Bustle and hustle
Thursday, November 13th, 2008
A street in downtown Salvador, Brazil.
One of my favorite things to do in Salvador, Brazil, is to walk down the street. I know, it doesn’t sound rip roaring or even mildly exciting, but you just have to trust me when I say it’s a worthwhile experience. Salvador is a city of about 4 million (large in my grand scheme of things since I’m from a tiny town in Vermont, U.S.A.); so it’s not as though there is a shortage of places to go: beachfront restaurants with tables legs nestled in the sand and green coconuts on the menu; neighborhood restaurants spilling out into the street; city squares and centers decorated with capoeira performers or slow wandering tourists; museums, galleries and clubs. For me, however, it’s enough to take the local buses and get off when I choose to wander the streets. There’s a street called Avenida Sete de Setembro that runs the length of waterfront Salvador. When you walk from Praça da Sé, abutting the historic centre of Pelourinho, you can walk for what seems several kilometers, I’m sure. I’m not one to count steps or mark distances (I’ve always been bad with directions) but I do know that you can spend hours just looking at and feeling the atmosphere. And there’s so much to touch! Leather, for one; at one junction where Avenida Sete de Setembro meets another street, there’s a huge leather market. The thousands of shoes are strapped onto the stall fronts, dangling in pairs of men’s, women’s and children’s. As far as I understand, they are made by hand in outlying areas of Bahia. There are also black fur hats, white leather bags, and garments that have been dipped, carved and pierced. I bought a pair of leather thongs – probably one of the more “low fi” pairs available, but lovely, nonetheless. I waited in the sun, barefoot, while the stall vendor adjusted then readjusted the shoe strap to fit perfectly. He would slide the shoe onto my foot; look up at me, and in my broken Portuguese, I’d tell him sim or não for how the shoe was fitting. He would nod, take the shoe, and disappear behind one of the stalls; I never saw which was his. But he’d reappear with the shoe, stretched or tightened, and we’d go through the routine again. The sandals fit perfectly now (as leather shoes do if given enough time on your feet.) When I wear them now, I remember the sound of the hard soles tap tap tapping along the cobbled streets of Salvador. The shoes make a different noise here, on more level pavement. After I bought those shoes that day, we carried on up the street, passing people wearing sandwich boards advertising political campaigns; shop owners leaning on the doorjambs of their shops; and men gathered in little groups around one of the cafezinho carts – little 4-wheeled contraptions pushed by the owner who sells little espresso shots of sweetened coffee from the row of tall, narrow bottles lining the cart. These carts are yet another of my favorite things to look for on the streets – red, yellow, green but all with black wheels, and each with a distinct style. There are indeed like roving cafés, providing momentary caffeine satisfaction and a pause in people’s journeys up and down the streets. I could suggest several restaurants, bars, museums, and galleries to visit in Salvador; but I would suggest your first activity is to find the nearest street curb along Avenida Sete de Setembro, and park yourself there long enough to watch the activity.
