damned Brazilian bologna

I sort of danced around the topic of Amber's health in the last posting, mostly because I wasn't sure if her mother knew the story yet, and partly because it probably isn't the least bit interesting anymore.

The real story is that she had a mild relapse after our trip to the dunes. Her fever shot back up to around 102 the day after the tour, and she spend the next five days in our hotel room. The nausea was back, too--so lots of soup and liquid tylenol for a day or two. She got better quickly, but her body is clearly a long ways from being okay. Every time she spends even half an hour outside--even in the shade--she comes back inside with a mild fever. Not fun.

In case I forgot... if you see a mosquito today, smash it for me.

Twice. One smashing for each time Amber has had a high fever.

So we stayed in Barreirinhas for a full week, just for health reasons. Nice town, but nothing to do there. No bookstores, movie theaters, or newspapers. And only one TV channel, with nothing in English for poor Amber. The boredom sometimes seems to be a worse villian than the dengue.

We're back in São Luiz just to build her strength back up for the next bit of traveling, a flight to Fortaleza, probably on Thursday. And she'll be back in bed there while I have a good look around the city, scouting for places to rent an apartment.

In the meantime, I think we're settling into some routines. It's all about wasting time as pleasantly as possible, in spite of the fact that we're in places that aren't necessarily inspiring to us.

For example, Amber is in the hotel room. Nice room. Not inspiring.

Breakfast is always included in Brazilian hotels and pousadas. We've experienced the full gamut of Brazilian lodging options, from hammock space on a boat to dingy crap motel to mid-range restored colonial mansion to five-star hotel, and the breakfast is always the same. Bread, juice, coffee, fruit (always papaya; pineapple or watermelon if you're lucky), and then something to put on the bread. Like "ham."

By and large, I really like Brazil. A lot. And if you're still reading this blog in a few weeks, you'll probably hear a lot more about why.

But then there's the ham. Why do they have to process the living hell out of it, and turn it into bologna? It's honestly a challenge to find any lunch meat--turkey- or pig-based--that doesn't taste like bologna. And why do they have to do the same thing with juices? If you go to a grocery store in Brazil, you can't buy a bottle or box or jug of just juice. It's always some sugary juice beverage. If you're particularly unlucky, you'll get a soy-based sugary juice beverage. This in the land of the most amazing fruit on earth. Very strange.

Okay, that's my bit of gringo whining for the day. If you're keeping track at home, today was morning #38 of bologna and papaya for breakfast. Since we're just killing time these days, it's all about trying to make breakfast as long of an affair as it humanly possible. So that means lingering over a third (small) helping of bologna and papaya. Every day. It's the routine, now.

Coming soon: pictures of my new potbelly.