Sorry I didn't proof read these, I'm going to the airport in 20 minutes

Hey whats up everyone. So I realize this blog has really fallen off but I still appreciate all of you reading my attempts to keep this updated and indulging my huge ego. Believe it or not, I have finished my classes and I leave for Rio tomorrow! Over the last week, we had a group Thanksgiving among other goodbye events. We had Thanksgiving at the house of the program directors parents along the river of this nice beach town a little outside Salvador. The house was a great location but, like most EAP group things, food ran out within minutes. The much better party happened the next day at the penthouse apartment of my friends host family above us. If Jay-Z was giving a tour of this place on MTV Cribs I wouldn’t blink. Its so nice and has a huge open patio that outlooks the park and the bay. There was a guy making drinks with four different types of fruit and amble amounts of even more delicious food. His host dad is really humble and one of the best people I’ve met. He always makes me feel at home, but I got to admit he didn’t have to try to hard because his place is so cool. It was a tease coming into the final week in which I had a ten minute Portuguese presentation, a final paper and finals in both classes. It was intense, but I made it out okay and on the final day we had one more good-bye dinner at a nice steakhouse on the beach. Most of my friends have already taken off, but as of now I’m getting my stuff together and soaking in my final days in Salvador before I leave. Stay tuned for Rio and Buenos Aires! See you all soon (except you, I don’t like you).

My Last 2 Trips...in Bahia

The last weeks have flown by in a mix of fun and cramming (for school). My last two weekends were spent at a festival at a country town and in a jungle beach town respectively. In the first town, the have been having this huge party that was supposedly about something religious but I didn’t see any pious activities going on. The party started at 5:00…in the morning and was still raging when we left around lunchtime. I was out for the count by 10:00 Am. It was literally a bunch of people packed into the streets dancing and following a band around playing music. When everyone reached one side of the town, the just turned around and went back the other direction. There was also dudes painted red running around everywhere trying to get paint on you and, of course, and the abundance of cross dressers that appear at every festival here. The highlight of this trip for me though was wiping my eyes on the steps of the hotel at five in the morning when one of my professors came up like “You guys are missing the party come on!”. We followed him as he took his shirt off and started spinning it in the crowd and informed us “I can’t really speak English right now, sorry”. It was a wild time.

The next weekend proved to be even cooler. Some friends and I went to the aforementioned jungle beach town of Itacare in the south of Bahia. Itacare is one of the last places where the forests along the coast weren’t cut down and the trees came right up to the beach. The beaches were white sand, practically deserted, great for surfing and overall beautiful. The first day, I didn’t have a surfboard and a lifeguard tried to save me while I was boogie boarding. I was trying to explain to him that I didn’t need help and we were just arguing in the water until a wave came and I went in and he followed me and was still trying to save me. It was pretty funny, but regrettable on my part because the same thing happened to my friend Carlos twenty minutes earlier and I was making fun of him pretty bad. The next day I went on a river rafting trip through the middle of the jungle. The rapids were way more intense than I thought they would be and we stopped to jump off high rock cliffs and go ziplining too. It was an awesome trip. Our final day there, we hiked through the jungle to a beach an hour away. I felt like I was in the rainforest café, it was SO cool. There were vines hanging down and waterfalls going off right next to the little path cut out through the trees. Sometimes the path would disappear over big gapes and we crossed walking along the water pipes. The beach was awesome; I rented a surfboard and stayed out all day. Another thing that made this trip fun was that a dog from the hostel we found followed us around all weekend. We had some intense hikes but he always came, it was kind of cool. I only wish I didn’t have to leave.

Ich Bin Ein Salvadorer

On Thursday, instead of our regular afternoon culture lecture, we went to Pelourinho for a special drumming presentation. They love African drumming in Bahia, if you haven’t noticed a theme in my posts. The guy’s talk was in Portuguese, so most of it was over my head but the music was very cool but we saw something even better when we came out of the studio. As we were sitting around eating ice cream on the cobblestone corner, a crowd started to gather around a large mural set up in the main square. When we went to check it out, it was a giant collage of different art commemorating the fall of the Berlin Wall.

As the crowd grew, the artist began to pose like he was going to tear it down. After striking a pose for all the cameras, he took back his hammer and drove it right through the center of his art. I didn’t think he was really going to do it; it was a very cool mural. Other people standing by began to vehemently attack the large wall mural too. It was far from the artsy affair I expected. No one was taking precaution with the wall, it was a fit of all out demolition. I was hoping David Hasselhoff would make an appearance but nothing every transpired in the way of washed up eighties stars. Then, as people where ruthlessly kicking in his work, the artist handed over hammers to my friend Amanda and I and let us join in the destruction. It was really invigorating destroying a little piece of the memory communism (those bastards). More and more members of the crowd began to tear at the art while the surrounding crowd cheered everyone on. I really wish we were in the States because chanting “Brasil” doesn’t have the same ring as “U-S-A!”. When the bare structure was exposed, everyone began to rock it until everything collapsed. Once debris was all that remained, everyone let out an even louder cheer and began to dance onto of the ruins. Both Amanda and I managed to salvage some torn pieces of art from the debris that turned out pretty cool. More importantly, I can sleep easy knowing not even the Brazilian arts scene is being tempting by the evil perches of communism. USA! USA! Ahhh that’s better.

The Conga Spot!

Wow. I have just gotten back from one of the coolest concerts of my life. It was just nuts. I was very skeptical going in because I wasn’t excited to see some show I wouldn’t understand, but it was only five reais, so my cheap tendencies allowed me check it out. The final act was supposed to be this congo band with special guest Carlinhos Brown, who is a pretty big, influential songwriter and musician here (from what people tell me at least, I have no idea), so five reais was supposed to be an amzing deal. I still wasn’t impressed. We took a bus to the lower city which can be a picture perfect model for urban decay. The venue looked like all the other dilapidated buildings around it, but when we went inside it opened into a huge courtyard that was wildly painted all around. It was fixed up really nice on the inside with the different colors splattered all over the walls contrasted against the exposed brick and dirty gray of the building. It was a very cool looking place. Then the first band came on with all 20 of its members marching out on stage with their instruments wearing bright white tuxedos. They had everything from bongos to tubas going and put on some great samba(from what people tell me at least, once again nothing). The were even doing a Temptations like shuffle while they were playing. It was pretty impressive for having so many members. I was starting to come around. Then the next act was a three person band playing terrible love songs. They already seemed weak coming out with only three crappy instruments, no tuxedos and no dances resembling Motown acts from the 1960’s. Once they started to play, the crappiness was confirmed. We were speculating that they were probably given the gig to make the final band seem super good, but once the Conga band came on, I only needed 30 seconds to know they would have killed it anyways.

Before they conga drummers came out, the stage was set up with two full drum sets, a bass and a straight up log that was hollowed out and fashioned into a drum for back up. That ensemble started jamming and then about 8 dudes with huge bongos ran out dancing and just started going off. After the awful, slow love songs, the up tempo African style music had everybody going. They brought so much energy the whole venue just starting going nuts. They were wailing like I’ve never seen before all while dancing and doing flips; it was unreal. All the while, clouds had gathered and a drizzle had begun. I didn’t think their show could get anymore intense, but then Carlinhos Brown came on and it went to the next level. He just walked out with four other musicians in white body paint and everyone went crazy. He was wearing a studded jean hat, what seemed like a white army jacket and jeans that had crochet flowers running along the seems. I knew that if a dude can wear this and have everyone show him respect when he came on, he must be the real deal. And then I found out why he can wear those outfits. Once Carlinhos joined the show, it turned into one of the wildest things I have ever been a part of. The immediately started this up tempo jam that everyone knew (even me believe it or not) and it seemed like on cue that the rain began to pour. The rain got harder and harder but they only continued to bring it. As the rain pounded on, there playing and dancing got more intense and the crowd was going off. When the stage was flooding, Carlinhos got down on one knee and started to splash the puddles up to the rhythms with his hands like he was a rain god. All the while the drumming and dancing where getting more and more intense. I know I keep saying this, but it just got more and more crazy. We got pretty close to the stage and when I turned around I was shocked to see EVERY person dancing and getting down while it was dumping rain. The entire venue as pretty big and I didn’t see one person just not dancing and jumping all over the place. I have never been a part of something with so much energy before. At the height of the show, Carlinhos ran from one side of the stage to the other and the crowd would stampede and follow in a giant wave. When he left the stage, the rain almost instantly cleared up. You may be reading this thinking it really doesn’t seem that cool but I would like to emphasize that this was probably one of the coolest things I have ever done. Its hard to put in words, but the energy of the whole place just seemed unreal. The band was so talented and able to make these awesome jams while working and dancing together. They just seemed like they were having the best time. I went on a whim and know I can’t imagine my trip without this big jam in it.

A Samba Funeral

On Tuesday morning, as I approached the door to my Portuguese class, there was a sign posted up to meet in another room. Once the other people from the program and I were all gathered together, our director told us that the famous Bahian musician affectionately known as Neguinho do Samba had passed away. Neguinho was an instrumental in developing the traditional African drumming band Olodum that brought international acclaim to Brazil in the 1990’s for their work with Michael Jackson and Paul Simon, among other famous people. Neguinho used the profits he made to create a number of music schools and community centers throughout Salvador to promote Afro-Brazilian traditions and music while providing a place for the youth of the city, especially the poor and homeless, to gather. Sorry, I didn’t mean for this to turn into a eulogy but I just wanted to give a quick grasp on why he was so endeared to the people of Bahia. We were excused from class to attend his funeral precession throughout the cultural district of the city. It was pretty amazing to experience a large funeral here, especially for someone so beloved. We joined it when there was a few band members playing while a small group of people followed. Though the group wasn’t initially to big, you could still feel the emotion, especially because Neguinho was in seemingly perfect health and still relatively young in his early fifties. No one had expected him to go without warning. As they moved throughout the narrow, cobblestone streets more band members began to play and the group grew larger and larger. People threw flowers from their balconies onto the marching precession, as the sound of the bands grew more intense. Many of the musicians were shedding tears as they passionately played out beutiful rhythms. It was interesting because there was never any boundary between the musicians and the crowd; everyone was just walking and playing together in a crowd that began to grow even larger.

As the crowd spilled into the main plaza, the coffin came into sight and became engulfed by the now huge crowd carrying it on their shoulders. A hysteric man came and snatched a Brazilian flag from the hands of a woman next to me and spread it across the top of the coffin while trying to control his emotion. It concluded where we were as the bands gave a final send off, in one massive drumming unison. One of Neguinho’s close friends spoke words to the mass of people that were now gathered in the plaza around his coffin, all holding their hands up to put a blessing on him. As we were leaving, the coffin was put on top of a fire truck that took it through the entire city for one last send off before reaching the cemetery. It is a shame he died, but amazing to be part of such a grand tribute. Almost all of the famous Bahian drumming bands were just playing throughout the streets in full force, a spectacle that only normally happens at Carnival. It was surreal to witness all at once beside so much grief and passion from the crowd for a man so beloved. When I told my maes where I had gone, they got into an argument because Liane didn’t immediately recognize who he was. “What do you mean you don’t know Neguinho!? HE DANCED WITH MICHAEL JACKSON!” Even for two middle aged ladies with no ties to music, his had death struck a chord; he was a real source of pride for the city and people of Salvador.

Where I Wasn't this Weekend. Swear.

While my last posts have been about taking trips away, I have been having some fun in the city too. Every Saturday the Museu de Arte Moderno (MAM) has a jazz/ jam band play outside for only $2 reais, cleverly titled the “JAM ao MAM”. Modern art doesn’t cease to piss me off below the equator but the show is always pretty sweet. The museum itself is an old government or shipping building right on the water that is built on the bottom of a cliff. There is a courtyard outside against the water where the band sets up and its really cool to just go and hang out listening to the music and ocean while you’re easing into the night. There are stands set up conveniently selling drinks, crepes and other good stuff too. The next day, we got up (relatively) early and went to a surf contest at a beach about 30 minutes away. It was pretty disappointing due in part to the crappy weather so when the rain set in, we got a bus back to Campo Grande (my neighborhood). At the bus stop I noticed an abnormal amount of flamboyant transvestites and as the bus screeched to a stop, the annual Gay Pride Parade was in full swing in the park across from my apartment building. It was pretty startling to see the small jogger’s park turned into an all out party. The park and surrounding streets were all flooded with people. There was a big stage with cross dressers getting down to “My Love Don’t Cost a Thing” and trucks with bands along the street blaring music. Whenever there is a public festival here, they have trucks drive through the streets with either music blasting or live bands playing on top. Anyways throughout the whole area people were just going crazy, dancing, wearing wild outfits. It was so hot (outside) and over the top, it was definitely a wild Sunday. At least, that’s what I heard, I was at home thinking about women.

Heaven On Earth With An Onion Slice

I have spent yet another weekend on the road. This time, I went with some friends to island of Morro do Sao Paulo. Morro, for short, is a Caribbean -esque tropical island off the coast of Brazil with lush green trees covering the hills and long white sand beaches. We had to hop a couple of buses and ferries for a few hours to get their but it was all worth it. We stayed in a cheap but nice hostel and ate some meals that were a definite highlight of the trip. Some friends got there the day before, and some guy just asked them if they were looking for a cheap place to eat and they followed him because a majority of the restaurants there are way overpriced from all of the tourist attention. This guy led them, who later led me, down an rather shady seeming alley(on the right) into what turned out to be his house. Instead of a living room, he just had tables set up and served people plates of food for only $5 reais! Most importantly, the food was SO good. I thought I would be burnt out on rice, beans, and chicken but this was by far the best I’ve had since I’ve been here (granted I’ve only really had my host moms and my neighbors, but still, it was good). It was a huge plate too, I was so happy to be full of good food for so cheap in such a nice beach town. It can’t get much better.

As for non-food descriptions, there is only one little town on the island around the ferry dock where the hostels and restaurants are. There are no cars or paved roads. Morro is a famous get away for many Brazilians, other South Americans and Europeans too but it was off season so it wasn’t too crowded. Besides, all you had to do was go down the coast a little and you would become secluded without too far of a walk. While I was there, my friends and I just posted around the beach and did some exploring around the island too. One of the coolest parts was hiking to a beach composed entirely of mud. It was crazy at first because when you get there, you just see cliffs that look like solid rock, but when you stick your hand on them they easily disintegrate into mud. Within minutes we were busting out face paintings which progressed to full body paint followed by the inventible mud hair gel. It was really fun messing around and trying to run up the mud cliffs before the bottom would leave you sliding down. We also found giant wooden sticks that led to pole vault competitions, Indian battles and well any fight in general you could imagine with mud, big poles, and a beach (feel free to ignore how homoerotic this trip sounds in writing). The mud washed off really easy in the ocean, and (surprisingly) out of my hair, and left our skin and hair so soft. What you know about exfoliating in the tropics son!?? Nothing, get off me.

After hanging around the beach more, we climbed up to the top of one of the highest hills on the island and I saw one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen (on the right). The sun seemed to beam across the whole ocean. Once the sun was down, we went to a rave in this outdoor club stuck up in the jungle. After we got out, my friend and I decided to stay up a little while longer for sunrise. We hiked down to the beach and by the time our pastels were ready the sun was starting to brim through palms on the ocean. Pastels, by the way, are a delicious Brazilian type of hot pocket with an awesome crust and whatever filling you want. I went with cheese, tomatoes, and oregano (at least I think thats what it was) for the sunrise; it was a powerful combination. Pastels in hand, we climbed out to the rocks along a small island of palms and watched a sunrise that matched the overwhelming sunset (on the left). It was really magnificent, for lack of a less pompous sounding word. After that, we crashed for a few hours then got up in time to catch some breakfast and get an early boat out because we had a Portuguese test the next day and the ferries are few and far in between on Sundays. The results of the test don't call for an as cheery blog post, but I still wouldn’t take back the trip though…it was a wild adventura (that’s this word Brazilians use for an exciting, bold or very unusual experience…its hard to capture in English).

Mike? At Ballet? Psssssshhhhh Not Even Close.

Wednesday during class, our program director, Clara, came in and told everyone she had gotten tickets to the Bale Folcolrico, which I was told was some type of dance performance. The words dance performance, enhanced by what I understood as “ballet”, did not leave me excited for these aforementioned tickets. Being that I am incredibly tough man, I would have much rather spent my time eating meat or doing push ups than attending some dance recital but I was somehow duped into going along with people already on their way. As it turns out, it wasn’t actually ballet (Bale is just some Portuguese word) but it was this awesome rendition of all these sweet African/ Afro-Brazilian dances that were absolutely crazy too watch. It was amazing how they could be doing such wild moves then fall completely in step with one another on a pin drop all to about ten guys going off on some drums. Black people with rhythm….what will this country show me next!? The overall impressiveness of the show is hard to capture in words, but two parts of the show really stood out. First, guys flipped onto to the stage and started these intense fighting sequences. Cool in itself but enhanced by the fact that their fighting and flips were accompanied by swords they clashed mid-air which threw off very cool looking sparks. This transgressed into some of the most intense capoiera I have seen since I got here, with high back flips and roundhouse kicks flowing at a nonstop pace. As cool as this was though, it was without a doubt trumped by the guy who came out representing the fire spirit of Candomble, the Afro-Brazilian religion similar to Santeria. The stage went completely black and then he came out with a huge bowl of fire on his head and two smaller bowls in his hands. It was so dark, it looked like fire was just cutting around the blackness. Then a small red light came on him and he stopped balancing the fire and started dancing in it! Not just walking through it, but actually dancing. He was slowly rubbing the flames all over his body, then he would step into the flames, stand, dance around for a couple of seconds, then step out and dance the burning flames off of his feet. It was unreal to watch. I’m really glad I ignored my manly intuitions because not only did I see an awesome, traditional Brazilian show, but I also learned the valuable lesson that either Candomble or Brazilian PCP is nothing to mess with.

Brazilian Fried Mike

I am currently in the midst of a four day weekend, thanks to the Brazilian celebration of Dia de Crianças, or Kid’s Day, on Monday. Yes, Kid’s Day. Your parents may have given you the bitter response growing up of “Every day is Kid’s Day” to the rational questioning of the fact that parents each receive their own, separate days yet kids get no recognition. The real answer is October 12, I propose we stop this sham and start a revo – sorry what is this blog about again? What I’m doing in Brazil,yes. Well, the four day weekend was supposed to include a camping trip but the combination of poor planning and rain thwarted that idea. Instead on Friday, I caught a bus to a beach town outside Salvador with two friends. We had a general idea of where we were going but ended up getting off the bus way to late, when we noticed the beach in the far distance from the top of a hill the bus was climbing. We got off on the next stop and ended up getting lost in the rural beach town for a while. We naturally thought the sight of sand a mile away would bring us to the beach but it was actually sand dunes which were fun yet even farther away. After a while of wandering we found the road to the beach, or a beach I should say because we weren’t at the popular beach but we found a deserted hang out that ended up being pretty awesome. The cachaça and beer we brought seemed to convince all three of us that sunblock wasn’t necessary and I now have my first really intense sun burn of the trip. We just posted on the beach for the rest of the day and enjoyed the time hanging out by ourselves and messing around. Though, at first, I wish we could have gone camping, the adventure of getting lost in a country town and finding our own, private beach really made for a great day. Flaming thighs included.

The Brazilian Countryside in HD

I have a loud voice, which is choice, when I’m rolling in my Rolls Royce, the Portuguese word for two is dois…that was just a preview of how I spent my time on the six hour bus ride to the inland town of Lençóis (I’m only spelling it with the accents once). Lencois is a small inland town with incredible natural attributes. Over the weekend, I climbed breath-taking (yes, breath-taking!) cliffs, went caving, and swam in waterfalls. It was like an episode of Planet Earth, I couldn’t believe all of these amazing things were in one place.

This trip was also really fun because it was an EAP sponsored event that took the entire program, so 55 people and the program directors, Clara and Morbi, all went along for the ride. After pounding out a fat section of East of Eden on the bus and thinking up some of the ill rhymes displayed above, we arrived at the Chapada Diamantina, a series of cliffs and plateaus that jutted and stretched throughout a huge valley. We went on one of the first, but tallest ones, so when we got there I didn’t really know what it was. Then we started hiking and climbing straight up on rocks until we reached the top plateau and you could see for miles all around. It was truly breath-taking (yes, breath-taking!). After that we were asked if we wanted to go straight to the hotel or check out a small waterfall with a natural pool. Some girls concerned with clubbing were trying to start a “back to the hotel” vote but thankfully we were able to sway the populous to go the waterfall. After hiking a small trail, you reached a big natural pool with a short but wide waterfall surrounded by large rocks that jutted out in layers. The climbable rocks and deep pool provided a perfect spot for jumping and it wasn’t long until we were climbing to the top. Finally, we went to the hotel for the night and grabbed some Mexican food from a local spot. In retrospect, it wasn’t very good but having something wrapped in a tortilla seemed irresistibly tantalizing at the time.

The next morning featured a very nice breakfast buffet that unfortunately started at eight in the morning. After powering through that, everyone piled on the bus to take off for the caverns. We started at the top of some cliffs and broke off into small groups of ten or twelve, each with our own tour guide who was only equipped with an old propane lamp and a lighter. The cave was, well, cavernous inside and really fun to explore. It was really cool entering through what seemed like a small hole in the side of the cliff and entering a huge cavern. In the middle of the cave, the guide shut off the lamp and it was pitch black and completely silent, a very big adjustment for my senses after life in the city for so long now.

After that, we went to the natural pool from the day before but kept following the river it feed into until we reached a huge opening with a sixty foot waterfall at the end. The waterfall fed into a big pool or a small lake (your choice) that feed into another waterfall and river. The most fun part was taking a zip-line from the top of the waterfall and crashing into the pool beneath. Spinning around to see the waterfall while flying through the air was unforgettable. It was one of the coolest, most fun places I’ve ever been. Unfortunately, some dummy (supposedly) broke his neck jumping from the top so that was ruled out but it was still fun swimming under the falls and hiking around the amazing area. It definitely seemed like something from a movie.

When we got back to the hotel, our guide took a small group of us to more natural pools that were up over the hills of the city. I know, this was all in one day! We got there as the moon was coming up and it was really beautiful. The moon was so big in the sky and it was really cool to see the lights of the small town brighten in a small circle in the valley below us. We went back, took HOT showers (I’m still not over it), and had a giant feast with chicken, steak, salad and a bunch of other good stuff. We also have been playing this secret friend game, which I wasn’t a big fan of, but it worked out because I had a really nice girl who gave me a cool painting and Brazilian maraca-type thing. It turns out, if you have a secret friend who gives you sweet presents the game isn’t so bad after all.

The next day after breakfast, we were given the choice of going to natural waterslides or checking out this village where the descendants of escaped slaves live. My friend convinced me that we could check out waterslides in the States but wouldn’t get a chance to see a slave village. I went and it was okay but I would have much rather gone to the waterslides. I thought it was going to be a Colonial Williamsburg type-place but there wasn’t anything special or historic about the village, it was just a place where people fished and lived. Also, I feel kind of dumb doing stuff at that like I’m ogling at people in a zoo who are just trying to live their lives. It was cool to see but I think I would have enjoyed the waterslide more, especially taking into account that the waterslide was free and cooled you off and I paid 14 reais to be hot in a village. When we got back though, it was all worth it because we checked out of the hotel and had another all-you-can eat feast at a local restaurant, which was even more delicious than the last. Plus they had some of the best lemonade I’ve had. Maybe I was hot and thirsty but it tasted sooooooooo good. As we began our long trip back to Salvador, the bathroom on the bus broke on the way home causing a very foul smell to engulf the bus for most of the ride but it was all worth it. Between the delicious food and crazy places we went to, it seems unreal. I still don’t believe all these cool things were located in the same place… Lençóis! (Alright, it deserved another proper spelling).

Hey Bahia, You're Alright

I was going to name this post “I’m on a Boat!” for reasons soon to be discovered because I think my blog hasn’t had enough played out pop culture references, but I thought that would be too easy. How about a nice Wassssssssssssssssssssssssup! to get us going. Man, I also miss 7-Up’s zany advertising campaigns. Anyways, I’m not going to lie, I have been putting on a brave face for this blog because I didn’t want to use it to complain (disregard complaints about girls from the last post), but coming to Brazil has not been all great. I’ve been having fun but not this crazy awesome experience you often hear about from people who study abroad. These past few days have definitely started to bring me around though.

It started with our program director, Clara, offering us free tickets to see this guitarist and singer play. My naturally frugal nature could not resist free tickets, so I accepted not really knowing what the concert would be like. I ended up meeting some people from school in the packed theater and within minutes this guitarist came out and started rocking some flamenco guitar like I have never heard. He gave one of the best guitar performances I have seen and was then accompanied by another man and woman who sang and clapped, which sounds weird but their claps went surprising well with the guitar. At the end the woman started doing this stomp dance to the guitar and was getting really into it while people from the audience were cheering her on. They really brought down the house and it was a unique Latin American experience I’m glad I didn’t pass on a whim.

As cool as it was, that whole affair was overshadowed by going with my entire class of 50-some people on a boat tour around the bay. I can honestly say it was one of the most fun times I’ve had. We left early in the morning and got on this huge boat that took us to two different islands with basically no one on them. At the first island, we just jumped off the ship and swam to shore. We played soccer for about an hour and somehow ended up in a game of boys versus girls. The boys obviously won based on the scientific principle of boys rule, girls drool but I think I upset some girls after I scored my second goal and started into my usual routine of “sorry, we are playing sports not vacuuming” and “there is no Title 9 in Brazil, maybe you should just start getting my dinner ready” among others. People are still getting a grasp on my sense of humor. Fortunately, my speedo prevented me from running too much so my competitive nature did not go overboard.

Right before we got to the next island, they stopped the boat and everyone jumped off the boat and swam for about half an hour. Then we got to the next island which was completely deserted and ate a huge lunch of chicken, rice and beans and hung out on the beach for a few more hours. Oh I forgot to mention that the ship had a huge cooler and stereo system which led to a constant party the whole day. The drinks came out early and it didn’t take long for speedos to envelope the boat. My personal pick of bright blue on pale will be all the rage on Paris runways this spring, just wait. It was just so much fun, I can’t get over it. On the way back, as I was finishing the last of my many drinks, we caught the sunset and some genius put in a power mix of “Can I Kick It?” by Tribe and a series of Lauryn Hill/ Fugees jams which broke all attempts I had made to maintain myself. It was such a perfect end to a fun day which culminated in me somehow getting back to my apartment, walking in screaming “Boa!” and giving thumbs up to my host mom and passing out in my speedo. I would just like to take this time to reiterate how much fun this trip was and that everyone should have the pleasure of waking up confused in an excessively bright speedo after sailing around tropical islands all day.

Oh, there was lots of bikinis too if you are questioning why I mentioned speedos so much in this blog. Maybe I just like the freedom, I’m not trying to wear pajamas on the beach I was looking at the bikinis I swear no you’re gay!

Escape from BA

Brazil is continuing to provide eventful weekends, I must say. On Thursday afternoon, I accepted an invitation from some friends to catch a bus to a beach further south called Praia do Forte and spend the weekend there. The hostel and bus ride were cheap so I agreed, thinking it would just be a few people. Unbeknownst to my knowledge, a group of girls who have already decided I’m weird got to come too. Lots of them fought each other and started all this drama. Luckily only the girls were really lame and the guys who invited me were cool and weren’t standing for their Real World shenanigans either. We decided to bail on all that and have fun; I know lame people in the USA but don’t ever have the chance to explore South American beach towns.

So once we decided we’d catch Laguna Beach on Tivo, we found the town was really cool. It was definitely designed for tourists but it was kind of nice to have tourist comforts after being in the city for so long. The air felt so clean and the water was blue and beautiful. The palm trees jutted into the water just like a post card, it was amazing. There was a small crowd by the entrance to the beach but you could easily walk a little father down and have the whole place to yourself. When I went exploring with my two white friends, Cole and Riley, we went unhassled by any employees in the really expensive resorts and we were able to get to some pretty cool remote spots. Finally, my unnecessarily vast amount of freckles has come in handy. We found some pretty cool palms hanging over the water by one resort and Cole taught me how to climb palm trees. He is one of those robot guys who is just naturally good at everything and therefore was shocked that I didn’t know how to climb palm trees. “Dude you are from Mendocino, how do you know how to climb palm trees?”

There was also a crazy tide that sucked out in the morning about… well I don’t know a very far distance and left some pretty cool tide pools in front of a lighthouse. There were old Brazilian men fishing off the edges and you could swim out to boats pretty easy. We caught crabs (yes, yes jokes) and found some awesome live coral that looked like octopi (grammar check) spread over rocks. The hostel we stayed at was also really nice and had very comfy hammocks that were being fought for by the end of the weekend. They also gave a wristband for free entrance into this sea turtle restoration project that was part of the town. The project had a bunch of huge sea turtles but we are all pretty disappointed to find out you couldn’t touch or swim with them. Some people claimed they swam with some in the wild later in the day while I was eating but I’m choosing not believe them. It started to rain when we were debating to go making the decision to leave much easier. Overall, it was a pretty cool place and definitely a relaxing break from the crowds and noise of the city.

So to sum up this weekend: jerky girls, cool beach, tide pools, hammocks, sea turtles.

Country Grammar

My Portuguese, though still pretty bad, is improving a quick rate. I can pretty much understand my host moms if they speak to me like I’m five or an idiot and have now added “I’m going” to my two heavily employed staples of “I like” and “I want”. We have been watching telenovelas together (I found time for it in between my strict regimen of push ups, eating red meat and beating up nerds, that’s right), which has helped too. The most popular show in Brazil is a telenovela that is set in India which really weirded me out at first. A show with South Americans speaking Portuguese and living in India just doesn’t seem right, I feel like America should be involved in some way. I have been able to pick up some good words from it though and have actually gotten a general idea of whats going on. Man I cannot wait for that slut Josefina to get hers. Anyways, during commercial breaks we have conversations and my moms are pretty funny. Barbara told me she saw my picture and didn’t want me because I looked scary. In my defense, the hair was looking pretty crazy from driving with the windows down and the Brazilian Consulate said they would reject your visa if you smiled so I had a pretty hard look on. They also both agreed my old hair was nice but my new hair is much more bonito. I also regretfully managed to tell them my dad is Italian and now they won’t stop bringing up this soccer game where Brazil beat Italy 2-0. “They didn’t even score one goal!” I’m not sure what game they are even talking about and brought up the fact that Italy won the last World Cup but was promptly ignored. Leana came up to me during breakfast today and whispered “Cero” while holding a big zero in my face with her fingers then just walked away looking at me like I was a sucker. Damn these people love soccer.

Domingo! Domingo! Domingo!

This past weekend’s events included bump-and-grinding with my 40 something instructor during a Samba lesson and singing “Twist and Shout” in unison with an entire bar, but all were trumped by going to my first Brazilian soccer game. There are two rival teams in Bahia (the place where I’m at), Vitoria and Bahia FC, which each have their respective die hard fans. What I did not realize is how intense these fans really were. I went with a big group from my school to watch Vitoria play Palmeras, one of the best and most hated teams in the Brazilian league (at least according to my host mom’s brother). The game also had some extra important relevance revolving around league positioning for reasons explained to me in rapid Portuguese that I pretended to understand. Whatever it was, the Vitoria fans were operating on a level the likes of which I had never seen.

As soon as I stepped off the bus, it was unreal. The stadium is dug into a big hill and only high, decaying prison-esque walls are visible from the outside. People were everywhere, singing, yelling, fighting, while mobbing into the stadium. Friends who arrived early had to go inside because Vitoria fans were throwing homemade bombs at the visiting Palmeras fans. Yes, bombs. Don’t worry though, there was riot police throughout the entire junction. The police are very intimidating; they wear military fatigues and have giant machine guns and batons, which, it seems, they don’t hesitate to use. Even if I was a native white person, I don’t think I would like them. To be honest, I’m surprised I made it inside.

Walking in the stadium is very daunting. You enter at the top of the hill through the prison wall and look down on a u-shaped sea of screaming red and black. The stadium has watch towers, high fences and a jungle barrier; its really how I imagined a prison here just with a soccer game going in the middle. Did I mention the intimidating, prison like atmosphere yet? Because it was all up in there.

After not being able to find good seats in the stands, my friend claims he was able to parlay his immense charm into wristbands to get to good seats we didn’t pay for. Frankly, I think the wrist band lady was just scared of the sunburned drunk man with broken speech and poor grammar yelling in her face, but either way the wrist bands he got us were for seats 4 rows up from center field. Or at least from the high fence and cop-laden barrier that separates the field from the stands. Vitoria scored the first goal and the stadium absolutely lost it. I have never seen anything like it. The entire left side of the stadium, probably over 15,000 people, ran across the bleachers and back in unison while jumping, screaming and setting off fireworks and smoke bombs. Five GIGANTIC flags that covered about ten rows sprung up out of nowhere and began to sway to the many Vitoria chants and songs that began to thunder through the stadium. Its very hard to capture in words, but it just seemed like pure chaos spread all over 25,000 people . The energy surging through the stadium was unbelievable. Then Palmeras scored two goals; their brave traveling fan section sent out a loud celebration and a riotous feeling seemed to creep over the crowd. At the half, police in full riot gear who were surrounded by another barrier of riot police with K9s escorted the refs off the field. That’s right, it was felt that not one but TWO barriers of police and attack dogs were necessary to get the refs safely off the field.

Luckily, for entertainment and safety reasons, Vitoria came back in the second half and scored 2 goals to win the game. People flooded out into the streets afterwards celebrating and harassing Palmeras fans. Traffic was gridlocked as people clogged the streets celebrating. It was a very incredible experience that has already made me decides to come back for the World Cup, which I imagine would, somehow, will be even more intense.

A Weekend At Himundo's

This past weekend was pretty intense. So far on my trip, I have considered myself unsusceptible to what some lesser beings call “culture shock”. That is some psychologists’ term for wussies who can’t adapt. That was until Saturday at any rate. I woke up relatively early and as I sleepily went through breakfast my host moms gave me two options: go to an island for the day for a family member’s birthday or go to a party at night. I wanted to go out with some people from school to watch Brazil’s World Cup qualifying game at night, so I chose an easy trip to an island, or what I thought would be one. I figured we would drive to the ferry terminal, wait in line for a few minutes and sit on a beach. But then we left and everything changed.

During breakfast, Leana (one of my host moms) mentioned picking some things up for the store to bring to the party. Yeah sure, whatever you want to do. It was Brazilian Independence Day this past weekend, so there were even more people than normal on the streets and, well, everywhere for the 3 day weekend. We went into a grocery store and it was a total madhouse. We picked a bunch of cases of beer and soda and waited in this huge line and when we got to the front, Leana told Sandra, the German exchange student in our building, and I to pay for these presents. I didn’t realize I had to pay and had no money. Neither did Sandra. Then I’m really not sure what happened; next thing I knew we were in the street flooded with people and Sandra and Leana were arguing in, Portuguese and Portuguese-German respectively, about what we were doing. I just told them I’d go to an ATM to quell tempers and before I knew it had spent 38 reals on beer for people I didn’t know going to some place I didn’t know. I just really felt like I had no idea what was going on and we hadn’t even made it to the ferry terminal.

When we did get there after a long walk carrying all the cases of beer for the women, things didn’t get much better. The line was insane and it took us almost three hours to make it onto the boat. The baking sun and smell of pee accompanied us the entire time. While waiting I began to calculate time and when I asked my host mom when we’d come back, she was just like, “who knows, we’ll probably just spend the night.” That really brought things to ahead for me. I didn’t think I’d have a problem adjusting to “Brazilian time” but the stores and ferry pushed my limits and now this was over the top. I didn’t want to spend the night or even really go but I didn’t say anything because frankly I didn’t know how too, without hurting her feelings at least. By the time I was on the boat (which was overcrowded and appeared to have very shotty looking sonstruction), I decided to just roll with the punches and have some fun because my three hours or 38 bucks weren’t coming back. I was glad I did.

The ferry ride was calm and actually quite fun. Sandra and I talked with some little girls across from us who had never seen a person with so many freckles and were impressed by the fact that we had both ridden on airplanes. The water was a very bright blue when we arrived to Ilha Grande (I’m not actually sure that’s its name) and I couldn’t wait to jump in, but first we had to find the house. As we walked away from the dock the paved roads turned into dirt and palm trees lined a beautiful view of the city.

Within ten minutes we had arrived and I was introduced to the man of the house and the hour, Himundo, also known (appropriately) as Hi. He welcomed me to his home in broken English and immediately took me under his wing. He sat me down with his friends at a table while the women went off to help cook and poured me an entire glass full of whiskey, which I could not refuse without insulting him because whiskey is an imported delicacy here. This would begin a day of constant, unabridged drinking. Because its so hot here, Brazilians have developed a system where one giant, cold beer is kept in a coozy in the middle of the table and everyone is poured small glasses; otherwise, your drink would just get hot before you could finish it. An ingenious plan, no doubt, but not one concerned with measuring how much you have drank. The entire time I was there, my cup was just being refilled. Another beer is opened and poured before your glass is empty. The drinks were paired with the best Churrasco steak of my life. My program took us to a fancy steakhouse but this cut charred in the island beach house was much better. Unfortunatly though, it did little to stem the tide of alcohol in my body.

After I finished eating, I managed to sneak away from the drinks and went to the down to the beach. As soon as I jumped in, some local kids swam over to me to practice their English. They were using pieces of packing styrofoam to try and ride the waves and I bodysurfed with them and we practiced the numbers 1 to 20 in both languages. The water just seemed to be the perfect temperature; warm but still chill enough to still cool you down. We proceeded to name fruits and began launching into flips. When their mom came and told them they had to leave, they begged to stay and bargained 15 more minutes out of her. Its funny how kids having fun act the same way in different parts of the world. Anyway, I got out with them and shared my towel and their mom offered to let us stay at their house, but we maintained we had a party to get back too and what a party it would become.

Hi was now insisting everyone, especially me, samba dance. He also dropped a very poetic version of Imagine by John Lennon on the keyboard, which involved some pretty sweet new lyrics given his limited English vocabulary. I mentioned in between songs that we should probably start getting a move on to the ferry. We had our final drink and about 9 final drinks later the last ferry was gone and we were on a way to a karaoke bar to watch the soccer game and, of course, drink some more. Brazil beat Argentina and karaoke went on for quite a while at the bar. At this point, I didn't hesitate to belt out the only song available in English, “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dione. I thought I was being ravished with praise for my spectacular performance but it turned out Brazil had just scored a goal. On our way back, the streets were clogged with people celebrating Independence Day. A band played on top of a big truck and lights strung between 2 palm trees dimly lit a courtyard packed with gyrating bodies. After we got back, I went with Hi’s daughters and their boyfriends to the dance and stayed Sambaing until 4:00 in the morning. At 2:00, I was like this will stop, no one can possibly dance for this long, but they weren’t even phased. I thought the same thing at 3:00, but it just kept going. Out of all the times I have stuck out as that random white person in my life, I can honestly say this by far took the cake. One week ago I was in a rich suburb, drinking lattes and discussing the pros and cons of universal healthcare and now I was the only white person sambaing at 4:00 in the morning on a tropical island full of black people who spoke no English. We walked back along the palms under nothing but moonlight and, needless to say, I passed out hard.

I awoke just a few hours later to more Samba music blaring from the house. There is never enough Samba in this country. My back was in knots from sleeping on the bad air mattress I shared with another person and when I got into the kitchen Hi greeted me with a shot of whiskey. I thought he was joking, until he downed mine and took his right after. It was 8:00 in the morning; simply put this man is an unadulterated beast. He then went to the fridge and offered me a beer. I told him that I just badly needed some water and he looked at me laughing and said one of my now favorite quotes, “There is water in beer, man”. Ah Himundo, So true, So true. He sat back with his beer, layed his baby granddaughter over his gigantic stomach, looked out to the blue ocean and said, “This is guhd”. Still aching, I couldn’t have agreed more.

Fresh like the First Day of School

School has now gone into full swing…well kind of. Its very nice for me because it takes me less than five minutes to walk to school and classes start on Brazilian time (late). My host mom held me by the arm and walked me to school on the first day too, she is so sweet! We took a placement test for Portuguese and I have switched up from beginner to intermediate (no biggy), at least I think so. We were learning the alphabet in the first class and now I am doing full words so I think that fits accordingly. We also started our Brazilian history/sociology type course where the T.A. scolded us for being rich Americans and told us we live in the bubble of Salvador and we haven’t experienced the real Brazil. I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to apologize but it looks like its going to be a great class. He does have a point though. Our neighborhood does seem very nice, especially considering Salvador is the poorest city in Brazil (which says a lot). There are other nice parts though. Last night, I went with some of the other kids from school to the Pelourinho district of the city, which is like the old colonial section, and they had a band playing and food and drink stands all along the street with lots of people out. It was kind of sketchy but relatively safe at the same time. I feel like that pretty much could describe my experience here all together so far. Oh and I’m trying to get tickets to watch the Brazilian national team take on Chile in something for the World Cup I’m pretty sure. They never play in Salvador either so people are getting extra excited for the game…wish me luck!

So Fresh, So Clean...So Full

My eating has now become out of control. My host moms have become personally offended by my skinniness and are on a mission to get me “big and strong”. It is impossible to eat this much. I eat a huge breakfast, go to class and come back two hours later to find an even bigger lunch. I never have time to digest anything let alone add more to my stomach. I believe everyone knows my pro attitude for eating but I am only one man. I guess I sound like a person complaining he has too much money, this isn’t a real problem, I just feel like it is an unachievable task. I think because most other really skinny people are living in poverty they think they need to step their cooking games up. I am trying to explain I’m just naturally skinny but failing.
In other news, my bags finally arrived and I am feeling good with new clothes and freshly shampooed hair. When I got out of the shower, all my clothes were folded and put away and my bag was stowed in the closet. These ladies are working on a different level.

Leave it to Beaver...or Brazilians

Hey whats up everyone…I’m sorry to report that since I have settled down my life has become far the less kooky, so I don’t know how exciting this blog will remain, but I would still love to tell you about my life here because I’m conceded. I have since found out that my two host moms are cousins, not lesbians, aliens or secret government robots like some theories may have suggested. I must admit, at first, I was disappointed to be living with just two older ladies instead of with some Brazilians my age but now I am LOVING it. I can do no wrong, they are all about me. Since moving here, I have discovered I am incredibly bonito, a terrific eater, have great hair, a fast learner, the list goes on and on. I seriously don’t know why we have people on Prozac, we just send depressed people to a Brazilian house; I have never had such an ego boost in my life. Anyways, they are really great. Barbara works at a hospital and is gone most of the day and Leena (not sure about spelling) takes care of the house and students here.


My Portuguese is improving pretty quickly too. I picked up a pretty good tip that many words in Portuguese are the same in Spanish but with the letter “r” replacing “l”. For example, playa in Spanish is praya in Portuguese, plaza is prasa. It is very helpful but I am having trouble using it without feeling like I’m making fun of Chinese people trying to speak Spanish. It is assisting in furthering conversations with my host moms though. I have made some moves to get further into their graces as well. They asked me if I liked cute girls and I replied (still working at the language, mind you) ,“Yes, but it is necessary to be a good person too”– it was over. They were telling their friends about how thoughtful I was and I think they are trying to hook me up with their nieces now. Oh yes, their family is always coming by. They had a bunch of people over on Sunday and everyone had me read off this list I have with the names of foods translated into Portuguese so they could make fun of the names of things in English; “pineapple” had them rolling. It was pretty funny to experience. I tried to talk about soccer with them but was quickly exposed as a fraud, though we all concurred Ronaldinlho was very ugly (there was a spirited debate about Kaka).


I am also pleased to report that I am now eating like a true don. Every meal is huge portions, always with plates of fresh fruit and a pitcher of fresh squeezed juice. Its amazing, I’ve already decided this trip was worth it based on the meals alone. I think I have eaten more in these few days than I have in the last month. In other words, life at home is so far so good…next stop schoolio (the Portuguese isn’t that quick).

Stop making fun of My long Posts... No you're a loser!

I am posting these concurrently because I don’t know if I will have constant internet access. Anyways, my next day in Brazil proved to be very eventful as well. We had orientation which was nice and I found out we are going to take trips to some pretty cool places and will have plenty of days off thanks to the abundance of holidays in Brazil. I met my host mother at a lunch and was upset at first because I did not take full advantage of our likes and requests list which was used to match you with families. I just said I am open to anything to get a cool family, but then I started hearing lists and lost it. “Jenny you will be staying with the Santos because they have that sailboat you requested.” What the - Sailboat? I requested a shower! But then went back to her apartment where I will be staying and it was really nice. She has one older daughter who doesn’t live in the house (damn) and there is another older woman who lives here too. There is a pictures of Jesus throughout the house so I don’t think they are lesbians (Do they have lesbians in Brazil?) and I haven’t yet figured out how to ask if they are sisters. Anyways they are both very nice and loving. There is also a German exchange student living in the house who speaks fluent English. We have been forbidden from speaking English to each other and are being scolded regularly. My relationship with the two mothers of the house pretty much consists of lots of pointing, hand gestures and funny faces. Its actually pretty fun, although I think I may have inadvertently turned down dinner about five minutes ago. They did not seem too impressed with the San Diego mug I gave them but were ecstatic over the box of chocolates I brought. Middle age women loving chocolates ?–it crazy here, I know. We went to the mall to buy some shorts too– side note they are called bermudas here and I can’t stop wondering if they are named after the island or vice versa – and I was given a tour of the city. The city is very old but beautiful. The beaches are packed with scantily dressed people and look very nice (both the beaches and the people). I am starting to think that the Brazilian love for soccer is a just stereotype as well. I would say there is a game going every fifty feet throughout the city with a greater abundance on the beach. Oh yeah, my apartment is very close to the beach and has a beautiful view. The weather is really mild too, I expected to be blasted by humidity but its like California on a nice day. I don’t really have anyway of contacting other kids in the program until we start class on Monday but I will be sure to impress in the same clothes I have been wearing since Thursday since my bags are still lost. I am insanely glad I listened to my cousin Charolette and put a toothbrush in my back pack. Right now I am insanely tired, possibly getting sick and am ready to sleep for a very long time. The ocean breeze is coming through my window, the cars of the city are rolling by and someone on the street has just shouted “GOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL” for the third time. I am definitely in a different world right now and best of all…still alive!

What a Day(s)

Wow. The last days have slurred together in a mass of travel and confusion. Yes I am here, and alive no less, in none other than BRAZIL. To make it all the way to Salvador da Bahia was no easy task. I braced myself in LAX as I began my travels with a flight a good thousand miles out of the way to Toronto (I’m not sure why either). Seeing so many Canadians at once was very weird. They seem like Americans just with something off about them. I can’t really name it but it is obviously there. There restaurants seem the same way; the double cheeseburger I bought was good in principle but there was just something off about it, something Canadian. Their money exchange workers really suck too. My program guide told me to bring around $60 in Brazilian reals with me, but when I tried to exchange it at the teller, he scoffed (YES SCOFFED!) and informed me “it wasn’t worth his time to deal with such petty amounts of cash” and that there was a hundred dollar exchange limit. I told him he wasn’t worth a long list of expletives, but in my head because I needed money. He did take my ATM card and told me $60 couldn’t even get me a cab away from the airport. He would know because he is a jet-setting financier and not some guy who changes money out at the Canadian airport, oh wait…But I digress, I found the gate for my plane in time to find out it would be a half hour late. This would be a great foreshadow of what was to come. Instead we waited a full hour, boarded the plane and found out there would be another 45 minute wait. We eventually did take off though; I sat next to a very tired but nice woman from Recife dying to get home after spending 4 months in Canada (who can blame her). She helped me fill out my customs form in exchange for my agreement to be in charge of opening the emergency door in case of, you guessed it, an emergency. It was nice sitting in the emergency aisle because we had a little extra room to stretch out during the 10+ hour flight. I actually got a little sleep too, enough to wake up and find we were landing after my connecting flight from Sao Paulo to Salvador would take off. My flight landed at 12: 40 pm local time, and insanity followed.
Getting off the plane was a zoo. In Brazil (and maybe in other countries too, I’m not sure), you have to get your bag and place it through customs, leave the security area and re-check it if you have a connection. I tried to make into the pack swarming the baggage claim when I heard my name called over the intercom. The woman at the counter told me my luggage was not on this flight; somehow my 3 hour layover and the 2 extra hours they had at the gate was not enough time to get one duffle bag on the plane…Canadians. She was very apologetic and rushed me through customs with a paper for my new flight. I left her side at the customs gate and have never felt so lost in my life. There were people people people rushing everywhere and I had no clue where to go. I tried asking people but they just ignored me. At this point I was thinking: Why did I choose to watch the zany antics of Zac Efron and Matthew Perry (a comical force by the way) in 17 Again on the plane instead of studying Portuguese!? I found my airline desk after wandering through a few floors and the line was packed. No one was moving but then someone randomly called Salvador and a new line was formed. The lady at the desk didn’t speak English but managed to yell at me “GO! NOW!” because my new flight was about to leave. I made it through security unsettlingly quick and ran to my gate to find no plane waiting outside the window and a mass of people crowding the desk screaming. It was unreal, like when you see people at the stock market freaking out in movies multiplied by 10. I once again had no idea what was going on. My flight wasn’t on the departures screen and no one spoke English. At this point I was thinking: Why did I choose to watch The Goonies AND a Fidel Castro documentary instead of studying Portuguese? I know Chunk will do the Truffle Shuffle, I know Fidel is a bastard, I don’t know how to say What the Hell is going on!?? in Portuguese. After much waiting, I somehow made it to the front and was handed a new ticket and told to go to Gate 1. There was another mass of yelling and pushing but I saw someone else going to Salvador hop on a bus so I followed suit. Luckily, that brought us to our plane and a good six hours after I was supposed to be there, I arrived in Salvador. Without the inconvenience of waiting for my baggage, I strolled right up to a Taxi booth and grossly overpaid for a ride to my hotel (I am choosing to believe that stupid money teller was not right). The hotel was nice and I shared a room with some people from my program. I met a bunch of people in the program too, I feel pretty lame because everyone seems to know each other and I don’t know anyone, but no one really seems to mind I guess. Oh and best of all, I didn’t die! What a day(s).

Post Uno

Hey, whats going on everyone. To quell the rapid demand for all that is Mike spreading throughout the United States, I have created this blog to keep everyone updated on my trip to Brazil. I haven't packed yet or done anything really to get ready for my flight tommorow, so I am going to keep this short and sweet. I don't know what the internet set up will be like down there, but I hope to keep this as updated as possible. Also, my address in Brazil will be:

Michael Uberti
Associação Cultural Brasil Estados Unidos (ACBEU)
Av. Sete de Setembro, 1883
Corredor da Vitoria
40080-002 Salvador, Bahia
BRAZIL

If anyone plans on sending me anything, it is best to use Global Express by USPS or FedEx (at least thats what someone who went to Brazil told me, I actually have no idea). I will be excepting cookies and any variety of baked goods and candy that can fit into a postage box. It might help you get a souviner of your own. Well, my next stop is Brazil... So Until then I will say good-bye