When I was a child I went on a car trip that I spent decades wanting to repeat. At the time, my family lived in a tiny inland town in northeastern Brazil, where its 3,000 or so residents live perched on a beautiful mountain 900 m above sea level.
An older cousin who lived with us was getting married at what was then considered to be the “ripe old age” of 25 and needed her baptism certificate for the traditional Catholic Church ceremony. This needed to be picked up from her native town several hours away.
The excitement for the trip began by the name of the town. São Sebastião do Umbuzeiro, a.k.a., St. Sebastian of the “Umbu” Tree (a mouth-watering fruit native to the Brazilian semi-arid region) sounded like an exotic and deliciously weird far-off place that I could later brag about (which I did).
Indeed (and given that I had recently moved in from Washington, D.C.), the long ride to reach the town, through a mix of poorly asphalted highways, dirt roads across the semi-arid landscape and a series of wrong turns was quite an adventure for a six-year old.
At that time, the small towns of the “interior” (as we say here), being relatively untouched by many modernities, had a special secluded feel to them.
Still a luxury to most, TV was watched collectively in the city square and was only turned on for the evening news and the soap opera that followed. Long-distance calls were made to the city’s “phone station” and the operator had to run off to people’s homes when an unscheduled came in.
To this day, I still get a warm feeling when I remember that sensation of being in an entirely new and special world.
This Easter, almost 30 years later, I was finally able to repeat the trip. Although I couldn’t convince my husband to travel solely for this purpose, we agreed to take the same route my family had taken years ago on the way back from another trip.
When I first told my son (coincidence or not, now six himself), he didn’t get too excited about it. However, he started counting the days when I told him the details of my own trip. He was especially thrilled by the idea of seeing the same alligator I had seen when I was little, which lived in an terrarium of sorts in the city square of a town called São José do Tigre (“St. Joseph of the Tiger” – I remembered talking about than name for weeks, I thought it was so cool!).
We joked the alligator would have a beard by now, and we also spent several days trying to guess how the town name came to be (just for the record, there are no tigers in Brazil, which contributed to the mystery). Was it a tiger that escaped from the circus? Did the town have some kind of menagerie in the past? What did the saint have to do with the story?
The time of the trip finally came, and I was able to check what was true from my memories and what had changed in all of these years. The town of São Sebastião do Umbuzeiro is, of course, much larger now. I remembered it as a string of houses around a great, circular plaza, but we found no such place.
The true name of São José do Tigre turned out to be São João do Tigre (St. John of the Tiger, and not St. Joseph), and by that point my husband and I realized it is probably a reference to the Tigris River, which is called Rio Tigre in Portuguese (so much for the mystery).
It turned out to be a beautiful little town with a square full of colorful flowers but…no alligator or any sign that there had ever been one (in fact, the square looked completely different from what I remembered). We asked around and no one knew anything, until one woman said she vaguely remembered there being an alligator in the neighboring town, Jataúba, several years before.
So off we went to Jataúba, where we had to pass through anyway (by the way, Jataúba is a type of native stingless bee – for some reason that name didn’t stick to my mind when I was six). We had to ask around a lot until finally a guy at the gas station told us there used to be two alligators in the town square, but one had died and the other had been transferred to the state capital’s zoo over 20 years ago.
Overall, we all loved the trip, although my husband wasn’t too thrilled about driving so many hours on dirt roads! The baby pretty much slept the whole time. My son enjoyed seeing the different towns and learning more about the plants and animals of the caatinga (a kind of dry savannah). We even crossed a stream on the road, which he thought was one of the best parts.
I had thought most of the roads would have been paved by now, but we drove through more than 80 km of dirt roads. On the other hand, when we passed through São João do Tigre we were able to stop at a cyber café and check our route on Google Maps.
There were teenagers surfing the social networks and playing online computer games. We also stopped at a little gift shop which sold Hershey bars and plastic toys from China. So, for good or for bad, things have changed considerably.
In addition to being fun, this trip was a great opportunity to begin talking to our son about our family history. Like most families, there are many interesting stories to tell, and depending on how it is done, I believe passing on the family history to our children is very important (in fact, I am becoming increasingly aware of that lately – it will probably be the topic of a future post).
And you, did you go on memorable trips when you were a child? How were they important to you? Have you repeated any of them with your own children? If not, would you consider doing so?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Eco Ziva of Brazil.
Photo credit to the author.
Eco Ziva,
I’ve taken my children to the boardwalks in New Jersey that I’ve grown up on, and watched my older daughter ride in the types of rides I rode as a child. But, a big memory where I went back after many years, was when I returned to the town in Japan that I was foreign exchange student in after ten years. I took my husband with me, and that feeling of nostalgia was amazing! It was exciting to see all the people again and to see what was different. I hope to bring my daughters there one day.
I really enjoyed reading about your journey and was so glad that you solved the mystery of the aligators and of the town name to explain to your son!
Jen 🙂
What a lovely post. I am about to take my daughter to where I was born and grew up in New Jersey, and can’t wait. It’s going to be such a special experience.
My family used to take a road trip once a year during the Summer break to visit my parents families. We would drive an entire day and night to get there. I was just a baby so I do not have many memories from those trips. Later when we got older and my siblings were old enough my parents would send us on the train. I do remember those trips, though, and I always loved them!!! We would spent the entire Summer in the village, drinking milk straight from cow, picking wild blueberries and selling them on the local farmers market, helping with harvesting grains and potatos. My cusins used to take me for rides on the tractor around those old dirt roads, and it was just amazing. I know that these days it all look different and my family doesn’t have those big farms anymore, but still, I wish I could take my daughter to all those places and tell her stories of my youth.
I loved reading your comparison between the two experiences. It’s so interesting how we remember these things from childhood!
When I was 4 years old, my parents packed up our entire family (5 kids total) in a station wagon and drove from Pennsylvania to Florida to go to Disney World. It was a 20 hour trip without the stops. We stretched it out over 2 days there, then stayed a week and drove the 2 days home. I give my parents alot of credit for pulling this off. But they are road trip people and prefer to drive all around the USA rather than fly.
As for our own kids, my husband and I took our son to our college reunion awhile back and walked the campus with him. He was still only 3 years old, so not at an age to take much in, but we showed him the fountain where Mom & Dad first decided to become a couple as well as take his picture in front of all the landmarks. While seeing our friends and visitng our old stomping grounds was fun, merry making on your college campus is WAY different 10+ years later with small children in tow 😉
We have been able to take our girls back to the little shore town where we were married, and they have walked thro the church and had dinner at the places we had our rehearsal dinner and our actual wedding in. it was lovely to do trip down memory lane with them by our sides.
Family road trips can be great fun, I agree. And I agree that families are full of great stories – it’s finding the time to share them which can be tricky in these busy times. Thank goodness for grandparents who often hold the family-history in their heads and hearts.