Adventures of a Gringa in Rio

the friend dilemma

Over the past two days I met a couple of my readers in the city and it was really fun to chat with some of my "virtual" friends. I'm thinking of having another meet and greet at the end of the summer at a Brazilian place somewhere in the city. I'll keep you posted.

Something I've been grappling with since I came home is the friend dilemma. I was really bad about keeping in touch when I was away, out of laziness and mostly out of homesickness, since it made me really sad to talk to people I couldn't see for a long time.

But historically, I've been very bad about keeping friends in the long term. Camp friends and summer program friends just seemed to fade away with time. There are so many college friends I haven't talked to in ages. I barely talk to any one from high school, but that's another story. It just seems that the farther away you move in time and space from a person, the less you have in common until there's really nothing left. Sometimes it seems that certain friends fit you for certain chapters of your life, and when you move on, you move on from those friends, too.

That's why I am consciously making an effort to see my friends, to avoid being antisocial and to try to "catch up" with the ones most important to me. One of the worst things about living abroad, post-college, is not having the network of people who best understand you, or being able to easily build a new group of close friends. I'm just trying not to let distance and time separate me from my friends, but I know that the real friends, the ones worth keeping, are the ones to whom time and distance don't matter, in the long run.

My declaration of independence

I started writing this post about a week ago, since it became clear to me that my parents are very much opposed to my return to Brazil. Among other things, they have expressed their concern that I have turned into an impoverished expat wifey, abandoning my dreams and career for a man. This was highly upsetting to me, and I launched into self-defense mode, ready to write out a whole list of reasons why they were wrong.

At first, I was going to explain all of the things I have left to do. A neighbor asked me why I was going back, pondering, "Do you have unfinished business?" And that's precisely what I have, between experimenting with new jobs, continuing my work at the ballet NGO, and so much traveling I still want to do. And obviously, reuniting with Eli and trying to figure out where we're going to go from here.

But then I thought about it some more, beyond the obvious reasons I want to go back, and I realized that if anything, I've been using Eli as an excuse. I obviously don't want to be apart from him, but I also don't want to make any real adult life decisions yet, and moving abroad has been the perfect way to avoid them.

I realized I don't need to justify anything to anyone. Below you will find my declaration of independence, one I think many gringos my age will relate to.

When, in the course of adulthood it becomes necessary for one person to stretch the bands which have connected her with her country of birth and to assume the potential that lies within her, the separate and equal position amongst siblings to which the Laws of the American Family entitle her, a decent respect to the opinions of youth requires that she should declare the causes which impel her to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all twenty-somethings are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Love, and the pursuit of Self.
--That we can only blame our parents, the children of the Sixties, who broke with convention, refusing to accept the status quo, and traveling abroad themselves in search of new horizons;
-That we do not have to know what we want to do or know when we will know what we want to do, since we have the rest of our lives to decide on a career;
-That we deserve to love and be loved by whomever we please;
-That we can be reckless and naive, in order to learn from our own mistakes and not from a textbook;
-That we reserve the right to wander aimlessly in search of nothing and everything;
-That we travel to worlds we might otherwise never know;
-That we might walk in someone else's shoes so that one day we will be better, more compassionate citizens;
-That we might truly appreciate where we come from and everything we've ever been given;
-That life is brief and there's little time to waste in a poorly-lit office when there's a whole planet to explore;
-That we leave so that we will want to come back for good;
-That no parent, professor, or peer tell us what to do, and that we instead find the answers for ourselves.

We, therefore, the twenty-somethings of the United States of America, in general agreement, appealing to the Supreme Judge of Homes in which we Grew for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good, albeit lost youth of these States, solemnly publish and declare, That these united twenty-somethings are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent Expatriates. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on our own checking accounts, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Hopes, and our Paths, wherever they may lead.

--Rio Gringa

Gringos in Brazil: Story of the Week

Do you have any weird or interesting stories about gringos in Brazil? If so, please send them to me! I'd like to start posting more of these, because they are just so fascinating.

Thanks to Guilherme for sending this story about a wave of Midwestern farmers who moved to Bahia. Since farmland in the US has become incredibly expensive, they moved here to try their luck on the land, much like the pioneers of the Oregon Trail, but with a lot more money and comfort. It seems that it was the idea of the husbands, for economic and "adventure" reasons, while the wives reluctantly went along, though they now seem to be quite happy. Read the full story for details, and check out the video too.

Speaking of gringos, I was very pleased with myself today when I saw several people who had googled "doing coke in Brazil" and "getting laid in Brazil" who got my Top 10 Misconceptions about Brazil page. Ha!

questions and answers

Right before I left for Brazil, right after I'd graduated from college, I had to fill out a form. One of the questions was about my profession. For some reason, that question made me upset, since I was no longer a student and didn't know when or if I would be one again, and I still didn't have a job. I left the question blank. But it definitely got me thinking.

So as I prepare to leave Brazil tomorrow, I realized that I have more questions now than before I came. Who am I? Am I an English teacher? Am I a writer? Am I a ballet instructor? Am I hopeless? Am I good at anything? Have I accomplished something? Have I wasted my time? Do I have a chance of making everything work? Has it been worth it?

I'm hoping that by going home, I'll be able to clarify some of these questions, and come back having a better idea of where I'm going.

what i haven't seen in a year

My brother, my dog, my extended family, my house, my best friend, 95% of my friends, Tivo, NYC, my cell phone that is not pay as you go, snow, the inside of a real classroom, real Oreos, a real can of soup, DC, a CVS-style drug store, the United States of America.

While I was making this list I realized how Americanized Brazil has come, because there are so many things from home that they have here, like big malls, fast food, American TV and movies, and even SUVs. Wow.

______________

The other day I was explaining to my student that I hadn't been home in a year and I was leaving next week. He shook his head furiously and said, "Well of course you need to go home! A year away from your friends and family!" Later, when he was leaving and we were saying good bye, he said (less coherently): "Make sure you hug a lot and you kiss a lot your family and friends." I laughed at the time, but thinking back on it, it makes me a little teary. Because I will hug and kiss them all a lot, for sure.

clarity

Today I had a difficult decision to make, but after I made it I felt lighter. I realized that I'd rather suffer from being broke and guilt-free than from feeling guilty for being a liar. I'm a terrible liar, anyway, and it was eating away at me that I was going to have to lie, big time. So I've decided to go the honest and expensive route. I feel pretty good about it.

Tonight Eli, his friend, and I went to get a pizza and we ran into Eli's cousin and her boyfriend, so we all had a big Valentine's Day pizza party (it's Valentine's Day here, by the way, they just call it "Dia dos Namorados"). Then we played some pool, which I found surprisingly fun, and hung out in the apartment.

I am slowly but surely lifting myself out of the funk and trying, very hard, to enjoy my last few days. Tomorrow is going to be mildly ridiculous--I haven't started packing yet--and we're going to Eli's parents on Saturday. It leaves me very little time to get my stuff together. Thanks to my mom, and Eli, and some readers actually, I am feeling less upset.

Speaking of readers, Eli and I conducted the raffle and....drum roll please...Julie is the winner! (He supervised and can assure you there was no cheating!) You have been notified and you should get your package by the end of next week. All of the contestants will get a little sumin-sumin from Rio Gringa though, so don't be sad! Also, I'm thinking about doing another raffle to benefit the ballet, since there are some independent projects I'd like to work on! Any ideas for what I could raffle off? That aren't cachaca or breakable, that is.

Thank you to all who contributed who are helping me keep up the blog! Sometime in the next two weeks I will be upgrading, while I experience intense culture shock. Should be fun.

last

I know I'm coming back to Brazil soon, but leaving is the end of an era, and when I come back things are going to be different, hopefully for the better. But every day this week I can't help but think, this is the last...

...ballet class with my kids, who are such incredibly mature, wonderful human beings that have been a blessing to work with;

...last overpriced send-out of the laundry;

...the last English classes with my students, some of which I've had for nearly a year;

...last visit to the English school office;

...last morning of wandering through Old Centro;

...last paycheck;

...last bills paid;

...last walk down the hall to my apartment.

I am so stressed, between pre-culture shock, fear, and general pre-departure woes, that I am completely out of it. I'm surprised I even made it home without getting off at the wrong Metro stop.

Oh and PS, thanks to Guilherme for this really interesting article from Reuters about what Brazilians think of Obama.

signs of stress

...a headache three nights in a row, one of which woke me up in dizzy, nauseous pain, making me miss my morning class;

...mysterious stomach pain;

...the urge to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the day instead of dealing with everything;

...unreasonable fury at the American preaching in Centro, who apparently is an excellent marketing tactic for the Evangelicals, who are simultaneously translating his speech on repeat and had huge crowds all day;

...crying spells;

...time moving unnaturally slowly;

...a racing mind I can't slow down.

I need a massage.

a note on blogging

Sometimes, right after the sun has set and the sky is still light, I can see camera flashes from the Christ statue in my backyard. It always makes me smile, because I'm just a speck in the huge valley that some tourist is photographing, but also because I can see them, but they can't see me.

Which brings me to the topic at hand: blogging.

Anonymity is one of the most important things that fuels blogging, because people can read intimate details of a stranger's life, and that stranger may never know. People can write horribly mean comments to a blogger without even leaving a name, like walking up to a person in real life, slapping them in the face, and walking away.

So when Emily Gould's story came out in the New York Times Magazine this weekend, the article and the resulting comments really got me thinking.

Have I shared too much of my life on my blog? Probably. Has it already gotten me in trouble with loved ones, and could it get me in trouble with them in the future? For sure. Could I get dooced for my blog? Likely.

Has it been worth it? Absolutely.

In many ways, I have been a huge failure here in Brazil. This blog has served as a substitute for personal emails and phone calls to my friends and family and as a substitute for reaching out to meet new people. I've made some friends, but not as many as I'd like, especially not Brazilians. This blog started as a way to keep my friends and family up to date on my life, and turned into a cathartic, obsessive exercise that I do every day, instead of actual exercise. I haven't turned out to be a very good or successful English teacher, and without other job options I turned to blogging, which actually has begun to be lucrative for me. When Eli works a lot, I turn to my blog. And when I think about how broke I am and chose not to go out and do something, I turn to my blog.

I understand Emily's dilemma. Blogging is highly addictive and is also very attractive for people with obsessive tendencies like myself. The more you blog, the more you want to blog. And since it's fun, the concept of getting paid for it is exciting. It also gives you the chance to practice writing to improve your overall style. It's also both selfish and masochistic, since you crave praise but also expect inevitable negative comments. It's exciting to know that people from all over the world are reading your words and considering what you have to say.

The main difference between Emily and I, I think, is what we have to offer. As the Brazilians say, "Nao presta nada." She wrote about her life and about celebrities, which can be entertaining, but is largely superficial. What I hope to do with this blog is not just to entertain with silly details about my life but also to provide news, information, and education about Brazil and Latin America, as well as to inspire people to travel and move abroad, and above all, to CARE about Latin America. I also hope that I inspire people to get involved in social causes like I am. My blog provides a space for people all over the world to discuss current events and culture and living abroad. There are plenty of blogs that do this, and aren't just ranting, raving, and making fun of people like other blogs.

I resent anti-bloggers for thinking that all blogs are superficial, selfish forums to air your grievances and to talk about yourself incessantly. Blogs are the wave of the future, and have enormous potential of how people get, share, and discuss information, especially as traditional news sources, like newspapers, are slipping.

So for better or for worse, Emily's warning will not stop me from blogging.

on graduation

A year ago today I graduated from college. This makes me a little scared because the farther away I move from that date the older I get and the closer I move to REAL RESPONSIBILITY.

So, college grads, I'd like to impart some wisdom to you. With a Top Ten List, of course.

10. Be prepared that the world is MUCH more expensive when you are paying for everything.
9. Unless you're applying to grad school or trying to get a very specific job, your GPA doesn't matter.

8. You're going to miss the stress of papers and exams compared to Real Life stress.
7. The network of college clubs, organizations, and events are now gone.

6. Having a social life takes more effort when you're not on or near a college campus.
5. Experiment. You don't have to know what your career is yet; try out different jobs.

4. Read my Top Ten Ways to Stay Sane After You Graduate (Brazilian Style)
3. Do what makes you happy and don't listen to people who tell you "what's best for you."

2. Travel. It's the best time to do it.
1. It's all downhill from here.

And that's the cold, hard truth.

seriously.

Last week our landlord stopped by and asked Eli and I if we'd like a new wardrobe. Little did I know that saying yes would turn into an Ordeal.

So the story is that the landlord's kids have moved into the guy's second apartment, except they wanted different closets so we are moving out our current wardrobe (which is small) and moving in one of the ones from the other apartment. My landlord said his son and a guy would come by tonight after 6:30 to do the move.

At 8pm, my landlord called me to tell me the guys were coming up. I had 10 minutes to take out all of our clothes from the wardrobe and empty Eli's Drawer of Crap and move everything to make way for the new wardrobe. Somewhere along the line, I came back into the bedroom and I heard a hissing sound, like an egg frying quietly. At first I thought it might be the wind blowing through the window, since it tends to make weird noises, but this was a very distinct burning noise. So I finally managed to locate the source of the hissing and I realized somehow one of Eli's batteries had come in contact with a metal cup, both from the Drawer of Crap which I had put in a shopping bag. The battery was definitely sizzling. I panicked and managed to tweeze the battery out of the bag and now it is sitting quietly in the bathroom where it cannot harm anyone.

The men came up and first moved out our wardrobe and then started constructing the new one, piece by piece. While moving the old one out, they knocked over one of our shelf-drawer things in the living room, sending little rocks from our cactus flying. Our neighbors must be pissed because it's 10pm and they're still banging away. My landlord just arrived to oversee the job and to make me uncomfortable and guilty that our house isn't in perfect order (ha! order is a stretch for what it is right now). The good news is we have a huge closet that's almost ready, and after wanting to reorganize my stuff for so long, now I'm being forced to. Though we are moving out soon. That is so scary.

Mother's Day note

Dear Mom,

I hope you had a Happy Mother's Day, and I'm sorry I was so far away. Jon and I tried to coordinate a gift to split but we didn't quite get it together, and Dad wasn't very interested in helping, either. In any event, I'm sorry that all I could do was a card, but I'm writing to tell you that I've decided to come home in June, even though I will most likely come alone.

This will make my life considerably more difficult but I'd like to spend some time with you and the rest of the family before I come back here. I also would like to put your worries at ease because I'm not nearly as lost as you think. I'm mostly just frustrated at being broke and being powerless to immigration law which is making me and Eli's relationship rather challenging. I don't know what I want to do with "my" career, but I don't have to know yet. I'm still young and I reserve the right to be confused and broke until I'm 29, because that gives me a year to really get my shit together. I may seem lost but I have lots of dreams brewing, and I'm confident that at least one will pan out.

So I suggest you shift all of your worrying energy to my brother, and try to convince him to come back with me to Brazil, where I will find him an Amazonian shaman to try to get rid of his headaches. That or the mago up the street.

Love,
Rachel

growl

I feel like someone has taken a cheese grater to my throat. I kind of sound like it too.  I'm covered from head to toe in mosquito bites and I'm praying they aren't from dengue mosquitoes.

I talked to my best friend last night who is back home in the States after traveling the world for nearly a year. Now she plans on moving back abroad in the fall because her British boyfriend can't stay in the US for more than three months. She did, however, make me feel better about not wanting to stay in the US to start my "real life" and tried to convince me (and Eli) to move with her to New Zealand. No dice...yet.

The Sex and the City movie is coming out 13 days later in Brazil than in the US (though Indiana Jones will be released on the same day in both countries. Wtf?) This means I may not be able to use the internet for two weeks. It does, however, give me something to look forward to in June.

The weather is beautiful again--too bad I'm in no shape to enjoy it. The Cristo report is: currently swarmed by tourist helicopters under a clear purple sky.

a blast from the past

This weekend I was sweatily wandering around Ipanema and I passed the main mass of juice bars, thinking there would be more further down the street. But I couldn't find one to my liking so I wandered and found one of the last ones in Ipanema right before the Leblon border, and I ordered an acerola/orange juice. While I was gratefully sipping away, I realized I was at the very juice bar I went to on my very first visit to Brazil, two years ago, where I had acai for the first time with one of my best friends from college. I didn't speak Portuguese very well at the time, but I was quite pleased with myself for being able to order us drinks, hoping the waiter didn't notice we were gringas.

Then on Saturday, I was idly flipping through channels when I hit Sony and my jaw hit the floor, because Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was at MY high school. I knew the star of the show, a kid who's friends with my ex-boyfriend, half of the kids they showed, all of the teachers and the principal, and even a few of the parents. It was profoundly weird to see my high school and then the kids I knew, while being here, so far away. They not only showed the school but also the prom, which was held at the same place my high school prom was held. When it was over, I felt like Alice when she woke up after her jaunt in Wonderland, or those annoying British kids after they came out of the wardrobe. After suppressing memories of high school for so long, being back there virtually was very odd: I felt a twinge of nostalgia, but it also made me really not want to be there ever again.

Yesterday, when we got to the beach with Eli's family, I didn't recognize where we were until we went for a walk and found the rock that says: DO NOT CLIMB: MILITARY PROPERTY. I remembered it from pictures Eli sent me about two months before I came to Rio to live here. He took a picture of the rock, and also of him and his family against the bumpy skyline of Rio's mountains. When he sent me those pictures, I was so incredibly jealous: not just of Eli being on a paradisaical beach, but of his family, who were lucky enough to be with him, while I was a couple thousand miles away, back when we were doing long-distance. I prayed that time would pass quickly so I would soon be in Rio at Eli's side, and not staring at him through a computer screen.

That was nearly a year ago, and I scarcely recognize that bitter, lonely girl as being me.