Greetings blog followers!
I'm back with one of my latest adventures, and might I say that it was easily one of the coolest of my life...a week-long trip to the AMAZON JUNGLE!
So, let me say that my knowledge of the Amazon was probably equivalent to most Americans who once saw an episode on the History Channel, once read an article in National Geographic, or once viewed the movie Anaconda. Thankfully, those few instances were enough to peak my interest in booking a trip, and thank god I took advantage of it!
We had our Spring Break at the end of last month, and much to your possible dislike of what I'm about to say: I was tired of beaches. Beaches to Brazil are like Walgreen's or Starbucks to cities...they're at every corner. I've taken advantage of plenty of beach time and thus, was inspired to be a little more adventurous and see another side of Brazil that I had not yet gotten to know. Insert 6 day boat trip through the Amazon Jungle as the perfect fix.
We flew to the west side of the country, landing in Manaus, right along the Rio Negro (Black River) and the Amazon River. The city of about 3 million is a bustling port town that embraces its robust indigenous culture and sprawling natural resources. Our stay there was short though, simply stopping at the market to pick up some snacks before boarding our boat and hitting the water.
"Rustic" had a new definition when it comes to our trip. We boarded our two-story wooden cruiser and were off in a heartbeat. The main level housed a mini-kitchen where all of our meals were cooked, two simple toilets for guys and gals, and a shower head that pumped water from the river to stay relatively clean for the week. Towards the front was a table for us to eat and then the captain's quarters. Upstairs was a mini-veranda for taking in the sun and then a covered deck where we hung our hammocks to sleep at night.
At first, I wasn't sure what we were going to get ourselves into and didn't know if the trip would be an absolute blast or if we'd have way too much down time with nothing to do. I was, indeed, excited about disconnecting from phone/internet for a week despite what time we might have to kill. It quickly became evident though that our time in the world's most rich area of wildlife was going to be the trip of a lifetime. After making a quick stop at the meeting of the waters (where the two rivers divide impressively in distinct colors due to acidity differences), we made our first stop for a quick jungle hike where we saw a number of lizards, monkeys, sloths, and a few Cayman (essentially alligators) in their natural environment. I was impressed...and there was a level of extreme coolness factor to the fact that you saw the animals (at first bringing you back to your childhood days at the zoo) to only realize that you're in the Amazon Jungle and that these animals are not being held captive in some glass container, but rather are living their lives the way they should be. At the same time, you then realize that you don't have a glass window protecting you from these animals in the odd chance they would want to attack you. This brought a new level of excitement to the trip.
The scenery was ABSOLUTELY BREATHTAKING. And the natural peace and quiet was refreshing. We would cruise along the river for hours and I found myself simply staring at the pure beauty of this incredible place. We would dock in little nooks along the riverside at night to avoid potential storms and would enjoy the most magnificent sunsets/moonrises highlighted with a backdrop of shining stars and the sound of thousands of species of nocturnal animals making their appearances known to their counterparts. It was quite simply, the most awesome and peaceful evenings I've had in my life.
During the days we would cruise again along the river to our destinations while simultaneously spotting incredible wildlife. I was thoroughly impressed with our guide. A 16 year veteran of the Amazon, this man not only spoke beautiful English, his talent at his work was superb. His ability to spot these animals amidst the dense forest was mind boggling...and he could identify species from far away. His stories were priceless and it was evident that he was the best in the business and in the area as we encountered local communities that treated him like a treasured friend. We took a few piranha fishing trips during our days, which was probably one of my favorite things. We took out our old cane poles and attached fresh meat to rudimentary hooks...you'd place the line in the water and these vicious savages would attack your cane ruthlessly! We even caught one that was so big and powerful that the guide held it up to a thick tree branch and the piranha snapped it in half...a clean break.
At night, we would take out our canoes and flashlights and went night hunting for nocturnal animals. Our favorite was searching for the Caymans. You could spot their eyes along the waterline, and we were even lucky enough to catch a few and hold them in the boat. Check out the pictures at the end of this post.
Other trips included stops to local indigenous communities where we viewed special rituals and learned about their way of life. We were enlightened with such rudimentary living styles and it put into perspective, again, the type of life I'm living in the bustling city of Sao Paulo, home to some 18-24 million depending on how you count.
Pictures really do tell the story in this one, so look away!
And if you ever have the chance to take a tour to the Amazong, GO! IT WILL BE ONE OF THE COOLEST THINGS YOU EVER DO!
PICTURES
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
The Brazilian Cost
Well, if this isn't exactly how I feel sometimes living in this country...not just phone service!
http://www.economist.com/blogs/americasview/2013/04/telecoms-brazil
Yes, frustrating sometimes but this country does have a lot to offer at the same time and is easy to fall in love with!
http://www.economist.com/blogs/americasview/2013/04/telecoms-brazil
Yes, frustrating sometimes but this country does have a lot to offer at the same time and is easy to fall in love with!
Aqui no Brasil
Great post from a fellow blogger about Brazil!
Forewarning: It's in Portuguese...some of them are classic though...my personal favorite is #40.
http://olivierdobrasil.blogspot.com.br/2013/04/curiosidades-brasileiras.html?spref=fb
Forewarning: It's in Portuguese...some of them are classic though...my personal favorite is #40.
http://olivierdobrasil.blogspot.com.br/2013/04/curiosidades-brasileiras.html?spref=fb
Thursday, March 21, 2013
How long I've been here? Or how long I've been gone?
I've thought so much about this topic over the last week as a friend of mine from the US came to visit me in Sao Paulo.
Read the following link to know exactly how I feel! Due credit to another fellow blogger abroad!
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/what-happens-when-you-live-abroad/
Read the following link to know exactly how I feel! Due credit to another fellow blogger abroad!
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/what-happens-when-you-live-abroad/
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Carnival
Am I prepared?
As I unpack my suitcase, filled with what you could likely consider "nightclub" material, my friend asks why I would have brought such nice clothing. It's going to be dirty, he responds. Clearly it was my first time.
I traded my Cole Haan loafers for a pair of ragged old sneakers and threw on a tank top instead. Tightly buckling my money belt under my shorts, I whispered a quick prayer under my breath only guessing what I was going to get myself into. I put the sunscreen on the desk corner next to the door to remind me that although I may feel invincible, the unforgiving Rio de Janeiro sun would fry me like a chicken. Sunglasses...a toss up. I should have brought a $1 pair from the gas station but decided to risk it on the street with the Ray Ban's I had. I glance back at my friend with that look as if I might have forgot something. Oblivious to my worry, he hurried me out the door asking "you ready for this?!" in that rhetorical no-turning-back-now voice.
The Blocos
We bolted for the door, walking just fast enough not to run...anticipating and equally prepping to endure some heavy traffic and a ferry ride across the bay. I was finally on my way to the greatest show on earth...
As we approached the bloco, the sweet smell of hot sweaty people, stale beer, and fresh popcorn was easily overwhelmed by the sounds of samba baterias, drunken sailor songs, and street vendors. My eyes widened as we neared the mob spanning the entire city block. Thousands of people seemed unrecognizable. The ridiculous costumes covered their identity but the joy emitting from them was equally disguising. So palpable I will call it transformative...the first time in life I've seen true happiness penetrate thousands the way this celebration prompted. It was also the first time I felt as if Brazil was host to an equal society. Because this was not a celebration of societal rank; this celebration is synonymous with what it means to be Brazilian.
To my left a shirtless vendor convinces me to buy a black wig amongst a blanket full of silly accessories. Of course, I comply. To my right, I weave through the mile long line awaiting the porta-potties. The stench permeates the air...so much so that my only escape for a fresh breath comes from the clean pocket of air trapped between the cap of my can and the cold beer that's in it. We pass the styrofoam cooler on my right where the vendor tries to convince us to buy the big cans for a promotional price. I try to act like I know what I'm doing and pull out a $5...before my friend butts in and takes control...instructing the man to grab the smallest cans beneath the ice.
"It gets colder quicker and stays that way longer," my friend murmurs while he pays. He cracks them open, smiling as if he's won the lottery. We pump fists and subsequently cheers..."SAUDE".
I roam the party, dodging innocent clowns, sexy police officers, and hunched over transvestites. I catch myself staring at all these crazy people. My friend notices, laughs, then hits me on the shoulder. "Act like you've been here before," he chuckles, likely saving me from petty crime.
We walk a little further into the mob attracted by the contagious energy of a percussion band jamming out to popular national songs. One of the drummers holds up a sign <here...drunks don't enter...they just leave>. I make myself comfortable.
It lasts all day and all night. We rotate in water and food as needed. As the night goes on, the people get crazier, the music gets louder, and the crowd grows larger. Subconsciously you know its late, but everything around you is so stimulating that becoming tired is nearly impossible. As 5 AM nears I wonder when we'll go home. I imagine a long day of sleep before another night of Brazilian madness...but once again, I prove my naivety. We return no later than 10 AM to the bloco with a vengeance, joining in on the civilian stroll through the streets. Onlookers from apartment buildings above throw buckets of water on us as we march along in song. This week is simply "rinse and repeat".
The Parade
The lone exception to this regiment occurs the day before the desfile - if you're one of the lucky ones who gets a ticket. Sleeping in and an afternoon nap become necessary if you are to properly brave the 8-hour all night adventure in the sambodroma. And we abided by the recommendation.
As we approached the mile long stadium, my heart began to race with excitement. Wasn't this something you only see on TV? How lucky am I to be going?
En route to our entrance, we push through crowds of onlookers. The street is lined with food, beer, and booths selling apparel from their beloved samba schools. Loaded with history, these schools are household names, practicing all year long for the big event. Their operations and funding are complex. Their membership is robust and prideful...their followership...is the world. Closer to the stadium, I get a sneak peek at the ornate costumes, easily very expensive...I'm told the finest are in the realm of $100,000-$200,000 dollars.
We make our way to our seats, dragging along our bag full of snacks, and the free 1/2 inch butt cushion that came with the ticket. We sit in the bleachers, above the suites and ground level boxes...to have one of those, you must know "someone" or "the system". As the stadium fills, the preparation for the most impressive parade on earth becomes obvious and the first words from the announcer become silent to the cries of thousands who have waited for this moment.
One-by-one, the six samba school champions from the year slowly march through the heart of the sambodroma. The floats - massive. The costumes - inconceivable. The colors - exotic. The first glimpse you have takes your breath away. I imagine my eyes were wide, in complete shock and amazement by the beauty. Yet, it didn't take long before I awoke from my trans realizing that the camera in my hands had to capture the creativity.
So impressed by the first hour+ from the first school, I couldn't imagine what my reaction would be to the champion school...for I kept saying, all of them are so incredible, how could you judge?
The competition is stiff and the rivalries are heated. Each float was an attack of imaginary prowess. Each use of person was a ploy of innovative capability. Each song, though, was a reaffirmation of love of life, affiliation to school, and commitment to nation. The bone chilling beats and beauty of those songs moved us. And when I wasn't samba-ing in the stands or snapping a picture, I was focused once again on the meaning behind this celebration.
This moment of pure bliss whisked me away to a place of deep affection and love for this utopia I temporarily call home. But as the next float passes by, my gaze of wonder squints with a suspicious eye. It is a landfill covered in oil...a mere mockery of the country's current struggles.
The costumes worn by those that adorn it likely assembled with bloodshed, corruption, and poverty...funded by troubled youth, drugs, and violence. Together, it all leaves a bittersweet realization...that this economic dichotomy has enabled a societal paradox: a nation of extreme inequalities oppressed with so much joy, color, and happiness that it forgets or simply jokes for one week that those very things are fundamental to its own existence.
This, my friends, is carnival.
Click on "carnival" in last sentence for a link to all parade pictures.
As I unpack my suitcase, filled with what you could likely consider "nightclub" material, my friend asks why I would have brought such nice clothing. It's going to be dirty, he responds. Clearly it was my first time.
I traded my Cole Haan loafers for a pair of ragged old sneakers and threw on a tank top instead. Tightly buckling my money belt under my shorts, I whispered a quick prayer under my breath only guessing what I was going to get myself into. I put the sunscreen on the desk corner next to the door to remind me that although I may feel invincible, the unforgiving Rio de Janeiro sun would fry me like a chicken. Sunglasses...a toss up. I should have brought a $1 pair from the gas station but decided to risk it on the street with the Ray Ban's I had. I glance back at my friend with that look as if I might have forgot something. Oblivious to my worry, he hurried me out the door asking "you ready for this?!" in that rhetorical no-turning-back-now voice.
The Blocos
We bolted for the door, walking just fast enough not to run...anticipating and equally prepping to endure some heavy traffic and a ferry ride across the bay. I was finally on my way to the greatest show on earth...
As we approached the bloco, the sweet smell of hot sweaty people, stale beer, and fresh popcorn was easily overwhelmed by the sounds of samba baterias, drunken sailor songs, and street vendors. My eyes widened as we neared the mob spanning the entire city block. Thousands of people seemed unrecognizable. The ridiculous costumes covered their identity but the joy emitting from them was equally disguising. So palpable I will call it transformative...the first time in life I've seen true happiness penetrate thousands the way this celebration prompted. It was also the first time I felt as if Brazil was host to an equal society. Because this was not a celebration of societal rank; this celebration is synonymous with what it means to be Brazilian.
To my left a shirtless vendor convinces me to buy a black wig amongst a blanket full of silly accessories. Of course, I comply. To my right, I weave through the mile long line awaiting the porta-potties. The stench permeates the air...so much so that my only escape for a fresh breath comes from the clean pocket of air trapped between the cap of my can and the cold beer that's in it. We pass the styrofoam cooler on my right where the vendor tries to convince us to buy the big cans for a promotional price. I try to act like I know what I'm doing and pull out a $5...before my friend butts in and takes control...instructing the man to grab the smallest cans beneath the ice.
"It gets colder quicker and stays that way longer," my friend murmurs while he pays. He cracks them open, smiling as if he's won the lottery. We pump fists and subsequently cheers..."SAUDE".
I roam the party, dodging innocent clowns, sexy police officers, and hunched over transvestites. I catch myself staring at all these crazy people. My friend notices, laughs, then hits me on the shoulder. "Act like you've been here before," he chuckles, likely saving me from petty crime.
We walk a little further into the mob attracted by the contagious energy of a percussion band jamming out to popular national songs. One of the drummers holds up a sign <here...drunks don't enter...they just leave>. I make myself comfortable.
It lasts all day and all night. We rotate in water and food as needed. As the night goes on, the people get crazier, the music gets louder, and the crowd grows larger. Subconsciously you know its late, but everything around you is so stimulating that becoming tired is nearly impossible. As 5 AM nears I wonder when we'll go home. I imagine a long day of sleep before another night of Brazilian madness...but once again, I prove my naivety. We return no later than 10 AM to the bloco with a vengeance, joining in on the civilian stroll through the streets. Onlookers from apartment buildings above throw buckets of water on us as we march along in song. This week is simply "rinse and repeat".
The Parade
The lone exception to this regiment occurs the day before the desfile - if you're one of the lucky ones who gets a ticket. Sleeping in and an afternoon nap become necessary if you are to properly brave the 8-hour all night adventure in the sambodroma. And we abided by the recommendation.
As we approached the mile long stadium, my heart began to race with excitement. Wasn't this something you only see on TV? How lucky am I to be going?
En route to our entrance, we push through crowds of onlookers. The street is lined with food, beer, and booths selling apparel from their beloved samba schools. Loaded with history, these schools are household names, practicing all year long for the big event. Their operations and funding are complex. Their membership is robust and prideful...their followership...is the world. Closer to the stadium, I get a sneak peek at the ornate costumes, easily very expensive...I'm told the finest are in the realm of $100,000-$200,000 dollars.
We make our way to our seats, dragging along our bag full of snacks, and the free 1/2 inch butt cushion that came with the ticket. We sit in the bleachers, above the suites and ground level boxes...to have one of those, you must know "someone" or "the system". As the stadium fills, the preparation for the most impressive parade on earth becomes obvious and the first words from the announcer become silent to the cries of thousands who have waited for this moment.
One-by-one, the six samba school champions from the year slowly march through the heart of the sambodroma. The floats - massive. The costumes - inconceivable. The colors - exotic. The first glimpse you have takes your breath away. I imagine my eyes were wide, in complete shock and amazement by the beauty. Yet, it didn't take long before I awoke from my trans realizing that the camera in my hands had to capture the creativity.
So impressed by the first hour+ from the first school, I couldn't imagine what my reaction would be to the champion school...for I kept saying, all of them are so incredible, how could you judge?
The competition is stiff and the rivalries are heated. Each float was an attack of imaginary prowess. Each use of person was a ploy of innovative capability. Each song, though, was a reaffirmation of love of life, affiliation to school, and commitment to nation. The bone chilling beats and beauty of those songs moved us. And when I wasn't samba-ing in the stands or snapping a picture, I was focused once again on the meaning behind this celebration.
This moment of pure bliss whisked me away to a place of deep affection and love for this utopia I temporarily call home. But as the next float passes by, my gaze of wonder squints with a suspicious eye. It is a landfill covered in oil...a mere mockery of the country's current struggles.
The costumes worn by those that adorn it likely assembled with bloodshed, corruption, and poverty...funded by troubled youth, drugs, and violence. Together, it all leaves a bittersweet realization...that this economic dichotomy has enabled a societal paradox: a nation of extreme inequalities oppressed with so much joy, color, and happiness that it forgets or simply jokes for one week that those very things are fundamental to its own existence.
This, my friends, is carnival.
Click on "carnival" in last sentence for a link to all parade pictures.
Monday, February 18, 2013
I'm back!
Greetings blog followers!
The time has come to return with a vengeance. For most of you who are consistent followers, I'm sure it eats you alive inside to open my page and see "Near Death" time and again...so I'm relieving you all today haha.
At the end of last semester, I took a much needed break and disconnected from nearly all things Brazil, blog included. I flew back to the US for the Holidays and got to hug and kiss all the family members, I was able to keep my commitment of working for the Orange Bowl and was fortunate enough to also work the National Championship game pitting Notre Dame vs. Alabama. From there, I made a quick adventure to the homeland of Cincinnati for some precious time with friend and of course, the awaited Skyline Chili (not to worry, I grabbed a can or two that returned with me to Brazil).
After my time in Cincinnati, I got to return a huge favor and hosted my Brazilian friend from my school who was paired up with me as my buddy and we did a mini-US tour! We went straight tourist on our itinerary beginning in Chicago (Wilson tour, Magnificent Mile, Chicago Bulls game, Field Museum, Planetarium, Science & Industry, Aquarium, Portillos Italian Beef, Giordano's Chicago style pizza, and of course, my favorite...Rodity's Greek food!).
From Chicago, we jet-set east to the one and only New York City, where we were welcomed with below zero temperatures...a new experience for my South American friend! We were outside walking the first day there and I was talking away and he finally didn't respond, to which I realized he was too cold to talk and his look reassured my realization haha. It was even a greater joy to see his face at the first sight of snow! While I have been to Chicago a number of times, despite not always being a tourist, NYC was mostly a first for me as well, which was quite a treat. Although we mutually agreed that Chicago was much cleaner than New York, NYC had plenty of attractions for us and we took advantage of seeing them for the first time (Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, Museum of Modern Art, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Museum of Modern History, Central Park, Wall Street, Ellis Island, Statue of Liberty, Broadway Show, Carnegie Deli, Times Square, the list goes on!) Even funnier was that at nearly every turn, we were face-to-face with Brazilians...which was good Portuguese practice for me.
After our NYC tour, we headed to my parents in Buffalo where the snow actually held off until my last day and we were able to get a nice wintery view of Niagara Falls, get in some much needed shopping, and got some sports action in by seeing a Buffalo Sabres hockey game and a Buffalo Bulls basketball game. On the shopping scene, you'll be happy to know that the Brazilians are pumping a bunch of $ into the US economy...mostly with electronics. My friend had a field day at the Apple Store and Best Buy. Taxes on electronics in Brazil are outrageous...in most cases, 50% of retail price or higher...so for him...it was cheaper to buy a round trip fare, take a vacation, and purchase a MacBook in the US than it would have been for him to buy it in Brazil. How about that?! Fun Fact: over 6 million Brazilians visit the US each year and spend over 6 billion in the country. Guess what's vise versa...just 150,000 Americans visit Brazil annually, and over 75% of those visitors are in the country for business purposes only. I suspect that number will increase a little bit when the World Cup and Olympics come following.
While I had originally intended for my time home to be a complete break, I couldn't have been more happy to have hosted my Brazilian friend after all he and his family have done to make my time in Sao Paulo as comfortable as possible. Plus it was fun to introduce him to my family and allow for a healthy level of Engligh-Portuguese language confusion provide for some very humorous moments. I think his new favorite English phrase is...HOLY COW!
I was also able to do some deep reflection about my experience while I was back home. For me, it energized and motivated me to come back to Brazil even more so than if I would have stayed through the holidays. Too, I return feeling more confident in my Portuguese skills and much more cool, calm, and collected about my next semester. Sometimes you just need a break to get back at things 100%...and this case was no different. I was able to share my experiences with my classmates, University, advisers, friends, family, and employers. I was able to get a hold of a few more opportunities for my future and most excitingly, was able to put together an impressive presentation about all the things I've learned and got to deliver it to over 100 people in an auditorium-like setting that struck a chord with all who watched.
Nevertheless, the time passed quickly and I made it back to Sao Paulo safely. I got unpacked and then made my way to the biggest and best show on earth.....BRAZILIAN CARNAVAL! As you can imagine, my next post will be well worth the wait!
Happy to be back and excited to share round 2 of this incredible adventure.
The time has come to return with a vengeance. For most of you who are consistent followers, I'm sure it eats you alive inside to open my page and see "Near Death" time and again...so I'm relieving you all today haha.
At the end of last semester, I took a much needed break and disconnected from nearly all things Brazil, blog included. I flew back to the US for the Holidays and got to hug and kiss all the family members, I was able to keep my commitment of working for the Orange Bowl and was fortunate enough to also work the National Championship game pitting Notre Dame vs. Alabama. From there, I made a quick adventure to the homeland of Cincinnati for some precious time with friend and of course, the awaited Skyline Chili (not to worry, I grabbed a can or two that returned with me to Brazil).
After my time in Cincinnati, I got to return a huge favor and hosted my Brazilian friend from my school who was paired up with me as my buddy and we did a mini-US tour! We went straight tourist on our itinerary beginning in Chicago (Wilson tour, Magnificent Mile, Chicago Bulls game, Field Museum, Planetarium, Science & Industry, Aquarium, Portillos Italian Beef, Giordano's Chicago style pizza, and of course, my favorite...Rodity's Greek food!).
From Chicago, we jet-set east to the one and only New York City, where we were welcomed with below zero temperatures...a new experience for my South American friend! We were outside walking the first day there and I was talking away and he finally didn't respond, to which I realized he was too cold to talk and his look reassured my realization haha. It was even a greater joy to see his face at the first sight of snow! While I have been to Chicago a number of times, despite not always being a tourist, NYC was mostly a first for me as well, which was quite a treat. Although we mutually agreed that Chicago was much cleaner than New York, NYC had plenty of attractions for us and we took advantage of seeing them for the first time (Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, Museum of Modern Art, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Museum of Modern History, Central Park, Wall Street, Ellis Island, Statue of Liberty, Broadway Show, Carnegie Deli, Times Square, the list goes on!) Even funnier was that at nearly every turn, we were face-to-face with Brazilians...which was good Portuguese practice for me.
After our NYC tour, we headed to my parents in Buffalo where the snow actually held off until my last day and we were able to get a nice wintery view of Niagara Falls, get in some much needed shopping, and got some sports action in by seeing a Buffalo Sabres hockey game and a Buffalo Bulls basketball game. On the shopping scene, you'll be happy to know that the Brazilians are pumping a bunch of $ into the US economy...mostly with electronics. My friend had a field day at the Apple Store and Best Buy. Taxes on electronics in Brazil are outrageous...in most cases, 50% of retail price or higher...so for him...it was cheaper to buy a round trip fare, take a vacation, and purchase a MacBook in the US than it would have been for him to buy it in Brazil. How about that?! Fun Fact: over 6 million Brazilians visit the US each year and spend over 6 billion in the country. Guess what's vise versa...just 150,000 Americans visit Brazil annually, and over 75% of those visitors are in the country for business purposes only. I suspect that number will increase a little bit when the World Cup and Olympics come following.
While I had originally intended for my time home to be a complete break, I couldn't have been more happy to have hosted my Brazilian friend after all he and his family have done to make my time in Sao Paulo as comfortable as possible. Plus it was fun to introduce him to my family and allow for a healthy level of Engligh-Portuguese language confusion provide for some very humorous moments. I think his new favorite English phrase is...HOLY COW!
I was also able to do some deep reflection about my experience while I was back home. For me, it energized and motivated me to come back to Brazil even more so than if I would have stayed through the holidays. Too, I return feeling more confident in my Portuguese skills and much more cool, calm, and collected about my next semester. Sometimes you just need a break to get back at things 100%...and this case was no different. I was able to share my experiences with my classmates, University, advisers, friends, family, and employers. I was able to get a hold of a few more opportunities for my future and most excitingly, was able to put together an impressive presentation about all the things I've learned and got to deliver it to over 100 people in an auditorium-like setting that struck a chord with all who watched.
Nevertheless, the time passed quickly and I made it back to Sao Paulo safely. I got unpacked and then made my way to the biggest and best show on earth.....BRAZILIAN CARNAVAL! As you can imagine, my next post will be well worth the wait!
Happy to be back and excited to share round 2 of this incredible adventure.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Near Death Part II
Alrighty folks the time has come to tell you easily the craziest story of my adventure abroad. First, let me apologize for being down and out on this site. As most of you know though, the end of the semester is always a crazy time and doing group projects, presentations, and tests in Portuguese only added to the intensity. Add in some traveling here and there, and you can see why the blog had to take a back seat until now.
So....nevertheless, the tell all tale of my near death experience Part II!
I say Part II because most of you know that three years ago, I was involved in a very tragic car accident that left me seriously injured and unable to walk for a good 6 months. So, I consider that Part I. Let's just hope that Part III doesn't come anytime soon!
First things first, I will admit that just nothing seemed to be going right my first time off Brazilian land since July. A friend and I decided that a weekend getaway to the highly regarded Buenos Aires, Argentina would be the perfect way to get away from the madness in Sao Paulo...and boy were we wrong! MADNESS is quite frankly the only way to describe the trip.
You could say that our first "loss" occurred before we even got into Argentina. We were held on Brazilian land because we didn't have the proper Argentinian documentation. We were one of the few people that purchased our tickets to ARG before the country decided to institute a new $160USD visa fee to enter the country...so we had to run around the airport and find a computer and printer to pay the visa fee before we could board the plane.
We arrived timely, but were very unimpressed with Buenos Aires at the time. Argentina has been experiencing a boatload of unrest in the public sector and the tension between the government and citizenry has been high. This meant we were welcomed by a city that's garbage services had been on strike for a bit...which made for a very smelly welcoming and lots and lots of trash in the street. The government also put a block on the US dollar so there were tons of people in the streets trying to schmooze us over to change our dollars to pesos. The normal rate was about 4.7:1 but if you paid in cash or exchanged your dollars...you could find anything from 6-6.5:1. This would have been a great advantage for my shopping, but yours truly has been in Brazil too long to have had dollars on him. Nevertheless, we managed to overlook the filth and headed down the streets to do some shopping and stopped often for brilliant Argentinian wine and lots of steak before hitting up a live Tango show with some awesome Canadians we met. It was quite simply, a man's dream!
During our strolls on the overwhelmingly European style streets (impressive architecture, super wide avenues), we ventured across a few advertisements promoting the soccer game between Argentina and Brazil that would be played the next day. This was an absolute MUST for us. Argentina x Brazil is easily one of the most storied rivalries between countries around the world. In fact, Argentina and Brazil themselves are almost synonymous with the word "futebol" and thus, this would be an incredible cultural experience in addition to being a fun one. The game was at night in the world famous "La Boca" stadium in the heart of an Argentinian slum just west of the main city. We spent the afternoon in the upscale water port called "Puerto Madero" and followed that up with the very colorful "Caminito" area close to the stadium for some outdoor tango and empanadas before heading to the stadium. Game time set at 9 PM. Pictures of BA, ARG here!
We made our way to the game to sit with our fellow Brazilians. We attempted to learn some of the chants but didn't really succeed. The visitors sat in this caged in area so that opposing fan bases are separated. The section was lined with SWAT style police officers...which was only a foreshadowing of what would ensue later on in the night.
The game itself was brilliant. This was the second game of a two game series between Brazil and Argentina. Brazil won the first game 2x1 in Brazil but the champion would be based on goals, not wins. This explained our confusion when this game ended, as Argentina pulled out a nail biter 2x1 with all three goals coming in the last few minutes of the game. Despite the celebration, it went into penalty kicks to decide the series winner and that's where Brazil locked up the overall victory as we watched Neymar kick the winning penalty kick and cheered like crazy with our Brazilian comrades!
That was really the last joyous moment we had in Buenos Aires. We stayed caged up in the stadium for about 45 minutes after the game until all the Argentina fans left and only then, we began our descent down the stadium steps onto the street. We were only trying to make it a few blocks to the main avenue so that we could grab a taxi. The street was lined with vendors and police officers and lots of people leaving the game, so we felt pretty safe although it was in a rough area...but we learned our lesson...at no time are you 100% safe.
We were making good progress when ahead of our group we could see a man rushing over to one of the police officers. He was trying to get their attention to something ahead in the street (we couldn't really tell what it was at that point), but the officer was escorting one of the team buses so he didn't stop. There didn't seem to be any commotion so we kept ahead until we got to the intersection where we took a left. It was at that point in time, when a sudden feeling of panic set out over the hundreds of people walking. People started hurrying left, lightly shoving each other to get a clear path to run and that's when I heard the first blood curdling scream. I looked immediately across my right shoulder and my eyes affixed themselves to a gleaming 10 inch pointed military style shankers knife held up above some crazy man's head, ready to pierce the skin of his nearest target.
No sooner do I finally comprehend what I'm witnessing, he comes behind a bystander and thrashes the knife up through his gut, under his chest plate, and through his heart. And at this point in time, the whole situation is sinking in....I'm telling myself....
"Holy shit!" That's a big knife (pardon my french but that's what I said!)
"Holy shit...he's stabbing people with it...!"
"Holy shit...he's looking at me and my friend now!!!"
"Holy shit...I have to run!!!!!!"
As he finished off his first victim, he ripped out the knife and laid his eyes directly on me and my friend (as we were at the back of the group walking). It was at this point in time, that I knew I was about to run for my life. He raised the knife and began to chase after us...
I was having trouble seeing as I wore my contacts to the game and they were severely dried out, plus it was dark outside. I tried to grab my friend's arm to hurry him along but as I did, he was already gone and I realized at this point that it was every man for himself in this chase of life or death. I began to sprint and soon it dawned on me that I should be expecting gun shots...thinking that surely this man was not operating alone. I contemplated diving into a dumpster on my right or under a construction truck on the road but before I could think about it lucidly, I ran into a wall on my left on the sidewalk. I slowed down and expected to feel cold metal tearing my skin apart as I knew I wasn't going fast enough at this point. I regained my footing only to trip once again on the uneven sidewalk and dove into the street, rolling a few times. I thought I was a goner. As I tried to get up, I darted left trying to dodge what I thought was an expected swing when I hit a child who was being shuffled into his home by his brother and mother. They looked at me trying to shut their door quickly as I gasped in Spanish, "LET ME IN!!!" The mother and brother grabbed my two arms and pulled me into their wood paneled home and slammed the door behind me. A sudden and modest sense of relief came over me as I knew that they may have saved my life. They told me to duck and stay on the floor with the grandfather and baby as they waited to see if the police had arrived. I hugged the dirt floor, breathing in dust as I tried to gain my thoughts. They asked me if I was alone, which is when a sudden panic yet again hit me...realizing that I was now split up from my friend (who doesn't speak Spanish) in an Argentinian slum with a knifing murderer chasing after us both. If I survived, I thought certainly that he didn't. The family began to ask me questions and I muttered back nervous responses in Spanish, Portuguese, and English and even mixed in some Greek prayers. My anxiety permeated the home and clear confusion across languages did nothing to help...so they ushered me off to the street to brave it on my own as they no longer wanted me in their home.
Thankfully, police lights illuminated the dark and eerie street and I had nothing to do but wander the few blocks nearby in search of my friend, of whom I thought I might never see again. But much to God's grace, it only took me a good 10 minutes to cross his path in a fire station shelter just one block from where I was hiding and the reunion shed palpable relief from both of us that we were, indeed, alive. We hustled over to the officers who were sheltering many others who were tattered and bruised from falls as ambulances took the primary victims to local hospitals. Buses full of SWOT team police lined the streets and escorted us to the main avenue shortly thereafter. Hundreds of terrified fans remained with us throughout the night.
Not one police report was taken. You can read this article and imagine why.
After a rough hour of reliving the tale for each other...complete shock burdened the rest of our trip and our Thanksgiving (no turkey on this side of the world, so we settled for filet mignon). The mad man actually chased after my friend in the street as he split off right from where I was for a good block. Just a few steps behind, his adrenaline rush and tied Nike sneakers undoubtedly saved his life. We are also very lucky that he had a knife instead of a gun, for if he did, I'm certain that I wouldn't be living to tell this tale.
The rest of our time in Buenos Aires was purely spent reliving how close we were to calling our young lives a done story...and the city in return, robbed us of all enjoyment.
When we landed back in Sao Paulo (the alleged "dangerous" city of South America), we had never felt so happy. Happiness is relative though, because when it comes to crime in South America...it's not a matter of "if" it happens to you...only a matter of "when".
So....nevertheless, the tell all tale of my near death experience Part II!
I say Part II because most of you know that three years ago, I was involved in a very tragic car accident that left me seriously injured and unable to walk for a good 6 months. So, I consider that Part I. Let's just hope that Part III doesn't come anytime soon!
First things first, I will admit that just nothing seemed to be going right my first time off Brazilian land since July. A friend and I decided that a weekend getaway to the highly regarded Buenos Aires, Argentina would be the perfect way to get away from the madness in Sao Paulo...and boy were we wrong! MADNESS is quite frankly the only way to describe the trip.
You could say that our first "loss" occurred before we even got into Argentina. We were held on Brazilian land because we didn't have the proper Argentinian documentation. We were one of the few people that purchased our tickets to ARG before the country decided to institute a new $160USD visa fee to enter the country...so we had to run around the airport and find a computer and printer to pay the visa fee before we could board the plane.
We arrived timely, but were very unimpressed with Buenos Aires at the time. Argentina has been experiencing a boatload of unrest in the public sector and the tension between the government and citizenry has been high. This meant we were welcomed by a city that's garbage services had been on strike for a bit...which made for a very smelly welcoming and lots and lots of trash in the street. The government also put a block on the US dollar so there were tons of people in the streets trying to schmooze us over to change our dollars to pesos. The normal rate was about 4.7:1 but if you paid in cash or exchanged your dollars...you could find anything from 6-6.5:1. This would have been a great advantage for my shopping, but yours truly has been in Brazil too long to have had dollars on him. Nevertheless, we managed to overlook the filth and headed down the streets to do some shopping and stopped often for brilliant Argentinian wine and lots of steak before hitting up a live Tango show with some awesome Canadians we met. It was quite simply, a man's dream!
During our strolls on the overwhelmingly European style streets (impressive architecture, super wide avenues), we ventured across a few advertisements promoting the soccer game between Argentina and Brazil that would be played the next day. This was an absolute MUST for us. Argentina x Brazil is easily one of the most storied rivalries between countries around the world. In fact, Argentina and Brazil themselves are almost synonymous with the word "futebol" and thus, this would be an incredible cultural experience in addition to being a fun one. The game was at night in the world famous "La Boca" stadium in the heart of an Argentinian slum just west of the main city. We spent the afternoon in the upscale water port called "Puerto Madero" and followed that up with the very colorful "Caminito" area close to the stadium for some outdoor tango and empanadas before heading to the stadium. Game time set at 9 PM. Pictures of BA, ARG here!
We made our way to the game to sit with our fellow Brazilians. We attempted to learn some of the chants but didn't really succeed. The visitors sat in this caged in area so that opposing fan bases are separated. The section was lined with SWAT style police officers...which was only a foreshadowing of what would ensue later on in the night.
The game itself was brilliant. This was the second game of a two game series between Brazil and Argentina. Brazil won the first game 2x1 in Brazil but the champion would be based on goals, not wins. This explained our confusion when this game ended, as Argentina pulled out a nail biter 2x1 with all three goals coming in the last few minutes of the game. Despite the celebration, it went into penalty kicks to decide the series winner and that's where Brazil locked up the overall victory as we watched Neymar kick the winning penalty kick and cheered like crazy with our Brazilian comrades!
That was really the last joyous moment we had in Buenos Aires. We stayed caged up in the stadium for about 45 minutes after the game until all the Argentina fans left and only then, we began our descent down the stadium steps onto the street. We were only trying to make it a few blocks to the main avenue so that we could grab a taxi. The street was lined with vendors and police officers and lots of people leaving the game, so we felt pretty safe although it was in a rough area...but we learned our lesson...at no time are you 100% safe.
We were making good progress when ahead of our group we could see a man rushing over to one of the police officers. He was trying to get their attention to something ahead in the street (we couldn't really tell what it was at that point), but the officer was escorting one of the team buses so he didn't stop. There didn't seem to be any commotion so we kept ahead until we got to the intersection where we took a left. It was at that point in time, when a sudden feeling of panic set out over the hundreds of people walking. People started hurrying left, lightly shoving each other to get a clear path to run and that's when I heard the first blood curdling scream. I looked immediately across my right shoulder and my eyes affixed themselves to a gleaming 10 inch pointed military style shankers knife held up above some crazy man's head, ready to pierce the skin of his nearest target.
No sooner do I finally comprehend what I'm witnessing, he comes behind a bystander and thrashes the knife up through his gut, under his chest plate, and through his heart. And at this point in time, the whole situation is sinking in....I'm telling myself....
"Holy shit!" That's a big knife (pardon my french but that's what I said!)
"Holy shit...he's stabbing people with it...!"
"Holy shit...he's looking at me and my friend now!!!"
"Holy shit...I have to run!!!!!!"
As he finished off his first victim, he ripped out the knife and laid his eyes directly on me and my friend (as we were at the back of the group walking). It was at this point in time, that I knew I was about to run for my life. He raised the knife and began to chase after us...
I was having trouble seeing as I wore my contacts to the game and they were severely dried out, plus it was dark outside. I tried to grab my friend's arm to hurry him along but as I did, he was already gone and I realized at this point that it was every man for himself in this chase of life or death. I began to sprint and soon it dawned on me that I should be expecting gun shots...thinking that surely this man was not operating alone. I contemplated diving into a dumpster on my right or under a construction truck on the road but before I could think about it lucidly, I ran into a wall on my left on the sidewalk. I slowed down and expected to feel cold metal tearing my skin apart as I knew I wasn't going fast enough at this point. I regained my footing only to trip once again on the uneven sidewalk and dove into the street, rolling a few times. I thought I was a goner. As I tried to get up, I darted left trying to dodge what I thought was an expected swing when I hit a child who was being shuffled into his home by his brother and mother. They looked at me trying to shut their door quickly as I gasped in Spanish, "LET ME IN!!!" The mother and brother grabbed my two arms and pulled me into their wood paneled home and slammed the door behind me. A sudden and modest sense of relief came over me as I knew that they may have saved my life. They told me to duck and stay on the floor with the grandfather and baby as they waited to see if the police had arrived. I hugged the dirt floor, breathing in dust as I tried to gain my thoughts. They asked me if I was alone, which is when a sudden panic yet again hit me...realizing that I was now split up from my friend (who doesn't speak Spanish) in an Argentinian slum with a knifing murderer chasing after us both. If I survived, I thought certainly that he didn't. The family began to ask me questions and I muttered back nervous responses in Spanish, Portuguese, and English and even mixed in some Greek prayers. My anxiety permeated the home and clear confusion across languages did nothing to help...so they ushered me off to the street to brave it on my own as they no longer wanted me in their home.
Thankfully, police lights illuminated the dark and eerie street and I had nothing to do but wander the few blocks nearby in search of my friend, of whom I thought I might never see again. But much to God's grace, it only took me a good 10 minutes to cross his path in a fire station shelter just one block from where I was hiding and the reunion shed palpable relief from both of us that we were, indeed, alive. We hustled over to the officers who were sheltering many others who were tattered and bruised from falls as ambulances took the primary victims to local hospitals. Buses full of SWOT team police lined the streets and escorted us to the main avenue shortly thereafter. Hundreds of terrified fans remained with us throughout the night.
Not one police report was taken. You can read this article and imagine why.
After a rough hour of reliving the tale for each other...complete shock burdened the rest of our trip and our Thanksgiving (no turkey on this side of the world, so we settled for filet mignon). The mad man actually chased after my friend in the street as he split off right from where I was for a good block. Just a few steps behind, his adrenaline rush and tied Nike sneakers undoubtedly saved his life. We are also very lucky that he had a knife instead of a gun, for if he did, I'm certain that I wouldn't be living to tell this tale.
The rest of our time in Buenos Aires was purely spent reliving how close we were to calling our young lives a done story...and the city in return, robbed us of all enjoyment.
When we landed back in Sao Paulo (the alleged "dangerous" city of South America), we had never felt so happy. Happiness is relative though, because when it comes to crime in South America...it's not a matter of "if" it happens to you...only a matter of "when".
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