Almost imediately on arriving in Belem our Couchsurfing host Lysmar took us out for a walking tour of the central city.
As he explained, with how busy things were about to get there wouldn't really be another opportunity.
The reason for this was that in Belem it was the Friday before Cirio de Nazare. On the second Sunday in October up to a million people accompany a miraculous image of Mary of Nazareth in a procession from the Cathedral de Sé to the Basilica de nos Senhora de Nazare. What makes the image so miraculous you ask?
It was discovered on the riverbank by a fisherman in 1792. He took it home only to find that overnight it disappeared and returned to the spot where he'd found it. This happened a few more times before he got the (obvious!) message that it was a sign to build a shrine to Mary on the site.
I'm not sure when she stopped returning, as while her official home is on the site of the shrine (now the basilica), it's actually a replica on display there, with the actual image stored securely in a monastery (or was it a seminary?) a block or so away. (She makes the procession to the Cathedral de Sé on the night before the main event).
Coincidentally the Basilica was our first stop. While we looked to be the only foreigners around we clearly weren't the only out of town tourists, as dozens of others were milling about the cathedral, taking photos of its marble ceiling, paintings from the life of Christ and, of course, the statue of Mary herself, who kept an eye on proceedings from her spot above and behind the altar. All of this in the middle of a service! But no one seemed to mind, so we were reasonably content to join them.
Next was a visit to one of the many artisan's markets that spring up around the procession route. These are both an opportunity for local craftspersons to sell their wares and for out of town visitors to fund their pilgrimage. Cool local stuff on sale included lots of colourful balsa wood carvings (birds, riverboats, ferris wheels), balata (natural rubber) statuary and toys, and sculpture rendering the different common breeds of water buffalo in the area. Lysmar and heaps of other people were wandering around snapping photos of the crafts, which would annoy a lot of sellers back home, but here everyone was entirely cool with it.
From the Basilica we headed down to the riverfront and the tidied up/touristified area of the port called Estação das Docas. Amongst other fancy restaurants and shops it also held the Amazon Brewery. The oldest craft brewery in Brazil, almost all of their beers feature Amazonian ingredients. So we had an Açai stout, a priprioca red ale and a tapereba witbier amongst others. And I'm happy to say that, as in Sao Paulo, the beers were all fault free and good!
After the Amazonian beers came a bunch of Amazonian produce at the market. I'm a big fan of markets and if they've got a profusion of local and/or unique goods then so much the better.
The Ver o Peso market was filled with people "peeling" Brazil nuts with their machetes, stacks of the jambu leaves that are a key feature in local cooking, homemade condiments and drinks (including all sorts of different flavoured cachaças and various jambu extract sauces). And of course at the restaurants, lots of fish and açai, which is heavily cultivated in the area.
On our way home we got to taste some of the cuisine that these ingredients inspire. Sarah had Tacaca, a shrimp soup, sour and spicy and filled with the aromatic (it smells kind of like coriander leaf) jambu leaves. The jambu leaf has two other effects as well: when cooked it produces a clear, viscous gloop that sits at the bottom of the bowl (it wasn't terrible, but I wasn't a huge fan) and it gives a similar mouth tingling, numbing sensation to Sichuan pepper. The overall impression of Tacaca was of a Brazilian version of Tom Yum Gung.
Meanwhile I enjoyed some Maniçoba, a dark green (almost black) stew of Manioc leaves, bacon, blood sausage, pork belly and jerked pork. It doesn't look that fabulous, and I'm not sure what they meant by jerked, but it was absolutely delicious (and super rich).
The big meal set us up nicely for an afternoon nap before we hit the town for the first of the major pre-Cirio festivities, the Auto do Cirio.
Lysmar got us an Uber to near the Cathedral de Sé, but traffic was already getting heavy as we approached, so we hopped out and soon were wending our way (with heaps of others) into the narrow streets of Belem's old town.
Somehow or other we emerged right near a mobile (it was on top of a truck full of speakers!) stage. The air was hot and the crowd was thick and energetic as a couple of singers and a rock-ish band played on top of the stage. But this was just the warmup. All of a sudden a samba band only a few metres away (I'd scarcely noticed them before!) burst into action. Somehow the truck-stage found room to start down the street, the samba band got moving behind it and all of a sudden we were in the middle of a parade. The brilliantly (and sometimes bizarrely) or costumed dancers followed, and the mini-floats. And a few costumed individual who were practically floats themselves. And then we ourselves were off, following them through the same narrow streets we'd arrived via.
I've never been to a Latin American carnival event before, but this was exactly what I thought it must be like. A crush of bodies, all dancing shaking, smiling, drinking, buying drinks from the vendors who miraculously managed to walk through the crowd with coolers on their heads or (not sure which is more miraculous) navigate carts or bikes through it.
It took us maybe twenty rhythmic, thumping minutes to arrive back at the Cathedral where the parade parked in front of the stage while a troupe of clowns (I think? We were right near the side of the stage and could barely see them) performed.
And then the parade was off again. The thumping, swelling, dancing snake made its way to a public square where the next show took place in front of, and out the windows of, a beautiful old blue and white tiles building. A choir of drag queens singing Ave Maria. The crowning of the three (black, white and Amerindian) queens. More choral exercises, then off again. We leapt out ahead of the parade this time to get a good(ish) spot for the final show. It featured a drag queen dance ensemble (Vogue-I Will Survive Mashup), a Brazilian pop band, and then for the finale, a small crowd of (I gather) famous musicians played continuously for maybe half an hour as all the parade participants strutted their stuff on stage.
All through this, chants of "Ele Não!" ("Not Him!") would erupt in the crowd. Brazil is in the middle of a presidential election. After the first round it seems almost certain that far right candidate Jair Bolosonaro is going to win. He's a genuinely scary candidate who has said (amongst many other things) that the military dictatorship of the 60s and 70s was great, that their torture of opponents was fine but they really ought to have just killed them all, that a female parliamentarian "wasn't worth raping," and that Brazil's poor, black and Amerindian populations are a drain on society and should be dealt with by martial law, forced sterilisation and various other means. The main focus of his campaign is on getting rid of corruption and restoring "family values," but I wouldn't want him to be my head of state in a million years.
We'd seen lots of posters, stickers and t-shirts supporting him elsewhere in the country, so it was wonderful to see such strong opposition at this event. There were heaps of people with signs reading things like "Fraterno Verdadeiro Cristão, Facismo Não!" ("True Christian Brotherhood, Not Fascism!") and many more wearing #13 (the poll number of Fernando Haddad, his opponent in the second round of the election) stickers. True, Para was one of a only five (out of twenty seven) states that Bolosonaro didn't win in the first round, and he did get 46% of the vote, but where there are energetic, passionate people like these, there's hope.
Anyhow, enough politics. Back to the party!
By the time we'd made it home it was almost 02:00. For Sarah and I who'd been more or less going to bed with sunset for the previous week it was way past our bedtime.
But only so that we could get up and join the next round of Cirio festivities the following morning!
Lysmar was going to visit his mom, so we were on our own for checking out the Motorcycles' Cirio. We and thousands of others were walking into town and saw the preparation for it. Maybe a kilometre of six lane road was packed kerb to kerb with motorbikes, many of them decorated or carrying replicas of Senhora de Nazare attached to the handlebars.
And after that came the Cirio Fluvial. If every motorcycle owner in Belem had joined the bikers' procession, every person who owned a vessel of any sort had joined the river procession. From jetskis to fishing boats to huge passenger ferries to Brazilian navy vessels. We only caught the last quarter or so of it, but we did get our first glimpse of the Senhora herself on the deck of a Navy corvette.
Just before the Cirio Fluvial ended we made our way down to the market we'd visited the day before. I wanted to take some photos (my phone had been acting up the previous day). And more importantly we wanted to eat at some of the fun and delicious restaurant stalls located there.
We'd already had a couple of classics of Pará cuisine the night before, but another, açai con peixe (fish with açai) was the feature item on the menu there.
I was slightly familiar with açai before coming to Brazil, but here in its heartland was the first time I'd tried it without sugar added. On its own, açai is still slightly fruity, but it's notably bitter and earthy as well, so it is a pretty good accompaniment to savoury dishes.
During our meal a small fire broke out in the kitchen of one of the food stalls maybe 60m away. We and others were immediately on our guard. I'd gone so far as to lay our payment on the table and stand up, prepared to leave. The fire itself wasn't huge, but given how crowded it was in the are of the market, you had the feeling that a panic there could be very dangerous. The fire was doused within less than a minute though and we were able to go back to our lunch with no fear of being trampled by a crowd.
Speaking of crowds, after we'd returned home and had another afternoon rest, Lysmar took us out to see the largest of the pre-Cirio processions, the previously mentioned one from the basilica to the Cathedral de Sé. Indeed, this procession is often of similar size to the main event.
Even in the one small section where we watched the crowds were immense. Thousands upon thousands standing watching, waiting for a glimpse of the Senhora herself, packed into a sweaty fraternity by their own numbers and the (cooler, but still) tropical air.
And if the crowd watching was a little uncomfortable, it is was undoubtedly only devoted bliss that kept many in the procession going. Almost all of them walked barefoot, many carrying symbols of their prayers. Often these were wax images (a baby's head, injured body parts) but were also sometimes more realist (piles of actual schoolbooks resting on the head).
And all around water was being passed in cups to walkers or simply thrown out over the crowd. This was especially important to those holding the Rope. As she proceeds, the image is pulled by thousands upon thousands of worshipers grasping the rope connected to her palanquin (it's not quite technically a palanquin, but the image seems right).
In fact, those holding the rope aren't really pulling her. Rather they're engaging in a tug of war with those far ahead or behind who are moving at a slightly different pace, almost having a wrestling match trying to maintain their often tenuous hold on the cord, all while trying to avoid being crushed from ahead or behind, or sucumbing to heat stroke. It looked tremendously uncomfortable. And every now and the you'd hear the blasting whistles of a crew of a dozen-ish Red Cross or other medical volunteers partiny the crowd nearly biblically as they rushed past, bearing a stretcher above their heads, occupied by someone who had collapsed or been otherwise injured during the procession.
The crowd would often sing as they walked. Some songs directly connected to the Cirio, others (e.g. Ave Maria) old Catholic favourites.
When the Senhora herself appeared (we'd had considerable warning of this, as Lysmar had an app on his phone that showed you her progress in real-time) the area above the crowd turned into a sea of LCD screens as everyone raised their phones to capture the moment on picture or video. And everyone joined in the song which, somewhat surreally, was a Portuguese (and doubtless with lyrics considerably modified from the recorded track) version of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah.
The Senhora herself, and the glass palanquin she rides in are surprisingly small. But it's the devotion that's the thing, and even very un-Catholics like Sarah and I felt the excitement and the warmth of community with all those around us.
Speaking of un-Catholics, after the procession had come and gone, the streets relatively empty save for empty foil-topped plastic water cups and a mushy paste of wet and thoroughly foot-pulverized cardboard, we moved less than 100m to join one of Brazil's oldest gay parties, Chiquita. 2018 was the fortieth anniversary of its founding as a reaction to the intolerance of the church to homosexuals. But these days many of the participants (if not the devout adherents [and if them, then if not the church hierarchy {and actually to some degree even them, as they'd been a sponsor of the Diversity of Love themed Auto-Cirio}]) are happy participants too. Despite our spot near the porta-loos, despite our being constantly jostled by people coming and going (and it felt like I was the only one who care about this at all) we had a pretty fun time watching the concert. Particularly the glam-rock performed by the festival's founder in a spectacular sequinned jumpsuit.
It was another late night, so Sarah and I actually just caught the wrap-up of the Cirio itself the next morning, seeing the crowds streaming away from the basilica as we arrived. We wandered about amongst the crowds taking advantage of the Cirio buzz to give us snacking opportunities that would otherwise be absent on a Sunday: Delicious ice cream whose sticky texture reminded me of Lebanese ice cream. Sarah had a guava+cheese (yeah, I know what it sounds like, but A. It was good and, B. Sarah.) Cheese.] And a couple of savoury pastries plus icy cold pineapple juice.
Munching away we wandered through the city streets and into a residential area. It was fun seeing everyone preparing their courtyards/garages/balconies for post-Cirio celebrations with friends and family. Lysmar later told us that Cirio is a bigger deal than Christmas in Belem. Whether they are devoted Catholics, protestants (we saw big celebrations on at several Baptist churches the night before Cirio) or entirely secular, it is the peak of the year's calendar.
Through the residential neighbourhoods and we ended up at Mangal das Garças (Mangrove of Herons). This place is a smallish park (maybe 300x250m?) park next to the river that provides a protected home and feeders for a variety of birds. They're free to come and go as they please, but as the feeders are designed to only be usable by certain species, you tend to find them there.
We probably spent a couple of hours there, admiring the loads of great egrets, iguanas, flamingos, the lone Jabiru stork and, most excitingly, the couple of dozen scarlet ibices (I know that's not the plural of "ibis" at all. But it amuses me to think of it as the plural of ibex, so now it just flows naturally off of the tongue). Several of these were birds we'd missed out on seeing at Bigi Pan in Suriname, so even though it wasn't quite the same it was cool to spot them in Belem.
We spent one more evening with Lysmar. It was a Sunday and apparently we'd left it a bit too late to go find something to eat, as by 21:00 almost the only place open was the food court at a nearby mall. No matter! I got to fulfil a Brazilian fast food wish (and take full advantage of free refills on the drinks by having four full cups of Fanta guarana flavour!)
Monday was a half-day holiday in Belem, so we had plenty of time to spend with Lysmar then too. We'd been so busy (in no small part due to his showing us cool stuff to do) that we hadn't managed to cook a meal for our host yet! We remedied this by producing a big stack of crepes (ham + cheese and chocolate + banana) that we all shared for brunch before Sarah and I headed to the port to buy tickets for our onward boat journey.
Thanks to Lysmar's advice (in short, always ask for a discount on the posted price. You'll almost invariably get one) we paid only 175 Reais each (NZD65) for the 60 hour journey upriver to Santarem.
There was one small snag, which was that the boat was leaving from a different port than the one we were at. We took an Uber there (which cost almost the exact same as bus fares for two with a change of buses would have). This was no bad thing, as we might have struggled a bit to find the port. And it was in a bit of a scruffy looking neighbourhood. But our driver got us there no problems and when he tooted his horn the sheet metal door opened up and the boat of the appropriate name was sitting by the pier, loading up for the journey.
Before finishing I'll say a big thanks to Lysmar who made our visit to Belem on its biggest weekend of the year even more memorable.
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