Bishop’s first letter to Grace in 1957 was written on 10
January, in response to a “lovely long letter” from her aunt, “writen [sic] in the middle of the night.” The
68-year old Grace was back nursing somewhere in the US and doing night shifts. Bishop
picked up this letter on the way to Rio,
“early Monday morning,” so she “read it out loud to Lota en route.”
Bishop always asserted that Grace was a good letter-writer and “so taken with
it” was Lota “that she said ‘We must take her a nice present when we get
to Boston!’”
Bishop had mentioned in her last letter of 1956 their plan to go to the US in
1957. As things unfolded, that is just what she and Lota did at the end of
March.
The plans were seriously in the air at this time because she
and Lota spent some time puzzling over what to take Grace “from here, where the
choice is so limited.” Bishop thinks perhaps an “aquamarine.” “Would you like a
pin, a ring, or earrings?” She tells Grace that there is “rather nice jewelery
[sic] made of all the Brazilian
stones put together — aquamarines, beryl, a pink one, etc. — rather pretty.”
[Ed. Note: Bishop sent Grace jewelry on a number of occasions. A few of these
pieces are in the collection at Acadia University Archives. Grace’s daughter
Phyllis Sutherland also inherited some of this jewelry, including one of the
beautiful brooches Bishop sent to her aunt, one of those with several
“Brazilian stones put together.”]
The run to Rio was to
“attend to various duties.” But in the end it was “so damned hot” that they
“did scarcely anything at all … I simply couldn’t face the dentist. It was too
hot to move.” Even a welcome invitation “to dinner and a night club (something
I almost never do, but adore when I get the chance)” was declined because “it
was too hot to get dressed up and go.”
Instead, the two nights they were in Rio saw them going “way
out along one of the beaches to a funny little place that sells fried shrimp —
at least it was cool there.” These excursions were so interesting that Bishop
wished she “could take you there — I’m sure you’d like it.” What follows is a
lively description of the sights and sounds and the food they encountered.
First, there was a spot “along the road where they have set
up a lot of little sheds.” Though “primitive” (with just oil lamps or torches),
each shed had “a little saint inside, with flowers and a light in front.” The
fare at these spots was: “hot corn on the cob, grilled bits of meat stuck on
sticks of bamboo, slices of melon or pineapple stuck on bamboo.” And the piéce de resistence: “a strange
Brazilian sweet made of corn meal and sugar and herbs, cooked in folded up
corn-husks.” To Bishop, these looked and tasted “exactly like hot poultices
… but Lota likes them!”
(Pamonha, a paste made from fresh corn and milk,
boiled wrapped in
corn husks, turned into dumplings)
Continuing along the road was another “encampment of sheds
where they sell fresh oysters and crabs.” The oysters were “delicious — small,
just caught.” These shellfish were opened “as fast as you can eat, and you just
stand up and suck them out of the shell, squeezing a little lime-juice on top.”
To Bishop, the taste was far superior this way, rather than “being iced.” They
had gone on this excursion with friends (whom she does not name). “One of the
men with us ate 4 dozen [oysters].” But he claimed this was no real feat
because “once he’d eaten 12 dozen!”
Believe it or not, these stops were merely “preliminaries.”
They continued along the road, “right along the beach,” arriving at “two or
three little restaurants where they sell hot shrimps, fried in the shell.” All
this consumption generated a good thirst, too. And at the end the reward was
beer: “The Brazilian beer is wonderful, much better than the U.S. — as good
as the Canadian!” But, Bishop avers, “alas I never touch it any more because of
my figger” (that is, figure).
After this mouth watering description, Bishop turned again
to saccharine (which she spelled correctly this time), to clarify for Grace
that the “liquid” variety she had mentioned before was a product of Park-Davis.
The SWEETA was Squibb. She was trying to get their cook to use it. Maria, who
clearly enjoyed her own cooking, was “getting fat and complains constantly.”
But she refused to use the sweetner because “it tastes bitter! (It doesn’t at
all).” In a somewhat superior tone, in light of the excess she had already
described to her aunt, Bishop noted that “the Brazilian diet of black beans and
rice …. cook[ed] with lard … and potatoes, usually),” along with “black coffee
with about half a cup filled with sugar each time” wasn’t “exactly thinning.”
Indeed, some might suggest that beans, rice and potatoes is quite a good diet,
in contrast to grilled meat, oysters and shrimp! Well, everything in
moderation!
During my visit to Brazil in 1999, my favourite meal
was breakfast. The little inn where I stayed in Ouro Prêto laid out a lovely
buffet with all sorts of delicious breads (I particularly liked one with cheese
in it) and fruit. I steered clear of the North American fare that had been
thoughtfully added to the menu for the gringos. I am no coffee drinker, but
I’ve never tasted better coffee anywhere else. For lunch (if not provided by
the conference), we usually went to a place that offered a salad buffet. I’ve
never seen so many vegetables and fruits in my life, as well as more lovely
breads. Dinners were always some sort of well-prepared meat. I never had
Brazilian beer, but certainly tried cachaça (in a wonderful, potent drink
called a caipirinha).
(caipirihna)
One of my most vivid memories of that trip was on the drive
back to Rio. We stopped at a roadside BBQ (the
equivalent to an North American truck stop, but in Brazil done up in a big way). It
was a huge establishment and the sight that was most memorable was the half-dozen
fellows in crisp black and white carrying big skewers of barbequed meat around,
and slicing off what you wanted right into your plate.
(A feast in Brazil, 1999)
This first letter of the year was a long one, so there will
be several more posts about its contents. The next post will be about Christmas
Past.
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