Muito obrigada: Thanksgiving in Jericoacoara

One expectation I had returning to Jericoacoara was that it would be as windy as it was in October. But, in contrast to previous years according to the locals, mid-November and December had lighter and more variable winds while I was there. It was definitely lighter than October. There was lighter wind and there were bigger waves, which made for a new challenge.

It was really fun to take the waves coming in. You have to put your foot in the back foot strap and carve up and down the wave like a snowboarder. The waves were pretty big and felt a bit like a gauntlet when I was headed away from shore. I would often go out and stay on the “outside” so I wouldn’t have to be pummeled by the shore breaks. Going out on waves that are coming in means you have to sheet out, balanced with having enough speed so you keep your momentum to go out. You also need to time your speed as much as you can with the breaks in the waves. If the wave is big enough and breaks in front of you, it’s that much harder to sail over. The wind dies momentarily too with the wave’s crest. And, the reason I’m going into this detail is because it also explains a little about my first “serious” injury windsurfing. I had to stop sailing as of Tuesday last week.



I was getting better at the waves and feeling confident and strong. A big wave broke in front of me and I had too much speed. I was catapulted up into the air. I must have looked pretty funny with my rag-doll arms spread-eagle. I closed my eyes as I fell back down. My board had turned upside down. My foot hit something and I thought I had broken a toe. I looked for an injury but saw nothing. I felt an intense pain, but with a few swares and the encouragement of more waves pummeling me (over and over), I kept sailing. When I finally reached the beach, I noticed my foot was bleeding. Unfortunately, I had a very deep long cut between my third and my fourth toe. When I stuck my foot under the sink to rinse it off, I felt sick seeing some serious meat and tendon.

It was Sunday and the only doctor in Jeri was on his day off (six day work week). The wind club arranged for a buggy to take me to a neighboring town called Jijoca. A friend was nice enough (thanks Gordon!) to come with me. The 45- minute drive was a little surreal. I felt anxious about what the hospital might be like and felt that it was really ironic that I was taking the gorgeous buggy ride over the dunes because “I had to.” Gordon distracted me with stories about windsurfing places. We arrived at the “hospital” which is probably better called a clinic. Two nurses quickly greeted me and looked at my foot. As they explained that it would need sutures, Gordon and I conjured up the words for anesthesia and antibiotics. They laughed, probably looking at my eyes getting big (with visions of the Midnight Express in my mind). They asked me my name and promptly called the doctor in. I think this made me even more in shock. Having been to emergency rooms in the US, I would never expect to be met by the doctor within minutes of arrival. But in fact, the casually dressed doctor came in wearing his jeans, his gold bracelet and necklace and white hospital scrub-shirt. He smiled, and then frowned when he realized I spoke so little Portuguese. He smiled again when he asked where I was from and I answered, “Estados Unidos, California, San Francisco.” He seemed proud. Then he looked at my toe. He shook his head and frowned again. Panic resurfaced and I began to search for a way to say, “You will not amputate!” in Portuguese… Gordon and I came back with a Portuguese sounding “anesthesia” and he smiled again. He brought out a muito pequeno (very small) needle and he anesthetized most of my foot. It was glorious. He cleaned the wound and then stitched it up. He wrote me a prescription (no allergies) for antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory. He asked me how old I was. He then asked me to write my name down. Then, I got in the buggy and left. That was it. And it was free. What a contrast to the U.S.

I am now back at home in San Francisco. With an open wound, I couldn’t windsurf and the doctors I met at Jeri advised at least 8-9 days out of the water for a foot injury.. I made some great new friends, and loved every minute I was at Jeri. It is still really nice to be home too.

See you soon. And Brazil, Icarai, Jeri: muito obrigada.

Here are some pictures of Thanksgiving, friends and the surrounds.