Manaus, felt a bit slower for me (in contrast to Roseau) in the sense that I didn't have to pack so much activity into just two days. It's not like I was going on any huge trips to the heart of the Amazon Rainforest or to Rio de Janeiro, as many of the other SASers did, so I had four days of frolicking within the vicinity. Manaus was not, by any means, a São Paolo in the sense that it was not a massive global city with millions upon millions of people, but it was also not smack-dab in the wilderness with sloths crawling on your shoulders and piranhas biting your toes if you stepped into the water. However, it was a little of both, yet neither of them at the same time, with an incredibly remarkable history of conquest, exploitation, and restoration. This city at the meeting of the waters of the Rio Amazonas and the Rio Negro is both a natural wonder and an urban metropolis.
From exploring the some of the exquisite architecture brought to the city by the European rubber barons of yesteryear to trekking through the nature and animal reserve at INPA, there were lots of contrasts to be found in the city. There was a huge native Indian presence, but there were always constant reminders of outsider influences. It was not uncommon to see pirarucú, manioc, and açaí next to pizza, burgers, and Coca-Cola in the restaurants. Lining the streets full of exquisitely designed buildings pre-fabricated in places like France and England were stalls selling Amazonian fruits with colors, flavors, and textures you won't find anywhere else. And of course, there was the diversity of the people all speaking Portuguese which ended up being a very fun language barrier. You can't imagine how far a smile, a thumbs-up, and a thank you can go until you do that same routine with everyone you encounter. A rough understanding of Spanish and getting used to pronunciation from singing a lot of capoeira songs definitely helped.
By far, though, the best thing that happened during this visit to Manaus was running into Frankie James and Diego at the Museu Casa de Eduardo Ribeiro. Upon searching for food downtown after an amazing morning exploring INPA, Maria, Tommie, and I walked past a gorgeous house. We almost ignored it and kept going, but I was especially drawn to the beauty of the building. So we walked through the gate and were greeted by two young men, the tour guides. Walking through that gate ended up being the best decision we made the whole trip.
The two guys, who were roughly our age, were paid by the government to give free tours of the house of one of the most influential governors of the Amazonas state. The house underwent a decade-long restoration that was completed two years ago, and many of the original parts of the house were salvaged. Now a museum, the house is open for visitors completely free of charge, and as of two weeks ago, if you were to visit any time between 1 and 5 PM, you'd be getting bilingual tours from Frankie James and Diego.
After the very informative tour of the beautiful home, Tommie, a very friendly girl (yes, girl) with an extremely outgoing personality, asked FJ if he wanted to hang out later that night. He happily agreed and brought Diego along for the ride. We met them after work in our best clothing because we were going to a free orchestra concert at the Teatro Amazonas, the city's most famous landmark that is a clear reminder of the rubber boom days. It is a prime example of the contrasts found in Manaus; the quintessentially high-class European cultural institution of opera was inserted into the middle of a far-removed enclave in the largest rainforest in the world.
Frankie James took us on a bus ride to his humble home half an hour away telling us about how nobody believed that he befriended a group of Americans. We learned that he is a student hoping to become an English teacher, and was already teaching informal classes in the morning. He was incredibly ecstatic to be practicing his skills with us. As he took us further and further away from the city center, the neighborhoods got increasingly more frightening. It wasn't exactly a place where many foreigners would typically venture. Finally, when he was bringing us down the alleyway to his home, he started talking about how his boss told him that we would think that he was a killer.
Now, this is not something you really want to say to a whole bunch of young Americans far away from home. But I had faith that he wasn't actually trying to hack us with machetes. Instead, he opened us up to his home and his family, one of the kindest gestures anybody around the world could do. It's peculiar to think that a complete stranger put his life on display for a bunch of tourists he met a few hours earlier, and it is equally as peculiar to have been the tourists viewing it.
The peek into his home was interesting, to say the least. He considered himself middle-class, though his house would be considered meager at best by American standards. A rooster was at the bottom of the steps. Yet there was an uncanny beauty in the simplicity of the home. We met his mother and his sister, and what I assume may have been his nephews, but meeting his grandmother definitely took the cake. She took time out of praying in front of the television to tell us that we were welcome. She was visibly in awe that her grandson just brought a group of Americans into her home. Tommie, always prepared, took out her Polaroid camera and gave the photo to Frankie's grandmother as a memento who said that she will remember us for a long time. That one line was the most memorable moment of my time in Manaus.
Eventually, we made it back downtown to go to the free concert at the theatre and eat traditional tacacá at the plaza outside of it. The theatre is a glorious structure, both inside and out, and sitting in a booth in the center of the balcony may have been the second-most memorable experience in the city. Possibly the best part of being there was dragging along Frankie and Diego who both had never been to a concert there. It just comes to show the accessibility of different resources and the cultural divide between the elite and the laymen that the theatre has represented ever since its construction over a century ago.
Ultimately, the boys also agreed to accompany us the next morning as we navigated the city, and they continued to share stories and show us their hometown. I'm sure it was a view into Manaus that not many SASers, or visitors in general, have ever gotten.
My time in Manaus has made me realize the importance of human connections. The relationship formed amongst a group of young people sharing this world, yet not knowing of the other's existence until now, is inspiring. It just comes to show the increasing rate at which we are becoming a globalized, interconnected world. Our social networks are widening as the space between us diminishes. Though we may never see each other again (though it would be absolutely amazing if we did), I can't even imagine how much we have changed each other's lives. This trade of knowledge and this shared experience will provide us long-lasting memories. And what kills me the most is the fact that we kinda just stumbled into this whole situation, and it ended up being one of the most rewarding things I've ever done.
In the end, we promised to be friends on Facebook and to continue our dialogues. We all vowed to be just as hospitable to them in the United States if they ever get the chance to visit us. Regardless of what happens from here, I am so humbled by the fact that we were so lucky to share in this beautiful experience.
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