A funeral and a car wash carnaval melting-pot

When I was writing about a wedding and four baptisms, I recalled the film, ‘Four Weddings and a Funeral’, and thought to myself - I’m glad there hasn’t been a funeral to write about as well. Sadly, like a bad penny, it turned up.

Yesterday about 8 a.m., near Sitio Serragem, Ivonete’s uncle’s 17 year old grandson Cicero was killed. Apparently a bull had gone into the lake and Cicero’s horse followed with him on it. He shouted to his friends, “I can’t swim,” as he fell into the water. These were his last words. Unfortunately his friends couldn’t resuscitate him. It's suspected he died of heart failure.

He was due to go to school in Serra Talhada that afternoon and it was very moving to see his school friends walk to the hospital mortuary to say their last goodbye in silent acceptance. It was also very sad to see his mother arrive on foot. At first she contained her grief, then cascading tears betrayed her dignity, as she wished she could have wakened up from this nightmare.

Twenty-four hours after the accident poor Cicero was buried in the small, overcrowded, graveyard in Pelo Sinal.

This photo, taken three years ago,
is of Luan our nephew, a bull and its owner
near where Cicero lived.

In the past, Ivonete has commented, why don’t you write good things about Brasil instead of tarantulas and other horrible things? Of course she has a point as there are so many beautiful things to tell you about. Unfortunately ignoring the less pleasant does not reflect life’s reality.

Our clean truck in our garage!

On a different note, I took the truck to get washed at the local Lava Jato yesterday morning and collected it three hours later. Four men, mostly related to one another, were still hand-polishing it. In Scotland this would be a fairly formal affair. In Brasil, it was a festa! They were talking loudly, cracking jokes and telling tales. They were prancing around as if on hot coals. That’s what makes life here so fascinating – it is a Carnaval – rhythmic chaos.

For me it was a bit disconcerting. They asked how long I had been in Serra Talhada. I told them only a few months and we chatted and joked. The man who said he was a 'black man' seemed surprised when I said in a couple of years my skin would be the same colour. He shook his head and said he was born like that and continued, "You were born white and you will stay white. You’ll never be like me." I could not accept this view. I shook my head indicating, "No, I am just the same as you." After all we are all Jock Thamson's bairns.

The other lads quietened down in embarrassment and in the difficult silence an equally black lad translated our unspoken thoughts, “We’re all brothers of course – there isn't any difference (in Portuguese).” So we all smiled. shook hands, and shared a genuine sense of 'melting-pot' 'alegria' (happiness).

The eclipse, a genealogy lesson, one wedding and four baptisms!

At the weekend we went to a wedding and baptism in Pelo Sinal. Travelling north from Serra Talhada into the hills we drove past the Instituto de Pesquisas Agronômicas (IPA) (1) experimental agricultural station, which has strong research links with Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew (2).

Beyond there, driving was more difficult. It was a tortuous experience, even with our 4x4 truck. During the rainy season the sandy dirt-track is flooded with water and it becomes deeply scarred with mini-gorges and rivulets. As the dirt-track ascends into the hills it gets very rocky and treacherous.

Rocky road at Sitio Serragem (with bull) - view from the truck

We arrived ninety minutes later at Ivonete’s Dad’s farm Sitio Serragem (Sawdust farm). Normally this journey takes only half that time.

To get to Pelo Sinal you have to pass through Extrema - a Pernambucana ‘one horse town’. It is a very small village, of 60 or so inhabitants, with a row of eight to ten one-storey houses set on each of the three sides of a square and an oversized church lording over all on the fourth side. Most of Extrema lies within Pernambuco but the most northerly row of houses straddles the Paraiba border.

Extrema, Pernambuco - showing the church and houses on the North side

Extrema - showing part of the street on the South side of the church

A couple of kilometres farther on is Pelo Sinal. These hill villages definitely create a time-warp. You are immediately set apart in time from the rest of the world. Two tired cowboys on two tired horses drive tired cattle into the square – no it’s not an illusion! That's the reality of this Sertấonese ‘two horse town’!

Meeting, greeting and some pre-wedding drinks

After a few drinks of Pitu and a meal with close family, we move on to one of the six bars in Pelo Sinal, four of which are next door to each other! Pitu, a sugar-cane spirit costs less than 70 pence a litre and a lager-type beer costs 50p or less for a 660 ml bottle! Teachers whisky is a little dearer at less than £6 a litre.

People are very welcoming and curious as to why the Scotsman has ended up in their midst!! They are eager to shake hands and exchange a few words. “Fala Ingles por favor.” (“Speak English please.”). “One – two – three - four - ......” Children gather round in curiosity to look at and prod the white-headed stranger who is either an 'alma' (ghost) or who is descended from another planet of another solar system. We have been to Pelo Sinal many times before but we have never spent more than an hour or two visiting close family. Hence the interest.

Then, the excitement in the centre of the square! “Come, look at the moon. It’s an eclipse!” (in Portuguese). I understood ‘look’, ’moon’, and ‘eclipse’ and went. It was an amazing sight. The southern sky was clear and only started to become hazy during the final stages. Great excitement. Boa amizade! (Good friendship). In one instance native differences melted into insignificance. We were united into the greater family of mankind.

Time passed and we ‘blethered’ (a Scots word for ‘talked’) at length. I discovered that most, if not all' of the people who live here, and in Extrema, are related to each other. To explain, Ivonete’s grandfather Joaquim Dino married again after Ivonete’s grandmother died. Ivonete reckons there are a lot more than 230 people in the living family tree.

So that was a gentle introduction for what was to follow on Sunday. The church wedding of Ivonete's cousin Monica and Deda, who had previously married in a registry office, and the baptism of their three year old son Francimagno. Monica was also godmother to two of the other three babies being baptised.

Deda and Monica's wedding


Monica, Francimagno, Deda, Ivonete and Richard

To be part of this extended family is a rich experience. Perhaps I’ll write more about them later. Meanwhile, I’ll leave you with a photo taken at Extrema recently.

Only one person in the photo, the lady in the top left, is not a family member.

This could be an excellent place for genealogical research – any bidders? Contact me by email (3) if you are interested and I'll do my best to help.

(1) Instituto de Pesquisas Agronômicas (IPA): http://www.ipa.br/

(2) Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew - Plantas do Nordeste (PNE): http://www.rbgkew.org.uk/scihort/tropamerica/pne.htm

(3) Cut and paste our email address: rismcgill@oi.com.br

First Impressions: giant butterfly; baby snake & lizard; and tarantulas!

Giant butterfly

This butterfly came into our house and revisited us a few days later – looking somewhat storm-worn.

I’m not actually sure if it’s a butterfly or a moth. Please tell me what it is if you know!! Locals say if it comes into your house you are going to hear about a death. ??? !!!!

Baby snake & lizard

Some days later, in the same bathroom where the butterfly landed, a little snake, only 10 cm long, tied itself in knots wriggling and squirming across the slippery ceramic floor. Likewise, a very tiny lizard sought sanctuary below the sink. Both met a swift end when our housekeeper spotted them.

Tarantulas

Recently, we observed three of these massive, hairy, black tarantulas at close range near, at and in our house!! Each appeared to be at least 15 cm across and about 10 cm high. Here they are appropriately called ‘caranguejos’ (crabs).

I cannot find a photo exactly like the jet-black
ones we have seen but this one is similar.

It wasn't a pleasant experience to view this first thing in the morning, cowering in a corner under the bathroom sink, close to where I had been standing with bare feet a few minutes earlier!

I am told they are relatively harmless. The sting is similar to that of a bee. The hairs are used as the basis of itching powder. They don’t have a brain but instead have two clumps of neurones.

As they can move at a great speed, the most common method of disposal is to spray them with alcohol and set them on fire. Quite a cruel death – I think.

Ivonete’s advice is to always check below, behind and inside the toilet before you sit down!! She remembers one crawling out of the water…………. ………..!!!!

Enough said !!