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.
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.
You can laugh at me if you want but this is pretty much exactly how I felt when we went to that club in Puerto Rico!!!!
ReplyDelete