Emerging

While speaking with a loved one recently, she reminded me of a Brazilian Portuguese idiom that put some things in perspective. She told me not to look back, because there's nothing that can be done about the decisions we've made in the past, and not to give up because there are so many things worth fighting for in the future. While hindsight is 20/20, it's a waste to mull over the details (unless you are writing a biography, or it's in your job description).

The saying goes like this:

"Quem anda para trás é caranguejo. Quem fica parado é poste. Quem evolui é ser humano."

Crabs walk backwards. Posts are stationary. Humans evolve.

I immediately thought of this little guy that I met on a beach in Fortaleza. It was the first crab that I've come across that not only didn't scurry away, but hunkered down and observed... me? (Cutest thing ever!)

This expression also brought to mind that thing that I like to do on the beach, where I get just within reach of the retreating waves as they are pulled back to sea. I like to stand there in the shifting sand, seeing how far I can burrow down with each wave, becoming a human post. It's pretty easy to keep your balance until you're about mid-calf down, and a really big wave comes in. That's usually when I realize I'm stuck, and hope an even bigger one isn't right behind. Risky business. I suppose I've been guilty of this type of behavior in other arenas, as well. Hmm...

Then I remembered this commercial by Fiat. I guess the beach brings out the philosopher in all of us (or it's just a really good backdrop for marketing), or something.

The commercial shows a dog walker who tells himself that he should have been an executive, looking at an exec, who is at what appears to be an impressive lunch meeting. The executive, catching a glimpse of the seemingly glamorous life of a famous band, sighs and laments that he should have been a rock star. Later, in his tour bus, the rock star passes a beach and yearns for the more laid-back lifestyle of a lifeguard. The lifeguard, feeling overwhelmed, wishes that he had been born a crab. The crab just laughs, and says that he can't stand walking sideways anymore.  The announcer says, "Sometimes we just want to leave it all behind."


The grass is always greener on the other side even on the beach.

(...or maybe that's just us.)

OFL - Onomatopoeia as a Foreign Language

As an adult, I came to realize that not everyone grew up in an onomatopoeically and ideophonically inclined household. It was only after the 20th comment, or so, by a random stranger that I noticed not everyone's O.I. vocabulary is quite as, um, "developed."

Okay, okay... I use weird sound effects in place of regular words sometimes.

Onomatopoeias and ideophones are words that phonetically imitate the sound of something that we otherwise wouldn't have a word for. They may eventually reach the point that they're officially recognized words which is how oink, swoosh, bam, and meow came into being. These kinds of words are vital to the comic book industry.

The need for onomatopoeic and ideophonic words is universal, as most languages incorporate a handful into the language. There are those that argue this is how some languages developed at a base level.

One might think that this shared phenomenon could be used as a bridge to cross language barriers, but strangely enough, that is most often not the case. Whatever language we speak and whatever sounds we are accustomed to hearing, directly influences our perception of other sounds.

To see some interesting differences in how we hear animal sounds in different languages, check out this video. I found it intriguing that every language featured, with the exception of Japanese, does hear a version of "Meow."

Bow Wow Meow - Animal Sounds in Different Languages from properniceinnit on Vimeo.

The differing perceptions of everyday sounds is why I feel so strongly that the absolute first step to getting a grasp on any language is to learn the sounds of the language.

For example:

I used to be unable to correctly hear the name of one of the doormen at my apartment in Goiânia — a guy that I depended on for my safety & security. Not only did I need to get to know him, but I needed him to get to know me (which isn't always easy when there's a language barrier). ...but I couldn't even understand his name, much less say it.

So I tried.

...and tried.

I must have asked him to repeat his name about a dozen times, before I finally asked him how to spell it. And after this experience, I no longer hesitate to ask how to spell anything.

Why didn't I ask him in the first place?

Someone (giver of unending bad adaptation/assimilation advice) had told me that I "shouldn't ask people how to spell their names because they'd think it was weird."

I think that meeting someone regularly, and never being able to say their name is more weird, personally.

I also think that they only said that because they thought it was embarrassing, for some reason. Or maybe I seemed too nerdy with my pen & mini spiral that I could whip out at a moment's notice. Whatever the reasoning, it was bad advice, and as soon as I ignored it the doors to understanding opened up.

Prior to getting the correct spelling so that I could sound it out, it went something like:

Me: "I'm sorry, what is your name, again?"
Him: "Jblblbz%tuiblblblblϟgkblblblo@iwblblblber." (...or something?)
Me: "Oh... Okay. Thanks!" (not getting it, at all)

So when I finally asked him to spell it, it went like this:

Me: "I'm sorry, but could you spell your name for me? It's hard for me to understand because Portuguese is my second language."
Him: "Sure. It's J-U-R-A-N-D-I-R."
Me: "Oh, 'Zhuuur-rdahhhhn-zheer'"
Him: "Yes. That's it." (probably thinking, "Finally!")
Me: "Okay, great, Jurandir! Thank you!" (thinking, "Wow, that was easy ...and I'll never have to ask again!")

Although knowing the sounds of a language makes it easier to understand how another culture hears the world, homegrown sounds that you may have taken for granted to fall back on (if your language isn't up to par) may not help you out as much as you think they will.

For instance, there is very basic and simple onomatopoeic sound that is identical in both English & Portuguese, that is in no way related to the other.

The same clicking sound made with the tongue, used for getting a horse to "giddyap" in the United States, is used in Brazil as a big fat "negatory," or "não." They are not telling you to get along, little dogie, they are just saying no, without an actual word.

(To enlarge, right-click and open in a new window.)

Then there's this classic.

The first time you're in a place where you are supposed to be quiet, but are needing to get the attention of someone, you might think that the good ol' fashioned, "Psssssssst!" will suffice in getting someone's attention.

Uh, not in Brazil.

It honestly perplexed me when I found out how similar (to me, anyway) the Brazilian Portuguese version is to the "Psssssst" I was using (because I didn't know how the other one went, yet).

It was like everyone had on Pssssst-cancelling headphones.

When I later discovered that the way to do it in Brazil is "Psiu" (pronounced: "P-see-you") I just couldn't believe that no one got my American English version.

Really?!? No one thought that I might be discreetly trying to get their attention? Huh.

Speaking of classics, it reminded me of this comic by Gary Larson, creator of The Far Side.

So now ya know, and we all know that is half the battle.

Psiu! Pass it on!

Sunset ~ Serra da Mesa

It's been too long...

(To enlarge, right-click and open in a new window.)


Serra da Mesa

Hoatzin: Here's A 'Do

The Hoatzin aka Jacu-cigano (pronounced “Zhah-koo See-GAHN-oh) [literally translated "Gypsy Guan"] is one of the most interesting birds that I've had the pleasure of encountering in my adventures around Goiás.

July means following the tradition of camping on an island in the Araguaia River Basin. When I had the opportunity to explore the more secluded areas of the surrounding waterways, I repeatedly heard what sounded like a group of angry monkeys within the forest. Turns out, it wasn't anything of the sort. It was the very vocal Hoatzin.

As we puttered down the winding canals through low-hanging branches of native plants and overgrown foliage, we were almost always ambushed at some point, by a group of Hoatzins fleeing from... us.

It was funny, because we wouldn't even be aware of their presence until they burst out of the brush, right over the boat. They would strategically wait until we were about two yards (or meters) away from wherever they were hiding, and about a dozen would burst out of the trees, screaming and flapping like crazy.

They could have just as easily remained hidden in their natural camouflage, and we never would've known they were there. Fellow campers noted that we were lucky that they weren't a bigger, fuzzier, fangier creature such as a Jaguar aka Onça (pronounced: OWN-suh). True, but that would have made a far more awesome set of pics.

I suspect that all the screaming is to momentarily catch a predator off-guard so there's no time to pursue them. (It's kinda hard to give chase mid-heart attack.) The Hoatzin is said to be a distant relative of the cuckoo which seems fitting, since they seem to be a little on the crazy side.

Hoatzins are hands down the kookiest birds I've been around, and from what I understand, they have a certain odor that has earned them the nickname "Stinkbird" in English. I'm assuming I was always upwind, so I cannot attest to their fragrance.

I can confirm their strange beauty, though. They have a periwinkle blue face, maroon eyes, wings of alternating earth tones, and a 'Do that reminds me of a certain famous Brazilian soccer star, Neymar (pronounced: "NAY-mar"). We affectionately nicknamed the birds as such.

All photos of Neymar found on Google

Regrettably, I was unable to get any clear shots due to the settings of my camera, and the effective evasive maneuvers (rapid retreat) by the subjects. Below are the precious few glimpses I did manage to catch of these fantastic feathered fugitives.

This is one of the many species allegedly found only in the Amazonian Basin further north, according to Wikipedia sources. However, I've personally been able to document several species of creatures that are "officially" off the Grid, and call the Araguaia River home. I guess we could call it the Incognito Cigano.

(To enlarge pictures, right-click and open in a new window.)

October Rain?

This region really only has two seasons, although each of these seasons has a hot and a cool side to it.

Clear Skies in July Along the Araguaia River

The dry season typically runs from April through October, though it can come early and/or stay late. Without the buffer of rain clouds, temperatures usually soar to about 100°F, with a short respite in May and/or June. These cooler months bring welcomed temperatures that can get as low as 50°F at night, with highs in the 70s during the day.

Within a month or two of the rainy season coming to an end, the region is a veritable dust bowl. Even if there is a cool breeze at some point during the day, people think twice about opening their windows (in a place where few homes have air conditioning). The fertile earth here is a fine red clay that travels easily on the wind, and coats everything in a powdery film. During these months, a very definite red haze hangs over the skyline.

The rainy season is sweet relief for housekeepers who have battled against the seemingly never-ending layer of red dust, as well as for those suffering from cracked and bleeding sinuses. Of course, the next few months of steady rain produce another irritant: mold. Aside from the mold, the rain is welcomed with open umbrellas.

October Rains in the Goiás Countryside

The rainy season can start as early as October, or as late as December, and normally continues through mid March. In the first month or so, temperatures dip slightly and last only for the duration of the showers, climbing back up to Sweltering in the humid aftermath. Depending on how heavy the rains are, and how much rainfall there is during the next few months, the rains start to have a cooling effect. The more rain received, the cooler it gets.

For personal optimum cooling effect, I have renounced umbrellas. I stay cool and... damp. While that is generally considered uncivilized for a woman [around these parts, especially, since most women get a weekly blowout that would be ruined if exposed to water], I'm willing to go to great lengths (such as "window shopping" inside high-end shops where I won't actually buy anything since I'm really only there for the AC) and resort to "lazy" practices (like "ignoring" — not hiding from the rain) to lower my body temperature. It's an ongoing battle in a place where air conditioning is a privilege. I've even considered buying a cooling vest, but that would probably make me stand out even more than walking in the rain.

"Hiding" from rain seems to be a cultural thing. I've received countless strange looks, been the subject of mumbling observations, and even audibly chided when I walk and don't run for cover, as it starts to rain. I usually laugh and tell people that while I may be sweet, I'm not made of sugar, so I won't melt. No one ever thinks this is funny. This is serious! There are various old wives' tales that allude to Death by Damp Hair — and this doesn't only apply to the women. Sometimes, we Americans are really surprised at how things can grind to a halt if it starts to sprinkle.

A fellow Texan and friend of mine was working on a construction project near the end of the dry season. It was hotter than Hades. While on a delivery of supplies to the site one day, it started sprinkling. The workers couldn't be coaxed out to finish unloading the truck until it stopped. We thought this would have been a relished opportunity for the hot and dusty workers to cool off, but they claimed that they would risk their health (in the warm drops of rain) if their heads were to get wet. My friend ended up unloading the rest of the supplies by himself. To us, this seemed quite bizarre. To the workers, my friend was a reckless risk taker.

Image found here.

I suspect this fear of rain stems from the heavy dew or sereno [pronounced: "seh-rdeh-no"] that falls at night in the countryside, where it tends to be cooler. I thought that this was all hype, like the rain superstitions, but the amount of dew that falls in this tropical region is impressive by any standard. Any uncovered surface will have small pools of standing water, within a matter of hours. If you are breathing it in, or if you get a wet head and it is cool outside, then it can cause a cold. Here, stargazing requires a hat... and some sleeves.

What about your region of the world? Are there any old wives' tales about rain? Do tell.

To enlarge pics, right-click and open in a new window.

Some Things Don't Translate

...in this case I'm referring to good prices, and a certain slogan that assures me I can have things my way. Perhaps that is old school. Have things changed that much in six years? Then again, it could just be good ol' fashioned highway robbery. You be the judge.

Living in a place where you are hard-pressed to find home flavors can drive people to certain lengths (as I alluded to in my previous post). In my case, it drives me to occasionally eating fast food — fast food that is considered chic in a place where it isn't all that common. This can come with a hefty price tag, depending on where you go. On those days where I'd give a portion of my left pinky to taste something reminiscent of home, I think it's worth it.

On those days where I see a blatant disregard for the fact that the minimum monthly wage here is R$600, and someone is trying to charge people R$8.50 for less than (when you factor in ice — I measured it) a 10 oz cup of watered down soda [when you can by a 2.5 liter of coke for R$5-6 at any convenience store] ...I get peeved.

At first, I attributed it to some foreign company that doesn't have a clue about the cost of living here. ...but that can't be right, can it? Of course, how could anyone living here also live with their conscience, if they know that this is grossly overcharging people for a drink [thereby excluding a large portion of the population]? I know I couldn't do it.

All I know is that THIS is not right:

What's wrong with this picture? (Other than the gum that I wadded into this receipt out of disgust before deciding to rant online about it. Sorry about that!)

Please right-click and open in a new window to enlarge.

So if it was that expensive... why did I pay for it, and not stop by a convenience store?

Three reasons:

1. I mistakenly heard a different total (trusty drive-thru intercoms), otherwise I would have amended it before I rounded the building, where my drink was already sticking out of the window. You see, they weren't finished making my burger, and I didn't want any extra "secret" ingredient.


2. Unlike my hometown, convenience stores aren't all that easy to find, and with all of the one way streets in this town, it is actually anything but convenient. I thought about calling them not-quite-convenience stores, but that has a somewhat negative ring to it.


3. I was starving, thirsty, and exhausted enough to not want to walk any extra step that I absosmurfly did not have to.

Although flagrant price gouging could be the norm for the other international fast food chains that are starting to pop up here, the prices are typically much, much less. I'm assuming that's because they want to achieve some measure of succe$$ with the population as a whole.

This is by far the worst case I've seen, yet. Other competitors such as McDonald's and Subway charge less than half of what was charged here (for the same size drink) making it a more affordable option for the masses.

I hope that the powers that be somewhere see this, and reign in their overcharging minions. I suspect they will see an increase in revenue, as more of the everyday people will be able to afford it.

I also suspect that they will need to invest in marketing that informs people that the idea of having a meal here is now more realistic for the average João.

Here's an Idea of Who We'll See...

A trio of Roseate Spoonbills...




In Portuguese it's called a duck,
but in English it's known as an Orinoco Goose...




I'll show you the close-ups later...
See how big the Jaburus are compared to the boat?
That's a Black Skimmer passing by.




Bathing beauties...
A group of Saffron Finches...




A Burrowing Owl...




The ever-elusive Hoatzin, or "Neymar" as I like to call them...
(Just google "Neymar hairstyles" and you'll see why.)




A rare glimpse of the Great Black Hawk...




This little fish is known as the "Peixe-agulha," or Needlefish,
though it doesn't appear to have teeth like others by that name.
The ones I've seen are about 5 inches long.



I see you lookin' at me, lookin' at you...




Freshwater stingrays are everywhere.

FYI: When entering the river, you must shuffle your feet to avoid stepping on a stingray & getting a spike through your calf or foot.

I wonder who we'll see this year? Hopefully, I will be able to get a little closer to some of the more standoffish storks & herons. I still haven't seen a puma, although I did get some shots of its tracks through our camp on the first night of our last camping trip. (What a rush!)

I also finally captured a few shots of a freshwater dolphin last year, but they were only of a flipper! It looked like the boto was waving at me. I realized that they don't only toy with fishermen, but the paparazzi, as well. I will try my best to get a better pic this year.

It looks like this will be the last post until the third week of July. Feel free to explore the archives to see if there is something you missed. Comments won't show up right away, since they will only be moderated when I return. For those of you in the U-S-of-A, I hope you have a great & safe 4th!

See you soon!

To enlarge pics, right-click & open in a new window.

Here's a Glimpse of Where We'll Be...

Here are some shots of our trips from the past few years.



Sunrise...

That structure is where they clean the fish that are caught.



All decked out:
complete with an antenna for cell phone,
and a dish for TV signals...



A place to beat the midday heat...



To avoid having everything melt inside a tent,
a thatched hut structure keeps things cool.
It was built according to the path of the sun...



Sunset:
The time to dive into your tent
to avoid the swarms of mosquitoes...



The bright green structure is a bathroom with two separate
entrances: one side is the shower, the other is the toilet.
A sink & mirror are on the outer wall behind the shower.

The thatched structure to the far right houses the generators.

The large thatched structure in the middle is a TV room, adjacent
to the kitchen which is complete with a fridge, freezer, and oven...



A scene from the area...



Everything's bigger near Araguaia!
Moon rising @ 5:30 in the afternoon...




Tomorrow: Who We'll See...

To enlarge pics, right-click & open in a new window.

Possible Yeti Sighting in Brazil

Crazy Cliff-Jumping Yetis, Batman!

What is that?

While I can neither confirm or deny that this is indeed a yeti, it must be noted that yetis need vacations, too. This one was spotted in 2007, in the trippy region of Chapada dos Veadeiros that, according to NASA, is the brightest place on earth [as seen from space] due to the tons of crystals in that area. That is the only explanation for the quality of this picture (unless the yeti had some sort of camera-deflecting force field).

On the other hand, this pic would seem to back up the Portuguese Chapadas wikipedia page that states that this is the best place in the state to see unidentified flying objects.

It could go both ways.

I guess we'll never know...

Batman Comic Generator found here.

Pantanal, My Husband's Other Love

My man did some recon work for me on his recent fishing trip. He went to the state of Mato Grosso to fish in the area known as "Pantanal." Pantanal [pronounced: "pahn-tah-nahl"] is a tropical wetland — the largest of its kind. Think The Everglades ...only larger and more tropical.



Transpantaneira [pronounced: (nasally) "trahnz-pahn-tah-nay-rduh"] is a famous road that runs through this portion of Pantanal, from the town of Poconé to Porto Jofre, on the Cuiabá River. It is known for the 122 bridges made of wooden planks. My husband stopped to take a picture of the starting point. You'll notice that the signs are in English and Portuguese. This is because Pantanal is a popular fishing destination for Europeans.

To enlarge pics, right-click & open in a new window.

Pantanal is teeming with wildlife. Capivaras [pronounced: "cah-pee-vah-rdahz"] (capybaras) and jacarés [pronounced: "jah-kah-rdayz"] (alligators) are everywhere. So are the rest of the 1,000 bird species, 400 fish species, 300 mammalian species, 480 reptile species, and over 9,000 different subspecies of invertebrates.

My guy said that there are so many capivaras that they lie in groups in the road, oblivious to vehicles trying to pass. They are apparently more stubborn than a herd of cows — or more carefree. Before you think that is because cows tend to have a certain fate, apparently so do the largest rodents in the world. People eat them, as well. A friend actually had some capivara meatballs when he first arrived in Brazil. He said that he ate the dish before he knew which meat it was.

I haven't had the "pleasure."




I think the capivaras are too cute to eat — especially in the pictures that my man snapped. This series of pictures had me grinning when I saw just how close the truck came to these lounging furballs ...but the final one of nothing but skin and shafts of hair, caught when he simply stuck his arm outside of the window, cracked me up. They really were that close.








My guy knows how much I love wildlife, so he promised to take me back with him on the next trip. I can't wait! I'll be able to get up close & personal with the many different creatures that call this region home.

Incidentally, we will be leaving in a week to camp along the Araguaia River, among the creatures from that region. This year's trip will be almost 3 weeks long, so I will not be posting or moderating comments from June 26th through July 14th.

When we return I will hopefully have tons of photos of creatures to show and tell. I am determined to get good footage of the freshwater dolphins this year — like every other year! We (meaning me & my partner in hijinx: my nephew) are also planning on filming the sequel to The Araguaia Monster (O Monstro do Araguaia) featuring my nephew in the title role.

Graffiti in Goiânia - Cultural Icons

Graffiti is a telling glimpse into the youth culture. Here in Goiânia, there has been a surge in wall murals that are tributes to actors and singers. As entertainment becomes ever more globalized, the art depicting Brazilian artists is becoming noticeably outnumbered by that of international artists.

I ran across what appears to be a rendition of Marcelo Falcão, the lead singer of the Brazilian reggae/rock band named O Rappa [pronounced: "Oh Rah-pah"]. (At least, that's who the fogies I asked believe it is...) This mural is found on a stretch of road in the southwest neighborhood of Parque Anhangüera II.

O Rappa's song, "A Minha Alma," ("My Soul") is my favorite!

Check it out for yourself...




To enlarge pic, right-click and open in a new window.

This Little Piggy Went To The Market

Here's something we don't see every day back home: an open-air butcher shop.


I'm still trying to get a shot of the truck that makes the rounds of the closing butcher shops on Saturday afternoons. It is loaded with all of the discarded bones (including residual hunks of meat, still attached to the bone) that are sent to be ground into feed for...

...wait for it...

...cattle.

I've asked a few of the ranchers I know here if that's not how Mad Cow Disease started, but received no real answers. When I know, you'll know. Or, if you have any insight into this practice, please share in the comment section below.

(To enlarge pic, right-click and open in a new window.)

I Heart Palm Hearts

The palm heart is a staple in Brazilian cuisine. It is added to a variety of dishes, and is even a popular pizza topping. Up until yesterday, I thought that I'd seen every way to eat it: on pizza, in salads, in stroganoff, on a veggie tray... the list is endless. However, I'd never seen it prepared in the trunk, on the grill. It was awesome!

There are three main varieties that are used in this region. The hearts of the açaí, pupunha, and guariroba palm trees are the most common types of palm hearts found here in the Central-West ("centro-oeste") region of Brazil.

The heart of the açaí [pronounced: "ah-sigh-ee"] palm is the most popular. It is sold canned & preserved, and is used for most dishes that call for palm hearts or "palmito" [pronounced "pawl-mee-toe"]. The name "açaí" comes the native Tupi language, and means "the fruit that cries."

Açaí, the most common palm heart available in Brazil.

You may be familiar with the fruit of the açaí palm, which was recently touted as a miracle weight loss fruit in the U.S. (which it is most definitely not). The fruit is commonly known in Brazil as a fruit high in calories, which gave people here a good chuckle, after they heard how it was being promoted for weight loss elsewhere. It's along the same lines as in the movie Mean Girls, when Cady turns Regina on to the secret "weight loss" bars... {*wink, wink*}

The pupunha [pronounced: "poo-poo-nyuh"] palm is the only type of palm heart that is grilled while still in the trunk, or stem. The name originated in the Tupi language, but the meaning is unknown.

Pupunha palm heart fresh off the grill.

After grilling it, the stem is split, and the now soft heart is seasoned with a little butter and salt. Words cannot describe how good it is. It has an almost nutty flavor that, combined with butter, is irresistible. (Yum-yum-yummy!) It wasn't just me. Last night, after tasting the first one, our normally reserved and well-mannered group suddenly resembled the seagulls in Finding Nemo: "Mine, mine, mine..." There were all sorts of claims to the rights of the last piece, but in the end, the birthday boy had the final say.

Sorry, it's a little dark! The flash wasn't cooperating on this one.

The guariroba [pronounced: "goo-wah-rdee-rdoh-buh"] palm is considered the "palmito of the Cerrado," [pronounced: "seh-hah-doh"] which is the tropical savannah ecoregion that encompasses the Centro-West region of Brazil. Guariroba is grown in the states of Goiás, Mato Grosso, Mato Grosso do Sul, Minas Gerais, Tocantins, and in the nation's capital, the Federal District.

Like açaí and pupunha, the name guariroba originated in the Tupi language, and means "the bitter one." Guariroba is quite bitter, and the heart is typically served a bit bigger. I'm guessing that it has to mature longer, as young or "still green" fruits and plants tend to be more bitter than at ideal maturity. Too young, I'd imagine it would be too bitter to eat ― bitter beer face would have nothing on the bitter Guariroba face.

The increasing demand for Guariroba in other regions of Brazil has become, like anything with short supply & high demand, something that people are willing to obtain illegally. Here is a photo from the Federal Police in Minas Gerais, who seized 9 trunks of illegally harvested Guariroba palms.

According to the Portuguese Wikipedia page on palm hearts there is an additional type of palm heart that is harvested from the "Palmeira Real," or "Real Palm Tree." I've asked around, and no one in this region has heard of this palm tree being used for this purpose.

Are there other types of palm hearts that you are aware of in other regions of Brazil, or elsewhere? Let us know in the comments!

For more images of palm hearts, go to the Brazilian Google site (www.google.com.br) and do a Google Image (Imagens) search for "palmito."

To enlarge pics, right-click and open in a new window.