Thursday, November 14, 2013

My Favorite Island In The Whole Wide World



I've always disliked the term "bucket list", I prefer saying wishlist, dream list, must-explore list, don't-you-miss-it list. This island ought to make it to any of the above named lists or any other lists you have going on!

"Paradise is here." 
Those were the first words used to describe this island by the Italian explorer, navigator and cartographer, Amerigo Vespucci on August 10th, 1503. I couldn't agree more...

Paradise has a name: Fernando de Noronha

I can honestly say that I have never been to a place that made me laugh hysterically for 5 minutes followed by 5 minutes of non-stop crying in awe like the view overlooking Baía dos Porcos (Pigs' Bay) and Dois Irmãos (Two Brothers rocks). André, my Fernando de Noronha local tour guide, was afraid I was going to faint! He said some people have that reaction due to the emotional roller-coaster feeling when faced with such natural beauty and inspiring miraculous view of one of nature's masterpiece. I will never ever forget that feeling! Probably for the first time in my life I was...speechless! 


You can imagine my reaction when André told me I was about to snorkel around, what I now call, my Two Brothers and relax at a natural pool at Pigs' Bay. I did not believe him at first (for a second or two) then I was like a kid in a candy shop! I am pretty sure I jumped up and down smiling ear to ear and hugged him. My memory is a bit vague right now after such news. You can visit the island and ask André about it someday. He'll remember.

I was standing on the white pristine sandy beach of Cacimba do Padre about to enter the 80-degree-Fahrenheit 26-degree-Celsius green and blue water with my snorkeling gear at hand when André, who was ahead of me in the water, screamed "Bianca look up!" A whale was in the air! My first wild whale jumping for her own fun and entertainment experience. It was nothing like Sea World. This was real! OMG, I saw a whale. Just like that. Wow. And she was just the first one I saw that week. Needless to say, I was having the time of my life! 



Okay, a bit more info on my favorite island (so far) in the whole wide world. Fernando de Noronha is a Brasilian island located 545 km (339 mi) offshore from the coast of Pernambuco, a state in northern Brazil that administers the island as its "state district". The island is 17 sq km (7 sq mi). Noronha was used as a battlefield, jail, air base and weather station, but has now become a tourist heaven. One can get to Noronha by plane or cruise ship. There are two daily flights leaving from the Brasilian cities of Natal or Recife with Gol or Trip airline companies. The flight is about an hour long. I absolutely loved the time when all passengers first saw the paradisiac island out the plane window. Everyone went "wowwwwww" and "ohhhhhhh" and started taking pictures and smiling and laughing and talking in dozens of different languages realizing their dream was about to come true. Well, at least (one of) mine was...

The island has about 3,500 inhabitants. After an environmental campaign in 1988 most of the archipelago was declared a National Park for the protection of endemic species administered by the Chico Mendes Institute for Biodiversity Conservation - ICMBio . I asked the locals (which, by the way, will be your best friends by day two on the island and will call you by name everywhere you go) why there weren't more people living in the island (like the rich, wealthy, famous, celebrities). I found out not even Brasilian citizens can simply move to the island. They must be born there, marry someone who lives there, or obtain a permit to work there. Other than that, you are a tourist, and your vacation time is limited and you pay a daily fee to stay there. Yes, before leaving the airport, tourists are charged a fee based on the amount of vacation days in the island.

Tourism is developed in a sustainable way creating the opportunity for a balanced encounter between men and nature in this ecologic sanctuary. Surfers and divers go crazy in Noronha. I swam with over twenty wild turtles, snorkeling and diving. My favorite snorkeling memory was meeting Big Man, as the biologists call one of the old marine turtle which weighs 120 kg (265 lbs). He was chilling in the shallow and warm waters of Baía do Sueste with his mouth wide open. Tiny dentist-like fish were cleaning his teeth and others were feeding from his shell. I almost saw sharks and eels about a dozen times (everyone else saw them except me...good thing because I'd freak out!). I witnessed about a hundred happy care-free wild spinner dolphins jumping in celebration of life in paradise! What a vacation!

Fernando de Noronha, a hidden and protected gem in Brasil. I cannot wait to be back there...


Fernando de Noronha is a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage Site because of the importance of its environment. (Read more http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1000)http://www.noronha.pe.gov.br)

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Falling in Love with a Foreign Country

It was July. The flight from Newark to San Francisco was the longest of all four; it seemed like it would never end. I was too anxious. Anxious to see, feel, smell, speak, explore, experience. This was my first time out of the country, and away from my family. There were about thirty of us, all Brasilian* students, aging from 13 to 20. Some seeking fun away from parents, some seeking a month of English training, some coming for the fourth time, some for the first.

A charter bus picked us up at the airport in San Francisco, California.  I thought we were headed straight to Napa Valley where we were staying for the following three weeks. Suddenly, the bus stopped. I looked out of the window and there she was... The Golden Gate Bridge.  So bold and powerful, yet beautiful and mysterious. Walking across the Golden Gate Bridge was the most perfect way to start this journey! The bridge was like the entrance to heaven, paradise, an enchanted land, a dream come true. After crossing that bridge my life would never be the same.

I proceeded with caution, it was cold and foggy. That fog added a magical touch! It looked like clouds, making the bridge appear as if it was hovering over the Earth. My following steps were faster, faster; then I started running through the fog while looking up at the towers. I had my arms wide open, as if I owned the bridge. A moment that would never be forgotten.

We got on the bus at the end of the bridge and continued our trip to the Napa Valley (too bad we weren't 21 yet!). There, the American families we were staying with waited at the parking lot of a church. They were holding signs with names of the young exchange students they were hosting for the next few weeks. I was scared to leave the bus. I didn't see my name. I had sent them my picture with my introduction letter, but I didn't know what they looked like. Those few minutes felt like hours. A short beautiful gray-haired woman with brilliant blue eyes walked inside the bus yelling my name. “Bianca, Bianca”, she yelled, “Where are you?” What a relief! I promptly replied, “I am here! I am here!!!” Dorothy embraced me as her own granddaughter. She rushed me out of the bus to meet Mr. T, as she called him. When I met Roy, I knew I couldn't have asked for a better family.

The three of us drove “home” for a quick shower. It was a lovely ranch-style house in the small town of Napa. I couldn't believe I was going to have a bedroom with a private bathroom all to myself! Some cultural differences were noticed as I stepped in: there were TVs in almost every room, very tall beds with unlimited pillows, walk-in closets, lamps everywhere, wall paper and carpet in the bathrooms, central air conditioning, hot water in every faucet, non-electric showers.

Later that afternoon, we went to a park in Yountville where the host families had prepared a traditional American barbecue to welcome all students to the USA! Dorothy knew I was vegetarian so she brought some delicious veggie burgers. Others were cooking hot dogs and hamburgers on a grill (nothing like the Brasilian churrasco I will tel you that much!). Their teenage granddaughter showed up with her mom. I couldn't understand her very well. Her English was filled with idiomatic expressions and she spoke way to fast for my brain to catch up. I had been studying English in Brasil for five years, but had never interacted with Native Americans before.

After many introductions, laughs, pictures taken, and lots to eat, we all went home. I was exhausted. I did not sleep during the flights from Brazil, so I was awake for over 30 hours. I slept like an angel that night.

The following morning, Dorothy packed me a brown-bag lunch for school just like in the American movies we used to watch as kids in Brasil. A banana, a breakfast bar, a peanut butter jelly sandwich, and some apple juice. How thoughtful and sweet! My first day of class was not what I expected. I thought we were going to have intensive English classes, focused on vocabulary, grammar, English idioms, all the boring stuff that I was crazy about. Instead, the instructors had us sit on the floor in a circle and introduce the person sitting on our right side. I guess the whole point was to increase our English knowledge by using it dealing with real life experiences. Forget grammar! 

On my second evening in California, Roy came to my room to tell me someone that could barely speak any English was on the phone asking for me. 
“Weird, who might that be?” I thought to myself. 
It was my father. My mom made him call; she was almost having a heart attack by not hearing from me for three days. She had bought me an international calling card and made me promise to call her as soon as I put my feet in my host family's house. When Brasilian parents and soon-to-be exchange students had the pre-travel meeting at the EF language agency in Brasil, the trip organizers instructed all teenagers not to call their parents if something bad happened abroad. We were to contact our host families first, then the school agents which would relay the information to the parents, as needed. They did not want us teenagers to alarm our super-protective Brasilian parents with things like, "OMG, I am bleeding (from a paper cut)!" My over-reacting mother thought the worst had happened. Plane crash or car accident–one of the two. In her mind, I was in the hospital and nobody from the school had the decency to call her and let her know. She was shocked to learn that I was so involved in my new activities that I had forgotten about my promise. I cried that night for a half hour before falling asleep. I felt guilty and selfish. I missed my family, but I also loved being in America. I was confused.

Those three weeks flew by. I made sure to call my parents every other day to keep them up-to-date on what was going on. Our group went back to San Francisco a couple of times. We visited the Alcatraz Island and Fisherman’s Wharf, bought souvenirs at Pier 39, went shopping at Union Square, had lunch in Chinatown, admired the beautiful Victorian mansions while walking down Lombard Street, and rode on a cable car. A trip to San Francisco is not complete without a ride on one of the legendary cable cars!

It was time to say good-bye to Roy and Dorothy. I couldn't thank them enough for all they did for me. They welcomed a foreign teenager in their home, fed her, drove her to and from school every day, introduced her to family and friends, taught her how to clean, cook, do laundry, iron, pick boysenberries from the backyard and loved her as their own granddaughter. I want to pause here to say THANK YOU to all of the families worldwide who host exchange students with love and care. You have no idea what it means to us; you change our lives forever! So, thank you from the deepest bottom of my Brasilian heart!

All Brasilian exchange students got on the bus again. This time for a different reason. We had a tour guide! Our exciting schedule: hit LA, Santa Barbara, San Diego and other smaller towns in a week of adventure and unforgettable fun! I swam in the Pacific Ocean in the sun-drenched Santa Barbara; went to the biggest zoo in the world in San Diego; got splashed by the killer whale at Sea World; walked down Rodeo Drive like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman; put my feet in the footprints of Carmen Miranda, Tom Hanks, and Frank Sinatra outside Mann’s Chinese Theater in LA; had a picture taken laying on an empty star on the sidewalks of Hollywood Boulevard; saw the Hollywood sign from the Griffith observatory; had a blast in Disneyland; and got lost at Universal Studios.

The trip ended sooner than later. I fell asleep on the flights back home. One of the first things I said to my mom when I saw her at the airport in Belo Horizonte, Brasil, was: 
Mãe, I decided I am going to save up all my money and go to America again next year and the year after... I want to spend all my vacations there from now on!”

My life was never going to be the same. The Bridge, that Golden Gate Bridge, changed me forever. My country was not enough anymore. Later on in life, I lived the American Dream in the USA for eleven years. I saw my family every now and then, either I went to Brazil or they came to America. They haven’t seen the bridge yet…


* Brasil is spelled with "s" in Portuguese