Minority Status

Today I realized that I am a minority.

I walked into school today and decided to count how many people I saw who did not have brown eyes. By the time I walked into my classroom, my count was at zero. I think I might have seen one person who had colored eyes, but other than that everyone I looked at definitely had brown eyes. It's funny because I have darker skin than some of them, but I definitely stand out as the most caucasian. In one of my classes I am the only person who doesn't have dark brown to black hair.

You can tell Cariocas from their eyes. Even the convincing blondes here have dark eyes. The further south (further away from the equator) you get, you get more caucasians. Even in Sao Paulo, which is only an hour away by plane, about 15% of my Paulista friends were blonde haired and blue eyed. Not so here.

Saturday I was in a club and a Carioca saw me from a distance, walked up to me and said in English, "You're a gringa, aren't you?" (Gringa here isn't offensive, by the way) I laughed and said yes, and he responded, "You're probably the only foreigner in this club. I always know how to spot them."

Also, I have noticed that when I straighten my hair I look much more like a gringa than when my hair is curly. It makes no sense (especially because Brazilians straighten their hair when they go out and many Brazilians have naturally straight hair anyway) but I have noticed that people can pick me out easier as a foreigner when I have straight hair.

Well, I guess this is just further proof that I need to buy a pair of the amazing fitting Brazilian jeans that I see all the girls wearing. Sure, it won't make my eyes any darker, but at least my butt will look more Brazilian. One step at a time, right?

Lost and Found

It has happened here many times here in Rio de Janerio where I want very badly to find something specific but have no idea where to find it and then I get lost on my way to find something else that doesn't matter as much to me. When this happens I find exactly I was looking for in the first place (pretty much every single time I get lost this happens to me! And this is a huge city! Could Rio de Janeiro be magical?) It happened again today.

(I didn't bring my camera and none of these photos belong to me, fyi)

I was watching a Snoop Dog music video 2 days ago because it was set in Rio, when I saw it.

Around 2 minutes and 15 seconds in, they introduce the place that is pictured at top. I saw the amazing building and immediately I wanted to go there. But where was it? Was it even open to the public? I didn't know what it was called and didn't know how to look it up- and only hoped that someday I would be able to see it in person.

Today I decided to go to the botanical gardens. I took the bus there and got off at the huge gates. I entered and realized... that I had gone to the wrong park. Oh well, this one (Parque Lage) was gorgeous. I walked around and entered this beautiful old looking building.

It was filled with artwork which I gazed at before walking through an arch and seeing, to my great surprise, this in front of me.

No. Way. No. Way.

I couldn't help but smile.

Ode to a Paulista

Dear Rodrigo from São Paulo,

There were many things about you that I found fantastic. I especially appreciated it when, after my Marine Corps friend failed to keep that one forward guy away from me, you so smoothly grabbed my arm and with one look got him off of me for the rest of the night. Just for that you became my hero.

But it was when you asked me to dance that you gave me a reason to remember you always.

You led me to the very center of the club and there, lost in the faceless masses we danced. A really good song started playing and I closed my eyes, lost in the moment. I got self conscious so I opened my eyes and looked at you.

My God. There you were, magnificence personified. In the glow of the strobe lights you flashed before me, eyes closed, dancing as if nothing else existed but this song. That this very moment held within it your entire life, and that life was incredibly, incredibly happy.

And so I closed my eyes too, and let the song become me, and together we became mirages under the strobe lights.

Sometimes when I am listening to amazing songs at night your face flashes in front of me, and I smile and know that my life is a little better because of you.

Host Family

I have a host brother named Pedro.

You already know you're jealous.

Today I am going to introduce my host family.

Let's start with my momma. Her name is Marta and she is the perfect mom. She does my laundry for me and makes sure that I have everything I need. She is a very nice lady and when ever I need anything she is more than willing to help me out. I don't have a curfew and if I come home at 5 in the morning, she'll simply ask me if I had a good night the next day. She has really helped me with my portuguese and takes care of me like a mother would.

Next up is my host sister Carolina. She is gorgeous and really nice. Whenever she goes out with her friends she invites me along and always makes sure that I am included in everything. She is always friendly and chill, and I like her.

I also have a great dane named Mirrah (pronounced MEE-HAW). She looks like a cow because she's got big black and white spots all over herself. She's giant and if she is in the doorway it's like a horse is blocking me from entering the next room. I am so happy to be living with a dog!

And of course, there's Pedro. He's my favorite. He looks straight-up from the hood, with really short hair and clothes two sizes too big. In the shower, instead of singing he raps. He does grafitti and when I walk around Larangeiras I can recognize his marks. He makes his own rap music and recently showed me some of it- and it's really, really good. He is also one of the nicest people I have ever met in my life. The first night I met him we were hanging out in his room and he told me, "I want to give you some of my art. If you see anything in this room that you like, tell me and I will give it to you." I pointed to his grafitti art of the favelas, and without hesitation he took it off of his wall and handed it to me. The next night when Eric (guy who no longer lives here) ate my sandwich, he called the restaurant and ordered me a new one. When I watch tv with him he turns on closed captioning for me so I will understand it better. He always looks out for me and is the perfect big brother.

So there you have it, my new host family. I adore them and I wouldn't choose any other host family in the world over them.

Dear Diary, Entry 2

Dear Diary,

I'm the happiest I have ever been.

It's not like life is perfect here. It is hard. Things that I took for granted every day back at home, like having a simple conversation with a friend, are seemingly impossible here. Every time my host brother speaks to me I momentarily freeze up with fear. But every single moment that I manage to understand someone or speak with someone in Portuguese is amazing.

Last night my host sister Carolina took me out to her friend's house to watch a horror movie. I forced myself to come with her, even though I knew what was coming. I was surrounded on all sides by girls who gossipped and told elaborate stories in very fast Portuguese. Daunting is an understatment. At first we did not understand each other at all and they tried to speak English to me, but Carolina said, "Ela prefere falar portugues." By the end of the night we were eating popcorn and brigadeiro (it's similar to homemade hot fudge) and trying to figure out what to wear to a friend's party. The theme was fantasy characters from a movie, and they were talking about Disney villains so I suggested Ursula. Everybody got quiet. One of the girls explained to me (in portuguese of course) that the girl who was having a party's name was Ursula. Lol!

We went home at 2 in the morning and I gave everyone goodnight kisses on their cheeks. Before heading back home, I looked to the sky. All was pitch black except Christo, who shone brightly and looked suspended in the sky. (Did I mention that I live really really close to Christo, one of the new 7 wonders of the world? The other day I found the street that goes all the way up to him, that is how close I live to it.) It was one of the most beautiful things I have seen here in Larangeiras (my neighborhood) and I pointed it out and we all gazed at it together.

I got home and said goodnight to my sister and thanked her for taking me.

"Minhas amigas gostam muito de voce." She said, and said that they wanted to see me again.

And so, just mastering the basics like being able to understand a new friend when she gossips about her friend who is dating a manwhore but doesn't know it, is extremely, extremely rewarding.

Well, I am going to go meet my sister at the beach now!

Love,

Madi

Exploring Rio

This is what I love about Rio. Yesterday I was bored so I took a bus. Any bus. I went for as long as I felt like and I got off when I saw some pretty gates. And this is what I found!

These big rodents were all over the park. What are they?

This little boy had a blast chasing the rodents and kitty cats all over the park.

There were peacocks all over the park too just wandering about. Somehow the cats, peacocks, and weird rodents all cohabitated very peacefully together.

There were also these geese- this was probably the skinniest one there because all the other ones were gargantuan!

This monument was in the center of the park.

I feel like Rio is like waking up on Christmas morning. There are always presents to unwrap.

Appreciation for São Paulo

As I return from my second visit to São Paulo, I find myself missing it.

Upon first glance, São Paulo is a big dirty city. While some areas are definitely richer and cleaner than Rio, others are disgusting. There are streets covered with piles of trash and the river running through the city looks like someone dumped a thousand tons of toxic waste into it. There are various things being burned on the sides of the roads, and plumes of smoke rise to the sky from them. In this part of the city there are two huge skyscrapers covered all the way to the top with really ugly black graffiti. Paulistas call them "shake shake" and Guilherme tells me that once they used to be the nicest buildings in all of São Paulo. Now they look like they are about to collapse. Many people visiting the city see only this side of it, and thus never wish to visit again.

But there is another side to São Paulo. Twenty million people live in this city. Twenty million! Nossa senhora! As such, it has amazing cultural diversity. Liberdade (a Japanese neighborhood inside of São Paulo) is the largest Japanese community outside of Japan in the world. The Italians have their own neighborhood as well, and I thank God for that because Rio has horrible italian food! In fact, São Paulo outdoes Rio in every kind of food (except for juices, Rio does that best). Madalena belongs to the artists, and every culture has their own section of the city to call home.

Paulistas are also amazing people. They are more like Americans in that they are more organized and efficient, and they value a strong work ethic. Yet they also treat people with amazing warmth and Brazilian hospitality. When I visited Nathalie and Maricarmen last weekend, after only 3 days of knowing Yana and I they took us into their home, fed us home cooked meals, and gave us beds to sleep in. When I met their friends they told me that when I came back to São Paulo they would introduce me to their family and have them cook me a meal.

Also, Paulistas belong to themselves. What I mean is that a part of Rio de Janeiro belongs to tourists and that is not so in São Paulo. When you go to a club in São Paulo, there is a chance that you are the only gringa in the club. This does not happen in Rio.

And so, São Paulo, you have a place in my heart.

São Paulo versus Rio de Janeiro

São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro have a lot in common. They are the two biggest cities in Brazil, they both have states named after them, and they are only a one hour plane ride of a six hour bus ride away from each other. But they are also suprisingly different.

People from São Paulo (Paulistas) and people from Rio (Cariocas) generally dislike each other. Cariocas say that Paulistas are far too serious and live only to work, while Paulistas scorn the "lazy" Carioca´s inefficient way of life. In Rio, upon greeting you kiss a person on both cheeks. In São Paulo you only kiss on one cheek because it is more efficient that way. Paulistas and Cariocas also have very different accents, with Paulistas generally being much easier for Americans to understand. And the cities themselves are quite different. Rio is characterized by natural beauty (beautiful beaches, lush mountains, Lagoa, forests, etc.), while São Paulo is more cosmopolitan. Cariocas call São Paulo a "big dirty city" while Paulistas insist that their city is richer and they live a much better life than those in Rio de Janeiro.

They are both right in their judgements, but I think that they fail to see that what they hate about the other city is exactly what their own city lacks. As it is, the debate will always continue as to which city is better. I prefer Rio de Janeiro, but many of my friends, if they were to come back to live, would chose São Paulo.

If you have been to these cities, which do you like best?

Driving in São Paulo at Night

It´s while riding in cars late at night through São Paulo that I feel the most alive.

It is my first night in São Paulo. Though it is midnight and the streets are empty on the outskirts of the city, Fabricio dodges what cars there are like a madman.
"I don´t stop at stoplights at night," he tells me, "because this street is notorious for its carjackings."
We drive through what looks like a ghost town, the only signs of life other than the other cars are ominous clouds of black smoke drifting up from the underpasses below us. It´s revitalizing. Every stoplight is like chugging a redbull, especially if there´s a car stopped in front of us, locking us in, making us wait to see what our fate will be.

The next night I am in Guilherme´s car, the radio blasting American hits as the brazilians in the car sing horribly along to "Pokerface". Guilherme is the picture of relaxed, leaning back in his seat with one hand draped over the wheel. Looking at him, one would think we were driving through the countryside on a Sunday morning. But this is downtown São Paulo, a place where some people have never even seen the countryside, and the cars are all around us, forgetting about traffic lanes and flying by perilously close. Another song comes on the radio and it´s like a switch is turned on; with one flick of his wrist we are thrown in the next lane just inches away from two cars, then with the turn of his arm we are dodging a car coming straight for us, one movement later we´re off an exit narrowly avoiding two busses... ...three lanes merging into one without any notice? No problem. Guilherme does the most amazing maneuvers that would kill me in an instant if I tried them, all in a couple of seconds, all without putting a scratch on his small black car, all without so much as blinking, still with one arm hung over the wheel, relaxing in the driver´s seat.

I am entranced. I am in love. And as a really good song starts to play, I am alive. I am alive, and unafraid, here in Guilherme´s car driving through São Paulo at night.

Sorry for the Lack of Posts

Dear Readers,

I am pleased to inform you that no, I am not dead. Sorry for not posting in a while. I have been constantly sick for the last 3 weeks and now I am FINALLY better.

There is also a 60% chance that I got the swine flu, according to todays paper. Yay!

Well I have to go but there will be LOTS of posts soon!