Final Reflections from Brazil

Location: Brazil

Time: Tuesday, November 2, 2011

In Portuguese, the word “saudade” is unique in that there is no direct equivalent of this word in English. However, the renowned, extremely accurate Wikipedia attempts to explain saudade in the following way:

“Saudade describes a deep emotional state of nostalgic longing for something or someone that one loves and which is apart. It often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never return.”

As I spend my last afternoon in São Paulo packing for my bittersweet return trip home to the United States (and trying to figure out how I can smuggle back four bottles of cachaça) – I am starting to understand what this saudade feeling is all about.

I am going to miss Brazil.

But, before I leave, here are some final, brief reflections from my some travels around this ridiculous country:

Entertainment in Brazil: Eleven Men and One Secret

The dance floor is covered in a layer of "samba farts"

Entertainment junkies (like myself) will find a lot to love in Brazil. Not only is this country the birthplace of unique musical genres like bossa nova and samba, but Brazilian cinema and television are also currently on the rise.

By living in São Paulo for three months, I was fortunate enough to get to sample all different types of Brazilian entertainment – many of which reminded me I wasn’t in America anymore.

My observations below:

Movies

It’s not very hard to find a movie theater in São Paulo. Every shopping mall has its own theater, and there's a shopping mall on every corner (which is only a slight exaggeration). The theaters are state-of-the-art, complete with stadium seating, high-definition projectors and moveable armrests (so that couples can partake in Brazil’s favorite pastime: making-out).

Culture Club

Now imagine trying to drive through this mess

Let's be honest, most of the world is pretty much Americanized. You can thank (or blame) American movies, rock & roll and the internet - but it seems that American culture has managed to sneak its way into just about every country on this planet.

Brazil is no exception.

Excluding the obvious language differences, Brazil (and São Paulo, especially) has been very heavily influenced by the United States. Lord knows how many times I've crawled into a São Paulo taxi only to have some terrible Katy Perry song blasting back at me. With such a strong influence, it's easy to forget that I'm in a different country all the way on the other side of the planet. So when uniquely Brazilian cultural differences manage to bubble their way to the surface - I tend to take notice.

Here are some of the more recent observations:

Hygiene

Brazilians are extremely hygienic. I'm not saying Americans are smelly and Brazilians aren't (because I've met some smelly Brazilians as well), but I've noticed that Brazilians definitely place a larger emphasis on their personal hygiene than Americans do.

(I should mention that this is aside from the Brazilian proclivity for removing "unsightly" hairs.)

Five Things I Miss About America

Vila Olimpia Shopping Mall: Almost as pretty as the beaches of Ipanema...

I miss America. And while there are things about the United States that still annoy me, living in Brazil has made me appreciate many other things that I normally would have taken for granted.

So I decided to make a list:

Five Things I Miss About America

1) Safety

While I haven't felt unsafe in São Paulo, there certainly are things I've had to sacrifice to feel that way. I don't wear my watch. I don't walk around with my iPod. I try not to use my cell phone in public. And, if I'm carrying my laptop, I take a taxi to work even though it's only a 10 minute walk from my hotel. But because petty street crime is a popular pastime here, you don't want to do anything, carry anything, or wear anything that would make you look like a target. We've all heard the story about the Americans who were robbed at machine gun point. I'd prefer if that wasn't me.

And although I wouldn't call New York City a perfectly safe city (we have other things to worry about like terrorists and protestors), the criminal element seems to stay in specified areas. As long as you're not wandering around the Bronx at 2AM, I think you're pretty safe. And even so, I think a machine gun is a bit excessive - even for the most ruthless New York criminals.

Five Things I Hate About America

Authentic Brazilian cooking!

I don't hate America. Far from it. But having lived in Brazil for over two months now, I’m starting to get to the point where I’m a little homesick and little sick of home. And recently, I've been reflecting on my experiences here and thinking a lot about the United States.

So I decided to make a list:

Five Things I Hate About America

1) Chain restaurants

When I walk down the streets of São Paulo and pass a McDonald's, a Pizza Hut and a Hooters -  it makes me want to punch Uncle Sam right in the nutsack. I have no problem with shitty chain restaurants completely homogenizing the Midwestern United States (let's be honest - it had nothing going for it anyway), but when I see this shameful part of Americana invading other countries - it makes me livid. Brazil has such a rich and wonderful culture that it kills me to see it being watered down with such bland, reheated dreck. If this trend continues, the entire world is going to look like a Cleveland strip mall by the year 2018.

Are You Ready For Some Futebol?

It's like Parachute Day in Gym Class - except replace the Second Graders with riotous soccer hooligans

Like many Americans that grew up in the suburbs, I spent much of my early childhood playing soccer in a local town league. Every Saturday, wearing shin-guards, Umbro shorts and a colored T-shirt emblazoned with the name of a local pizzeria, car dealership or weird fraternal organization (i.e. Knights of Columbus) – I would chase the soccer ball around like an idiot while my parents watched from the sidelines (pretending to be interested). Even at that early age, I was mostly looking forward to eating orange slices at half-time or going to the post-game pizza parties.

By the time I entered Middle School, my interest in soccer was already waning. I was playing on my school's intramural team, where the extent of my participation involved hanging back on defense and toe-balling the shit out of the soccer ball whenever it came near. I just wanted to go home and play GoldenEye.

Once I reached high school, I could officially give two craps about soccer. Every four years, I'd watch the World Cup, but mostly used it as an excuse to party. Or even worse, watch the Women's World Cup for the same reason. (PS: I guarantee no one will remember stupid Abby Wombach's name two months from now).

...that is, of course, until I moved to Brazil.

Eat, Pray, Crap

Most pictures of people with their food are boring. Case in point.

Brazilians love their food - and with good reason. The food here is ridiculously good. Every meal in Brazil is a decadent schmorgasboard of beef, pork and carbs. And dessert? A must. In order for Brazilians to eat what they do every single day, they must have the highest metabolism out any population on the planet.

However, that isn't to say that Brazilians are skinny by any means. Before I arrived, I had pictured a bunch of Miss Universes walking around the streets of São Paulo - with their long legs and flat stomachs. In reality, most women here, while certainly not fat, sport a lovely paunch - which is only emphasized by their preference for tight belly shirts. The men, meanwhile, can be best described as chubby, doughy or pudgy. It seems whole health-food craze of the United States hasn’t even scratched the surface of the Brazilian consciousness.

But honestly, who can blame them? I love the food here, exactly as it is. So instead of writing a dissertation (dessert-ation?) on Brazilian dietary reform, I wanted to celebrate this country’s food - in all of its artery-clogging, high-blood-pressure-causing glory.

(Also, please excuse that "dessert-ation" joke. That was really bad.)

An analysis of each major food group below…

Eu Quero Te Beijar ("I Want to Kiss You")

Just imagine this is one giant school gymnasium...with a chandelier

After spending many nights in São Paulo's most exclusive bars and clubs (obviously), the scene in Brazil can be best summarized in the following way:

Freshmen year homecoming dance

Brazilians love making-out. Or more accurately: sucking-face. At any bar or club in Brazil, you`ll find at least fifteen "couples" in throes of passion, seeing who can shove their tongue farther down the other person's throat. If this was Teen Night at Joey Harrison's Surf Club in 1999 - I would be ecstatic. Unfortunately, trying to navigate around two grown individuals playing tonsil-hockey can be a bit sickening. In the United States, such Public Displays of Affection are relegated to the darkest of corners, and last only about five minutes before someone makes the "next move." Not so in Brazil. Make-out sessions here take place in the middle of the dance-floor, or right in front of the bar, or over the dinner table, and last the entire night. The only "next move" here is stopping and finding someone new to make-out with.

Her Name Is Rio And She Dances On The Sand

So I went to Rio.

Arriving in Rio De Janiero (or as the locals say. "Hee-oh Jeejeaierjhoiewreo"), your first thought is "Now THIS is what Brazil is supposed to look like." Palm trees. Beaches. Big Ol' Jesus. Malaria. Everything.

Rio is, without question, a very gorgeous city. Long stretches of beautiful beaches are framed by humongous granite mountains and jungles straight out of Jurassic Park. Atheistically, I would say that the only downsides are the man-made structures (excluding Big Jesus), as every building looks like the United Nations Headquarters or the Contemporary Resort in Disney World. Well, that and the large fat men in speedos (more on that later).

Regardless, on the cab ride to the hotel, it’s difficult not to have "The Girl From Ipanema" playing on a continuous loop in your head. It’s also the perfect way to prepare you for your stay at the hotel, where the "The Girl From Ipanema" will playing on a continuous loop in the elevator.

São Paulo: The Ugliest / Nicest City You’ll Ever Meet

(This) x (1,000)

São Paulo.  How do I describe thee?

Well – why don’t we leave it to the experts:

“São Paulo is enormous, intimidating and, at first glance at least, no great beauty – a difficult city for the traveler to master and one that, initially, may not seem worth the sweat.” – Lonely Planet, Brazil

Uhhh...okay then. Let’s try another… 

“[São Paulo] is not a pretty city by any means. In fact, to be honest with you, it’s pretty damned ugly. Big. Crowded. Terrible traffic. A climate, although nice, isn’t exactly the Brazil of dreams… It’s been said, uncharitably, that São Paulo feels like LA threw up on New York.” – Anthony Bourdain, No Reservations

One more try… 

“São Paulo’s reputation tends toward extremes. Enormous wealth coexists with appalling poverty; gleaming skyscrapers loom over crumbling edifices; newspaper headlines are devoted to an uneasy mix of glitzy celebrity parties and violent crime… São Paulo’s jumble of self-contained worlds reflects the ongoing tussle between youthful progress and decaying chaos.” – Time Out, São Paulo

Yes - it’s kind of true, unfortunately. São Paulo, or “Sampa” as the local Paulistanos call it, is a huge, sprawling ugly city. To get an idea of what the city is like, imagine a bunch non-descript whitish-gray apartment complexes and office buildings. Now multiply that image by 1,000 and throw in some shopping malls here and there. That is São Paulo.

Now, while it sounds like I’m shitting on the city, there are many things I’ve got to see and experience in this past week that I actually really loved. So what the city may lack in aesthetics, it makes up with a great personality (much like many ugly girls I know).

So although I’ve only been here a week, here’s a quick list of all the things I’ve loved so far:

Olá. Com licença. Desculpa. Obrigado. Tchau.

Home Sweet Home

Location: São Paulo, Brazil

Time: 12:30AM Saturday, August 6, 2011

I made it. Here’s the breakdown:

30 Minutes = Drive from Manhattan to JFK Airport, incessantly checking my printed Google Map directions

45 Minutes = Insanely packed shuttle ride from the Rental Car booth to Terminal 4, getting very close and personal with some overweight men (the Tram was broken)

1 Hour = Waiting in line to check-in for my flight with a gaggle of gorgeous Brazilians

1 Second = Trying to speak Portuguese to check-in and failing miserably

1 Hour = Waiting in line to drop off my luggage for security / Waiting in line to go through security / Waiting in line to board the flight / Waiting in line to get to my seat

5 Hours = Falling asleep and waking up somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean

1 Second = Trying to order juice in Portuguese (“suco”) and failing miserably

GOOOAAAAALLLL(s)

4 Knots Music Festival (in New York, not Brazil)

Location: New York, NY

Date: Friday, July 29, 2011

In exactly one week from today, I will be making the agonizingly long trip down to São Paulo, Brazil, to participate in a 3 month work exchange program.  Now, as I sit here inside NYC apartment, safely nestled in my comfort zone, I can’t help but think about what to expect next week when I begin what many people would describe as a “life changing experience.”

Several weeks ago, I had to submit a list of goals to my company, listing everything I hoped to accomplish during my rotation. Full disclosure: most of what I submitted was politically correct BS (e.g. exchange of ideas and culture blah blah blah). Therefore, before I begin my adventure, I wanted to take the time to write down my *TRUE* goals.

They are as follows: