Seriously, this is how they show Brazil? - São Paulo

So here's the ESPN.com page 10 minutes before the World Cup draw. It shows burning stuff and a black bloc type person with a fist raised. Like we're living this in Brazil right now. We're not--that was June/July and it wasn't fun. But it has nothing to do with the World Cup of today. We're pretty much excited for the draw.  I plan to burn nothing.

I really hope ESPN is not a sponsor. With friends like these, who needs enemies?

Profoundly good - São Paulo and South Africa

This morning I was going to write about thunderstorms and power outages--last night a minor thunderstorm knocked out power in our whole neighborhood for six hours. But it turns out that during these hours, the death of one of my heroes was announced to the world, and I missed it because we had no technology working. I read it only this morning and am still sitting here thinking about Nelson Mandela. So excuse the detour while Brazil in My Eyes goes to South Africa. Again.

Nelson Mandela entered my consciousness as a high school kid. "We are the World" was released--and I must have played that record (yes, vinyl!!) a million billion times. I would wait for the moments when Bono appeared on the MTV video (come on! I was a teenybopper!). Then "Sun City" was released, a video I will never forget, and a song that popped into my head when we drove past Sun City this past October. It isn't as well known as the We are the World song, but the video (directed by Jonathan Demme, by the way) is powerful--though the music repetitious. If you have not seen it, here it is:

When I was in college, I was part of the naive group of kids who blocked the college entrance to ask for divestiture. As all kids this age, my self-righteousness far exceeded my understanding of what it all meant. I just knew that Nelson Mandela had been in prison for almost 20 years at that point, and that the riots were about the scariest thing this Connecticut girl had ever seen. 

As any of my blog followers know, I have more recently gotten to know South Africa personally. At the World Cup, on safari, in Johannesburg and Cape Town. I don't know it well but I love it. And I love the South Africans I know--as I've said, the kids' school is the consulate choice in São Paulo and there are five kids from South Africa in the second grade. Soon to be four, as one's family is being recalled to Pretoria next week. The girl that is leaving has the single-best infectious laugh I have ever heard.

I have read several books about Mandela, including his mind-opening, incredible autobiography called A Long Walk to Freedom. His history, determination, patience and more than anything, capacity for forgiveness should leave all of us in awe. Is there another country leader who was ever as powerful for the good? I can't think of one--certainly not in my home country (okay, not in this generation anyway) and not in my adopted country.

Where does South Africa go from here? I don't believe things will spiral down into revenge now that the master of forgiveness is gone. I hope not. It is hard to believe that something called apartheid ever existed, yet of course it did. When do the scars go away? Will they ever? One of the things that has struck me in every one of my three visits to South Africa is how it is the best-kept secret of tourism. A beautiful, diverse, exciting, wonderful place with something for everyone--garden route, wine region, safari, city...it has everything. Except, now, Nelson Mandela.

As my president said last night, "Today he's gone home, and we've lost one of the most influential, courageous and profoundly good human beings that any of us will share time with on this earth." My deepest, heartfelt condolences, South Africa.

Anticipation and the World Cup - Sao Paulo

Folha de São Paulo sports section, December 4, 2013

For those of you who don't know, and even for the percentage who don't care, the World Cup Draw is on Friday at 2 pm Brasilia time. During this live event, the 32 qualifying teams will be ping pong ball lotteried. You know that vacuum tube thing...or wait, will it be the spinning cage? I don't know. Anticipation is killing me.

There will be 8 groups of 4 teams and the big thrill this year is the possibility of the "supergroup of death." I don't make up this term--it is whispered about in all corners. Or as the International Business Times says it "the specter of one of the deadliest groups in World Cup history..." etc. Turns out that 9 teams qualified from Europe this year--one group will have more than 2 European teams. Who is the odd team out? Le Bleu. La Belle France. Le Dead Meat.

Now I am going to digress for a moment to tell you that I can't believe I know this stuff. Well, actually I can--between the personal trainer and the husband discussing this stuff at every training, and all the newspapers (except US ones--wait, what, them too? ) rambling on every day, I soon shall be the knowledge source of 2014. I plan to bore you all ad nauseum.

Back to the draw. For the last week, the anticipation has grown. There are websites devoted to coming up with all the possible combinations. My favorite puts the US and Iran in a collision course.  Hit the reset button and you get a whole new possibility. Here it is: the 2014 World Cup draw simulator.

That's what it is right now: Imagining the possibilities. I hope Friday and its final definition comes slowly...this is (shhhhhh, don't tell on me) quite fun...

Soccer Nation - São Paulo

Concrete soccer court at CEU Butantã (community center)

Everyone knows that Brazil is the country of football (soccer). Well, most people know--I admit that until I turned about 15,  I believed that Pele actually was American (well, he DID play for the New York Cosmos, my home team). But you really have no concept of what "soccer nation" means until you live here.

Here is what it means. People (mostly men and boys) play soccer here all the time. Any where. On the streets, on concrete courts at the pocket park, at the club, at academies, at rented fields, at hotel fields, on the beach. EVERYWHERE! My son is the perfect example of this. Though only seven, he plays at both the club and the soccer academy, as well as every spare moment at school, and every other spare moment at the nearby park. He kicks a ball against our house wall for an hour every afternoon if he does not find someone to play with him.

And he is not alone. On Saturday, he had the club championship--a hard-fought game that had him sitting only five minutes of the two 20-minute halves. After the game, he showered and then we went off to my other son's dance performance. While waiting for the doors to open, he and my husband disappeared. I finally found them across the community center on a concrete court playing soccer against three "moleques" (pre-teens), one with no shoes. The mom was the goalie of their team. The court was littered with graffiti, without nets for the goals, but my son played as hard as he did at the club. There was no quarter given for him being years younger than the others. It reminded me of the basketball courts that you see on the Upper (way upper) West Side in NYC. Down and dirty sports. My son entered the theatre seating completely soaked in sweat. 

I have to admit to looking forward now to the World Cup next year. Yes, I was against it so this may be hypocritical but there you have it. I think it's wonderful that the country that lives soccer gets to really live it and celebrate it for a month next year.  I wish that more infrastructure projects had actually come to life with the big useless stadiums but it didn't happen. But I can tell you that this place will fairly burst with pride (and boys kicking balls against walls) next June.

PS, after posting this early this morning, I happened to run across this Nike ad posted two days ago...weird coincidence...

 

The season of giving - São Paulo

Happy Holidays from the garbage collectors!

It is December 3 today and I know that the holidays have truly arrived, not because of the holiday decorations which are dripping from every flowering tree (still weird for me to have Christmas in full summer) but because of the little cards that show up in my mail box. The little cards that wish me happiness and prosperity and all that stuff...and that clue me to the fact that the card-giver will be back within a week to ask for a "caixinha" ("tip") in person. 

"Caixinha" is a code for cash. Do not attempt to give these folks a panettone or some homemade cookies. Or a tie. They want whatever you have hanging around in your cash drawer, which sadly is often nothing in my case. I will have to make the obligatory trip to the bank to get some "caixinha" provisions. 

So, let me tell you who has already given me their cute Christmas cards: the electric meter reader was first, then the security patrol and I just got the garbage truck's card this morning. I am not a fan, by the way, of the garbage truck card's graphics which just makes me think that these are criminals carrying sacks of stolen goods from the house behind them.

At the moment, I cannot find the card from the electric meter reader. This is the one that I find most "sem vergonha" (shameless). What exactly is the service we have gotten from this guy? He shows up once a month, wearing his ipod headsets, yells "Eletropaulo" into the intercom, steps in, opens the electric box, writes down some number mostly having to do with his imagination (we have been overcharged regularly) and slams out the door again. Why do I have to give him a tip? It's easy: I'm afraid of what will happen if I don't. I do not need my electric bill to double. 

Here is the security patrol's "card" which this year is a xeroxed paper:

 

It's a nice message. They are wishing me peace. Of course, if we had peace, they would not have a job, but that's a technicality. I can either call over to the base and get one dude named "Aurindo" to pick up the money or I can bring it to the base. 

Next up: the street sweepers. Here is their card:

And it reads "During the whole year, in sun or rain, we wish everyone on this street a merry Xmas, etc etc." It is signed by my favorite street sweeper who really does take some care on the street, particularly at this time of year. He also helped me identify the owner of a lost labrador (not mine). And at the bottom of the card it is written "Be careful with fake sweepers." Errr, what?

Yes, this is also the time of year when "fake" service providers show up and ask for tips. They'll dress in a jumpsuit and go door to door saying they are the sweepers and asking for the tips. Too bad for them that I know every single service person that comes to this house or outside it. 

Finally, let's go back to the garbage truck card which is by far my favorite. Here is the inside of the folded card:

 

After wishing me happy holidays, the card goes on to tell me that "With effort and dedication, we work so that our city becomes each day cleaner. We garbage men wish you ....yayayaya." Then below the fold it says that you should only tip the guys who are with the truck and wearing black pants.  Issues with false garbage men...hmmmm. And then it gives me the names of the driver and all the collectors of night time garbage. Because of course, I also will receive a request/card from the daytime collectors of recycling. 

I am still waiting for the cards of the following service providers: mailman, water reader, gas delivery guys, recycling collectors and who knows? Maybe the dog food delivery guy. I am just printing out my own card to give to my neighbors to try for a caixinha for being a good neighbor all year.  Also for being a reading mum at school. It could work.

Happy Holidays!

 

Racquet Sports - São Paulo

The above is a picture of one of my favorite things in Brazil.  I will say that it is not actually made in Brazil (China) but that I have only ever seen it here. Then again, I have never been to China, and many other places so what do I know?

This, my readers, is the Frita Insetos (Fry Insects) racquet. It's about the size of a racquetball racquet, takes 2 "AA" batteries and fries bugs like there's no tomorrow. As you swing this thing around (extra points for nice follow-through and more than one insect on a swing), it fries up those mosquitos with the most satisfying zap-bang-of-blue-light-then-sizzle you've ever heard.

My seven-year olds are now allowed to wield it themselves but there are rules of engagement. Only stinging bugs may be killed, and you'd better think twice about trying for a wasp because they seem to only  be momentarily stunned before looking around for your bum to take revenge on. Those are stun-and-squash victims. 

It's quite a charge in these suckers--trust me, you don't want to test if they are working or not by placing your hand on the metal grid. They're working. The feeling in your fingers will be gone for quite some time. I am guessing that is why these are not available in the US--it is a lawsuit waiting to happen. 

In the meantime, for R$15 (US$7) a pop, it may be my favorite Christmas present this year. Remember, it's mosquito season down here...zap, sizzle, happy summer!

Much obliged! - São Paulo

Things to be obligated for...

As I mentioned last week, we had the great fortune to be invited to two Thanksgivings this year. The first was on the actual Thursday and was a perfect meal. Yesterday was the second. These friends have had a Thanksgiving tradition here for years--they call it the Peru do Moreno (the dark person's turkey) which must be irony because the husband is the whitest American I have yet met. 

It was delicious and fun with more than 30 people and 15 kids. The kids put on a Thanksgiving play explaining the meaning of Thanksgiving, and afterwards, mulling over the word "thanksgiving" and its origin (I will admit to two glasses of wine by this time), I also thought about thanking people in Portuguese. Meaning, how you say "thank you."

When thanking someone for service or whatever in a store or restaurant, I say "obrigada" while my husband says "obrigado." Literally it means that you are "obliged" to the person who has provided the service. As far as I can tell, the origin of the shortened "obrigado" is "estou-lhe obrigado" or "I am obliged to you." Or, more crassly, "I owe you one." 

The word "agradecer" in Portuguese is probably the more direct translation of "to thank" but it is not used in most casual conversation. You do see it often in formal written letters--"eu agradeço a atenção" would mean "I thank you for the attention." I don't use it much because for whatever reason I trip over the vowels and it never comes out right.

One of the complexities of "obrigado" is how you respond to the person who says it to you. Most commonly you respond "de nada" or "foi nada" (it was nothing) but sometimes, if you want to say "thank you" back to the other person, you could slide in "obrigada eu" or "I am obliged to you". Sometimes you hear an "obrigada voce" which is meant as "thank you back" but actually means "you are obliged to me". I got the bad habit of saying "obrigada voce" before I knew that it was incorrect, and it is the devil to take it out of my speech. As BH explained to me "obrigada a voce" is correct but you need that "a" in there to make it "I'm obliged TO you."  Whew, this is complex stuff.

In any case, I am much obliged to our friends for a lovely day. Obrigada eu.