Voce Fala Portugues?

O Atrevido led the way with a few particularly introspective posts. I figured I should follow his lead. A few days ago I could sense that a slight feeling of frustration was slowly creeping its way into my Brazilian experience. There was a nagging sensation that something was holding me back.

I think of myself as a people person. I like sharing my experiences with others. I also have a deep respect and affinity for language. I take pride in the way I use language. I consider it more than just a way of communicating relevant information. Language is an artform and I feel that it must be utilized with the respect and effort that any legitimate artform deserves.

So when I'm just relaxing with English speaking friends, I love to play with words, stretch them, re/invent them. Language is dynamic and should always be treated with the creativity and flexibility it is capable of exhibiting. Sarcastic humor, verbal jousting, spirited wordplay; all things that I enjoy. Unfortunately...these things are very hard to successfully transfer into Portuguese. Or, at least at my level of Portuguese.

Hence the frustration. I have found myself in a place whose beauty deserves only the most spirited verbal imagery, and I am shackled by substandard vocabulary and a less than a healthy command of Portuguese grammatical structures and syntax. I want to relay my new experieces here in Salvador to my new Brazilian family and friends but often find myself falling back on simple phrases and sentences that can't even begin to relay what I'm really thinking.

But alas, foreign travel is not for the weary, and I have always adapted to new surroundings and circumstances well. Through the result of myriad historical circumstances, I was raised in the linguistic tradition of Anglo-Norman Europe and left ignorant of the intricacies of Iberian wordplay until a very late age. Fate is a cruel master indeed. So, now that I find myself trapped, without the full array of lingual tools on which I usually rely, what is a self-defined wordsmith to do? Maybe it's time to expand my horizons. Communication is not limited to words and sentences. So while I slowly improve upon my Portuguese, I guess I will have to find other forms of communication to help get across my sentiments. Fortunately, Caranaval is a perfect time to try and develop these alternate forms of communication. Actions speak louder than words, and as I've been told (and have begun to witness, in extremely dramatic fashion), almost all actions are allowed during Carnaval.

More than just sand and sun

Tourism is the lifeblood of Salvador. Carnaval here is referred to as the "biggest street festival in the world", and from what I have heard so far, I don't think they're exaggerating. Thousands of tourists from the South of Brazil travel here for the week long party, as do Europeans and Americans. Their money keeps this place running, and their money dictates how this place is run.

The environment of a tourist mecca is extremely interesting. The lucky sectors of society hold down professional jobs. They fight extremely hard for limited university spots and become the doctors, lawyers, nurses, teachers, etc. For almost all the rest, tourism is it.

Everyone has their own hustle. You see the guys hanging out on the streets looking for foreign girls. In limited English they sweet talk their targets. They offer to show them around the town, help them discover all the secrets that Salvador has to offer. Maybe they're trying to hustle some money out of their newfound blond haired acquaintances, or maybe they just want to get them back to the motel for a night. Either way, they're always working.

Vendors in the street hawk everything. Absolutely everything. If you're walking down the street and your thirsty, look no further than the closest corner for a man with any drink you could ask for. Maybe you want an ice cream. That's no problem either. Want some "authentic" Bahian jewelry? They definitely have that.

Bootleg goods? Obviously.

Then you have the kids. Too many hustles to even start describing now....

And of course, what is a good tourist town without good pickpockets.

So the next time you go on that vacation, take a closer look. Salvador, like any coastal city, is a lot more than sand and sun. If you just keep your eyes open you just might learn something.

Heaven?

If Tudo Bem's post wasn't enough to convince you...trust me -- Salvador is the greatest place on the face of the earth.

Where should I start. Maybe I should talk about the city's rich culture and history? Or would you rather just hear about the beaches? Does the African Diaspora interest you? Because, Salvador is the blackest city in all of Latin America...

I'll just start by introducing my host family. To put it simply...they're amazing. When I first arrived at their apartment, I was greeted by aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, everybody. It would've been overwhelming if it wasn't for the fact that everyone was extremely friendly and open. I instantly felt like I was right at home.

When things calmed down a bit I was able to get to know my immediate family a little better. My host parents are both extremely friendly and energetic. They treat me as if I was really one of their own. My host brother, Junior, is the lead singer in an Axe band (the local popular music of Bahia). I got a chance to listen to his CD. It's pretty legit. And even if it wasn't, I wouldn't say anything, because he could probably bench press me 100 times without breaking a sweat (not exaggerating.) And rumor has it that my host sister is really hot, and that she has really hot friends that come over to the house all the time. Fortunately, both of these rumors are completely true... Like I said, Salvador is the greatest place on earth.

In other news, there's a cultural phenomenon sweeping the nation. I actually think it's an American based magazine, but it's spreading throughout Brazil like wildfire. Everyone should check it out. And if you feel compelled, please leave comments.

Until next time...

Welcome to Salvador Indeed

So...I figured it was about that time to let all you dedicated readers know that yes, we are still alive and doing well. In fact, I´ll stop lying...we´re doing absolutely fantastic.

We arrived in Salvador two days ago and for some reason, I have almost completely forgotten what Sao Paulo is like.

Maybe it´s the beaches...

Or the skantily-clad, beautiful women who I´m sure a blind man couldn´t miss...

Or maybe it´s knowing that in a little over a week Salvador´s Carnaval (reputedly the best Carnaval in Brazil) is going to be passing right by my door...

Whatever it is, Salvador is absolutely absolutely (yea, I wrote it twice) breathtaking. If I were more of a computer wiz (or maybe I should say, less or a technological dinosaur) I would include some pictures with this entry--hopefully my more advanced compatriots will lend me a hand here.

To give a breif account of what has transpired thus far, I settled into my host family´s home two days ago in a very nice apartment on the 7th floor of the building which overlooks Praca Campo Grande and as a result, a major Caraval location. My family consists of two host mom´s (who may or may not be life-partners) an aunt, and some other students renting out space, including a kid named Mateus whose reputation far precedes him (I imagine I will be telling you all more about him in the coming entries). As I was getting settled, I was immediately interrupted by one of my host moms (Barbara) and asked if I wanted to attend a family bbq. Being the open guy I am, ready to try new things I quickly agreed, not knowing what I was getting myself into. The bbq was nice, and lots of fun: to give a breif synopsis, I helped cook and taste the meat as it was prepared, in between taking shots of cachaca (if you are not familiar, think of rubbing alcohol), and learning the Samba from the various women/family members at the party.
P.S. All of this happened before 1PM...Not bad for my first day in Salvador.

Much more to come soon, I promise.
Brazil love, Tudo Bem.

Field Journal Vol. 2

Day 7

After a night spent exploring a few local watering holes and sampling native beverages, I found myself completely lost in the thick of an unknown Sao Paulo barrio at 5:00AM. While attempting, unsuccessfully, to navigate my way back to base camp via stellar constellations, I was confronted by what I believed to be a rabid dog in the middle of the street. Fortunately, I ended up being faster than the dog...or at least faster than the friend I was with. He was a good comrade. The expedition will miss him.

Day 20

Last night I made my way to a social gathering at a local hotspot known as Blen Blen, which, when roughly translated from Portuguese = "Bling Bling" (yes, this is the same Bling Bling made in/famous in the late 1990s by Cash Money Record´s "Hot Boyz.") Although disappointed by the music selection (mostly things that were cool in the States 3 years ago), I can now officially say, without doubt or hesitation, that the rumors about the aesthetic appeal of Brazilian women are completely true.

Field Journal Vol. 1

We have almost survived a full month in Brazil. Life in the land of samba and futebol is extremely taxing, and my blog entries have so far been few and far between. Therefore, I´m going to reach straight into my travel journal, full of a month's worth of ethnographic notes from the field...

Day 3.

Brazil is a savage land indeed. We have established a precarious base camp on Avenida Paulista, but are far from secure. Yesterday, I went on a scouting trip with a few of the men to search for provisions. After hours of braving intense midday Latin American heat and charting miles of dense concrete foliage through the urban monstrosity that is Sao Paulo, we stumbled upon an incredible discovery.

Clad in loinclothes and tribal paint, a group of people apparently forgotten by time seem to still reside in the middle of Sao Paulo, a city reputed as the modern financial hub of South America. These primitive creatures appear to come from the darkest depths of the Africa. Outfitted with spears and other tribal weaponry, we assumed that they were on a hunting expedition and decided to keep our distance. We stayed out of harms way, but I, being the fearless explorer that I am, had to get a closer look. As I crept towards this primitive clan, they began a peculiar ritual. Stomping their feet to a savagely delightful drum cadence, they began marching towards me. Slight grunts and mumbles grew to a haunting crescendo that climaxed to create a full scale tribal war chant. As the scene grew increasingly dangerous, I disappared into the underbrush, making a quick escape and rejoining the scouting expedition. But readers, do not fret, I did in fact get close enough to take a single picture of these primitive, yet enchanting, people who have managed to keep the traditions of darkest Africa alive amid the chaos of a modern metropolis...















Note: These "enchanting savages" were actually hired to take part in a commercial for a Brazilian bank. Interestingly enough, only the the black actors were clad in "traditional" attire. The white actors all wore everyday business attire. Racial democracy indeed...

Snap Back To Reality...

To all those who may still be wondering, Brazil is incredible. If you have any doubts, I will referece the two previous entries from O Atrevido and O Chefao respectively. If you have doubts after that...well, you´re either out of your mind or that shitty Northeast weather has made you extremely bitter.
And although I will take a day in Brazil over any day anywhere else in a heartbeat, it was not until yesterday that we finally got a taste of the Brazilian reality that reminds you that even paradise has its uglier sides.
Yesterday we attended an epic futebol match between Sao Paulo and Palmeiras which Sao Paulo won 4-2. If you are not a fan of Brazilian soccer I would say find some way to watch it because if the playing alone doesn´t do it for you, the fans will. Never in my life have I been so emotionally and physically drained from an experience in which I was a spectator and on top of that, being a spectator entering the match favoring neither team.
Once you are there it is impossible not to get swept up by the emotion and the songs and the cursing at the ref, the other and team and the fans on the other side of the field. There´s nothing like screaming, calling the referee a ´filho da puta´until your voice is hoarse. And indeed, I am not sure there are many things in life that compare to going to a Brazilian soccer game, especially among two heavyweights like the one´s that we saw.

The post-game scene is absolute mayhem. I remember turning to O Chefao and commenting that this is what Carnaval must be like, because there are people everywhere that you look, completely packing the streets. Firecrackers are going off and there is all sorts of banter, undoubtedly about either how good the game was, how bad the game was, or which bar people are headed to celebrate/mourn the result. To add another element to this mayhem, there are tons of police in the streets, all in riot gear, all just watching. And waiting. Then it starts. In a crowd as big as this one, you can´t really tell where it starts, but suddenly some part of the crowd scatters. At first I didn´t understand what was going on, and then it happened about 10 feet in front of my face. Because the fans from each team are so are amped up, especially from all the banter, the logical next step is for it to continue in the streets. In an effort keep the fighting to a minimum, the police `tell´ (they´re not exactly making requests) people to take off their shirts if they are wearing paraphanelia from either of the teams. When people do not cooperate, they get the nightstick. Thus, 10 feet in front of my face, where the crowd has just scattered, is a man, wearing a Sao Paulo jersey, getting worked by two armored cops with nightsticks. No serious damage was done--the were catching the guy around the stomach, arms and back and he got away after about a dozen or so shots--but you can´t help thinking, especially coming spoiled by the **relative** protection of individual rights in the U.S., ´what the fuck is going on?´

It was incredibly shocking seeing this, but what´s more, walking further down the street you could see cop cars and buses, with police inside just itching to go to work on some people. Further up the street we saw a gang of cops, chasing down some fans who refused to take off the jerseys. I wish there was some way for me to better communicate the scene for all of you readers, because I feel that these words are falling short of putting you there.

But before this becomes a fuck the police entry, I´ll have to tell the rest of the story. About an hour after all of this transpired, we heard a commotion behind us and saw a group of about 60 macha verde (Palmeiras supporters) running down the street with bats, sticks, boards and rocks in their hands, looking for Independetes (Sao Paulo fans) to brawl. Unfortunately, as I understand it, all they found was more police, who, hungry for the fight, made them disperse and whooped up on that ass where they could.

For anyone who is reading, I would love to hear your thoughts on this. I´m not really coming across with any view, at least not intentionally--throughout out the night I went back and forth between whether the police action was justified (is it worth making a couple examples of people for the greater good of ensuring overall public safety?) or not and could not even really wrap my mind aroung the power of groupthink and the mentality of the mob--but I´d be interested to hear what you all think.

In addition, before I wrap up, there is this little matter of who is going to get ´relieved´first of their belongings. After four weeks in Sao Paulo, all three contenders have come out still in the race (O Chefao still debatably after the laptop debacle) but we need more input. After hanging with these dudes for this long, it has only reinforced my views on who´s getting jacked. The order is as follows: O Chefao first, obviously, followed by O Atrevido. If you disagree, I want to hear it. If you´ve got some sound reasoning, based on previous knowledge of these three gentlemen and you come with a good argument maybe i´ll concede, and you can have a cookie. or something.

Until next time, much Brazil love.

Tudo Bem-