Wednesday, June 8, 2022

Manaus

Wednesday 8th June 1988

A commotion awoke me at 05:00 hrs. People were untying their hammocks and scrobbling with their baggage. A lot of lights were visible on the bank. We had reached Manaus. We tied up alongside another riverboat which stunk of oil and went ashore after the initial mad rush to get off the boat had subsided.

The sky was lightening as we walked through the dockside market which was setting up in preparation for the days business. After a hike up and down the Rua Joaquim Nabuco we settled for the Hotel Rio Branco on the Rua dos Andradas. Joaquim Aurélio Barreto Nabuco de Araújo (19th August 1849 to 17th January 1910) was a Brazilian writer, statesman, and a leading voice in the abolitionist movement of his country.

Mike, Marlene and I got a clean airy triple room with a private bathroom for 1,500 Cruzados. We had the hotel breakfast of bread and very sweet coffee and then eagerly showered. We called for Frederick who was staying at a more expensive hotel and had fruit juices and hamburgers in a popular bar opposite the Colégio Einstein de Manaus on 7 de Setembro.

This common road name is based on the Independence Day of Brazil (Portuguese: Dia da Independência), commonly called Sete de Setembro (Seventh of September), which is a national holiday observed in Brazil on 7 September of every year. The date celebrates Brazil's Declaration of Independence from the United Kingdom of Portugal, Brazil and the Algarves on 7th September 1822.

Children scampered about in their white college vests playing games and squabbling. We walked across the lively town in the 33°C heat of the Amazonian region that we were in. The sun blazed down and we kept to the shadows as much as possible.

At the Post Restante at the Post Office I was delighted to get six letters. We had some iced caipirinha cocktails in a bar by the quaint old market sheds. We then browsed around the market looking at exotic fruit, nylon and electronic goods, strong-smelling meat, grain and what appeared to be charms and ingredients for voodoo or black magic.

Do you know that Brazilians worldwide do not give their picture to anyone or someone they do not know personally? They believe that photos can be used for inflicting pain or causing harm on them because, in the ritual of Macumba, the Macumbera practices this when asked to cause a pain spell or cast a black magic spell for killing. That means the Macumbera requires a picture or photo of the person on whom the other person wants to inflict or bring upon pain, misery, death, or ill luck. Unlike other countries worldwide, Brazilians practice different forms and types of magic and voodoo.

Lots of spirits in the form of deities are also worshipped in Brazil, and black magic is performed in front of these deities, with offerings ranging from small chicken’s blood to that of a man’s flesh being given. It is believed that the spirit of these deities would help the person performing the ritual become pleased.

Some of the most frightening and shocking rituals are performed by Brazilian witch doctors. They might include killing small animals, killing infants, or making small toddlers gobble up items that should not be eaten.

Amidst the squalor was a Yellow Fever Vaccination Post mounted on an upturned crate. We took a bus to the Museu do Índio which admitted us for 50 Cruzados but warned us that there was no light. The Museu do Índio in Manaus is the biggest and well detailed museums on the indigenous residents of Brazil.

Run by a convent of Salesian Sisters, the museum is spread over 6 rooms and does a fantastic job of presenting the social hierarchy and culture of the Indians. Their hunting gear, clothes, ritual paraphernalia, and photographs, etc. are just some of the artifacts that help the visitors to take you back in time and help you understand what life was like in the olden times.

There was sufficient light to see the collection of pots, hammocks, drums, weapons, ceremonial knick knacks and canoes of the Amazonian tribes. There were also photographs and a few insects on display, including some fist-sized stag beetles.

We waited for a rain shower to pass before walking back to the city centre, passing poor wooden houses perched on stilts over stagnant tributaries to the river. Manaus lies along the north bank of the Negro River, 11 miles (18 kilometres) above that river’s influx into the Amazon River.

I went to the KLM Airline Office on Avenida Japurá to ask about flights home from Caracas. They had to work through their main office in Rio de Janeiro by telephone so they said that they would contact my hotel tomorrow with the information.

I walked back down the busy but uninspiring Rua Getúlio Vargas to the hotel where Mike and Marlene were just emerging from a siesta. Incidentally, Getúlio Dornelles Vargas, also known by his initials GV and nicknamed "the Father of the Poor", was a Brazilian lawyer and politician who served as the 14th and 17th president of Brazil, from 1930 to 1945 and from 1951 to 1954.

I spent a happy half hour reading my mail from home and then caught up with writing my diary while the ceiling fan fought to keep the steamy heat at bay. A refreshing shower served to cool me down and then we went out for a meal.

An Israeli lad called Jem joined us and took us to a restaurant at 497 Rua Joaquim Nabuco with propeller bladed fans overhead and animal hides and snake skins on the wall. Bottles were arranged on the shelves behind the bar like a Western saloon.

We had a huge portion of river fish with more rice, beans and salad than we could eat. A couple of cold Antarctica beers also went down a treat. We were tired from the boat trip and headed back to the hotel fairly early, stopping at a bar for some mineral water. The bar was really lively with amicable drunkards, both locals and travellers.

Back at the hotel on soft beds, not hammocks, for a change, we were soon asleep.

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