Amazon Riverboat Adventure

On our second day in Brazil, I left for my Amazon Riverboat adventure trip. I was in group D with 30 other people, but there were also 3 other groups of 30 who were on different riverboats. We arrived that night to a brightly lit, colorfully decorated, double-decker boat that was waiting for us to board. The bottom deck had a small kitchen, 2 bathrooms, and a few tables. The top deck was lined with hammocks for us to sleep on.

We were greeted by a woman who told us to call her “Lou Lou.” As the program leader, she was thrilled to have us there, especially since SAS has been doing this trip for over 20 years. She introduced us to the crew members who would be cooking our meals and the tour guides who would be teaching us about their native land. We also met two Brazilian dancers who were there to entertain us during dinner. They were dressed in their native clothing, which wasn’t much. Their performance was great. After a delicious meal, the dancers left, and we headed up to our hammocks for bed. Once our boat left the shore and we started sailing, one by one, everyone started to fall asleep. I knew this because it immediately became an orchestra of different snores. Luckily, I was jet lagged from all the traveling, so I had no trouble falling asleep… despite the loud snoring that seemed to be coming from every direction.





The next morning, I woke up feeling surprisingly well rested. Although some people didn’t think so, I thought the hammocks were extremely comfortable. I also don’t get sea sick so I loved the way that the waves rocked me right to sleep. Either way, it was the first time we were seeing the Amazon during the day so no one was complaining. It’s crazy how many times I’ve been on boats this semester. I hope I never take for granted the feeling of going to sleep in one place and waking up to a completely new scene. This trip was particularly special because our boat was so small and open. We didn’t have air conditioning to block out the sound of birds or shaded windows to keep out the natural sunlight. When we pulled up to shore, we could practically reach out and touch the tree branches.

We ate our breakfast while the boat pulled up to shore and then we headed out into the jungle for a hike. On our hike, we saw different plants and trees, as well as spiders, ants, and mosquitoes. Some of the plants and insects were poisonous, while others were okay to touch or eat. However, it was hard to differentiate between what was safe and what was dangerous because our tour guides had a sense of humor and found it hilarious to trick us. It was also difficult to hear them if we were in the back of the line. They would pass back a plant and someone would say, “You can eat this.” But then one of the tour guides would burst out laughing and say, “No that’s poisonous! It will stop your heart and kill you almost immediately!” Our guide would laugh and laugh, while we just stood there sort of dumbfounded. Someone should explain to them where to draw the line between what is appropriate to joke about and what is not. I think a good rule of thumb is if it’s a matter of life and death, you don’t joke. But that’s just my opinion.







After a few hours of trekking through the jungle we each had enough mosquito bites to play connect the dots on our bodies. I swear people’s bug bites were starting to look like constellations—I saw a row of bites on someone’s arm that looked like Orion’s belt. Let’s just hope those malaria pills did their jobs because the mosquitoes obviously weren’t scared off by the DEET we’d sprayed all over our bodies. Unfortunately, the expensive, cancer-causing DEET seemed to only scare away other humans who could practically taste the bug spray every time they came close to you. The only upside was that the DEET masked the body odor I’m sure we all had after a full day of traveling on buses and planes, a night of sleeping on hammocks while floating down a river, and a day of hiking through a jungle—all without showering. Did I mention that at this point we aren’t even halfway through the trip?




Later that day, we met up with another group and went swimming in the river. (I should probably clarify now that the river I’ve been talking about is the Negro River, not the Amazon River.) After, we took a small wooden boat to a local village where we visited a man who makes the wooden boats. We watched him for a few minutes and then went over to the elementary school where we were given a tour. It goes without saying that I spent hours chasing the little kids around, trying to talk to them in Spanish. (Yes, I know they speak Portuguese… And yes, I quickly realized that the languages are not as similar as I had thought… Or more likely, my Spanish was not as good as I had thought.) Lucky for everyone, I stopped trying to communicate with the kids when I was asked to play soccer, a trip tradition. We played a pretty serious match—SAS women vs. Brazilian women. Even though some of the Brazilian women were not as young or as fit as us, and none of them were wearing shoes, they had some pretty fancy footwork and put up a good fight. But for reasons other than my own contributions, (apparently my 6th grade soccer skills didn’t come back to me as fast I would’ve hoped) the American team won for the first time in 9 years!








When we got back to the beach where our ship was docked, there was a barbeque waiting for us. Soon after, fireworks started going off. After dinner, we went alligator hunting. I’ll save you from getting your hopes up now… we never caught anything. But I have to mention what an awesome jungle badass my guide was—standing barefoot on the front of our small wooden boat, chopping away with his machete to clear the stray branches… even scratching his back with his knife—all while making special noises to attract the alligators. I’m not sure what I was more afraid of—the alligators or the knife that my guide kept swinging awfully close to my face.
The next morning, we went Piranha fishing off of the small wooden boats. Luckily, someone did catch one… And it was pretty big too! We each took turns holding it by the string and looking at its teeth. (I think it might have been one of the fish we were served at dinner that night, but I’m trying not to think about it.) After, we visited another village and learned how they make their special flour, a staple ingredient to their community.






The last thing we did on the riverboats was visit the “Meeting of the Waters.” This is the point where the Amazon River and the Negro River meet. You can actually see the line where they touch, but don’t mix together. The Amazon River is a dirty-looking, light brown color, while the Negro River is a much clearer dark blue. Not only are they completely different colors, but they also differ in temperature, velocity, and pH—a phenomena beyond my comprehension.




We left our riverboat and met up with the other groups. Luckily, we were one of the only groups who hadn’t gotten sick. And I mean deathly sick… throwing up for 10 hours straight. Before we all headed to the airport, they had a party for us with music and Brazilian dance performers. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be in the mood for this. Several people were sick, all of us were tired, and most of us hadn’t showered in 3 days… We were ready to go back to the ship. However, part of me didn’t want to leave, knowing it was the last time I’d be off the ship before heading home to Ft. Lauderdale.

Salvador, Brazil

The last port we visited was Salvador, Brazil. It was weird knowing that it would be our last time getting off the ship in a new place before Fort Lauderdale. We had all become so used to the pre-port meetings, the diplomatic briefings, and the entire process of going through immigration and customs before disembarking the ship. And yet, no matter how many times we went through this tedious process, we never became jaded to the feeling of stepping off the ship and into an entirely new country and in some cases, like Brazil, an entirely new continent.

Brazil was no different. We arrived at the port on April 21st to a country that we had studied about in our classes, but were anxious to see for ourselves. Our first encounter was with some drummers and dancers who were there to welcome us. This only confirmed what we already knew about Brazil’s passion for music and dance. We made our way out of the port and out onto the sidewalk where we walked for a few minutes until we reached a huge marketplace. We had to walk though a marketplace, cross a busy street, and take a paid elevator ride in order to get to the rest of the city. (We were told that it was possible to take a cab there and it was safer to do so at night, but during the day this was the cheapest and easiest way to go.)



I got off the elevator and looked out over the waterfront and marketplace. The view of the different boats and ships docked at the edge of the city was one that would never get old. I was trying my best to take in all the little things that were part of our trip—things that I wouldn’t be able to experience in a few weeks. I walked out of the elevator and into the upper area of the city. There were old, beautifully designed buildings that looked almost European. We walked down the small cobblestone streets where people were eating lunch outside of cafes and coming in and out of boutiques. We could see women in banana skirts and brightly colored clothing. We could smell the food that was being cooked in the restaurants. But the thing that took over our senses the most was the sound of the music that was being played almost everywhere we turned. Whether it was coming from the radio of a small café or the instrument of a street performer, the sounds seeped through every wall and every window, and vibrated throughout the entire city.






The people were beautiful and friendly as usual. They walked with pride and confidence. You could tell the women were comfortable with their bodies. We noticed this when we went to the beach later that day and saw women of all shapes and sizes in tiny Brazilian bikinis that hardly hid any part of their bodies. The men were no different, wearing nothing but tiny Speedos, regardless of their age or body type. (It was probably the best I’d ever felt in a bathing suit.) Even though it was raining a little bit, we could still take in the beautiful scene of the ocean and the people. The rain actually made it nice because the beach wasn’t too crowded—a complete contrast from the Ghanaian beach we were at the week before.





However, what made this beach similar to the one in Ghana was the restaurant set up. In both Ghana and Brazil, we sat at on casual outdoor tables with plastic chairs and an umbrella over our head. In both places we had waiters who would bring us menus and run back and forth to the kitchen to bring us our food. In Ghana, we were sitting fairly close to where the food was being made, but in Brazil we couldn’t even see where the food was coming from, especially with all the umbrellas everywhere. Our waiter didn’t seem to speak very good English, so we were always surprised when he came back with everything we had ordered.

The only time we things got lost in translation was when I tried to order ice cream. I pointed to word “ice cream” on the menu, but he didn’t seem to recognize it, even though it was written in English on the menu. In an attempt to help him understand, my friends and I kept saying “chocolate” and “vanilla.” He gestured to us that he understood and then quickly left the table. A few seconds later, we looked away from the beach and up onto the main road, where we saw him running (literally sprinting) down the street. I didn’t want to believe that he was running to get our food, but sure enough, a few minutes later, he came back with about 5 different types of chocolate bars. At this point I didn’t even care about the ice cream, I just couldn’t believe he had run all the way to the store and back to get us our food. I wondered if he had done this at any other point in the meal. Never has any waiter in the United States ever run down the street to get me something in the middle of my meal. Needless to say, we gave him a big tip.



That night we went out dancing. Since it would be my only night in Salvador (my Amazon trip was the next day) I knew that I had to experience the dancing of Brazil. It lived up to all my expectations. Women moved their hips in ways I didn’t even think were possible. And both men and women danced until they were dripping with sweat. It was quite a workout and us Americans could hardly keep up. Everyone was laughing and the music just took over our bodies. If I ever have the chance to visit Brazil again, I want to spend more time dancing. I’d love to try all the different styles and learn more of the moves. The music and dance in Brazil is truly captivating.

Unfortunately, on a negative note, a lot of people were mugged in Brazil, especially on our first night in Salvador. Thankfully, I was never mugged, but a large number of my shipmates were. It didn’t just happen at night or to people who were walking alone. It happened to several people during the day when they were walking in groups. People had necklaces ripped off them and cameras taken right out of the hands. Unlike the other countries where people were pick pocketed without even noticing, many of the muggers were aggressive and occasionally hurt the person they were mugging. It is so unfortunate that this had to happen because it made so many of us afraid.

I have to say, it was one of the only times I ever felt afraid on the trip. Each of the other times had been because I was in a bad area, it was late at night, or I was wearing or carrying something that made me stand out as a tourist. This was different because it seemed like there was nothing you could do to protect yourself. After that first day, I heard that people stopped taking anything with them. They tucked money in their underwear or bras and didn’t even bring their cameras. This could have been partly because they had nothing left to bring because it was stolen, but most likely it was because it wasn’t even worth the risk. I imagine it must have been a bummer not to be able to take pictures.

Despite the immense amount of muggings, I did not let this taint my impression of Salvador or of Brazil as a whole. It is a beautiful and vivacious place where attractive people and talented musicians illuminate the streets with an atmosphere of creativity and excitement. We learned that the level of happiness was the highest of all the countries we visited and even to a tourist who was only there for a short time, this joy was apparent.

Waterfalls & Mona Monkey Village Visit

After our hike on Afadjato Mountain, we walked (thankfully on flat land) about an hour to the Wli Waterfalls. They were definitely the highest waterfalls I’d ever been to and they looked especially beautiful because there was a huge rainbow going through them. We got to swim for a little while, which felt great after how hot we had been on our hike. Everyone really enjoyed themselves at the waterfalls. I only wish we had more time to stay. Unfortunately, we had an hour walk back to the village and a few hour bus ride to the hotel.

The hotel we stayed that night was really nice. (How SAS manages to find these diamonds in the rough, I have no idea.) The next morning, we visited another village that is well known for its Mona monkeys. These monkeys are considered sacred to the village and there is a huge effort to keep them and their habitats safe from harm. We didn’t just get to see the monkeys though, we got to feed them bananas right out of our hands! The best part is that we didn’t even have to peel them, the monkeys did it themselves! It always amazes me how monkeys can have such human-like mannerisms.

After playing with the monkeys, we took a walk though the village. We got to see some of the homes and meet some of the people who lived there. Of course I was off playing with kids while they talked about some of the specific details of the homes. Next, saw the elementary school and got to talk to some of the kids who went there. It was neat to see that many of the kids carried their books or buckets of water on their heads. Although they didn't balance them quite as well (most used their hands), it was neat to see this popular act starting at such a young age.
After visiting with the people in the village, we headed back to the ship. On our way back, our bus pulled over so we could walk across the Adome Bridge instead of just driving over it like we had on our way there. The Adome bridge crosses over the Volta River. We also stopped to see the Akosombo Dam, which is just south of the Adome bridge. Later that afternoon we arrived back to the ship where we spent our last night in Ghana.

Another port behind us, only one more to go… Off to Brazil!

Afadjato Mountain

On our second day in Ghana I left for my Volta Eco-Adventure trip. The first destination of our trip was Afadjato Mountain, the highest point in Ghana. But what road trip in a foreign country would be complete without stopping to use the restroom? Of course I had to be the one to ask our bus driver to stop since our tour guide seemed to have no intention of doing so. (I swear he wasn’t going to let us pull over until someone actually had an accident.) From the time that we asked our bus driver to pull over to the time that he actually stopped seemed like forever, so I figured that the place we were stopping had to be decent. Unfortunately, I could not be more wrong.

We pulled up to a roofless building at the edge of the main road, which was really just a tiled area surrounded by low-standing walls with signs for men and women. Inside the divided area for women there was nothing that resembled a toilet or even a hole in the ground. Instead, there was a ledge that slanted down into an area along the perimeter of the room. This would maybe make sense if there was water flowing through the outer edge, but something about peeing onto a tile floor just didn’t seem right. Not to mention, that the men in the area next to us and I’d bet the people on the bus, could most likely see straight into our “bathroom.”
On that note, I walked out of the bathroom (if you even want to call it that), turned to my tour guide, and said, “Ya know I’d be pretty content with just peeing in those bushes over there if it’s okay with you.” It was at this point that I’m pretty sure I shattered any dreams he had of American women being perfectly ladylike because he was looking at me like he was a little appalled. So I took that as a “no” and decided I should just use the tile floor and embrace the experience with some of the other girls. I’m not sure if this is what all of the bathrooms are like in the rural areas, but if it is, I’d really encourage them to reconsider the good old outdoor thing, it makes much more sense.

I apologize if it seems like I go into major detail about something as little as an experience of using a public bathroom. However, it is these small experiences that really contribute to the trip in a big way. Not only does it completely desensitize you to any discussion of bathrooms or bodily functions, but it automatically creates a bonding experience among you and your travel mates. Trust me when I say that peeing on a tile floor is the least of what I’ve seen and experienced in my travels. And my shipmates would all agree with me when I say that there is no such thing as privacy or too much information anymore… we have all gotten a little too comfortable with each other. Anyway, moving on...

We finally arrived at Afadjato Mountain for our hike around late morning. We asked our tour guide how long it would take us to reach the top and he said that at the most it would take us 45 minutes. I didn’t think this was possible until I realized that we would be climbing vertically for almost the entire hike. I knew this because every time I stood straight up, I could feel the weight of my backpack pulling me backward. (I could picture the domino effect that this would ensue on the 20 people that were following directly behind me.) I would not have brought my backpack if it wasn’t for the fact that SAS terrifies us into keeping our stuff with us at all times and make it very clear that they are not responsible if we lose our stuff, including our passports, which would prohibit us from finishing the voyage. My logic was that if my parents found out I wasn’t able to finish the voyage and get credit for my courses, I might as well fall down the mountain, because I was going to be dead anyway.

Luckily, the trip up the mountain went pretty quickly since my tour guide didn’t believe in taking any breaks. I was beginning to see a trend… no bathroom breaks, no hiking breaks, etc… So I shouldn’t have been surprised when there seemed to be no plan in breaking for lunch. At this point I was wondering if I accidentally signed up for fat camp because it was beginning to feel like he was intentionally starving us. Until we drove to a village where we were given a little rabbit sized sandwich that we were supposed to eat on our walk to the waterfalls. Either he was pressed for time or this really was an attempt to make us lose weight. Thankfully I bought a bag of cookies from a lady in the village and gave my tour guide a look as if to say, “Yea that’s right, we American women also like to eat... Got a problem?”