I arrived in Camocim after a crazy adventure arriving from Acarau via Jijoca. After catching a few shut eyes, I went down to the fishing docks to try to find a fisherman willingly to take me through the mangroves to look for seahorses. I decided my best bet was to go to the fishing colony and talk to someone there. Well wouldn’t you know but I managed to see the Fishing President Javier, who was really excited to have a foreign research right there in Camocim! Although the time was perfect for the tide to go to research, Javier insisted we start the next day. So I succumbed to Brazilian culture and said ok, let’s go tomorrow. However Javier told me there was an American in town that came in a sailboat and told me he would introduce me tomorrow. I couldn’t believe it! Another American! Crazy! In little ‘ole Camocim. How exciting.
So with the whole day ahead of me, I began to amble the streets of Camocim, which is secretly a bigger place than you would have thought. I am accustomed to my research towns having one main road with several cross streets but Camocim is an entirely other story. I still am not sure if I have found the main road yet. And it is a 10 minute hike from my pousada to the street near the ocean. It’s another 10 minute walk in the other direction to the bus station and about a 15 minute walk to the post office! Holy moly! All in basically a downtown area with cross streets and blocks and houses and shops and buildilngs! On the Camocim map, it says it even has different neighborhoods- the centro, the beira mar, boa esperança, brasilian, sao pedro and many more! Camocim has about 8,000 people and the strongest winds coming off the sand dunes and across the river that would rival 50 mph gusts!
On my little jaunt around Camocim, some guy called out of a house I was walking by asking if I was Brasilian. For some reason, I stopped and said no, and engaged in a conversation. Turns out he works for the military police and he invited me into his sister’s house to meet the family. Then after conversing some more and hearing his theory on US politics (aka George Bush is his HERO), he invited me to dinner with the family. They had stingray stew, beans, rice, pasta, farofa, potatoes you know all the Brazilian starches you could desire with your stingray stew. I met several drunken cousins, who over the next few days, constantly shouted out my name whenever I passed them on the street, met several kids whose names I don’t remember, and a few brothers, sisters and the guy’s wife. All the while one of the kids kept playing on repeat on the cd-player, the “all the single ladies” song, but sung by Alvin and the chipmunks. What a strange first night in Camocim.
Camocim Take 2!
Day 2 in Camocim proved to be just as strange as day 1. I went down to the fishing colony and arranged to go out with my fishermen later that morning. President Javier then took me to where the other American was staying to make friends. Enter Chuck (whose name has been changed because due to the fact that one never knows who reads a blog), 40-something ship-wrecked American, with no passport and no understanding of Portuguese who is stranded in Camocim, of all places. Chuck left Long Island 7 months ago, with plans to sail his boat from the east-coast to the west-coast by way of going around the horn of Africa, past Australia and up to California (naturally.) But apparently Chuck hit some bad luck, he hit every forming hurricane that was coming off Africa, lost his dinghy, his engines died, and he broke his mast. I think that’s some tragic times for a sailor. Anyway after this happened, kind of around Fernando de Noronha, he tried to hit the current that would take him around South America down near Argentina, to Chile and then back up to California, however he started drifting backwards. He drifted backwards for about 1 week and started drifting into the Sargasso Sea. Apparenltly he shot off some flares trying to signal boats, got 2 to stop but nobody would help him. One day he said he looked at the GPS and he was 1 mile closer to South America than the day before. Each day after that he kept gaining more miles towards South America and apparently he was out of the Sargasso Sea Currents (which I think are currently off the Caribbean islands in the middle of Atlantic that just go around in a circle.) Anyway he tried to aim towards Fortaleza, but he said there were too many reefs in the way. Next he came up to the coast of Camocim, and all he saw was sand dunes. He thought he had found a desert with no people. Then after almost crashing on sand banks and rocks close to Camocim, a fisherman named Gianni sailed out to get him and help bring him and his boat safely into the harbor. Wow! What a story huh?
And it turns out he wasn’t planning on stopping anywhere, so he didn’t bring a passport. So now he is in Brazil, without a passport, and clearly, without a visa. I can only imagine the fuss this is causing in Fortaleza. Brazilians like everything to go according to the book. It’s even written on the flag, “order & progress”…but order first. Oh my! I’m so glad I’m not him, remembering my experiences with the Federal Police.
So I asked Chuck how long he’d had his boat etc, and he is originally from Montana and never sailed a day in his life until he bought this boat 7 years ago. He had some very wild stories and is a very vocally avid supporter of GW Bush. Wild stories include: Chuck selling grain to Chinese people in San Francisco for $10 a pound, then getting wind that the Chinese were then selling it in China for $1000 a pound and Chuck went down to Chinatown to have a little chat with some middlemen. His conclusion: he barely escaped with his life. Then he had another wild story about living in Alaska and living with a female Native American in her village until he tried to stake a claim to some land for future prospecting and it got him kicked out of her house and the village. He also had wild stories of hiding cases of beer and gallons of oil in the Alaskan wilderness under the snow, which he plans to go back for someday. Chuck builds mining equipment or that was his job until as he puts it “the Obama administration put him out of work.” One of Chuck’s favorite sayings, “if you can’t grow it, mine it!” I must have heard that expression 10 times in our afternoon together. Chuck also has plans to go to the Antarctic and take mineral samples because when the Antarctic Mining Treaty expires in 2040, he wants to be ready to get rich! “If you can’t grow it, mine it!”
My afternoon with Chuck was mesmorizing. On the one hand, I was in awe of what he had done with his boat, how he had survived and how he had in a very Gilligan’s Island type of way found himself shipwrecked in Camocim. However, a great deal of the things that came out of his mouth regarding his opinions of life in America, his Freedom as an American, his American rights, and politics, were absolutely horrifying to me. “I am an American, and I have my right to Freedom. How dare these Brazilians tell me how to live my life.” I kid you not. I wanted to shake him and say wake up Chuck! You are IN BRAZIL. While in Brazil, you need to abide by their rules. NOSSA! (that is a completely brazilian expression of exasperation coming from me.) I guess Chuck has been interviewed on tv, although I’m not sure if just in Brazil or also in the US, so he told me he didn’t go looking to be famous, he just is. hmm... ok.
It was a surreal experience hanging out with him for the afternoon. But watch out Camocim, Chuck is looking to stay. He already talked to me about wanting to set up a metal shop here in Camocim and make some money off these people……… (seriously? He is in a poor coastal town in Brazil!). Sigh, what an adventure he will have in Brazil. He told me he could get deported at any time, and if that happens he will lose his boat because his boat isn’t working and he can’t drive it out of Camocim. Therefore he’d have to abandon his boat, and if you leave a boat for more than 7 days, it becomes up for grabs…and for sure it would be grabbed by people in Camocim. So if he gets word he is going to be deported, watch out ocean, Chuck and his tank of a boat with no engine and no mast may head back to sea!
As if the craziness with Chuck wasn't enough of a story for Camocim. On my second day of research in Camocim, I had a Brazilian snafu. I was out with Fernando, a local fishermen in his boat, which had a small engine, on the back. Perhaps the emphasis in that statement should be the HAD. So we had motored for about 1 hour, down wind to a small little inlet to the estuary to hunt for seahorses. However, as soon as we entered the inlet it became really shallow. Unfortunately Fernando was not as familiar with the bottom topography as we all had hoped, and 2 minutes after entering the inlet, the engine got caught in the shallow sand and ripped right off the back of the boat. And sank. While I did a transect in the area, Fernando and his son tried to recover the engine and see if it could work. Unfortunately the engine did not start = bad news for us. 1 hour by motor from Camocim, down wind, now against the current. Great. Break out the paddles.
Fernando said not to worry he would make a sail and we would sail back. Right. I'm sorry do you have a spare sail and mast on this tiny boat? I think not. Resourceful Fernando chopped down 10-15 big mangrove branches, stuck them in a hole in one of the seat benches on the boat, and said ok, let's go sailing. It was so tragic that my camera had died and I do not have a picture of this ridiculous sail. I have to give him credit though. It kind of worked. Two hours later, we arrived back in Camocim with the sail and also with some intense paddling. I can't believe tying mangroves together and sticking it in basically a large canoe makes it act like sailboat sail. Only in Camocim. Only in Camocim.
I finished up my research and put Camocim to rest without any further ridiculousness. What a wacky way to finish up field research. Mangrove sailing and crazy ship-wrecked americans. Camocim, you are one for the books!
I traveled by bus from Salta to Cafeyette in an effort to wine taste in the northern most part of Argentina's Napa Valley. The bus ride held spectacular views throughout the 4 hour journey, through the Quebrada de Cafeyette aka possibly the Sedona Arizona of Argentina.
So the last photo above was taken by my friend from the bus. Amazing no? Anyway after four hours of bus journey-ing through the desert we began to arrive at an oasis.........of vineyards! 
The abrupt change in scenary was surprising and my spirits soared after months in Brasil without drinking hardly a drop of wine. (sidenote: Brasil is not known for its wine. Remember that. Do not be so foolish as to order a glass of wine while in Brazil during dinner. It will not be delicious.) 
After my self-imposed hiatus from drinking wine, the beautiful vineyards and wine tasting rooms of Cafeyette were the charming and welcoming relief my palette desired. 
Cafeyette was such an amazing little town, it even had an ice cream shop that sold wine flavored ice creams. My friend and I can be seen below eating a cabernet ice cream and a torrontes ice cream. YUM!!!
The local finest: llama meat, slow cooked over an open fire for 12 hours, some veggies and a delicious bottle of Terraza's Cabernet Sauvignon. What a deliciously amazing place! 
I had to go to Argentina for a conference, to present the research I had done on seahorses while in Brazil. Since I had used all my Fulbright travel money, I had to pay on my own to go to the conference and get to Argentina. Because I was paying my own way I decided I might as well travel and see a bit of Argentina as well. The cheapest way to get to Argentina from Northeast Brazil turned out to be flying to Iguassu Falls and then crossing into Argentina by border. I had an old friend traveling with me - so my crazy adventures this time involved a co-conspirator! 
Ready to go! Yeah baby! White water rafting! OH did I mention the water was freezing!!! yes even during the Argentinian summer time! brr!! 
Another awesome highlight from Salta was finding an amazing restaurant and trying the local wine, torrones, which turned out to be amazing. We spent many hours while-ing away the time over a scrabble board with a nice bottle of wine.
I have been hanging out in Acarau doing research in a tiny village called Corral Velho. It is right next to the mangroves, has an amazing education center and little pousada for researchers, and provides a good source of income for a small community. As I was getting to know some of the staff that work at the little research station here, one of them told me that she makes yogurt every night for the school children. Yogurt, I thought. She makes yogurt? And to me that is amazing. So as you may know, I am not much of a farm girl, and the concept of making yogurt each night is a strange one to me. Especially making enough yogurt for a local school....so not just a little yogurt. A LOT of yogurt. She invited me to tag along and I happily agreed.
