from Sandy Needham

Friday, April 20, 2012

Carnaval & Robbery Dispatch

So, I’ll begin with Carnaval, which arrived on the heels of our travels, because that happened first. The sights and sounds of neighbors returning to their beach houses descended upon us, as always. The traffic on our highway, Rota do Sol (‘route of the sun’ to the beaches south of Natal) increased exponentially during these 5-6 days. Various bearable and unbearable versions of music ensued, ranging from simultaneous background murmurs to the office vibrating with too-heavy woofers from across the street.

Ponta negra desfileWe joined friends in the square in Ponta Negra where an annual parade with giant puppets originates. I dug out my Carnaval wig!

costume

Several of our friends have houses in the northern beach town of São Michel do Gostoso, and others were renting places for the weekend. We accepted the kind invitation from Hian and Ana Paula to stay over in their rental for a couple of days. The town was alive with parading. We were very happy just marching (dancing) along and stopping to take it all in while gabbing with our buddies.

Gostoso 1Gostoso 2Gostoso 3

Gostoso 4

 

 

Monday of Carnaval was spent at a lovely Gostoso beach with some gentle waves, sun, a little hike for a vista, great company and grilled fish. We left in time to drive the two hours home before dark, EXCEPT… that one wrong turn. Our altered route took us through every little town and Podunk Junction where ‘Drag’ parade day was happening. We were stuck in traffic for 3 hours following ‘blocos’ of hairy beauties dancing behind trucks with speakers. It was much better than getting stuck in plain ol’ traffic.

 

 

Gostoso 6Gostoso 7

Upon the hour we had initially planned to arrive home, we reached the raft that carries the car across a river if one has missed the road to the new bridge. As the always-sudden darkness fell, we joined the crisscrossing raft parade. Carnaval turned out just fine.

raft 1IMG_0427

Blasting music concerts near the point between our beach and the next characterized the last two nights of Carnaval. The sound was carried across the water to our bedroom till 4:00am. Festive!

And then the evening of Ash Wednesday descended and the beach and beach houses were abandoned, the music gone, the traffic non-existent, and all became oddly dark and quiet as it does every year.

That Friday we went to a nearby pizza and crepe restaurant run by a guy from Uruguay – really one of the few places nearby to eat at night.

While we sat with a beer awaiting our food, a guy who looked like he was dressed up like an Arab – a cloth tied all around his head and across his face - appeared and approached the couple at the table in front of us with a gun at the end of his outstretched arm. At first we both thought it was a joke, having just seen so many Carnaval costumes. Immediately two others emerged from the bushes and plants surrounding the open restaurant and headed towards the only other two tables with customers. I commented, “Oh, this is a robbery,” and Newton said, “Yes, stay calm.” The owner was just heading out of the kitchen when all of this happened. A masked guy came right over to us and had us follow the others into the kitchen, out of sight from the deserted Rota do Sol that runs in front of the restaurant. I had picked up my purse from the chair, which the robber immediately took from my shoulder along with Newton’s wallet from his back pocket. Of course, the shock prevented much reaction other than just cooperating and hoping no one would get hurt.

I cannot do justice to what only later had the horror/comedy impact of the next moments: feisty Newton decided he might rescue his BRAND NEW iPhone from the US by tucking it into his underwear. A robber noticed and started going for it from the outside of the jeans while the robber who had been behind us placed his gun on Newton’s neck. The phone was rather gingerly worked all the way down Newt’s pants leg and out. I was greatly relieved that the operation to extract it was done without roughness.

All of us were crouching or lying on the kitchen floor, and Newt now joined us (I was under a table next to him and the owner was just beyond the table). The other two couples were a Potiguar native couple who looked a little too poor to be there, even though the restaurant is simple. It turned out that the kid worked there and was able to have a ‘date’ with his girlfriend. Damn. The other couple lives down the block near the restaurant.

It is hard to recall all the minutes that passed with low, gruff orders and such, but when the robbers came to collect watches and…OK – this is emotional - my diamond ring and both our wedding bands, I still recall being rather numb and just hoping their somewhat gentle manner would not change. The owner got pulled to his feet to go back out to the cash register. When they brought him back, they asked about more money in his living quarters. He said there was none, only his family there. His wife and two daughters, 6 and 8, then appeared in the door and joined us crouching on the floor. I felt very sorry for them all going through this, as the generally low-key robbers were the most verbally threatening to the owner while in front of his family.

Because the robbers had also collected car keys from pockets, the owner and we expected them to drive off in our cars. We all stayed on the floor waiting to hear the sound of engines after the robbers left the kitchen. Feisty Newt whispered to me under the table, “I’m gonna get those fuckers with my phone tracker!” After some time, there was no sound and someone got up to confirm they were gone. Our car keys had been left on a table. (Whew.) Cars probably make it much easier to get caught, or possibly the robbers don’t know how to drive.

We hightailed it home so Newton could play the young sleuth on the computer with his iPhone tracking feature. It took quite some time to reach any police, but once we did (through our security company), Newton was in contact with them, following the route of the iPhone signal. As a result, the police actually found some guy in a solitary house in nearby Pium Valley. He had escaped from prison nine days before and had a stash of cell phones, but he turned out not to be one of the three at the restaurant. We were all summoned to the local police post to I.D. the guy from the safe anonymity of a tinted-window car. None of us thought he had been at the scene and none of the cell phones matched, though our robber was clearly an acquaintance of his. The phone signal had moved away from the house when the police had raided and then gone into the woods behind a small settlement of houses. Newton continued talking back and forth to the police, who were reluctant to confront an armed man in the woods in the dark. They finally came over to see the satellite image of the signal’s whereabouts, then went out trolling again. Newton wanted so badly to both help the police catch the guy AND get his cell phone back. He spent the rest of the night tracking the signal, which became more erratic and stuck as the charge became weaker. At 5:00am (daylight) the police gathered to converge on the last phone signal area. Nothing. The head policeman had been particularly excited about this technology and had been pretty diligent the whole night, but the police would have needed to be on the case immediately when the signal was nearby and then to have plowed into the dark after the guy.

We filed a police report with the list of stolen items. Because we had so recently traveled to the US, we were still carrying our New York drivers’ licenses in addition to our Brazilian ones, plus a couple of US credit cards in addition to our Brazilian ones. My good leather purse itself would have soon been packed away to protect it from the marezia (sand and salt in the air), but I hadn’t yet put it away. Newton had just refilled both our wallets with cash in reais. In the purse were expensive sunglasses, travel notes; my Brazilian health insurance card; car and house keys, and Newton’s previous iPhone that I had just inherited when he bought his new one. Adding up the price of everything - getting new house locks, cell phones, replacing car keys and wallets, replacing licenses (a relatively small amount for NY State, but five trips, 6-1/2 hours of waiting and several fees for the Brazilian ones, which we were renewing because it was coincidentally near renewal time), wedding bands and the most valuable item taken, my diamond ring Newton gave me on our eighth anniversary…the tally neared $6,000. We laugh that we were so unsuspecting and felt so safe around here that we practically had ROB ME written on our foreheads! The poor Potiguar couple lost some money and the neighbor couple lost their wedding bands and a watch. I feel some grief for my diamond ring, but the robbery was most devastating for the restaurant owner who, it turns out, had also been robbed in December. His family has never stayed another night there and the restaurant has never opened again.

I hardly need to say what remains to be said, as anyone would know that none of this means anything next to still being alive and sound. As horrible as one might imagine the experience to be, we remain grateful that the robbers had the expertise or the dispositions to remain calm. I’m sure if someone had become hysterical or others at the restaurant had been armed, as the gun lobby in the United States recommends, flying bullets would have left someone wounded or dead.

My left thumb still habitually fiddles with my ring finger, evoking a phantom sensation there. I find that my bare hand tells a big story: of an object that has significance which is only a shadow of what it symbolizes. If I did not possess what the ring represents, the ring would only be a commodity. If the ring were recovered and I got it back tomorrow, I would cry with joy. But here is Newton walking through my life beside me. At this moment I don’t want another valuable thing that someone can take away.

The police told us that the escapee, who went straight back to prison, named two of our robbers by nicknames the police had never heard, so they remain at large. The third robber was just a nervous kid.

Very soon after all of this we heard from a friend about a Brazilian airline special that was ending the following midnight. We didn’t think long: off for Buenos Aires the next week!

Love,

Sandy

Saturday, April 7, 2012

LA ‘Winter’ Dispatch

LAI think it’s easy to drive around Los Angeles and feel like you’re on location. Maybe that is what makes everyone compare LA and New York so much: they both only look like themselves! The tropical palms, the Raymond Chandler stucco houses, ‘50’s-looking doughnut or hamburger or hot dog joints. In the end, it all feels iconic. Oh, and the preponderance of healthy-looking beauties and handsomes just waiting to be discovered. Nice weather, the sunsets, the tacos. I’d like to add-in the well-timed traffic lights and the left turn lanes.

Sunset Blvd

The stars of my LA production this trip were:

>Of course, Elise

EliseShe is about to complete her first year in Los Angeles. The teen website, Cambio, for whom she has been working as a videographer and video editor on a free-lance basis, recently hired her as a full-time employee. Besides her brief reverie while walking along Hollywood Boulevard recalling what she loves about New York…and besides cherishing the infrequent rainy days, Elise makes quite a natural Angelino. She is doing great work, getting to video and edit many fun, happening events (she recently shot Jon Hamm and the Mad Men cast!!)…and she can sunbathe at will. I got to see Elise’s office and meet the group that runs Cambio:

Cambio (2)

ArmagadoThis is Elise’s thriving avocado plant. She read that people could survive on avocados, given some giant worldwide catastrophe, so planted the pit. The plant is named ‘Armagado.’

      Here we are on the town with flaming margaritas:

flamin margs

>Fluffernutter

FlufferElise’s new kitten, who was embarking on cathood when I arrived, took on quite a big role in my visit. ‘Fluffer,’ as we call her, is adorable. She is named for Elise’s favorite marshmallow junk food. I became the opposite of a cat person back when Jake developed allergies to our cats and I tried to rid the house of all traces of cat dander while keeping the cats outdoors. But Fluffer melted my hardened heart. I can’t think of anything more endearing than reading at my laptop all morning in LA with the little darling on my lap. I adore her.

 

 

 

>Kermit the Frog

Kermie“The Muppet Movie” had come and gone already, with Elise an avid fan. Fortunately, we found a movie theater in Pasadena that shows recent films, so I was able to see my Kermie on the big screen! He is still the sweet peacemaker he always was. I drove past the actual Jim Henson studios often because they are on the way to Elise’s office, so when they appear as an old, worn-out set in the film, along with the El Capitan Theater on Hollywood Boulevard, one feels that LA is the place to see this film. And while Kermit steals one’s heart over and over as only Kermie can, the hardest I have laughed in a movie theater in a very long time was during the musical number by the muppet, Walter: “Am I a Man or Am I a Muppet?” (which won the Oscar for best song). Then when Kermit sings the hauntingly lovely “Rainbow Connection,” I had to hold Elise’s hand as I misted up remembering so many bedtime renditions. This film, lovingly made by and co-starring Jason Segel, honors well Jim Henson’s graceful gifts to all of us.

 

 

 

>Claire Greene

Claire and Elise go back to elementary school days at the Blue Rock School. They were partners in crime from the beginning, continuing to grow their notorious partnership during their Waldorf middle school years. In high school Elise went to visit Claire at her Vermont boarding school, surreptitiously carrying what turned out to be bad mushrooms purchased on the streets of Nyack, NY. A cautionary tale, indeed. The school tribunal thankfully did NOT expel Claire. The two followed trails into the future that occasionally intersect, and a certain twinkle in their eyes reveals what has endured over the years. Even though I have been able to see Claire’s parents in NY on occasion, she has been away traveling every time I landed there in recent years, so I had not seen her for a long time when she joined us at Elise’s apartment for dinner. She managed this supporting role in my trip by way of a temporary assignment in Los Angeles with her father’s painting studio, known for restorations all over the world. Claire

If I could, I would attach the quintessential photo of Elise and Claire. It predates digital and is in storage in New York: Elise is playing Alice in Wonderland in the elementary school drama and Claire is the also-curious, hookah-smoking caterpillar perched on a giant mushroom. So I’ll attach this one instead, which reveals their special beauty:

 

 

 

 

>Joe and Kevin Jonas of ‘the Jonas Brothers

Screen shot 2012-04-05 at 3.12.27 PM

OK – actual stars! I was chauffeuring Elise and her producer-co-worker to a red carpet shoot at the ‘Rock the Vote’ event in LA. This way I could have the car in the meantime to shop. When I returned to pick them up, the event was not yet underway, so I was directed to a VIP parking space (!!) and just hung around there watching all the beautiful people arriving and hobnobbing. Once the Jonas two arrived, I got to be a ‘fly on the wall,’ so to speak, observing Elise at work during their interview. I know I’m a bit older than the usual Jonas demographic, even if it is edging upwards as the brothers mature, but I thought Joe and Kevin were really cute in person! Easy to see what all the commotion has been about.

 

>Marty and Elayne at the Dresden

dresden2And speaking of iconic…these old pros – and I do mean old - have been performing at this club for 18 years. Who knows how long they were performing before that, because as reconstituted and stitched together as they are, they can belt out just about any song known to man while accompanying themselves on several instruments. They make this look as easy as breathing…or, perhaps in their case, it is easier than breathing! The club has a posh clientele of varied ages, some of whom take a turn at the mike and make the amazing Marty and Elayne look even more professional. Keep the day job, folks.

 

 

>Cleopatra

cleoopatraI don’t mean Elizabeth Taylor, I mean the fascinating biography by Stacy Schiff. My ever-ongoing tome at home, Infinite Jest, is over 1,000 pages and does not lend itself easily to travel; therefore, the astute and charismatic Cleopatra was my traveling companion. Wow; what a read. Roman history reduced her to a whore, but she was one extremely well-educated and intelligent woman. And NOT Egyptian!

 

EXIT

With my LA production in the can, I flew back to São Paulo en route home. The third world greeted me in an overdramatic way: my connection was on the Columbian airlines, Avianca. We were bussed to a new space that must represent airport expansion for the 2014 Soccer World Cup, except that it had no internet connection available and the rain from the black skies over SP began hitting me in my seat from a leaking roof. All the Avianca flights were delayed, so once I leapt out of that seat, there were no more available. After two hours, we were quite suddenly rounded up to board another bus to the plane. The flight had been listed on the displays as “Natal-Recife.” Imagine my surprise when we landed in Recife.

I did arrive eventually in Natal. I had the remainder of that night plus the following night without Newton, who was flying in from Japan. The caretaker, Marcos, left in the car he shares with relatives that afternoon. I didn’t think twice about it, as I figured he’d never leave me alone here overnight. It got later and later and I saw that the car had not returned. When I wanted to go up to bed, I decided to go knock on Marcos’ door in case he returned by bus. No answer, so I went up for the night with misgivings of being an orphan absolutely alone here, and wondering what the hell Marcos was thinking.

Imagine my surprise the next morning when all the cushions had been put back on the veranda sofa. I went around back to the caretaker cottage, and there was Marcos. When I asked him if he had heard me knock, he said yes – that he had gotten very nervous but had (eventually) stepped out to look along each side of the house. Actually he told me this over and over many times, as is his wont. So, Marcos is a bigger scaredy cat then me; I don’t know why I would have felt much safer knowing he was actually here!

Newton returned and Carnaval arrived soon after!

Love,

Sandy

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