Merry Christmas/ Feliz Natal

Somebody must like me

Somebody must like me because I had another perfect last day in Bahia. My other last day in Bahia (the 13th...when I left Salvador for Minas Gerais) was wonderful because I met about 8 people on the street and had wonderful banter...something I couldn't have managed 3 months before. Today, to my surprise and glee, I realized I had 4 hours back in the Salvador airport before my next flight (the flight pattern doesn't make sense...Belo Horizonte to Salvador to Rio to Charlotte, but hey) and so I'm taking advantage.

I checked in my bags, got my ticket and strapped on my fanny pack (imagine losing my documents just because I felt like I needed one more adventure. Plus, it's a general rule of thumb that bad things happen on the last day because you let your guard down or do a hail mary or something). I grabbed a bus, pulled the notification string where I saw a place that looked like a place for real Bahianas like me and got off. I then spent my last remaining 50 reais on 2 dresses a blouse, and two items of great importance (and the ONLY things I would want, as I had acai last night, to say goodbye to Brazil): Caldo de Cana (sugar cane juice) and agua de côco (coconut water). I made friends with some ladies who wanted my orkut (like facebook....but not nearly as high-tec...and yes, I have one) and then appreciated as the last Bahians called me "querida" and "mel" (love and honey) and the last people asked me "where are you from?" and prepared mentally to start hearing english soon.



Now it's worth mentioning that I walked 3 minutes from the street where a lady made me a cup of sugar cane juice by feeding sugar cane through a grinding machine to a high class mall where security men and ladies are riding around on scooters. This is also where I'm using the wifi (next to the Burger King...yup) to make this post. So, this country is not developing....it's developed...it's just super lopsided. (Funny to explain that the US is lopsided too...generally the preception is that we're all white, fat kind of people from 3 car, 2 dog, 2 children kind of families and that there doesn't exist poverty nor hunger)

And here I am, saying goodbye...and I can't be sad...because I'm about to go see meu povo (my people): Meggie, Becky and Mikey.

And now I will attempt to cover up pride with a piece of saran-wrap called humility and show how my Portuguese has improved. I say this more with awe than anything else. It's amazing what immersion can do. I am still confused all the time, sound like a duck when talking and can't pronounce words that end in ção (I'm guessing 20% of words have this merry ending) but I'm understood. And it is necessary to be understood, otherwise, you feel like you're not really being human that day.

Before my Portuguese make-over (40 words)...a copy-and-paste job from an August post


After my Portuguese make-over (a few more)...an excerpt from my research paper...don't recommend google translating it...it's a little dry


A atenção à saúde mental é primeiramente disponibilizada através dos CAPS em comunidades com população maior de 20 mil habitantes. Usuários de CAPS têm o direito de usar serviços do ambulatório ou permanecer no CAPS em casos mais graves por um o dois turnos: de manhã e a tarde. A depender da necessidade avaliada pela equipe e o caso do usuário, os profissionais que fazem o acolhimento indicam quantos dias o usuário deve participar das atividades no serviço. Estas atividades são denominadas oficinas terapêuticas que são criadas em conjunto pela equipe a depender das necessidades emergências para tratamento do usuário. O serviço funciona de maneira coletiva com grupos de apoio e oficinas feitas para ajudar a auto-
estima e o sentimento de pertencimento a comunidade.

1. I went to a work Christmas party with my friend's father on Friday (don't worry...it's the same thing here, the wives/husbands/girlfriends/boyfriends don't really want to be there but they think they're pretending really well that they do) and for secret santa, one girl received various remedies for her "anxiety" (aka her co-workers think she's neurotic), including: chamomile (ok I'm with you), natural sleeping pills (still with you) and maracujá (passion fruit). Now, everyone just nodded, like "duh, passion fruit induces sleep. Yup. Yup." and although I knew this after 3 months in Bahia, I was just so distracted for the rest of the night thinking about the same situation in the US. I know there are people who know what plants to use for colds or natural remedies and the like but I'm fairly sure this kind of common knowledge differs here and there ("lá")

2. Another thing that is funny to imagine in reverse: I went to an 8th grade graduation, also on Friday and the slide show of pictures was set to Justin Beiber and David Guetta. On Saturday I went to a high school party and everyone stopped to sing together "I'm having the time of my life" and "Party in the USA". Maybe just in the circles I run in, we don't sing Brazilian pop music and think we're cool. I should be used to this by now, but the strength of American pop culture abroad is still so... striking (and sometimes disconcerting)

3. I'm going to miss prevalent out-door markets. Where am I going to buy my cheese? Farmer's market.....psssshhh....then I can't get my goyabada at the same time, nor my panetone. Que é isso??

4. At dinner tonight I actually followed the conversation close enough to be able to offer my own personal vomit story at the appropriate time. Nothing better than when your humor actually translates how you would like.

5. The squeaky wheel gets the oil= he who doesn't cry, doesn't breast feed (Quem não chora não mama)

6. Went to the zoo with 3 pretty Brazilians. The most striking animal was seen (the passive voice is annoying in Portuguese too) outside of the zoo. This capivara was seen on the banks of some lake I can't pronounce.



7. It's good...whatever the season or hemisphere or time, to lay in the grass (and then go buy caldo de cana....sugar cane juice)

I was here to research, right? I haven't given much cyber space (rsrs) to explain what I researched in the "interior" of Bahia. I was a sort-of intern in 3 health posts called CAPS -Centers for Psico-Social Treatment". At these three posts I interviewed patients (called "users" to empower them to not feel "sick") and doctors, psychologists and other employees about the discrimination people suffering with depression face in their communities. I organized my findings into three categories: stereotypes that society in general holds, discrimination within the family, and discrimination within CAPS itself--among other users or employees. For example, when the group of users (some with more serious mental disabilities than others) walked together to their weekly dance class in the center of town, some of the other users would walk another way as to not be associated with the group. Some don't wear the shirts or sport the CAPS paraphernalia (shown above) and many keep to themselves the fact they are undergoing treatment for their depression.

It's now imperative that I show you what I ate last night:

Working with your hands does the heart good...and gives you calluses

I will collect here, for your going-back-in-the-day-pleasure, the trades I've had the pleasure to view. Also, my English is very strange these days so I'm going to leave long posts for a better-English (and less rainy) day.




We have: a man demonstrating how to make beiju (don't know how to describe it...it can be sort of like a tough tortilla or eaten like a chip. If it's cut in pieces, you can eat it with your coffee. Or, you can grill it with cheese and meat inside), women cleaning the the days catch of "fruit of the sea", and, more obviously: baskets, tapestry and cigars.

Macbook pictures are still a novelty here.



I know I’m a much better person for having lived in Brazil. I have been refined by people picking apart my Portuguese (and making fun of how I close one eye and squint the other when I’m remembering a word) and unknowingly criticizing my country (Why do you only take one shower a day? Why don’t you learn about the history of other countries? Why doesn’t you country support fairer trade policies?)

I’ve been grown by strangers who intervene in my life and tell me to close my purse or grabbing me by the arm and saying don’t go down that street. I’m been humbled by people giving hours of their time to help me with my Portuguese, my paper and my travel logistics when I would have never done so much for another person. And I’ve lost a little weight (mental weight, that is, we know the other one ain’t true) when people make me cry with their weighty words and their two-cheek-kiss goodbye.

I’m learning it might be possible to have something other than a “vida corrida” -- a life of running around. If you take the time not to rush, you might have a little time to give to your neighbor. I’ve got a taste of freedom, defined as leaving my purse at home and feeling human because humans don’t need to be weighted down. And my novel can stay at home, too (it’s ok to catch a bus without having something to read. It’s not a sin to look out the window and rest the mind. It’s not a sin to (be) instead of (being) productive.

Now, when I walk around alone and feel people watching, I sometimes remember I owe them nothing. I don’t need to give them the power of knowing I feel alone and scared and that I’m probably more aware then they are that I don’t fit in.

I hope I don’t forget the truth that if you make time for people and are tactful enough to show them you see them, they’ll open up to you. I hope I remember not to be intimidated, and to watch what my face is telling people, and to stop eating when I’m full. I hope I don’t forget the way thing are said so differently in Portuguese and how happy noticing those nuances makes me feel.

Thanks/ Obrigada….não…obrigadão.

Tem lá?

I. I answer questions daily that end with, "tem lá?"= do they have that there?
A. Examples:
i. Do they have lightening in your country?
ii. Do they have chicken in your country?
iii. They don't sell coconut water in the street "there"?
B. It's fascinating that the fact that most conversations include the world "lá" (there), means that there still exists a barrier
between me and them. They're from here, and I'm from "lá". Still.

II. Expressions are still my favorite hobby.
A. You've never heard that said from another mouth?= You've never heard that before?
B. We're going to now close with a golden key. = We're going to go out with a bang.
C. The sun shines for everyone.
D. When someone shows up when you're talking about them, you don't say "speak of the devil", you say, "you're not going to
die soon!" and then they say, "Amen".
E. Also, why do we have two long words for 'scholarship recipient' when in portuguese it's just 'bolista'?

III. English has invaded Portuguese more than Portuguese has invaded English
A. Brother (you can call a woman my brother, too) but it's spelled brôde
B. Most all technology: internet, laptop, pin drive (but you have to prounce it with a y at the end, like Mikey, Timmy,
internet-chy)
C. Iceberg (yup, it's iceberg-y)
D. Night (as in, "let's go out for night-chy"= let's go out tonight

IV. I must be in a more public culture. You check your facebook (or orkut, here) in a public lan house. You play video games in a public video game house, you pay your electricity bill at the grocery store, not online.

And I can't be in Cachoeira (my town) without visiting a cachoeira (waterfall)

Cachoeira, a waterfall

Last Saturday began the Festa de Ajuda in Cachoeira, Bahia, my current town and love. I woke up at 12 am Saturday to watch the parade begin outside my window with a band and about 100 people running around the town parade (carnaval) style. Every day since, at 4pm, there is another, for lack of a better word, parade, that starts by my pousada, and circles the city, adding people as it snakes around. When it ends at one of the city plazas, there is a beautiful sweaty odor and usually a bloody nose because of some overly-earnest elbow dancing. Each day has a different band, represented by colored t-shirts that are from their neighborhood association. Monday was a parade of Bahianas--traditionally dressed Afro-descendants.




I didn't sleep last night because there was samba from 10 pm until 5 am and I couldn't find a good enough excuse not to participate. At 5am, the "real" party (climax of the week) began with bell ringing, parade gathering and this time, halloween-like dress for the hundreds of participants. Vendors of beer, water, and coke ran down the hill with their carts along with the crowd and I ion't get my foot run over, but I did get a close-up of a real avatar. Real, I tell you. Just look how believable the nose is.

As an added benefit for this lovely day, my American classmate surprise-visited me last night. I returned to my hostel to her sleeping in my room. Thank God for small towns where the question, "at which hostel is the American named Rachel staying?" works better than an address.

And what's more...today was a culinary delicacy. Returned to my pousada at 7 am to guayaba juice, bread, cooked bananas and an egg fried just right. Ate acai for lunch for only 4 reais (What’s up OB Smoothie, What’s up?) and then mid-afternoon snacked on marisoba (I think it's pork. It's really salty and looks like algae). I had two cups of sugar cane juice (squeezed in front of my happy nose...smells like sunshine to me) and a good cup of coffee (in a cute little cup).



Although it's hard to study with constant firecrackers and bell ringing and pagôge-music-from-cars playing, I have learned, as they say here in the rural areas, a "mouthful". Observing at CAPS, the health center for people with mental illnesses, I have fallen in love with my research topic and want to give my whole self to writing my findings in understandable Portuguese. On Friday, we had a "beauty salon" and spent the whole day talking about self-esteem and looking at ourselves in the mirror and asking, "mirror, is there anyone in the world more beautiful than me?" And I cleaned and polished nails, curled hair and laughed hard, hard, hard.

What kind of Brazilian blog would this be if I didn’t mention the beautiful game?

Sunday afternoon we bought scalper tickets for 20 reais (not too good, but that’s what we get for not planning ahead) and watched the Bahian team Vitoria lose to the team from Minas Gerais (Cruzeiros). This is a video from the comparatively empty side where we were sitting. The other side with the local fans was a wee bit more rowdy. It’s funny to hear jeering and cheering in another language and stranger still to see vendors selling acarajé instead of hotdogs.

S-A-J, the locals say

If you’re in Santo António de Jesus, a small city in the interior of the Bahian Recôncavo for two weeks, you might:

1. Watch a soccer in a crowded churrascaría. You might also ordered fried cheese, a real delicacy. Comes on a stick. Eaten with honey.

2. Hang out in the praça (central plaza) and watch teenagers and adults alike drive around and around on their motorcycles, showing off their well-dressed girlfriends. This little ritual can also be preformed with a bicycle, but the same deal with the women: they sit on the back of the bike, legs crossed because they’re wearing a dress.

3. Have churrasco (sort of like a cook-out) with very good friends who also tought us to forró (a dance with two steps to one side and then two steps to the other side. I think it looks like bachata, but everyone else assures me its VERY different.)



4. Have the great privledge of being mistaken for a doctor. “Dotora Raquel, meu joelho está doendo muito.” To which I replied, I have not the slightest idea what to do about your knee, ma’am. Not the slightest. What kind of doctor are you, she wanted to know. The poser kind.



5. Hang out six wonderful days, 8am to 5pm at CAPS, a day center for people with diagnoses ranging from bi-polar to schitzophrenia, depression to OCD. Completely state-funded, CAPS offers activities like gardening and chorus as well as 2 meals, group and private counseling services and meditation, literarcy classes and arts and crafts. The staff of CAPS includes 4 nurses who dispense morning and afternoon medicine, 2 psicologists, 2 receptionists, 2 doctors, 2 cooks, and, depending on the week 8 to 12 interns who coordinate activites (including parties, fashion shows and skits) for the patients (called “users” as an attempt to empower patients to feel like recepients of a service instead of sick people). My friend Megan and I had the extreme (and this is no exaggeration, it was one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve had here) pleasure of spending almost 9 hours a day talking and dancing with 30 lovely Brazilians that frequent CAPS. Because we’re students, people wanted to help us learn and let us observe anxiety support group meetings, counseling sessions, and injections (in the buttox!). Because the next month of the program is set aside for me to do research on the publically funded mental health care program, this was an absolutely ideal experience for me. My research will focus on the exploratory question of, “how is depression understood in rural Brazil”, giving special attention to stigmas that might prevent people from utilizing the free services available at CAPS. I’ll be stationed at another CAPS in a smaller rural town, also in the Recôncavo, called Cachoeira.

More Musings

Thank God for healthy bodies—today I picked up an ant with my index finger and thumb, thinking it was a crumb I had dropped from my plate of cake. I spent the next 15 minutes feeling (tripping) as my body fought away the sting and my hand became red and then white and then normal goldy-peach. Amazing. What an amazing machine.

Now that I've been to 5 birthday parties, I think I can almost certainly say: birthday parties here require only: chicken balls (kind of triangular in shape), soft (cheesy) bread, and cake. Maybe beer (Skoll is preferred). The TV stays on in case of a lull in the conversation, during which everyone faces to watch the show (usually Passióne) avidly.

The Interior

I spent the weekend in Cabaceiras do Paraguacu, the interior of my host mother. That’s usually how it’s explained (As in, “Oh, last weekend we went to Carol’s interior"). It refers to where the family-base is, usually where Christmases are spent and the grandparents (and a few bachelor uncles, maybe) still live. The whole family wanted me to notice how big the house was (and it was…about 9 or 11 beds, I think) compared with the smaller apartment I live in in the city. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had urbanization explained to me, but it felt a little different when I knew the names of the players.

I swam in the rio, ate fish with my fingers and took several naps, because, as it was explained to me, "Rachel, there’s nothing to do here. Sleep." Then I woke up, ate some crackers with my host mom’s dad and then sat on the sofa and held hands with my host mom’s mother (Da Da) as she made plans for my next visit to see her.


I visited the museum for the poet and abolitionist Antonio Frederico de Castro Alves, who was born in Cabaceiras. He had quite a few lovers. Their pictures covered a whole wall in the museum. This might explain why:

AS DUAS FLORES

São duas flores unidas
São duas rosas nascidas
Talvez do mesmo arrebol,
Vivendo,no mesmo galho,
Da mesma gota de orvalho,
Do mesmo raio de sol.

Unidas, bem como as penas
das duas asas pequenas
De um passarinho do céu...
Como um casal de rolinhas,
Como a tribo de andorinhas
Da tarde no frouxo véu.

Unidas, bem como os prantos,
Que em parelha descem tantos
Das profundezas do olhar...
Como o suspiro e o desgosto,
Como as covinhas do rosto,
Como as estrelas do mar.

Unidas... Ai quem pudera
Numa eterna primavera
Viver, qual vive esta flor.
Juntar as rosas da vida
Na rama verde e florida,
Na verde rama do amor!

Ilha de Maré

The above picture is my host dad number 2 (I have one host family in the city, Salvador, and I had one for the three days I spent on the island) He makes baskets to sell at the open air market on the mainland. He also sells fruit on the island and owns 2 bars and a small grocery store, as far I as I could tell. My mother, Lia, cooked me lovely clams and mussels that my host brother caught. I convinced him to take me “fishing” the next day and he explained to me how to tell which bubbles indicated which species (Rachel, each animal has a special breath that tells you where he is. Don’t you see?) I didn’t, but I did enjoy the fact that he called an oyster, “he”. In Portuguese, they don’t use a word for “it”, they use “he” or “she”, depending on the gender of the noun. (I can’t keep from laughing, for example, when people refer to their doctoral thesis as “him”)

I also was able to shadow the community health agent, Maria, as she walked around her designated community to weigh babies. For the first 18 months, the community agent monitors the weight of babies and watches for normal development benchmarks. They use the verb “acompanhar”—to accompany the baby. Much nicer than “monitor”. In the Brazilian health system, a community member is paid by the government (federal, state and municipal) to be the bridge between the community and the medical providers. Agents do not prescribe medicine or diagnose disease, but they do keep track of families, convince people to seek care, dispense condoms and water purifying pills, and take charge of prevention and education campaigns. Each agent is usually responsible for a few hundred families. The community agent program is fantastically successful, especially in rural areas, because the agent not only knows the community members, but is a member of the community. In Maria’s case, she is beloved, beyond a shadow of a doubt. And because we were with her, we were loved too. Maria told us it is remarkable how the islanders accept gringos now that there have been so many positive experiences with SIT students staying on the island, doing research and helping at the medical clinic or schools. She said before there was a feeling of inferiority among the islanders and they would rather not engage with outsiders, but now, because of the good work of previous students, conversation isn’t particularly hard to ignite. And so we reaped the benefits of respectful people who came and stayed and ate and asked questions before us. Thank God for people who do it well.

Portuguese class, alternatively titled: making balloon animals for one's host brother is both fun and rewarding

*Minha Filha/Meu Filho= Doesn't translated directly to "my daughter/son" in conversation. Proof? A seven year old called me his daughter yesterday.
*A gente- Means the people or we or us. Cool.
*Volta sempre- Come back (always) also common for people to say "appear more here, please"
*Segura pra mim- On the bus, it isn't uncommon for someone to offer to hold your bags for you while you're standing so you can hold on better. FINALLY happened to me last week. What if I did this on the subway?
*Eu matei quem estava me matando- I killed who was killing me. One uses this after one eats very quickly and desperately. Preceded by a sigh.

Note: host brother is 33. May or may not be named Fabrício.

Parabéns pra voce

I also just need someone to be proud of two major life events:

1. I know how to wash laundry by hand



2. I made a lovely dessert for my host family...only the best from America

Turned on the TV for the first time

My host mother came into my room yesterday to address something that had been worrying her, "Rachel, why don't you ever turn on the television?" They very kindly provided me with a room with a giant television, and I had apparently offended them by not using it. So, I turned it on to watch the election results. Of course, most talk is of the run-off election on October 31st. In my family, like on tv, the general conversation is regarding, "who will Marina Silva support?"--because whoever she supports, everyone agrees, will win. I'm excited for another month of televised candidate debates. (And for more campaign pamphlets littering the street. I collect them, because I'm a nerd, and so it really does look like Christmas to me)



Also in political news:
1. A professional clown (palhaco) won a state representative seat in Sao Paulo. He may not get to keep it, though, because there's a lot of talk that he's illiterate (analfabeto) and didn't make this fact known during the campaign.
2. Though it is mandatory to vote in Brazil, you can vote in your current city or where you were born. My host mom returned to "the interior" to vote on Sunday because she wanted to vote for her cousin, who is a local candidate. My host sister votes in the interior, too, but since she didn't want to travel, she just had to go to a local voting point and "justificar" her vote--eg. make her excuse official. If you're in the hospital during elections, you need a doctor's note.

The news reports also included a study on growing obesity rates in Brazil (developed country...ahh!) as well as what to do with their aging population, and how to change the cultural norm of not saving for retirement or the future.

From Thursday through Sunday, our group visited Cachoeira, a historical town in the area of Bahia known as Reconcava, because of the concave shape it makes with the ocean. We visited the lovely Igreja do Boa Morte (Church of the Good Death…which appealed to me because of my love of Day of the Dead themed things) and took a boat ride along the river in two lovely pantoons with two lovely and informed guides, who also took us to an abandoned home used by fishers to cook and divert themselves (i.e. booze). We also visited a bee farm, a milk farm, and community building where they make tapioca flour and beiju. Conforming with the stereotype of rural hospitality, we were offered tamarinds from trees (doesn’t matter if it’s their tree or not, they’ll offer it) and roasted cashews as we walked through the village.



We were allowed to observe for a few hours at a family health clinic as people came in to catch up on their vaccine requirements to meet the obligations of the Bolsa Familia Program (an incentive program developed under Lula to give stipends to rural families for vaccinating and educating their children. It’s similar to Progresa y Oportunidades in México) or report a tooth ache. Each family (this community has some 300 households) has a number, and a file folder at the family health center. Nurses keep track of each family member’s health in this file, and send the paperwork to the secretary of health monthly so they secretary can allocate funds and resources appropriately (eg. This community needs more medicine for parasites, but not anti-retro drugs). Everything is state-provided, from the medicine in the basic pharmacy at the health center to the staplers the nurses use for reports. What a fascinating thing to see universal health care at work. The system is 20 years old, so apparently at first there was little except for glitches and kinks, but now it functions more or less smoothly, and, despite continued inequality in access, basic health care for all is a reality.

Twins, at least in Candomblé are allowed to do virtually anything they want. Last night we attended another service at our third terreiro where 2 twins, (middle-aged) not only threw candy at us, but also slapped children on the wrist, pouted, and threw food at other adult’s faces. It’s apparently normal for twins to eat first or for them to laugh at non-appropriate times (for example, when people are possessed by an orixa and the normal code of behavior is to be fairly serious). Yesterday, exemptions for twins were especially observed because it was a holiday (always a holiday here) where twins are supposed to “be children”. (Note, they’re not “acting like children”, they “are children”, and don’t you say otherwise!)

These are a few of my favorite things

1. Women are empowered in the Afro-Brazilian religion of Candomble. There have been more mae de santos (female caretakers of the terreiros, or shrines, for the Orixa dieties) than pae de santos (male caretaker/priests)in Bahia. The hierarchy also changes when people enter through the doors of the place of worship. We were told several times during our visit to a shrine that "it doesn´t matter if you´re a doctor (medico) or a lawyer (advogado) or a street vendor. When you enter the temple, you´re stripped of that outside identity." The new hierarchy, however, is very visible. For example, one lady sat on the floor for the entire service because she has yet to complete her obligation (kind of like a confirmation) of 6 years. When she completes this rite of passage, she earns the right to a chair. When we asked about this, the mae de santo responded fairly humorously and not really defensively, "In her own home, she can sit in as many chairs as she wants." Our academic director has also done some research on how people suffering from depression respond very well to being a part of a Candomble community because they are allowed to assume a new identity within the walls of the terreiro. They find self-respect and worth and are often able to transfer this gusto for life to their "outside" reality.

2. Candy is very easy to find on the street. However, it´s often more expensive than my lunch, so I´m cutting down a little on the sugar and raising my salt intake. (Why would I pay R$3.50 for a snickers when I could get a whole plate of enchiladas for the same price?)

3.Omulu, one of the Orixa dieties of Candomble, is always depicted with reeds covering his face. For some reason, it´s pleasing to my eye. Here he looks like a hairy hershey´s kiss.



4. I´m learning to like the rain. Today I found a book in the trash to use for an umbrella. Now, I think I´ll use it to make borders for my scrapbook.

Ruminations, observations, policy recommendations and commentary on a curious lack of dysfunctional familial relations

I was once tired of people asking me how I could possibly study at Point Loma with that “magnificent view”. I must admit, I’m having a hard time here:



The workers at McDonalds try to correct my pronunciation of “McFlurry” and “Vanilla” when I order ice cream. Then, they slide across the counter an un-flurried McFlurry which I proceed to flurry myself.

Why is it that when you’re learning a new language, you pick up on more than when you speak it fluently? I’m already missing the first week when I picked up a lot more on tone and grammar nuances. Now, I’m distracted by the actual meaning of words.

A law should be passed to sell yogurt over a certain weight in bags rather than containers.

Americans should incorporate into our language expressions that simply make more sense. It’s the idea that sometimes other languages convey an idea better.
“Make a party”
“Make a test”
“Repeat a good experience”
“His beloved”(as opposed to “his girlfriend”)

Let’s also bring back “big words” that we have in English but use less frequently than their less poetic synonyms, even as the equivalent in Spanish or Portuguese (etc.) is used more normally.
Examples: The verb ‘to detest’, an inundation, fidelity, coquette, conjugal

Why doesn’t Portuguese have the present perfect tense? ☹

Children universally like to wave at planes.

I actually like chicken intestines (or, I seriously misunderstood the explanation of the curious plate in front of me)



I’m dying to vote in the upcoming election because they’re going to employ thumbprint recognition technology.

Bahians are really gracious about explaining customs and traditions to my group of Americanas (though, admittedly, it’s one of the most curious and respectful groups I’ve ever been a part of) but I still feel like my face says, “I’ve-lost-my-culture-can-I-borrow-yours?” a lot of the time.

And, on familial relations: At least in my family so far, there has been a suspicious lack of power plays and passive aggressive behavior. (Disclaimer: this is not to contrast my Brazilian family with my American one) Dirty laundry is sure to be aired during my over two-month stay here, but so far I’m impressed with the “say what you mean” rule and the intimate “I’m-going-to-stand-here-and-watch-you-make-beans-because-I-like-your-company” mentality. Also, I like that when the members of the family (widely defined, including girlfriends, boyfriends, cousins and aunts) have nothing to say to me, they sort of sing my name (pronounced Ha-ke-o) when they pass by, sometimes touching my shoulder, as if saying “not-sure-what-to-say-but-I-want-you-to-know-it’s-ok-you’re-in-my-house-and –I-even-sort-of-like-you”)

On Sunday I moved into my host family`s house in Nazare, a neighborhood (um bairro, like a barrio in Spanish)in Salvador. It's the closest neighborhood to where I have my morning Portuguese classes and my afternoon lectures (which are given in Portuguese by local health professionals, activists, politicians, etc. and then translated for us into English). I walk to class with the two girls who lives closest to my house, and generally people address us in English or Spanish. So far I´ve most often had people guess I was a Spaniard.



On Monday I attended a birthday party for a neighbor´s neice. Here, it is somewhat common to celebrate a baby´s birthday every month until age one. This particular Brazilian beauty is now 7 months. The coconut-chocolate cake was quite spectacular.

Tuesday was Brazilian Independence. We watched the parade (and my highlight was getting to hold up a little girl named Leticia so she could see. She was heavy, though). After the parade we went the beach with "quasi todo o mundo"--or practically everyone in Bahia, though I did see a couple of token Germans. I bought a coconut (they say one should drink at least a glass of cocunt water a day for ones health) and watched the waves from a grassy spot by the lighthouse (Farol).

Yesterday was my host brother´s girlfriend´s 23rd birthday. I was chastized a few times for speaking too much english (but, hey, everyone here wants to practice their english just as much as I want to practice o meu portugues!) and pinched and squeezed by relatives. I was also the photo-taker, which made me feel like a real family member. I´m also now finally permitted to do dishes, which makes me feel more at home and less of a guest. My host mother´s closest friend, Carmosina, and I washed the party glasses last night while singing Beyonce...apparently Brazil loved her when she came here on tour) My main success within the family is that I now have all members collecting political campaign posters (the election is nearing for several positions, among them pesident, diputados federal and state representatives) and now possess an enviable collection of smiling (mostly white) faces (weird...Salvador is 80% Afro-Brazilian. Hm.)







Tonight, Friday, we will most likely go to a Capoeira class (a marital arts/dance form from slavery days) and maybe a samba club.

Como chego a.....?

The program I'm studying with is so... so... thorough. They program coordinators have provided some really awesome opportunities for us. Last night, for example, we learned samba and Afro-Brazilian (Candomblé inspired) dances from a two-piece band (who let us play the drums afterward and barely laughed, which was kind) and a really lovely dance teacher. Tonight we went to the Balet Folklórico and I'm not sure that humans were on stage because the things they did were things I would expect of deities...which they were at times impersonating.

Today two friends and I went to O Mercado Modelo as part of an assignment to observe and interview Brazilians. I met a Rocky (pronounce: "Hocky"), Ari, and Diego (men), Tripa (dog) and somehow made myself understood with half a dozen other nameless-to-me vendors who I interviewed, bantered with or just tried expressions out on. It was a fairly perfect day and I would like to say, for the record, that Salvador has really clean busses, at least one female candidate for diputado federal and cool pay phones.

I'm sort of in disbelief about how good people have been to us here. It's supposed to be the happiest place in Brazil, so maybe that's part of the reason, eh?

First off, a quote from a new friend, Molly:

"Rachel, I think dressing like a mom might be a good way not to become one." Jaja/haha/or as they say here, "rsrsrsrs"

Now, a quote from today's lectures on Brazil: diseases, bacteria, dancing and beijos

"Brazil is a risky country. But it's a delicious country." We also watched this video which so far exemplifies the "live in the moment" mentality I've observed here: Wear Sunscreen

And, finally, another picture of delicious food:

A quick pic from my new location: I call this piece "I'm-in-a-new-place-and-I-love-it-already-very-very-much-and-won't-want-to-leave-I'm-sure"

On the plane ride from Charlotte to Rio, I learned the term "beleza" (cool) from my seat-buddy. By the end of my first day in Salvador, I had learned that you can respond to "todo bem?" with "todo bom." (Is everything going well? Yes, everything is good.) Today I learned a bit more in my first Portuguese class: when something is really tasty you say "Tá uma delícia" while tugging at your ear. You tell ME why. So I feel like I'm gradually entering into the cold pool. Saturday I get placed with my host family, so that will be like diving in, fully submerging, and making a splash. Considering my Portuguese spills over the edges, soaking my ego every time I open my mouth, this might be less of a metaphoric-stretch than you think.

We have been staying on the outskirts of the city for the last two days but today we saw a section of the city called "Pelourinho". Pelourinho sells good ice cream. I tried cajá. Pretty much every flavor on the menu was defined in English as a "Brazilian tropical fruit" so I ordered almost as blindly as I would have sans-translation. Salvador has a lot of hair-braiding stands in the tourist section. Salvador plays hosts to lots of school field trips. Salvador has narrow cobblestone streets, a lot of churches and plenty of plazas. It's all just perfect perfect perfect from my perspective. Eu gosto muito da esta cidade.

Indulge me in just one complaint. It's the only one I have. Honestly.

I've been bitten! Now, if I liked mosquitos the way they like me, it wouldn't be a problem. But, you see, I don't, and the little "passionate kisses" they've left on my fingers, ankles, wrists and cheek are just a sign of desperation. So let me say it now: your love will NOT be requited. Leave me alone. Jesucristo.

I'm a lucky pato. (I'm guessing this expression doesn't translate)

On my last day in the United States, I feel very lucky. I've browsed a used book store (and found EXACTLY the Portuguese-English dictionary I wanted), visited a friend at a nursing home, made calls to my wonderful family, changed my hair color, held a cute baby, and indulged myself at Dunkin Donuts. I also left the family car's radio on the Latino radio station (LA MEGA MEZCLA!) so that my mom can miss me when she turns it on. Right now I'm eavesdropping on an interesting conversation at the table across from me. Que día maravillosa.

I think skype telling me "Take a Deep Breath" has significantly reduced my pre-departure stress. From skyping with my cousin in South Korea (Big D, here's your shout-out) to my friends already studying abroad to my informal portuguese teachers, I've been using the application a lot. I like skype. And even when the connection is bad, I think to myself: "since when do I get something for nothing?" They must be Christians to make skype free (Well, sorta. I did just re-load my calling minutes. Cha-ching.)

Eu Não Falo Português Muito Bem

I wanted to document my Portuguese improvement over the semester, so I'm starting off with this humbling photo: me with the 40 words I know off the top of my head. They include real impressive worlds like "a" and "mom" and "chicken". I've accumulated this meager vocabulary three ways.

1. Conversationexchange.com--- I recommend the site highly. You converse with people who speak the language you want to learn and who want to speak the languages you speak. I correspond with people in Mexico, Spain, Brazil and Colombia. It's fairly fantastic. I mostly ask questions about social norms and then we correct each other's grammar. My use of the online dictionary is still extreme.

2. My exchange sister from Minas Gerais, Brazil. She is solely responsible for my awareness of the words "menina" "obrigada" and "saudades". She also makes good farofa.

3. My online teachers: youtube, free podcasts, songs, newspapers... My favorite is a commercial for Huggies. Toddlers sing what translates as, "baby's butt wants to breathe." Can't get enough of it.

My blog is going to get beat up at school for its name

What is an anthropophagite? I was sitting in a class this summer on Latin American female artists and the word and I grabbed for each other. It knew I needed a philosophy-box into which I could cram experiences and vocabulary and people. I like things to connect. It knew I could provide it with some good PR. So, let me make good on my promise and give a favorable definition:

(n): a person who eats human flesh; a cannibal

In the 1920s, a group of artists, writers and other avant-garde peeps took the European classification of Brazilians as "cannibals" and did the most fierce and classy thing that can be done with a derogatory word: they turned it on its head. The re-claimed the word and made it into a philosophy. The movement came to describe the act of taking in one's influences, experiences, surroundings, digesting them, and then creating a collage-like world as a response.

An overview of the "anti-imperialist" movement with which Brazilians took back the name "cannibal" for themselves and made it part of their emerging national identity: HERE

In 1928, from Sao Paulo, Oswald de Andrade wrote the Anthropophagite Manifesto. From his prose, I take two lessons for my pre-departure thinking/consumption:

1. "Before the Portuguese discovered Brazil, Brazil had discovered happiness" This is translated according to my dictionary as: "Before Rachel discovered Brazil, Brazil knew of its own existence/importance/happiness" I'm not discovering a place, I'm discovering what it's like to be me in that place.

2. I want to take in my surroundings (that includes the sounds and smells and weird looks I get as much as the literature and philosophy and language) and digest it, make some judgements, create something as a way to respond, and then be prepared to be dead wrong.

Two of Tarsila do Amaral's paintings (above) are associated with the movement. I want to blow them both up to poster size and let my host family think what they want.

Why Brazil?

Planning to go to Brazil initially satisfied my desire to be off the beaten track. I decided to go to a city people don't automatically think of when they hear "Brazil". Surely this would placate my ego for a while and allow me to feel a little bit original (For those of you who know what I'm talking about when I describe this really self-serving need to feel unique, check out this book that I only half agree with: THE LOST COSMONAUT--and the anti-tourist's manifesto)

Like with anything, once I started paying attention, Brazilian-y things surfaced everywhere. I began to pick up on people speaking Portuguese on the street. I met Brazilians at the mall. News articles miraculously started covering stories about Brazil. It's an amazing phenomenon. It reminds me when I learned the word "iconoclasm", I swear the New York Times only started using that word after I learned it. And I began to realize students of Brazil are everywhere... and I'm about to join their ranks.

Once I settled on Brazil, I began to justify the choice to myself this way:

1. I'll learn a language besides Spanish. This will begin to satisfy a promise I made to myself when I was 10, to learn many languages.
2. I'll "try on" an issue (public health) so I can start narrowing my idea of what I want to do with my life. See if I fit. See if I like it. See if it likes me.
3. The movies I've been liking best come from Brazil. I think I'm a little in love with a place I don't know yet.

If you want to see what I mean:

1. Pindorama, a 1970 film about a dwarf-run circus
2. Wasteland, a more recent film about the recycling industry the largest landfill in the world
3. Manda Bala, a documentary weaving together organized crime in Brazil

I'm trading my sorrows; I'm trading my earrings

The rumor (that I started) is true: I'm trading in my Frida's for some nationalist Brazilian earrings I picked up in Newark, NJ. Salvador, Brazil will play host to my earring-shoe-belt combos for the next four months.