On Sunday, Eli and I went to Angra with over sixty other people to attend his little sister's festa de quinze anos (fifteenth birthday party).
Normally, Brazilian girls have a big party when they turn fifteen (like a sweet sixteen a year earlier), when they wear fancy gowns and do a formal waltz, amongst other things. But Eli's sister decided to have a small celebration instead of the regular festivities so she can go to New York in December. I'm hoping her parents manage to save the money to send her, because I know how much she'll love it.
Even though the party was supposed to be smaller and less formal than the regular festa, I couldn't believe how many people she invited, and how many of those people she didn't really know. It was more like a wedding guest list than a teenage girl's birthday party list: she invited just a few friends, all of her extended family, and a whole complicated network of acquaintances: her boyfriend, her boyfriend's parents, her boyfriend's brother and sister, her boyfriend's brother's girlfriend, her friends' parents and siblings, her cousin's boyfriend, her cousin's boyfriend's brother, her other cousin's girlfriend, her brother's girlfriend, her brother's girlfriend's parents, her brother's girlfriend's uncle, her brother's girlfriend's brother, her brother's girlfriend's brother's girlfriend....need I continue?
We took a van from Rio to Angra, and I started to feel a little dizzy toward the end of the trip in the stuffy van on the crazy curves en route to the port. We all loaded onto the boat, which drove in circles for an hour until Eli's sister's friends showed up. I was seething by the time they got there, since there was a seven or eight year-old kid with ADD who kept pummeling me for no apparent reason, and I was ready to push him overboard. But we got going, and things got better.
They served snacks and drinks en route to the first stop, one of the beautiful lagoons where all the boats stop. Most people got out and swam, but the water was too cold for me (go figure). Then we stopped at a beach with a great little restaurant, where we ate lunch, and then went to the last beach connected to a few other beaches. Eli and I hiked around and hung out with the other guests, and then we all got back on the boat to go home.
We were a half hour from the port when they cut the motors so people could give speeches and we could have cake. But therein lies the problem in having a party on a boat: it rocks. A lot.
So as the microphone was passed from Eli's dad to Eli's sisters' friends, to Eli's cousin, to Eli himself, the boat started to sway. I started to feel seasick; not the traditional nausea, like the kind that comes from contracting an amoeba, or realizing something is terribly wrong, or food poisoning. It's a severely unnatural feeling, when your body realizes that it is doing something that it shouldn't be. I tried to focus on the horizon, but I started to feel awful. Eli gave a little speech, calling his sister his xodó, so she started to cry, and then all of the women started to cry. I tried to concentrate on crying. Then we all ate cake and brigadeiro and listened to Eli's reggaeton CD (we must have been the only tour boat in the country playing reggaeton).
As we drew closer to the port, I was still feeling awful, and when I got off the boat, I started to feel worse. My stomach was still swaying, like one of those pirate ship amusement park rides, while the rest of my body was now inert. I buried my head in my hands, and soon there was a small circle of worried faces peering down at me. "Drink something," Eli's mom said. "Have some seltzer," Eli's cousin advised. Another cousin piped up, "Keep your head straight up instead of crouching, and keep your hand under your nose." With that, Eli's aunt plopped down next to me, fastened her palm to my forehead, and pulled my head back, except at a 20 degree angle, backwards. My neck started to hurt, and I was incredibly uncomfortable. I squirmed a little, but didn't want to say anything to offend her. She held me like that for a minute or two, and when she let go, my seasickness was almost completely gone.
On the ride home, under a blanket of stars, I came to two conclusions. The first was that I was no longer impressed by the incredible beauty of this place; I recognize it, but I'm not really affected by it. I've started to take it for granted. I've become a local in that sense, but it's not really a pleasant feeling. The second thing was that for better or for worse, Eli's family really has become my second family. And though some of them get on my nerves sometimes, I'm grateful to have them as my Brazilian family. They've got my back--or rather, my neck.











