Feliz Natal!

Well we’ve made it to the state of Rio Grande do Norte, to the far eastern tip of Brazil, jutting out into the Atlantic and just a short hop over to Senegal! Here in the city of Natal there is an historic, colonial core with some brightly painted and well-preserved churches. We stumbled upon an oasis of calm in a Franciscan monastery, exploring the small church and secluded cloisters, and then on to the Metropolitan cathedral, a concrete barn thrown up in a hurry and on a tight budget, where the roof didn’t quite meet up with the walls: in this heat, it’s not such a problem. We checked out two shopping malls, the first totally modern, massive and smart with fierce air-conditioning; the second more laid back with expensive fast food joints.
Meanwhile, back in the old part of the city, on the higher ground and known as the Cidade Alta, we halted on a street corner at a tiny café for a quick pit stop: salgados (fried savouries such as empanadas and pasteis) fresh pineapple juice and an avocado vitamina. One of our goals was to locate a Terreiro do Candomblé, but the address was far out of town and time was against us. But round the next corner was some consolation, for down an atmospheric side-street we found the Casa do Orixas, a small shop devoted to statues of saints, religious artefacts and all the paraphernalia associated with the cult of Umbanda. Here the statues were of dancers, old slaves and nestling on a lower shelf was Exu. But isn’t he a Candomblé deity rather than Umbanda? Syncretic cults can be confusing, and it’s not really possible to do anything more than just scratch the surface. But at least we’ve managed to make contact!
Wandering lost through narrow streets proved to be a great decision to round the day off as little did we know that we were shortly wandering alongside notorious favela territories, where the inhabitants gave us a mixture of looks; some smiling beside others that were dubiously straight-faced. To see the favelas close up was intriguing! Narrow paths winding up through no-go dwellings which locals had built from the basic bricks that they could find, the vast majority being terracotta except from the few houses that brightened up the scene with their brilliantly bright paint colour schemes. We were sure to stop and overlook the river where the fishermen were balancing on the thin, broken concrete ledges of the harbour side, forcibly hauling in their nets using all reserve muscle power. The multicoloured fishing boats with their unique names painted on their sides and rims tended to bob gently as a gentle breeze created weak rippling movements on the water’s surface.