I'm sorry to be a wimp, but, it's cold here in the mornings. I know it's all springy and pretty and the cherry trees are blossoming early and you can get away with leaving a window cracked over night. But when you've just come from a praia next to a turquoise ocean in América do Sul, forty five degrees is downright frosty. Um, and where's my fruit? With Brazil's delicious heat comes delicious food, and now I am very spoiled. Blog readers will know there's a slight fruit obsession round these parts.
Mornings in the Northeast of Brazil went something like this:
- Wake to sounds of saguim whistling and carambola hitting the ground.
- Open shutters and gaze at mamão tree to see if any are ripe yet.
- Pull on shorts and put coffee on to brew. Wander out in bare feet to say good morning to monkeys.
- Putter through the neighborhood chatting with said monkeys, picking and eating azeitona, pitanga, and acerola.
- Marvel at the size of the jaca fruit. Some are as big as toddlers, I swear!
- Imagine I might actually see a sloth someday (preguiça).
- Pick and take home huge abacate that needs time off the tree to ripen, and pick up small, fallen manga for a snack later.
- Collect carambola that have dropped overnight, and eat them whole on the porch with a cup of coffee.
- Decide to go to the beach.
- Curse at yet another truck that says "100% Jesus." Declare yourself 100% pansy, 100% monkey-lover, 100% bummed that evangelicalism has colonized the Brazilian mind.
- Smell roasting castanha along the road, slam on brakes and buy a bag.
- Swim and lounge. Buy abacaxi and boiled amendoim from vendors when hungry. Drink coco, which is a fresh coconut with a straw in it. No container necessary.
- Visit farmers market on the way home.