One Month

I wrote this on Tuesday, the day that marks the end of my first month in Brasil. I’m posting some pictures to show you some of what I’ve seen. I would have to write several books to try to explain the myriad emotions and experiences I’ve encountered in that time, besides pictures are more fun to look at than text. I heart you.

m.


Candomble: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Candomble On street corners, it is common to see bowls filled with beer surrounded by potatoes, corn and sometimes entire unplucked chickens. Over the course of a day it is likely that poor person will drink the beer and take the chicken to make a meal.

On Saturday I went to Acampamento Gaucho. For this event, Gauchos build cabins out of the wood you see here. There are roughly 300 cabins and booths on the site. People sell erba mate, cuiras and bombas, handicrafts, food, beer, traditional Gaucho garb, etc. We talked about the cultures within Brasil, listened to music, drank beer, ate churassco and danced. The fellow in the blue was the bartender, the singer and a jovial and gentle man. He’s playing a German accordion that is over 100 years old. The fellow on the right was raised in a German region of Rio Grande do Sul near Farroupilha, and did not learn to speak Portuguese until he was 25.

Traditional Garb



Uvas: These are the orchards where grapes are grown for wine. In this region they grow grapes for table wine. Other types of grapes here (if I heard correctly) are called Isabelas and Nanguens



Chaves: Since there is so much poverty here, there is a high rate of theft and where there is the threat of theft there are locks. Where there are locks, there is a need for keys. I see, at minimum, 5 of these places everyday. They are ubiquitous.

Terra da Carolina e As Laranjes

Until yesterday I hadn’t climbed a tree since I was invincible—somewhere between the ages of 7 and 20. 7 September marks the independence of Brazil from Portugal so there were many celebrations around the country this weekend; my host family decided to celebrate the three day weekend quietly by driving northwest up to the mountains near Bom Princìpio to the land that my host sister, Carolina, will eventually inherit. The pressure change only caused a minor headache, and it was worth it to see the hundreds of kilometres of fields of grapes and the tiny artisan wine factory. This region of Porto Alegre, just south of Farroupilha and Caxias do Sul, was settled by Italian immigrants in the 1920s, and German immigrants settled to the southeast of São Sebastião do Caì around the same time. Now you can see the cows and sheep smattered around the mountains on enormous square plots spiralling up toward the sun.

The little house on Carolina’s land is an original 3 bedroom, from the 20s with shuttered windows and orange trees. It is maintained by a woman and her daughter who live literally a holler away. When we arrived, the day before yesterday, we went for a walk, and Jacque, my host mother marvelled that before roads existed (at a point the pavement ends and the dirt roads end and what’s left is a path) immigrants walked up the steep slopes and planted and harvested and raised children and animals. I watched the ducks and looked closely at the local flowers and trees. When we walked back to the house I took a nap in the hammock. The rest of the night, while Carolina watched Aladdin and Jacqueline sorted through pictures and toys and bits from her past, I lazed about the house, reading and thinking--how refreshing it is to be disconnected for a day or two. And in the morning we took our time.

Instead of rushing to prepare for a day of scratching off tasks on a to-do list, I took Jacque’s suggestion to take some fruit to the children at my project; I set off to the tangerine tree in the field nearby with a basket big enough for 50 tangerines. 20 cows grazed 20 metres away, and after I figured out how to open the barbed wire fence and remembered that cows are scardy-cat herbivores I proceeded to shake the tree, and as I filled my basket I payed no attention to the fact that the cows were closing in.

I heard a moo just a little closer than I was prepared for and turned to stare in to the peripheral vision of a pregnant lady cow. I stood still for probably two full minutes while the cows ate all of the fallen tangerines that were not in my basket, and then I moved toward the tree, and all of the cows turned around to run away. Jacque and Carolina came to join me, and I climbed the tree and pulled off tangerines dropping them into the basket below as I did. Jacque shook the tree, the cows came back and grazed on the excess.

Nobody gets out of life without doing some work, and I’ve done a lot so far. Hell, picking fruit is a job for some people, and it isn’t an easy one, but when it is leisure, it is delightful. I’ve been working too hard for too long, but if that’s what I had to do for this pay off, then I would do it again.

Phoenix

This may be my favorite work of public art ever.

I smell terrible.

Here's why: I spent the entirety of my day lost and riding the bus. I don't say this as a complaint. This is a victory smell.

I was placed, twice, at the wrong bus stop. I asked a stranger (in Portuguese) for the right stop, and found it. Then I went to meet a person who wasn't there.

While riding I looked out of the window and wished I had my camera. When I got back to the end of the line (after going to the other one) I said "Oi," again, to Luecy, the attendant who, with so much humor, had directed me the first time I saw her this morning, and made my way to the train.

Sidenote: This is not winter. Outside it is temperate (though inside of a bus--if one is wearing a light sweater as one is wont to do during "winter"--one might do a little sweating), the sun is up from 5 to 18:00, and women are wearing open toe shoes and mid drifts. As an announcement to Brasilians and Texans alike, winter is a season wherein the average temperature is 0 degrees celcius or 32 degrees fairenheit. This is not that. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that I can wear a t-shirt in "winter," but I'm becoming increasingly concerned about the heat of the summer yet to come.

And we're back. I took the train to Centro, which is as it seems, the hub of Porto Alegre. On my left lay the river, on my right the Public Market (with produce at prices you couldn't beat with a stick), a sort of plaza--like a quaint working man's flea market with big beautiful clocks and cafés and tourists. On several occasions people asked me for directions. I'm super glad I picked a place where I blend in. Of course, even when I understood them, I wasn't much help--but I see good things coming. :-)

Anyway, I made it to Belém Novo (less than 2 hours away and back) in almost 6 hours... Along the way I met a nice family in a store that was also their home, a few old ladies at bus stops, a nice man in an automobile repair shop, and a mom with her two kids. I believe in the kindness (and patience) of strangers.

On the way home, I got off of the bus early. And again, I walked home with only signs in Portuguese to guide the way. I am a champion. I have earned this smell and some new vocabulary words.

Moving on. Tonight I'm going to the movies with Jacqueline and Marcia to see a French film. Sweet. Oh, and before that I'll take a shower.

1 week

I've been here for a week, and I'm still enjoying myself. I'm finally becoming frustrated by the language barrier, but Jacque and Carolina are trying their best to make things clear to me in English while they're teaching me Portuguese. I'm exhausted from translating and studying and going to all of the parks and learning all of the neighborhoods and understanding the accents while I try to cultivate one of my own.

Still, all of these things are beautiful. I live with a woman who loves her daughter more than anything else in the world. I get to see the world through the eyes of an 11 year old--rolly pollys and punch bug, millipedes and BFFs--and I feel grateful for that.

I finally have time to sleep for a full 8 hours, and to read and to write. I have half a section of this house to myself! This week, I will begin Portuguese class and Capoeira class, and I'm pretty excited about regaining my independence (though I'm frightened about taking the bus...).

I'm reading the Alchemist in Portuguese, and while it is slow going, I think it is helping.

The most exciting event of today was our trip to Belem Nova where I will be working. We met Jacque's friend Camillo at his home which sits on top of a hill in front of the river. It is dazzling. The 4 dogs were the most welcoming hosts I've ever met. Okay, I'm off to study. I have to say, a girl could get used to this place.

I wonder if anyone is reading this.

my new minor obsession

These are the Capoeira people from Africanamente.

Host Family

I met my host family and my contact person tonight. They are all lovely people. Jacqueline, the host mother, is a Professor. She writes books about education and social justice! She's elegant and eccentric. I'm looking forward to getting to know her. Her daughter, Carolina, 11, is delightful. She's learning English in school. I'm lucky to be living with an 11-year-old; she'll teach me everything she knows, and she'll make me laugh.

My contact person is also 25. She works in an accounting department for a bank. She's wry and witty, and has a hearty laugh for such a small person. I think we'll get along very well.

Mom, she's an Aquarius, too (February 8th).

On Saturday I'll go to their house in Santana. Apparently, they have a Yorkshire terrier and a swimming pool. Also, it is in a residential area that's a 10 minute walk from shops and bars and restaurants. I'm holding out hope for a bookstore--any kind of bookstore.

Jacqueline has a friend (whose name I don't recall) who is a piano teacher, so maybe I'll be able to practice while I'm here.

So next week, I begin my projects, find a Capoeira class and start Portuguese classes. This may be the single best decision I've ever made in my life.