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.