Pain in the sprain.

I sprained my ankle yesterday. First time ever. I was rushing to get off the bus with my big-ass heavy backpack in front of me and I misjudged the distance between the last step and the pavement. Down I went. I couldn´t get up for about 15 seconds because the pain was so great, I was sure I had broken it. Luckily I was with a group of people I had met at the hostel in Olinda, so they helped me up and took a look at the injury. In 30 seconds it swelled up to the size of a lemon and I couldn´t put any weight on it. We had to catch another bus, so one of them, Liam from Canada, kindly carried my larger bag and another, Sarah from Indiana, took my smaller one. I limped along.
So the bus journey to Ponto do Galinhas was too long. I had gotten some ice from a vendor and stuffed them into a Ziploc bag (those are handy to bring along on any trip), but since the weather is so hot up here in the north, the ice melted 15 minutes later. So I had to get creative. Two-thirds into the trip a guy hopped aboard selling popsicles for 25 cents so I bought one and tied it to my ankle. It helped a little bit.
Walking around to find a hotel friggin sucked. I was just so slow. Eventually we decided they´d go find a place while I waited. So I waited. And waited. In the end, Liam and I opted to pay $1 more to stay in a hotel with a TV and air conditioner rather than a hot hostel. And then what did we do? I went to the beach. Hobbled along. I should have been resting, I know. Ponto do Galinhas is a well-known beach here, and it deserves the recognition. The town is so named because it was a former point of slave import. Since this had been illegal, the shipowners would use the term ´´galinhas´´ -- which means hen (as in chicken) -- to disguise what the true nature of their cargo was. So if a guy had said he had a shipment of galinhas coming in, he actually meant he was waiting for a load of Angolan slaves imprisoned underneath the clucking chickens. I am really surprised that they havent changed the name of ths place considering the history. You have chicken statues and chicken souvenirs everywhere here as well, so you can take home your very own galinha. Note my sarcasm.
This morning my foot feels better but the whole top is now also swollen. This injury has really thrown a kink into my travels, because I was supposed to leave today to continue heading northward. I dread having to deal with my luggage -- Brazil is not handicapped-friendly, that´s for sure.
We´re here in the middle of a four-day festival that happens in the evenings, with lots of live performances of traditional Brazilian music, like forro and axe, and capoeira. After watching an incredible capoeira dance yesterday, I went to a juice bar and had what they call an energetico, a mix of guarana syrup, nut powder, acai and more. It is supposed to give you a kick in the ass. Every few minutes firecrackers would go off -- these ones here are especially loud and annoying -- and the poor waiter would duck under the table. It was a reflex he couldn´t control, a nervous tick developed probably from going up in the favela.
I´m heading off tomorrow, no matter what my foot will be like, to Praia de Pipa, another famous beach of the northeast. From what I´ve been hearing from other travelers, it´s been a highlight of their Brazil travels. I´ll be spending my birthday there. 29 and only getting older, wiser, and I hope less anal about things.
It is a gorgeous day but I really should go back to my hotel and rest up for what will undoubtedly be an insane day of travel -- because of this ankle thing -- tomorrow. Wish me luck! And being that I put myself back on antibiotics because I think I have another staph infection as a result of a mosquito bite, I really need it. These mosquitos are unrelenting and nothing is working.
I am already getting excited about Colombia. It´s supposed to be the best country to visit out of South America. I´ll let you know.