A long hiatus

Wow, it's been about two years since my last post.

I don't have any excuse, other than the fact that I am your classic ENFP and I love to start projects with gusto, and then forget about them quickly.  I thought I'd do better on Tumblr because the posts are shorter, and I kept that up for a month or so, but gave up as well.

Also, life happened, I guess. Life in Brazil is frustrating and great all at the same time.  I think to myself every day how I'm not living it as I should be; I've become such a homebody.  I have some big life updates that I guess I should list out, and maybe I'll write about each one in a future post. Maybe I won't write in here for another two years. There's no way to know.

- I got a promotion at work to a job I was already kind of doing.

- The guy that I was "ficando" with and madly in love with during that year but both of us not committing because we thought we wanted to play the field a little longer, and I, ended up getting married. :-) It wasn't such a leap - we were already in love with each other that entire first year. We finally decided to stop hurting each other and dilly-dallying and commit. We moved in together in January of this year. We knew basically the entire time together that we were made for each other, and decided to just make it official and tie the knot. We did it in the US on July 31, and knowing that we both want to go make a life in the USA, we did our green card application right away. I'm so excited for our life here (we both have places we want to visit and things we still want to do here in Brazil), but excited for our life there, too. It's just logical. We want a house. We want a yard. We want a dog. We want our future kids to be able to ride bikes in the street without getting robbed or worse. We want a car that doesn't cost twice as much just because of Brazilian price inflation.  For me, Rio was never meant to be permanent. I'll never forget the disappointment I felt on our second date, when I was already mad for him, and he said he'd never want to live anywhere but Brazil.  All it took were a few visits to Pittsburgh for him to see what a better life we'd have.  So, off we go! Well, assuming our green card is approved. If it isn't, then I have no idea what we'll do. I can only pray that the good ol` US of A isn't cruel enough to make me choose between the love of my life and my country.

- I had my first assalto. It was a scary drugged out homeless dude with a knife. He took my phone, which was replaceable, but I haven't been the same since. Before that moment I really thought I might want to stay in Brazil another few years. After that, the fear I felt (and still feel) every time I'm out in Centro after work, I remember that day. Add in the robberies I've seen first-hand since then, and I'd go tomorrow if they'd let me.  I mentioned there are still things I want to do in Brazil, and that's true, but I guess I wish I could have the best of both worlds - the beauty of Brazil, and the safety of home.  But that's wishful thinking. I learned a valuable lesson, at least - always look on the bright side.  In any case, since my husband is Brazilian, we'll always have a reason to come back.

- I had my first visitor in Brazil, my best friend! She came for about 11 days back in September of this year, and even though we were unlucky with the weather, I went on my first Arraial do Cabo trip with her (and my husband). We had such a blast. Though I admit I could have done without what felt like my 30th trip to see Cristo Redentor. But hey, it's part of the job, and if there's anyone I'd do it for, it's her.  My brother is coming to visit in December, so that will be awesome, too!

- I joined a gym in March of this year. It's going well. I actually manage to go at least 3 times a week, usually 4, and they have classes. It's not the typical Brazilian gym, which is why I go. Maybe that would be a good entry.

- We watched all of Breaking Bad. I know that's not really news, but I loved it so much that I felt it was worth putting on the list.

I really thought there were more big life updates, but I don't. I'm an old married lady now, and we mostly just hang out and eat and watch Netflix.  Hence the gym membership. :-)

I swear I'll write more about life in Rio soon.  As if anyone reads this anyway, let's call a spade a spade.

Bus Etiquette

Adding to the list of things I don't understand in Rio - the concept of bus etiquette.

To make the following comparisons make more sense, please note that in Rio, in all buses, you pay at the front of the bus (either cash with the driver, or by swiping a card against a machine). There is another door at the back (sometimes middle) of the bus where passengers exit at their stop. On the particular bus I take to and from work, the door is always at the very back.

And now, without further ado, my observations on bus etiquette (or, more accurately, lack of bus etiquette):


Normal world: When you are in a seat with very little leg room and sitting on the outside of the seat, when the person next to you, near the window, wants to get up to leave, you stand up to let them out comfortably.

Rio: Swing your legs slightly to the outside and make the person practically crawl over you, no matter how many bags they are carrying.


Normal world: Pull the cord to signal/request your stop. When the bus slows down or stops, get up, and get off the bus.

Rio: Get up at least a full stop, maybe two, before your stop. Push people in the aisle to get to the back of the bus, so you can stand in someone else's personal space until your stop finally comes.  You know, because that's easier than waiting until the bus isn't moving to get up and walk around a crowded bus.


Normal world: You get on a very crowded bus, but within a couple stops, most people get off. You wait patiently at the front of the bus for those people to leave, and once the bus empties, those standees remaining move toward the back so that you can stop sitting in the driver's lap.

Rio: You get on the very crowded bus and 2-3 stops later, most of the people have gone. The seats are still full but there is plenty of space in the aisle toward the back of the bus to stand comfortably. However the people at the front of the bus do not move back - they stay right where they are and make you squeeze past them, often almost falling or elbowing someone in the face.


Normal world: Driver waits until people are seated to start driving. In the case that he needs to start driving while someone is still standing or moving toward the back, he drives gently so that they don't fall.

Rio: While people are still halfway out the door and waiting for others to pay their fare, start driving, going really hard on the clutch, slamming on brakes, and speeding up around sharp curves. See how many times you can make people fall down or fall into other passengers, because that's always funny.

Our Nation's Capital

No, not Brasilia - I am in the US until August 19, remember?

Tomorrow I will embark on a journey to Washington DC with my best friend. This is coming at a perfect time, because the best thing about another city is that nobody knows you - you can do what you want, act how you want. I'm needing this more than ever lately, for reasons I won't talk about to a bunch of strangers on the internet.  That said...this "nova liberdade" that I am feeling will "mexer" perfectly with a city like DC.

Tara and I always say that we're going to leave bright and early so we can miss the rush hour traffic, make it there before check-in time, have a calm dinner, get ready and have some pre-drinks (a bottle of sparkling wine) in the hotel, and then head out calmly.  The way it ends up going, though, is that we are lucky if we get on the road by noon (a common chorus is, "Oh, we need to stop at CVS real quick!", "Wait, I need to get cash out, can we stop at an ATM?" "Maybe we should get some road snacks..." "We should probably get coffee to start the journey" - and this goes on and on until at LEAST 11 AM until one of us finally says, "Wait, didn't we want to leave at like 8:00 AM?" and then we finally get on the road.

FYI, I don't call it "on the road" until we get on the turnpike. Driving all around Pittsburgh is typical. Getting on the PA turnpike is not.

We end up hitting the traffic we didn't want to hit, and checking into our hotel around 7:00 PM. We can never remember which restaurants we liked in the area, so we end up walking around trying to find a place that isn't too crowded, choking down alcohol in the room to avoid having to buy as many drinks at the club (DC is expensive!), and getting to the club (Bravo Bravo) barely in time to not pay the cover. 

But then we get inside... we dance some bachatas... we find that salt-n-pepper haired bartender from Peru that we like so much... and we enjoy the night. We leave around 4:00 AM. We walk back to the hotel through the streets, despite all the cuties offering us rides, because we like to walk.  We stop along the way to talk to other club hoppers who are floating down the empty streets. We take funny pictures. And it's always the best time we ever have.

So... early or late, whenever we get on the road tomorrow, this will be a good trip. It will be because it has to be, because we're together.  And because I need it to be good. My soul needs this now.

I suck at blogging

My fear from my very first entry has come true - I have so much to say, yet I don't care enough to say it to anyone, especially the public.  But, in an attempt to salvage this, here is an update of the last month:

- My shipment arrived from the US. I now have a small Costco/Walmart in my cupboard, and I shouldn't need to buy shampoo, hot sauce, or ketchup for at least a year.
- I bought furniture from Arcos Moveis to round out my apartment. This is the first time I have bought quality furniture with the idea of it lasting a lifetime. Does this mean I am in Brazil to stay?  As of a month ago, I really saw a long future there. Now I'm not sure. I don't know if this will just be another stop along my quest.  You can't stay if there's nothing to stay for. That said, I am only 5 months into a 2-year contract. That leaves 19 months for something big to happen.
- I went to an expat happy hour at Lapa Irish Pub a few weeks ago, where I met two very cool ladies. I have stayed in touch with both: I went out salsa dancing with one of them, and had a nice lunch with the other since that night. So if everything else falls through...at least I have someone with whom I can drown my sorrows in alcohol.
- I know I already said my shipment arrived, but the most important part of it, even beyond the Heinz Ketchup, is this: I have a bed. And it is a glorious, plush, queen-sized bed with red sheets (I have blue and green also, but the red are my favorites), and a beautiful quilt, and a bunch of great pillows. It all goes with my new antique-style (but new) dresser and nightstand.  I love my bedroom.
- I am in the US.
- That only reminds me that I am getting creepy Facebook messages and I feel like I'm in Prague all over again.
- I contracted some kind of bacteria from God-knows-what in Brazil, and am now in the process of trying to destroy it. Since I don't want to take antibiotics that will make me pukesies, I am trying a natural cure first, plus killing it on my own with level 10 thai noodles and a lot of hot sauce.
- It's been 5 months in Brazil and I already feel like escaping. Something happened in these last couple days. A change inside me that I don't want to talk about here. Something that is making me question everything I think and believe. And I think I need to explore that.

I don't really know what else to say.  I kind of miss Rio already, but I don't miss having to worry about my laptop bag getting stolen off my shoulder, or putting my wallet down while I bag my groceries. Or, for that matter, leaving food out all night and knowing that it won't be covered in roaches when I wake up (not that that's happened to me yet, but probably only because I'm careful.

I don't feel like writing anymore, I just don't like to neglect my journals. Sometimes in the future, they're all the past you have. Sometimes it's fun to go back and remember how you felt at a certain time. And other times it's better to just forget it. I can't decide yet which kind of time this will be.

Birthday Festa & Culture Shock

After having traveled quite a bit in my life, I don't really get culture shock anymore. I am accepting of other cultures and can usually roll with the punches. In all the time I've spent in Brazil so far (a couple weeks back in 2007, then another two visits in 2012, and now living here for four months), I haven't had culture shock yet. Despite the fact that I have some Brazilian friends who have been kind enough to invite me into their homes with their families and to see how Brazilians really live, it's been pretty standard.  Last night I met a whole new crowd.

I have a semi-new carioca friend named Lu. He is a policeman, and around my age. A perfectly nice guy with good opinions and a kind heart. We've only hung out once before last night, but talk frequently. We had tentative plans to see a movie, but in the end he said there was a birthday party he had to go to for a teenager, and would I like to accompany him instead of seeing a movie?

My first reaction was to just say "no thanks". Birthday parties are intimate, for people that are close to the birthday boy/girl, family and close friends. When I expressed that, he said no, not here, birthday parties are for everyone. Furthermore, there is no need to bring a gift - it's just another Brazilian excuse to have a party. So I went.

Lu picked me up at almost 9:00 PM, and the apartment was only about 5-10 minutes driving from where I live in an area called Catumbí.  We went up to the 4th Floor and as soon as the elevator doors opened, the party was there. Brazilian funk music was pumping through the hallway. Young girls in booty shorts were shaking what their big-butted mamas likely gave them. A group of 30-something guys were hanging out in the hallway near an open window drinking beers, a pile of empty cans already accumulated. As we passed the group of girls, one came over and hugged Lu. He told me, "This is the birthday girl!" We greeted each other with the standard two cheek kisses and I wished her a happy birthday. I wanted to ask how old she was, but was still feeling overwhelmed and couldn't form sentences in Portuguese that were longer than one or two words. I guessed in my mind that she was probably 16 or so, turning 17 maybe. She was wearing very short shorts, strappy black high heels, a shirt that was more like a bra (entire stomach bare), and more makeup than I, at 30 years old, would ever wear.

We got into the apartment, passing through various crowds. The door was open and there were two couches in he hallway with piles of people on them. Inside, the perimeter of the living room was lined with chairs, full of people of all ages. A few kids that must have been 3 or 4, and women as old as probably 70. We smiled and greeted them all, and were led to a couple of chairs. Cans of beer were shoved into our hands, and the party host barked some words at me over the pumping music. I understood a few food words and gathered that she was offering me something to eat. I politely refused. Then to another offering, Lu yelled, "She's probably never had it before - bring her a little!"
"What did you just accept for me?"
"Caldo de ervilha. It's great, you'll like it."
"Caldo...doesn't that mean soup? Pea soup?"
"Yeah!"

I was thinking, "...at a party?"  The next thing I knew, a plastic bowl and spoon full of split pea soup were placed in my hands. So, yeah. Soup at a party. Where it's already about 80 degrees outside and there is no A/C or even a fan. And no table to put down the bowl.  Of course, I couldn't be rude, so I ate what I could of my soup. I sat there spooning it in (it was actually tasty, just, not the season for hot soup), when I noticed the big cake on the table with a big "12" on it. This girl was turning 12. As in...yesterday, she was 11. What mother would let her kid dress like that at age 12??

That was when I met her mom.  She was wearing a skin tight dress with holes cut out in the back. If she moved incorrectly, I am certain that there would have been visible nipple or hoo-ha. Luckily she seemed to know exactly how to move in that dress. She bounced around the room, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. And that's when I understood the daughter.

A while later, the birthday girl and her friends came into the apartment to cut the cake. But not before the pictures. A series of about 200 pictures were taken.
Things I learned last night about Brazilian birthday photography:
1) Everyone, even people who don't know her, must go behind the cake table and pose with the birthday girl.
2) Every Brazilian woman, when someone holds up a camera, will immediately turn sideways and stick out her butt.
3) If a man is in the photo, no matter if he is a friend or uncle or brother and no matter what age anyone is, the girl in the photo will turn her butt toward the guy's crotch and stick it out.
4) Acceptable poses for a woman are: kissy face, resting her chin on her hand even though her elbow is not resting on a surface, or the first two poses put together. Acceptable poses for a man are either a thumbs up, a peace sign, or a "hang ten" sign. A man who does not do one of those three with his hand is not a man at all.

After the "parabéns" were sung, cake was cut and the piles of sugar were passed around, the funk music came back on and the lights went out again. This is when the birthday girl got in the middle of the circle, bent over with her butt facing everyone, grabbed her ankles, and started bouncing her booty at crazy speeds.

A few of the other women had "wtf'" looks on their faces. I decided immediately that those were my people. There were a couple of guys videotaping and taking pictures (God help that girl when she's a few years older and those pictures are everywhere, unless she's pregnant by then in which case it doesn't really matter I guess). Then her mom pushed her out of the way and took her place, doing the same. As they say in Portuguese, "Tal mãe, tal filha."  Like mother, like daughter.

The other little girls took turns doing the same dance, and I didn't know where to look the entire time. Eventually Lu asked them to put on some pagode and then people danced like humans again, and I felt a little more comfortable.  Almost three hours had passed, and Lu asked if I was ready to go. I tried not to sound too eager when I said, "YES."

I thanked the host of the party, kissed everyone I had met goodbye, and decided that maybe I wasn't really ready for a real Brazilian birthday party yet. At least, not for girls who are jail bait for creepy old men.

And that, friends, was my first culture shock of Brazil.

Baratas em lugares baratos

Today, for the second time, I saw a cockroach crawling on the floor of my neighborhood supermarket.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am deathly afraid of any kind of insect. There are some that I tolerate better than others, and most people find which ones I fear most to be kind of strange, until they hear my reasoning.

Example:  A lot of people are really afraid of spiders. They can be deadly, they have eight creepy crawly legs, and let's face it, they are ugly. They appear in your home, make webs in hard to reach corners, and *gasp* might actually crawl on you.

My reasoning: Spiders aren't that bad. More typically, they are relatively small, they tend to stay in one place, and most of the ones you would ever see 1) don't bite and 2) aren't poisonous.  If they do bite, it's at night when you don't see it happen, and sure maybe it leaves a bump, but it's not much worse than a bad mosquito bite (which, as I learned here in Brazil, can also be deadly or at least give you a very nasty flu). More typical spider behavior is to sit in a corner of the room, make a little web, and trap and eat OTHER insects that would otherwise be annoying. Spiders, you can stay.

The bug to fear: a butterfly or moth. These suckers have big old wings, fly erratically with no rhyme or reason, don't care if they get tangled up in your hair, and you risk swatting it and getting parts of its ripped wing on you, which I find to be really disturbing. And did you ever try to see one fly away with half of one wing missing? It is disgusting. Butterflies can be pretty from afar when they're sitting on a flower, sure. But then they fly in your face and flutter around you all fast and haphazard, and, just, ew.


Now that you see my rhythm here, let's talk about cockroaches.  Yes, they appear in dirty places. Yes, they get in your food if you leave it out. Yes, some of them can fly (though I've never seen this). For the most part, they seem to not like people, they don't crawl on you (again, not in my experience anyway), they tend to only come out at night when they can freely feast on whatever crumbs you left out, and they move somewhat predictably.  In all cases that I saw a cockroach in Brazil, they were just being chill.

1) On a street in Botafogo. Cockroach quickly crawled across the sidewalk from one building into a sewer hole. It just wanted to get from one dark place to another.
2) Basement of my apartment building. I was scared for a minute that my building was infested, but then I was like, nah, that's where all the trash gets dumped. If they are sticking with the trash in the basement of the building, more power to them. The more trash, the more it keeps them away from my place.
3) Crawling on the floor of the nearest supermarket. In the supermarket's defense, they do leave all that weird salty meat sitting out, along with the pão francês and some other stuff. Also, there is no door, just an open storefront. I simply don't believe that every bit of food in the supermarket is contaminated with cockroaches. Would I buy the salty meat that is sitting out the open, though? Hell to the no.
4) Again in the basement of my apartment building. Again it was just one, and he was chilling on the floor minding his business and didn't move once. Might have been dead, in fact.
5) Again on the floor of the supermarket. Again, rushing toward the exit to disappear into the darkness.

This post doesn't have a point, other than to say that I think houseflies that go really fast and slam into lights, and moths and butterflies, are much scarier than cockroaches or spiders.

And yes, I know I will probably feel differently the first time I get a cockroach in my apartment. I would probably rather have a butterfly infestation.

MIA

I don't know if anyone is actually reading this on a regular basis or if they are just passing through, but in any case, I am sorry I have been MIA for so long.  That stomach bug or whatever it is that I had/have was enough to wipe any writing energy right out of me.

I went to the doctor as planned last Friday, was asked a bunch of questions, given two medications - one antibiotic for something unrelated to my stomach, and something that would absolutely stop my stomach pains and make me feel better. Unfortunately in addition to that, the doc ordered two tests - an abdominal ultrasound (done, and my organs are all fine), and an endoscopy, to happen tomorrow. She said, in order not to mask the true issue, don't take the stomach medicine until after you have the endoscopy. Well shucks, it will have cured itself by then, I said.  But, as she explained, it would take the purpose out of the exams to cover up whatever problem I have with some medication. At least this way maybe they can see what's going on.

In the meantime, a lot has been happening in the streets of Rio. A lot of my Brazilian friends on Facebook are posting their opinions, leaving comments, sharing pictures of the police violence, a policeman friend is posting pictures and articles about attacks on police officers. It's a lot to take in for someone who, to be honest, doesn't know much about the history of the country she's living in, and who has only been here for three months. (Psst...that's me.)  I won't pretend to know what's going on, what's going to happen, or even which side is right (probably both, a little).

I do know the following: I hate the bureaucracy here. I hate that any kind of service I've encountered in my first months here has been unreliable and inefficient. I hate that these smart, amazing people I meet, most of whom have college educations, make such low salaries in this country. Skilled people, like professors and policemen and lawyers and people who work in IT.  I hate that there are so many homeless people everywhere (not because they're bothering me, but because I come from a place where even the "homeless people" are wearing nice Steelers jackets and have someplace to sleep at night and somewhere to get a good, free meal).

I imagine it's hard to grow up with this, but you know what else is hard? Coming from a place where everything works perfectly, and then seeing a place where nothing works well, and the people doing nothing about it and nobody making any effort to change it. I can't tell you how many times I told someone what happened and they shrug and laugh and say, "That's Brazil!" Sure, it's Brazil, but maybe it shouldn't be. 

But who knows what will happen now? I doubt this movement will make Ponto Frio deliver and assemble their orders on time, but I can live with that if the good people around me finally get some of the breaks that they deserve. (That was tongue-in-cheek - please don't think I am so shallow:-).  I'm excited to see what happens between now and the World Cup.  Maybe a lot... or maybe nothing. I don't know enough to really have an opinion.

Brazil, I wish you only the best. Especially since for all intents and purposes...I'm one of you now.