There was a pigeon in the terminal

Learning to channel your inner pigeon

There was a pigeon in the terminal and no one cared.

It was walking around and cooing, weaving in and out of people as it tried to peck a few crumbs of quiejo and pao (cheese and bread) off the ground. I sat in the terminal, waiting for my bus. I saw the pigeon go up the escalator, regal in its stance as it summitted to the next level without needing flight. I mused over the pigeon’s hawk-like attention as it eyed the target (food, of course) and charged before a misplaced step kicked its dinner out of the path. I giggled as it attempted flight, flapping cluelessly above the heads of people and occasionally receiving an exclamatory ah! from a nearby child. I observed as the pigeon collected its food and then brought it cautiously to a corner of the terminal, where I then saw a small flock of pigeons swoop in to feast(assuming family/friends). 

This pigeon felt like a stand-in for a lot of things I have seen and experienced in Latin America. Maybe it’s the three hours of sleep or ten hours of bus ride or the more open mind, but it feels to me that the people in Brazil are like this pigeon.

The Carefree Pigeon

Firstly, this pigeon simply did not care that it might not be meant to be in the terminal. It didn’t understand, or perhaps abide by, societal rules. The pigeon simply saw an opportunity and seized it. People in Brazil are much the same. The unspoken societal rules that govern many Westernized countries, such as the United States, do not hold as true here. People are loud, people are boisterous, people are dirty, people are messy, people are passionate, people are in your face. I have seen it all, both the good and the bad. 

There have been days where I have walked the streets of Rio feeling like I was wading through trash. I was wading through forgotten nights and bottles, half-eaten hamburgers and half-abandoned dreams, dirty undergarments paired with filthy thoughts, and much more. However, I have also been greeted on those same streets by passionate lovers and fervent kisses, opportunity-yielders and venture-seekers, hustlers and bustlers, gentle words and kind acts, and more again.

Streets of Rio, 2024

Through all of these experiences, the people let go of what others thought. Sure, the women wear makeup and get fake boobs in the hopes of standing out among the beautiful throngs of Brazilians. Sure, the men put on their chains and get their tattoos to pledge their allegiance. But also, each and every individual seemingly drew back the curtain of obscurity and allowed themselves to experience and present themselves and their emotions as they pleased. People danced freely on the streets. Hustlers shamelessly offered you concessions by thrusting handfuls of chocolates or wafers in your face. Friend groups gutturally screamed at the newest piece of gossip. People lived, and much like that pigeon, they paid little heed to what society thought of them.

The Resourceful Pigeon 

That pigeon was also a resourceful one. It knew, oh boy did it know, how to get by. Why waste energy flying when one can take the escalator? Why peck away at the floor when one can simply sneak a few bites from an unaware passenger? Why roam the city streets when one can gain from the carelessness of the human race? Many of these sentiments are shared by Brazilians I have encountered. 

One day, I was waiting for my BlaBlaCar when I saw a man hauling four large duffels of items. As he brought them out, I saw him scribbling out calculations on the sidewalk next to me. Curious, I kept an eye on him and saw him begin conversing with what seemed to be the owner of the nearby gas station. A debate ensued, growing heated. The gas station owner eventually conceded and began dishing out reales. 100, 200, 300… he kept going. It seemed to be an exchange of bulk goods that would then be sold for what I assume to be no less than five times the price they were bought for. What a genius. How resourceful. Very pigeon-like. 

Another time I was hitch-hiking in Paraty and met a man who was selling water in massive jugs. He was driving to the beach. Puzzled, I questioned him on the profitability of this venture. Grinning at me, he said in broken Spanish: “La gente tiene sed.” The people are thirsty. I inwardly smiled as he explained his crafty device of filling jugs with filtered water from his house, cooling them, and then selling them at a few reales a pop on a hot summer day. 

The beach he sold his water at

On yet another day, I was visiting Iguazu Falls (near the borders of both Argentina and Paraguay) and I met someone crossing the border into Brazil. He was lugging bags of things/food (unsure even to this day). I offered him a hand and we got to talking. He explained that goods in Paraguay were three to four times cheaper than goods in the other two countries. So, each day he would drive in and buy an assortment of goods, including cigarettes, shampoos, sunglasses, you name it. Then, he would cross the border and sell them to vendors or on the streets of Brazil (where prices are triple those of Paraguay) and make a large profit. He lived on the Paraguayan side of the border, so he would then take his Brazilian bucks, cross back, and live as lavishly as one can in those parts. Pigeon supreme.

There are more stories of everyday encounters and people I met that have just left me astounded. Maybe I’m sheltered from this resourcefulness through the cushiness of American life, but the hustle is real and the resourcefulness is fully fledged. Damn pigeon. 

The Collectivist Pigeon

The pigeon in that terminal was also a collectivist. I couldn’t tell you if the clan had set up a welfare state, but I could confirm that to these pigeons, sharing was truly caring. This, above all else, holds true in Brazil. 

In Paraty, the island town I was in, I met a random couple as I was hiking to the beach one day. We got to talking (me in Spanish and them in Portuguese) and they shared many parts of themselves and their lives on the way. Feeling a sense of camaraderie, we sat down on the beach and they offered me a beer from their cooler. Then, wine, Then, some spirits. Soon, we were giggling as we “borrowed” (for a short time, really) a kayak that was laying on the beach and went out to the ocean. In the tranquil waters of the sea, I learned that the male in the relationship came from a favela and his monthly salary was 1,000 reales. $200 for reference. I thought about the cost of alcohol and how I had consumed at least 50 reales worth of alcohol they had given me. That is 1/20th of his salary. That is like someone making $5,000 a month in the US giving someone else $250 worth of alcohol. Dang, generosity. 

Couple not pictured, but this is where we sat to enjoy our beers

In Rio I was staying with a friend named Kelvin at his house, as his guest. When I was leaving, I prepared a sweet note and some gifts. As I got into the Uber the next day, I opened my spare bag to find a jersey of Vasco da Gama, his favorite fútbol team, that he had gotten for me. This man went out of his way to buy me, his guest, a jersey to remember him and the city by. He wanted to share his culture, his passion, his life really. Sharing truly is caring.

Kelvin at the top of Pão de açúcar

After Rio, I went to an island called Ilha Grande. This was a beautiful island where I got to do a lot of hiking and swimming. On a particularly long hike, I found myself without water, walking alongside a pack of Brazilians. Unfazed, they began thrusting water towards me. Everyone wanted to help, and some even ran out of water in their effort to keep me hydrated. Prime welfare state out here.

Pigeon-in-bus-terminal Syndrome

Some of these acts may seem like small or insignificant instances, but they stand out to me because of their sheer multitude during my time here in Brazil. I would have to write an expose to describe every kind act and collectivist decision I have seen in this country. I would have to spend even more time describing the Brazilian attitude of carefreeness, and how it all ultimately boils down to that pigeon in the bus terminal. 

As I take these lessons from abroad into my daily life, I am reminded of the many characteristics that I want to channel. I want to be more myself in the world, free from the shackles of opinions and expectations. I want to be more resourceful, finding ways to make my life and the lives of those around me more fruitful. And I definitely want to be more collectivist, seeking to unlearn the idea of me in favor of the idea of us. 

So, I urge you all to also channel your inner pigeon-in-a-Brazilian-bus-terminal. Who knows, it may change your life in ways you can never imagine. 

Ponderously,

Vicky