Cabinet ministers? What cabinet ministers?

If the extent to which our prime minister is a micro-manager unwilling to let his cabinet ministers announce even the most insignificant of government initiatives happens to have slipped your mind, perhaps this will jog your memory.

As someone so intent on "governing the country," he sure seems to have a lot of time on his hands!

Sol

I have finally found the sun. It has been hiding above Ilha Grande, a former pirate mecca off the coast of Brazil two hours south-east of Rio. While I caught glimpses of it on Monday during my last day in Rio, the highlight of which was a trip and swim at the relatively deserted Ipanema Beach, I have only been able to truly relax and enjoy its warmth here on the island. I am only here for 2 days and nights, leaving tomorrow morning to meet up with Paula again in Paraty, a quaint colonial town between Sao Paulo and Rio, but could easily stay much longer.

Yesterday entailed catching a bus at 5am from Rio to Mangaratiba, where I caught the day´s only ferry at 8am to the island. Spent the afternoon on two beaches, one much like Vancouver Island´s Long Beach and the other more like your typical tropical island slice of sand. Think Lost. Today was spent on a boat trip that included plenty of swimming and a taste of snorkelling and was finished off with a refreshingly cold 1 litre beer at the end of the day as our group enjoyed the sun´s last rays before it descended below the island´s hilltops.

Internet´s darn expensive here, so that´s all for now. Fly home on Sunday.

A Good Week

The past seven days have taken me north from Foz de Iguacu into the eco-mecca of the Brazilian pantanal, south-east to the infinite high rises of Sao Paulo and north-east to the world class beaches and hillside favelas of Rio de Janeiro.

The journey has been anything but predictable, complete with a successful two hours of piranha fishing with a bamboo pole; befriending a capivara; a visit through my friend Paula´s NGO to one of Sao Paulo´s many hidden slums - this one 300 families strong and located in the shadow of South America´s most exclusive shopping malls; catching our flight to Rio despite showing up 30 minutes before its scheduled departure and boarding 10 minutes after it was supposed to take off (our fault, we assume); visiting Rio´s Sugarloaf during an unexpected break in the low cloud cover; and whiling away a rainy afternoon amongst this vibrant city´s cafes, antique shops and shopping malls.

Much to say about the experience in the favela in Sao Paolo and Rio´s way of life, but that will have to wait till another day. Tomorrow looks to be much the same as today, with the highlight likely being a big lunch with Paula´s extended family, while Monday´s expected sun will hopefully mean a day on the sand at Copacabana beach.

T minus 8 days until I return home.

Change of Plans

Given my having had enough of this cold weather and upon the last minute recommendation of a friend, I´m heading northwards to Campo Grande, Brazil tonight instead of Curitiba and the east coast south of Sao Paulo.

Once in Campo Grande, an uncomfortable 17 hr bus ride away, it will be another three to five hour bus ride to Corumba, on Bolivia´s eastern border with Brazil, from where I´ll begin a three day guided excursion in Brazil´s Pantanal (a vast wetland/prairie/wilderness zone with lots of birds and other wildlife). On the itinerary is some horseback riding, paranha fishing, trekking, with bird and wildlife watching serving as the overarching theme.

Of course, the amount of wildlife we will see depends significantly on the weather, which is hard to guess at best. A Brazilian weather site indicates sun through Tuesday, with the possibility of scattered thunderstorms on Sunday, while an international site claims there´s a possibilty of thunderstorms through the weekend. Based on the evidence, the case of Per vs. the Weather would not hold water (excuse the pun) in court, but it´s worth the gamble nonetheless. Fortunately, the one thing that´s guaranteed is that it will be warmer than southern Brazil, where the temperature peaks around 20 degrees in the afternoon but feels like it drops to around 5 degrees at night. Yes, that´s cold.

Once the three day excursion has come to an end, I´ll be catching a flight on May 30 from Campo Grande that will have me arrive in Sao Paulo late that afternoon. Then it´s on to Rio de Janeiro with Ms. Magalhaes and the beginning of the final 10 day leg of my travels.

NB: Jeremy, if this excursion turns out to be a bust, I´m holding you entirely responsible, just so you know.... ;o)

It's Called a Rainforest for a Reason

Greetings from rainy, green, red and seemingly abandoned Puerto Iguazu, Argentina. The 16 hour overnight bus trip that landed me in town this morning was quite tolerable, with the exception of having to sit through ¨The Breakup¨and ¨Click¨and unknowingly choosing the seat with the least amount of leg room (though still ample) on the entire bus.

The tropical climate up here, only a stone's throw from southern Paraguay and Brazil, is such a welcome change from urban Buenos Aires. Despite the torrential rain and thunderstorms that began early this morning, it's refreshing to be surrounded by dark red soil - much of which is running in liquid forms down the streets of Iguazu - and lush green forest.

In addition to the weather it's low season in terms of tourism, so the town is three quarters shut down and barely a soul (or open restaurant) can be seen in the centre of town. It all gives me the impression that I somehow missed the memo re: Iguazu in late May. Nevertheless, it's supposed to stop raining by noon tomorrow, so I'm going to test my luck (not the greatest on this trip so far) and spend the day in the Iguazu National Park to check out the falls that apparently made Queen Elizabeth quip, ¨Poor Niagara...¨.

The owner of the place I'm currently residing reminded me, in a very motherly tone, how important it is to know Spanish when traveling in South America, especially for situations such as when one loses one's bank card, etc. I think she was just trying to be helpful, but it wasn't necessarily something I needed to be reminded of at this point. German might also come in handy in Puerto Iguazu and parts of Brazil (she, for one, speaks fluent German), but alas, I lack that one, too. It certainly makes basic tasks quite challenging, but not insurmountable.

That's all I have for you at this point. Wish there were more, given the fact that I have nothing else to do with my afternoon but write blog entries (I've finished my one English book and am desperately seeking another, which is proving quite difficult), but perhaps something else will come to mind later today amidst the downpour.

The Old Map Trick

I was the target of an attempted pickpocketing yesterday afternoon in downtown Buenos Aires. After feeling a nudge on my back while waiting to cross the street with numerous other people, I turned to find a decently-dressed, younger looking man and another that could have been his father - both darker in complexion, potentially Peruvian - apologize while looking at his map of the city. A few seconds later the light had changed and we began to walk, with the younger man out in front a few steps.

It then occured to me that I should check my backpack just in case, and sure enough the zipper of my blue backpack's middle pocket was open, but its contents - my guidebook, notebook and swiss army knife - were still there. My most valuable possessions - camera and wallet - were attached to my belt (and covered by my jacket), and stored inside my inner jacket pocket, respectively. If they hadn't been, let's just say I wouldn't be very happy at this point.

Knowing that everything was still there and not entirely sure that I had been the victim of an attempted robbery, I followed the younger man for a block or two, while the older one split off elsewhere. They were both quite harmless looking characters, but I still knew not to get to close if I could avoid it. Somehow I lost the younger man in the crowd, while the older one reappeared at random intervals, giving me the impression that he knew I had other things on me and that he might be inclined to try again. We made eye contact from across the street, at which point it looked like he realized I was on to him and it was best not to try me a second time, and he walked casually off into the crowd. By this point I caught sight of the younger one going in the opposite direction, potentially also deterred by the fact that I would be too difficult a target at this point and that it was worth going elsewhere.

I didn't want to believe what had just happened at first, but after this little bit of private investigation (from a distance, Mom...), it was quite clear what had occured. After talking to others at my hostel, a nice place up in Old Palermo called Hostel Soho, it became clear that I definitely wasn't the first foreigner on whom this map trick was attempted. It goes like this: the pickpocketer brings the map up high enough to cover the target's bag from behind while amongst a crowd waiting to cross the street, disguising the fact that they are somehow opening up the zipper directly underneath the fully extended map.

In a matter of seconds, any object within reach is in their hands, and when the light turns green they quickly blend into the crowd without the victim having a clue that anything had happened. Variations of the trick include one of the two-person team asking for directions or otherwise providing a distraction; in my case the father figure was the legitimating character, making me think for the necessary few seconds that they were simply a father and son visiting a new city. Of course, once you have time to put the pieces together (they weren't carrying backpacks, cameras or jackets, only the map), it's usually too late.

Fortunately for me, this story has a happy ending. I've also emerged somewhat more streetwise than 24 hours ago and will soon be picking up a mini lock to prevent such things from happening again (on top of carrying my pack on my chest in any crowded situation).

Knock on wood for me, y asta luego.

Bueno Bueno Buenos Aires

I've made it to beautiful (albeit somewhat overcast with drizzling rain) Buenos Aires, having made the 700 km trek from Cordoba on a 10hr bus trip across the pampas - Argentina's prairies. (Just to be clear, there's no reason to express sympathy for me, as most seats are like Lazy-Boys and they serve you food on board. So far I've spent about 28 hours on the bus, 20 of them at night, of which I've slept through at least 15).

Unfortunately, I arrived without the bank card I absent-mindedly left behind in a Banco Frances bank machine in Cordoba. ATMs here give you your money before your card, which means that clients like myself, of which there are likely many, can easily walk away with their cash without realizing the card is still in the machine. The 10 second lag between your money popping out and the card resurfacing doesn't help things either, but enough excuses. After a mini crisis, I managed to cancel the card and find a way to use my VISA as a bank card without getting charged through the roof for each withdrawl.

With my finances back in order, I arrived ready to take on all that Buenos Aires has to offer. I found a decent independent hostel - i.e. not a Hostelling International joint, which I have grown to despise - in the middle of Palermo, B.A's Plateau/Grenich (sp?) Village. I was proud to have saved the 20 pesos (about $7 CDN) it would have cost me to travel from the bus station to my hostel in a cab by asking the kind people at the bus station's info desk which bus I could take up to my corner of Parlermo. 80 centivos later (about 30 cents), I was where I needed to be with enough cash in hand to pay for a good lunch of a Milanesa (Argentina's schnitzel), mashed potatoes and cafe con leche.

This afternoon I explored the streets of Palermo and came across the Buenos Aires Zoo, situated about 6 blocks from my hostel. Knowing that I'll be here for at least the next three days, I decided to spend a few hours in what looked to be an interesting attraction amongst the lions, tigers and bears (oh my...). It proved to be both amusing and provocative: the first because it was a real treat to simply wander around the park checking out the residents brought to this slice of old Europe in the middle of South America from all over the world, and the second because seeing these beasts in their various enclosures was quite hard to bear (sorry about the pun...). The zoo, apparently built nearly 100 years ago, brought to mind visions of such an attraction in the middle of Central Park or London in the early 20th century (think Winnie the Pooh), as well as memories of Vancouver's former sorry excuse for a zoo in Stanley Park.

There, the penguins, sea otters and polar bears spent their lives in miniscule cement enclosures, wasting away under the sun with a pool of putrid water as their only salvation from the curious onlookers, content to throw their popcorn and peanuts into said enclosures despite the signs telling them not to and under the ignorant assumption that they're doing these animals some good. Imagine said penguins and polar bears in the middle of South America, where the temperature even at the beginning of winter is about as close to that of their natural habitat as I am to being a staunch supporter of outdated zoos like these. All that being said, however, all these elements combined to produce some decent photos, so there's always a silver lining...

Since finishing my tour of the zoo, (all criticisms aside, a very pleasant experience), I enjoyed a cafe doble and a scone on one of the many cafes lining the boulevards of Palermo and neighbouring Recoleta district, and thought that I would try and pass through the Museo de Bellos Artes before it closed at 730pm this evening. Unbeknownst to me at the time, however, the instructions my waitress gave me to get to the art gallery on the bus put me almost farther away from the gallery than where I was when I began, which I will blame on a language-based miscommunication. The ever-present silver lining to this particular story, however, is that I ended up in an equally interesting part of town, (San Nicolas - think Broadway meets the Champs d'Elysees), where theatres, book shops, cafes and restaurants abound. I've decided to check out a jazz show at 9pm, followed by dinner at one of the dozens of cheap and appealing restaurantes in the area and an easy ride home on the metro.