Reflections from Felipão

I haven't had a chance to blog in a long time--a factor of shared computers, priority for checking e-mails, etc. Our time in São Paulo was a wonderful time for me, seeing houses I grew up in, visiting my school (first grade through twelfth grade international school) and my home church, and especially reconnecting with people I knew from my childhood. I don't know how to put it into words, but it's been very good for my soul being back in the city in the city in which I grew up. (Maybe more on this later.)

Paraty was beautiful. I have been to many beautiful beach locations, and this is one best I've ever seen--maybe the best in terms of beauty, given the combination of the achingly beautiful setting of an enormous bay dotted with tropical islands and dozens of beaches on the mainland side with the "Mata Atlantica" jungle cascading down mountains to the water's edge, along with the historic town of Paraty, with an old part of town containing all the original buildings from the 17th century gold shipping heyday.

Now we're in Rio being tourists, which is fun in it's own way. Paulistanos say about Cariocas (people from Rio) that they're lazy and just party all the time, and Cariocas say about Paulistanos that they don't know how to have fun because they work too hard. We'll write more about our time in Rio in a different blog.

Dana has jumped into this Brasil trip with both feet and put a lot of energy into learning the language, making relational connections, and generally learning the culture. While she would happily keep going longer on the Brasilian Birth Trek, she is looking forward to returning to life in Berkeley. The girls are longing to get back to see friends and home, and even school! I, however, would throw away my return ticket if the opportunity presented itself! But don't worry, I'm coming back :)

Notable Quotes

Felipão here. Two good quotes, especially with our São Paulo/Rio visits:

"Rio is beautiful. São Paulo . . . São Paulo is a city." Marlene Dietrich
"São Paulo sure is ugly" Dana Cunliffe on a tour of downtown São Paulo

Fabulous Rio

After an uneventful 4 hour bus ride, we are now at our final stop, the finale-- Rio de Janeiro, also known as "Cuidade Maravilhosa" the "Marvelous City." In many ways, it reminds us of San Francisco-- hills, water, lively people. We are staying at a B&B sort of place that would fit nicely in the City-- on a side of a hill in a leafy neighborhood. Today we did the total tourist thing-- took the tram up to Pao de Açucar (you James Bond fans-- remember the scene where James and Jaws have it out on top of the tram?),

(two of Bond's girls)


walked on Copacabana beach (and only sang the Barry Manilow song once, okay, twice), tried to find the Girl from Ipanema (and only hummed the song a million times) and ate feijoda with all of the other Brasilians. Feijoada is a black bean stew chock full of pig parts, served with rice, kale, toasted manioc, oranges and a caipirinha (lime juice with sugar cane alcohol) that every one eats on Saturday.


Tim-tim












eating at a restaurant on Copacabana beach (the hottest spot south of Havana) and a photo of Dana's feijoada dish

A Serendipitous Evening at the Circus

On our last night in Paraty, we had one of those kismet experiences. In the early evening, we were walking over to see an old fort in an unexplored part of town. However, we found out it was closed for the day. Instead, we discovered a circus tent and sure enough there was a show that evening. After dinner, we walked back there and found out that it was run by a bunch of artistic hippies who wanted to introduce the art of the circus to people. The cost was pay what you wanted. They said that the show would start later because heavy rains earlier had caused some flooding in the tent that they were cleaning up. So, we walked over to the beach next door, grabbed some chairs and watched the lightning illuminate the bay and its scattered islands. Claire asked us some great questions about what we wanted to do after she and Mad left home, what would be our dream jobs, would we want to live in another country. Between the conversation and the beautiful weather, it was an enchanted moment.

We entered the circus tent, replete with saw dust, a few strings of lights, and rickety chairs. The audience consisted of 20 folks. The circus perfomers consisted of a clown, a fiddler, a drummer, some acrobats, a juggler and a fire tosser. They were energetic, charming and talented. As we were enjoying the show, the rain returned. We noticed that the back stage was flooded. The performers, improv experts that they were, began to wear flippers and goggles. It was cozy being inside while the rain pelted the tent. However, the water lapped into our front row and soon our feet were swimming in a stew of saw dust and water. The only problem was there were electrical cords all around us and I began to be distracted from the show. What would electrocution feel like? What a macabre way to end this earthly life. The stage hands were scrambling to lift at least the connectors from the water and I prayed there were no frayed wires. The show went on! We sloshed our way back to the hotel laughing all the way.

Party in Paraty?

Paraty is a colonial sea town between Sao Paulo and Rio (that's HEE-OOH, ya'll). It was founded in the 1600s as a slave port, gold port, coffee port, and then nothing for a good 100 years. The only way to reach Paraty was via the sea until a road was built in the 1970s. The neglect preserved the buildings, it's now a world heritage site chock full of artists (visual and performance). Its very pretty.

We went on a schooner trip yesterday (Maddie commented, "That's not a real schooner. A real schooner has 3 masts. This only has 2.") with 100 wealthy Brasilians. It was raucous and this was the upper class. Lots of beer and cigarettes and singing as we cruised around islands, stopping to swim in the green and azure waters. I realize I've adapted to the culture-- thongs and speedos seem normal now. We are the freaky one piece bathing suit family (and Phil wears baggy surf shorts). A little too crowded and boisterous for my taste, but this is high season, so it's to be expected.

(Felipao gets boisterous)

Brown Bear Grooves On

(Bear is tired of doing homework)

Since Maddie, the tempetuous Jungle Surfer, had her blog entry, it's only fair that Claire, Brown Bear (or at times red, pink, blistered, or mottled bear) gets her turn. Brown bear has jumped into Brasilian culture-- jumping into rice and beans at most meals, jumping into a spot-on Portuguese accent (although her comment is "I can't speak Portguese, it will corrupt my Spanish!"), jumping into any body of water, and being a mostly good sport. Everyone thinks she is Brasilian or Argentinian (could it be the large hoop earrings, spaghetti strap shirts and manicured fingernails?). We asked her this morning if she was ready to go home or if she could stay travelling longer. She answered that aside from missing friends, she would keep going. I do believe that the genetic travel bug found on both sides of her parents' has found the next generation.

Travel Aids

(LOOK, PICTURES ADDED THROUGHOUT BLOG. IT'S AMAZING!)

Yesterday, we took a six hour bus ride from Sao Paulo to Paraty. It was our third long bus ride (not to mention our many local bus rides, metro subway rides, taxi rides, car rides, air plane rides, and walking "rides".) To pass the time, we do Sudoku (since it is number puzzles, its the only literature in the news stands that the girls and I can read!), listen to music, look at the scenary, read, try to sleep, and every now and then, make friends with strangers. Maddie's seat mate showed her magic tricks, number games, and card games. Maddie taught him, well, Sudoku.

Maddie hits the wall. . . and bounces back!

At the beginning of week 4 of our travels, Maddie had had it. Her list went as follows: too hot, too many mosquitos, too many people, too much Portuguese, too little nature, too many toddlers asking to play with her, too few books (in fact she ran out after week 2 causing her to re read all of them), too much fruit, too much salt water (in Floripa) and just too much period. What's an introverted, cold loving girl to do? First, she gave her list of gripes, followed by what she wanted to do when she got back to Berkeley (go into her room, close the door and play with her animals. Later on, call her friends.) We prayed together, Maddie set some limits, and has bounced back. She even wrote this blog with Dana's help. She's been pretty cheerful since with a few dips. It dawned on me (Dana) that we are on a long trip and nothing is familiar and after a while whatever coping mechanisms we have, simply fail. Another insight that I have is that we are together every minute of the day and our moods effect each other (In Berkeley, we have different work/school/meetings/soccer/errand schedules and at times we can go a day or two without really being with each other. Well, not so on this trip!!!). Actually, both girls have been really amazing on this trip. They are gems!

(Maddie meets Gollum).

A frenzy of meat, then futbol

We are currently at the Tiete bus station, waiting for our bus to Paraty. Our last day in Sampa was full of frenzy. After church, not a frenzy, we had lunch at a churrascaria. If you ever saw the movie Polar Express, there's a scene where the train conductor orders hot cocoa for the little boy. All of a sudden, dozens of waiters dance out with steaming mugs of cocoa. Well, substitute meat for cocoa, and you can picture it. Every 30 seconds, a waiter carrying a slab of meat and a large knife would come to our table, slicing a hunk for us if we seemed vaguely interested. Faster and faster they flew, enticing us with about 15 different types of flesh. Wow, vegetarians would sorta suffer (except for the sushi, salads and lebanese food they had at the buffet part). After that frenzy, we went to Pacaembu Stadium and saw 2 Sao Paulo teams play soccer-- the Corinthians versus Portuguesa. We sat with the Corinthians. They have cousins with the Raider Nation-- cheers, boos, drums thumping, rythmic whistling, large banners waving, men cursing and even a love song that went (Corinthians, you are my life. Corinthians, you are my story. Corinthians, you are my love. Corinthians.). Wild frenzy and great fun.

Favela Visit

Yesterday, we visited a favela (a slum) with John Macy. John and his wife Yvonne and their 5 kids are very dynamic and peripetic. They have started a work helping prostitues, then worked with street kids, then moved to the North East (a very poor part of Brasil) and started a training center for like minded folks, and then moved back to Sampa and are working with this favela doing community organizing and church work and training. There were many interesting things about this favela. It is named "Hot Hole" and is nestled behind a giant super market, busy streets, and a nice middle class neighborhood. Hot Hole existed for 40 years and was rife with drugs, selling $6,000 worth nightly. Last year there was a fire and the whole place burned to a crisp, mostly because the police didn't want to fire fighters to extinguish it. All 180 families were placed in tents in the soccer field next to it (the favela itself is about on the same acreage as a soccer field!). The mennonite church that John and Yvonne work with was asked by the government to distribute compensation to the families and ulitmately to rebuild the favela. They have gathered a committee of favela residents and are busy rebuilding-- holding flea markets to get money to buy sewer pipes and other basic needs. Unfortunately, the drug powers returned recently. They changed the pathways so they are no longer straight but a labyrinth so they can elude the authorities. The favela residents feel safer not confronting the drug guys. As we were leaving, two young men high on pot and just making a sale ran by us. They were eluding the police. Luckily, the police did not come after them. Often, they shoot randomly when they chase people. Thus far, the menonnites have the respect of both the police and the drug kings. Obviously, at some point, it won't continue. After we left, Claire looked relieved. She had remembered the intense filth and hoards of people when we visited a slum in Bangkok. Because Hot Hole was being rebuilt, it was pretty clean and the residents were quite proud of their new favela. Poor kid. I didn't know she had geared herself up for it to be horrible. As always, such visits stir up in me deep feelings about justice, systemic evil, what-am-I-doing-with-my-life wonderings. Much to ponder.

Regular Life in Sao Paulo

Excuse our lack of blog updates. The computer is in the bedroom of 3 toddlers and our life has gotten pretty regular (no stunning sites) so there's less time to write and less content on one level. Our life in Sampa is sorta like life in the States-- washing clothes and hanging them on the line (I (Dana) only drop 10% of the wet clothes on the ground!), going daily to the store for food, riding local buses, kids doing homework (for some reason, Maddie got a huge amount of work to do. One cool thing is that Maddie's supposed to write a paper on a famous African-American but since we're here,

(Helen and Edimilson Bizerra, with 2 of their 3 toddlers. They are the younger generation of Shedds who have graciously let us stay in their home)

her teacher said she could write about an African-Brasilian. We found out about a guy in the 17th century named Ganga Zumba, who started a settlement of escaped slaves. We're betting no one else in the class is writing about Zumba).



We've mostly seen Felipao's old stomping grounds-- his dad's publishing house, his old school, his church, his old houses, and various family friends. It's been great to hear Felipao's stories, and great to hear how much people hold the Felipao's family in high regard. Person after person tell stories about how Felipao's mom met with them or Felipao's dad helped them out. Very inspiring. We did run into an old Portuguese teacher who was talking about how smart Cunliffes are. She said, "I think that the bigger the forehead, the bigger the brains." Some of Felipao's reminiscing is pretty funny. We were looking at sites downtown (top of the BANESPA building, opera house, cathedral) when Felipao gets excited and points to a building, "Look, that's the largest post office in all of Brasil. My dad used to have a post office box there.
That's where I developed my love of opening mail!" Which goes to show that everyone gets their thrills in different ways.


(Sampa. Look any direction and the buildings go on and on and on and on. . . )



(Felipao's school from kindergarten thru high school and his P.E. teacher Mr. Fast)

Sampa Travels

We are back in Sao Paulo (Sampa) for a week. It was wonderful returning to the Shedd´s house-- cooler, less mosquitos, and more comfortable in general.

(We took Russ and Pat Shedd out to a fancy tea. They are the older generation of Shedd's who have generously let us stay at their house)



Since it was Hans and Tracy´s last day with us, we decided to see some of the sights. We had been scouring our 3 travel books to pick the most interesting places. First, was the Museum of Immigration. Brazil, and Sao Paulo in particular, has a huge immigrant population (Ukranians, Italians, Germans, Dutch, Japanese, Koreans, Chinese, etc., etc.) Two of our guide books mentioned that the museum was in a bad area, next to a men´s homeless shelter and the third book, Fodors, more of a ritzier guide didn´t even reference it. So, Felipao drove admirably through the manicial streets of Sampa (Perhaps many of you have ridden with ol´Felipao in the U.S. and have been frightened by his driving tactics. I (Dana) have many times. I do believe a few of my gray hairs can be attributed to him. Well, he is an amazing driver in Brasil. He speeds up, slams on brakes, veers around trucks with great grace. I honestly believe that his driving is a cultural thing and in Sampa culture, he rocks!!! Ah, another insight into Felipao). Anyway, after a few wrong turns we arrive at the museum. Knowing that the neighborhood isn´t great, we don´t open the trunk and walk silently (no English babble here) to the building. There´s a nice man in a kiosk, we pay him 40 cents each and he gives us each a ticket. As we enter the courtyard, we notice that our fellow museum goers are all men, some of them a little disheveled. We keep walking and see no signs saying "immigraceo" or "museo" and continue to proceed to a line of men. It dawns on us that we are in the homeless shelter! We go back to the nice man at the kiosk and he smiles, gives us our money back and directs us to the museum. It's comforting to know that if things get really bad, we know where to get three hots and a cot!

Beside the humor of the whole situation, I was struck by the lack of shouting, drunkness, and vocalized mental illness as is common as St. Anthony's. Seems like lack of jobs keeps folks poor and at least there, I witnessed no self medicating behaviors.

We went to the museum, it was okay. Then we headed to Liberdade, the Japanese section of Sampa. There are 1 million Japanese in Sampa. It was a blast. We found lots of Hello Kitty merchanise, house hold gadgets, and other trinket like stuff that we so adore. Maddie and I even got our hair cut at the Soho hairstyling academy. For $6, we got a shampoo and cut and somehow Maddie scored and got a 20 minute head and neck massage. She was in great spirits afterwards (note to self: use massage trick when red head gets testy)! We ended our day at a fancy sushi place and took the Ashlocks to the airport.

Alcohol fill-up

This is an automotive posting, rather than an alcoholic one! Out of necessity, Brasil has been a world leader in renewable fuels (which still have their own environmental impacts, by the way). During the oil crises of the 1970's, the government mandated the development of car engines that run on 100% alcohol. In Brasil, this is sugar cane alcohol, and the alcohol car's exhaust has an almost pleasant sweet smell to it. The alcohol fuel is cheaper (manipulated by lower fuel taxes than gasoline), higher octane, and supports local agriculture rather than oil imports.

During our week in Florianopolis, we rented an alcohol car. The "intermediate" car I (Felipão) rented was a little smaller than a Toyota Corolla, and the six of us squished into it with some fancy back-seat configurations. Fortunately Florianopolis drivers have the same "aloha spirit" as drivers in Kauaii, and I joined in the mellow driving style.

When we got back to Sampa (São Paulo) two nights ago, it was a different story. I rented a car for just a couple of days so that we could drive Hans and Tracy around my great city (getting lost in a very sketchy neighborhood in an industrial area I'd never been to before, but that's a different story) and so that we could take Hans and Tracy to the airport last night. I have never been so scared driving in my entire life. Very narrow lanes. Very fast drivers darting in and out, competing with very slow drivers, buses, big trucks, and lots of crazed motorcycle drivers. Radar speed traps every so often, so that everyone slows down suddenly and then speeds up again. Unfamiliarity with the roads. Almost missing several red stoplights (sorry about those sudden stops, guys). I'll be very relieved when I return the car tonight. Now I know why the rental car agency charged me US$1,200 deposit!

Quotes from Maddie

Our kids have been total champs-- they've put up with sunburn, mosquito bites, food dislikes, sleeping in uncomfortable places, waiting for buses/taxis/airplanes, walking miles on end. On the other hand, they've seen great beauty, learned much, and pushed themselves beyond what they thought they could do. Maddie, not surprisingly, has not lost her wit.

1. As we were sauntering back to the beach house on a balmy night, Maddie reflected on her love of the outdoors and our Berkeley neighborhood's lack of safety and sighed, "I live in a concrete forest, and I don't even get to walk through the forest!"

2. We were watching boats on a lake. Phil remarks, "Look, they're pushing the boats with poles in the shallow water." Maddie corrects him, "That's called 'punting', Papi."

3. We had eaten dinner at a restaurant that served solely seafood (not the kids' favorite). They were quite unhappy about it. Afterwards, we thanked them for their patience in sitting through the meal. Maddie replied, " Thanking us for being patient is like thanking prisoners when you put them into jail!"

If I had a rocket launcher. . . oh, I do!

Our last night in Florianopolis contained two of my (Dana) favorite activities-- fireworks and a picnic on the beach during sunset. We knew that fireworks are legal here so Phil and Maddie went to the grocery store to buy some. Phil lit them and ka-boom-- sparkles and flares shooting out about 100 feet just like the show that fire departments trained in pyrotechnics handle in the States. Kids, don't try this at home. Kids, don't try this away from home. Kids, just don't try this! It was very beautiful, however. And Phil still has ten fingers and two arms. (having trouble with the photos, will add later).

Another Day in Paradise

Our days in Florianopolis seem to ripple like the tide-- in and out, in and out (could this be an entry into the bad first sentence contest?). Our chalet is very, very simple. So simple that it lacks screens-- thereby offering us the choice of sleeping via closed windows in stifling heat or open windows allowing swarms of mosquitos free access. Our mosquito count is -- Claire 89, Dana 35, and Maddie 106! However, we bought some mesh, pounded it into the sills, sprayed tons of poison all over and last night was better.

We have a daily rhythm. Breakfast of coffee, fresh fruit and bread. Clean up and read for a while. Go to beach or take a walk. Have simple lunch of leftovers or fruit. Take a nap. Have an afternoon outing. Come back, have a glass of wine or caipinirinas, grill outside. And always, always end the day with a walk to an ice cream stand down the street on the beach.

More good news is that Tracy's concussion continues to mend. We now make jokes about whoever is on Tracy's side in card games is called "Team Concussion." Making jokes is a good sign.

The Kindness of Strangers

7 Jan 2006

Nickname update: Brown Bear (Claire) has developed quite a tan, so Hans gave her this nickname, which is a takeoff on Claire Bear, an old nickname of hers. I'm sure she'll be even browner by the time we get back. We'll try to get a good picture of Brown Bear on here soon.

(Hank Lee, I thought about you several times during the following adventure!) On Saturday we went to Praia Moçambique, which is on the east side of Florianopolis island. Most of the 3 mile long beach is protected as a forest reserve and therefore undeveloped. We drove in from the highway on a dirt road for a mile or two and parked in a pine tree grove right next to the beach. After a nice day (too nice, as the girls and I got our first sunburns), we headed for home. We stopped a few hundred yards down the dirt road to help Maddie clean sand out of her eyes, and inadvertently locked the keys of our rental car in the trunk! The car had no button next to the driver seat to open the trunk, and no folding back seat. I decided to hitch a ride back to the beach to see if I could borrow a cell phone to call the rental car company to come help us.

I flagged down the first car that came, an old beater with a local couple. The guy got out, puffing on his cigarette, shirtless, and wearing a jaunty cowboy hat. He looked at our car trying to figure out a way to get in. He gave up, and suggested I find a similar car at the beach to see if that key would open our trunk. So he and his wife gave me a ride back to the pine grove, and God provided a car that was the same make and model as ours, and the people were just getting ready to leave. The guy was a young Brasilian in a Speedo and sporting a huge beer belly (sorry, no pics available). He came back with me and Cigarette-Smoking Local to see if his key would open our trunk. No luck. So he decided to walk back to his car to see if the manual might give us some idea of how to get in. Meanwhile, Hans and Cigarette-Smoking Local tried to pick the lock with a variety of keys and an exacto knife. Still no luck. Beer-Belly Speedo came back, and Cigarette-Smoking Local went on to the beach with his patient wife. Beer-Belly Speedo's manual was no help, so we decided to call the rental company on his cell phone. No reception!

We were in a hard place. Beer-Belly Speedo suggested we keep trying to find a way to break into the trunk. He noticed that the area behind the back seat in his car had speaker holes in the metal frame underneath the vinyl and felt trim. Hans figured out a way to jimmy the trim enough that he could stick his hand through. He stuck his hand through and miraculously, the first thing it touched was our precious car key, which he pulled out triumphantly!

(Editor's note: I was very touched throughout the adventure by the two people who went way out of their way to help complete strangers. It is typical of Brasilian kindness and the high value they place on relationships, but not often seen in our San Francisco Bay Area.)

Bumming on the Beach

We are half way done with our beach here in Florianopolis, on Santa Catarina island. I myself (Dana) am not much of a beach person-- sunburn plus sand plus numerous mosquito bites is not my idea of a good time, however ol' Felipao is loving it-- it reminds him of his childhood beach vacations, which makes me very happy to see him so free and so dark! I've been reading a lot (Bel Canto, Death in Brasil, the Bible, Jewel) and learning card games. We had our own little worship time today-- singing, prayer, and lectio divina (a practice of allowing scripture to effect you through listening and meditation) on the 3 wise men on this Epiphany Sunday. I'll let Felipao write about beach encounters.


Hans and Tracy will be with us a few more days. If you're interested, they have a blog too, at ashlocksinbrazil.blogspot.com and are better picture takers than we are. Hans helped me with uploading some photos. Without his assistance, I'd be back in the mimeograph era.

Abrigada.

I see stars . . . in Argentina?

We are now back in Brasil after 5 amazing days in Argentina. We spent the first couple of days at the Falls which Felipao already wrote about, then we went to an absolutely marvelous ranch. It was our planned splurge. Estancia La Mercedes is a 1920s ranch owned by Anglo Argentines. It was like something from Out of Africa-- high tea daily, very fine Argentina wines served at lunch and dinner, and Edi the 65 year old matron of the ranch regaled us with family lore. We canoed one afternoon and rode horses another afternoon followed by swimming and looking through their 1920s library.
(Edi, our host. The spitting image of Madeleine L'Engle).

The only bummer, and it was a big one, but all is well now, is that on the second horse ride, Tracy fell off her galloping horse (by the sheer grace of God Maddie stayed on!). She came back to the ranch not knowing where she was. When we told her that she was in Argentina, she smiled like "you gotta be kidding me." I guess that would be surreal! After a few hours of being sick and memory not returning, Felipao, Hans and Edi took her to a hospital. She got medications and an IV for $4. It took another day for her to recover but she is back in fine form.

I would definately recommend Argentina as a tourist paradise-- great exchange rate, nice people, beautiful. And those wines ($1.50 per bottle!).

Claire and Maddie were playing Marco Polo with Claire effortlessly shouting "Marco" with a perfect accent, including the trilled r.

After a 15 hour bus ride, we are now in Florianopolis at the beach with every other Brasilian, Argentinian, and Uruguayian. Our accomodations are very simple and the weather is beautiful.

All for now.

Nicknames

Those of y9u who know Dana well know that nicknames often emerge with her. Yesterday we spent the day at Iguaçu Falls, some of the most amazing waterfalls in the world. Iguaçu is actually a group of about 200 waterfalls all throughout a large horseshoe canyon--far larger, higher, and with greater waterflow than Niagara, and it's set in the middle of the jungle!

"Jungle Surfer" (Maddie) One of our first activities was to hike down to the bottom of the canyon and take a boat past some of the falls and INTO two of them. It was an awesome experience, and Maddie especially loved getting soaked. She was wearing her O'neill surf shirt to keep from getting burned, and one of the boat guides asked her if she was a surfer, leading to her nickname as "Jungle Surfer" Given by Phil.

"Felipao" (Phil) in Portuguese means "Big Phil" and is given not so much because of my large size, but because it was the name of Brasil's soccer coach in 2002 when Brasil won an unprededented fifth World Cup championship.

"Senhor Shutterbug" (Hans Ashlock) our friend who is traveling with us takes dozens of photos every day of the beautiful scenery, his beautiful wife Tracy, and mundane shots of us traveling in a bus, walking into a restaurant, etc. He's also an excellent travel companion because of his flexible nature and continually upbeat personality about whatever we're doing. Nickname given by Maddie.

"Butterfly Girl" (Tracy Ashlock) is a woman of many talents. One we discovered on this trip is that she is a butterfly expert gained from a love of butterflies since childhood. Iguaçu Falls has many different kinds of butterflies everwhere, and Tracy was naming many of them for us. They seemed to like her also, as several landed on her and stayed calmly on her hand at different points. Maddie gave her the nickname.

Claire and Dana have yet to land nicknames, but I'm sure that by the end of our trip, theirs will have emerged also.