As some of you already know, my enabler friend Lisa King has convinced me to accompany her Habitat for Humanity team to Mozambique this October, to build houses for AIDS orphans. (She really had to twist my arm for all of about a millisecond.) When someone provides me with a fantastic opportunity like this, I simply must heed the call. I've never done a volunteer trip like this before, and I'm beyond-thrilled.

Lisa is mortar-fied

Our Global Village team will travel to the Xai-Xai district in mid-October, to work alongside villagers who need a decent, affordable place to live. Mozambique has been decimated by AIDS, and a staggering number of children in this region have lost one or both parents to the disease. It should be an intense and rewarding week.

Here's an amazing story published recently by HFH about the Manhica brothers, who live in the province we'll be working in:

And this beautiful slideshow is from Kelley Teague, who was on Lisa's team in Mozambique last year:

OK, here comes the request!
I'm in the middle of raising funds to cover the program fees. (Airfare I have to pay for separately, but I am currently accepting applications from sugar daddies/mamas.) My wonderful and generous family has already kicked in almost half the needed funds, and I must raise the rest by the end of August. Any and all contributions are welcome!

Please visit my fundraising page and consider chipping in a few bucks. Anyone who contributes at least $25 will get a postcard from Mozambique, perfect for hanging on your fridge and impressing your friends.

 I'm still working out the rest of the trip details, but they will likely include some diving (Mozambique supposedly has some of the world's best scuba spots), perhaps a bit of safariliciousness, and almost certainly a stop in South Africa to see my erstwhile coworker Karen. Stay tuned for updates and thanks for your support!

RELATED LINKS:
* Hope Regained | Habitat World May 2012
* Mozambique 2011 slideshow by Kelley Teague
* Sonia's fundraising page
* Habitat for Humanity's Global Village program
* Mozambique Chapter of HFH
* Lisa's 2011 Mozambique pics on Flickr

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Mother's Day is among the trilogy of bittersweet days of my year. But what better way to pay tribute to my dear ol' mum than get out and garden? Most mothers extoll the virtues of eating your veggies, but mine also instilled in me a love of growing your own.

I'm pretty sure she'd be proud of this monster bok choy in my front yard:

...as well as the spicy, garlicky stir-fry we made it into!

The recipe is from somewhere on the interwebs, and essentially calls for an intoxicating mixture of sesame oil, fresh ginger, minced garlic, oyster sauce, soy sauce, some brown sugar, and a little crushed red pepper. Extra points if you toss in other veggies in addition to the bok choy. Om nom nummers!

Happy Mother's Day to all moms out there, past present and future.

Our last afternoon and evening in Rio was nothing short of magical. In a town where every other view is extraordinary, where you get tired of saying "wow," this took it to a whole new level.

Don't get me wrong, we had our fair share of frustrations too. Say it with me: This country needs an easy button! Brazil has the power to take you to the absolute edge of annoyance, and just as you're about to throw in the towel it delivers the goods, and you're so dazzled you forget what all the fuss was about. Our journey up Sugarloaf Mountain was just that.

no lines

We arrived at the ground level ticketing area with high hopes. Sweeeeet, no lines! It was like finding a secret ride at Disney World while all the other suckers waited in line for something obvious like Space Mountain. As we wound our way around the outside of the serpentine and bought our tickets, a huge busload of Asian tourists with fanny packs unloaded. Hah, we smirked, too bad for them!

ohhhhh, buzzkill!

And then, major buzzkillington. That was just the line to get the tickets! Now we'd have to wait in the really really long line to board the actual cablecar. Yes, that line. The one with all those fannypackers who just got off the tourbus, shiny tickets already in hand. Cue the sad trumpets, wah-wah-wah-wahhhhhhhhhh.

The view was actually kinda cool, watching the two sets of cablecars come and go. One set connects the ground with Morro da Urca, the midway point. The second set takes visitors the rest of the way up Pão de Açúcar, aka Sugarloaf. However, standing in the merciless sun for over an hour, and then having a bunch of British asshats cut in front of us as we started getting closer to the front, was kinda not cool. By the time we got in our first cablecar, I was hella crabby.

helicopter rides

Morro da Urca houses some historical exhibits and a lovely visitor's center that shows a film about the history and construction of the Pão de Açúcar cablecar system. The film even features a clip from the James Bond movie Moonraker where nasty henchman Jaws attempts to bite through the cable and send Bond plummeting to his death. Morro da Urca is also where you can catch a ubiquitous helicopter ride around Rio, although the price was a bit out of our range. Thankfully there was just enough shade to cop a quick respite and get a snack. Which, due to our limited Portuguese, turned out to not be a tasty milkshake but instead some vile noxious medicinal swill. Ewwww! Have I mentioned that This Country Needs an Easy Button?

final stretch between the Morro & the Pão

Nevermind, onward and upward! My crankipants attitude finally abated once we reached our final destination, and breathtaking views of Rio unfolded across 360 splendid degrees. The view from the Pão is the bomb. Not only did we see some fabulous beaches:

Praia Vermelha & Copacabana

Botafogo

great day for a sail

...and of course, The Big J off in the distance:

ever present

...but also some impressive flora and fauna:

lounge lizards

cheeky monkey

floralicious

And then the sun began to set.

golden hour

All frustrations melted away in a glossy mist of pinks and purples and gold.

Oh.

Em.

Gee.

Worth a little crabbypatty 'tude earlier in the day? Absofrickinlutely.

And then darkness fell, and the view continued to get impossibly more beautiful.

bark at the moon

All at once we realized we didn't want to go! Not down the mountain, not back home, not to reality. Who needs reality when you have this view???

sighhhhhhhh

Oh yeah, that's right, someone's gotta replenish the coffers for the next adventure. Back to reality it is. Beijos until next time, Rio.

RELATED POSTS/LINKS:
* browse all pics from Pão de Açúcar
* browse all Brazil pics posted so far
* Sugarloaf smooches
* Holy Floats, Batman (part two)
* Holy Floats, Batman (part one)
* browse all posts in Brazil category

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night falls on Rio

There's a reason everyone who's been to Rio ranks it among their favorite cities. It's gawjeous! For Photo Friday this week, here's another snap from our trip up Pão de Açúcar/Sugarloaf. If you want a sneak peek, all Sugarloaf pics have been posted. And the full story is coming soon. Really. Soon. (What can I say? Spring is in the air, and real life has gotten in the way this week!)

For more fabulous travel snaps, check out DeliciousBaby's Photo Friday.

RELATED POSTS/LINKS:
* Holy Floats, Batman (part two)
* Holy Floats, Batman (part one)
* Snoof and fuzzles, tringlers and trappings
* We had trouble in getting to Solla Sollew
* Fried, fried, pink stuff, fried
* Impersonal Jesus
* The sun sets on another epic trip
* Sambódromo favorites
* Dois Gringos em Dois Irmãos
* Samba till you drop
* In a Rio state of mind
* browse all pics from Pão de Açúcar
* browse all Brazil pics posted so far

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I haven't forgotten about you, I swear I haven't. I'm working on a post that does NOT involve a million parade pics, about our fabulous last day in Rio, spent atop Pão de Açúcar (Sugarloaf Mountain). Hang tight, it's coming!

Meanwhile, now is a great time to catch up on these Carnavalrific posts:

* Holy Floats, Batman (part two)
* Holy Floats, Batman (part one)
* Snoof and fuzzles, tringlers and trappings
* We had trouble in getting to Solla Sollew
* Fried, fried, pink stuff, fried
* Impersonal Jesus
* The sun sets on another epic trip
* Sambódromo favorites
* Dois Gringos em Dois Irmãos
* Samba till you drop
* In a Rio state of mind

Which is your favorite and why?

Last week we explored some of the splendiforous parade floats that make their way through Rio's Sambódromo during Carnaval. Believe it or not, I only got halfway through. For this week's Photo Friday post, here's a few more.

Most floats were preceded by a group on the ground in matching costumes. Sometimes the theme was easier to detect, sometimes it was more about coordinated colors.

A common float element was a spectacular giant face.

And then there were some outlandish themes:

The Porto da Pedra school decided to celebrate calcium this year...

Of course I totally love this Mocidade colored pencil float...

The people at top of the floats tended to sport the skimpiest costumes, but always-always had something to hold onto.

And some floats just blew me away...

Are you experiencing parade overkill yet? Try sitting and watching these in-person for 9 hours straight! Ay samba-caramba!

I'll leave you with a few interesting characters found aboard floats:

For more fabulous travel snaps, check out DeliciousBaby's Photo Friday.

RELATED POSTS:
* Photo Friday: Holy Floats, Batman (part one)
* Photo Friday: snoof and fuzzles, tringlers and trappings
* We had trouble in getting to Solla Sollew
* Photo Friday: Sambódromo favorites
* browse all Brazil posts

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Rio's samba parade costumes are brilliant, but the floats are works of mad genius.

Several stories high, often with a dozen or more people aboard, and of course covered in all manner of snoof and fuzzle, parade floats are nothing short of mind-boggling.

One or two of these floatstravaganzas would be flabbergasting to behold. But each samba school has half a dozen, and we watched seven or eight schools over the course of the night. As I've said before, after a while we just got tired of saying "wow."

Ranging from the opulent to the absurd, each float has its own share of theatricality.

And this is just the first half. More to come!

Meanwhile, check out the other great travel snaps at Delicious Baby's Photo Friday.

RELATED POSTS:
* Photo Friday: snoof and fuzzles, tringlers and trappings
* We had trouble in getting to Solla Sollew
* Photo Friday: Sambódromo favorites
* browse all Brazil posts

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On this date in 2007, five Zs snuck a bottle of red wine to the top of the Eiffel Tower to toast one missing Z. Joan Zamborsky had planned to celebrate her 60th birthday in Paris, but just four months prior she was killed in a bizarre car accident that left us reeling, a bit lost, and unsure how to make sense of it all. Instead of cancelling the birthday trip, my siblings and I made arrangements to travel to Paris with our dad.

We hit some typical tourist spots, took a cooking class, and spent March 28 celebrating the wife and mother we'd recently lost.

A few months later, I quit my job and took off for Central America. Because life is short.

In keeping with this week's Seussian theme, I thought I'd feature some more samba parade photos, focusing on the floof and flounce and utter whimsy of the costumes.

All the Whos down in Whoville might've had panpoolers, pantookers, and bisslebigs, but they couldn't hold a candle to these creations. And there's the added effect of about a hundred people marching and dancing and singing together, all identically dressed with giant birds on their heads, like it was no big deal. Just when we got used to it, the next group came marching by in something even wackier.

Parade costumes are full of feathers and spangles, and that's par for the course. But a surprising number of them also incorporated frilly fabrics with froufrou ornamentation.

And strange, unexpected accents.

The amount of work that must go into sewing all these costumes simply boggles the mind.

After a while, we gave up saying "wow!" and "what the..." and just stared in slack-jawed astonishment.

This just scratches the surface of all the amazing things we saw in the Sambódromo. Over the coming weeks I'll continue to curate parade photos, attempting to put them into some logical themes rather than bludgeon you with a gigantic batch of Wow! Next week: Holy floats, Batman!

Meanwhile, check out the other great travel snaps at Delicious Baby's Photo Friday.

RELATED LINKS:
* We had trouble in getting to Solla Sollew
* Photo Friday: Sambódromo favorites
* browse all Brazil posts

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Scuba. In a quiet beach town. And accommodations at a swank hotel. After all the hustle and bustle of Rio during Carnaval, this quick side trip seemed just what the doctor ordered.

decktastic

So we set off for Arraial do Cabo -- where they never have troubles, at least very few -- in our crappy little rental car. Which may as well have been a One Wheel Wubble drawn by a camel, as what should have been a 2-hour journey took us almost four. We got out of Rio with surprisingly little fanfare, but then proceeded to take a wrong turn at Niteroi, hit lots of random traffic on the 106, and almost missed the big turnoff at Araruama. Hey, at least we didn't have to face the Perilous Poozer of Pomplemoose Pass. Considering we were armed with only a handful of Google Maps screenshots, I think we did pretty well.

Arraial do Cabo beach

As we arrived in Arraial, things began to look up. The beaches shone, the breezes blew, and our hotel was indeed a big step up from the sketchy motel we'd been staying at in Rio. For this I have to thank my siblings, who booked this scuba excursion for me as a birthday present. They did their homework! Pousada Caminho do Sol is a beautiful guesthouse just a block from the beach, with a stunning tropical garden and an award-winning restaurant.

After checking into our lovely penthouse room, complete with jacuzzi and beach view, we took a quick snooze before meeting with our divemaster Marcelo. The fact that he came to our hotel was a promising sign. We've had mostly excellent dive experiences, but a hard-learned lesson has taught me to trust my instincts when it comes to choice of divemaster and shop. Here again, the sibs did their homework and managed to select an affable guy who genuinely seemed concerned for our comfort and safety. He answered all our questions, gave us clear instructions for the next day, and left us feeling confident about the whole endeavor.

We had a strange encounter with pink stuff for dinner and then called it an early night, getting a pretty decent sleep despite the increasingly windy conditions outside.

to the harbor!

In all fairness, the scuba debacle that ensued wasn't entirely Marcelo's fault. That week's unusually windy weather made for water temps even colder than usual, necessitating thick wetsuits. Sausage time! Plus the visibility was terrible. We're spoiled, having done over 50 dives in mostly warm, clear, beautiful conditions. I much prefer to dive in just a bathing suit, and hate the feel of being stuffed into a full wetsuit. Maybe if we had our own gear it wouldn't be so bad, but since we don't, it's akin to wearing someone else's bowling shoes. All over your entire body. Bleh. Add in the fact that we got sent off with another divemaster who (a) didn't speak English, and (b) was more concerned with maneuvering his fancy underwater camera than monitoring our safety, and you've got two more strikes. When I had a bit of an equipment malfunction and started surfacing uncontrollably, that was almost the final straw. I wasn't that deep, and managed to ascend fairly slowly, so I didn't get the bends or anything. But I was still pretty freaked out. I almost didn't do the second dive. But since we'd come so far and this outing was so meticulously planned, I decided to go for it. The second dive with Marcelo was a much better experience, until we began to surface and both Mark & I got really nauseous. We're still not entirely sure what caused that bizarre reaction -- tainted air? ill-fitting wetsuits? -- but it's never happened to either of us before. Admittedly not our finest hour.

That night we celebrated our adventures with the best sunset we'd seen in a while, and cheese on a stick. The wind continued to rage.

Rather than come back for a second day of diving, we relaxed on the beach. A wise choice! Not a Quilligan Quail nor a Key Slapping Slippard in sight.

RELATED LINKS:
* browse all Arraial do Cabo pics
* browse all Brazil posts
* WanderFood Wednesday: fried, fried, pink stuff, fried
* Impersonal Jesus
* The sun sets on another epic trip

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crack in a can

There were several times during this trip where we bumped headlong into the realization that we really should have learned more Portuguese. Getting a handle on the local language is typically something we enjoy doing as part of our trip prep. For whatever reason, it didn't happen this time around. We got by with charades and a phrasebook and just plain ol' winging it. For the most part, this worked OK, but it backfired a few notable times.

the scary clowns shoulda clued us in

One such time was our first evening in Arraial do Cabo, a beach town outside Rio where we'd arrived for a scuba junket (more on that in a few days). We weren't in much of an exploratory mood after a long battle with our crappy rental car, so we found a brightly-adorned place near our hotel for a quick bite. The menu listed something called "misto de frango," which purported to be an aggregation of three different types of chicken. Sounds harmless enough, one please!

The waitress proceeded to launch into a lengthy discussion in Portuguese that made absolutely no sense to us, but she seemed trustworthy so we stuck with our order. And this is what showed up:

misto de frango, or just mixed up?

Let's ignore the fact that the third item is french fries, and not chicken of any sort. What in the world is that pink stuff in the middle? Our best guess was some awful mashup of ketchup and mayonnaise. Ew. We dumped plenty of hot sauce in there, plus some "African" sauce Mark found on top of the buffet table, and that did improve the pink goo a bit. We were hungry, so we ate it, what more can I say? All in all, not a total debacle, but hardly a wildly satisfying repast.

On the other hand, we did have some great meals in Arraial do Cabo. One of my favorite things to do in a new city or country is browse the grocery store aisles for unusual local treats. (Side note: This is particularly fun in places with non-Western alphabets where you may have no idea what's inside the package but are still seduced by bright colors and shiny happy graphics.) By far our best Brazilian find was Cheese on a Stick, known locally as queijo de coalho.

on a steek

Normally this would be grilled -- common fare at street stalls -- but since we were sans hibachi at our hotel, we just ate the cheese straight from the package, with crackers and some excellent Chilean wine. Ensconced in snugly hotel robes and enjoying the nighttime views of town, this was the perfect way to unwind after our scuba adventures.

life is good
(and photogeeks, check out that bokeh!)

The other stellar meal in Arraial was, unsurprisingly, at our hotel's restaurant. We thought about giving the clowncar restaurant a second chance, but instead went with the swankier option. A wise choice, rewarded by a lovely view of the pool and gardens, a nice cold bottle of wine, and some delicious fresh seafood dishes. Redemption!

swanktastic lunch at Pousada Caminho do Sol

Be sure to check out Wanderlust & Lipstick's WanderFood Wednesday for more mouth-watering travel foodie posts.

RELATED LINKS:
* Impersonal Jesus
* The sun sets on another epic trip
* Photo Friday: Sambódromo favorites
* Dois Gringos em Dois Irmãos

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pick up the receiver, I'll make you a believer

Need to expunge the sins and excesses of Carnaval? Climb the mount and visit O Cristo Redentor (Christ the Redeemer). The Big J can be seen from nearly all areas of Rio, and is supposedly one of the "New Seven Wonders of the World." Whatever that means. As with most tourist attractions, it's popular for a reason, and was one of the first non-Carnaval items we decided to visit.

at the foot of The Big Jesus

The enormous Jesus statue is perched atop Corcovado mountain, at an elevation of 2300 feet, amid the Tijuca Forest National Park. So the first big decision is how to get up there. We were hoping to catch the train, supposedly a marvel of engineering itself as it goes nearly straight up the mountain. But when we hopped off the bus, there was a 3+ hourlong wait for the next train due to the crush of tourists. So we grabbed a van, which was nearly the same price, and up we went.

journey up Corcovado mountain

oktapodi has a Come-to-Jesus moment

In typical Brazilian fashion (something else to file away under "This Country Needs an Easy Button"), it was explained in broken English that we'd need to pick up another van partway up, but we'd purchased a roundtrip ticket and could come back at any time. What this actually meant was that the "hired car" shuttles only take you to a certain point -- which you could also drive up to yourself, theoretically -- and then you have to get out and buy a ticket for entrance into the park. From there the park shuttles bring you up to the summit. This involves a good bit of standing in perhaps-pointless lines and not being entirely sure what the heck is going on. But you will eventually get there. And so we did. Along with several hundred camera-clicking visitors.

hundreds seeking the perfect shot

just a leeeeetle bit creeeeepy

I found The Big Jesus statue pretty creepy up close. Unless you go for a helicopter tour, it's not possible to enjoy the iconic view over the shoulder of Cristo beaming benevolently down on the city. So we ended up circling the base, looking up at the vacuous blank eyes, searching for the "perfect" photo op. Along with several hundred other tourists doing exactly the same thing.

for the record, I did NOT do this!

your own Impersonal Jesus

There's not really much else to do atop the mountain with Our Lord and Savior, but we'd shelled out the bucks and waited in lines and crammed ourselves in with our fellow man, so we hung out for a while, trying to appreciate the overcast view. The breeze was delightful. And we were able to spot a few familiar landmarks. But after a while all the shoving and jostling for space got to be a bit much. Did I mention there were several hundred people up there at the same time? Whew. We stretched it out a bit by having an overpriced beer at the cafe, but it was eventually time to call it a day and queue up for the ear-popping ride back down.

Jesus in the cafe, serving beer

Worth it? Definitely. Frustrating? A tad. Completely Brazilian? You bet. Stay tuned for our counterpoint experience at Pão de Açúcar.

Big Jesus seen from Botafogo beach

RELATED LINKS:
* browse all photos from Corcovado
* browse all Brazil posts
* The sun sets on another epic trip
* Photo Friday: Sambódromo favorites
* Dois Gringos em Dois Irmãos

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sunset at Pão de Açúcar

Say it with me, kids: WOW! Couldn't have asked for a sweeter ending to our epic trip. This is one of many incredible views of the sun setting over Rio, as seen from Sugarloaf Mountain (Pão de Açúcar), where we spent a good chunk of our last afternoon/evening. Yum!

RELATED POSTS:
* Photo Friday: Sambódromo favorites
* Dois Gringos em Dois Irmãos
* Samba till you drop
* browse all Brazil posts

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the Portela crew, workin' it

shiny objects

We're still recovering from seven straight hours of parades in the Sambódromo on Sunday night (and well into Monday morning). I haven't even looked through all the photos yet. In the meantime, here's a nice quiet shot of us on Leblon beach in front of the iconic Dois Irmãos mountains. From this neighborhood we picked up the shuttle to the parades.

the calm before the storm

RELATED POSTS:
* Samba till you drop
* In a Rio state of mind
* browse all Brazil posts

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