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:

The People

The people of São Paulo are, by far, the nicest people I’ve ever met in any city.

Sorry San Francisco – you’ve been beat.

All week, the locals here have been bending over backwards to make sure that we are having a great time in their city. This means: being our personal chauffeurs, throwing us a traditional Brazilian BBQ, being our personal translators, guiding us through the tangled web of São Paulo’s confusing streets and bringing us to a soccer game (among many other things).

I’m just waiting for the moment when they get sick of our American naiveté, and they leave us in the middle of a favela to fight our back to the hotel like The Warriors.  Our inability to speak any Portuguese can only be cute for so long.

The Food

You know that feeling when you’re so completely full that it hurts to take a deep breath? That’s pretty much the feeling I’ve had consistently all week. The normal workday lunch break is at least an hour and a half and consists of so much meat and rice and beans and rice and meat and beans that it's a wonder that the country even functions after 2PM (or, I should say, 14:00, as everything is on military time here for some godforsaken reason).

My first feijoada (Aw, I was so young back then)

The culmination of this mid-day food orgy occurs twice a week, when restaurants in São Paulo serve feijoada, Brazil’s national dish. Feijoada can be described as a crockpot of beans and pork pieces, served with a side of more pork. It’s heaven (or, if you’re Muslim, hell) and the people here go crazy for it. However, this delicious concoction is only served on Wednesdays and Fridays based on some archaic tradition that no one can really explain. I asked a Brazilian friend what would happen if I opened a restaurant here that served feijoada everyday of the week. She said I was an idiot.

Another great thing about food culture in Brazil is the concept of “rodízio.” Rodízio is similar to an all-you-can-eat buffet, except the food is served directly to your table (thereby eliminating any of that pesky exercise that could occur). The waiter doesn’t stop piling up food on your plate until you physically assault him or shit your pants at the table, whichever comes first. In Brazil, the rodízio concept is applied to many things: steakhouses (“churrascarias”), pizzerias, sushi joints and even rush-hour traffic (which will have to be explained at a later date). In the US, the most famous example of rodízio is Fogo de Chao – a churrascaria chain restaurant which can be found in such exotic locales as Minneapolis and Kansas City. Much to my chagrin, Fogo de Chao is also regarded by the locals here as the best place for authentic São Paulo rodízio. It’s like going to Texas and being told the best beef brisket can be found at a Lone Star Steakhouse™.

Finally, when eating out at a restaurant, splitting the bill isn’t something that causes waiters to freak out and say, “Let me just check with my manager first.” In fact, splitting a bill among 10 different credit cards is common practice here and is actually the preferred method of payment. At the end of each meal, the waiter, armed with a portable credit card machine, takes the bill and divides it equally among the number of people there (that’s right - screw you “I only had a salad and tap water” people). Your card is swiped at the table and you’re good to go. Gone are the nights wasted doing calculus equations on the back of the bill, trying to figure out who split the potato skins which were $8 as opposed to the steak skewers which were $16 (“And I only had one skewer and Jerry had like five”). Also - 10% gratuity is automatically included with every meal. In conclusion, Brazilians hate math.

The Nightlife

Another thing about São Paulo I’ve loved so far is its nightlife (which, oxymoronically, I’m also applying its day-partying scene). São Paulo, much like New York, is a city that never sleeps. If you’re looking for a party, you won’t have to look far to find one here. This city has everything you’ll ever need - from douchey clubs, to hipster dive bars, to samba joints, to the elusive “funk carioca” dancehalls – and everything is open until 6AM (which, thankfully, is shown as just 6:00).

If you go into a bar, you will be handed what looks like a Votomatic punch-card from the 2000 election, which lists all drinks available (insert “hanging chad” reference here). This is your bar tab. When you order something from the bar, you hand this card to the bartender, who marks what you’ve ordered on your tab. No exchange of cash. No leaving behind your debit card and driver’s license. And no slowly spelling out your last name five times to some a-hole in a tight black t-shirt and a tattoo sleeve. When you’re finished, you hand in your punch-card to cashier on the way out, pay the tab, and you’re free to leave (as long as you show the receipt). It’s kind of like playing drunk bingo. However, I’m not sure what happens if you lose your punch-card – I’m assuming it’s some sort of indentured servitude in the sex slave industry, but I can’t be too sure.

Unfortunately, the beer in Brazil is nothing special. I would describe most domestic brands here as Natty Light-esque (sorry to all the college sophomores I just insulted). However, if you do order a beer at the bar, it will be in a 36oz bottle, and it will come with its own personal bucket of ice. You're expected to drink this beer from a very small glass that can only hold about three to four sips. The logic behind this is that you’ll drink the beer from the tiny glass while the beer is still cold, at which point you can refill the glass with more ice-cold beer. At no point will your drink ever turn warm. Fucking brilliant.

My head hurts just looking at this

But the real drink of choice here is the caipirinha, which is Brazil’s national cocktail. The caipirinha is a mixture of cachaça (think: Brazilian rum), limes, and enough sugar to turn you instantly diabetic. It’s a drink that will never be popular in United States, if only because none of us know how to pronounce “cachaça” (“kah-sha-sah” - I think). Also, there’s just something about that squiggle beneath the “c” that makes our American brains implode (which, by the way, is called a cedilla. Bet you didn’t think you’d learn something today – did you?). These drinks are a pain in the ass to make, are amazingly delicious, and are surprisingly strong. Two of these little f’ers will easily knock you on your ass and give you one hell of a hangover. It’s the Manny Pacquiao of cocktails (and with that, I’ve made my one and only sports analogy. And to be honest, I’m not even sure how accurate it is.)

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So let’s consult with the experts once more, shall we? 

“Even the most partisan Paulistano - resident of São Paulo city - will rail about the smog, the traffic, the crumbling sidewalks and the gaping divide between poor and rich. But in the same breath they’ll tell you they’d never live anywhere else.” – Lonely Planet, Brazil 

“Friends, insiders (knowledgeable as only the home team can be) showed me what’s truly great and memorable about this place…. I like it here. This is a city of people. The kind of people I happen to like a lot. ” – Anthony Bourdain, No Reservations 

“Despite its problems with the infrastructure…visitors from other large cities may find that São Paulo feels surprisingly familiar... There’s normality here, in other words. It just may take a little longer to find.” – Time Out, São Paulo

With 11 more weeks ahead of me – I don't think I'll have a problem falling in love with this place (ugliness and all).

Tchau.