Cheering for Iran - Belo Horizonte

Here are the shirts they have to wear for the whole Cup

So way back in November 2013, I entered the FIFA lottery under two names: my mother-in-law's and mine. We tried for four different cities, 2 x 4 people in each game. In one of those weird coincidences of life, the only tickets we won were 8 tickets for Belo Horizonte and the game on June 21. 

Later we would find out that we would be watching Argentina play Iran--ironic on several levels since Argentina is Brazil's biggest rival, and Iran is the USA's nemesis. Both BH and I were wondering who in the world we would cheer for. No, actually I wasn't--Messi is one of the sons' favorite players, and I refuse to cheer for any country that treats women as second class citizens. So, BH was more of the one torn--while he likes Messi, no Brazilian can cheer for Argentina.

As the game grew closer, it became clear that my mother-in-law would not be able to attend for health reasons. I tried several times to switch her ticket to my other son (the Messi fan was already going) but FIFA would not allow me to change the name on the ticket even to the grandson of the ticket buyer. There are some rules that are made to avoid scalping that are too general to allow any obvious exception. So we decided to take a risk and see if my son would be able to get in on my mother-in-law's discounted ticket (people over 60 and students are allowed half price tickets).

We spent the long Corpus Cristi weekend (also a happy coincidence of when we succeeded in getting tickets) in Ouro Preto, an hour and a half from Belo. On Saturday, we left at 8 am for the 1 pm game, knowing that we had an hour and a half drive in front of us.  The night before I had scouted out a residential street to park on about a kilometer from the stadium. By 10 am we had parked the car and were snacking on sandwiches on this shady lakeside residential street. At 10:30, we started our walk to the stadium, picking up more and more Argentinian fans on the way. Most were dressed in sky blue and white soccer jerseys, many with Maradona or Messi written on the back.  They carried flags, banners, signs and beer. They were generally well-behaved, though quite loud with a long playlist of Argentinian songs.

My kids blended in with their Messi Argentine jerseys--one Brazilian fan was so convinced that the blond twin was Argentinian that he insisted on taking a photo with him even after being informed he was Brazilian, too. BH, his daughter and my brother in law were all wearing Brazil shirts and biting their tongues--the rivalry with Argentina runs deep. I was in white as was my father in law, my stepson in a neutral grey. 

We ran into a few Iranian fans on the way wearing white, red and green. A couple had turbans, one had a crown, all were few and far between. In general, the walk up to the stadium was incredibly pleasant along the lakefront and in a giant centipede of fans. Finally we arrived at the long uphill leading to the stadium, called Mineirão. Mineirão was not built new for the Cup, but extensively renovated and was the first of the 12 to be completed last year. 

Yikes!

We passed through three gates on this hill up to the stadium. The first just checked if we had tickets (we did), the second made us throw away any outside food or drink, the third checked inside purses and bags. Then we walked past the "Tropa de Choque" or shock troops all armed to the teeth with shields and automatic weapons. Even their horses wore plastic eye guards for possible germ warfare (?). We saw not a single altercation at the game--but then we know the Pope is Argentinian, his boss is Brazilian and the Iranians care nothing about any of that. 

At the top of the hill, we came into view of Mineirão which looked impressive (though you have to like 60s architecture, one must say) all decked out in FIFA flags. We got into the short security line and went through the metal detector all in about 5 minutes. Then we found our gate and my heart began to beat faster. There was still the possibility that my 7-year old son would not be able to use the ticket of his grandmother and we would both have to sit outside the stadium for the game.

Security line #4

 We were sent to a special "preferential ticket holder" line for student and elderly ticket holders. My son passed through first, then the machine beeped asking for the document of the preferential ticket holder. My father in law handed over his. The ticket taker got a little confused about who had which ticket and in the end we all passed through. 

I was completely impressed with the organization of the stadium--well-signed and filled with volunteer helpers. No line for the women's room (for once!!) and we found our seats with an hour to go before the game. We had really lucked out in our ticket lottery--we were at midfield, with a great view of the big monitors as well. BH went off in search of food while we took selfies and tried to make heads or tails of the Argentinian fan chants. I dunno but probably something about Maradona. Or matte tea. No idea really.

BH found us some "Feijão Tropeiro" which is a wonderful Brazilian dish of pork loin, beans, farofa, kale and an egg. Warm, delicious-- a little hard to eat with only a plastic spoon. Apparently there are certain foods that different regions cannot live without (the acarajé in Bahia springs to mind) and this food is offered in their regional stadium in addition to the hotdogs and hamburgers. Loved it.  Beer was served in souvenir cups as was water and sodas. I had beer. Cold, fizzy, delicious. Better than any in the US parks (oh, all right, SF Giants stadium wins but barely--it's too cold to have a beer there anyway). 

We ate and watched the teams warm up and the Argentinians swarm in. There were at least 25,000 Argentine fans, combined with around 20,000 Brazilian fans and then about 40 Iranian fans. Seriously. A sea of blue and white. I must say that Argentines are great fans--singing and dancing and jumping. And they were not getting into fights with the Brazilians even when the Brazilians started cheering for Iran.

Yes, the Brazilians cheered for Iran. Loudly. Every time Iran got close to the goal and missed, you would hear a collective "ooooh" of disappointment. When they did a good defense or pass you could hear half a stadium sing "Ole, ole, ole, ola, Iran, Iran." I don't think Iran is that popular even IN Iran. Brazilians are so nice: they won't boo you but they will cheer for your opponent.

I personally would never cheer for Iran. I do feel sorry for them and their whole one-shirt-for-the-whole-Cup thing (see this blog post) but I make it a policy not to cheer for teams that won't let me into their home stadium. Because I am a woman.  Not because I feel very sleepy during soccer games.  

By 85 minutes and no score, the Brazilians were getting louder and the Argentinians quieter. The "Iranians" (Brazilians) had started singing "1,000 goals (as in Pele) and Maradona snorts cocaine". It sounds better in a song. I don't know--they showed crabby Maradona in the stadium on the big screen and I would seriously hate to meet him in a dark alley. I was very quiet. 

My son whose hero is Messi started to cry that there would be no goal by the Argentinian striker. He sat and mulled his hot dog while the Argentinians rose up as one and shouted "gooooooooooal" as Messi got a goal at 91 minutes. We all jumped up and down. The Argentinians were still standing and singing 10 minutes after the game ended and we left the stadium. 

Argentina 1 x Iran 0

A perfect game.

So much fun - São Paulo

My footwear for the World Cup

So we are 6 days into the World Cup and I'm having a great time. I haven't been to a stadium and some of the games have been snoozers but it is way more fun that I had imagined. As I've mentioned before, I have been to one World Cup (South Africa-2010) and living near another one (San Francisco, USA-94) but there is nothing like being in the middle of Brazil during these days.

One of the groups I joined first in moving here 6 years ago is the International Newcomers Club of São Paulo. I am no longer a newcomer, but I'm still part of the club. Most of my non-Brazilian friendships originated in INC and on Monday, I joined a Canadian, a Scot and some Germans at the Goethe Institute in Pinheiros. Goethe is a school and an institute and some other lofty things but the main joy for us on Monday: they have a bier garten. And TVs to show the game. And lots of tall blond people about.

Bier garten

The Scot and I showed up about 45 minutes before the game and most tables near the TVs were already taken. We then spread out to save seven spots for our arriving friends (I will say that traffic has been a lot worse than expected on game days). And drank our first beers. There was also food there: currywurst (?), a lunch buffet, french fries but we ended up not getting any ourselves.

Frankfurter...I love that word. So much more fun than a hot dog.

There were a number of media outlets there interviewing  Germans about their predictions for the Cup. I am not a Germany fan. I am not "against" Germany either--a genealogy test two years ago revealed that I'm about 35% German origin so blood says I need to be at least neutral. I was there because I wanted to see the fun of the "home" team. And maybe have a few beers.

Two media folks wished to interview me (and the Scot) -- I have dark blonde hair and blue eyes and that seemed to be a clear giveaway that I am German. One journalist asked if I would do an interview even after hearing that I am American. I respectfully declined, thinking that it would be better to just be neutral under the circumstances. I admit I did go get the free Germany-Brazil t-shirt at the front door so as to fit in like a chameleon. 

I won't do a play-by-play of the match which was so kind as to provide lots of opportunities to jump up and down and yell "Deutschland vor!" I really love the sound of German but I quickly found myself incompetent at pronouncing anything. I even tried the language accelerator known as "more beer." Nicht.  

I hope I'll be able to attend more games with the "home" teams--what fun! No, not the USA which I prefer to watch at home, and Brazil which of course is THE home team. I mean Cote d'Ivoire and Costa Rica and France, and some of the little teams. Where are those fans? Let me know. 

Tomorrow we drive to Ouro Preto for the Corpus Cristi holiday (4 day weekend).  On Saturday, we are in Belo Horizonte for the only game that we are seeing live--Argentina vs. Iran. BH will suffer. He cannot cheer for Argentina and Iran is not one to cheer for either. We'll go in neutral colors and take our two kids (age 7) in Messi shirts for camouflage. Messi is one of the twins' heroes so he is simply over the moon at the chance to see him play.  The other twin is likely to nap during the game.

We'll deal with the 8 hours of driving, the long lines, the security checks and everything else so that the World Cup becomes real for our sons. And for BH's father, who at age 75 will see a World Cup game live for the very first time on home turf--he was only slightly older than the twins the last time the World Cup was in Brazil. 

Good times. Vai Brasil!

Another reason to cheer - São Paulo

2002 World Cup Team. Cafu to the right in the back, Lucio number 3 next to him

So, today I was at my usual weekly Reading Mum volunteer role at my kids' English language school in São Paulo. The Year 1 students (all around 6 years old) read to me one at a time--a short book in English. I correct pronunciation or get them back on track when they get distracted by stroppy stepsisters. This morning, about five kids into the stack of books, the Year 1 classrooms started to explode with energy. I mean more than every other single day of the year. People kept saying "Lúcio, Lúcio" and I thought to myself, huh, that name sounds vaguely familiar. 

There is a reason for that. Lúcio is a 36-year old Palmeiras player (he joined in January) and has played for seven teams total (I did not know this of course; he told us when questioned) including the Brazilian World Cup team of 2002. And that was a year that Brazil won (even I knew that one!). He had his World Cup medal with him, and a special World Cup replica trophy that only World Cup winners get from an Italian sculptor. 

A World Cup trophy in amongst the plastic water bottles and ABCs

I of course could not resist. When all the little kids filed into the classroom to meet Lúcio, I went too. I had some tiny bit of right to be there as I read with Lúcio's daughter last term. For obvious reasons, I will not be telling you her name, show her photo or mention which school she attends. All I can tell you is that this cute little girl just radiated happy pride and love when her father walked in. 

Lúcio, and all I'm going to show you of his daughter--with her hand on his leg.

Just like any other parent coming to tell about his/her career, Lúcio talked about his. He answered questions about how many soccer cleats he had owned in his life, who was the best player in the world, which was his favorite club team, how many times someone had kicked a goal over his head. He answered all the questions with a smile (and in Portuguese, by the way) and with quiet confidence. It is impossible not to like him. Seriously, I dare you.

Lúcio had come from yesterday's loss 600 km away, flying in this morning, and coming directly to the school. I loved how he made his daughter a priority when he could. And what I mean by this is that if you think about these players, you think about how much money they make, how egotistical they are, how space alien-like they are (but I will stop talking about Cristiano Ronaldo soon). What you don't see behind them is their families.

Now I don't know Lúcio but let's just imagine how his life is. Especially in the twilight of his playing career. He won a World Cup in 2002, he was the captain of the team in 2006, and played as well in 2010 for coach Dunga, his hero. And in between all this he played for several European teams as well as several here in Brazil. When approached to leave Brazil last year to play again in Europe, he refused. He wanted to stay in Brazil. 

And when I watched his daughter, I understood it. His wife Dione was there too--together they have 3 kids. And these three kids and his wife get left behind when the team trains for the big games, for the travel all over the country and world and at the late night games, they are surely all asleep. I forget how many games these guys play in a year but it's unbelievable! 

When I sit with a kid to read, it doesn't occur to me what happens at their homes at night. Some go to bed without mom or dad around a lot of the time. And that makes me sad. And it must make the parent sad too.

Now Lúcio is not going to the World Cup this year. Okay, he is probably going but he is not playing. He will watch his compatriots go for the gold--and I hope he watches those games from home with his wife and three kids. And he will know the cost to players and to their families of all of the training, all of the stress and all of millions of harsh words that are leveled at the players that they must ignore.

We can't forget in the middle of all this corruption and protests and FIFA-hating and Dilma-hating, there are 11 men on the field, and 12 more on the bench, who have lived entire lives for this World Cup. And they have sacrificed--even Cristiano Ronaldo who I love to hate has had to give up "normal" life for "national service" and his own dreams. And some of them are happy with that for a while...a long while... but I'm guessing that it weighs on all of them. 

So cheer for the players. Especially the ones you have never heard of and who don't make 8000000 billion on sports ads and drinks. They are giving up some of themselves for us, the spectators. 

Another reason to cheer. If not for Lúcio this time, for the others who come after.

Yeah it's dark...but here's me and Lucio..

Vai ter Copa - São Paulo

I admit it; I'm excited for the World Cup. It's 16 days to go, I've got my Uruguay, Brazil and US shirts, my tickets to Argentina-Iran, and Shakira just released her video so I don't have to watch Pitbull and J-Lo anymore. It's time to look forward and not back at the $7000000000 zillion that was wasted.

As many of you who follow me know, I don't really like watching soccer--yeah, I liked playing it as a kid, and I'm pretty much party rice at any Palmeiras game at Pacaembu but generally, nah. So, if I'm not watching it for the football, why am I so excited?

Well, I'll tell you. In a list. Here are my top 5 reasons for me to be excited about the World Cup.

In first place, I love the human stories. The teeny-tiny teams.  The African teams. The also-rans. The ones without a hope of winning, but every bit excited about playing. My current top three:

1. Iran. Okay, so I'm American and a woman so you'd think that I wouldn't have much sympathy for these guys...but then came the "human interest story" earlier this month. The Iranian players are forbidden from trading their uniform shirts at the end of games because they don't have enough funds to buy tons of extra shirts (say, where is that oil money?) And there's a funny story about the goalie washing his own shirt and it shrinking. And then of course the jokes about the shirts being white and red and the chances of them being pink by the end: high. How can you not feel for them? I do. Well, okay, I don't want them to win, but I love that they are at the World Cup (I do realize they beat the US in 1998. S*** happens). 

Dear players: wash those socks separately in cold water.

2. Cote d'Ivoire. The elephants. Well, of COURSE I like this team as their mascot and nickname is the Elephants. As I said, I am pre-disposed to love any of the African teams because of their David & Goliath nature next to the big teams. They have qualified for three consecutive World Cups--wouldn't it be fun if they made it out of the group stage? I think so too. A new house of orange. Plus with names like Boubacar Barry, or Sol Bamba or Yaya Touré, how can you not want to yell out your cheers? And I like Drogba. Not his name. But the captain is 36 years old. Love. 15 million population, a recent civil war, an agriculture-reliant economy; a good football campaign would be GREAT for them. Go, pachyderms!

3. Costa Rica. The Ticos (what this means, I dunno) Again, here is this tiny nation that has to fight against the US and Mexico in CONCACAF. And they are in one of the two groups of death this time around: seriously, the poor kids are against England, Uruguay and Italy in the group stage. Hello? The other three teams own seven world cups between them. I definitely cheer for them against Italy which I consider staffed heavily by big dramatic babies, and against England just because I am guaranteed to get the most comments from my Brit friends about this. Uruguay I cover later. Other tidbits about Costa Rica: it is the only Latin American country to have a democracy since before 1950, and in 1949, it abolished its army. This may not be good in case they win against Italy and the bambini invade.

Next, the team that makes Brazilians cringe almost as much as their Argentinian neighbors. The team that beat them on home turf in 1950.  And no, it's not just about Diego Forlán (yay, another post where I get to put a gratuitous photo of my main soccer squeeze), but about the history and the fact that this soccer powerhouse IS teeny-tiny too.

 
4.Uruguay. La Celeste. This country is the king of cute. Literally. It has 3.25 million people (in São Paulo, that is roughly the number of people who commute from one side of the city to another on a daily basis). It is the smallest country to have won the world cup--it had 1.75 million people when it won in 1930. They knocked Brazil on its keister in 1950 when they came from behind to win--and the architect of the winning goal is still alive and coming for the World Cup. Yikes for him. Now, I admit I am not a big fan of the muncher named Luis Suarez but it looks like he may not make it anyway. Cavani is fun to watch and I think we don't need to review my Diego Forlán obsession. Listen, the man is 35 years old and won the golden boot in 2010 so it's not all a pretty face. Anyway, if you want to seem smart about football, know that Uruguay is bigger than it seems on paper.

And the most important reason of all: Those for whom the Cup has still the magic and joy.

5. The seniors and the kids. Yesterday I picked up my World Cup tickets from the distribution center in Ibirapuera. As we waited for the doors to open, I watched the 8 or so 70+ year old men in the priority line talk about watching World Cups since they were televised. Most only heard 1950's World Cup on the radio. They had stuff to say about Pele, about Garrincha, about everyone I never knew I knew--and their eyes sparkled with excitement to see the Cup in Brazil. Dear protestors: do not take the joy from these men. And possibly women though there were none there that day.

And of course, my sons. Especially the blond one whose favorite player is Lionel Messi from Argentina. My sons are seven years old. They think farts are funny, that the world revolves around them, and that soccer stars are gods. What great good fortune that they are able to be part of the magic of a live game.

So that's it. Those are my top five reasons that I am happy that there will be a World Cup here. Vai ter Copa. Vai. And I am pretty darned excited about it.

More Random Advice for Brazil Visitors - São Paulo

With just three weeks to go before the start of the World Cup, I began to think about how people who have never been here before are going to react to various places and occurrences.

I still remember setting foot here in Brazil for the first time—back in 1995 when I was working for Visa risk management. We visited Rio and São Paulo on a tour of banks that were facing large amounts of credit card fraud.  I don’t much remember the banks except for Bradesco and its so-called City of God, the enormous bank campus in Osasco.  It seemed bigger than my American college campus, and BH just told me that it is still growing. It was my first introduction to Brazilian coffee in its tiny cups. I didn’t realize how dangerous it was and every time the uniformed coffee lady came by the meeting room, I accepted another tiny shot. I ended up with blurred vision, a wildly-palpitating heart and a room full of very amused Brazilians.

I also remember moving here in 1998 just at the beginning of the telecom privatization. It is hard to believe but people here used to pay thousands of dollars for a phone line—they were listed as household assets.  I would not call cell phones cheap here now but they don’t cost more than cars either.  I fell in love with Brazil and my Brazilian and look where that’s got me (just kidding, BH!!)

During my first tour of duty here (1998-2001), my artist uncle visited me. He is the closest brother to my mom, though not in distance. He is the closest my family has to crazy-wonderful – he makes art out of found objects, out of Styrofoam, out of paint and mylar and whatever. I am fortunate to own a number of his pieces.  James had been invited here for an art show in Brasilia and stopped in for a few days in São Paulo. I will never forget his visit because of the beauty he saw and the beauty he shared. 

This is as close as you need to get to a favela. From wikipedia

What? Beauty in São Paulo, the mess of concrete, polluted rivers and pothole-marked roads? Yes. Beauty. As I drove him from the airport, my uncle exclaimed at the geometry of the brick, metal and laundry-hung favela shacks. He marveled at the hives of electric wires, the boxy 70s buildings, and the trees popping out of piles of rubbish, growing against all odds. And his comments made me feel good about where I lived, and made me look at it with new eyes. Eyes I forget to look out of sometimes when I am annoyed by the daily life of a big city.

Based on James’ lesson to me about how to see Brazil, here is how I would do Brazil if I were seeing it for the first time:

1.     Expect the unexpected. Or don’t expect it--just enjoy it happening.  Say you get stuck in a two-hour traffic jam. Look around. Don’t get on facebook and complain. Look around at the geometry of that favela, the lady in the next car fixing her hair and ignoring the kids climbing over the back seat. Watch the water rush out of the many creeks and into the river. When the unexpected happens, take advantage, not offense. And if someone starts talking to you at the local bakery, participate. Be part of the country, don’t just visit it.

2.     Be positive. Brazilians will complain about their country. A lot.  My  recommendation is to not jump on that band wagon. It turns out that this will cause offense: while people from here may say “the river is filled with garbage”, they don’t necessarily want the tourists to agree with them. They want someone to say back “well, the trees on the edge seem to like it—I noticed how many flowering trees were there.”  Trust me, this is true. I have been here 6 years and I still sometimes step in the wrong place and people say “if you don’t like it, why don’t you leave?” 

    And please be careful of politics if you are American—the US, at the very least, does not have a sweet-smelling past here.  You may think they want you to agree with their complaints about corruption, or Dilma or whatever, but then you might find yourself on the receiving end of what the CIA did here during the military dictatorship. My advice: smile and say “s*** happens everywhere.”  Especially if you don't know what kind of democracy Brazil has or how justice works here. Listen, smile, and ask questions rather than say statements. Keep those ears open and learn. 

3.     Brazil is more expensive than you think. The pervasive thought about the developing world is that it is cheap. Yes, your dollar and euro is valuable right now but it still will be fighting against an immensely overpriced restaurant industry (São Paulo and Rio), the tax structure of imported goods, and of course the inflation that accompanies the mega event. I suggest keeping it to yourself if you find something very expensive…or very cheap. Unless you are negotiating for a US$500 hammock. Then that is VERY EXPENSIVE and you should complain.  PS You are not necessarily being taken advantage of at every moment. Brazilians pay for stuff through the teeth.

4.     Tip everyone. Okay, maybe not your friends you are visiting. I remember talking about this with a Brazilian friend a couple of years ago. Someone asked if you are supposed to tip the gas station guy for checking the tires or the oil. My Brazilian friend was almost offended—‘of course not! That is part of the service!’ But I always tip. I always go to the same gas station where I have known the attendants for 6 years and I always give them a $2 or a $5 for those services. And I get great service, usually a fun conversation and people who know my car.  I also tip at the grocery store (not necessary), the taxi cab (not necessary and not always—just if the guy has put up with evil twins on a bad day), the waiter who has made my day. It works for me. And it’s not exactly breaking the bank.

5.     If you are going to use your high school Spanish to get by here, make sure you let people know that you realize that Brazil speaks Portuguese not Spanish. Also our capital is Brasilia not Buenos Aires or Rio de Janeiro. Personally I would highly recommend a quick peruse of Wikipedia to know our population, our president’s name, the size of the economy, and the name of our most famous soccer player (it is not Maradona). Hint: the latter played for the NY Cosmos but is not in fact American as I thought when I was 7 years old.

6.     Skip the favela tour. I hate the favela tour. Why in the world would you do it? They are not animals in cages.

7.     Laugh. As much as you can. Smile at people in the street and say “bom dia” or “boa tarde.” Shrug and let things rolls off you. Let Brazil into your heart.

My two cents. Call it my tip to you.

Personal Security at the World Cup - Brazil

 

Welcome!

As of today, there are thirty-one days left until the opening of the World Cup. However you feel about the money wasted, the terrible treatment of those less fortunate, or FIFA, the Cup comes anon. It won't be canceled by the recent dengue outbreak, by the demonstrations or by the lack of water. Who needs a shower anyway?  This last input from my 7 year olds who are looking forward to the taps running dry.

This blog is specifically directed to those coming to Brazil for the first time for the Cup or for business related to the Cup, or because you are clearly insane since you have chosen to come here at a time when Brazil is least like Brazil. This is a mega-event and has little to do with the friendly, easy-going style that normally is around here (okay, not in São Paulo which is a stressed city).

So, here we go. I am giving my personal advice on your security. I am not a security consultant but I've lived here for 9 years and I think I get it. I have been to World Cup games in South Africa and I've seen the madness southern hemisphere style. Please be aware that this blog post is not designed to scare you but only to give you some ideas of what MIGHT happen while you are here. How you choose to react is up to you.

Preparation

My strong advice here is to leave nothing to chance. Don't arrive here without a hotel room or without an idea of where the official taxi stand is, or without a few words of Portuguese (please and thank you go a long way). Know the number to call the police (190) and your consulate in your area (up to you to research). 

Do not expect to use dollars here. This is not Argentina (cambio! cambio!). Do not carry wads of cash. Use an ATM in the airport to withdraw what you think you will need, but keep an eye out to see who is watching you use the ATM. (*Numerous reader comments are coming back that airport ATMs are NOT safe. I don't know what to say here--it's never happened to me. To be safe, head to a currency exchange there and do it that way). Separate cash into individual pockets. Do not be distracted. Do not chat with people in line. Do not tell them where you are staying, how you are getting there or take any offered rides (see Arrival below).  

Take more than one credit card. Keep one back at your hotel or in a different place. Be aware that there are places here that still take only Visa or only MasterCard. Amex is less accepted and forget Diner's and some of those others. Remember you are in a mostly cash society so have some on hand at all times.

Pack light. The less baggage you have to maintain control of, the happier you will be.  I wouldn't necessarily attempt to dress like a Brazilian because everyone will know you are a gringo anyway--just don't dress flashy. Leave A&F home (or better yet, burn it), bring a few non-brand t-shirts and jeans and call it a day.  Tevas and Crocs will identify you as gringo at 200 meters. Be very aware of the weather where you will be--it will be cold in Sao Paulo (most likely), warm in Salvador and hotter than an inferno in Manaus. Be aware that Sao Paulo is colder than it looks in print--there is no central heat in most places (not counting chic hotels) so bring a pullover, jumper, sweater or whatever you call it in your home country.

Do not carry a laptop case or a backpack that looks designed for a laptop. Be aware that there will be bad guys in the airport and they will probably be figuring out which taxi to follow. Sorry, but true.  It's happened to a few of my friends.

Do not wear or bring any jewelry. Yes, I am authorizing your husbands to remove their wedding bands but not to go to the putarias. Don't carry a purse. Money belts are great.  You will need to carry ID for many places in Brazil--museums, many buildings, stadiums. I don't know if FIFA will require an original document to get into the stadiums or if a photocopy will do. I suggest carrying copies, notarized preferably, for places OTHER THAN the stadiums. At the stadiums, go original and go money belt.

I used to suggest leaving smartphones at home but I've changed my mind--those are going to help you navigate the countryside here and make sure your taxi is not taking you to Zimbabwe before getting to your hotel. Note: sometimes the Zimbabwe rides are necessary to avoid traffic. The airport taxis are normally highly reliable--I mean Guarucoop here in São Paulo which has a fixed fee for rides and it is not in their interest to lollygag you about. On the reverse side, the name Guarucoop on the taxi door means you are coming from the international airport and you may become a target.You do the risk analysis.

On the major warning side of smartphones: these allow you to become distracted. The more distracted you are, the more likely you will be the first victim of a robbery. If you must look at it while out and about, step into a doorway or a store where you can check it in peace. I can tell you from many conversations with the military police here in São Paulo, the bad guys select victims by who is paying the least amount of attention to what is going on around him/her.

Arrival

On your arrival, expect big lines.  Be patient. Bring a snack. Smile, you are in Brazil. What, your luggage is taking two hours? At least it's coming. Maybe. There should be official helpers around and you can trust those...I will post what they are wearing once I know it. You must have a visa to visit Brazil from the US and from Canada at least, not sure about other countries -- make sure you check that before you leave!  

Once out in the arrival hall, you may want to hit the ATM or go directly to the taxi stand. I am guessing lines at the taxi stand will be terrible and you will think about accepting the offer of someone hanging around saying "taxi, taxi?". Don't do it. Wait in line at Guarucoop (in Sao Paulo) or the private taxi stand in Rio, or wherever you are. You do not tip taxis in Brazil though you can round up or if they were particularly good, giving a R$5 or R$10 bill (depending on distance) is always nice.  Carry a google map printout of where you are going and let them know you know. Have the address written on a piece of paper and try to do the minimum of waving your iPhone around.

Do not hop into private vans unless you have contracted them through hotels or private agencies. Bad stuff has happened to American co-eds. They cannot be trusted. Buses in Rio and buses in São Paulo are fine (watch for pickpockets, of course, and the distract-and-grab is the most common). Try to stay as close to the money-taker as possible or away from the exit door. Always figure out your route before you go--I suggest Moovit for public transport which is available in Rio and in Sao Paulo, not sure about the other cities. 

Getting to the stadium

Go early. If you have a chance to go by official transfer, do it. If you can go by metro, do it. I can't imagine what traffic will be like near these stadiums but I'm willing to guess that it will be a parking lot LONG before you get near it. Taxis will overcharge, for sure, even if it is illegal.  The earlier you go, the less stressed you will be about it. Enjoy the atmosphere. Eat some "churrasquinho de gato."

Stadium gear. I realize that you are all coming because you support a country team. I suggest that if that country team is NOT Brazil, you be somewhat careful outside the stadium during the big games. If you cheer for say, Uruguay, and they are playing Brazil in the semi-final match, do not wear your Forlán shirt to the stadium. Put it on when you get inside, paint your face when you get inside, do your happy dance inside. If the "worst" happens and your team beats Brazil, get out of that team's shirt and wear black. I am not kidding.  I have seen fans at a qualifying match verbally abuse the 10 Equadorians who were there cheering on their team. Things can get ugly. Especially when alcohol is involved.

More information about security in taxis and public transportation is here.

Inside the Stadium

BH brought to my attention this weekend that the security forces within and immediately outside the stadiums are actually privately contracted by FIFA. In a blog post last week, Juca Kfouri, arguably the biggest expert on football in this country, pointed out that the federal police had yet to find out who these personal security forces are (20,000 officers, apparently).  And Mr. Blatter of FIFA  has now stated that FIFA is not responsible for any security issues within the stadiums. What? And what are the military and federal police doing--are they inside or outside or what? Confused? Me too.

The important part of this for you, the fan in the stadium, to be aware that there does not seem to be a great deal of the coordination between the private and the Brazilian security forces within the stadium. If you feel uncomfortable with something in the stadium, go with your gut and get out of the situation or area.

If the Worst Happens and you are held up

Remember: bad guys here do not want to hurt you. They simply want your money because they are desperate. You are not. You are here because you care about goals and penalties. You care about your life. If you are held up at gunpoint, or threatened with a gun or knife or whatever, you need to follow these instructions from this past blog. Do NOT resist. You are too important. 

I hope and expect this will not happen to you, but it has happened to my husband, to other ex-patriates here so it CAN happen. Before all the Brazilians jump on me about talking negatively about their country, I do know it happens everywhere. But I don't want it to happen in Brazil because I care about it. 

All crime should be reported to the local police station. You will need to ask where that is, or call 190 from any phone. There are English-speaking attendants. The reason you want to report it is that then the police will be tracking crime concentrations and may put more men and women on the street there to stop the next crime from happening. Be part of the solution.

Health

Bring any medication you may need with you. Tough tummy? Bring that Immodium or Gas-X or whatever. You don't want to try to explain that to the pharmacist in English. Wait, just call me first because I think I'll enjoy that.  

Bring bug spray. Everywhere. There is a very serious dengue outbreak in a lot of Brazil. Prevention by covering yourself by bug spray is HIGHLY recommended. Bring sunblock if you are Canadian or as white as one.

If you should get seriously ill, get yourself to the best private hospital you can find in your host city. In Sao Paulo, I recommend Albert Einstein or Sirio Libanese. Not only for the standard of care, but for the fact that there will be someone there who speaks English. Of course, if you do not speak English, what are you doing reading this blog anyway? Contact your consulate if you need more assistance.

Street smarts

We've covered this in a prior blog here, but it's worth reviewing. Be aware, don't be paranoid. Be most aware of the distraction trick where someone seemingly nice wants to chat you up about the exchange visit they did to your fine country while their accomplice is making off with your unattended whatever. Happened to BH. Only has to happen once. Try to keep all your cash separated into different pockets and cards in your money belt. Always have some cash on hand--if you say you have nothing, you might piss someone off.

There will undoubtedly be protests when you are here. There was a lot of corruption and a lot of bad things that happened  locally on our way to hosting the Cup. The anger is not directed against the tourists so I believe that you will be safe from that. But don't join any "parades" okay? And ask your hotel before leaving in the morning if they are aware of any pressure spots, so to speak.

In Sum.

I really don't want to scare anyone here. Brazil is filled with wonderful things to do: get out there and do them! Visit the parks, the museums (I can meet you at the spider and snake museum in SP any time!), the beach, the shopping centers, the historic downtown. Know where you are going when you leave your hotel, and know how you are going to get there. Don't read your smartphone. Go sit at the local bakery and watch the people go by. Find out where your country team fans hang out and hang out at the bar. Smile. Brazil does indeed welcome you. Unless you are Uruguay and then the ghost might just be too big.

Cheer for Brazil! I don't mean just the team.

Brazil Volunteering - São Paulo

From brasilvoluntario.com.br

Earlier this year, I signed up for the Brasil Voluntário program for volunteering during the World Cup. It was at a moment when I was most concerned about how tourists would be welcomed to this wonderful country during the Cup. The protests were on, people making a mess in the streets, and negativity about the event's arrival was at an all-time high.

I participated in the four-week online course. It was much harder than I thought it would be and took me probably a total of 10 hours to complete. Yes, I was even forced to prove that I speak English. I wrote them a letter that said if they noted my ID document, they would see that I am American. Although it has been pointed out to me that many Americans do not speak English. And I don't just mean Texans (haha, can't resist). 

I had two major concerns during the coursework. The first was that one of the sections, on first aid, was teaching people how to give CPR without even a video. Compressions, etc. Personally I think that could have been better done with a video. And secondary to that issue (an addendum if you will) is that the course then went on to explain that if CPR didn't work, there was always a defibrillator around and that should be used next. Ummm, what? You are putting a defibrillator into the hands of the untrained. Please, no.

The second major concern was the section on the Environment. There were five main subject areas, one of which was the environment. No, not recycling. Knowing which parts of the country were pampas, tropical, sub-tropical, etc. and all the terminology. Like a tourist was going to walk up to me and say "excuse me, is Belo Horizonte in the pampas or in the cerrado?" What were they thinking?

So, I'm proud to say I passed the online course, even with a 44% in the Environment. All scores were supposed to be above 50% but I think they gave me a "bye" since I speak English and they are desperate for English-speakers. Unfortunately I cannot make the in-person training so my flirtation with volunteering for the Brazil World Cup is over.  Still I'll always have this letter to prove I made it:

Você está convidado(a) para a próxima etapa de seleção e preparação do Brasil Voluntário para a Copa do Mundo FIFA Brasil 2014. No treinamento presencial teremos quatro encontros, realizados nos dias 26 de abril, 03 de maio, 17 de maio e 24 de maio. A cada final de semana apresentaremos uma temática diferente e complementar aos conteúdos desenvolvidos no treinamento virtual,fundamental para sua atuação, caso seja selecionado(a) como voluntário da Copa.

Good luck, volunteers. And yes, Belo Horizonte is in the pampas. Or wait, no it's not. Go study.

Pigeon disease - São Paulo

While we drove back from picking up kids at soccer, my housekeeper (and sometime babysitter) received a phone call from her mom. Her mom was on the way to a memorial service for a nephew (Teia's cousin) who had just died. 

At some point, I really need to post about my housekeeper and her crazy family of six sisters--Teia has been with us for 6 years now and it is a never ending soap opera of bad husbands, house take-overs, brushes with the law, etc. Not for her necessarily but with the six sisters, there's always something happening. I tell her she needs to write a story for Globo and have it be the next soap opera at 8 pm.

Anyway, I asked Teia how the cousin had died. And she said "doença de pombo" which translates as "pigeon disease." And somehow at that moment, it struck us both as funny especially since one of the twins piped up from the backseat "parakeet disease"? But it turns out the disease is real and carried by pigeons. It affects the respiratory system but only really kills if someone has some other compromising factor like AIDS or diabetes.  There is more information in English here and in Portuguese the story about a sufferer of the disease here.

This is not one of the diseases that concern me here. We have a decided lack of pigeons in my neighborhood and my immune system is compromised only as much as I am a reading mum to 23 first graders who seem to alternate colds and fevers week over week. But dengue fever is out and about in my neighborhood and know several people who  have come down with it. It is normally not a killer either--yes there is one version with hemorrhages and that does kill.

This reminds me again of the work that my one English student is doing. She is a professor in the preventative medicine group at University of São Paulo and her studies keep showing that the middle to upper classes here are simply not vaccinating their kids as much as they should be. Some feel that diseases attack only the poor folk (e.g., tuberculosis) and some just have the feeling that various diseases have been eradicated (e.g. polio) and there is no need to put Pedro or Maria through the pain of shots. 

You can't vaccinate against dengue or pigeon fever. But there are others that you can prevent. If you are coming for the World Cup, it doesn't hurt to follow the CDC recommendations here. I think some are a little over the top (malaria, rabies) but a nice little hepatitis shot never hurt anyone. And watch out for the pigeons. 

Please come - Rio de Janeiro

Copacabana Palace hotel (no, you're not drunk; it's out of focus)

Yesterday I tried really hard to see Rio as a tourist. Oh, okay, I am a tourist but one who speaks Portuguese and has lived in Brazil for 9 years. I tried to be worried on Copacabana Beach about whether a pickpocket was standing behind me as I watched a Peruvian artist create unbelievable landscapes with his fingers, a brush, a knife and some Kleenex. I kept my camera in my pocket, except for a photo of the Copacabana Palace where I got engaged in 2000. 

I can't do it. I know Rio is filled with dangers like any big city. I know it has recently been written about by a Danish "journalist" who was horrified by the destruction of lives as favelas are moved to make way for the Olympics. I woke this morning to the sounds of someone yelling "socorro" or "help" right outside our window (when BH looked out, it was unclear what was happening and there was a group of people outside). 

My experience these five days has been wonderful. Magical. A city where we continue to be amazed that anyone gets anything done rather than sitting and watching boats head out to sea, or kicking a ball around the beach, or enjoying a sidewalk juice or coffee or beer. A city that is made for walking--the beautiful horseshoe shape of Leme and Copacabana remains my favorite with its undulating waves of black and white tile, but many places are fun. Ipanema's back streets to the Lagoa where men argue over Flamengo or Fluminense (don't ask me: Rio soccer teams). Santa Teresa's winding streets and walls covered with beautiful paintings of the tram that is out of service, seemingly forever under repair.

We have asked for directions from bus drivers, from flower sellers, from parking attendants and security guards. They have all answered us politely and helpfully, one parking attendant even walking me down the street to find someone who had lived in the neighborhood for 20 years and could better answer my question. Kids are waved onto buses where they don't pay. Fisherman hold out small fish so the twins can throw them back into the bay.  Rudeness has been few and far between.

We have walked through Santa Teresa and Copacabana as night is falling. We are not carrying valuables but we look about as gringo as possible, excepting BH who is the only darker-skinned, darker-eyed person in our group. My stepkids are as white as any Canadian, one with blue eyes, and the twins can't stop speaking English no matter what I try. We haven't had a problem.

So, I will tell you potential visitors to Brazil for the World Cup or otherwise: you do yourself a great disfavor if you avoid this city due to security, danger or fear. Yes, it is possible you will be pick-pocketed. That happens everywhere. It is possible the taxi driver will take you for a longer ride than necessary. I promise it will be exciting as they speed on the wrong side of the street, through red lights and then come to an abrupt halt and say: "where were we going anyway?" 

This is the City of God. You cannot avoid the hug from the Cristo Redentor (Christ the Redeemer) on top of his hill. You can see him from the beach, from Santa Teresa, from downtown. He welcomes you. Rio welcomes you. Please come.