Brazil Dispatch 26

September 17, 2009

I guess taking down our mosquito net after six months and finally power-washing the rain-darkened stones out front harkens the sense of a new phase. Ordinarily, the rainy season ends in July and the subsequent windy season chases away whatever mosquitoes may be lagging behind. This year, we’ve come to mid-September without more than 3 consecutive days rain-free, which is not to say there haven’t been some glorious golden days and starry nights mixed in (with bug-slapping outdoor dinners). We were more than ready to forgo the stooping and ducking maneuver needed to get in and out of bed under the mosquito net – lovely as it is – and we longed for a TV screen minus the scrim, so down came the net last night. I was able to stuff the entire 30 square meters into the washing machine!

And speaking of laundry…I cannot slough off my ‘American washing machine’ oblivion, where one pitches in soap, clothes, pushes a button and goes away. I have a lot of trouble getting a load of laundry done in a timely manner with my simple model Brazilian machine. First, the instructions say to start running the water and, once there is enough to dissolve the soap, return to add that. Then as the water continues to fill, return to put the clothes in. Now the instructions say to turn off the machine and let the clothes soak for an hour. Then you return to push ON to finish the cycle, which takes almost another hour.

Just imagine how hard it is to stay on top of this laundry schedule if one is forgetful or otherwise engaged, especially in another room out of earshot of the machine. So I have many variations on running a load of laundry, from having the agitation start with the machine filled with water and soap, but no clothes...to having the clothes soak for 4 hours instead of one...to the most recent topper: having the machine run almost an entire cycle without soap or clothes! The water had drained out from the first rinse, so I tried unplugging the machine in hopes that the cycle would begin again. Turns out after the water started filling and I added the soap and clothes, then it just rinsed them and spun them! I had planned to check and have them soak at least, but was long gone into some reverie or other when that would have been possible. It is so embarrassing when the maid is around to witness! I've told her that I would like to do the laundry. Looks like I need a Zen cushion beside my washing machine. This timing problem does not diminish my love of the laundry ritual, above all hanging the clothes on the line and admiring, time and again, the invention of the clothespin.

Marcos, the caretaker, started cleaning the stones around the outside of the house with a rented power-washer at 6:30am. We asked him to stop when we were trying to eat lunch on the veranda at 1:45 amidst the unbearable roar. We convinced him to go eat (something he does like clockwork at 11:30 every day). He would not rest in his hammock after lunch as usual because he knew he’d never get up again, so back he went at the stones. I told him he sure has a lot of patience and he replied, “Tenho”…”I do have.” Marcos – wiry and strong and enduring as he is – looked tired. We are painting up/fixing up in time for the arrival of my best friend from my whole life, Lenna, with her husband, Jon, to celebrate our 60th birthdays! After a week in Natal, the four of us are going to Salvador, Bahia.

And we just had a great visit from another longtime friend, Maria Candida. I met her on my second trip to Rio in 1982. She is a bona fide, sophisticated, urbane, brilliant, fascinating Carioca! Her English is excellent, and we discovered we were reading two of the same authors; we had also both seen the same museum exhibit in New York recently! Maria Candida is a truly talented photographer, as well, as you can see in these photos:

Here are a couple of gorgeous photos from some of her world travels, to Indochina and India:

We all enjoyed Rossana and Cassio’s boat ride with full moon and great live music. Then plenty of beach hiking to the falesias (cliffs of sand) and a trip to Tibau do Sul Beach south of here, complete with whole grilled fish.

We also tried the paella at a restaurant owned by a Spanish chef we had met:

Newton and I have returned to our groove after our US visit. One day we saw three dolphins traversing Cotovelo Beach in repeating arcs! Amazing. This is rare, though not unheard of on Cotovelo. They are ordinarily glimpsed further south. We took up the habit of cooking spicy chicken wings and eating them on the beach with beer, although the windy season causes sand to blow on the food in one’s hand, so this part of the routine is on hold till summer. We found out that the crescent moon looks like the smile on the Cheshire Cat here because near the equator the crescent opens upwards, rather than opening to either side. I am also reminded of Eugene Field’s “Wynken, Blynken and Nod” because this crescent moon looks like a boat sailing in the sky. When at last we turn out the downstairs lights and go upstairs every night, I heave a sigh of pleasure upon entering our bedroom with the window and doors thrown open to the sea and the breeze, sometimes with this crescent moon out the window, or maybe the bright indigo glow the full moon casts on the ocean, or sometimes there is Saturn – so big in the sky – and sometimes, later, framed by the window from the bed, is Jupiter – just HUGE in the sky. And the ocean sound. I still love our house! Even though Newton consults the clock habitually – well, he’s still working, after all…I really can forget about what hour it is and feel the rhythm of rotating bird sounds from the migrating parade, of the changing hues and shadows from morning to evening or with changing weather, local errands, a book in the hammock, Newton’s shrimp on Saturday and Sunday after the beach, the buzzing of insects every evening, heading out to the veranda for our meals across from the coconut trees, watching a downloaded episode of The Wire. I’m leaving out the annoying stuff, but I really love this life.

On our US trip I picked up Obama’s two books. Dreams of My Father is extraordinary for both its beautiful writing and its universal theme of identity, regardless of how well or how little we understand our roots. He is a keen observer and master of subtlety. The Audacity of Hope is more like a well-written government primer. My new Alice Munro short story collections have already been consumed, so now I will look forward to my next two from the US in December. I’ve started Volume II of Robert Caro’s LBJ biography. The opening is astounding. To be reminded of the courage that was required of African Americans to stand up for civil rights is humbling. And we get daily reminders 50 years later of how ugly bigotry and demagoguery are.

My Mother just moved from her larger room to a smaller one at the Methodist Manor in Tulsa, as she outlives her funds. My two oldest sisters, brother-in-law and nephew made the move as organized and painless as possible, not to mention their wonderful job preserving her remaining chicken collection. The chicken wire was my brother-in-law’s idea and draws many sightseers! We will visit her in her new space in December.

Not to be outdone, Jake moved from Boston to Las Vegas. He bought a Toyota convertible the first day there. He has now had a cash offer accepted on a house, so if all goes well, he will be a homeowner a few days before turning 23! We will all meet in Las Vegas for Christmas – now there’s an odd image. I’m thinking poker chip ornaments, though I haven’t mastered the engineering yet.

Elise was invited to join the Jonas Brothers’ tour for its last eight days - Nashville, Columbus, Cleveland, Montreal, Toronto and Ottawa. She had a berth in one of 14 busses with the horn section - 4 guys – and the string section – 2 females. Then after all night on the bus, she was provided with beautiful hotel rooms to shower, sleep some more, and prepare for the next show. She was assigned to video one of their opening acts, the Wonder Girls, from Korea. It was a thrilling ‘roadie’ experience! The Jonas organization has requested her again to video the show of another opening act group in Manhattan. In the meantime, she is still the official videographer and editor for the Jonas fan club website, among other assignments.

As you might well imagine, it is time for me to go turn the washing machine back on!

Hope the return of the fall routine is sitting well with all of you –

Love,

Sandy

San Francisco Dispatch

My friend since age 12, Bob Dow, lives near San Francisco. He actually has two houses, now that he's married to Jo Beth. He offered the uninhabited one in Redwood City to us for our convenience, so we ended up there two nights (with fresh blackberries and peaches from down the road and apricots from his garden for breakfast!). He also invited us to a barbeque at the elegant house in Monte Sereno he shares with the stunning and brilliant Jo Beth (CEO of a tech company), daughter and comedian Monica, and young-Latino-loving mother-in-law Ethel (who has a picture of Che Guevara on her wall!). Well, Bob actually has three houses with the one in Maui. He is a retired very smart guy and a serious windsurfer.

Now we were off to San Francisco. Elise and Jake pitched in financially to upgrade from the small, inexpensive hotel we had booked to accommodate their wishes for a swimming pool (Elise) and a bed of one's own (Jake). We ended up at the Hilton near Union Square, convenient for Newton's trade show at the Moscone Center, convenient for becoming bona fide tourists of the city, well-appointed, but not one of the famous, charming old deco hotels that are typical of San Francisco, and too fancy to offer free internet in the rooms. I did appreciate the spaciousness and the dip Elise, Newton and I took in the hot tub in the cool fog of one early evening.

While Newton tended to his professional duties, I convinced Elise to become one of those tourists riding around on top of an open bus whom she usually disparages as she walks down the street in Manhattan. She and Jake and I hopped on and off around the city, enjoying the sights and the anecdotes thrown in with the info from the guides, appreciating the different styles of commentating that each subsequent bus offered. The million stories in the naked city, in the end, are an arbitrary pursuit. Elise brought her inevitable enthusiasm and her camera, after all.

We hopped off at Chinatown for brief, predictable sun glasses and souvenir shopping. Then we hopped off and walked several blocks to visit the beatnik-renowned City Lights book store. When Elise waitressed during college for Havana Central in Manhattan, the restaurant took over the east coast hangout of the famed Ferlinghetti, Ginsberg, Kerouac and Cassady crowd: the West End bar by Columbia University. Some still object to its transformation into a Cuban restaurant.

We ended up near the Moscone Center on the only day that Newton's trade show (DAC - Design Automation Conference) allowed visitors such as us. There were tickets to pick up for a big party a company called Denali offers annually one evening of this show, plus Elise was excited to check out the giveaways such as Newton has brought home from industry booths over the years. Alas, the financial crisis rendered the 2009 DAC a mere shadow of its former self. The giveaways were reduced primarily to a selection of ball-point pens. We were grateful for the Heineken draft offered by one of the largest exhibitors there. Afterwards we had a Mexican dinner with the team from Newton's company - CAST - that was delicious and rowdy in a raucous little place.

I finally indulged my endless craving for Indian food by having a lunch feast with Elise and Jake at a nice Indian restaurant. Not only is this not a favorite of Newton's, there are no Indian restaurants in Natal. Elise and I hit the Haight for an afternoon...the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood which hosted the hippies' '67 Summer of Love gathering. It seems a must for the complete tourist! Good shopping. Figuring out and catching a public bus there felt ever so authentic.

The Denali DAC party was in a ballroom with open bar, hors d'oeuvres, and pretty decent live music by amateur groups within the computer-aided engineering industry. It was fun in a 90% male, 75% nerd sort of way!

Elise, Jake and I spent our last day at Fisherman's Wharf...de rigueur tourist fare. We took a boat trip in the bay under the Golden Gate, encircling Alcatraz. We had crab cakes and clam chowder in a sourdough bread 'bowl' for lunch. But the highlights were the dozens of lolling, drowsing, and wrestling sea lions by the pier - something one could watch for hours - and the mesmerizing jellyfish display in the Aquarium – gossamer white ones in moon-like light and huge yellow ones looking like surreal live flowers. These will remain a vision in my memory forever (or until next week, depending on the state of my memory). Watch:

We caught a streetcar back to the hotel.

We had celebrated Newton's April birthday together with a sushi dinner in Napa the week before; our last night in San Fran was a birthday dinner for Elise (August), Jake (October) and me (September) at an Italian restaurant. As you can imagine, when one lives so far away from one's children, there is much to cram into these visits!

We had some serious packing to do before parting. We had covered most everything on our Ikea, Trader Joes and Target lists; we were schlepping back an old projector from CAST to watch movies on the living room wall; we had bought my new laptop, Zone bars, shorts, dish towels, knives, a bowl, a can-opener, olive oil spray, scissors, underwear, a desk lamp, queen-size sheets, 11 books shipped to our Napa hotel from Amazon, etc., plus all those small, mysterious techy items with cords that Newton buys to plug into things. There was just one list that we had neglected: our ordinary grocery store list. Elise reminded me that the Walgreen's drug store near the hotel carried some grocery items, so I ran there literally 15 minutes before the car service was picking us up to go to the airport. We needed sponges, (I know, but they don't have the right kind in Brazil), taco seasoning envelopes, Splenda sweetener, Guilden's mustard and garlic salt. Walgreens only had a box of 200 Splenda packets and a bag with 30 sponges. I was fortunately able to open my suitcase on the sidewalk and line up 30 weightless (though slightly damp) sponges inside. The 200 Splenda packets fit in the outside zipper pocket. Everything somehow made it through the baggage and carry-on gauntlet all the way to Natal. That doesn't mean that the new laptop Newton was carrying went undetected at Customs in São Paulo. He had the receipt ready to prove he had not spent more than $500. The old projector spoke for itself. I didn't have to explain the sponges to anyone!

Love,
Sandy

Napa Valley Dispatch

August 14, 2009

Armed with nothing but thirst and hunger, Elise, Jake, Newton and I headed for Domaine Chandon in Napa Valley wine country. In case you doubt that champagne goes well with nicoise salad or french bread and brie, take heart! And the weather seemed particularly good for french bread.

Then we hit the lovely Silverado winery. Next day was Black Stallion, and afterwards, a picnic from Whole Foods at the sleek and chic William Hill Winery.

Our hotel was in nearby Vallejo, so after a couple of vineyards a day, we could head home from the bucolic expanse of rolling hills lined with grapes for a nap by the pool. Those little pours seem to add up!

Newton and Jake went to investigate a little Texas Hold'em 'casino' that looked like a VFW hall. Turns out, it was full of Texas Hold'em geezer die-hards. Jake brought back $500+, and Newton, $185!

On our last day we had an appointment at Schramsberg Champagne. With exactly 20 minutes to spare before our appointment, we decided to go for three tastings that day. We blew into the BV Winery, split three tastings of three wines amongst the four of us, and arrived just in time for the best yet: Schramsberg. This was an old 19th century Napa winery that fell into the hands of a couple in 1969 who decided to produce champagne as close to the original French method as possible. Starting with Nixon, this became the champagne served at the White House.

This tradition continues with their first Obama order last spring. We had a great tour of the cavernous corridors lined with bottles. Occasionally there is a plugged spot where the tremendous pressure inside a bottle erupted. They have had a couple of revered Mexican-American employees, called "riddlers," for 35 years, who can alter the tilt and turn a rack of 60 bottles 1/8th of a turn in 9 seconds! This is to collect the sediment inside. The sediment is later frozen at the top of the upside-down bottle, then blasts itself out when the bottle is opened, after which the champagne cork is applied. This wonderful frog statue, called 'Riddlers' Night Out' was erected in honor of these employees, who often, while officially enjoying the fruits of their labor, will lift a glass of champagne to the light to check that there is no remaining sediment! The tasting at Schramsberg is a little pricier than some, but one does get to sample their top champagne, J Schram Reserve, which is not easily found in stores, along with four others. We bought a bottle of their more accessible Blanc de Blanc. Such a wonderful visit.

We decided to stop at Mumm Champagne on our way back and have our farewell tasting on a lovely afternoon.

Later in our hotel that evening in our jammies, we enjoyed the Schramsberg bottle. Here's to you! Watch:

Next morning we headed to San Francisco by way of the Golden Gate bridge, stopping briefly en route at the Marin Headlands and Sausalito to look across the bay.

Thanks to Newton's industry trade show in town, Elise, Jake and I would have 4 full days to get to know a new city!

Love,

Sandy