The Girl from Ipanema
How my fear of losing my kidney stopped me from chasing La Garota de Ipanema….
Rio de Janiero, Brazil is one of my favourite holiday destinations. Getting there is easy. I only need a valid passport and a yellow fever shot. No visa application blues. Yes, Filipinos can enter this former Portuguese colony for 90 days without a visa. World renowned beaches of Copa Cabana, Leblon and Ipanema are all there waiting to be discovered. Heard about topless beautiful Brazilian women in their string bikinis? God bless Brazil!
Last February, I invented a special reason to convince myself why should I go back to Rio for the third time. I reasoned out that my birthday falls on a Carnival week. A bombastic carnival would surely shake-off my another-year-older birthday blues away.
Ipanema and Leblon are my favourite beaches in Rio. I don’t like Copa Cabana. It’s too crowded. In Leblon and Ipanema, quality Brazilians and foreigners converge as if they are in a Mecca.
When in Rio, I was told to act like one of the Cariocas, their natives. I should not bring so much cash in the beach. If I can’t guard my camera, mobile phone and Ipod, I should not take them with me because los ratones de la playa (beach rats) from the nearby Fabella (poor getthos), just await to steal my valuables the moment I don’t pay much attention on these stuff.
I chose to go to Ipanema on my first day. After all, it is only a few minute walk from my hotel in Calle Arpoador. Ipanema was full that time, obviously because of the carnival season. Beside Ipanema is Leblon. Both beaches were blest with nature’s bounty: breasts and butts in all shapes, colours, and sizes. I love Brazil! I prayed that God would spare these beaches and women from natural calamities. Good Lord, keep them safe forever. Amen!
Sun bathing time. I rented an umbrella and a folding-chair for RHS 16 or roughly equivalent to USD 9. The next good thing being in the beach aside from sun bathing and eye-ball rolling is drinking Caipirinha. It is a Brazilian national drink made from cachaça and other flavours like lemon or passion fruit. Rum or vodka could also be used as substitutes.
Three rounds of Caipirinha under the scorching heat of the sun were enough to make me dizzy. The scent of marijuana in the air made me dizzier. Sexy bodies littered everywhere seemed to be the last thing to blow my mind at any moment. Then my thoughts were interrupted by a henna boy who offered to draw a scorpion on my right arm. I agreed for RHS 60.
Henna session was over. “One more Caipirinha please.” I ordered.
While in the middle of sipping my fourth drink, came a gay couple with a young Brazilian mestiza. They spread their beach towels near me and shortly afterwards, they occasionally did torrid kissing bouts. And the young lady…whoaaaa! She was applying sunscreen lotion all over her sexy body right beside me.
I started my usual pick-up line in South America with this girl and said… “¿Habla Ingles?” She said no. “¿Habla español?” She replied, “No, solo Portuges.” Hijo de la Madre! Another communication barrier to hurdle. I don’t speak Portuguese!
She patted the back of the other lady, and signalled her that she needed an interpreter. The lady speaks Portungol, half Spanish half Portuguese. Strange. So we tried hard to understand each other. The lady was her mom and the other lady was her mom’s partner.
A few more brain-wrecking Portungol conversation and then la mama asked me to go with them near the Sambadrome where we can enjoy Brazilian music and dance in the street. Her daughter looked and smiled sweetly as if telling me, “Come on, let’s go and do the samba.”
With strangers, I always trust my instincts. I said, “Good Lord who created these hot Brazilians, please give me a sign. Should I stay on the beach or go?” I looked at them once more, the young girl smiled again. So I said to myself, GO! I paid the bill but when I stood up, I panicked. I lost my red Havaianas España slippers. I was totally pissed off. Yes, I was in a Havaianas country but that pair of slippers was special to me. I bought it in Manila. It has travelled with me in continents of Europe, North and South America for two years.
So I walked with them barefoot. I was trailing them. The couple were talking in Portuguese and occasionally gave one another a smack. Then the other lady talked to somebody on the phone. I took the chance of asking the mother while her partner was on the line if where were we going. She said we would take the car because Sambadrome is 30 minutes away from the beach.
I didn’t like the way my heart beat. I was a bit scared. Wild thoughts entered my mind. Thanks but no thanks caipirinha. Then we were in a basement parking. The mother excused herself and went to the rest room. The lover followed.
All of a sudden, scenes from the movie Turistas flashed in my mind. It’s a movie about the tourists who were lost in the jungle of Brazil after a bus accident, trapped, and became victims of a kidney for sale syndicate ring. I felt fear. When the couple returned, I told them that I am not going anymore. I said my feet were aching and I needed to buy a pair of slippers and go back to my hotel to catch some sleep.
I told them, if I can wake up before 8 in the evening, I would meet them up at the Sambadrome. After all, the parade would start at 9 p.m. It was only past 4 p.m. I asked for their contact number and told them that I would call them should I decide to go out later that night. And we parted ways at the basement parking.
I felt a sense of disgust in them. But I followed my instincts. I chose to just enjoy the rest of the day alone. I feared of losing my kidney or getting robbed. It was enough that I lost my favourite España slippers on my birthday. That was my sign. Foolish interpretation? Was I being paranoid because of too much Marijuana in the air at the beach? Too much Caipirinha perhaps? I don’t know, but better safe than sorry.
