This whole waiting for Carnaval thing has gotten downright maddening at this point. It seems like everything I`ve done for the past month has been building towards this week of festivities. It`s like I`m a kid on the day before a holiday waiting for Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny to come on the same night!
I`ve tried to stay occupied by visiting the parks and deciphering my readings on the urbanization of Brazil. (Yawn.) The readings are thick in jargon and every time I look at the words my eyes glaze over and visions of baianas dance in my head. (Those are the Carnaval dancers in ornate costumes.) More about my Carnaval plans later.
Of the classes I`ve attended thus far, my favorite has been A Historia da America, which I thought would be about the history of the Americas - North, South and Central. As it turns out, it is actually the history of the United States. This is a pleasant surprise.
The class met for the first time this week, and I was the only American. This is a double-edged sword. I think it will be superinteresting to learn (or relearn) the history of the US through a Brazilian lense. There also comes the pressure, however, of being the go-to guy in the class. My professor continually glanced over at me to correct his English throughout the class and at one point asked me if I knew the unemployment rate during the Depression. Uh, sorry prof.
Going over the syllabus, the professor explained we would be reading As vinhas da ira, which is better known as The Grapes of Wrath in the US. (Titles of movies and books never translate literally from English to Portuguese. Sometimes I wonder who retitles films around here. I mean who decided to change Walk the Line to Johnny and Jude? They need to be sentenced to half an hour in the ring of fire if you ask me.) As vinhas da ira literally translates to ¨The vines of...?¨ I didn´t know what ira meant, so I asked one of my classmates.
¨It`s like your really mad because someone hurt you, so you get back at them with violence,¨ he explained matter of factly. ¨Like what Bush did when he invaded Iraq and Afghanistan.¨
Like I said, this class should be superinteresting.
Last Friday, I tagged along with my new brother Marcos to do a little anthropoligical study of Sao Paulo`s upper echelon. (The music, drinks and promise of beautiful young laidies did not factor into this decision.) His band was featured at a young lady´s private birthday party at the horse track in Sao Paulo. Marcos´ band plays American cover songs mainly, so I felt right at home. Marcos sings, plays the keyboard, percussion and guitar - all while drinking a beer inbetween numbers. I think he is what you call ¨musically versatile.¨
The party was held at the Jocquei Clube (Jockey Club) right outside the horse track. It`s interesting to note that gambling is illegal in Brazil, and yet people blow loads of cash at Bingo parlos, on the lottery AND at race horses. Only in Latin America. I recently noticed a large sign outside of one of the Bingo parlors near my house that said something to the effect that, ¨People that gamble frequently may experience financial or emotional harm.¨ They also print pictures of black, decaying lungs on packs of cigarettes. At least someone warns people what they are getting into I guess.
With so much free time this week, I decided to visit the Sao Paulo zoologico and brush up on my animal vocabulary. The Sao Paulo zoo contains a fairly diverse sample of Noah`s ark with my favorite exhibit being the Aves de Rapina, that is, birds of prey. I think the Harpy eagle is my bird of the month. Like zoos go, every animal is interesting for about 15 seconds unless they are honking, braying, spitting, squawking, playing, fighting, roaring or digging a hole out of their cage with a spoon. Then they are worth 30 seconds. And once you`ve seen them do their business, you know it`s time to move on.
American food abroad was definitely a disappointment this week. I was on Avenida Paulista and decided to go to my first McDonald´s in Brazil. Brazilians view the house that Ronald built a little differently than Americans. McDonald´s is considered quality food here and the people that work as burger flippers actually wear their golden arches with pride. It shows too. My order was prepared with so much TLC it actually looked like the picture on the menu! Here´s the kicker though: I paid the equivalent of $8 for two chicken sandwiches and the smallest McFlurry I´ve ever seen. I could´ve ate at a real restaurant for that price! Which leads me to this conclusion: Brazilians are thinner than Americans because they can´t afford to be super-sized.
In other food news, I went grocery shopping today in preparation for traveling this weekend and had a craving for one of America´s near and dear protein-filled substances: peanut butter. I heard a rumor that you could find peanut butter in Liberdade, the Japanese neighborhood, so I took a look this afternoon and hit up every supermercado I saw with unintelligble characters scralled across the top. No luck. The closest thing I found was some kind of wheat germ that looked like watered down Peter Pan. Not even the Loja Americana (American Store) sold jelly´s significant other. I think any store with Americana in the name that does not sell peanut butter is misleading it´s customers. How can they not have peanut butter in a city of 11 million! Eventually, I broke down and settled for Nutella and a tub of Pacoquita, which is a peanut butter-like candy that I found in the largest bulk candy store I have ever seen. I think I got a cavity just breathing the sugar-filled air.
All right, on with Carnaval! Let´s go! Everyone get out their party hats!
I will be spending Carnaval in Florianopolis, a city about 8 hours south of Sao Paulo by car, with an American and five Brazilians. Florianopolis is known for its beautiful coast line, and, since it is so close to Argentina, the people have a slightly different take on the world. My former host told me that one street during Carnaval in Florianopolis is filled with crossdressing males every year. (Too bad I don`t have a camera anymore, huh?) We are renting a two-bedroom house for a week. That´s right, seven people, two bedrooms! We will either really hate each other or really love each other by the end of the week (or possibly both at different stretches).
This event seems so foreign I´m not really sure what to expect. I could love it or I could hate it, but I probably won´t be experiencing another Brazilian Caranaval for awhile so I will be sure to take in as much as I can and figure out how I feel about it later.
Lost in all the Carnaval-mania, however, is the reason behind the revelry: Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. I´ll be sure to remember that part too.
I`ve tried to stay occupied by visiting the parks and deciphering my readings on the urbanization of Brazil. (Yawn.) The readings are thick in jargon and every time I look at the words my eyes glaze over and visions of baianas dance in my head. (Those are the Carnaval dancers in ornate costumes.) More about my Carnaval plans later.
Of the classes I`ve attended thus far, my favorite has been A Historia da America, which I thought would be about the history of the Americas - North, South and Central. As it turns out, it is actually the history of the United States. This is a pleasant surprise.
The class met for the first time this week, and I was the only American. This is a double-edged sword. I think it will be superinteresting to learn (or relearn) the history of the US through a Brazilian lense. There also comes the pressure, however, of being the go-to guy in the class. My professor continually glanced over at me to correct his English throughout the class and at one point asked me if I knew the unemployment rate during the Depression. Uh, sorry prof.
Going over the syllabus, the professor explained we would be reading As vinhas da ira, which is better known as The Grapes of Wrath in the US. (Titles of movies and books never translate literally from English to Portuguese. Sometimes I wonder who retitles films around here. I mean who decided to change Walk the Line to Johnny and Jude? They need to be sentenced to half an hour in the ring of fire if you ask me.) As vinhas da ira literally translates to ¨The vines of...?¨ I didn´t know what ira meant, so I asked one of my classmates.
¨It`s like your really mad because someone hurt you, so you get back at them with violence,¨ he explained matter of factly. ¨Like what Bush did when he invaded Iraq and Afghanistan.¨
Like I said, this class should be superinteresting.
Last Friday, I tagged along with my new brother Marcos to do a little anthropoligical study of Sao Paulo`s upper echelon. (The music, drinks and promise of beautiful young laidies did not factor into this decision.) His band was featured at a young lady´s private birthday party at the horse track in Sao Paulo. Marcos´ band plays American cover songs mainly, so I felt right at home. Marcos sings, plays the keyboard, percussion and guitar - all while drinking a beer inbetween numbers. I think he is what you call ¨musically versatile.¨
The party was held at the Jocquei Clube (Jockey Club) right outside the horse track. It`s interesting to note that gambling is illegal in Brazil, and yet people blow loads of cash at Bingo parlos, on the lottery AND at race horses. Only in Latin America. I recently noticed a large sign outside of one of the Bingo parlors near my house that said something to the effect that, ¨People that gamble frequently may experience financial or emotional harm.¨ They also print pictures of black, decaying lungs on packs of cigarettes. At least someone warns people what they are getting into I guess.
With so much free time this week, I decided to visit the Sao Paulo zoologico and brush up on my animal vocabulary. The Sao Paulo zoo contains a fairly diverse sample of Noah`s ark with my favorite exhibit being the Aves de Rapina, that is, birds of prey. I think the Harpy eagle is my bird of the month. Like zoos go, every animal is interesting for about 15 seconds unless they are honking, braying, spitting, squawking, playing, fighting, roaring or digging a hole out of their cage with a spoon. Then they are worth 30 seconds. And once you`ve seen them do their business, you know it`s time to move on.
American food abroad was definitely a disappointment this week. I was on Avenida Paulista and decided to go to my first McDonald´s in Brazil. Brazilians view the house that Ronald built a little differently than Americans. McDonald´s is considered quality food here and the people that work as burger flippers actually wear their golden arches with pride. It shows too. My order was prepared with so much TLC it actually looked like the picture on the menu! Here´s the kicker though: I paid the equivalent of $8 for two chicken sandwiches and the smallest McFlurry I´ve ever seen. I could´ve ate at a real restaurant for that price! Which leads me to this conclusion: Brazilians are thinner than Americans because they can´t afford to be super-sized.
In other food news, I went grocery shopping today in preparation for traveling this weekend and had a craving for one of America´s near and dear protein-filled substances: peanut butter. I heard a rumor that you could find peanut butter in Liberdade, the Japanese neighborhood, so I took a look this afternoon and hit up every supermercado I saw with unintelligble characters scralled across the top. No luck. The closest thing I found was some kind of wheat germ that looked like watered down Peter Pan. Not even the Loja Americana (American Store) sold jelly´s significant other. I think any store with Americana in the name that does not sell peanut butter is misleading it´s customers. How can they not have peanut butter in a city of 11 million! Eventually, I broke down and settled for Nutella and a tub of Pacoquita, which is a peanut butter-like candy that I found in the largest bulk candy store I have ever seen. I think I got a cavity just breathing the sugar-filled air.
All right, on with Carnaval! Let´s go! Everyone get out their party hats!
I will be spending Carnaval in Florianopolis, a city about 8 hours south of Sao Paulo by car, with an American and five Brazilians. Florianopolis is known for its beautiful coast line, and, since it is so close to Argentina, the people have a slightly different take on the world. My former host told me that one street during Carnaval in Florianopolis is filled with crossdressing males every year. (Too bad I don`t have a camera anymore, huh?) We are renting a two-bedroom house for a week. That´s right, seven people, two bedrooms! We will either really hate each other or really love each other by the end of the week (or possibly both at different stretches).
This event seems so foreign I´m not really sure what to expect. I could love it or I could hate it, but I probably won´t be experiencing another Brazilian Caranaval for awhile so I will be sure to take in as much as I can and figure out how I feel about it later.
Lost in all the Carnaval-mania, however, is the reason behind the revelry: Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. I´ll be sure to remember that part too.
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