Modern man has no time to take his time.
A thousand things to do, a thousand deadlines to meet, ten thousand thoughts buzzing through the confused mind.
A study has revealed that the thoughts of an average person in the course of a day correspond almost one hundred percent to the ones he has already thought a million times before. So ZERO new ones are added, only the stuff that has long since been chewed through.
So what do we do with this stunning insight? Think about it? We'd better not ...
Time in abundance
But today everything is different, today there's time in abundance, because it is the unknown planet called Chapeco to discover. And maybe one or the other new thought will come up after all.
And yet the question still arises of how to spend a whole day in an unknown, rather uninteresting city. Or is this the chance to discover something I wasn't even looking for?
Where do I start? Just go outside and keep my eyes open?
Let's see.
Chapeco
Chapeco is one of the many small towns scattered across the country. Brazil is more than Rio or Sao Paulo, more than the Pantanal or the Amazon, it is also, as in most countries, the land of villages and small towns. Just like Chapeco. The population with over 200'000 is modest (by Brazilian standards), but just the right size for a relaxed life.
After all, there is a cathedral (again one), a monument (surprisingly), a football stadium (more on that later), a shopping center (who would have thought that) and many streets and alleys and restaurants and street cafes (and as it will turn out later), a large number of pharmacies and drugstores complaining of poor health).
Doesn't sound too bad after all.
So I'm on my way into the unknown.
The hotel is located on an endless seeming road with the pretty name Nereu Ramos (probably one of those unknown heroes, of whom there are truly many in the warlike history of the continent), but after a short time I stumble over, more by accident than planned, the main street that leads directly to the distant shopping center.
The sky burns
It is a very nice and wide street, with two lanes for cars, in the middle a green strip lined with trees. The first impression is very promising. And then - after less than two minutes - Banco do Brasil! With some ATMs. Strangely enough, I'm not surprised. Something that you have to reckon with again and again on these trips is that everything will be different than expected. So here too.
The bank presents a number of ATMs, not all of them in working order, but one is enough. It's a surprisingly good feeling to have cash back in your pocket.
So the shopping center remains a phantom, which is fine by me, because what burns from the sky is something quite special. I squeeze along the shady side of the street, very slowly, because looking at the watch shows that there are still a good ten hours to the departure to Foz do Iguaçu.
That is one of the peculiarities of time. It only becomes noticeable when you have an abundance of it.
Intermittent claudication
You automatically fall into a rhythm of your own, and as if you were suffering from window shopper's disease, you stop in front of stores that you would hardly notice under normal circumstances (window shopper's disease: doctors know what I am talking about, namely chronic arterial occlusive disease of the extremities, which disturbs people when walking and makes them stop every now and then - e.g. in front of shop windows).
Good to know for later times.
For the benefit of my readers, I will not list all the stores, because there are so many of them, my God. What is noticeable after a short time, however, is the number of pharmacies and drugstores. Roughly estimated, every hundred meters there is either one or the other. Jesus, are all the people sick here? Or at least hypochondriacs? I would like to ask, but I'm afraid that my harmlessly meant question would not necessarily meet with understanding ...
But it does make me think.
The five hundredth cathedral
I have long since renounced the Catholic faith, but sometimes, especially here in South America, where there is often nothing else to admire, I have become a surprisingly industrious visitor to churches and cathedrals and basilicas and confessionals.
Also today.
The local cathedral, imposing and architecturally attractive, is an example for many. According to old habit (after all, I attended a convent school for three years) I take off my hat and step into the holy halls ... and I am amazed.
As I said, my Catholic past has obviously still left its mark, and so, strangely touched, I marvel at the barren interior, the modest seating, but above all the ornate windows that remind me a little of the Fraumünster Church in Zurich, not exactly like Marc Chagall's great windows there, but beautiful as well.
Timid attempts at communication
After the excursion into the spiritual world I retire to one of the many street cafés. The waitress in one of the restaurants, a young, exceptionally pretty girl, of whom there are quite a few here, tries a few timid chunks of English. However, her vocabulary is limited to a few words, so our conversation unfortunately remains short and not very informative. Therefore we use what is available: looks, smiles, nods. Sometimes you don't need more.
But somehow time passes, the sun sinks behind the houses, finally it gets a little cooler. I sit down beside some men in a street café, order a Brazilian Cerveja and not Heineken, which leads to a thumbs up from the men. I try to follow the loud conversation. It is definitely about soccer (how surprising), but what their staccato means in detail - no idea.
Chapecoense
But the subject of chapecoense does not let go of me, and so I ask what exactly happened on that ominous 23th of November 2016. The men become very quiet at first, as if the question would awaken the memory again. I do not completely understand everything, but I can follow to some extent. I consulted Wikipedia in the evening for more detailed information. These are the most important points (it makes you sick).
It seems, as always in such cases, that a lot of unfortunate circumstances have led to the Disaster .
- The flight distance of 2994 km was longer than the maximum range of the aircraft type specified by the manufacturer as 2965 km.
- According to the airline, a stopover at the airport Capitán Aníbal Arab, Cobija on the border between Brazil and Bolivia for refueling, which had been planned, had to be cancelled because the airport is closed after sunset.
- According to recordings of the last radio messages, the pilots asked the tower for priority for the landing due to lack of fuel, but failed to explain an air emergency until the very end.
- They did not receive an immediate landing permit, but had to fly two more holding loops.
- A short time later, twelve kilometers from the airport, the pilots reported that the electrical system had failed and the fuel had been consumed. Then the radio contact broke off.
So once again, human error has caused a talented young team, the pride of their city, to meet a senseless death.
It has become quiet at the table. You can see it in the men that the memory is still painful. Outside, the traffic passes noisily.
Chopped the day into pieces
And then it really gets half past nine, I've killed the day, beaten it to pieces, and a cab takes me to the bus terminal, where it is already waiting.
I have a seat at the very back, so there is a small chance that the seat next to me will remain empty. Usually people prefer to choose seats in the front. The seat is quite comfortable, although the sleeping position cannot be fixed at all. However, even at this time of night it is still so hot that not even the air conditioning can help. So for once no cooling down to arctic conditions. Eventually, already dozing, it is midnight and thus Saturday ...
Mileage: unknown
Matching Song: Nick Cave - Idiot Prayer
And here the trip continues ... to Foz do Iguaçu
