Salvador: Poodles, gods, and wishes

Salvador is a coastal city in the state of Bahia (ba-EE-a), Brazil's Afro-centered area.  The area was settled by Portugal, prospering more quickly than the colonies in North America, and it reaped its early wealth through sugar cane. As their plantations grew, the Portuguese planters jumped into the slave trade; almost five million African slaves were taken to Brazil by the mid-19th century. Today, 80% of Salvador's two million residents are of Afro-Brazilian descent, and this is reflected in the food, music, religion, and faces of Salvador. More than a million people head to the streets of Salvador for Carnaval each year.In Salvador I felt quite privileged. Mariana's father-in-law, Fabricio Sr., picked me up from the airport (we drove through a beautiful, dense tunnel of bamboo that arched from both sides and connected at a soft point like the walls of a small cathedral), and I had my own room and bathroom in his two-story penthouse that had a spiral staircase, a rooftop pool, and a view of the ocean. Among the best parts: there are no screens on the windows, and no bugs. Fabricio headed out after dropping me at his home, and my interest in walking to the beach drew an interesting response from Iris (EE-deesh), his housekeeper and cook, and Carol, Iris's 18-year-old daughter. They were concerned that it was threatening rain, and they didn't seem to be persuaded by my rain jacket or my lack of concern about getting wet. What was more perplexing to me was their worry that I really couldn't find my way to the beach, and if I did, that I would be lucky if I found my way back. (Below is a photo of the view from the penthouse, to give you a sense of what I was taking on.) I finally convinced them that I could do it. (Which I did, but became hyper-focused on my location, thinking maybe it was somehow harder than it looked!) Night was setting in, the clouds were low and ominous, and the waves were rough--starting to break probably 500 meters off-shore. The beach was empty save for a few stalwart fishermen, the tropical water was warm, and it was beautiful.
My first full day in Salvador Fabricio put his driver, Luis, at my disposal, and we mostly walked through the more historic part of Salvador, including Pelourinho, a plaza where I got to see capoeira - the Brazilian mix of martial art and dance - and Mercato Modelo, a giant market of Brazilian souvenirs. I was sad to miss hearing the famous drumming group, Olodum, whose public practices are on Sunday afternoons.Pelourinho - named for the whipping post that used to reside here during times of slaveryCapoeiraAll sorts of things are available at the Mercato ModeloThe next day I took a day without my camera and embarked on a three-mile roundtrip visit to a swimming beach. I didn't end up going in very far at all, the waves were still quite rough and the beach steep.In Fabricio's home I was able to try much of the local cuisine, made by Iris. One night we sat in the glassed-in rooftop room as we poked away at a variety of dishes typical of Salvador, foods that the people of Afro-Brazilian descent created from what they could harvest - mashed-up beans, coconuts, and yellow oil (a thick, strongly flavored palm oil) - and leftovers from the higher socioeconomic classes. Fabricio also made me a delicious capirinha, Brazil's national cocktail made from lime, sugar or honey, and cachaça (sugar cane hard liquor, Brazil's most commonly distilled alcohol). 
In Fabricio's home I also was treated to frequent attention from his delightful poodles: Doly, 16, in red; Doly's daughter July (pronounced "Julie" with a soft j), 12, in blue; and the sprite Toby, 4. 
A quick browse of Trip Advisor's top 20 cultural attractions in Salvador yields 11 churches and four forts. Luis, Carol, and Iris took me to Salvador's most famous church, the Church of Nosso Senhor do Bonfim, which is reputed to grant miracles. The gates are covered in colorful fitas, ribbons that people tie onto the bars for good luck. (A fita also grants luck if you tie it to your wrist with three knots.) The church includes a Room of Miracles that houses valuable objects that people have given in thanks for their granted miracles, and an odd assortment of hands, arms, and legs (made of wood, plastic, and even gold) hang with a bit of macabre from the ceiling. Bonfim is important to the Candomblé religion, the roots of which are in Salvador, but it is practiced throughout Brazil. Slaves brought from West Africa believed in a number of gods and goddesses (Orixás) who hold natural forces such as fire, storm, ocean, and wind and who have their own rituals, colors, habits, and days of the week that they are worshipped. Candomblé was prohibited in Catholic Brazil, and slaves were forced to convert to Catholicism (though of course they weren't allowed inside churches). Slaves began to recognize characteristics of their Orixás in some of the Catholic saints. They began to translate each of their gods into a similar saint, and in this way they were able to continue their native worship under the guise of Catholicism. In the process, however, the religion morphed and became uniquely Brazilian. Oxalá, the Orixá creator and supreme ruler, became the Senhor do Bonfim, which is honored by the church mentioned above.Me tying my own wishMy last night in Salvador I watched the last 15 minutes of a boys' handball game - interesting sport, not quite what I expected. Sort of a cross between basketball (you carry and bounce and throw the ball) and soccer (there's a soccer-like net and guard) - it includes interesting leaps and winding arms. We then headed out for Chinese food, and as one might expect, it was different from American Chinese. I was served a large eggroll-looking item filled with cheese! I've also been treated to bits of dubbed and subtitled television. Ironically I couldn't understand the ending of a Keanu Reeves movie featuring American football because it was dubbed, but this morning we were all able to laugh at Two-and-a-Half Men and Big Bang Theory together because they had Portuguese subtitles. Save tomorrow morning in Manaus, I can say I have survived the muggers, police, and traffic of Brazil, and now I'm off to what might be the country's safer bet: the Amazon. Watch me emerge unscathed and get bit by a rabid squirrel in Manaus.