No more drinks, but one more round, please.

Happy birthday Jimmie! Quarter of a century! Good job with the whole life thing. It is working out for you.

We woke with time for breakfast, which was good. We were off to the turtle refuge about an hour out of town. The name of the place is Arembepe. We were able to convice our three Austrian friends and our Italian friend to come with us. Our group turned to seven for the day, and it was good to have a new group of faces. There was Johanna, Finka, and Philipp from Austira, and Tomaso from Italy( but living in Berlin now). The bus ride took around an hour.

When we arrived, it was easy to find the road to head down. On about a 10 to 15 minute walk down a dirt road till we found the turtle spot. It coast a little and then we were in. There were about 5 different kinds of adult sea turtles, and two types of baby turtles. The adults didn't seem to have enough space, considering that they are meant to be in the oceans. They were interested in our presence, and they showed this interest by swimming from the bottom and up to the surface. They would take a look and swim around their spaces. All the adults looked to have vision problems or scars, and I believe they were being held for these reasons. It was a bit sad to see them kept up like this, but it made me happier just to see them again. I absolutely love their kind and their essence. They are just the most peaceful animals I have ever had the chance to come in contact with.

We watched them eat shards of fish and sea fruits, and we got hungry as well. There is word that Janis Joplin and Mic Jagger had hung out at the hippie village down the way, back in the 60´s. We headed there because there was also word that there was a restaurant with great mucacha, an African influenced Brazilian dish. There were no roads past the turtle project. We made our way around a lake to find this village, and village it was. We could see grass thatched huts and cabanas between the palm trees in the distance and we made our way there in search of food. There was a sign that said Janis Joplin camp. Apparently they are still riding her wake. the only restaurant there said they had the mucacha we were looking for.

They did not serve beer but we were told that they did around back. Josh and I left our friends there in the patio and we headed out for libations. There was a compound up on top of the dunes and that is where we thought we would find this beer we were looking for. There was a rasta and a couple others surrounded by lazy cats. They invited us in and offered us some really good company right off the bat. There was some cheap booze they insisted we drink with them and there was meat just out of the skillet that we ate with them. One man was so excited (and drunk) to talk to me (in Portuguese) that he began crying when talking about his heritage. From what I could tell, some of his blood lines go back to Switzerland, but he is pure Bahian. He started chanting with joy in his voice and tears in his eyes, ´BAHIA! BAHIA! BAHIA!´ I didn´t know what else to do but chime in with him! He was getting really emotional all of a sudden and it looked like he needed someone to get excited with. There was a little drunk hippie woman who was also really excited about my vest of heirlooms and we traded a relic for relic. This made us both very happy. The rasta showed us around his unfinished cabana, and I did my best to memorize the construction meathod.

Josh found the beers and brought them to the table. Soon after the food was there. We had ordered two meals, one of shrimp and the other of fish and shrimp. There were two salads, two plates of rice and beans, and two bowls of powdered mandioca. I do not believe I have written about this powdered mandioca yet. It is from the mandioca root, and it is pulverized into a powder that can be sprinkled all over the beans and rice and meat. It makes any dish tastier and more solidified. It had been served with just about every frato pretu (fresh plate) of the trip. It is a big deal in these parts of the world.

After a lengthy meal we headed over to the beach. Jimmie and the Austrians laid down for a small siesta, Tomaso walked down the beach, and Josh and I had it out with the Gammon board. He beat me enough to where I had to walk down the beach. I found incredible spiral shells, for worms maybe. Sea worms? Dunno? I collected enough for everyone in the group to have one. I handed them out and walked the other way down the beach. It was such a beautiful day. The clouds were massivly quilted with different textures upon one another. The sky was the largest I had seen it in a while, looming over the water as it was. The ocean was loud and turbulent as it crashed against the rocks within the waves near the shore. As we walked down the beach towards town, the sun was setting away from the ocean. The pink sky changed slowly behind the sillouttes of the palm trees. I felt like I was in a dream. This setting is what post cards can only dream of capturing. But post cards don´t have dreams, silly human.

Our bus ride back was longer since we got stuck in some rush hour traffic. A little girl puked into her lap and onto the floor. She was sitting with her father, and in front of them was a German girl we had seen in the hippie village. She came and sat next to me, and we talked for the ride home. She was a nice girl and her name was Jessica. Her trip was to head into Salvador to make money selling some jewelry and such.

We got back to the hostel for beers and showers. I thought we would stay here all night to celebrate Jimmie´s birthday. I busted out all my pens and pencils and drew the group sitting down in what the hostel called their sacred space, no shoes allowed with cusions and a small table ideal for the hooka.

I was pulled off of Skype so we could walk to a local bar. Everything seemed closed. Just when we were about to give up and head back to the hostel some cops told us where to go just down the street. The large mass of tourists pulled tables and chairs out into the cobblestone street and had a large ration of beer. There were people from many different countries and I got the chance to talk with Phillip and Brice. They were both next to me and easy to hear. Dean, from New Zealand, talked with me from across the tables. This was a good exercise to really use my ears and cut out all the white noise and chatter around me.

Being that it was still sort of Jimmie´s birthday and the Austrians last night, we continued to celebrate once back to the hostel( Jimmie had retired hours before, but we had to keep celebrating in her name). The girls ordered tequila shots and vodka drinks. Dean opened too many beers. We ended up passing my book around and all drawing together which was a lot of fun. Apparently, everyone really needed some art time.

Johanna was able to wake me up as the sky was getting brighter. Josh couldn´t budge me, as all I would say was ´sleepin`and ´nope! sleepin´really quickly. Johanna put her hands on my throat and cheeks and said my name very softly. I opened my eyes wide and woke right up. The power of a woman is much greater than the power of a man. And because of this I slept in my own bed rather than the hostels sacred space. Z z z z z z