Sambaland

Commentary on my life in Brasil

Sunday, November 19, 2006

An adventurous day....

What to do on a cloudy Sunday when your husband flies off to Rio with his father? Take your kid and your housekeeper to visit her sister & family. And drive yourself for a change... What day was today again? Oh yeah... the final football championships. What road did we need to take to get to the sister's house? The one which went by the stadium which happens to be the biggest in SP holding tens of thousands of fans. We couldn't see the road for the masses of beer-swilling heavily tatooed people - who in turn peered through the windows, directed traffic, indicated for us to stop, rocked the car a bit (in fun), and lept onto the fender to get a better view of the team arriving at the stadium (oh yes, we timed it perfectly!). It was unreal. And time consuming. But unreal. We drove towards Embu (city of arts) and turned off into a slightly dodgy area. We finally stopped at an alley where there were 4 or 5 shirtless men sitting on the corner as a kind of welcoming committee. I managed to get the car half way up the alley, and was greeted by two incredibly smiley girls. Dark dark dark with shining teeth and mischeivious eyes. Lucia's sister hung back in the doorway to their house with a big smile on her face. And a big hug for me. I had been speaking with her for over a year by phone, taken her son to the beach, but this was the first time we had managed to meet face to face. Lucia warned me, but seeing her home for the first time was a big shock. It was truely a work in progress. The kitchen was tiled, but the rest of the house in poured concrete was still unpainted & unfinished. The sofa was reclaimed, and a great effort was made by putting fabric on it to make it look presentable. A car windsheild was used as a tabletop. Handmade and recycled items were used everywhere, and I couldn't help but notice in great use were many of the items we had given to Lucia to pass on. I also couldn't help but notice just how clean it was. There was a warm, fresh cake just out of the oven, and freshly made mango juice to drink. Divine. Three children and two adults (three when Lucia stays on the weekend) shared two bedrooms and one bathroom. There was a pane of glass in the window which had fallen out & been replaced with a plastic bag. There was a car sitting outside the front door which was not in use due to one small spare part which needed replacement. There was so much lacking. And so much happiness. The girls never stopped smiling once. The kids played happily for the better part of four hours. The car was often checked on as they were a little afraid someone might try to nick it. We stayed til the sun started to set & the clouds became a bit heavier & were in the happy position to have food put on the table for us. Dinner was simple & yummy - rice, black beans, pumpkin, & stewed chicken - and the generocity in light of so little to give was staggering. Lucia's sister's husband was working (he works a six day week and departs the house 5am and returns around 9pm) and so it was just the girls. The hours passed quickly. Jasper and Maria Vitoria played spiderman (I think she got what he was talking about) and we listened to the fireworks go off to celebrate Sao Paulo's victory. Hmm. 7:30pm and it was time to go home. We got in the car, and it started to drizzle - no - rain - no - .. oh no! Downpour. Thunder. Lightening. Torrential rain. It was the perfect end to such a surreal day. We entered the Marginal Pinheiros (a massive 7 lane highway which circumnavigates the city) at near 0 visibility. Nice first experience driving it without a real guide. Lucia kind of knew her way, but we generally winged it. And we kicked ass. Got home more efficiently than Eduardo could have done (glad you don't read enough English - yet! - to understand that one Eduardo! Made my sleepy boy a toasty & tucked him up with the Cat in the Hat (the perfect rainy night bedtime story). And now - I am getting back to work. hooofah.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Nasty Boys

Recently I drove to the supermarket just down the road (on my own for a change). I was stopped at the traffic light, and there were a group of 7 policemen in varying locations at the crosswalk. I figured they must be looking for someone.
As I watched (and the lights at the intersection in question are indeed very long), the police systematically stopped all the men on motorcycles, and ordered them to place their hands on their helmets. There was an entire queue of motorcycles between cars poised just so delicately balancing their bikes while their hands were in the air.
The police took each man in turn and grabbed them by the thumb first and then twisted it over the palm of their hand. They did so with extreme agression and held tightly to the motorcyclists left hand while patting them down in what appeared to be a search for weapons.
The procedure was forceful, intrusive, and almost violent in nature. The men succumbed in a willing and docile manner. It was surreal to watch.
What I still can't figure out is what happens to the right hand of the motorcyclist? Aren't most people right-handed? If they wanted to attack, wouldn't they immediately and instinctively use the right hand?
Anyway, when I spoke to the security gaurds at the supermarket & pointed out this unusual activity asking if there was a recent crime they were screening for, they shrugged and said, "Necessary precaution. Lots of crime in traffic and the majority carried out by men on motorbikes." "It's normal," they said.
I think living here in Sao Paulo my whole sense of "normal" has gone totally down the toilet. And I thought Thailand was bad.

Monday, November 06, 2006

My beautiful mother


Beautiful, beautiful, Rio - complimented by my beautiful mother....