatures ranging from 72F (22C) to 95F (35C) year round, and boasts stunning scenery of countless dunes interspersed by lagoons. The most frequented dune, called Sunset, is right at the southern end of the main beach where dozens of people gather at the end of the day. Activities abound: sandboarding, surf, windsurfing, kitesurfing, horse riding, and buggy rides, the most popular of all.

There is quite a number of tours that you can take by buggy in the region and if you get a skilled driver, you won’t get stuck in sand. We took a trip to Tatajuba, 11 miles (18 km) away through beaches, rivers, mangroves and dunes. Tatajuba has an interesting story – a number of years ago, the town had to relocate because it was being taken over by dunes, some of which can move 100 feet (30 meters) per year. The town now sits near the tallest dune in the region - Enchanted Dune, standing at 260 feet (80 m). The dune is so big that it doesn't move and got this name because locals think there's something special about it - some claim to see blinking lights in the sky around it occasionally (cue Twilight Zone theme).

Tatajuba is how Jeri looked a decade ago: a fishing village where some of the houses are not even plastered. There are just a handful of guesthouses now, but word is that foreigners are already buying land so Tatajuba may become the new Jeri in a few years. The biggest draw in town is the lagoon, where you can pick a fish from the day’s catch for lunch, then laze the afternoon away in one of the hammocks above the water. Doesn’t get any more heavenly than that.

So what next? I don’t know. My travels tend to have accidental themes, and the one this year seems to relate to sand (desert in Jordan, dunes in Brazil). Maybe I’ll finally visit the Namibian dunes. But only time will tell…

Faking It

February 2009

We were in Brazil the week of carnival, which is celebrated differently in each part of the country. In Rio, there’s the samba parade; in Salvador, huge trucks with music performers on board cruise the streets followed by countless dancing foliões, as carnival revelers are called; in a city called Rosário in northern Brazil, the highlight is a contest where the best costumed donkey and cart win a highly coveted prize – a 21-inch TV. Canoa Quebrada didn’t have much of a carnival, but the neighboring town, Majorlandia, was the epicenter of all celebrations in the region: a stage was set up in the main area in town and throngs of foliões kept jumping to the sound of music. Now, I’m a rock & roll gal, samba is not my thing and, to be honest, those hopping foliões looked just like a bunch of deranged kangaroos to me…

But carnival always has its surprises – one night we were having dinner and heard a band further down the street playing not only samba, but several other Brazilian rhythms such as baião, forró, axé and frevo. They were playing very well and when we went to check them out, we found out that all band members were Scandinavian! Yet another Twilight Zone moment. Even more bizarre, there were half a dozen Scandinavian women dancing samba. I’ll say this upfront: I can’t dance samba; I can only fake it. And the Scandinavian gals were also faking it. But I have to admit - those milky white blond things were faking it better than I ever could…

Vampires on Broadway

February 2009

Still pale as ghosts, we headed to the coast southeast of Fortaleza, known as Sunrise Coast. Our main destination was Canoa Quebrada, which translates as Broken Canoe. It used to be a fishing village and had no electricity until the 1990s, but is now one of the most popular beaches in Ceará. I was greeted with a Twilight Zone moment when I got there…a bunch of scantily clad people parading in front of a symbol of Islam?! I’m sure that my fellow Broken Canoers don’t have a clue that the symbol they chose for their town – the crescent moon and star – is an unofficial symbol of Islam. So hopefully this won’t end in a jihad.

The most distinctive features of Canoa Quebrada are falésias, steep reddish sand cliffs that rise from the beach, tall enough to be used as launch pads by paragliders. Along their flanks on the beach, fishermen park their jangadas (one-sail vessel typical of the Brazilian northeast) and barracas (oversized stalls) offer food, drinks, music and occasionally a late night beach party. Most barracas try to make life easier for foreigners and have menus in both Portuguese and English, although it may take a foreigner a while to figure out that “Fish In Tile” is actually grilled fish. And if you think Canoa Quebrada is just a place for beach bums who want to get a tan while having beer with fish or shrimp, think again. Besides paragliding, the strong winds that blow from July to December are perfect for wind and kitesurfing.

In yet another bout of “gringuice”, I forgot how strong sun in the tropics can be: you can actually get sunburned even when the sun is not fully out. Of course we forgot all about it and on our first morning there, we went for a stroll on the beach and didn’t put sunblock because it was partially cloudy. By the end of the day, my husband looked like a roasted red pepper and I looked like I had shrimp on my shoulders. The following day, pepper and shrimp were so sunburned that we spent the day scurrying from shade to shade along Broadway, the main street, like two Nosferatus on fire.

Only one thing made me get out in the sun that day: half a dozen donkeys grazing on an isolated beach. Most were wary of us when we approached, but one was curious and she actually took to me after I gave her a rub at the base of her neck. Next thing I knew, she was nesting her head against my hip. At that moment, I had an epiphany: I could have a career as a donkey whisperer…

Homeland Gringa

February 2009

I confess I felt a bit like a gringa when I landed in Fortaleza on this last trip. For starters, I had to constantly remind myself that I was supposed to speak Portuguese, and it took me about a day to stop greeting people in English. As I looked around, I felt even more like a gringa - I didn’t have a tan and my northern winter pallor stuck out like a sore thumb. Then my outfit… I wasn’t wearing tennis shoes and socks to the beach, but I definitely didn’t have Havaianas like everyone else. And before any of my compatriots throw stones at me for my Havaianaslessness, here’s the reason: Havaianas are perfect for normal feet; mine unfortunately are as flat as a duck’s and the Havaianas-flat feet combination is just painful when I’m on my feet for 9+ hours a day. So far, I’ve found only one beach sandal that makes my feet happy all day – Merrell. It hugs my feet so snugly that it feels like walking on clouds. The only problem is that it has countless straps and since I spend the whole day outdoors when on vacation, my feet get tanned but the skin under the straps doesn’t. And now my feet look like maniacal zebras…

But on other things I fit right back in. I went straight for my favorite drink, something I miss a lot in NY – coconut water. And before anyone says that there is coconut water in the US too, I’ll say, yes, there is…it comes in a can, usually with added sugar. The one in Brazil comes right off the fruit – punch a hole, throw a straw in and that’s it. Doesn’t get any more natural than this.

I chose the northeastern state of Ceará because it reputedly has some of the best beaches in Brazil. The capital Fortaleza was founded by the Dutch in the 17th century and is now the 5th largest city in the country with a population of 2.5 million. It has the typical problems of a metropolis: pollution, hectic traffic and petty theft – not as bad as Rio, but locals kept warning us, “gringos”, to watch out for pickpockets as we photographed around the city.

The most popular beach in Fortaleza is Praia do Futuro, on the eastern part of town. Several beach clubs have taken over stretches of sand, offering food, drinks, chairs and beach umbrellas. The fancier is Croco Beach where you also find a kiddie pool and water slide, a sauna, an ATM, a beauty salon, a massage parlor, the inevitable gift shop and a stage for occasional shows. It’s perfect for families, but unless you like stumbling over endless beach bums and plastic chairs on your way to the water, you’re better off somewhere less crowded. Just watch out for pickpockets.

I’m not into seafood, but there’s one thing in Fortaleza I thought was pretty cool and a must for seafood lovers: the fish market at the eastern end of Avenida Beira-Mar. You pick your shrimp (R$15-30/kg or $2.80-5.70/lb), take it to the makeshift kitchen on the corner and they’ll fry it for you. You can then sit at one of the little tables on the sand and watch waves come and go while savoring your fresh appetizer. Doesn’t get any sweeter than this.