Precerpt from In with the Wind: A Mary Poppins Kind of Life - Brazil: Belem

Belem

Belem is probably one of the lesser known cities of Brazil, but it is definitely one of my favorites. A major Amazonian port city shaped by its rivers, equatorial climate, and deep colonial roots, Belém sits on Guajará Bay near the mouth of the Amazon system, about 80 miles up the Pará River from the Atlantic, giving it a landscape defined by tidal waters, mangroves, and constant river traffic. Founded in 1616 as a Portuguese fort, it grew into the first European colony on the Amazon and later became a thriving hub during the 19th‑century rubber boom. Today the city blends colonial architecture, tree‑lined squares, and modern districts. Its port remains the principal gateway for goods flowing from the Amazon basin, exporting products such as Brazil nuts, hardwoods, and metals. With its equatorial climate—hot, humid, and marked by heavy rainfall—Belém’s daily life is inseparable from the river: markets brim with Amazonian fish and fruits, boats move as readily as buses, and the city’s cultural identity reflects centuries of Indigenous, Portuguese, African, and migrant influences. (Wikipedia, Brittanic.com)

The Amazon River near Belém always felt less like a river and more like a presence—an expanse of wide, brown (sediment-rich) water moving with such unhurried confidence that you could almost miss the sheer force beneath its surface. It spread out like a shallow breath, slow‑flowing and opaque, carrying the silt and stories of thousands of miles before emptying itself into the great, tidal bay that blurs the line between river and sea. Nothing about it was clear in the way mountain rivers are clear; instead, it held the color of earth and distance, a reminder that the Amazon is not a single channel but a whole system arriving at the edge of the Atlantic, broad and quiet and impossibly vast. Of course, I had to slip my hand into it, just to say that, for a second or two, I had been one with the Amazon.

The person I worked most closely with in Belem, Silvana, is a friend still all of 30 years later. From her, I learned many useful things.

For example, one makes appointments not for a particular hour but for the length of time after the rain, as in “come to my office 30 minutes after the rain.” The rain is like clockwork; it comes pretty much at the same time every afternoon—and you cannot miss it.

“I forgot to bring an umbrella,” I told Silvana when she mentioned the rain.

She laughed, “You can’t use one.”

Soon, I understood why. The rain sneaks up without warning, except that everyone knows it is coming “soon,” and instantly drenches everything. It stops everyone in their tracks. Life simply ceases to move while the rain splays center stage. Indeed, no umbrella could protect from such a deluge.

Then, as quickly as it started, it stops. And activities start.

Rain like this defines equatorial climates where Belem finds itself. So does heat and humidity. Belem was hot and wet, not just from the rain. Silvana told me that there is a joke that birds fly on their backs there. They use one wing to fly and the other to fan themselves.

Birdsong brought the rainforest so alive with birdsong that it felt like the air itself was moving, yet held beneath a canopy so dense it became its own kind of sky. Sometimes sixty to a hundred feet above the ground, it trapped sound in a way that made the forest feel both enclosed and echoing. I remember bright tanagers, macaws, parrots, trogons, jacamars, hummingbirds that stayed high in that upper world, flashing color between leaves but rarely descending. The result is a rainforest full of birds you can hear everywhere, but only glimpse in quick, jeweled movements because the canopy holds them in its green architecture. It creates that paradoxical feeling: a place overflowing with life, yet visually hidden, as if the forest decides what you’re allowed to see.

Berries, too, hold a vivid place in my memory. I sort of remember being told that there were 63 different kinds of berries in the region, but who knows for sure. References indicate numbers like 50-100. So, 63? Maybe not that far off. Of the berries, of course, guarana dominated the food scene. Not only the berry,  but the drink made from it. The Brazilian coca-cola. I still search out guarana (the drink) here in California—and yes, I can find it. Sometimes, I just get such a hankering for it that I want to believe the local myth that something addictive is added to those drinks!

Guaraná always carried a little cloud of rumor around it, the kind of story that grows naturally in a place where plants have personalities and drinks have histories older than the city selling them. People would whisper that the soda had “something added” to keep you coming back, but the truth was simpler and more interesting: the guaraná berry itself is packed with natural stimulants—caffeine, theobromine, theophylline—that give a smooth, bright lift without the harsh edge of coffee. Add sugar, carbonation, and the Amazonian mystique, and the effect feels uncanny enough that a myth becomes almost inevitable. The drink didn’t need anything extra; the plant already had its own kind of enchantment, and people mistook that for a secret ingredient.

The other berry I fell in love with was acai, unknown in the USA at the time but well known now. Still, we only use it in drinks. The Brazilians are much more inventive. I especially loved acai ice cream. Oh, to find such a cone here in California! Maybe one day…

Of course, I had work to do while in Belem, as I did in every city I traveled to in Brazil. In fact, other than learning about the places because I lived in them, I did little touring during my Mary Poppins assignments.

As in other places, my old “baraban” (drum) beat to the tune: individualize, every learner has his/her own strengths, weaknesses, and needs. Only when a teacher knows what those are will learning become efficient and effective. I loved this group of teachers; they understood that.

From the forthcoming book:

In with the East Wind...A Mary Poppins Kind of Life

Volume 1: ABC Lands

by Dr. Betty Lou Leaver

For more posts about and from this book, click HERE.

For more posts by and about Betty Lou Leaver, click HERE.

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