the first supper/first caipirinha

i finally ate a meal at a sit down restaurant. i went to this jamaican restaurant in a hotel called hotel quilombo de pelo. the restaurant is a small square room with seven square tables, many ceiling fans (thank the lord), and three floor-to-ceiling windows that open out onto Rua Alfredo de Brito right in the heart of Pelourinho (city center). i actually read about this place in an on-line article from Black Enterprise Magazine´s millenium issue. according to the article this is the only black owned hotel in Salvador, if not brazil.

the first thing i ordered was a caipirinha, which is the national brazilian drink made of cachaça (very, very strong liquor), sugar, and lime juice. i might have left something out. but this is a very good drink. very similar to a mojito. fresh, crisp, and to the point!

then i ordered a meal of jerk chicken, beans and rice, salad and fried plantains (a banana type fruit). while waiting for my meal the hotel owner was brought over by an assistant who is very eager for me to stay at the hotel (they only have three guests right now). his name is joe. joe. what can i say about joe. he is petite. however, he has significant presence. a very serious man that explains everything in life in relation to world history. however, when he laughs his 10 inch smile reveals large white teeth and his head bobbles side to side. and he stomps his right foot very hard to initiate the forthcoming bellow of laughter.

his first (of only two) question for me was "do you speak poruguese?" i answered a little. he went on to analogize language with a plant that is taken from it´s home country and placed in several different places around the world. as each plant grows you will have the same plant but it will take on unique characteristics based on the environment. so forth.

joe talked my head off for 2.5 hours. he even joined me for dinner. i offered him some of my food. but he reminded me that i was in his restaurant. he has plenty of food. just my type of guy. sike. lol.

joe gave me the lowdown on salvador. his version. he also told me that as a black american i have a duty to do more than come here to vacation and get my international freak on (as many people do). i have a duty to engage. uh. ok. we´ll see. i asked him what kinda engaging he is doing. lol. he said that he provides people with opportunity and encourages them. fair enough. i see his point.

the food was definately good. while practising my expert listening skills i silently savored the many tastes on my plate. sweet papaya. tender grilled chicken flavored with jerk seasoning (nutmeg, cinnamon, other stuff). i even noted the green pepper in my salad. given that i was positioned to be a sponge for joe´s rhetoric (read: bullshit), i failed to investigate the pepper further. i quickly assumed that it was a bell pepper. "yeah. we have bell peppers on our salads. why shouldn´t jamaicans in brazil?"

now i am suffering. what´s so bad about this pepper is that it has invisible heat. it doesn´t have a burning sensation. rather, it is a dull pain in my head. in my heart. my stomach. umph.

back to joe. joe is a catdaddy. this is a man whose manliness can woo many women notwithstanding his lack in size or good looks. the assistant that introduced us is so feeling joe. so are the kitchen staff, the other clerks, and this random black lady from america. eww! i had this feeling the whole time we ate dinner that we were being watched. like i was applying to be one of his new girls. they have absolutely nothing to worry about. i am a very smart and skeptical person.

the random black lady was very interesting to me. she has this chopped up way of speaking portuguese. she dined with this fine young man. i hope he is her son, but i think he´s her...ahem...boy toy. sigh. she referred to me as baby. joe referred to her as his "buddy". what.

being the asshole that i can be sometime, i mentioned to joe that i read an article about his hotel, but they really only mentioned his wife. oops. we hit a stumbling block. i dont know if the sister is dead or smart. but she isnt around any more. joe just said "she´s not here anymore" and closed his eyes for a nanosecond. hmm.

when i finally left hotel quilombo i told joe that i will call him this weekend to haggle with him over the price for the room. i think i have set him up pretty good. he knows i ain´t fooling. he informed me that he comes from a nation of hagglers. even so...i ain´t scurred!