And, I will get to the actual Falls part of the story - but take it from me, they were spectacular and truly beyond description.
Had really cute film clip here... but lost it. Watch this space as I will have to totally reload it. Grrrrrr *Shakes fist at Blog set up*
Well, there I was in Brazil (Brasil) quite unexpectedly as I thought we would be staying on the Argentina side of Iguazu Falls, but, it appeared not. So I have another few stamps in my passport and can say that I have been to Argentina four times. (Crossing to and fro for touristy things).
How do you know when you are truly having an intercultural experience? When you are a New Zealander speaking French with a tango singer from Paris on an Argentinian bus tour at a bird park in Portuguese-languaged Brasil.
Some observations on and from a hotel room in Brasil:
- I was not staying in a 3 or above star hotel
- I stretched out in bed and put my recently pedicured toenail through the bottom of the sheet.... I think this was a bit of an indicator that the hotel was ready for a bit of refurbishing.
- I turned on the hot tap over the basin...and cold water dribbled out from under the base of the cold tap. Tested this phenomenon twice.
- The corridor lights worked by motion-sensor (which required leaping or arm-flapping to set them off) and the rooms had energy saving cards that needed to go in a slot to activate the power, in the interests of conservation - but all the taps leaked.
- There was no information booklet or any usual hotel paraphernalia, but at least there was a Gideon´s Bible (Cue Beatles song from White Album .... ¨Rocky Raccoon, checked into his room, only to find Gideon´s Bible ¨ family in-joke, apologies to all others who find that incomprehensible.)
- I looked out the window at 6am Sunday morning, heard glass or a bottle smash, and saw a man attack and chase another one - apparently quite randomly up the street. There were a few other people around, they just carried on about their business.
- I saw, on the main street outside the hotel, a horse-drawn cart stacked unbelievably and incredibly high with.... I´m not sure what -scrap/junk/recycling, but it looked very much like one of those email jokes of unusual transport and vehicles from third-world countries. It was definitely a case of an overloaded vehicle and yet it was certainly a masterpiece of skilful stacking and packing! You had to respect the craftsmanship that went into getting it all on the cart and keeping it there.
- Every single drop of drinking water in the hotel had to be paid for. Not a complementary jug of water at any place or time to be seen. However, there was a piping hot pump thermos of complimentary sweeeeet black coffee and disposable cups outside the lift.
- I had a few interesting conversations with staff there. (Viv, think back to a taxi driver in Adelaide in 2001.) I brought a young male staff member up to my door, saying, “ My door won’t open!” in my best Spanish which consisted of three words relevant to the situation… which was reasonably ineffective as the man spoke Portuguese. He, of course, opened the door right away, by turning the key four times round in the lock… I’d given up after three. The door handle itself spun round with little participation in the whole door opening process. “Well, while you’re here then,” I added pleasantly with gestures, “Can you fix the tv, please, and….where are the emergency exits, or signs?” (Nothing had happened when I turned the tv on and then about five minutes later it burst into white and black dots then up came a sign and said it would shut down in 48 seconds. I was hoping that the word still meant ‘shut’ in Portuguese and not ‘self destruct’). The bloke found a ripped out channel cable, shoved it somewhere relevant and Brazilian tv burst forth. The emergency exit steps were reasonably close but unmarked.
- I had a very interesting conversation (with many gestures and much intonation) with the most terse of receptionists…and I think it went beyond language difficulties, although I became a little terse myself by the end of interaction. By the end of my stay I felt quite sorry for her as I think many of the issues she had to deal with were outside her control…
Me: “Computadora?,” and pointed in the area of the computers. (Hotel boasted conference and computer facilities so I felt it was not an unreasonable request.)
Her: “No.”
After a few repeats and requests for clarification:
Me: Is that internet? (pointing gesture, one hand at computer the other circling and then heavenwards, "internet¨ said in an accent of unknown nationality )
Her: Yes
Me: Can I use it? (further gestures which, from a distance, could have looked as if I was giving a disco dance demonstration)
Her: No;
Me: Why? (you can make up your own mental pictures from this point onwards)
Her: No computer
Me: But there is a computer there
Her: No computer.
Me: (In a very Fawlty Towers moment) I can see that it is working so it is clearly not out of order…. Aaaah, I see… it is booked?…. Can I use it until someone comes? It has been available for some time.
Her: No;
Me: Is there anyone here who speaks English?
Her: No
Me: So, what you are saying is, I cannot, under any circumstances use the computer,
Her: No
Me: (Somewhat pathetically) Well, my tv doesn’t work. Television? Doesn’t work? No go. No functione. Television? Room cuartro cero seis… no television. (Try miming that, those of you playing at home)
Her: OK
Next conversation :
Me:(with gestures and relevant props) Can you please change this 100 peso note (worth about $60 NZ ish)
Her: No
Next conversation to see if computer was available YET?
Receptionist sees me coming and points to another man behind the counter.
So, repeat the above conversation except there is a man answering in the negative
He adds the word “card” . I say , “Oh, I understand, I need a code. OK can I pay for a code?”
(No bonus points for guessing the answer) “No”.
Me: Wireless? (On the off-chance …. and pronounced wee- eer lease?)
Him: Si wee-eer lease …. tres y cuartro pisos ornly tree in for ummm flor
Me: Brilliant, Fantastico! Bueno!I am on the fourth floor, cuatro piso! Yo estoy en el cuatro piso.
Can I buy code/ card. I have my own computadora (cue more gestures)
Him: No, No card.
Me: (Make up your own ending here).
Power to the People:
- I have necessarily learned the word for electrical plug (enchufre). There is a Brazilian shop-owner in the hotel who will dine out on the story of a crazy foreigner (not sure if I revealed my origin) for a while. In short… I realised the phone charger and my computer plugs were incompatible with Brazilian power points; I asked at reception if they had adapters (no points for guessing the answer). So, I went to the hotel shop and was sold one for 7 pesos. Fine! Took it to my room, tried it in every power point * (more to come on this) – didn’t work. Took it to reception and asked if they would try it in their power points – didn’t work. Took it back to the shop (thinking of the Fawlty Towers episode with Mr Orilly and the dwarf with the pointy hat). Gave it to the shop keeper to try – didn’t work. Gestured replacement (more disco-dancing gestures), got replacement and was just about to go when 2 girls from our tour, in a mixture of broken English and Spanish, told me that the voltage is different here and there is a 3 pin power point in each room for the air conditioner. Brilliant! You have a choice of air conditioning or charging appliances. But why is it that a fellow tourist needs to tell me this when no one at reception or the shop owner could tell me – in gestures or a few simple words? So, I gesture exchanging the second power adapter for souvenirs from his shop. Mission accomplished. End note: the shop keeper waved happily to me as I got on the bus to leave Brazil…
- *Power points….. So far, the greatest risk to my life here was from using the power points in my hotel room. There were about 6 altogether, Lord knows why. Most of them were cracked, some of them had holes around them, and the air conditioner one was decidedly “spongy” and the two screws that held it to the wall… came away when I tried to remove the air con plug. Visions of irony as Mark, (husband/electrician and qualified electrical inspector) has to make trip to Brazil to pick up remains of electrocuted wife. And the thing is - I should have known better but decided that if I held the plate firmly against the wall with one hand and pushed/pulled plug in and out , then I should be fine. So, the room lights surged and dimmed (not sure if it was related) and the battery/charging indicator flickered between the two… but, my photos were transferred, a blog entry was written and the phone was charged. Holding a snake and a speed boat trip over rapids and under a waterfall would be a comparative piece of cake! And, I lived to tell the tale.
Flushed and Flustered:
Rule number 1 for travellers: Never miss an opportunity to use ¨Los Baños¨, and, always make sure you know the local words for said facilities. There was a moment of bewilderment on my first stop into Brazil when I was faced with making a choice of Ele and Elf, and correctly headed in the direction of Ele. As in some places in Europe, some toilet stops have people (all women so far) who provide a measured amount of paper for a donation. Unprepared for this, at the first stop I had no coins with me however I was kindly let through with a ¨donation¨ of paper from the attendant.
Rule number 2: Always carry a small packet of tissues . It took me by surprise that just about every toilet had a small bucket or plastic-lined container in each cubicle, with a varying amount of rumpled tissue paper in it. Not thinking too much about this, it wasn´t until I actually found a notice requesting all used paper go in the bucket that I realised.... oh my goodness.... they don´t seem to flush paper here.... gulp! Always taking my own tissues, I completely got it wrong at one place and used one of the measured lengths of paper outside the loo as a most inefficient paper towel. The attendant looked pityingly at me and pointed to a once-was-towel hand towel. I felt very stupid and realised that being prepared for, let-alone understanding the culture of a country can start from the ¨bottom¨upwards. My personal favourite was one set of toilets at Misiones which I paid for with all my left over Brazilian coins. For a small donation, not only did you get a reasonable ration of paper, but, because the cisterns weren´t working, the attendant also bucketed water in the bowl after you to flush it for you. Now, that´s service. Such an interesting juxtaposition alongside a very classy tourist presentation at San Ignatio.
Rule number 3: Always take a small botttle of that alcohol handwash that dries as soon as you rub it in. I have used my bottle many times. 
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