"Excuse me? I'm sorry, but do you have any idea where Bella Belém is?"
He had clearly never heard of it. "Bella Belém? I don't have a clue. Let's go find it!"
"Man, that is not what I was asking. You were just walking the opp—"
"Nah, I'm not doing anything right now. C'mon!"
And so we did. With the help of at least one more willing Brazilian, we finally arrived, sat down, and passed a moment sipping our beverages of choice.
But the day was far from done. "Have you been to the docks?" he asked.
At 11pm that evening, I got a phone call. It was Nilsson. "Just wanted to make sure you got home alright," he said.
I've been in Belém do Pará long enough that this type of thing shouldn't surprise me anymore. Also, I've received so much hospitality during travels in the US, and been overwhelmed by the attitude and actions with which I've been welcomed in so many of the fifty states. But over and over again, Belém (and Pará generally) has continued to completely redefine any notions I've held about hospitality—its extent, its impact, and the friendships that can grow out of the unlikeliest of interactions.
And it continues to be the force that seems to most drive Beleense/Paraense culture: boundless hospitality.