Some of you will already know that I'm a fan of Brazilian fruit. Every time I've been to Brazil I've been amazed that there is so much fruit, so delicious, so many kinds, so many fruits that I'd never even heard of: but I'd never seen such a cornucopia as in Belém. In the market by the docks they were selling cupuaçu, bacuri, muruci, mangaba, maracujá, manga, araça, abacaxí, goiaba, graviola, cajú, cacau, acerola, taperebá, tamarino, uxi, açaí, tucumá, carambola, buruti. Wow. Here are a few of those fruits for you.
MANGA
Manga means mango.
One of the names of Belém is "the city of the mango trees".
The street I was walking down was lined with mango trees, whose shade provided precious protection from the fury of the sun. I passed stalls selling pirate DVDs, jewellery made from wood and feathers, strange sticky fruit heaped in pyramids, brightly-coloured underwear. I turned the corner into a patch of blinding sunlight, which I hurried across to the shaded tacacá stall, where I'd come for lunch. Tacacá is a typical meal in Belém.
The tacacazeira handed me a bowl made out of a gourd, containing what looked like a bit of swamp -- dull green liquid with shrimps and water weed floating in it: and also a toothpick. I speared the shrimps with the toothpick (they were cooked), and then I started fishing out the pieces of the water weed and eating them. In fact they were leaves of a special plant called jambu which numbs your tongue. I felt pins and needles all over the inside of my mouth. Then I sipped the green soup. It was steaming hot, and had hot peppers in as well. It interacted with the taste of the leaves in an interesting way, relieving the pins and needles and replacing it with a smoother sensation. At the bottom of the bowl was a transparent gloopy substance about the same texture as raw egg white -- but it tasted OK.
Eating the tacacá made me feel good. When the bowl was empty I felt very well fed, and I couldn't help smiling. I sat in the mango tree shade for a while, savouring the feeling.
Tuas ruas sombreadas de mangueiras
Onde as morenas faceiras
Curtem o clima tropical
Your streets shaded by mango trees, where the flirtatious dark-skinned girls enjoy the tropical climate
-- "Sinos de Belém", by David Miguel
Actually the climate is not tropical, it's equatorial. Some of my colleages from tropical parts of Brazil were also visiting Belém: they complained about the heat. It's more difficult to enjoy an equatorial climate unless you have a lot of assistance from mango trees.
CARAMBOLA
Carambola is called starfruit in English. I prefer the name carambola, it's more
elegant, like the taste of the fruit itself.
The French colonists built lovely parks in Belém, which are now rather dishevelled. I walked through one. Climbing plants sprawled over the statues. Stones were missing from the decorated paving of the gently curving promenades, which branched into five-fold carambola shapes. Water spouted from a belle-époque style fountain with mermaids of tarnished bronze. There was a plaque by the side of the fountain, engraved with a poem.
In the bandstand a beggar asked me for money, first in French and then in two other languages.
As criancinhas correm ao redor
do velho chafariz que renasceu.
Das trombas
das sereias de bronze
brinca ao jorrar o líquido incolor
que coloria
de alegria
tardes que a minha infância conheceu.The little girls run around
the old fountain that was restored.
From the waterspouts
of the bronze mermaids
gushes and plays the colourless liquid
that coloured
with joy
afternoons that my childhood knew.
-- "As Sereias" by Alonso Rocha
CASTANHA-DO-PARÁ
Belém is in the state of Pará, and is sometimes known as Belém do Pará to distingush
it from other cities called Belém. Pará is an indigenous word meaning
"river" -- the river in question being the river, the Amazon itself.
The Amazon splits up into many smaller rivers at its delta,
and Belém is on one of these tributaries, which is a mighty
river in its own right.
In Brazil, a brazil nut is called castanha-do-Pará, a Pará-chestnut. Brazil nuts grow in the forests near Belém. They have a hard spherical outer shell, like a coconut, which has to be chopped open with a machete. Inside are dark brown segments. When the shells enclosing these segments have been removed (more machete work, this time quite fiddly), the hard white nuts can finally be eaten.
At Belém harbour, small boats were unloading cargoes of nuts, of Amazon river fish, of fruits of all shapes and colours. A man was chopping brazil nuts on a table next to the quay. It was low tide, and the inner harbour had become a mud flat. On the mud were hundreds of vultures, feeding on the leftovers of the fishmarket. The smell was so thick that it seemed hard to walk through it. When I got to the square next to the harbour, I did a double-take. There was a clock tower which looked just like Big Ben. What was the landmark of my native city doing there?
As I walked past moored boats, the sailors waved to me from their hammocks. They looked extremely comfortable.
Esse rio é minha rua,
minha e tua mururé,
piso no peito da lua,
deito no chão da maré.This river is my street, the floorboards for you and me, I stand on the chest of the moon, I lie down on the ground of the tide.
-- "Esse rio é minha rua", by Ruy Barata.
ARAÇA
Araça (pronounced arassa) is like a small, delicate peach. I'm not tall -- 5 foot 2 -- but most of the people I saw in the streets of Belém were shorter
than me. They were graceful, with delicate features.
The most famous folk music from Belém is called carimbó. It sounds a bit caribbean: you can hear a sample here. There is a very very happy dance that goes with it, which basically consists of turning round in circles wiggling your bottom in a joyful manner. I attempted to do this dance, but failed completely. I just don't have the araça for it.
In Belém they say "égua" a lot, and occasionally "pai d'égua", or "father of égua". A tourist guide explained. Égua, he said, is a beautiful river, pai d'égua is the Amazon. Égua is satisfying food, pai d'égua is tacacá. Égua is a happy dance, pai d'égua is carimbó. I deduced that the Bristolian translation of égua is lush, pai d'égua is gert lush. Indeed, you can buy Tshirts in Bristol saying GERT LUSH and in Belém saying PAI D'EGUA. "Pai d'égua" is also the name of a song that I saw people wiggling happily to in Belém. Although the dance may not be anatomically feasible for everyone, the sentiment of the song is universal: it's gert lush to make love with your beloved.
É pai d'égua doutor
Pai d'égua é fazer amor com meu amor
BACURI
"If you try only one fruit in Belém", a friend had told me, "it should be
bacuri".
On my way to the zoobotanical museum I entered a café for some
shade, and discovered they sold bacuri icecream. It was creamy. Very creamy.
If white chocolate tasted like a sour-sweet fruit it would be bacuri. There
were were blood-red inedible pips which had survived into the icecream.
The café owner told me that the fruit is stuffed full of these pips, the pulp
is wrapped around them.
Bacuri fruit comes from a timber tree which only grows in equatorial forests. In the gardens of the zoobotanical museum there were other rare plants and animals, several of which were close to extinction, such as the harpy eagle and the scarlet ibis (the ones I saw were actually fuchsia-pink). There were animals in cages, but I found the ones outside the cages equally interesting. A huge green iguana crawled with imperious nonchalance over the top of a cage of elegant toucans. Two-foot-long rat-like creatures with glossy red fur on their hindquarters darted ahead of me on the path. There was a whole treeful of scarlet ibises, looking like gigantic blossoms.
Indigenous people once lived in the gardens, but the tribe is now extinct. 63 indigenous artefacts were found in the grounds of the museum, and are displayed in a few rooms. I looked at one of the artefacts, which had been made out of wood with evident craftsmanship. It was long, flaired, and had a kind of hinge at one end and curved notches at the other, and I wondered: was it a cooking implement? A musical instrument? A hunting tool? Some kind of furniture? An ornament? The ceramic jars in the museum were extremely beautiful, with abstract decorations that looked simultaneously ancient and very modern.
The museum also had a small display of "new species" - by which they meant species that had been recently discovered. One of the species was called Pau d'Indio, Indian's wood, suggesting that its discovery had in fact been not so recent, or else that discovery by indigenous people didn't count. I know very little about the history of the state of Pará, but what I've read is as bloody as bacuri pips: wars, slavery and genocide.
Antes que matem os rios,
e as matas por onde andei,
antes qeu cubram de lixo,
o lixo da nossa lei,
deixa que cante contigo,
debruçado em peito amigo,
as coisas que tanto amei,
as coisas que tanto amei.
Before they kill the rivers, and the forests where I walked, before they cover them with litter, the litter of our law, let me sing with you, leaning on your shoulder my friend, of the things I loved so much, of the things I loved so much.
-- "As coisas que tanto amei" by Ruy Barata, sung by Fafá de Belém
AÇAI
Açaí is a berry. When it's dried it has a dark spot on one side. It grows in
the area around Belém, in particular the island of Marajó,
and is a very important part of the local diet. It's full of vitamins and
gives you energy.
Açaí grows on very tall palm trees. To harvest it, someone has to shin up the açaí palm. A group of us watched Mr. Ladí, age 73, climbing up using a circle of leaves round his feet to help them grip the thin trunk. The palm swayed and bent as he climbed. Halfway up he changed over to another palm growing next to the first. To descend, he just slid down the tree to the ground. All the Brazilians watching said "Caramba!"
I bought an açaí sorbet from a street vendor. He had two different types of açaí on offer. The sorbet was dark purple in colour, and tasted spicy and fruity, a bit like a mulberry. The stall behind the sorbet vendor was selling necklaces of a striking design made from dyed açaí berries.
A tua fruta vai rolando
Para os nossos alguidares
E te entrega ao sacrifício
Fruta santa fruta mártir
Tens o dom de seres muito
Onde muitos não têm nada
Uns te chamam de açaizeiro
Outros te chamam juçara
Põe tapioca, põe farinha d'água
Põe açúcar, não põe nada, ou me bebe como um suco
Que eu sou muito mais que um fruto
Sou sabor marajoara
Your fruit goes rolling into our earthenware bowls, and delivers you to the sacrifice, holy fruit, martyr fruit. You have the gift to be much where many people have nothing. Some call you the açai tree, others the juçara. Add cassava, add water, add sugar, add nothing, or drink me as a juice, for I am much more than a fruit, I am the flavour of Marajó.
-- "Sabor Açaí" by Nilson Chaves
When I next looked in a mirror I discovered I had a purple spot of açaí on my cheek.
TAPAREBÁ
Taparebá is a light golden fruit with a clean taste, a bit like a
small apricot.
In addition to the Amazon regions,
it also grows in the Northeast of
Brazil, where it's called cajá. In the market of Campina Grande in Northeast
Brazil there are displays of cajá fruits heaped up in sliver cylinders, looking like
gaudy fake jewels for an addict of bling.
I was in Belém for a conference. Some students I knew from Campina Grande were also at the conference. These chaps party hard: when they go to a bar, it's a point of honour for them to stay until it closes. They knew of a bar in Belém called Boémio. Boémio means a bohemian, but it also could be the first person of a verb boémiar, meaning "to bohemian". "Let's bohemian this evening, Miranda", they said. So we did. There was a live band and a livelier crowd. The walls were decorated with charicatures of famous Brazilians of bohemian habits, and of some other people who were perhaps regular customers.
At some point in the night, a sort of contest started between our table and the Belém inhabitants at the next table, about who could party harder. But actually it was no contest: the locals outbohemianed us in every category. They talked more and louder and more wildly, they drank more by volume and by alcoholic strength, they danced more and faster and more flirtatiously, they laughed more loudly and more often. Eventually one of the Campina Grande crowd said "yes, but I bet we can dance forró better than you".
Now, forró is the local dance from the interior of Northeast Brazil, not a dance from anywhere near Belém at all. Moreover, Campina Grande is the world capital of forró. Every year there's a party in Campina Grande in which the whole town dances forró. The party lasts for a month. I told you these chaps party hard. So, the Campina Grande crowd did a little forró demonstration. Then it was the turn of the Belém crowd -- and yes -- they out-forród the Campina Grande chaps. As well as outdoing them in everything else. I declared officially (as a neutral referee, from outside Brazil) that the Belém table had won the contest. Taparebá beat cajá, by at least 10 degrees Centigrade.
The bar officially closed at 3am. The contest ended at 4am. I felt sorry for the waiters, but they seemed to be relaxed about having an extra hour's work. Perhaps a 4am finish is a regular occurrence.
Se chego em casa mais tarde
Tenho que dar explicação
A patroa não se conforma
Aí começa a discussão
Sou chamado de irresponsável
De boémio e homem mau
E pra acabar com esta querela
Eu vou dando o meu tchau.
If I get back home later I have to give an explanation, the missus isn't satisfied, and then the quarrel begins. I'm called irresponsible, a bohemian and a bad man; to prevent this complaint I'm saying bye-bye to you now.
-- "Fim de festa", Belém samba by David Miguel
CUPUAÇU
I ate fresh cupuaçu on a boat trip to the Amazonian forest close to
Belém. It was a round fruit, larger than a large grapefruit. Its flesh was
creamy white, and in the shade of the immense forest trees it seemed to
glow. It was delicious. Sticky juice remained on my
fingers. I had already tried cupuaçu juice made from frozen pulp in the city,
but fresh off the tree, the fruit tasted sweeter and even
more refreshing.
The boat passed slowly down the river, gliding through the dark green mysterious forest as the sun set. Then the river turned a corner, and everyone on the boat gasped. Ahead of us, framed on both sides by forest, were the white skyscrapers of Belém, spotlit by a cupuaçu moon.
Parece o olho de Deus no céu
Mas é o rosto da princesa
Que vive a espiar a terra
Espelho de luz e beleza
Prateada linda e nua
Passeando entre as estrelasIt seems to be the eye of God in the heavens, but it is the face of the princess who lives to watch the earth, mirror of light and beauty, silvered beautiful and naked, taking a walk between the stars
-- "Lua cheia", by Antônio Maranhão
And the other fruits in Belém market, muruci, tamarino, tucumá, uxi, pumpunha,
buruti, what are they like?
I don't know. I didn't have time to try them. So that's another reason
to go back to Belém.
Love and fruit to you all,
Miranda Mowbray
