“Get up! Get up! Get up!” we all chanted as the minibus slowly crawled up the steep road. We had been travelling for almost 2 hours and it was getting pretty late. Everybody was exhausted. I’d only been to my cousin’s sítio once before, when I was really little. It was like a place of dreams for a curious toddler from what I could remember. A big house in the Brazilian countryside with a swimming pool, full of exotic plants and animals. There were bunk beds and old video games like Super Mario Bros from the 80s. A large plaster wall ran all around the home, protecting it from any danger, it was my little castle. There were so many happy memories to relive. The minibus gave out one last tired puff and began to retreat from the hill, and turned a corner to find another route. Eventually, we arrived and were greeted by the alluring scent of feijoada, one of the best foods on earth if you ask me. Rice, pork, oranges, black beans, farofa (toasted cassava flour/farinha de mandioca) and greens waiting to fill everyone up. The sound of Brazilian music rang in my ears while I gobbled down my meal. If it weren’t so dark, I wouldn’t have realised that it was almost 10 o’clock at night. Once we were all well fed and had cleaned our dishes, the exhaustion hit like a brick. Droopy eyed and sleepy, my mum, my brother and I trudged over to one of the many rooms in the house. There were lots of bugs and mosquitos scurrying around outside, so we made sure to put on insect-repellant before we went to bed. I threw my bags over the top bunk and drifted off.

The next morning, I was up early. School had messed up my body clock and I couldn’t sleep in if I tried. I quietly slipped on my flipflops and went out to see if anybody was awake. I hadn’t seen anyone but there was breakfast on the table, so I grabbed a bread roll and went out to explore. There were loads of fruit trees all around the sítio (like starfruit, mango, tangerine, and so on) so naturally, I tried to climb them, and failed. A lot of them had bits of loose wood all around them, so it was difficult to find your footing. Although I couldn’t get up the trees, I could still look up them. It was incredible how many little birds were roosting in the trees. There seemed to be at least one of each colour. I took a small portion of bread and placed it upon the tallest branch I could reach. Tiny chirps made their way to my mind, it felt so peaceful to hear the animals, the calmness of the countryside, the sound of my footsteps and no one else’s. There was a soft sloshing of running water nearby, investigating was of course, the best option. A pipe, just the size of my hand, was gushing out some murky water. It was from when the pool was cleaned earlier that morning. I wasn’t alone after all. The hot sun beamed down onto my skin as I walked along the poolside. Two small lovebirds were singing their funny melodies to each other on the roof of the house. They were gorgeous, green and red with yellow bellies. “Bom dia gente!” came from the open kitchen. I ran over to say good morning back and was surprised to see most of my family there already. They must have woken up while I was gone. Anyway, my littlest cousins were sitting drinking chocolate milk and eating bread with fruit. My cousin’s dog, Joe, practically leapt into my arms, wagging his little tail. He was a tiny west highland terrier with soft white fur. I’d say he looked pretty good for the ripe age of 13. After I had greeted everyone, I took a banana and walked off with Joe in my arms. 

We had reached the back wall when I saw something jump from a tree. I couldn’t see where it had gone so I put Joe down and climbed up a ledge on the wall for a better view. There it was, a pair of curious yellow eyes staring back at me. It’s a miko! I never thought that such a small fluffy thing would want to go near people. Luckily, I hadn’t eaten the banana yet, so I opened it a bit and sat it on top of the wall to see what the miko would do. Instead of going over to the fruit, the monkey opened its mouth and let out a squeal like a super high pitched sports whistle. Suddenly, another appeared. Then another, and another. There were about five of them all scurrying along the wall to investigate their friend’s call. I picked the banana back up to try and lure them a little closer. Two particularly brave ones, one of which was the first one to spot the fruit, edged closer. They were the cutest things ever! Soft, dark fur with the fluffiest little faces, I could’ve cuddled them forever. I didn’t realise I was still holding the banana until I felt something hit my back, and then again. The brave pair of monkeys had jumped onto me. I could hardly believe it. I placed the banana back on the wall and they all lunged towards it as if it were some kind of miko-magnet. 

The next couple of days, I continued to feed the mikos. If we hadn’t taken that other turn, I wouldn’t have been able to see them at all. (Although I did see them at my Tia Irene’s house and climbed trees with the mikos there after.) I wish I could have seen them for longer.