Altamira: Sweat, Street Art, and Seriously Sticky Air

okay, so altamira. it’s…a lot. i’m a *street artist, right? always chasing that perfect wall, that vibe. and this place? it’s got potential. i landed with a thump, feeling like i’d walked into a greenhouse. i just checked and it’s…like wearing a warm, damp blanket all the time, hope you’re cool with that.

first impressions? the air is thick enough to chew. humidity’s hovering around seventy-something percent, and it feels like it’s actively trying to glue itself to your skin. the pressure’s normal, apparently, but my sinuses disagree. i’m pretty sure i’ve sweated out a small ocean already. the locals don’t even blink, though. they’re just…existing in it. it’s impressive, honestly.

spent the first day just wandering, trying to get a feel for the streets. the art scene is…developing. there’s some incredible stuff hidden in alleyways, but also a lot of just…tags. you know? the kind that make you wonder if the artist even owns a can of paint. i found a little cafe near the market - seriously, the market is insane, a total sensory overload - and overheard some gossip.

“apparently, that new mural on Avenida Rio Negro? someone painted over it last night. said it was ‘too political.’ can you believe it?”

classic. it’s always the political ones, isn’t it? i’ve been scoping out a wall near the river, thinking about doing something with the local flora. there’s this amazing, almost neon-bright bougainvillea everywhere. it’s a photographer’s dream, honestly. i saw some amazing shots on Yelp of the area.

my accommodation is…rustic. let’s just say the fan is working overtime. someone warned me about the mosquitos - apparently, they’re the size of small birds and carry everything short of the plague. i’m slathering myself in repellent like it’s going out of style. i’ve been checking out TripAdvisor for tips on avoiding getting eaten alive.

there’s a weird energy here. it’s not bad, just…intense. like the city is holding its breath. i heard from a guy at a bar - a seriously dodgy bar, i might add - that there’s a lot of tension with the dam construction. apparently, it’s displaced a lot of people.

“don’t talk to anyone about the Belo Monte dam, okay? just…don’t. people get real quiet real fast.”

charming. i’m trying to stay out of politics, honestly. i’m here to paint, not start a revolution. although, a really good mural could be revolutionary, right? i’m also trying to find some decent coffee. it’s been a struggle. i’ve been relying on instant, which is a crime against humanity, really. i’ve seen some recommendations on local forums about a place called ‘Café da Praça’ - apparently, they make a mean espresso.

if you get bored, belém is just a short flight away. or you could take a boat trip up the Xingu River. i’m thinking about it. i’m also thinking about finding a cold shower. and maybe a new can of mosquito repellent. and definitely that espresso. i’m starting to think i need a vacation from my vacation. i’ve also heard that the police station* is a good place to avoid at night.

“just…don’t wander around alone after dark. trust me on this one.”

okay, gotta go. the humidity is calling my name. and i think i just saw a mosquito the size of my thumb.

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