My World Got Flip-Turned Upside Down

Today, we arrived in Curitiba about 1/2 an hour earlier than we expected to, which is a bad thing.   Why?   Because we planned to use the bus as a hotel, so arriving 1/2 an hour early means less sleep.   Since it was 5:30 a.m., we killed some time researching the horários (schedules) for our next departures (a national park, and then Blumenau).   When it was finally light outside, we walked the mile to the cheapest hostel/hotel in the book.   I think we woke the caretaker up (it was 7:00 by this time).   I don ´t know if she really had no room, or if she rejected us because we got her out of bed.

Since we were starving, on our way to the next place, we stumbled into a little cafe and inquired about the fare.   There was a sopapia (sp?) looking thing under the counter, and she called it pizza, so we gave it a go.   OH-my-god.   It was SO good.   It was some kind of wonderful cheese, a slice of ham(?), and a tomato inside a pocket of deep-fried bread.   I think we ´re definitely going to make another meal of it before we leave this place.   While Pat was on round two (he ´s about twice my size.   Well.. almost) I wandered down the street to inquire, baggage-free, about the  next hotels on our list.   I found one for an excellent price.   A little run-down, but far from deplorable.   Since we got  really poor sleep on the bus  thanks to the city lights, crying babies, and zero leg room, we decided to take a nap.   And,  like usual, one hour turned into three.   And, I just have to add here, when I say zero leg room, I mean zero.   Pat has a problem by default, but even for ME there was no  leg room.   The really great/terrible thing about the majority of South American busses is that the seats recline about 3x ´s more than a U.S. bus or airplane seat.   Kind of like your personal vehicle.   But that means that the seat in front of you pretty much lays right in your lap.   And  if  you want to have  any room at all, you have to lay your seat onto the  lap of the person behind you.   And so on and so forth.   It wouldn ´t have been so bad, but the woman in front of us was  very ill-tempered.   When she laid her  seat back, it wouldn ´t go any farther once it ran into our knees.   So,  she turned around and  glared at us and started  slamming her body against the seat to gain a few more inches.   Then she glared at  us again before she huffily went to sleep.    And of  course, when we arrived, she wasn ´t courteous enough to return her seat to it ´s upright and locked position, so we were stuck until Ms. Hotty-Totty got off the bus.   And of course  she just sat there  until everyone else had gotten off.   Was she trying to spite  us?

After our accidental three-hour nap, we showered up and hit the streets.   We knew we wouldn ´t get much accomplished, so we planned just to see the Museo Novo, and art museum designed by the famous architecht Oscar Niemeyer (the same one who did Edificio Copan in São Paulo).

The outside of the Oscar Niemeyer Museum. So cool!

A view at night. You can see some little car things behind the eye for size reference. I dont know about all the writing… I got this off a webpage.

Now, in this team-operation of Pat + Jema, I am the directions 1/2 of the team.   I have a pretty good internal sense of direction, and if I see a map, I ´m set for sure.   Pat… not so much.   But for some reason, as we were walking towards the museum, everytime we came to an intersection, I felt confused and uncertain.   Usually I know exactly where I ´m going.   So after checking and re-checking the map every five minutes, just to be sure, I finally realized what was going on.   My internal sense of direction has a lot to do with landmarks.   When it ´s shining, my landmark is the sun.   Because it ´s winter here, the sun in much closer to the horizon, just like winter in the states.   However, the thing that knocked off my internal equilibirium is WHICH horizon it ´s closer to.   I was stunned when it finally dawned on me – the north horizion!   I felt like I was in some kind of parallel universe the whole day.   Trippy!

We happened upon a plaza  (going the wrong direction, thanks to my north/south reversal) and  found a popcorn stand.   We went for the salgado (salty), and realized within the first handfaul that the  dark colored chunks were BACON.   It  was weird (why is  EVERYTHING meat flavored here!?), but we ate it anyway.   A pigeon ambled over and started pecking at the meat chunks we ´d tossed out, so we tossed him a piece of popcorn.   Then a little bird came  along about 1/15th of his size and STOLE  his popcorn!   The sneak just  flashed in and out!   We  felt sorry for the poor guy, so we tossed him a few more kernels, and before we  knew it, every SINGLE pigeon within a mile flocked to us.   It was freaky!    It ´s like they have some  kind of system!   So we  quickly dumped out the last handful for the birds and high-tailed it out of there!

When we finally got the the museum, we were in total awe.   The main building is shaped like a giant eye on a pedestal coming right out of  a pond.   It ´s really futuristic; very cool.   The rest of the museum is  up on pillars, so we wandered around  underneath it taking pictures inside these giant  wooden cones and trying to figure out just where we were supposed to buy tickets.   Finally we found someone guarding a door who let us know we just walked two miles for excersise; the museum is closed on Mondays.   Grrrreaaaat.   Cést la vie!   At least we got to  see the outside!

Since we were hungry again, we  started  looking for a restuarant.   But it seems this city has a thing about  Mondays.   Every  enticing establishment we passed was closed!   ARGH!   I ´m so tired of frickin x-salada!   (That ´s a cheeseburger).   But  the only  food  places  open were the regular mom-and-pop  snack shops (which  are EVERYWHERE!) that sell only  fast-food.   YUCK.   After walking another mile or so, we were finally so hungry that we decided to  try out this middle-eastern fast  food chain.   Pat ordered the mini-pizzas (Esfihas), and I got something called a fogazza.   I generally order according to the price/quantity principle so I don ´t end up stuffed with 1/2 my plate still full.   I had my choice of cheese, meat, or romeo and juliet.   Neither cheese nor meat is especially appealing to me, so I went for the third option after the cashier told me it contained cheese and woeihasfalkdjfow.   My price/quantity theory failed me miserably, and I ended up with a giant entreé of deep fried bread stuffed with some kind of sweet cheese and jelly.   I can ´t say it ´s wasn ´t delicious, but I was so stuffed I couldn ´t walk comfortably.   UGH.

The rest of the day consisted of miles and miles of walking.   First to the bus station, then to a plaza with theoretically free internet, then around and around looking for any internet (this town seems a little behind the times as far as that  goes).   I don ´t know how we found this place!

A side note:   through-out our travels so far, I consistently note the differences in travelling-solo and travelling with a partner.   Each has its merits, and I certainly recommend both.   Alone, I had a lot more time to reflect, think, and fully participate in the experience.   When you can focus all of your attention on what ´s going on around you, you notice a heck-of-a-lot more!   However, the really great part about travelling with someone else is it ´s so EASY!   When we get to the bus station, one person can sit with the bags while the other person runs errands.   I don ´t have to carry my backpack to the bathroom and all the ticket counters.   And it ´s awesome to have someone to share all the really cool experiences with.   When you ´re excited and have no one to tell, it ´s definitely different.   Anyway…

Tomorrow is the famous Curitiba to Paranaguá train ride.   We ´re excited!

Brazil 2, Australia 0!!!

Today was our last day in São Paulo (sad!).   We were supposed to leave this morning, but last night…     Well, actually,  I should  begin at the beginning.

Yesterday, Saturday, was our last day of school, which was really sad, because the school is *so* great.   Seriously.   Part of me just wishes  we were just living in one city, studying during the week, and travelling on the weekends.   But, the Amazon is a long way from São Paulo!

Instead of the normal four hour break for eating lunch, doing homework, and running errands, we only had 30 minutes.   The school closes early on Saturdays.   Our last lesson was really fun.   We got to listen to some popular Brazilian music, translate the lyrics, and then we had a sing-a-long!   If you are ever in Brazil and want to learn Portuguese, Spanish, or English, go to this school!

Anyway, after we said our goodbyes, we hiked up to the main  avenue where a giant parade was taking place.   Basically these huge floats built on  a multi-level fire-engine-esque vehicle roll very slowly down the streets blaring loud crazy dance music.   People crowd around the floats and dance their hearts out for miles!   It was a sexual diversity parade, which meant, aside from all the average folk, there were also plenty of elaborately dressed drag queens.   Lots of vendors selling beer rolled along with the crowds as two million people danced up the avenue.   After watching the fun for half-an-hour, we joined the throng for a mile or so.   The street was ridiculously packed; wall to wall people.   It was NUTS!   But really fun.   We danced and laughed and took pictures of the most elaborate floats until we got to the main intersection.

Next we happened upon an internet place.   Blog time!   It was pricey, and, for the first time ever, the guy asked for our I.D.s   I thought he wanted to keep them, so we  were awfully hesitant to hand over our passports (US passports are a hot commodity on the black market).   After much muddled conversation, a patron approached and said, “I speak English.   Go ahead.   What is the problem?”   We explained that we ´d never been asked for I.D. in an internet shop before.   The man behind the counter kept saying it was the law, which was fine by us, but we just wondered why the law only applied in that shop.   Apparently, because of internet crime, internet shops are supposed to record the identification of all users.   If the police come into the shop and someone is using the computer without having their I.D. logged, it ´s a big fine, much like bars carding for underage drinking in the U.S.

After we ran out of time on the net, we tried to find this vegetarian buffett we saw advertised in the shop, but it was closed.   So instead, we went to a bar our teacher had recommended to us.   It was an Irish pub called O ´Malleys, frequented by foreigners.   We decided to treat ourselves to an evening of good food and good beer in celebration of finishing our crash course in Portuguese.   It was our first bar experience in Brasil, and quite interesting.   First of all, it was weird to go to a mostly-English-speaking establishment to celebrate learning Portuguese.   However, it was the only recommendation we had, so better that than some random, weird hang-out we might otherwise stumble into.   Second of all, the payment system for bars is very different than in the U.S.   Instead of handing over cash to your waiter/waitress everytime they bring you food, you are issued a card at the door.   It ´s like a hotel-room key card.   When you order, they put the beer/food/drink on your card.   When you ´re ready to leave, you cash out at the door.   So, it would be really easy to spend way more than you would if you brought $20 and stopped drinking when the money was gone.   If you lose your card, there is a huge fine.   Even if you only drank five or six beers, you have to pay $100-$200 if you can ´t present you card at the door.   Once you pay, they give you a new card… different colored.   The bouncer won ´t let you leave unless you give him one of these cards.   Now that I ´ve seen the system in action, I think it ´s a really great way to do things.   If you ´re a waiter/waitress, you don ´t have to worry about making change, and having to run a credit card, etc.   If you ´re the bar owner, you don ´t have to worry about your employees stealing from you.   The only cultural issue as far as doing this in the U.S. is the tipping factor.   I don ´t know exactly how you ´d work that out.

Anyway, as we were checking out, a young guy in a group of three others asked us in accented English, “Where are you from?”   This is a fun question for us, because we like to find out what judgements other people make based on our appearance.   We made him guess, and he offered up England  and Scotland.   While Pat was answering his questions, I dug in my back pocket for my bar card.   IT WAS GONE!   NO WAY!   Pat paid for almost everything, so I don ´t know how on earth I lost my card.   I walked back to where we had been sitting, and there was a card on the floor, but I wasn ´t so sure it was mine.   It was #1601, a number I am overly familiar with, so I think I ´d remember it.   I started questioning the three guys about what would happen if I lost my card.   They got really excited, saying things like, “Oh no!   This is very bad!   You can ´t lose it!”   I explained about the other card, and decided that even if it wasn ´t mine, I ´d rather pay for $40 worth of someone else ´s beer than pay the $100 fine.   Fortunately, the items on the card matched the things we had ordered and all was well.

We bumped into the three guys outside again, and started talking some more.   We talked about everything from how to swear in Portuguese to the upcoming soccer match the next day.   We found out they were all chemistry students at a university in São Paulo.   They invited us to come to a soccer barbecue the following afternoon, so we decided to push back our departure in order to attend.

The barbecue  was AWESOME.   I ´m so glad we went.   We had SO much fun.   It was such an awesome experience.   The guys came and picked us up at our hotel, so we didn ´t have to stress out about finding yet another new place in the HUGE city.   We packed into a Geo-Metro-sized car crammed full with our luggage, giant Pat, and all the party goods (a couple cases of beer, a few bags of charcoal, mixers galore, and a big bag of buns).   It was a riot!   1/2 an hour later, we showed up at a patio outside a big apartment building.   Things were just getting started.   The barbecue was a different style than the U.S. way.   We didn ´t cook all at once and then eat all at once.   Everytime a piece of meat or a skewer of pork, chicken, beef, and veggies was ready, it would get divided up among two or three people.   The food was DELICIOUS!   Really, to die for.   We had the option of dipping our meat in farofa, a substance that looks like corn meal, but tastes wonderful.   It ´s manioca flour mixed with vegetable oil, onion powder, garlic, and some other spices.   It was awesome.   I hope we can find some in the states!   We also got to try caipirinha (kah-ee-peer-een-yah), a really strong typical Brazilian drink.   I guess it ´s usually made with rum, but ours was with vodka, fresh lime juice, and sugar.   Also wonderful.   One of the girls at the party is going to culinary school, so she treated us to an amazing dessert of… chocolate mousse, I guess.   We got cups, took a few spoonfuls of warm, thick chocolate, and then a few scoops of heavy whipped cream and stirred it together.   This was definitely my favorite eat.

The game itself was pretty intense, and it was really fun to watch the game with people who are so passionate about the sport.   I couldn ´t help but get excited, and soccer is a really amazing sport.   The moves these guys pull in the games are out-of-control.   I ´ve watched at least four or five matches since I ´ve been here, and the injuries and goals are out-of-this world incredible.   I love the replays.   Who needs reality T.V.?

The people we met had to be the best part of the barbecue.   It was a really young crowd, and we spent hours talking about everything from school to food to music.   I wish I would have brought more photos.   I only brought two pictures, both of the coal mine, because it ´s so hard to explain when people ask me what I do.   But I really wish we would have brought photos of our houses and families and schools, etc.

Anyway, now we ´re in a (cheap! finally!) internet cafe burning some time before the midnight bus.   We ´re headed to Curitiba (a colonial city farther south).   We decided to take the latest bus possible for the six hour ride so we wouldn ´t have to pay for a hotel tonight.   We really need to make up for some lost wiggle-room in our budget.   The city is NOT cheap!   Twelve minutes and counting!

24-Hour Tornado

Get ready for the longest entry ever. Or close to it…

Wednesday morning marked day seven for us, which also meant laundry desperation. We had checked out a lavendaria the day before, recommended by our teacher. But to fit it into our day, we had to get up at six so we could start laundry right at seven when they opened. So, freshly showered and half-asleep, we stumble into the laundromat. The woman behind the front counter was *super* nice. With lots of fast, repetitive Portuguese and lot of gesturing, she showed us how to use the machines, where the little sqaure token goes, etc., and we got everything going. We pulled out the remainder of our homework from the night before, but shortly thereafter a wave of nausea swept over me.

Doctor & Laundry Keeper?!

Nausea has been commonplace in the mornings, and no, I am not pregnant. I ´m pretty sure it ´s the doxycyline that we take as a malaria preventative each day. Our doctors told us to take it just in case, even though this is a non-malarial area. After I realized that was what was making me sick, I decided to wait until we head to the jungle areas to start taking it. Anyway… to cure my nausea, Pat got me a soda while I walked around clutching my stomach. When I sat down to drink it, the woman from behind the front counter… (a very sweet, 30-something woman who reminded me of a Bavarian grandmother) bustled over and asked me… well, I don ´t know exactly. Probably asked me if I was sick. Then she grabbed my hand and started massaging the fleshy part by my thumb while instructing me about something. Then she pointed at my orange and (I ´m pretty sure) told me it was bad to eat when I was sick and instead I should have something sweet like my Sprite and also something salty. Then she grabbed my other hand and started talking to Pat… I think explaining to him how to do what she was doing. Suprisingly, my nausea disappeared almost instantly. The amazing world of pressure points! Next, she must have said something about how to fix headache, because all of a sudden she grabbed my head, pulled it tight againt her bosom, and started pressing her palms against my skull, the whole time talking talking talking… maybe to Pat. Or maybe to me. Then she sat me back up and grabbed onto my ears and started slowly tugging on my earlobes and then pulling up on the tops of my ears. Then, in more mid-speed Portuguese, she said something else, pointed at her stomach, and then bent over and poked her finger into the opening in the side of my sandal and started massaging the arch of my foot, the whole time going on and on about… ??? Finally she moved back to my hands and told Pat to do each hand for five minutes. Then she said, “Ok?” And we said, “Sim. Muita Obrigada!” (Yes, thank you very much!) and she left. You ´d think I ´d be totally weirded out by a stranger coming up to me, grabbing all different parts of my body and speaking (what was to me mostly) gibberish, but it helped so much that I could only laugh and be grateful.

Our laundry took much longer to dry than expected, and we left with only 20 minutes to spare. We knew we ´d be late if we walked, so we decided to take the subway. *big mistake* Because guess what everyone else does on Wednesday mornings. *Bingo!* They take the subway,too! It was jam-packed, and we were carrying a big bag of laundry… so funny. We always had to wait at least one round to get on the car, and there was mad traffic everywhere. We ended up being half an hour late to school and probably walking the same distance as if we had just walked directly from the laundromat. C ´est la vie!

Our classes are really unique, because the school doesn ´t normally have two crazy Americans show up on their doorstep wanting to take a week-long crash course in Portuguese. It ´s very personal, which I love. For example, on the laundry day, when we finally got to class, I dumped out the clothes we had crammed into the laundry bag and spent the first half of class folding laundry while going over our homework. Also, we got to go to lunch, as I mentioned, with the director and our teacher. It was really delicious! We got to try the typical Brazilian dish – feijão – a black bean and pork mixture over rice. It was good, but definitely not healthy. And it was really nice to finally be at a restaurant with people who can understand and answer our questions. We definitely picked up some valuable information about eating and food in Brazil.

Wednesday afternoon, we got an email from the bookstore guy saying he ´d be there at six if we wanted to meet him, so we headed to Fnac after class. We shared beer and peanuts and talked for a few hours. He ´s a really cool guy, and it ´s super helpful to listen to him form sentences in English, because then we understand the proper way to say things in Portuguese. For example, in Portuguese, you don ´t say, “I am 36 years old.” If you did, people would look at you funny. You have to say, “I have 36 years.” It ´s very easy to be misunderstood when you don ´t know little things like this.

Thursday was our day off from school and we got to sleep in before we went to the park. We spent part of the morning bickering somewhat. It ´s so much harder to be patient when you ´re in a place where the stress of the unfamiliar is almost constant. Like Pat was saying the other night, travelling like this is basically a game of non-stop problem solving. Both of us spend all day trying desperately to be understood and to understand others, so when the one person who should easily understand you says, “Hmmm?” for the sixth time in ten minutes after you ´ve said something really simple in ENGLISH like, “Are you hungry?” it ´s sort of like the straw that broke the camel ´s back. But, that which doesn ´t kill you only makes you stronger, right? Aside from that, Pat and I have been getting along fabulously.

Friday was the inspiration for this blog title. The day just got crazier and crazier! We moved our afternoon class up an hour, because I guess people don ´t really study on Friday ´s here. So the school was open, but only so parents could come and conference, etc. During our lunch break, we went to a place to get notarized copies of our passports, which we decided later was entirely unnecessary and a waste of money. I just hope they come in handy later on. We also went to the supermarket to buy more bread (50 ¢ for an Italian round!). Out of curiosity, and because I know “Nacho Cheese Doritos” taste nothing like the U.S. version in any other country, we decided to pick a brand and flavor of potato chips to try. Here, the ruffles flavors are turkey, shrimp, and barbeque. We chose the BBQ so we could compare it to the stuff back home… it was *nothing* like the BBQ we ´re used to. The chips looked like plain old Ruffles (no colored powder) and tasted like smoked pork. Weird!

Brazilian Ruffles! I couldn’t find a picture of the weirder ones… like shrimp flavor…

Our afternoon class was pretty funny. We were practicing restaurant scenarios with our teacher, with him playing the role of the server. Well, when it came around to dessert, Pat ordered ice cream. Our teacher asked him how many scoops he wanted and then asked me if wanted dessert. I ordered ice cream as I normally would, but I wasn ´t sure how many scoops to get. I mean, if it ´s a big scoop, then I only want one or two. But if it ´s a little scoop, then I want three or four. Because I don ´t know how to say, “what size are the scoops?” I just asked if they were big or small. Well, our teacher got this kind of freaked-out/ confused look on his face. It took a few seconds and a little explanation (“You can ´t ask that!”) for me to understand that the word for scoops- “bolas” -doesn ´t actually mean “scoops.” And because the verb conjugation for “you” and “it” are the same, “are the `scoops ´ big or small?” could easily be interpreted as “are your `scoops ´ big or small?” I laughed for a two minutes straight!

Friday after class, we decided to run around and do the chores we had left to do in the city. The major one was going to the shopping mall to inquire about a buying a hostel card (if you have one you get a cheaper rate at affiliated hostels, but it ´s only worth it if you use it at least ten times) and finding a swimsuit for me (it ´s been years since I ´ve owned one. Who needs their own when you ´ve got a mom, two sisters, and plenty of friends?)

We got directions from our instructor and set out on the 2-3 mile walk to yet another new area of the city. We decided just to walk because (1) riding the bus costs money and we ´re on a pretty tight budget, and (2) we don ´t understand the bus system. We ´re afraid we ´d get on a bus and end up in Costa Rica. After walking at least two miles, we decided to ask someone if we were getting close. She said (in Portuguese of course), “Oh, yeah. It ´s just a few more kilometers. (!!!) Go over the bridge and just keep going down the street.” Well, the bridge had several exit points, so we asked another woman once we were on it, and she told us, “Oh, yes. Just take a bus right down there.” Since the last woman had said it was still at least another mile or two, we decided to spring for the expense. However, we just got on a bus that had the shopping mall ´s name on it and didn ´t let the attendant know where we were going. You see, you don ´t have to tell them, but if you ask “Does this bus go to Eldorado?” when it clearly says “Eldorado” on the front of the bus, then they are likely to realize you have no idea what you ´re doing and are just a crazy, helpless tourist, and then they let you know when to get off. So, while being smushed and bumped in the packed, standing-room-only bus, we frantically consulted eachother about just what the hell we were doing. In case we had already passed the mall, which was entirely possible, we didn ´t want to ask someone where the mall was and therefore let it be known to the entire bus that we were clueless tourists (read: crime targets). So, we decided to just get off and ask someone on the street. Fortunately, the spot we chose to squeeze off the bus was only 1/4 of a mile from the mall, and our stress level plummeted back towards normal.

However, once we were there, problems began again. I couldn ´t find where I had written down the name of the hostel information booth, the shopping mall was huge -five floors, and we had no idea where to begin. By some miracle, we found the hostel booth, bought some pretzels, and managed to get a recommendation for a store that sold swimsuits… all in Portuguese!

Itsy-Bitsy-Teeny-Weeny

I knew before I even set foot in the swimsuit store that it was going be a misadventure. You see, the top half of me is considerably larger than the bottom half. So, in the bra/bikini department, I spend hours trying fruitlessly to get something to fit. In broken Portuguese, I started looking at suits with a girl who finally asked me what languages I spoke. When I said English or Spanish, she ran to get a guy who spoke English, which ended up being a huge help. The first suit I tried on barely even covered my bum. I felt like I belonged at the Sturgis rally. When I stepped out of the dressing room and said, “Ummm… I think it ´s too small…,” the attendant said, “No, it is like this in Brazil. I think you won ´t find bigger.” And he was right! This country brings new meaing to itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny-bikini. After 70 minutes and 17 different combinations and styles, we finally found one that would pass. I don ´t know if I ´ll be able to brave a public pool in the U.S. wearing the scraps of fabric I bought, though.

brazilian bikini, brazil bikini, bikini butt

This is the most butt-coverage you’ll find in Brazil. You don’t want to see the least! – photo: wikipedia

New bikini in hand, we headed to the Casa da Pão de Queijo (House of Cheese Bread!)for dinner before once again braving the bus situation. After about fifteen minutes, we finally found a bus to the centro, and I was smart enough to double check with the attendant this time. We got dropped off really near our hotel and started cramming homework the minute we walked through the door.

What a night!

I Think My Legs Just Fell Off

I think we walked a jazillion miles today.   Probably more like six miles, but we were on our feet the entire day.   Don ´t get me wrong; I ´m having a great time, but I just want to pass out right now.

Anyway… for those of you who don ´t know, today is Corpus Christi, a major Catholic holiday, and therefore a major Brazilian holiday.   So, we had the day off from school, got to sleep in, spent the whole morning relaxing and writing in our journals (the pen and paper ones), and then went to Parque Ibierapuera – basically São Paulo ´s version of central park.   We had to walk about two miles to get there, because there are no subway stops anywhere near the  park, and we didn ´t want to deal with the stress of  figuring out  how to use the bus  system.  The park was crazy, crawling with people, no maps anywhere, and giant sidewalks twisting their way across acres and acres of giant trees and sprawling lawns.   We wandered aimlessly, found a buffett style restaurant, wandered aimlessly again, found a modern art museum, debated about whether to spring for the expense, decided to go for it, found out it was free for the day when we asked where to pay, and then walked all the way back to the subway (two more miles).   That pretty much brings us to now.

Points of interest were:

(1) All the skyscrapers!   We ´ve never been this far south in the city before and STILL the skyscrapers go on forever and ever.   This city has no skyline like New York or Chicago because it just keeps on going.   Imagine standing on a hill looking twenty miles into the distance and all you see is skyscrapers, clear up to the horizon.   Then you pick out the biggest one on the horizon, walk to it, and STILL all you can see is more skyscrapers all the way to the next horizon.   This is such a different life.   It ´s crazy!

(2) The rollerbladers.   Although rollerblading seems to have been an early 90 ´s fad in the U.S., it ´s still going strong here.   They were everywhere in the park.   And in supermarkets!   They have staff rollerblading all over the store!   As we were leaving the park, this bus came roaring down the street, and I just happened to glance over as it passed us.   Four men on rollerblades were clinging to the back of this bus that was going at least 30mph in heavy city traffic!   Nuts!

(3) The coconut novelty.   We always see vendors selling “coco water” on the streets, but we ´ve never braved the stress of trying it.   Well, today we did!   The catch is, the aren ´t brown, hairy coconuts.   They ´re giant greenish-yellow fruits the size of your head.   They hack off the tip until just a tiny opening is created and then stick straws in.   We were dissapointed because it didn ´t taste like anything, but it was still neat!

4) The wild Amazonian trees.   Not just in the park, but all over the city, there are these strange trees with smooth bark and giant leaves the texture of an aloe vera plant.   The craziest thing about them is the root system.   All the branches sort of sprout roots that just start growing in midair until the reach the ground.   Once it reaches the ground, it goes into the soil, so you end up with an exoitc tree looking like it surrounded by stalacties (cave formations).

5) Vending machines of literature: In almost every subway station there is a minimum of one book vending machine.   What a novel idea! (no pun intended.)   You put in your money, select A4, and then start in on the DaVinci Code.

6) The women here.   Women here are astoudingly small.   Not just skinny, because they don ´t really have that starved-Kate-Moss look.   They ´re just teeny.   I would say 30-40% of them can ´t weigh more than 100 pounds, and another 30% can ´t be more than 115/20.

Anyway… onto yesterday.   Or back to yesterday.   Or whatever.   I just want to catch up.

Monday night after class we went to this huge bookstore to buy a pocket Portuguese/English dictionary.   When we picking one out, this guy standing next to us looking at English grammar books tried to ask us if his book was a good one to buy to learn English.   But since we don ´t really speak Portuguese, and he wasn ´t fluent in English, we had to struggle to understand each other.   Well, I thought, if he wants to learn Eng. and we want to learn Port., why not invite him to dinner and practice!   So we had a very intresting, some what difficult, but really fun evening of trying to make ourselves understood while eating at a wonderful pizza buffett.   One of the best meals we ´ve had since we ´ve been here!

On Tuesday we were supposed to meet up with him again, but we still hadn ´t gotten an email back from him by 5:00 when class was over, so we just decided to walk home before it got dark.   Like I said, Tuesday was Brazil ´s soccer game against Croatia, which was going on during our walk home.   The whole walk was like one of those dreams you have when you wake up and you ´re the only person left in the world.   Even the HUGE avenues… like 5th Av. in New York, or the Golden Gate Bridge, or downtown Chicago… were completely deserted.   Except every once in awhile you ´d pass an entrance to a bar or something and there would be lots of people packed around a television set screaming.   And there were lots of random barbecue grills on corners not being tended to, but still cookin ´up a storm!   When we got back to the centro, we realized why everyone thinks its such a scary place.   All the people who care about soccer were somewhere else watching the game, which left just the homeless folk who have bigger problems to worry about.

Oh… we just got told the internet place is closing.   Well, closed five minutes ago.   Guess I ´ll write more tomorrow!

A Hundred Year Old House

We never have time for internet!   Seriously.   We go to school from 9-11, eat lunch from 11-12, and we have only an hour to check email, travel site, etc.   Then from 1-3 we have to study, 3-5 is class, and at five we have to walk home because the shortest route to the centro goes right through the prositution district.   Our teacher said they “start” at eight, but just to be safe we want to be out of there before it gets dark.   Since it ´s winter here, that means about 6/6:30.   I think after this week of school our blogs will be extremely long for awhile just to catch up.

Our classes (aulas) are going great!   Really, our teacher is great and he brings really useful handouts     The atmosphere here is incredible.   The school is in a really old house (early 1800s) with amazing vaulted ceilings, beautiful, huge, arches of stained glass in the windows, ancient but well-cared-for wood floors, and really great staff.   Internet is free here, and they ´re letting us use their kitchen so we don ´t always have to eat fruit and crackers for breakfast.

The study room where we study every day from 1-3, and sometimes 5-?
One of my favorite classrooms. There are at least seven.

The school from the outside at night

Today, the  director of the school and our teacher  are taking us out to a popular form of restaurant.   It ´s like a buffett, but instead of “all you can eat” it ´s by weight (per kilo).   So, there is set price for a kilo of food, you fill your plate, they weigh it, and then…??? ´We ´ll find out the rest today.   I ´m excited!   This is the kind of thing that we ´re not brave enough to try on our own.   Well… brave is the wrong word.   We would try, but there is no way we ´d understand such a completely different cultural/food practice, so we don ´t even try.   I mean, we have problems even when we go to regular restaurants figuring out wether to wait to be seated, seat yourself, order at the counter and then sit, order at the counter and take your ticket to another place and then sit…   It ´s crazy!   We should record our conversations.   It would be really funny.

“What are we supposed to do?”

“I don ´t know.   Do you think we go up to the counter?”

“I don ´t know.   What are the other people doing?”

“I don ´t know.   There isn ´t anyone else trying to get food.”

“Well, should we try to order at the counter?”

“Maybe we should sit down.”

“I don ´t know.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“I don ´t know.”

“Oh look!   There!   That guy!”

“Yeah, it looked like he just sat down.”

“Okay, let ´s try that.”

HILARIOUS.

Oh… p.s.   GROSS story.   So, you remember the guy who semi-conned us into buying all the fruit at the farmers market the other day?   Well, we ate the mangos, but when I was first peeling mine, I noticed it had an extra stem.   I thought it was some kind of weird genetic mutation, so I thought nothing of it and forgot about it.   When I got to the extra stem area, I bit through it and this really bitter taste filled my mouth.   I pulled back and spit it out and examined the stem.   It was hard and dark on the outside and soft and white on the inside.   It was a frickin ´bug!   Like a centipede with lots of little legs going from the outside of the mango all the way to the seed!     UGGGGGHHHH!   I was pretty grossed out, but I had to keep eating it because it was the only food we had.   So, as nausea consumed me, I choked the rest of it down, but I really had to talk myself into the next mango I ate the following day.

Anyway… have I talked about the coffee here?   I don ´t think so.   It ´s so strong.   Not just black like coffee in the U.S., but STRONG.   So strong that there are only two sizes of cups.   One is about the size of a disposable bathroom cup, and the second (my size) is about the same size as one of those little paper cups that you put ketchup in at fast food restaurants.   It ´s really sweet, so you drink it straight.   I drank three my-size cups (so about a shot glass and 1/2 of coffee) yesterday, and I almost died.   I mean, I don ´t drink coffee as it is in the U.S., so one cup is plenty for me there.   And the little paper ketchup cup here is apparently equal to one coffee-cup full in the U.S.   After one, I ´m really hyper.   After three tiny shots I was shaking and nauseous and sweaty and jittery.     And everyday after morning class, when I ´m jumping around and poking Pat, he always tells me, “Jema!   No more coffee!”

Anyway… time for the per kilo lunch buffet!

Até mais!

Onde é fica a toalete?

So finally we are learning Portuguese!   It ´s so nice to be able to somewhat communicate with people instead of just defaulting to Spanish and/or “Ummm…”

I think our teacher, Fabían, might be somewhat frustrated with me because I am an impatient learner.   (Well, really just impatient in general.)   I want to know everything all at once and I ask a *ton* of questions.   I ´m that annoying kid in class who raises their hand all the time to ask seemingly impertinent questions (What!?   I ´m curious!).   My friend Cara always told me, “Jema, questions are for office hours.”   I think because Portuguese is so similar to Spanish, I tend to get ahead of the material.   If we were talking about life cycles of butterflies instead of Portuguese, Fabían would be telling us about caterpillars and I would be asking how long a butterfly lives after it hatches out of it ´s cocoon… that sort of thing.   So, I am trying to choose my questions wisely.

Today Brazil ´s international soccer team is playing in the world cup.   Just like the rest of the world, this country is soccer-crazy.   (They call it futebol/football.)   It ´s kind of weird how almost every other country you go to is NUTS about soccer.   The British are soccer maniacs.   Argentinians are even crazier.   People routinely get KILLED at soccer games – like fans from opposing teams going bananas on eachother.   Referees and players often get seriously injured by fans jumping out of the stands and attacking them for a bad call or a bad play.   One soccer player got killed in a bar in some South American country a few years ago because he accidently scored  the winning  goal for the other team.   And this happened in a city like New York or Chicago or Minneapolis – so don ´t be thinking this is just some backwards third-world country.   Anyway, so our teacher told us that after 3 p.m. today (which will be 11am (pac.), noon (mtn.) for you guys), the whole country basically shuts down and no one does anything but watch the soccer game.   Should be interesting!

Although we ´ve been studying like crazy for the past two days (Monday and Tuesday – or segunda-feira é tercer-feira), Sunday was relaxing.   Well… kind of.   We practiced our 45 min. walk to school, but it took us about an hour and a half because we got lost.   We thought we were *really* lost, but turns out we just kept walking in circles around the same neighborhood.   Two reasons this happened.   #1 – the streets on the map aren ´t always for people.   Sometimes it ´s cars only.   Also, the elevation of the streets aren ´t shown.   So we come to an intersection heading south.   But if you want to keep going south, you have to jump off a bridge onto the road forty feet below.   So, you must improvise – find a way around.   But, you must do this without asking for help or getting directions, because you don ´t know how to ask or to understand what is said.   #2 reason is that in other countries (maybe this is only true for latin and south america, but it is *very* true here) they aren ´t near as uptight about organizing things.   Sometimes a restaurant or hotel ´s address is simply the street it ´s on, or the nearest cross street.   Like Washtington and 3rd.   Or just Washington.   Except the names are wildly unfamiliar, like Avenida Joaquim Eugenia de Lima (yes, that ´s just one street)  and Avenida Luis R. Brigadero.   And there is no 1st, 2nd, 3rd street.   The only time the streets have numbers is when they ´re named after an important day.   Like 4th of July Street or December 25th Avenue.   And another part of the second reason we got lost is because the streets don ´t have the same name all the way through.   Same in México, Argentina, Perú, etc.   So for example, if you have a street in the U.S. that ´s five miles long, the whole street, start to finish, is the same name.   Let ´s say Palm Drive.   Not here.   Instead, it would be Palm Drive for the first 10-20 blocks, then it would be called Kendrick Ave., then it would be called Pearl Street, and then it would be called, Constitution Drive, and then it would be called Lancaster Blvd.   So, when we were walking back and forth, up and down, and in circles for twenty mintues looking for Rua dos Ingleses, we actually crossed it several times.   Only at that point it was called Avenida Luis B Parreto.   AHHHHCK!     Nonetheless, we found the school and moved on to the Liberdade (Japanese part of the city) to get some delicious and long-anticipated Yakisoba.   We also spent awhile walking around this great outdoor market – lots of unique and beautiful crafts… kind of like the Eugene/Portland Saturday markets, and nothing like a flea market.

Edificio Copan again – view from the ground up!

A couple more things I have noticed about São Paulo…

First of all, sex is everywhere.   Seriously.   I mean, I know it ´s everywhere in any big city, but here they don ´t have laws about keeping the naughty stuff under wraps and out of the view of children and easily offended folk.   So everytime we walk past a sex theater or a sex shop, I always do a double-take at the big, naked butts being thrust in your face and the nipple-pasties everywhere.   Also, in the neighborhood we ´re staying in, there are TONS of street vendors.   It ´s like a constant flea market everyday.   It reminds me of the heiniously busy streets/alleyways of Bejing that I ´ve seen on T.V.   They just lay a blanket down on the sidewalk and spread out their fare… earrings, toys, CDs, belts, knives, shoes, and often DVDs with loud, lewd pictures of naked folk on the cover.   It ´s quite shocking.   Also, about the neighborhood we ´re staying in… it ´s kind of funny.   We go to school in the yuppie neighborhood, but we ´re staying in the Centro, which is more of a mixture of classes.   Everyone in the yuppie neighborhood gets this wide-eyed look when we tell them where we ´re staying, and they tell us to be *very* careful and that it ´s *very* dangerous.   (Mom, Grandmas, etc. DON ´T WORRY!)   It ´s funny because it ´s not really dangerous at all.   I mean, it ´s just as dangerous as any city.   But it ´s not like a ghetto or something.   There are always lots of people walking around, and there are plenty of men in suits, and nicely dressed women carrying their purses lax… at their sides, etc.   The reason the people in the yuppie neighborhood think it ´s dangerous is the same reason peope from Manhattan (in New York) think the Bronx is dangerous.

Also about São Paulo – I ´ve never been in a city that ´s such a melting pot of cultures.   Sure New York has a big mixture of people, but it ´s still a dominant-white, upper/middle class  culture, if not a dominant white city.   But here, everywhere we go, be it yuppie neighborhood, centro, Japanese neighborhood, or anywhere in between, everywhere I look it ´s like one of those quintessential American commercials full of purposeful ethnic and gender diversity.   It ´s impressive and really nice.   Usually in  a foreign city  I can tell people are staring at me or noticing me, but here I feel like I fit in because there is no mold.

Okay… final city observation: gasoline is *so* expensive here!   We think we ´ve got it bad in the U.S. at $2.50-$3/gal (by the way, how are gas prices now that summer has arrived?).   Here it ´s $R2.40 a liter, which is $R9.60 a gallon, so  after the exchange it ´s USD $4.80 a gallon.   Holy crap.

Something I am excited about is the architechture we are going to get to see on this trip.   Brazil has a really famous architecht named Oscar Neimeyer (something like that… I ´ll have to look up the spelling of the last name).   So far we have seen only one of his buildings, but it definitely lives up to the hub-bub.   It was called Edificio Copan and it was a giant skyscraper about 2x ´s as wide as it was tall, and 10x ´s as wide as it was… deep (?), and looked like a huge flag billowing in the wind.   Or, if you ´re a nerd like me, it looked like a cross section of a sin/cos wave.

Edificio Copan – doesn’t show the curvature as well, but still awesome!

I know I ´ve already yammered plenty, but I still have more I want to write about.   Time for lunch and study, though   – will write more later!

Point, Grunt, Laugh, Smile… (whatever it takes!)

Although I don ´t believe in traveling in foreign countries with expensive things like video cameras, sometimes I really wish we had one.   Because it would be *so* funny to show everyone back home what it ´s like just to try and get a meal or god forbid… check into a hotel when you don ´t speak the language.   Hilarious!

Example – yesterday, after we left the internet café, we happened across an ice cream vendor.   YUM!   I ´ve decided it ´s best to start each interaction with “Não falo portugês.   Você fala inglês o espanhol?” – I don ´t speak  Portuguese.   Do you speak  English or  Spanish?   Usually whomever we are speaking to gets this sort of “oh-crap-I-don ´t-think-I-can-help-you” look, and I just start speaking in  Spanish and hope they get what I mean.   However at the ice cream machine, next to the woman serving, was a young man on the sidewalk.   He jumps up and starts shouting/blurting out random things in English: “You no speak Portuguese, eh!?   Ha ha ha ha!   You like!!  *gestures at ice cream*   Good, good!   Hey!   This kind!   *gestures towards syrup flavors*    Hey!   Hey!   Mmmm!!!   You like!   Ha ha ha ha ha!   Okay!   One Reais (their currency)!   Ha ha ha ha!   One!   Chocolate!!!”     SO funny… we laughed for the next block.   And the ice cream was delicious!

That night we decided to hunt for the grocery store for dinner.   We found our way, but it was located in a shopping center.   We passed a Sushi place first and ended up each  indulging our Sushi-tooth.   After puzzling over the portuguese menu for four or five minutes, the waiter walked up.   This kind of situation is always a panic moment for both of us; we know we won ´t know what they ´re saying and won ´t know how to tell them that.   So they say, “asdfij aklsdnmf lçiha sfnaw ioçdhjtoij”   And we say, “uh….”   Turns out the guy spoke excellent English, explained the menu, and hooked us up with some incredible sushi AND free beer!   It was *so* good, and cheaper than the U.S.   Still out of our budget range, though, so we made up for it the next day by eating eggs, bread (not toast), and liquid yogurt for both breakfast and lunch.

Today was the day of getting up early, researching trip options, and further exploring language-school options.   The first place we found, the receptionist only spoke Portuguese, and a resident spoke both Portuguese and Spanish, so we had this really funny chain of translating going on.   The receptionist would tell Hosana, Hosana would tell me, and I would tell Pat.   Then Pat would tell me, I would tell Hosana, and Hosana would tell the receptionist.   The second place had a guy who spoke (and taught) English, so that was much easier, and they gave us a better price.   Next week is going to be a major brain blow-out.   We are going to spend all day from 8-8 studying, going to class, and doing homework.   It ´s okay to go to school all day when you study different things.   I hope we can handle the same subject for 12 hours!

We ´ve moved hostels.   The last place we stayed at – Pousada dos Franceses – was about $5 more a night than Hotel Joamar where we are staying now.   The bonus was the Pousada had a kitchen where we could cook our own meals (usually cheaper), but hardly any dishes/pans and they weren ´t very friendly.   I think it was more of a residential place, because people had their names on shelves and lockers and there were lots of signs telling you not to use a certain frigde or cupboard or bathroom or set of dishes.     “For Pousada Only” ~- which we finally understood meant “do not use” after the lady picked up Pat ´s bread cutting dish and put it away three times.   Joamar is cheaper and really ritzy – the bathroom is glorious… all 12×12 tile floor to ceiling with a real shower!   And the room is really nice as well.   And the front desk people are really nice.

About the shower bit – my experience is that showers in South America in general are very different than showers in the U.S.   For one, they usually don ´t have curtains.   Most the time it ´s just a shower head coming out of the wall/ceiling with lukewarm water.   In the case of the Pousada, the Bathroom was a tiny 3×5 room.   To take a shower, you stood in front of the toilet like a man would, made sure the toilet lid was closed, and then turned on the water.   Of course the whole bathroom gets soaked.   Fortunately you have a convenient squee-gee in the corner to push all the water towards the drain.   Really, now that I think about it, the bathroom was more like a large shower stall  complete with toilet.   Fortunately for Pat, most of the shower heads are mounted really high up on the wall or in the ceiling.   He ´s 6 ´7″ and doesn ´t fare well under most U.S. shower heads, to say the least.

Last but not least was our farmer ´s market adventure.   We were hunting down a hotel recommended to us by our language-school and after ten minutes of searching with our packs on our backs through the bustling city (we were moving hostels) we decided to give up.   On our way back, though, we saw this market full of delicious fruits and vegetables and somehow ended up getting talked into three mangos and two pinhas.   I don ´t know what a pinha is either.   But this vendor just kept barking at us in Portuguese and handing us pieces of fruit to try.   Meanwhile another guy is trying to edge in on the sale by dangling grapes inches in front of Pat ´s face.   The first vendor could tell I sort of understood him, so he just kept shouting out different bargains – telling me to tell Pat the prices.   We kept saying no, and he kept going lower and shouting in Portuguese, “Tell him!   Tell him I say 5 for 15!   Tell him!   5 for 15!   Should be 20!   Tell him that!   Should be 20, I say 15!   Tell him!   Tell him!”   The pinhas are a really exotic, but awesome fruit.   So delicious, like a mix between mango and pineapple with a fuzzy texture.   They look like an artichoke but the skin is sealed and tough/leathery – kind of like an orange peel.   There are fat black seeds – like a giant watermelon seed and each is surrounded by a glob of fruit.   Okay… I found a picture!   They were mondo bueno!

a giant bowl of pinhas. I wonder if you can get them in the U.S.

Anyway… our plan for tomorrow is to go to an Asian market in the Liberade district (the biggest population of Japanese outside of Japan) and to start studying the tools in our Brazilian Portuguese phrase book to prepare ourselves for class on Monday!

Madness (and Serenity)

So we arrived yesterday morning and finally got to our hostel at noon.   I ´ve never really experienced jet lag before, but holy crap was it bad.   We set the alarm for 1:30 and didn ´t wake up until 6.   **oops!**   We thought after that, we ´d only need five or six hours that night.   Wrong again.   We meant to get up at 6:30 (yes, a.m.), but somehow managed to sleep until 10.

And this not-knowing-Portuguese stuff is just not going to fly.   We ´re limping by on those who speak English and my Spanish, but both Pat and I are desperate to get some language under our belts.   And yet, instead of finding a language school, we ´ve spent most the day touring the city and seeing the sights.   I ´m having a great time, and it ´s really fun watching Pat ´s reactions to the city.   I ´ve been in several big cities and  am finally comfortable with the hustle/bustle/smells/lights/honking/subways/jumble of foreign language, but watching Pat reminds me of my first time in a huge foreign city.   It really makes your head spin, and it ´s really stressful because you ´re always on high alert and kind of scared.   It ´s hard to slow down and be excited when you ´re trying desperately not to get lost.

Last night was *really* funny – perfect reason we need to learn Portuguese.  We went out for dinner with no real direction.   We were just going to find the metro for the next day and stop at an eatery.   Well, the food place we picked wasn ´t a restaurant.   After observing the crowd and getting stared at for five minutes, we finally figured out that you pay at one counter and then take your ticket to the other.   The hitch is that no one waits their turn – at the second counter you just thrust your ticket at one of the workers, say something in Portuguese, and they take it and get your food.   Well, of course we didn ´t figure this out for awhile, and we were incapable of asking anyone what was going on, so we just kind of stood there while 10-15 changing faces milled around us.   Finally we got up the nerve to get one of the workers to take our ticket, not really sure what was going to happen next.   The end result was two delicious sandwhiches, but getting them was hilarious.

Today, like I said, we slept in four hours past the alarm, so there went the game plan of checking out cheaper hostels and moving to the centro before our noon check-out time.   Instead we just checked out cheaper hostels – we found a way nicer hotel for $5 less (which is a lot on our budget) in the centro, so we ´re moving tomorrow morning.

Next we battled the language barrier to get lunch and try to find our way up to the Banespa Tower to overlook the town.   The elevators were broken (or at least that was my estimation of the translation to Spanish and then English), so we ended up just going to the two beautiful churches.   São Bento Church was the prettiest (I thought) – with an organ containing 6,000 pipes!   The Metropolitan Cathedral was incredibly majestic   – but I didn ´t think the interior was as beautiful or as ornate.

catedral metropolitana - really amazing architechture

We have talked about moving on to a smaller city to take Portuguese lessons to save money (everything is more expensive in cities), but it might be easier just to stay here and ride the subway everywhere.   Also – I hope we don ´t have to wait the whole weekend to arrange lessons.

Tomorrow… who knows?   Maybe we will rent bikes and go ride around their version of Central Park?   Or maybe we ´ll get on a bus?   Or maybe we ´ll spend five hours in an intensive Portuguese class?   Can ´t wait!