The Palace

A great idea – Hyperinflation – The pantry – A quintillion – Spending quickly – Deep sea fish

There are many countries in this world, one hundred and ninety five at last count, all using paper currency to conduct business transactions. In fact the idea of paper money is such a good one most people in living memory don’t recall using any other form of currency to transact business. Having money is a good thing, having a lot of money is a great thing, but having too much is another matter entirely.

It is amazing that hyperinflation has been relatively rare in history. I had naively assumed that hyperinflation came about when the government let loose the printing presses and there is simply too much money. But it turns out that the causes of hyperinflation are more complicated and related to make-your-head-spin aspects of a countries’ monetary policy like the velocity of money. In this post I will discuss the history of hyperinflation in Brazil and how my friend Dalva’s family and other ordinary folk dealt with it.

Biscuits?

The small room was crammed full of food and household necessities. More than a pantry, it was a Barry Bonds of pantries on steroids, a veritable mini-market unto itself. There was soap, cooking oil, beans, rice, salt, and a myriad other goods that we need for daily life. The interesting thing about this room was that it was not unique – homes all over Brazil sprouted these little rooms because the money was useless and everyone got rid of it as quickly as possible. With the rapidly devaluating money people bought the goods they needed and hoarded them.

A visit to the museum of money (Casa dos Contos) in Ouro Preto seemed harmless enough – but walking through the rooms an astounding story presented itself. Rather uneventfully, between 1690-1942 Brazilians used the Real as their money, until it was replaced by the Cruzeiro (cross, as in cross off the last three zeroes) at a rate of 1,000 to 1. Then the story got interesting – in rapid succession came the Cruzeiro Novo, Cruzado, Cruzado Novo, cruzeiro (again), and cruzeiro real. All changed hands at 1000 to 1, so one cruziero real was 1,000,000,000,000,000,000 or one quintillion of the old reais!

Innovative design – no need to arrange face up!

Once in a while familiar faces looked out at us from the notes, our favorite Brazilian heroes – Santos Dumont, Cândido Rondon, Getúlio Vargas, Juscelino Kubitschek, Adelir de Carli… (Okay, I lied about the last one, but he so deserves to be on currency!) The government must have worried about running out of important people to put on bills! Innovative designs, overprints, and vibrant colors created a bewildering array of notes – it is a tribute to the Brazilians that they kept them straight.

Dalva’s mom

As soon as Dalva’s mother got paid she rushed to the Cotripal supermarket and bought as much stuff as she could. In an enduring image of this period Cotripal would be filled with clerks with pricing machines, changing the prices of everything. Salaries were not denominated in the prevalent currency but a base + index method that took inflation into account. Looking at it from the outside it sounds a little surreal but for everyday Brazilians living within this universe it seemed completely normal. So normal that…

Some people thrived in this environment, incredible as that may seem. The reason why hyperinflation is hard to stop once it gets started is that there is a vicious feedback loop, things cost more so money supply has to be increased, which in turn causes the prices to go up, so more money is required, etc. In order to convince people to put their money in banks they had to pay huge interest rates, so high that some people were able to live off the interest. Even though the prices went up their incomes went up faster, down to the point that little capital was needed to generate great income. When the hyperinflation finally ended they became impoverished. Since they had been expecting high interest rates they had little capital when the economy returned to normal. They were like deep sea fishes that turn their insides out when brought up to the surface from the crushing depths.

Business as usual

The locomotive of hyperinflation had such inertia that it was very difficult to stop and plan after plan failed. Finally the Real plan, based on sound fundamental policy like, don’t spend money that you don’t have and don’t promise the people what you can’t give won out. But the toughest part was getting the people to not expect hyperinflation, because after so many years it was too weird living without it…

Serene Christ. For Panorama click here.

The beat – A party everyday – Razor’s edge. (Map this!)

The beat is loud and thick, it reverberates in my chest. All around us are bodies gyrating, dancing to a drunken singer with a voice made rough and gravelly by cigarette smoke and bad living. The favela hums with excitement and taxis crawl forward through dense million man march crowds at a speed where the needle is glued to zero. They are the spillover from the Samba school because they don’t want to pay to dance or can’t pay to dance and they dance to the music echoing from the Samba school as it mixes with home-made frog amplifiers and decibel drag racer wanna be Volkswagens. Inside the Samba school gravel guy screams over the pulsing crowd bathed with complexion unflattering neon light and lonely neglected Caiprinhas stand diluted with ice cubes. This is Rio where the meter of life is pegged to eleven.

View from Carmen e Fernando. For Panorama click here.

There is a party everyday, every single day. There is music, debate, pinga and a constant stream of artists, relatives, neighbors and unidentified hangers on. Santa Theresa is a tightly knit community and everybody knows everybody and everybody is somebody and nobody is excluded. At least nobody worth mentioning. The party keeps going past our bedtime but no worry there is another tomorrow and magically there will be beer, Caipirinhas, and pinga. On this merry-go-round you can get on and off as many times as you like. This is Rio where everyone eats all the candied crab apples all at once and gulps them down with Caipirinhas.

Copacabana beach from Sugarloaf. For Panorama click here.

It is the razor’s edge, life honed to perfection and infinitely worth living. Everywhere there is the happiness of wild abandon, a frenzy of life to be lived NOW, for in the shadows lurks the reaper. A stilletto, an aging revolver, or an automatic weapon can stand in for the scythe. For most the blow will never fall but it quickens the pace and warms the blood. There is nothing like the threat of death to realize the value of life, a life not worth risking is a life not worth living. The Samba drum beats are the ticking of the clock thumping you in the chest like CPR, bringing you back to life. Don’t waste your time, live, dance, and have Caipirinhas.

Rio has the most dramatic geography of any city I have visited and it is very close to dethroning Rome as the most interesting. South American in every sense it is not a European wanna be like San Francisco, or Toronto. A Hell-Bound train, it is time to stop the clock.

Favela Tour

City of God – Violence – A paradox – “Middle class” favela – Drugs and guns – A civic challenge. (Map this!)

The very name “Rio de Janeiro” conjures up visions of gun-touting hoodlums, cars running red lights for fear of stopping and a population terrorized by the vast disparity between classes.

Corcovado. Click here for panorama.

This viewpoint is based on travelers’ accounts, who seems to love Brazil inspite of it. The movie “Cidade de Deus” or “City of God” did nothing to dispel this, showing Rio de Janeiro to be a city of murder and mayhem. (I do love the movie). It depicts youngsters with guns, drug lords ruling domains larger than a mid-size city and residents living in a war zone.

This tarred image seems to apply to all of Brazil, so we were fully expecting to be on tenterhooks all the time while visiting, Guatemala style. However, we found the Pantanal and the western states of Brazil to be quite tranquil, with no more precautions required than the normal ones we take with ourselves and the car in any other country.

Sugarloaf

But back to Rio. The film “Black Orpheus” or “Orfeu Negro” shows another side of Rio and the favelas – the sense of community, a joie-de-vivre and music. Most samba schools are to be found in favelas. Residents of Rio describe the city as a paradox. On one hand, it has breathtaking scenery with islands, cliffs and golden beaches. On the other, swathes of tall, imposing skyscrapers on beautiful, sandy beaches march hand in hand with unpainted brick buildings of the favelas growing higgledy-piggledy on the hillslopes. The superimposition of this contrasting social phenomenon is amazing, from a viewpoint high above the city it is very easy to tell which one is which.

Favela da Rocinha. Click here for the panorama.

Out of curiosity and a feeling that favelas are an inseparable part of Rio, we took a favela tour of the biggest favela in Rio, Rocinha, with 60,000-90,000 registered inhabitants. This favela is a “middle class” favela, with doctors offices, regular shops, streetside vendors and middle class tenants in abundance. A big road leads into the favela, and when you first enter the area it looks like any third world country. India, Peru, parts of Mexico – all look like that.

View from the terrace

But, on the exhortation of the tour guide, we could not take pictures of people face on. Why? Because they could be drug dealers and thus are breaking the law. Rocinha is governed by the drug gang A.D.A. (Amigos dos Amigos or Friends of Friends), the most violent of the drug gangs in Rio. Elaborate schemes exist for early notification against police entry, including the use of heavily armed men, and even kids whose job is to signal strangers entering a favela. There is only one road through the favela. Access to the rest is through alleyways and stairs in which two people couldn’t fit across. Houses are constructed by paying the local “administration”, which means hardly any construction rules are obeyed – I shudder to think what would happen in case of fire as there were no fire escapes in evidence.

Villa Canoas

Rio is indeed a paradox, and a showcase of the challenge of successfully integrating people with varied economic status into a vibrant and safe city. The population in Brazil seems very well integrated in terms of race but very segregated in terms of economic situations. The rich live in beachside residences in gated communities and the favelas intertwine amongst these, where people serving the needs of the rich live – waiters and gardeners, drivers and cooks, construction workers and painters. I haven’t seen any city that has gracefully and successfully integrated this diverse economic spectrum, and Rio is a stark reminder of this challenge.

Wires	Alley	School

Santos Dumont museum

The 14-bis – Objections – Ingrained fact – A contract – Cluster Ballooning. (Map this!)

I have it on good authority that the Wright brothers were NOT first in flight. That distinction belongs to Alberto Santos Dumont of Brazil. Santos Dumont was born in Brazil and spent most of his aeronautical career in France. It was there that he designed and flew the “14-bis”, the name of his aircraft that has the distinction of producing the first powered heavier than air flight in Europe. On September 13th, 1906, Dumont took to the air with the 14-bis, and found his way into the history books. Or not, it depends on who you talk to. Brazilians will stick to this story as it is what they have learned in school.

The 14-bis

Visiting the Santos Dumont house in Petropolis, which showcases his designs, one cannot be but impressed by this man’s talent and asthetic. It certainly seems within the realm of possibility that he was the first to fly, so why is that distinction, at least in the United States, awarded to the Wright Brothers? I set about to do some research to try and untangle the various claims, and find out why Brazilians find the December 17, 1903 flight at Kitty Hawk unacceptable. There are two reasons most frequently cited: 1) The Wrights worked in secrecy and had few witnesses and 2) Their use of a catapult and rails to achieve flight speed invalidates their record. These objections are explained by the fact that Kitty Hawk did not have many residents to act as witness and that the catapult was used only when there was a sufficiently strong head wind – details can be found on the Wright Brothers’ website.

At the Dumont museum

So why do Brazilians still make the case for Dumont? One of the arguments put forth on the Wright Brothers’ site is that a 1937 dictatorial regime undertook a historical revision that promoted nationalistic thought and all things Brazilian, and wrote Dumont’s name into all textbooks that are published today. It is an ingrained fact of Brazilian culture that Dumont flew first and it is just as difficult for them to accept otherwise as it is for us.

Speaking of us, I would like to present an excerpt from the contract the Smithsonian had to sign in order to display the Wright Flyer:

“Neither the Smithsonian Institution nor its successors nor any museum or other agency, bureau or facilities administered by the United States of America, by the Smithsonian Institution or its successors, shall publish or permit to be displayed a statement or label in connection with or in respect of any aircraft model or design of earlier date than the Wright Aeroplane of 1903, claiming in effect that such aircraft was capable of carrying a man under its own power in controlled flight.”

So the Wrights did better than the dictatorship – they legally bound their claim to be first in flight and suppressed information otherwise. The more one digs into the matter the more muddled it becomes, with all manner of people claiming first in flight, Gustav Whitehead being often mentioned.

Flying balloons

Since we are on the topic of aviation pioneers fron the United States and Brazil, I would like to mention Rev. Adelir Antonio de Carli, a pioneer in the field of cluster ballooning, or flying with lots of small balloons. In order to raise money for a “spiritual rest stop”, he attached himself to 1,000 party balloons and flew off into the great blue yonder. Unfortunately for him he flew higher than he expected and turned into a priestcicle as he attained an altitude of almost 20,000 feet. He was in contact with the authorities for part of his trip and was unable to convey his position because he had never bothered to learn how to use the GPS he had taken with him. For his accomplishments he was awarded a rare double Darwin award. In contrast, american cluster balloon pioneer, “Lawn Chair Larry“, attached his Sears Roebuck lawn chair to some Helium balloons and safely floated down after enjoying his inflght snack of beer and sandwiches. Top that Brazil!

With Dalva

Visiting Panambi – Community – A talk. (Map this!)

“Panambi?, Where’s that?” The immigration officer at the border at Saõ Borja asked us. Panambi is a small town of 30,000 people in the state of Rio Grande do Sul. The residents are mostly German immigrants, the Portuguese spoken here varies quite a bit from the language we heard in the Northern states of Mato Grosso do Sul and Paraná. Set in a hillside among trees, the town, with its German architecture, is quite pleasing.

We were visiting our friends from the Camino Santiago, Dalva and Luis Ribeiro, who we had met in 2002.

A talk at the Scout’s building

We have managed to keep contact over the years, unlike most traveling buddies, mostly thanks to the MSN Instant Messenger. With eight days left on our 30 day Brazilian visa (this is the amount they give you at the Brazilian consulate in Puerto Iguazu) and unsure whether an extension would be possible (we did manage to get a 90 day extension at Policia Federal) we decided to visit Panambi, which was conveniently close to the Argentinian border. We could make it on a tank of Argentinian gas!

Panambi is a very tight knit community, as is often the case in small towns where the residents have been living together for a long time. Everyone was related to everyone else. At parties, “Who is your mother?”, was a common question, reminding me of the close knit communities in India. For a few days, we became part of the Dalva’s close circle of friends and acquaintances.

Trampoline

We met Shirley, the vivacious owner of the language school where Dalva works and her aunt Heidi who also teaches there. When I visited the dentist, I got whirled into the adjoining law offices where Maria Rita (the dentist’s mother-in-law) showed me pictures of her husband’s visit to India through the Rotary Club. We sipped chimarrão everywhere, at Dalva’s house, at her mother’s, at the law offices.

For a moment, we found ourselves in the slightly uncomfortable position of being celebrities. People were very curious to meet these crazy Americans who had been on the road for a year driving to Brazil. Dalva had arranged for us to give a talk on our travels, advertised in the local newspapers. The talk was at the local Scout’s building where we met Oscar, the Scoutmaster, (and also Shirley’s brother), an outgoing, friendly guy who loves to travel. The talk was in Spanish, which we muddled through, which the audience hopefully understood. At the end, we had a picture session, which remined me of a tango performance we had attended in Buenos Aires when the audience had lined up for pictures with the dancers.

The group from Panambi

We have been missing community and Panambi gave us an opportunity to get immersed in one. Now its time to move on. But I will always be grateful for the opportunity to be part of the daily life of regular people in a different culture, which travelers so rarely get a glimpse of. And in spite of the foreign food and customs and language, I was struck by the similarities in characters; for every person in Panambi I could find a twin character in the Bay Area.

Madonna

Utopia – Happiness – Jesuit Missions – Seductive idea

According to the Cambridge dictionary Utopia is defined as “a state where everyone is happy”. All of us may not agree with this definition, since the word is quite overloaded and seems to be interpreted differently by almost everyone I talked to. The Colombia Encyclopedia defines Utopia as “an ideal state where all is ordered for the best for humanity as a whole and where the evils of society, such as poverty and misery, have been eliminated”. Already we have significant disagreement between these two widely used and respected sources; the first is tautologically equivalent to unreachable, while the second may perhaps be achieved through very hard work.

Mission

So it seems that the concept of Utopia is related to another complicated and inexplicable state, that of happiness. Happiness itself is a topic that can fill volumes so I will briefly summarize my findings and opinions. Research seems to show that money and good fortune does not alter a persons happiness permanently, and that people with money spend more time in unpleasant states, such as tension and stress. I empirically agree with the concept of “baseline happiness”, where each person has a baseline level of happiness that they return to after sufficient passage of time past the occurrence of either a good or bad event. i.e. even after winning the lottery you will return to your baseline happiness after a year or so. So I ask: “Does this mean that people with a sufficiently low baseline happiness are to be excluded from any Utopia?” The answer to that, is as they say, beyond the scope of this paper…

Guarani art

The Jesuit Missions in this corner of Paraguay, Argentina, and Brazil tried to develop a Utopian society and the results can either be described as communal and collective bliss, or an oppressive theocratic oligarchy. In my brief foray into this subject I discovered that by the norms of the times the Jesuit communities had a much shorter work week (only six hours as opposed to ten-fourteen for contemporary Europeans) and plenty of time for leisure and reflection. Looking at the art and sculpture of the Guarani, the indigenous people entrusted to Jesuit stewardship, I would venture to guess that it is the work of proud people. It is hard to imagine unhappy, oppressed people creating such beautiful and peaceful looking artwork, for the marks of unhappiness are sure to show up in one’s work. But the interpretations are my own and it brings me to the last observation I want to make about Utopia.

Ruins

The idea of Utopia is strong and powerful that even if we do not live in one, it is seductive to believe that one exists somewhere, either in another geographical location, or in times past, or in times to come. Mariners scouring the seas for Atlantis and adventurers seeking Lost Worlds in the jungle attest to this. So why don’t we all believe, just for the next hour or so that the Guarani lived in a Jesuit sponsored Utopia? It will make us feel better!!

Black Sunday- Gasohol – Blue Monday – Goodbye to Brazil. (Map this!)

Nov 23rd, 2008: Black Sunday. Today was the worst day on our trip. Today, we found out that highest grade Brazilian gas that we have been filling in our car contains more than 20% (23%, to be exact) alcohol. This much alcohol can be damaging to the car’s fuel system and can cause major problems like fuel pump malfunction. So, we have decided to abandon our grand Amazonian adventure and leave Brazil by the shortest route.

Flight of the Cocoi Heron

In Guaranta do Norte, we were on the footsteps of the Amazon. We could see the dirt road that was to be our path through 700 miles of the Amazon jungle. Armed with hammocks and mosquito nets, water and food to keep us for a few days in case we were stranded and three bottles of insect repellent, we were ready to tackle anything.

This trip has been frought with difficulties. The rainy season has started, so the roads are muddy. We couldn’t find malaria prophylactic in Cuiabá, the last big city in Mato Grosso. (Malaria is prevalent in the jungle). Now this. We aren’t sure just how much damage such a high quantity of alcohol will cause, as no-one has tried it. We could go ahead with our grand adventure but this could put the larger goal of reaching Tierra del Fuego at risk. We decided to abandon ship.

Returning South from Guaranta do Norte

Nov 24th 2008: Blue Monday. We turned around and started south again towards Argentina. Brazil has been such a wonderful country. With its soft spoken and friendly people, with incredibly green farms stretching out to the horizon, with its melodious language. Brazil has been a joy to drive through, almost any city you stop at is guaranteed to have a nice hotel with AC, TV (if you care) and internet (which we need). Its lanchonetes (pronounced lanshonesh) and restaurants (res-tau-ranjes) with their amazing buffet spreads make stopping for lunch easy and quick. Its gems like the Amazon river, Salvador de Bahia and Belém which we will not see this time around.

Sunset in Cuiabá

Tomorrow we will see the bright side. We will form alternate plans to see at least Rio somehow or visit friends in Petrópolis. We will be happy to be in Argentina, the friendliest country (after Colombia) in South America, with its wine and great food. We will remember that we are on vacation on a trip that is the envy of a lot of people. But that’s tomorrow. Today I am sad.

Até Logo, Brazil.

Early morning

Points of view – Meeting birders – Meeting photographers – The Pantanal & Photography. (Map this!)

One of our favorite movies is Akira Kurosawa’s “Rashomon“. It relates the story of a murder from four different viewpoints, including the victim’s. I often think how applicable it is in everything that we do, from work to family to traveling. In the rainforest one person sees colorful birds and beautiful insects, another sees discomfort, mosquitoes and heat. Some people reverently see ancient deities in high mountains while others see an irresistible challenge beckoning to them. A hike can be done at a quick, uniform pace that brings color to the cheeks or it can be done at a deliberately slow pace to observe wildlife.

Observation Tower

At the Canopy Tower in Panama, we met avid birders. We are self professed “fair weather” birders, which means that we are interested in colorful tropical birds and tend to ignore the “little brown” ones. The birders took delight in every bird, of whatever shape or color. The little brown bird may have the most melodious call, or display very interesting behavior. By hanging out with these people, we learnt patience, the best birding spots and the enthusiasm for birds of every shape and size.

Sometimes, though, you are lucky enough to meet professionals who are experts in a particular area. And when these experts are friendly, outgoing and fun to hang out with, then you have really hit the jackpot. I will always remember the Pantanal as an extempore lesson in photography in the most amazing surroundings.

Rickety bridge

We had always wanted to visit the Pantanal after reading about it in the National Geographic. And what a place it is! Although most of the Pantanal consists of private farms, this actually adds to its attraction rather than detract from it. The Pantanal is much more accessible than the Manu Biosphere Reserve in Peru, and the wildlife much more easily seen.

The unpaved Transpantaneira road, 147kms long with 126 rickety wooden bridges, is overflowing with wildlife. Crested Caracaras and Chaco Chachalacas are a common sight on the road, while the bridges span areas of swamp pregnant with herons, egrets and caiman, which suddenly disappear under the water with an unnerving “whump”. Kingfishers fly all around you, tall Jabiru stork walk gravely to join their flock or sometimes put on a dance for no apparent reason. I will always remember the walk back to our hotel one rainy night on a road littered with caiman, reluctantly backing away from the black umbrella that our guide was waving at them.

On the Transpantaneira road.

But for me, the most enjoyable part was the long walks with the photographers, they, loaded with not one but two huge lenses and a monstrous tripod and us, with our smaller lenses and the relatively small tripod that they encouraged us to bring along.

Photography

There were frequent stops in the sweltering heat, patiently waiting for that perfect shot to capture the bird in flight or with the early morning sun lighting up its colors. We enjoyed gathering around beer or at meals chatting about the intricacies of the camera to get the perfect exposure. Under common interests, strangers can quickly become friends.

We had set out on this trip resigned to the fact that we would not be able to photograph birds with our small 200mm lens. Our time in the Pantanal with the photographers was the perfect natural workshop which encouraged us to try, to do our best with what we had. Photography, specially with a tripod, can be quite meditative, as you tinker with your equipment, making fine adjustments for your next photo, looking at a world magnified by the telephoto lens, beautifully lit up by the golden rays of the rising sun.

Capuchin	Caiman	Jabiru	Vulture

For more pictures from the Pantanal, click here.

An Old Hobby

Easily measured – Latest target – A word for bread

For the first time in a long time we are in a position where we do not know the local language. Learning languages is addictive and to feed this addiction we travel. There are few goals where ones progress can be simply and easily measured. Mountain climbing in one of them – keep one foot in front of the other and you make progress towards your simple goal; if you turn around then no more progress is made and the goal is not reachable. Similarly, when learning a language you get instant feed back on how well you are progressing by gradually increasing comprehension and communication.

Silly Mammal

So our latest target is Portuguese. In Brazil the language is soft with a lazy pronunciation, it is hard to imagine a Brazilian mafioso being very threatening when the language is so soft and dulcet. I’m sure the mafiosi can make up for this in other ways, but the language has the effect of making the Brazilians seem even more friendly than they are. We are approaching Portuguese much less seriously than we have approached other languages in the past – our efforts are limited to listening to Pimsleur lessons downloaded via the excellent San Francisco Public Library site. The Brazilians for their part laud any effort to speak Portuguese and I get the impression that most Americans who visit speak very little of it, if any.

Above the canopy

One of the most fulfilling parts of learning a new language is that you get a good dose of that culture while at it. Each word is a small history unto itself, a trace of where it has been. So it has been quite interesting encountering Portuguese words from my childhood, those that have woven themselves into Marathi. The word for potato, batata, the word for bucket, balde, and sapata, the word for slipper. But the most interesting has been pao. Pao, the hated word of hindu fundamentalists, part of paowala, the pejorative term for white man. Pao, a word overloaded with culture and meaning is the word for bread.

Transpantaneira	Roberto