The Policia Federal is NOT my friend

I had the unfortunate pleasure of registering with the Policia Federal this week.

As a foreigner (estrangeiro), if you plan to stay for a long time in Brazil you have to register with the Policia Federal within 30 days of arrival. I waited until day 25 thinking that, as per my instructions from the Brazilian Consulate in DC, all I had to do was hand them a piece of paper and voilah, I was registered. Seeing as though this blog entry is entitled the Policia Federal is NOT my friend, you may have surmised that things did not go quite as planned.

Policia Federal Day 1: I take a bus from the pousada that drops me off at the central Policia Federal building around 8 AM. I wander inside only to be told that the visa processing center has just changed locations and is now at a different address. Not so bad, I think to myself, at least I got off the bus at the right spot this time. (sidenote: my success on taking the right bus to the right place has been about 50%. Sometimes I wind up exactly where I need to be and other times….well I’m far off the beaten path.) I manage to flag down a taxi at a busy interchange and I give him the new address. Thankfully it is not that far.

I arrive at the Policia Federal around 8:15 AM. There is already a waiting room full of people. I walk up to the woman at the information desk and inquire about the registration process. She says that I need to take a number and wait in line. I ask for a number and she responds that she is not giving them out yet. Hmm…this seems quite odd to me but I sit down and 30 minutes later she starts handing out numbers. She begins by asking the first foreigner who arrived to stand and gives him ticket number one, this proceeds until we get to me and I am foreigner number 13. Sweet, I think 13. With all the people in the waiting room I could have been number 60. Whew! Shouldn’t be too bad right?

WRONG. Three hours later, she announces “ESTRANGEIRO NUMERO 13.” I jump up and anxiously cross the threshold behind the glass doors that leads to the insides of the Policia Federal. I hand the officer my papers, he looks at them and says, “There is a crease in these. I cannot accept them. You must re-register and come back again.” Then after a pause, “and you better do it soon because your 30 days is almost up and we are closed on the weekend.” Bottom line: because my papers had a fold in them, I waited 3 hours to be told to come back tomorrow with the following items: 2 copies of 2 different pages in my passport, 2 three by 4 cm photos of me NOT smiling, two copies of my registration papers, $200 reais (is this a bribe?), AND a notorized copy from the US embassy stating the names of my parents because this is where the fold in my papers occurs. RIDICULOUS.

The Police give me the address of the US embassy and the bad news that the embassy is only open from 8 am until 12 pm. The time now: 11:30 AM. I quickly hop in a taxi, being very thankful I am able to flag one down and hit the US embassy at 11:45 AM. Now as you can imagine, I am somewhat flustered at this point. My chilled out relaxed pace of life has just been altered by the time constraints of the US embassy and my 30 day limit imposed by the Policia Federal. I am imagining though, that when I arrive at the US embassy it will be like walking into a safe haven. A familiar place in a foreign land, where people not only speak your language, but are willing to bend over backwards for you, and help you navigate the difficulties of life in Brazil. Yes perhaps this view was misguided in hindsight. My reality of the US embassy was also a rude awakening. I arrive and a woman in her 50’s who looks every bit Brazilian but at least speaks English demands $30 US dollars first to register me with the US embassy in Fortaleza before she can do anything to help me. Sigh- back to the reality of America, everything has its price. BUT another bad thing about this day, I only left with a small amount of money, casually grabbing a $50 reais bill before heading out the door. I was only dropping off a piece of paper right? How much money could I possibly need? So the conversion of $30 USD to Brazilian reais means, this woman is asking for $57 reais. And I have 58 in my wallet; If I pay her, I am out of money and I have no idea where the US embassy is located in relation to my pousada but my instinct is not very close. I tell the woman I am running out of money and she would literally take my last penny. I ask if there is a bus that goes by my pousada thinking I could scrounge up the 2 reais needed for a bus ride, BUT let’s remember my success rate with buses, 50%, and with this woman taking my last 57 reais, there can be no room for error in taking the wrong bus. I decide to risk it; I hand over 57 reais, leaving me with only 1 reais aka US 60 cents in my possession. The US embassy then becomes my friend, within 10 minutes I have my piece of paper documenting my parents’ names, bus recommendations and a local place to get photocopies. I manage to get the photocopies and find a place for my 3 x 4 cm pictures but by the time I return to the pousada in the afternoon I am disheartened by all that is Brazilian. The only highlight of the day is that I have heard from the Brazilian Environment Department and they want to meet with me tomorrow at 2:30 pm to talk about my research.

Policia Federal Day 2: I wake up early the next day with the goal in mind to be the first estrangeiro at the Policia Federal so I can get in and get out quickly. I arrive at the Policia Federal at 7:15 AM and find out my good idea of getting there early, wasn’t quite as brilliant as I hoped. There were already about 15 people waiting in line. I inspect each of them closely trying to determine if they are foreigners or local Brazilians in an effort to guess my number in the estrangeiro line.

Unfortunately my efforts to get there early, didn’t matter in the end as the process for entering the Policia Federal and getting numbers was different than the other day. At 8 am when the doors officially opened a Policeman walked to the gate and started speaking. Me and everyone else who were not at the front couldn’t hear, and a mad rush ensued towards the front of the line to try to understand what was going on. Turns out the officer was handing out numbers. I manage to wiggle my way up to the front and I wound up with number 10. Estrangeiro number 10, sweet, this will definitely save me at least an hour right? WRONG. 5 hours later, 13:00 my number is finally called.

Quirky observations of other foreigners in the Policia Federal while trying to pass my 5 hours in the waiting room:

1) There are 6 high school aged Americans from Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints. Sadly it took me a while to figure out why they all had the same first name: Elder. Yes they were wearing nametags. And Yes I sheepishly know now why they all had the same first name.

2) These kids are “befriended” by a dodgy Nigerian, who had an amazing sob story about what he was doing in Brazil and how he was trying to get into the US. Yes these kids actually exchanged phone numbers with him.

3) The dodgy Nigerian then moved onto other unsuspecting people telling an equally amazing and equally different sob story. Hmmm…I wonder what his real deal was.

4) An older Canadian man has decided to tell me his life story, which begins with his recent divorce and his inferred reason for being in Brazil, aghem to meet some Brazilian lady friends. The guy screams creepy old man.

5) A forty year old Italian midget who speaks a little English decides he fancies me. He is a writer from Milan. He tells me he is here to be inspired for his next novel, and with an unsubtle wink hints in broken English he may have found it here at the Police Station.

6) The Brazilian equivalent of Good Morning America is based around a female talk show host and a life sized parrot puppet. Today’s health and beauty topic is on foot massages. I am partially torn between humor and horror as I watch the female host give the fake bird a foot massage. Is this really what Brazilians watch on tv in the morning?

Ok back to the registration process. So 5 hours later my number gets called, I leap for joy and once again cross the threshold into the room where things actually happen. The officer looks at my papers and then asks, “who told you, you could register here?” My initial thoughts: what? No one told me I could register here. It just says register with the Policia Federal. This place is the Policia Federal, how could I be in the wrong place, especially after 5 hours…I tell him I don’t understand his questions. He rephrases, “Your sponsor is in Joao Pessoa you need to register there. And then….or this Fulbright Institution…. it is in Sao Paulo, maybe you need to register there.” I try to explain I am working in Ceara, and not in these other places, so it makes sense for me to register here. Meanwhile I am thinking you lazy s.o.b just register me already. He then decides he needs to take this matter to his boss, who is conveniently out for lunch, so please return in an hour at 2:15 pm. I try to explain that I have a meeting with the Brazilian environment department at 2:30 and could I at least use the phone. His response: an unfriendly no.

Thankfully the environment department is close to the Policia Federal. I head towards this place, in the hot Brazilian sun, desperately thinking well at least I have enough time to find the building, call her from reception and leave a message that I might be late due to unforeseen circumstances at the Policia Federal. I find the environment department, IBAMA, and the security guard won’t let me in because the woman I am there to see is out to lunch. Sigh, I then ask if I can call her to leave a message. He also says no. Then reaching a new level of frustration I desperately plead to leave a note and he agrees. So in flustered, frantic Portuguese, I try to write this woman whom I have never met, who I need to make a good first impression with, that I may not be able to make our meeting but there’s a chance I will but if not maybe we can meet next week? Who knows if that message actually gets across, but the note gets left and I head back to the Policia Federal.

The head honcho of the Policia Federal must have had a good lunch, because when I get back, I am seen quickly, and he agrees to register me in Fortaleza. YES! YES! YES! I could almost jump up and kiss this man. 90 minutes later at 3:30 I finally walk out of the Policia Federal with my registration completed. Rest assured, it is official: I am a temporary visitor of Brazil.

Whew. Congrats if you stayed with the blog all throughout that story. It was exhausting just to rehash it all. After I registered I went back to IBAMA, met with the woman, and unfortunately only understood about 40% of what she said because I was so exhausted from the 2 days of Policia Federal. I think she suggested I work with another woman who is also doing research on seahorses. I think she also suggested I meet with this woman next week, or I might go with this woman into the field next week, or maybe this woman is out of town next week. Sigh, I’m just not sure. So next week has turned into now and I have another meeting with IBAMA soon, so stay tuned. I’m hoping I’ll have a better understanding of what actually happened at my meetings and whether or not I have permits and their support of my research in a day or two.

Field Training

Field research is basically the same in any country. Food, water, transportation, fuel, research assistance, and shelter all go through the mind of a researcher when planning a trip to the field. For me, these are the things I'm worrying about as I look to begin my research in the next month. I worry about transportation; how to get there- am I renting a car, hiring someone to drive me? How will I move from study site to study site? In my case, do I need to rent a boat and possibly supply fuel- if so how much fuel should be brought and how can it be transported so it doesn't spill everywhere along the way? Shelter: Where am I going to sleep/stay while conducting research? Am I camping in the middle of a field (please God no), staying at a research station or renting a local house? With shelter comes food and water. Do I need to bring food to eat? Will I make it myself or is there someone to make it for me? How much food should I bring- is one bag of rice enough for four people for four days? or do I need two? What about potable water? Is the water safe to drink? Can I buy water there? Or do I need to bring enough wih me? And finally, every field researcher needs a trusty assistant. Where do I get one, will they have to be paid and how long will I have to spend training them?

These are the things running through my mind on my 1.5 hour drive with Gabi from Ierece's lab to her study site in the Bay of Mamanguape. Gabi is studying seahorse habitat in Paraiba, the state of Joao Pessoa and Ierece's lab. Hilariously I thought I was going for 1 day of field work, but on the morning before we leave, Gabi informs me it is actually 3 days of field work. How this slight little miscommunication happened I'm not quite sure, but I happily set off for 3 days of fieldwork anxiously looking forward to my first seahorse. Ierece's lab has a hired driver to drop people off at different field sites and so we ride in a luxurious truck/SUV into the country. The ride there was covered with lots of green sugar cane fields; and few houses. The place we are going to in the Bay of Mamanguape is actually a protected area called Project Manatee (Projecto Peixe-boi). The Environment Department has a house and full time research staff there to study the endangered Peixe-boi (manatee). We are going to stay at the house; we are bringing food with us, and we will be renting one of the Fishermen's boats in the morning for research.

The house is small and basic with three rooms for bunk beds and storage. There is a small kitchen and a little gathering area for eating/hanging out. The house comes with barbed wire fence and a guard. Once we get there, we buy a fresh gallon of water for the house because the water is yellow when it comes out of the tap.

Gabi has three study sites within the Bahia de Mamanguape, one along the barrier reef, and two smaller branches (called camboas in portuguese) of the estuary. The first day we do two transects along the reef. For each transect, Gabi lays out a 50 m tape measure, takes salinity, depth, GPS and temperature readings, along with a visibility estimate. For the next 20 minutes Gabi, myself and her research assistant search for seahorses within 2 meters either side of the transect.

Disappointment strikes and there are no seahorses to be found. Nonetheless we carry on with identifying substrate along the transect, which turns out to be lots and lots of algae. After two chilling transects snorkeling on the reef, and by reef I sadly don't mean coral reef, I mean rocky reef with bad visibility and little fish, we move on to one of the estuary areas. The visibility from the reef to the estuary drops from bad to worse, due to the rain last night and the increase in sedimentation in the estuary. The procedure in the estuary is about the same, laying out the transect, seeking amongst the mangrove roots for seahorses and recording environmental variables. Substrate and habitat identification in the mangroves is pretty clearcut, it's either Rhizophora mangle (red mangrove roots), mud or oyesters. Disappointment falls again and no seahorses are found.

Day 3 of field work begins similarly to day 2, up at 6 am, into the boat and out onto the reef. Just as we take a rest after spending the last 20 minutes snorkeling for seahorses, one is spotted just outside the transect, next to my hand! Now the real field training begins. Gabi plucks the seahorse off the algae and hands it for me to hold. We brush off the sediment and determine that it is red, with tiny white spots. We see it has small little filaments growing off from its head and body, which usually meants it is a juvenile. We then look to determine the sex and Gabi shows me where the brood pouch (think kangaroo pouch for keeping babies) is located in the males. We find one....it's a boy!! Next, Gabi lets me measure the seahorse against her slate where she has 20 cm marked out. Here in the photo you can see my intense look of concentration as I attempt to measure my first seahorse in the field! He measured up to 10.2 cm! We then took some photos of him, and marked his tail with a tiny elastic string and bead (part of a mark and recapture method they are studying here in the Bay of Mamanguape). That was it! We then finished up our habitat analysis, more algae, and headed over to the estuary again. No more luck in the estuary with seahorses and the visibility was actually so bad we had to call it quits early. But what a find! My first seahorse in the field! and a rare red one at that!

This has me super stoked to get back to Ceara and start my own research! Searching and seeking for seahorses has been what I've been dying to do for such a long time. Now that I'm trained, I can't wait to begin. Only a few more hurdles to cross before I can officially start, hurdle one: clear my research plans with IBAMA (Brazilian Environmental Agency) that's on the list to do this week and two: head to Sao Paulo for a quick Fulbright Orientation. Stay tuned for the adventurous story of my meeting with Ibama coming soon!

Peixe-boi (manatee)

I went to do a few days of field work training with Gabi from Ierece’s Lab. We went to a protected area about 90 minutes north of Joao Pessoa in the Bahia de Mamanguape. The protected area is called Projecto Peixe Boi, translation,- project manatee. The bay, its estuary and surrounding barrier reef are known habitat for the endangered manatee. Back in 1993, the environmental department of Brazil, IBAMA, decided to protect the area and base a research and field team there to study the manatees. The manatee species found in this part of Brazil is the same species of manatee found in the waters off the coast of Florida. However in Brazil, it is quite endangered, with only 300-400 individuals left.

Since we went there to do some field work I was hoping we would also get a chance to see a peixe-boi! The first morning of field work proved successful, just as we were coming back from an early morning session of transects, there was a manatee munching on some of the algae on the docked fishing boats close to shore.

The manatee had a tag on its tail. Gabi informed me that there is a captive facility for manatees in the Bahia de Mamanguape, to help re-introduce manatees that have been sick or kept in aquariums back into their natural habitat. Gabi explained that when someone- fishermen, community member, scientist- finds a manatee with health problems, first it goes to another facility in Pernumbuco (another state). The manatee is nursed back to health and then either given to the local aquarium or brought to the facility at Projecto Peixe-boi. The facility is a caged in tidal area in the mangroves. The manatees are fed a combination of carrots, beets, algae and seagrass by the fisheries staff. Usually animals are kept in the re-adaptation facility for 6 months before they are tagged and released into Mamanguape Bay.

I asked Gabi if they had ever done a captive breeding program with the manatees, thinking these facilities might be somewhat similar to those used by NOAA in its efforts to help the endangered Hawaiian Monk Seal. However, Gabi said they haven’t tried captive breeding, it’s strictly for re-introducing recovered animals back into their native habitat. Tourists visit the area now, with local guides, to see the manatees in captivity, adding an element of alternative sustainable livelihoods to those living in the protected area where commercial fishing is not allowed. Gabi said the tourism is fairy well regulated, no one is allowed to feed the manatees; people speak in hushed tones; and no touching allowed.

Visiting the Projecto Peixe-boi facilities was an extra special treat in addition to learning some field techniques for seahorses. The manatees were graceful and friendly, the management seemingly well run, and it’s hoped that numbers are on the rise in this area of Brazil. What a surprising success story on my search for seahorses in Brazil!

Caripibus, JP and CARNAVAL

I took the overnight bus from Fortaleza to Joao Pessoa this week to meet with my collaborator, Dr. Rosa at the Universidade Federal Da Paraiba. It was a nice coach bus with air conditioning and seats that reclined a little. The ride by bus to Joao Pessoa was about 11 hours long. I arrived in JP, Joao Pessoa, and had three days to spare before my meetings, so I, of course, found a little tiny beachside town, Caripibus and spent three days whiling away in a hammock, sipping caiparinhas, thinking about what my upcoming meetings would bring.

The day finally comes, when I leave the sleepy bungalo life of Praia de Caripibus to venture off into the “working” world of Joao Pessoa and Ierece Rosa. Dr. Rosa is a vibrantly young woman in her late forties whose enthusiasm for seahorses and life is absolutely inspiring. She is a brazilian bundle of energy, and I’m ready to meet her enthusiasm straight on with some of my own. We go to her lab at the University where I get to meet some of her grad students, one of which, Gabi, I will be venturing off into the field with in a few days. Over the next 4 days, Ierece and Gaby show me the beauties of life in Joao Pessoa (which includes the eastern most tip of South America, the point that could literally fit back into Africa, and two very nice restaurants where red meat and mainly only red meat is served with three different types of carbs (rice, pasta AND mashed potatoes) and help me to navigate the craziness of Carnaval.

The streets for Carnaval are jam packed with people. They closed the main street, which is atleast 10 km long and there are more people than you can almost imagine living in JP, dressed in crazy costumes with music blaring from all around. People dancing, drinking, selling food and souveneirs right on the street. If you look up or down the street it looks like a never ending sea of people. The Festa da Virgins, which unfortunately I have no pictures from, is a festival honoring Virgins by having the males dress up like females.

Hilarious! I have never seen so many men making such concertedly good, and at times scaringly convincing efforts to express their feminine sides! So all throughout the crowded streets, every single male from young child to monsignor elder is dressed like a woman in everything from skirts, to dresses, to bikini tops and bright fluorescent wigs. Oh my! What a scene to behold.Caranaval is celebrated in Joao Pessoa a little differently, as I’m told, than elsewhere in Brazil. It’s actually celebrated a week earlier than everyplace else. The Carnival celebrations in JP include large street parties that go on every night for a week before Carnaval happens. Each street party has a theme; the two that I ventured to go see with Gabi where the Festa da Virgens (Virgin Festival) and the Moricocas (Large Giant Mosquito Festival).

To the side you will see the giant figurine of the Moricocas, some sort of scary caricature of a mosquito that is absurdly larger than life. The Moricocas festival started off as a group of people from a neighborhood organizing a themed party with costumes for carnaval. One year they got so many people to participate, someone erected a crazy moricocas figurine and it has been a designated street party ever since.

I only got to see two of the parties in the week’s celebration of Carnaval in JP but the crazy costumes, music and overall enthusiasm and reveling were awesome!

Top 10 Highlights From Cumbuco

1)   Learning to kite in Portuguese

2)  Kiteboarding in Cauípe

 Lagoon

3)  Buggy ride on the beach over the sand dunes

4)  Finding the best place to buy a cold coconut (coco verde)

5)  Walking on the beach at night during a full moon

6)  Trying to find the best place in town for a caipirinha and realizing EVERY place makes the best caipirinhas

7)  Swinging in a hammock, with a strong breeze, while a kitten I named Balistoides (yes that is the Triggerfish family in scientific speak) paws at my moving feet

8)  Dessert crepes! (chocolate and banana yum!!)

9)   Creative drink names: such as a Monica Lewinski with clothes and a Monica Lewinski without clothes

10)  The restaurants: everything from a place to get brick oven pizza to thai curry, to filet mignon, to Brazilian grilled chicken with cassava and an expresso drip coffee!