I thought the crowd of visitors would wake me up this morning but no, it was still quiet except 1 snack stand and 1 drink stand had built up their business right at the river. That was kind of a sign that at some point during the day the crowd would be coming. I wanted to await the crowd and so I prepared myself for the crowd, I relaxed in my hammock. I enjoyed my hammock, I enjoyed the wind that made my hammock swing, I enjoyed the shade that the trees offered my hammock and I enjoyed ice cold Coca Cola from the restaurant. The ‘Senhora’ reminded me to be punctual; lunch will be served at 12:00 hours on time.

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The crowd still had not come and I wanted to be an educated Gringo, walked to the restaurant, and sat down at one of the tables. Difficult choice, all tables were still empty. I understood now that the restaurant had the name ‘restaurant’ but did not function as a restaurant, did not serve lunch or dinner. The restaurant was a bar and would get crowded later in the afternoon and in the evening, when the mob wants to get drunk and forget about Monday, forget about work and responsibilities, forget about marriage and children, forget about education and ethics; get drunk at all cost, get drunk and pretend, get drunk and forget.

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The son decorated my table and brought me another Coca Cola. I had the privilege to eat a share, a portion of the homemade lunch that the ‘Senhora’ had prepared for her family, for herself, her husband and her son. The ‘Senhora’ came with 2 bowls, 1 big bowl with rice and another even bigger bowl with mandioca, vegetables and meat, perfectly cooked in the oven with olive oil and the typical herbs and bedded in a clear delicious gravy. My stomach had to be well again, he had not complained yesterday and he did not complain today. My finance did not complain either, with 10 Reales the ‘Senhora’ asked only what she probably had spent. Thank you very much ‘Senhora’.

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The beach got more crowded in the afternoon but the bar of the ‘Senhora’ did not. With beginning of the sunset, the picture changed completely, the beach got empty again and the bar of the ‘Senhora’ became the hotspot of the mob. The bar was the place to be on a Sunday evening, for the mob from the neighborhood, for the mob from the favelas, for the mob who had a car with a sound system louder than the bar and for the mob who had a moto with an exhaust even louder than the sound systems of the cars.

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The ‘Senhora’ had to employ security still the local police preferred as well to come for several visits. Everybody wanted to listen to the performance of the live singer who gave his best to sing the 150 most sung songs of Brazil. Brazil is a nation of singers and everybody from the age of 2 to the age of 102 knows all of the 150 most sung songs of the Brazil, word by word.

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First, I had been curious about the Sunday; now that I was surrounded by a drunken, singing and dancing mob, I could not await the end. Today I had to pay the price for almost a week of complete silence, of complete tranquility, of pure nature, of a refreshing river and a sandy beach, of peace and harmony.

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Everything in life has an end and so did the Sunday evening mob party, at 22:00 hours the silence was back, complete tranquility was back, peace and harmony was back. I had been waiting in my hammock between my trees and now was time to relax again and take a Paracetamol for the night. The fever was coming back, I still had the virus and I had to continue with my treatment, one more night, maybe the last night. Tomorrow was a big day for me and for my friend the car.

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