Brazilian Christmas

[Martin Hash]

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After traveling all over the world, I have been disgusted to find that most First World countries are full of pussies. I used to think that Americans were getting soft with our over-emphasis on “safety,” and the general physical decline of the population, but compared to Europe, Japan, and South America – Americans are daredevils. Brazil is a case in point: contrary to the impression Americans may have, Brazil is definitely a First World Nation: 5th in size, 5th in population, 8th in economy. If you just saw a picture of a community in Brazil, you could easily mistake it for somewhere in the U.S. The people too are almost exactly the same, except they speak Portuguese… And they’re weenies.

My wife, Gwynne, and I were in Brazil for Christmas, in a tourist community called Bonito (which means “beautiful,” and it is). No one spoke English, which is okay, I don’t expect guides at Yellowstone to speak Spanish (!!!) Anyway, after expressing our reservations about going on a tour that speaks no English, the guy at the hostel insisted we would enjoy it – that the beautiful scenery would be enough. Hell, it was Christmas, it sounded exotic and memorable, just what a Christmas deserves, so against our better judgment…

Now, I mention “our reservations” because we had been on several tours in Brazil without English being spoken, and only because we could keep to ourselves and do what we wanted did the event work out. Not so this time.

Because it was Christmas, Gwynne and I were wearing Santa hats, which kept the water off our heads as we hiked an hour in the rain while the guide stopped repeatedly to explain something or other in Portuguese to the rest of our group. Destination: “Blue Lake Cave.” It was very touristy: a gift store, restaurant, clean fully-functional bathrooms, and beer. I figured having a beer (or two) would make everything better so I asked Gwynne to buy me one while she was getting an ice cream. She came back with the ice cream but no beer…

Apparently, tourists are not allowed to drink beer in the 10 minutes before entering the cave – for “safety” reasons!? We tried to explain that we didn’t want a guide but we had to have one for “safety” reasons!? And we had to wear hair nets! And helmets! I needed an extra large helmet because I refused to take off my Santa hat. What followed was the most excruciatingly boring few hours of my life. The local people in our party were such dolts: they were afraid to walk down steps – not just some of them – all of them! I mean all the people and all the steps, and the place reeked of sweat. This wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed such insane cowardliness in Brazil but it was the first time I’d gotten fully caught up in the bureaucracy. And the guide kept stopping for half-hour sermons in Portuguese about god-knows-what. (Why not just send us with a guide who kept their mouth shut – there were plenty there?) I walked down in less than a minute.

THEN, for “safety” reasons, we couldn’t even get near the water. And to make things worse, the female guide threw an absolute fit when I took off my helmet so Gwynne could take a picture of me in my Santa hat. I mean, and absolute screaming fit. I tried to walk out of the damn place but the lady wouldn’t let me and Gwynne was so cowed by the bullying, she wouldn’t go.

And to top it all off, the Blue Lake Cavern would take maybe 5 minutes to see in the States.

Merry Christmas Brazil.