Office view - São Paulo

Just in case you wonder, I have two offices. One is a home office. This other one is this one. The clube. Love it.
 

Too cool for school - São Paulo

Photo credit: estrolabio.blogs.sapo.pt

I'm working remotely from our club today here in São Paulo. I've mentioned our club before--it's small, friendly and has been a great part of especially our kids' sports lives.  

It's around 10 am and the place is crawling with kids ages 1-13 years old. No, it's not a holiday (yet--Carnaval begins shortly). It's just that these kids are the afternoon school kids. This is something I never get used to here: the school day that begins at 1 pm. 

When we first moved here in 2008, the kids were too young for "real" school and we put them in a half-day nursery school. In 2009, we applied to and got them into Escola Vera Cruz, one of the best private schools (my opinion) in São Paulo. It is 100% Brazilian--we were one of the few non-totally-Brazilian families there. 

Because we applied late in the process (I had no clue then how crazy it was to get into a private school here--some schools have 4-year wait lists!) and we had twins who needed separate classrooms, the only spaces available to us were in the afternoon period. While it is not too strange to have afternoon kindergarten in the US, it continues far beyond kindergarten here.  This is why I see tons of kids here at the club in the morning. Mornings are their social/sports times, then they go to school until 5 pm.

So here is how a lot of it breaks down. The primary schools usually have two time periods a day. This is pre-K through about 6th grade, though it depends a bit on which school your kids attend. The morning kids arrive at 8 am (with their parents or in a small school van privately paid for) and they leave at 12:15 pm. That is around four hours of school if you wipe out the 15 minutes for late arrivals and chaos, and just barely over three if you also count out snack time and play time. And you are paying $12,000US annually for those four hours, by the way. 

The afternoon classes start at 1 pm and go until 5:15 pm.  Some high schools have classes only in the evenings. When my stepson was studying to get into college in his senior year, he went to class from 6 pm-11 pm. Of course those hours work for the night-owl teenagers, but not for their parents.

So kids, morning or afternoon periods, are always home for lunch. There always needs to be a maid or nanny or family member at home to care for the kids. While many are kept busy in clubs or academies of swimming or martial arts in the off-period, you are still talking about responsibility of the parents, or a trusted taxi driver, to get them there. 

In the US, kids this age go to class from 9 am - 3 pm. Barring lunch and recess, that is five hours of school at least. We don't have them at home for lunch. Many after-school activities are at the school. 

My kids go to an international school here and attend from 8 am-3:15 pm. Two days a week they have afterschool activities until 4:30 pm. Personally I think it's a better use of everyone's time. In terms of hours per year, we may be even--I will have to look it up. We have a longer winter break in June-July, but a shorter summer one in December- January. 

Recently there has been a movement to change to "escola integral" or full-day school. Brazil's education system is routinely at the bottom of the heap worldwide and this is one of the ideas to give it a kick-start. This is one article on the benefits (sorry, Portuguese only).  It is one of the areas where I will come straight out and say that I like the American system better. I think kids should be in school all day. There is no way someone's nanny is going to be able to provide learning experiences for kids at the level of a school. And rare is the parent who has the financial wherewithal or patience to stay home and provide the education themselves.

I'll just never get used to seeing elementary school kids around the club at 11 am. It just doesn't feel right.

Hair of the Dog - São Paulo

And now for the morning after...I just loved this little coffee ground and coffee "sock" set up served to me at a little restaurant in Perdizes (technically "birds" but really a neighborhood). You scoop in as much coffee as you want to the sock, then pour through the hot water. The other glass bottle is filled with sugar for those who like it sweet.

Hope that hangover is feeling better, Brazil!

Happy Carnaval - Joanópolis

I hate to tell you but if you were looking here for stories of sambadromos and street parties, you've come to the wrong place! We are spending Carnaval, for the second year in a row, at the fazenda where there are no people, no crowds, no noise and no music (except from the ipod). 

Happy Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Carnaval!

Fourteen - Joanópolis

The labbie with a floatie--his back legs don't work so well anymore

Today my crazy chocolatey wonderful love-of-my-life canine turns fourteen. His name is Caju, or officially Cajoo Kingdon of Chocolate. Yes, spelled exactly like that because his amateur breeder didn't know how to spell "Kingdom" nor understand the gringa wanting to name her dog for the cashew nut. You cay "KAH-jooo" or "Joo-Joo" or anything in between. He was born on March 3, 2000 in São Paulo. He has lived here, in Miami and moved back with us in 2008.

I have written a book about Caju. It's 30,000 words long and will probably never be published. I simply had to get down his story. It is subtitled "Duro de Matar" or "Hard to Kill" which is the  nickname his oncologist gave him after his third mastocitoma surgery.

You see, Caju was never supposed to be fourteen. As a puppy, a saliva gland was blocked and exploded leaving a huge hole and scar in his neck. During recuperation he ran through a barbed wire fence. He kept running and bleeding after the ball.

At age 1, he was diagnosed with epilepsy, and we had him neutered shortly thereafter to make sure it was not passed on. At two, he was found to have terrible bone spurs and fragments in his elbow--the vet in Miami assured me that Caju would probably not be able to walk at age 5. At three, the same vet found a mastocitoma that I thought was a mosquito bite. And from there he got pancreatitis, was poisoned by someone while in our backyard in Miami and survived three bouts of canine tick disease--he nearly lost his life in the first bout--only four blood transfusions, including one from his older brother saved him. 

Two more mastocitomas, various bug issues, terrible arthritis, he's really done all of it. He was never supposed to be here at fourteen.

But he's here. He's white in the face and on his chest and in between the toes of his paws. He is chubby, limping and often barks just because he's old.  His body is failing him now--a dog who my brother set out to tire out from playing ball one day spent the next three hours playing catch and retrieve. My brother tired first.  Caju's eyes are slowly dulling from cataracts though his hearing remains good--he can hear food hitting the ground in the kitchen from any room in the house.

Doga

He sleeps upside down. I call it doga. It doesn't look comfortable but it is. He snores. He wants nothing more than to be with you, preferably on top of you. He hates a lightning storm. He loves water and swimming. He loves barbecue. He loves me. He loves attention of any kind including kids launching themselves onto his neck. He licks. He has bad breath. He's never met a person he doesn't like. He is the perfect dog. He is a one and only.

Happy birthday, Caju, my little Brazil nut!

Ball boys - São Paulo

Today I returned to tennis lessons after more than a year off. I had been on the waitlist all of last year and with our club soaring in popularity, a place never opened up. I missed all of the classes in February so far because of the heat--the gringa just melts on the red clay courts.

I pay around US$200 for a month of classes. We have four women total in the class plus our usual teacher who is Summo. Summo was my teacher two years ago as well--his name is perfect for him as he is a big bear of a guy, though he does remain quite more clothed than the white-panted guys. Or is that lack-of-panted guys. He is less of a bear now--he was very sick at the beginning of the year and just returned to teaching. He's at least 20 pounds lighter.

My favorite part of tennis at the club? Okay, there are two things. No, three. Summo, of course who is a funny mix of humor and pressure to do better. The second is the awesome red clay court--having grown up with hard courts I have really enjoyed the sliding skidding fun of a clay court. And three, the ball boys. 

Along with my $200 a month which goes to the club and the professor, I pay $10US per month for a ball boy to pick up all the tennis balls. I have never in my life had the luxury of a ball boy except at this club. These kids are all around 17-18 years old, gangly, skinny, polite, all working during the day to make money to go to high school at night. They're universally happy to be there. I'm universally happy to see them there. 

Morning glory - São Paulo

I am not a city person. I don't really care that I can walk to the bakery, see a play or have something to eat at any time of night or day. I would love to live in a suburb. 

But there are some mornings when I love the city. This is my view down Avenida Faria Lima as I drive my kids to school, 7:45 am. It makes me happy. Until the bus on my right tries to squish me for no apparent reason.