Matador Network's Blog, page 2207
September 4, 2014
24 images from a Syrian war zone
Life in northeastern Syria’s Rojava Province is gritty. Its agricultural economy hasn’t exactly brought wealth to the area, and foreign investment is nonexistent. War throughout Syria and a siege around the region by the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS) have further crippled Rojava’s economy and caused hundreds of thousands of civilians to flee to neighboring Iraq and Turkey.
Surprisingly, outside of the dire economic situation in Rojava and the Kurds’ war with ISIS, there’s an air of excitement. For the first time since the Ba’ath Party took control of Syria, the local Kurdish population is able to govern itself. Assad’s war with the mainly Sunni rebels over the past four years elsewhere in the country weakened government control over Kurdish territory. What has risen from the ashes of the Syrian war is a semi-autonomous Kurdish region and a revolution Rojava’s president, Akram Hasso, describes as “the Third Line,” a stance stating the Kurds aren’t with Assad or with the rebels. This is Syria’s third revolution. 
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Fire engulfs a wheat field in northeastern Syria's Rojava Province. With limited resources entering the primarily agrarian economy of Rojava, Syria, because of the war, crop fires such as this can cripple a community.
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A Kurdish People's Protection Unit (YPG) fighter stands guard at a frontline position in the war against ISIS in Rojava, Syria.
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YPG fighters share a relaxing moment near a frontline position in their battle against ISIS in Rojava, Syria.
Intermission
Arctic safari: 13 stark images from the land of polar bears
by William Drumm
2
11 stunning images of Arctic wildlife
by Espen Lie Dahl
3
Across the ravaged land
by Nick Brandt
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A YPG fighter walks atop a partially destroyed Sufi mosque used as a frontline lookout position in the war against ISIS in Til Meruf, Syria.
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A YPG fighter sits atop a partially destroyed Sufi mosque at a frontline position in the war against ISIS in the northeastern Syrian town of Til Meruf.
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YPG fighters' weapons rest on a ledge at a frontline position in their battle against ISIS in Rojava, Syria. As Assad's regime has continued to battle rebel factions across much of eastern Syria, they've essentially relinquished control of northeastern Syria and left Kurdish forces to take responsibility for the region and govern and defend themselves. During the past year the YPG has successfully pushed ISIS out of many Kurdish territories in Rojava and fortified their borders against incursions.
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Two YPG fighters, one Arab and one Kurdish, discuss recent battles with ISIS at a frontline position in Rojava, Syria.
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A Christian Syriac fighter tours the ruins of a church destroyed by ISIS in Rojava, Syria. The mainly Christian Syriac militias are separate but fighting alongside the Kurdish YPG forces to defend Rojava Province from the Islamic extremist group ISIS, which almost completely surrounds the region. The fighters pointed out broken crosses on top of the church and on gravestones that had been destroyed during the ISIS attack. A bomb had been planted in the center of the church, almost completely destroying the structure. All that remains now are the thick walls of what was once a place of worship for people in the surrounding countryside.
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A young YPG fighter adjusts his RPG at a frontline position in the war against ISIS in Rojava, Syria.
Intermission
2
11 bizarre species to look for on a Great Barrier Reef dive [pics]
by Sarah Sekula
6
A dream realized on Lady Elliot Island [pics]
by Al Mackinnon
6
The incredible things you’ll see on a road trip through Namibia [pics]
by Scott Sporleder
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Akram Hasso, the president of Kurdish-controlled Rojava, Syria, pours water on his car's radiator. He explained his belief in the changes sweeping across Syrian Kurdish lands and his opinions about Syria's future. "We should destroy all things related to the system (the Syrian regime), not just Assad; he is just a person.”
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Security forces for Akram Hasso, the president of Kurdish-controlled Rojava, Syria, on patrol in far western Jazeera Canton. The biggest threats to Akram Hasso's life are ISIS and Syrian regime supporters. Suicide attacks and IEDs are frequent in Kurdish-controlled areas, forcing high security around the president and other members of the new Kurdish government.
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Mayor of al-Qamishli, Muáz Abdulkarim, exits the door to his office on crutches he needs for a broken leg sustained after a suicide attack by ISIS on his offices in mid March. Muáz Abdulkarim's office is a simple room in a former hospital turned city hall for Rojava's largest city, al-Qamishli. There's no air conditioning, the room is sparsely furnished with stiff blue couches, and a single telephone rings constantly on a cluttered glass desk.
Muáz is six months into his two-year term as the first democratically elected Kurdish mayor of al-Qamishli since Assad's regime relinquished control of the city. The problems he faces as mayor are staggering, as city services and funding for the estimated 400,000 residents were nonexistent when the government was first established in late 2013. A decrepit infrastructure, water and food scarcity, massive unemployment, and a failing economy are just a few of the many problems Muáz and his administration are trying to tackle in the larger context of a country at war with itself.
Despite the hardships and challenges faced, Muáz stresses that "we want to show all people that we will work until the last drop of our blood."
In mid March he was injured during a suicide attack on his office complex by two ISIS militants that killed 10 people, including a pregnant woman. Muáz narrowly escaped the attack by jumping from his second-story office window, breaking his leg.
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A weapon lies against a wall in a hospital office in downtown Kurdish-controlled Qamishli, Syria.
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Masoud Mohammed counts money before heading out to buy supplies for his wedding party.
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Mohammed Amin’s wife prepares traditional homemade bread made with ingredients grown in the community. This historically agricultural region is now isolated and without imported resources, rendering the people completely self-reliant for sustenance. Meat is a scarcity, reserved for special occasions.
Intermission
1
Would you swim in this lake full of jellyfish?
by Matt Hershberger
3
The real story from Greece: 11 images of Athens in the age of austerity
by Katherine LaGrave
1
30 apocalyptic images from the protests in Kiev, Ukraine
by Ilya Varlamov
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Masoud Mohammed sleeps on the roof of his parents’ house on the outskirts of Qamishli in early June. Frequent power outages and fuel shortages make sleeping inside at night during the warmer months uncomfortable. Many people instead opt to sleep on large bed frames elevated above the rooftops of their houses to enjoy the cool night air.
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The Syrian United Arab Republic flag flies besides a statue of the late Bassel al-Assad in Qamishli, Syria. There's a strange balance of power in Qamishli and the surrounding region, with the Kurdish population now governing itself as Assad's regime relinquishes control. Regime statues and flags have remained posted in certain areas of the city but have been destroyed and replaced with Kurdish ones in others.
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Graves for YPG fighters at the Graveyard for Martyrs in Kurdish-controlled Qamishli, Syria.
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Two young children lie wrapped in a blanket. ISIS attacked this family while they slept during the early morning hours in the village of al-Taliliya. Despite the heightened security provided by the Asayish and the YPG, attacks inside Kurdish-controlled territory persist. ISIS is known for their frequent use of suicide blasts, car bombs, and brutal massacres. These tactics -- and their firsthand broadcast on social media -- are successfully striking fear and anger into the hearts of locals.
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Women mourn during a funeral in Qamishli for six YPG fighters killed in clashes with ISIS in Ras al-Ayn, Syria.
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Men watch a ceremony for fallen YPG fighters in Kurdish-controlled Qamishli, Syria. Killed while protecting Kurdish-controlled cities against ISIS, or by suicide blasts, martyred Kurds are given massive funerals.
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A slightly defaced painting of a Syrian state flag on a concrete wall in Kurdish-controlled Qamishli, Syria. Photo taken in late May.
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Kurdish YPG fighter's weapon rests on a chair at a frontline position in their battle against ISIS in Rojava, Syria.
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Wheat fields in northeastern Kurdish-controlled Syria.
You know you’ve been in Rio a while when…
Photo: andré mantelli
Prefere ler em português? Esse texto foi publicado originalmente na MatadorNetwork Brasil.
You start referring to Facebook as “facey.”
“Voce esta no facey?“(“Are you on Facebook?”) might sound like a disarming question if you’re a recent arrival in Rio, but you’ll soon figure out that you’re being asked if you have a Facebook account. You’ll probably cringe the first few times you hear it, but you’ll soon catch yourself asking the same question.
Next steps: You start referring to shopping malls as “shoppings” and to Caipirinhas as “caipis.”
Clapping loudly is a perfectly reasonable alternative to ringing a doorbell.
Doorbells are unnecessary in Rio. Many people don’t have a working doorbell even if they live in an apartment block. Doorbell systems seem prone to breaking or malfunctioning with such regularity that many people just give up on them altogether.
As such, loud clapping, whistling, and shouting are considered perfectly normal substitutes for a broken doorbell. You might feel self-conscious the first time you do it, but before long you’ll be yelling on doorsteps, too.
Your bag gets its own chair.
A common social faux pas made by foreigners new to Rio is to put their bag on the floor. This will lead to a concerned local picking it up and handing it back to you, saying “your bag was on the floor!” Cariocas — and Brazilians in general — consider it both bad luck and unhygienic to put a bag on the floor. If there isn’t a spare seat, it goes on your lap or the back of your chair (although always where you can keep an eye on it). Just never, ever on the floor.
You complain that it’s “freezing” if it’s not scorching hot.
Rio is a hot city. In summer — and large parts of the winter — it can be searingly hot, so the sensation of feeling cold becomes both odd and very unpleasant. When a “cold front” brings wind, rain, and lower temperatures, everybody shivers and complains about how terribly cold it is, even if it’s about 20 degrees celsius (69F) as opposed to the usual 35 (95F). Sweaters are piled on and plans are canceled till the weather ups its game again.
Photos clockwise from bottom left: Rodrigo Soldon, Sergio Goncalves, alobos Life, Rodrigo Gianesi
You no longer have any hangups about revealing your “knobby knees” or “wobbly thighs.”
While international media depictions would have us believe Rio is a city populated entirely by bronzed beauties with flawless bodies, the reality is somewhat different. With some truly gorgeous exceptions, most Cariocas (Rio locals) are mere mortals complete with all the usual imperfections, and the scorching heat means skimpy clothing is the norm regardless of age, size, or body type. Hey, you’ve got a glorious tan and you’re not going to hide it.
You’ve become addicted to pão de queijo.
It’s near impossible to meet a Carioca who doesn’t like pão de queijo. However, on first sampling these little cheese breads made with manioc flour, many people are unimpressed by the chewy, almost rubbery texture.
But give it a few weeks. Initial distaste will soon lead to “hmm, not so bad,” and before you know it you’ll be hooked. They’re naturally gluten-free, making a good on-the-hoof snack for anyone with a wheat or gluten intolerance.
You no longer take it literally when somebody says “I’m arriving.”
The first few times newcomers to Rio hear “estou chegando” (“I’m arriving”), they’ll get ready for the imminent arrival of the party en route. They’ll then check their phone and watch for the next couple of hours while growing increasingly annoyed / concerned / worried that they’ve been stood up. After a few occasions, the penny will drop that when a Carioca says they’re arriving, it basically means they haven’t given up on the plans and will arrive at some point. They may be just getting into the shower and planning to have a leisurely breakfast before heading off, but hold tight because they will show up.
On the other hand, if somebody says they’ll turn up “se Deus quiser” (“if God wants”), it’s almost certain they’ll be a no-show.
12 things you don't know about DC
Washington, DC, the capital of the United States of America, is one of the most visited locations in the country, drawing a record 18.9 million visitors in 2012 and generating over $6 billion a year in tourism revenue.
The city has a diverse population (and, in turn, cuisine) as well as museums, monuments, and other sites of historical significance. You’ve likely heard of many of them — others, probably not.
There’s so much more than meets the eye in DC. Read on to test your knowledge.
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A gift from Japan
The cherry trees in Washington, DC, which become a major attraction when they blossom in the spring, were imported in the early 20th century as a “gift of friendship” from the people of Japan to the people of the United States.
Photo: Y Nakanishi
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The National Cathedral's dark side
The Washington National Cathedral held a sculpture design competition for children in the 1980s. As a result, a sculpted bust of Darth Vader can be found on the northwest tower of the cathedral. The statue is difficult to spot with the naked eye.
Photo: cisc1970
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Secret subway
The United States Capitol is connected to the other buildings in the Capitol Complex via a private subway system. The system consists of six stations and three lines.
Photo: Nicholas Raymond
Intermission
8
21 things you might not know about Costa Rica
by Koty Neelis
This underwater timelapse will be the most strangely beautiful thing you’ve seen today
by Carlo Alcos
2
Diving the Great Barrier Reef
by Lindsay Clark
4
Sandstone city
Sandstone from Aquia Creek in Virginia’s Stafford County was used to build many of the structures in Washington, DC in the late 1700s and early 1800s. Buildings that incorporate Aquia Creek sandstone include the White House, portions of the US Capitol, and the National Capitol Columns.
Photo: Kay Gaensler
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Ghost soldiers
The Korean War Veterans Memorial is made up of 19 stainless steel statues representing members of the US Armed Forces. The reflective quality of the surrounding walls creates an appearance of 38 soldiers, representative of the 38th parallel.
Photo: Don McCullough
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Little Ethiopia
According to a BBC report, roughly 250,000 Ethiopians reside in and around Washington, DC, making it the second-largest Ethiopian population outside of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia’s capital.
Photo: casajump
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Student winner
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial was designed in 1981 by Maya Lin, a 21-year-old Yale University student who won a public design competition for the memorial. Her design was chosen out of 1,442 entries.
Photo: Henk Sijgers
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Stone beautiful
Upon its completion in 1884, the Washington Monument was the world’s tallest structure (standing at 555 feet, 5 1/8 inches) until it was surpassed by the Eiffel Tower five years later. The monument remains the world’s tallest freestanding stone structure.
Photo: Nicholas Raymond
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Ginevra de'Benci
Ginevra de’ Benci, a 15th-century painting of a Florentine aristocrat, is the only work by Leonardo da Vinci on public display in North America. The National Gallery of Art purchased the painting for $5 million in 1967.
Photo: Ian Burt
Intermission
1
20 things you might not know about Tokyo
by Joe Batruny
1
7 reasons to book a live-aboard dive trip to the Great Barrier Reef
by Ross Borden
1
Dive with Australia’s great white sharks
by eric warren
10
23-karat gold leaf
In 2013, American Express and the National Trust for Historic Preservation awarded a $350,000 grant to Union Station to replace the gold leaf adorning the main hall’s ceiling with 120,000 sheets of 23-karat gold leaf.
Photo: Mr. TinDC
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A European plan
Washington, DC is a planned city. The original plan (which featured wide streets, a garden-lined “grand avenue,” and a system of canals), devised by Pierre Charles L’Enfant, was based on European cities like Paris and Amsterdam.
Photo: Meghan Hess
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Taxation without representation
License plates in DC read “Taxation Without Representation”—Washington, DC residents pay taxes, but have no representation in Congress. Bill Clinton and Barack Obama’s presidential limousines have carried the plates in support of DC’s voting rights.
Photo: Adam Fagen
Free-diving with whale sharks
IN CENDERAWASIH BAY on the remote north coast of West Papua, Indonesia, a little boy on a bagan fishing platform is staring into the water, fearful but fascinated. He watches as I suck in a lungful of air and dive down with my camera to where a group of slow moving whale sharks, some as long as 11 meters, has gathered. There’s nowhere else in the world that you can witness whale shark behavior like this.
The boy’s name is Fajar, and he’s on his summer break. Forty-eight hours ago, he was saying goodbye to his classmates at his school on the island of Sulawesi. He’ll be spending two weeks of his vacation here with his father, a fisherman who lives and works on this small wooden structure for months at a time, catching fish in the voluminous nets attached underneath. Bagan fishermen use lights to attract plankton, which in turn attract planktivorous fish, squid, and other predators. In the early morning hours they take up the nets, which are often filled with thousands of fish.
It’s the fish that attract the whale sharks, of course. Primarily filter feeders, they’re happy to suck some of the smaller fish through the net, swallowing them whole. Whale sharks do in fact have tiny teeth — around 3,000 in each jaw — but it’s an evolutionary throwback that could disappear completely within a few centuries. Unless the sharks themselves disappear first. There’s a real danger they could be hunted to extinction by their most deadly predator species, Homo sapiens. Whale sharks are already classified as vulnerable by CITES, but they’re still killed so their fins can be turned into soup, their skin into leather, and their oils into cosmetics and medicine.
But the fishermen here, most of whom are from Sulawesi, don’t kill the whale sharks, because they believe the huge fish bring them good luck. They call them hiu bintang or “starry sharks” because of the pale spots and stripes that mark their skin. Some fishermen I’ve spoken to believe the huge fish bear secret maps of the heavens on their skin. But these days the fishermen have another reason not to harm the gentle giants: tourism.
In 2002, the Indonesian government declared Cenderawasih Bay a national park, affording, on paper at least, protection for the area and its marine life, including the whale sharks. The area is in the heart of the Coral Triangle, an underwater Amazon that’s home to more marine species than anywhere else on Earth. It wasn’t until 2007 that the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) discovered the symbiotic relationship the whale sharks here had struck up with the bagan fishing crews. By regularly feeding the sharks, they prevented them from pilfering their nets — and inadvertently became dive tourism entrepreneurs in the process.
2007 was also the first year I sailed these remote waters, when there was barely another boat to be seen. Since then, an increasing number of live-aboards have been including Cenderawasih Bay on their itineraries. The boat operators pay the fishermen a licence fee to allow their guest to dive and snorkel with the whale sharks that congregate around the bagans.
The fishermen may respect the whale sharks, but they also fear them and wouldn’t dream of getting in the water with the crazy tourists. So when I suggested to Fajar that he try snorkelling with me, it was no surprise when he refused. But a little gentle persistence and reassurance helped him overcome his fears, and the next day he reluctantly agreed to let me teach him how to snorkel.
There was barely enough time for him to get the breathing technique down before the first of six whale sharks approached him with obvious curiosity. He panicked, so I had to lift him out of the water and calm him down. I’d explained the biology of whale sharks to him, so he knew there was no danger — but swimming for the first time in open water with the biggest fish on the planet is intense, to say the least.
Gradually his fascination overcame his nervousness, and holding my hand gave him the security to explore the sharks up close — right up to their enormous mouths, where he could see them inhaling huge surges of seawater laced with tiny baitfish.
The bagan fishermen standing up on the platform were speechless and a little shamefaced at Fajar’s daring. He finally hopped back onto the platform like a superhero and described his experience to the adults. To my amazement, he persuaded them one by one to get in the water, and I found myself guiding a series of grizzled but nervous fishermen among the sharks. Afterwards, Fajar couldn’t stop grinning. He told me the whale sharks were his dad’s friends and that they’d keep him safe out on the bagan. “Wait till I tell my friends back at school about this,” he said with shining eyes. “They won’t believe it.”
Diana visited Cenderawasih Bay with the Seahorse Live Aboard Cruise, which runs regular trips to Raja Ampat and Cenderawasih Bay.
All photos are hers.
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This is 'Bubbles,' a male whale shark juvenile about 3m long. The shot was taken on scuba in approximately 40+ meters of water. He slowly bounced into my dive mask and camera a few times in order to get a closer look.
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After Fajar got used to the breathing technique via snorkel, he could free float on the surface close by my side. The sharks checked him out closely—it was touching to see the interaction between the little child and the jumbos.
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Ardhe Paster, a bagan fisherman from Bone in South Sulawesi. He was the first to jump in the water after Fajar encouraged him. After some initial fear and obvious discomfort, he would jump in with us every day at least once and always came back up with a blessed smile on his face.
Intermission
This underwater timelapse will be the most strangely beautiful thing you’ve seen today
by Carlo Alcos
1
7 reasons to book a live-aboard dive trip to the Great Barrier Reef
by Ross Borden
Fjord Norway was made for road trips [pics]
by Scott Sporleder
4
Snorkeler's view of the world above and below. The bagans are floating above a sandy bottom, which steeply drops from approximately 50m down to over a 100.
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On the belly of this male whale shark are several remoras, which have converted their dorsal fin to a suction device so they can attach to their "mothership" and get a free and effortless ride. The remora were also feeding on the baitfish from the fishermen.
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The fishermen and their mascots. Split shot showing the union.
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As the sharks swam circles around the bagans, they filtered plankton out of the water.
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Though enormous, this whale shark isn't fully grown.
September 3, 2014
Travelers: Legalize it!
Photo: Adrianna Broussard
It didn’t take America quite as long to end the prohibition of alcohol as it’s taken to end our drug war. Prohibition lasted 13 years, while the “War on Drugs” has gone on for an incredibly destructive 43 years to date.
Fortunately, the tide finally seems to be turning. Over the past two years, Colorado and Washington have passed and implemented pretty successful pot legalization programs, Washington DC has decriminalized the drug, and The New York Times editorial board recently called for the federal government to legalize it.
These trends can only be good news for travelers, who — whether they smoke pot or not — are often negatively affected by the consequences of a drug war they may have never even realized was being waged.
A country without violent drug gangs is way better to travel in.
The prohibition of alcohol in the United States was followed by a massive increase in gang violence, as criminals realized they could make a ton of money off the lucrative, now-underground industry. The prohibition of pot and other drugs has done the same thing: empowered violent gangs, cartels, and political or terrorist groups looking to earn some quick cash. The FARC — which has terrorized Colombia for the past 50 years — and the Taliban are known narcotics traffickers, and Hamas and Hezbollah have profited from drug money as well.
Depriving these groups of their source of income by opening up markets to the drugs and allowing for government and public oversight on growth and production would take a lot of wind out of cartel sails. It’s not like the members of the extremely violent Sinaloa Cartel would suddenly all decide to become honest working stiffs, but it would take away a lot of their money and power.
Many countries in Central and South America, as well as parts of Asia, have been plagued by gang and cartel violence — violence which has forced many children to seek refuge in the US, causing a refugee crisis on the US-Mexico border. If those drug gangs no longer have drugs to sell, those countries will likely have a much easier time curbing some of that violence, making them safer places for their citizens and for travelers.
Travelers wouldn’t have to deal with sketchy dealers.
Inevitably, some travelers are going to partake in recreational drug use when abroad. The problem, of course, is how they obtain those drugs.
It’s easy and safe enough to get drunk in most countries: You pick a bar, walk in, and throw down some money for a beer or a cocktail. Because pot and other drugs are illegal in most foreign countries, you need to find a dealer. At home your dealer is probably someone you at least vaguely trust, but your dealer abroad is likely to be a total stranger, someone who may decide it’s more profitable to mug you than to sell you an ounce.
Bringing drug dealing into a legitimate marketplace — like a grocery store or a pharmacy — is going to make the process of purchasing drugs significantly safer for travelers who are going to be using them either way.
Travelers would be safer on the roads.
This one may be a pretty big “if,” but check it out. Since the legalization of pot in Colorado, traffic fatalities have gone down. You’ll see a lot of articles claiming the number of accidents involving pot has greatly increased since legalization, but that’s misleading, as the only thing that’s increased is the number of drivers who’ve tested positive for having marijuana metabolites in their blood. If you’ve ever failed a random drug test at work, you know you can test positive for drug use weeks after you’ve actually used the drug, and that you’re obviously not still high at the time of testing.
While the evidence is hardly conclusive just yet — there are many other factors at play — some people suggest marijuana use will actually make the roads safer because people will choose marijuana over booze. And drinking impairs your ability to drive way more than pot does. This could theoretically mean that worldwide legalization of marijuana equals fewer drunk drivers on the road.
There are plenty of reasons you, as a human being, should be in favor of legalization (that the War on Drugs is racist, expensive, and ineffective at treating drug addiction are good examples), but you should also be supporting it as a traveler. Because anyone who wants to take in as much of this beautiful planet as possible should also want to make it a safer, happier, less violent place.
Into the Canadian wilderness [vid]
Brice Portolano is a French photographer who recently decided to hike the South Chilcotin Mountains in British Columbia, Canada with his friend, filmmaker Mathieu LeLay.
Armed with backpacks and cameras, the two escaped the modern world and trekked through places where no one else could be seen. Their resulting video, Keep Exploring, is incredible. Give it a watch.
What I'll miss when I leave Salvador
Photo: Vinicius Fadel
Prefere ler em português? Esse texto foi publicado originalmente na MatadorNetwork Brasil.
1. Fun being the #1 priority
Salvador is renowned for its fun-loving attitude, parties, and outdoor music shows. During the World Cup, classes in local universities were put on hold, not just for the Brazil games, but for the whole month.
I lived for five months in Pelourinho, the historic center, where freelancing proved tough. Once, when trying to meet a deadline, I heard drums in the square below my apartment. Curiosity eventually got the better of me and I decided to “pop out for five minutes to see what’s going on.” Four hours later I rocked up home with my face painted blue and a belly full of beer. What deadline…?
2. Random musical outbursts
I was waiting in line to use the bathroom in the Lapa bus station, and the two toilet attendants were handing out tissue while singing at the top of their lungs, banging away on the old table in front of them, fingers clicking, grins wide, really getting into their duet.
Similarly, stuck in a traffic jam on a bus coming back from the beach, a group of four friends started belting out their own takes on samba hits, along with a few moves. These impromptu musical outbursts happen everywhere in Salvador, from the Friday night samba in your local bar, to a group of men dancing to pagode music next to their car speakers after a win by their football team. Here, an empty water canister isn’t just an empty water canister; it’s a perfectly decent drum.
3. Bikini bodies of all shapes
My buttock-covering European bikini attracts more stares than the rather large woman in the dental-floss thong: é enorme, o seu biquini! In Brazil, putting your arse out there is way less attention-grabbing than keeping it under wraps. This is Bahia! All bodies are beautiful!
4. The unending friendliness of my neighbors
Many, but not all, Brazilians live with an open-door policy, which means your neighbors are free to come and go, help themselves to whatever’s on the stove, and fall asleep on your sofa. Neighbors are extensions of your family, and the neighborhood is an informal, friendly, supportive environment.
If someone needs a roof fixed, all the local guys will lend a hand to get the job done, as they know they’ll also need the same one day. This camaraderie creates a quasi-party atmosphere, with beer flowing, feijoada on the stove, and non-workers chatting about novelas and football.
5. Fighting to order my food
Near where I live, there’s a barraca selling fresh coconuts, snacks, fruit, etc. On my first visit, I stood there, waiting to order my coconut water with my inherent English wait-your-turn attitude. Just then someone pushed in front of me and yelled for a coconut and a sandwich.
I’ve now learned my lesson. Waiting for a polite “How may I help you?” is pointless, as the shop will close before you get a chance to order and you’ll still be standing there like an idiot.
6. Watching my novelas
Mid-manicure at my local salon, I asked about haircut prices only to be completely ignored. I asked again, but the manicurist held up a hand in a “not now querida” kind of way. Then I realized, she may be doing my nails, but she’s totally engrossed in the TV. Of course, it was novela time.
When I first arrived, I thought they’d be the kind of cheesy melodramatic efforts I’ve seen in many Latin countries, but after only two nights I was hooked, sucked in, absorbed, glued. They’re slick and glamorous with wonderfully far-fetched plots combined with real-life, hard-hitting predicaments, starring sickeningly gorgeous and well-clad actors and actresses. The birth of a guilty pleasure.
Photos clockwise from bottom left: somebody_, somebody_, Ed Butta, somebody_
7. Drinking cold beers at bus stops
Many people travel by bus in Salvador, so makeshift bars have popped up around the city’s main bus stops. Folks sell ice-cold beer from large polystyrene boxes, with cards displaying special offers, along with skewers of barbecued meat. When you’re waiting for the bus for ages, settling down on a plastic stool with an ice-cold piriguete (small beer) is a welcome treat.
With music blaring, people chatting and debating the virtues of Skol over Schin, Bahia over Victoria, you end up having so much fun you let your bus rattle by and grab another beer. I’ve gone to the bus stop solely for a beer, no bus required.
8. Eating cake for breakfast
Any country that has cake as a breakfast food deserves public accolades. Cake. For breakfast. The joy runs deep. “CAKE?! For breakfast?” asked visiting friends incredulously. Why the hell not? So it’s fine to have frosted sugar-coated cereal in your country, but not cake?
9. The endearing and sometimes confusing terms of address
Brazil has a whole range of terms of address used on the street and at home. For example, in casual environments such as the beach, you might hear men calling out “Oi, meu brodher!” (hey, brother), or “Oi gigante!” (hey, giant) to vendors, or women answering to “minha linda,” (my lovely) and “minha querida” (my dear).
One term of address I find totally befuddling, and which I’ve heard on numerous occasions, is men calling their sons and daughters “dad.” Imagine your dad calling you “dad” when you were a kid?! “Venha cá, pai!” (Come here, dad) yells a father to his three-year-old daughter in the supermarket. When I asked about it, confessing I just didn’t get it, I was the one getting the weird looks.
10. Getting psiu-ed at
Once again, in informal bars or on the beach, there’s a popular attention-grabbing technique similar to the English “pssst,” but in Portuguese it’s more of a “psiu.” At first I thought it was rude, but then I noticed its widespread use, especially at the beach.
The problem is, everyone reacts to it: “Who me? Who’s psiu-ing me?” wonder itinerant vendors of cheese, beer, earrings, and bikinis. However, when I tried psiu-ing, it just didn’t project down the windy beach. My psiu needs some work. Either that or I could just continue to flail my arms in the right direction.
11. The Brazilicization of English words
As is often the case with languages, English words have worked their way into everyday Brazilian Portuguese, yet they’re not pronounced as we know them. They’ve been given a little makeover to adapt to the country’s phonetics. Take the word “picnic.” In Brazilian Portuguese, it becomes the marvelous PIK-ee NIK-ee. “Hot dog” becomes Ho-chee Do-ggee. “Smartphone” is eh-SMAH-chee FOH-nee, and “hip-hop” becomes the hilarious HEE-pee HOH-pee.
My friend asked me if I like the band Hedchee Hotchee. I shook my head, “Never heard of them.”
“Sure you have,” he persisted. “They’re international!”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, but sing me a few lines.”
He broke into a rendition of a Red Hot Chili Peppers classic.
“But that’s the Red Hot Chili Peppers, not Hedchee Hotchee…aah!” Of course, silly me. 
What I’ll miss when I leave Salvador
Photo: Vinicius Fadel
Prefere ler em português? Esse texto foi publicado originalmente na MatadorNetwork Brasil.
1. Fun being the #1 priority
Salvador is renowned for its fun-loving attitude, parties, and outdoor music shows. During the World Cup, classes in local universities were put on hold, not just for the Brazil games, but for the whole month.
I lived for five months in Pelourinho, the historic center, where freelancing proved tough. Once, when trying to meet a deadline, I heard drums in the square below my apartment. Curiosity eventually got the better of me and I decided to “pop out for five minutes to see what’s going on.” Four hours later I rocked up home with my face painted blue and a belly full of beer. What deadline…?
2. Random musical outbursts
I was waiting in line to use the bathroom in the Lapa bus station, and the two toilet attendants were handing out tissue while singing at the top of their lungs, banging away on the old table in front of them, fingers clicking, grins wide, really getting into their duet.
Similarly, stuck in a traffic jam on a bus coming back from the beach, a group of four friends started belting out their own takes on samba hits, along with a few moves. These impromptu musical outbursts happen everywhere in Salvador, from the Friday night samba in your local bar, to a group of men dancing to pagode music next to their car speakers after a win by their football team. Here, an empty water canister isn’t just an empty water canister; it’s a perfectly decent drum.
3. Bikini bodies of all shapes
My buttock-covering European bikini attracts more stares than the rather large woman in the dental-floss thong: é enorme, o seu biquini! In Brazil, putting your arse out there is way less attention-grabbing than keeping it under wraps. This is Bahia! All bodies are beautiful!
4. The unending friendliness of my neighbors
Many, but not all, Brazilians live with an open-door policy, which means your neighbors are free to come and go, help themselves to whatever’s on the stove, and fall asleep on your sofa. Neighbors are extensions of your family, and the neighborhood is an informal, friendly, supportive environment.
If someone needs a roof fixed, all the local guys will lend a hand to get the job done, as they know they’ll also need the same one day. This camaraderie creates a quasi-party atmosphere, with beer flowing, feijoada on the stove, and non-workers chatting about novelas and football.
5. Fighting to order my food
Near where I live, there’s a barraca selling fresh coconuts, snacks, fruit, etc. On my first visit, I stood there, waiting to order my coconut water with my inherent English wait-your-turn attitude. Just then someone pushed in front of me and yelled for a coconut and a sandwich.
I’ve now learned my lesson. Waiting for a polite “How may I help you?” is pointless, as the shop will close before you get a chance to order and you’ll still be standing there like an idiot.
6. Watching my novelas
Mid-manicure at my local salon, I asked about haircut prices only to be completely ignored. I asked again, but the manicurist held up a hand in a “not now querida” kind of way. Then I realized, she may be doing my nails, but she’s totally engrossed in the TV. Of course, it was novela time.
When I first arrived, I thought they’d be the kind of cheesy melodramatic efforts I’ve seen in many Latin countries, but after only two nights I was hooked, sucked in, absorbed, glued. They’re slick and glamorous with wonderfully far-fetched plots combined with real-life, hard-hitting predicaments, starring sickeningly gorgeous and well-clad actors and actresses. The birth of a guilty pleasure.
Photos clockwise from bottom left: somebody_, somebody_, Ed Butta, somebody_
7. Drinking cold beers at bus stops
Many people travel by bus in Salvador, so makeshift bars have popped up around the city’s main bus stops. Folks sell ice-cold beer from large polystyrene boxes, with cards displaying special offers, along with skewers of barbecued meat. When you’re waiting for the bus for ages, settling down on a plastic stool with an ice-cold piriguete (small beer) is a welcome treat.
With music blaring, people chatting and debating the virtues of Skol over Schin, Bahia over Victoria, you end up having so much fun you let your bus rattle by and grab another beer. I’ve gone to the bus stop solely for a beer, no bus required.
8. Eating cake for breakfast
Any country that has cake as a breakfast food deserves public accolades. Cake. For breakfast. The joy runs deep. “CAKE?! For breakfast?” asked visiting friends incredulously. Why the hell not? So it’s fine to have frosted sugar-coated cereal in your country, but not cake?
9. The endearing and sometimes confusing terms of address
Brazil has a whole range of terms of address used on the street and at home. For example, in casual environments such as the beach, you might hear men calling out “Oi, meu brodher!” (hey, brother), or “Oi gigante!” (hey, giant) to vendors, or women answering to “minha linda,” (my lovely) and “minha querida” (my dear).
One term of address I find totally befuddling, and which I’ve heard on numerous occasions, is men calling their sons and daughters “dad.” Imagine your dad calling you “dad” when you were a kid?! “Venha cá, pai!” (Come here, dad) yells a father to his three-year-old daughter in the supermarket. When I asked about it, confessing I just didn’t get it, I was the one getting the weird looks.
10. Getting psiu-ed at
Once again, in informal bars or on the beach, there’s a popular attention-grabbing technique similar to the English “pssst,” but in Portuguese it’s more of a “psiu.” At first I thought it was rude, but then I noticed its widespread use, especially at the beach.
The problem is, everyone reacts to it: “Who me? Who’s psiu-ing me?” wonder itinerant vendors of cheese, beer, earrings, and bikinis. However, when I tried psiu-ing, it just didn’t project down the windy beach. My psiu needs some work. Either that or I could just continue to flail my arms in the right direction.
11. The Brazilicization of English words
As is often the case with languages, English words have worked their way into everyday Brazilian Portuguese, yet they’re not pronounced as we know them. They’ve been given a little makeover to adapt to the country’s phonetics. Take the word “picnic.” In Brazilian Portuguese, it becomes the marvelous PIK-ee NIK-ee. “Hot dog” becomes Ho-chee Do-ggee. “Smartphone” is eh-SMAH-chee FOH-nee, and “hip-hop” becomes the hilarious HEE-pee HOH-pee.
My friend asked me if I like the band Hedchee Hotchee. I shook my head, “Never heard of them.”
“Sure you have,” he persisted. “They’re international!”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, but sing me a few lines.”
He broke into a rendition of a Red Hot Chili Peppers classic.
“But that’s the Red Hot Chili Peppers, not Hedchee Hotchee…aah!” Of course, silly me.
Dos and don'ts of cemetery conduct
Photo: keeva999
I was a teenage goth. Absolute Dr. Marten boot-stomping, black fingernail-painting, absinthe-swigging, hoodie-rocking, Anne Rice-reading, pastel-hating, SPF 125-smearing, Nine Inch Nails-worshipping, parent-shaming goth.
To mother’s delight, I’ve shed most of the trappings from that era — save my enthusiasm for graveyards. Wherever I travel I seek them out, and since burial is among the few ubiquitous cultural customs, they aren’t too hard to find. No matter where you go, chances are someone died before you got there.
Picnics
It seems a little smug to rub it in to the dead folks that you’re alive and well and eating an artisanal cheese sandwich, but there are some graveyards so beautiful they practically beg for a checkered tablecloth and a nice bottle of chenin blanc.
Case in point: Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn. The place is so bucolic and the view of the New York skyline so stunning a picnic seems like a damn fine idea. Just remember not to be a dick and clean up after yourself. While you’re at it, stop and pay your respects to Jean-Michel Basquiat, arguably the cemetery’s most famous citizen. Alternatively, for the necromantic namaste crowd, Greenwood offers weekend yoga classes among the gravestones. Seriously.
Filmmaking
This can go either way. The 1988 INXS video for “Never Tear Us Apart,” with its somber overcoats, lonely sax solo, winter light, and sweeping shots of Prague’s 600-year-old Jewish cemetery, is essentially a post-Velvet Revolution promotional video for Czech tourism. It’s a do, and lead singer Michael Hutchence’s hair in the clip is nothing short of a revelation.
Easy Rider’s LSD-induced fuck session between Dennis Hopper, Peter Fonda, and a pair of hookers among the mausoleums in New Orleans’ St. Louis Cemetery No. 1? Not so much. Following the release of the film, the Catholic Church, which doesn’t take kindly to trespassing, decreed a ban on all filming in the city’s oldest cemetery. Curiously, they were cool with actor Nicolas Cage purchasing a pyramid sarcophagus for himself in 2010. You can see Mr. Cage’s future final resting place and the tomb of voodoo priestess Marie Laveau by booking one of the city’s Save Our Cemeteries tours.
Gravestone rubbing
Unless you are Morrissey, or a direct descendant of the grave holder in question, I call the practice of charcoal transfers a don’t. Even worse is the use of shaving cream on old headstones to make them more legible. That shit contains unpronounceable chemicals not yet created at the time many headstones were cut. No one wants the last evidence of his or her life to be slathered in Gillette. Uncouth.
Photography
Photographing graveyards is okay. Photographing mourners in the act of mourning is not. The lady in black wool and a faded babushka with grief cut into her face is not an appropriate subject for a black-and-white Tumblr photo essay. I learned this the hard way in Buenos Aires’ La Recoleta Cemetery, and I’m certain I still have a blasphemer’s curse hanging around my head to this day.
Taking mementos
An ex-boyfriend brought me a bone fragment from a Roman catacomb. Shit ain’t right. It’s an invitation for bad dreams and the reason he earned the “ex-” prefix.
Leaving mementos
I’m all for an impromptu and accidentally artistic alter. It’s touching and sweetly pagan when done within reason. The mysterious bottle of cognac and trinity of roses left on Edgar Allan Poe’s grave in Baltimore? A little dramatic for my taste but appropriate nonetheless. Guitar picks, whiskey, and tit-flashing polaroids on Dimebag Darrel’s headstone? Absolutely fitting.
I draw the line at cigarette butts and lighters, though. I saw them in multitudes at Paris’ Père Lachaise around Jim Morrison’s grave. Do you really believe the resurrected corpse of Mr. Mojo Rising would be tickled to see his final resting place covered in shitty Bic lighters, bad poetry, and lipstick-stained Marlboros? I think not.
Save your lipstick for Oscar Wilde’s tomb a few rows over. It’s beautifully covered in red-stained kisses, a tribute to the man who once wrote, “A kiss may ruin a human life.” But be stealthy about it — French authorities are threatening to fine anyone caught in the act 9,000 euros. Kind of prudish for a culture that supposedly invented the art of the makeout.
29 signs you're from SoCal
Photo: Spencer Finnley
1. You consider tacos and burritos major food groups. When abroad, you miss Mexican food more than family and friends.
2. You know In-N-Out’s secret menu by heart. Your usual order: animal style, a fresh beef patty with mustard baked in, slathered with tangy Thousand Island and onions hot off the grill. When you’re feeling healthy: protein style, which swaps the bun for a lettuce leaf.
3. You shop for virtually any fruit or vegetable at Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods, unaware it’s out of season until you get to the cash register.
4. Either you or one of your friends is on a juice cleanse or raw-food diet.
5. You spend at least 30% of your day driving. Except on Sundays, when you just drive to the gym.
6. You own a bike, but the only time you ride it is when you load it into your Explorer, drive 20 miles to meet your bike club, tool around with your cycling buddies, then reverse the process and drive home.
7. You know how to surf, skateboard, and ski, as well as what jargon to use when engaging in each of these activities.
8. You always use the definite article when referring to freeways — e.g., “the 101” or “the 405.”
9. Regardless of distance, you tell friends it’ll take 20 minutes to get there, depending on traffic. This ensures accuracy since traffic can account for endless delays.
10. You have no idea how to ride a public bus. The only people who ride buses in LA are transplants, household help, and folks with pending DUIs.
11. You know you’ll lose friends if you ask them to take you to LAX. If that’s your departure point, you spend the 50 bucks for a shuttle, leave your car in long-term parking, or switch to a suburban airport in Long Beach, the OC, or Ontario if you want free, friendly transport.
12. You stress about jaywalking because you’ve copped one too many tickets for crossing against the light. You warn friends from abroad, but most ignore you and do it anyway. Except the Germans, who have similar rules in their country.
13. You know at least one able-bodied person with a “Disabled” sign on their dashboard, allowing access to prime handicapped parking at stores, restaurants, sports, and concert venues.
14. Cold makes you anxious, especially when temps dip below 65. Anything below 50 has you staying indoors with the heat on.
15. You only own one jacket, other than the goose-down number reserved for skiing and camping.
16. June is the saddest month, when you live with fog and gray skies.
17. You lose your driving ability when it rains.
18. Earthquakes are no big deal. If you lived through Northridge, you can live through anything.
19. You’ve never seen it snow. Sure, you’ve been to Big Bear or Lake Arrowhead for riding, but you’ve never actually seen white stuff come from the sky.
20. You consider flip-flops appropriate for most occasions. For weddings and funerals, you wear fancy sandals.
21. You’ve asked at least one friend, “Are yours real or fake?”
22. Most of your buddies have the same first name: “Dude.”
23. You’d NEVER refer to your home state as “Cali.”
24. “Dank” describes anything especially good, as in, “This burger is dank.” While Merriam-Webster defines “dank” as “wet and cold in a way that is unpleasant,” the word refers to tasty food or high-quality marijuana in LA.
25. You aren’t from Los Angeles, even if your address says so. Any pride you have about living in SoCal is overshadowed by loyalty to your ‘hood. Whether it’s Venice, West Hollywood, Silverlake, or over the hill in the San Fernando Valley (where everything is cheaper and water boils in your car), that’s where you hang.
26. Several of your friends are trying to break into The Industry. Between casting calls and auditions, they bartend or wait tables in Hollywood.
27. You’re smitten by at least one LA sports team. Whether it’s the Dodgers, Angels, Clippers, Lakers, Kings, or Ducks, you’ll watch them in action, live, or on the tube.
28. If you’re a Bruin, you consider USC students spoiled brats. If you’re a Trojan, every other student is beneath you.
29. You wonder why anyone would live any place other than Southern California.
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