Cars hustle to their destinations as the city’s beach prepares for its day. Another sweltering day, the locals are going about their daily routines. Joggers are shaded by the massive palm trees lining the street. As my rowdy family and I near the beach, the view of the heated, crystal, salty sea gleams and sparkles under the continuously rising sun. The high strung, lush cliffs creep through the morning fog in the distance, and look exceptionally beautiful against the peach sky. My younger cousins giggle as they frolick to the water’s welcoming edge. I smile widely, take it all in, and place my feet into the smooth, yet grainy white sand. Everybody knows how fun the beach is, but not many know how extraordinary and unique a local beach is in such an exotic country like Brazil.

The knife’s blade hits the cutting board as it sharply goes through the coconut’s rough, protective skin. I thank the kind man, put in a straw, and happily walk away slurping in the coconut’s warm, sweet water. Such a great start to the upcoming day! As we walk to our spot on the beach, my Grandfather cracks a joke about how he just made creepy faces at some young kids, like he always does to be funny. My Grandfather has always been the one to make me smile, no matter what mood I am in. Our chosen spot is so perfect today, right near a food hut and not too far away from the ocean. Brazilian samba music blasting from the food hut makes the beach so inviting and cheerful. My family starts to unpack and I spread out my towel and stretch out to soak in the sun’s glaring heat. Nearby, my cousins, uncles, and brother have started attempting to dig an even deeper hole than the hole they dug on our last beach trip. Their squeals of laughter as they gallop around are comforting, familiar, and even peaceful. As the clock’s hands start to reach noon, the beach starts to get extremely packed. The enticing aroma of steak and chicken kabobs fill the air, and my family and I order plates of barbeque straight off the grill. As I sink my teeth into the juicy steak, I watch several beach venders parade the beach, boasting about their goods. One vender advertises her array of vibrant, colorful, and silky beach dresses. Another presents his display case of funky native Brazilian jewelry. All of a sudden my cousin Jennifer’s face lights up as she gawks in the opposite direction. Our favorite vender is making his way up the beach, pushing a cart full of a frozen, scrumptious world. I pick my usual one, and bite into the chilly, strawberry, sweetness. It’s so much tastier here than in America, and to understand why you would have to try it for yourself. As usual my enormous family takes a good ten minutes before the man can finally go on his way. I don’t mind though; I like it better that way.

Soon my family decides it is time to take a dip to cool off from the South American sun. The ocean here is a clear, shiny bright cyan, and the waves are so calm and peaceful. The sound of the gentle waves crashing along the shore line and the soft hum of birds in the air is enough to make me almost go into a mini trance. The water trickles over my feet as I walk into it confidently, not like I would in Massachusetts’s frigid, dreary seas. My younger cousins splash each other as they race each other to deeper water, and everyone laughs about how my adorable Grandmother almost stumbled over a wave. Local boys skid past on wake boards while other families engage in friendly
conversations with mine. However, this banter is not weird here; it’s just how Brazilians are.

As the day begins to transform into night, the sky becomes streaked with yellow and pink, and the sun that was once so high is already starting to diminish underneath the cliffs. The city and beach that was once prolific with car horns, people crowded everywhere, and boisterous chatter and laughter, is now dead with silence. The last few stragglers are trudging their way towards the city, carrying with them their sandy beach chairs and towels. Majestic palm trees are swaying along with the evening’s calm wind, and the food huts have padlocked their windows. My family and I walk back to ours cars with cameras filled with pictures and videos of long lasting memories. Coming to the beach in Brazil is such an extraordinary experience, because not many people visit here, and if they do they would most likely never understand how diverse and thrilling a local beach in Brazil really is.