Not Beginning Anymore

So--that "disaster?" Yeah. I am a wimp.

First of all--it has been an extremely liberating experience so far not having internet in my house. I read more. I play more music. I go out and see people more. Second, there is free fast internet at school. A place I am at everyday. And now. Que bom!

Speaking of that whole "school" thing--yeah. Right. Getting up at 6 this morning for an 8 o clock class reminded me that I am not on vacation. And let me tell you why I thought I was this weekend: 

Saturday's magic incited a monumental shift in my mindset. My man big A has a man who has a woman. 

Whoa whoa whoa. I am getting ahead of myself. My man big A has a man who has a man. He--who--scooped us....wait. No no no. Still talking too fast. 

We are chilling at my man's house--the man who my man big A has. Playing futebol in his futebol field. Relaxing in his pool. Listening to samba music in the background. Looouuunnggeeee. The quintessential Brazilian paradise. Or it was until about 3 hours later when the trumping occurred.  

                                     

Now the scoop. A journey with a known but unfamiliar destination awaiting, thru the busy streets of SP (by the way--this  is NOT a city for walkers. Peds. Ya feel me? The motoristas are louco!).

We get to a gate. With a guard. The trunk is searched. Clear. We were basically entering a castle. We pull up to a how do you say....house? There are about 15 cars there--the thought is that the party is seriously bumpin'. We walk through the "house" (I just can't seriously call this place a house)--passing by a full bar, a huge spread of food, beautiful art everywhere (the most memorable is an oil on canvas of a black and white Frida Khalo looking demurely at a colored non-chalant Brad Pitt enjoying a smoke. Both smiles say extremely different things), marble statues--the works. 

We emerge on the "backyard" (still having trouble using such average phrases, but having even more trouble finding the right words for this incredible place). 10 or 15 people hang out in the grass, by the pool, by the grill. I can feel the juice of the best meat in the world dripping INTO my nostrils. Ohhhh it was mighty fine! 

Long story medium: we were at an authentic Brazilian churrasco (BBQ) at the casa de Brazilian Elite. Pool, yes. Samba, yes. But add dripping steak, caipirinhas, more palm trees, marble statues, and beautiful people all around--and yes. The trump card. The quintessential Brazilian paradise (that one is for you Patrick). At least until now. I would not be surprised to be surprised. Check out the sitch:

Big A in all his glory

 

                                                                       

We stayed for hours and I ate at least a  pound of steak, 3 linguicas, and 15 chicken hearts.  That is probably an exaggeration. But a necessary one. Everything is bigger and better. Grander. That is it. Grand.

This day changed everything. It ripped me open. Bared me. In the best way imaginable. My Portuguese improved this day. Tangibly so. Instead of beginning to see the sun—I saw it. I see it. I am not in it yet. Hopefully I never get there, for that is a limit. I dept sleeply and sremt droundly. 

Sunday morning brings the dawn in. I awoke only to a find massive plate of 10 different kinds of fruit awaiting me. Banana, mango, strawberries, lychees, guava…goiaba? O que e isso!? Liquid refreshments included but were not limited to: kiwi juice, cafezinho, and chocolate milk. I think I forgot to mention the bread with nutella. Yes, son. 

My “hospedeira” is wonderful. I call her “tia,” or aunt. 

Common phrases (in Portuguese of course—she does not speak a word of English) of hers:  Do whatever you want, you can come home late, you don’t need to call, let me do the dishes and wash your clothes, a kiss for you....among others of this nature. We even talk, like, have conversations.

To all the lovely women out there who do such a wonderful job of taking care of me: no need to be jealous. You can never be replaced. You are loved beyond comprehension. 

To the same women: It turns out, I can take care of myself too (with an endearing smile). After my fruit stack, I sauntered down to the pool: belted out some Grateful Dead tunes through a long black veil on the old geetar, read in the sun, swam, read some more, napped...got sunburned (my gringo whitiness is not yet used to Brazilian heat! Like I said: I saw it, and such a sight singes).

Ate more. Chicken rice beans POTATO SALAD. Took a nice descansinho--a little nap. A nice shower (it is hard to speak English agora) afterward--it turns out Brasileiros DON'T shower 4 times a day--and I thought I was screwed. 

Last night went out to an American bar to watch the Pats game. There were 3 dudes there from Boston! And a ton of rare Brasileiros who love American futebol. Probably every Brazilian who likes American football in the entire city was in this bar last night. It was so great to see the Pats whoop on the Jets. A true spanking. 

(failure to see reality only brings temporary satisfaction and is not worth the eventual harm).

Let's go Pittsburgh. 

Met up with big A--who very non-chalantly told me he was on an adventure while accidentally getting lost in the favelas--twice. So glad to see his corpse still breathing. A padaria is one of the coolest things ever: you go in, and it is PACKED. There is literally 500 things to order. Meals, snacks, extremely fresh bread, dessert--Misty and Emma: you guys would fall over. At every food/drink establishment here, you get a card when you enter, and put everything on it, like holding a tab, and pay when you leave. Thus with a padaria. 

Had the most delicious pizza there. Upper Crust ain't got shit on Rick James! 

I am meeting people. So many people! Yeah, the Americans are fine--but I made friends and got phone numbers of at least 4 Brazilian guys last night. We are going to play football and hang out. Having the language is extremely valuable. So valuable. For emphasis. 

I haven't been hit on by any women yet...but last night I was heavily petted by an extremely nice man who wanted more than I could give him. Everyone says I am "branquinha"--I look like a gringo. Like the boys in American Pie. O meu deus! 

This is why I feel like I have been on vacation. And even so--today, class was excellent. I am in the advanced class, and there are only 6 people in it. The professor is primo. Que bom, peixes!

I am feeling more at home here. Life is becoming routine. I am happy. I am free. I am excited. I have routine nostalgic moments--for people and places. But they are here with me, and I am, here, too.

Drop me a line you wonderful fools.

Nicholas Lenderking-Brill
CIEE
R. Cardoso de Almeida, 985
05013-001
Sao Paulo, Brasil

Amor para todos. Tchau.