I apologize for the abrupt Font change, from the slightly curvy, yet still practical Georgia style, to the thin, straight, banal Times New Roman script. Before publishing my last post, I gave Times a try, just to see what it would look like. Once I decided that I didn’t like the change, this obstinate blog website would not allow me to return to Georgia, as if to calmly say “once you go Times, you never go back.” But I went back. And now that I’m in Georgia, I’ll tell you about the differences between Brazil and the United States. (Now that’s an ambiguous sentence.)
I’ll admit, when I arrived, I expected to see monkeys in the street. Nah, kidding. But in all seriousness, when I got here I felt like I missed out on my share of culture shock, if that makes any sense. Because I was well informed of Brazilian lifestyle, thanks to former exchange students from Brazil, and the Rotary program, things weren’t as foreign to me as I would have expected. I wasn’t ever knocked off of my feet in the way some ex-exchange students had described their arrivals to different countries. But I’ve made an effort to notice specific differences between things at home and things in the southern part of Brazil, and I’ve divided them into seven categories : Catholic influence, poverty, extra curricular activities, transportation, scenery, things that relate to mealtime, and climate. I’ll even throw some Justin Bieber in there, too. Don’t worry, though. I’m not going to make you listen to his music, I’m only going to talk about him.
1. I had never seen a crucifix in a bank until I came to Brazil. The fact that about 75 percent of Brazilians consider themselves to be Roman Catholic, not just Christian, explains why when I made a transaction at Citi Bank, I saw a crucifix as opposed to just a cross.
Most people have probably seen a picture of the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro. Well it doesn’t only exist in Rio. There are mini replicas of it all over the place. My host parents and I took a road trip to visit relatives in a city called Dourados, seven hours northwest of Londrina, and it seemed like every town on the way sported a smaller version of the statue. Jesus is well-liked here.
In my Catholic school education, I learned that it was a mortal sin in violation of the fifth commandment to drink to the point of intoxication. I think Brazil prefers a loose interpretation of the Ten Commandments because even though everybody’s Catholic, they’re not afraid to inebriate.
2. I have heard Brazil being referred to as a “third world country” a few times since I’ve been here. This weekend, I got a small taste of what the phrase actually means. We passed through many small towns on the way to Dourados, and it was not uncommon to see adults and children sitting on curbs in dirty clothes, barefoot, wearing tired and gloomy expressions. Moreover, on the way home, I noticed a group of about forty one-room homes made with tarp roofs and walls. I’ve been told that the south of Brazil is an area that is less poverty-stricken compared to other places. In Rio de Janeiro, there is a tarp community of over 100,000 people.
The political leaders in Brazil are not helping the poverty situation. It’s election season, and my host dad is not a fan of the current president. During my first month, he told me about the political corruption in Brazil. At first I imagined that his statistics were greatly exaggerated when he said that half of the country‘s tax money goes into President Lula‘s pocket. But while we were in Dourados, his claim became more realistic. We watched a segment on the national news about the scandal that unfolded right in our relatives’ hometown. Twenty eight of Dourados’ municipal officials including the mayor, the vice-mayor, and the mayor’s wife were all convicted of embezzlement.
In the U.S., increased taxes are frustrating a lot of people. But I imagine that it would be even more frustrating to know that greedy politicians are literally “taking the money out of your pocket,” not spending it on roads or public schools that desperately need improvement. More frustrating than that, I think, would be to not any have money in the first place; to know that the people who were elected, probably having made claims to get the country out of poverty, are more interested in getting rich themselves than helping the poor. I imagine that embezzling politicians are not easing the discomfort one feels while sleeping under a tarp.
3. Justin Bieber is the cutest thing since sliced bread. Well, that’s what they tell me anyways. I don‘t actually know what he looks like. The only reason I can attach a name to the annoying falsetto singing “Baby Baby” (is it a falsetto or is he just twelve?) is because of the fact that Brazilian girls drool over him. I spent the better part of Monday thinking about the young star, and how the female brain works; fascinating, the latter. Someone should write a book about it.
I got to thinking about JB because of what happened Last Friday night, while I was out on the town with some exchange students. It was about 1 a.m. when we decided to go to a Karaoke bar. As we arrived, two girls outside of the bar saw, and reacted to, my friend Lars, a tall, slender, sixteen year-old German boy with nice hair.
“O JOO SHTEEN BEE BER!” screamed the more excited, and more intoxicated, of the two. (The article ‘o’ is a form of the word ‘the.’ In regular speech, the masculine ‘o’ and feminine ‘a’ are placed before names, corresponding with gender.)
It was his hair that sealed the deal. That long, soft, thin, tantalizing, light brown hair. How’s a girl supposed to resist?
We chatted outside the bar for a few minutes, and eventually went in and sat at table with the girls and their friends. The rest of the night, because of the language barrier, notes were passed back and forth between the boy wonder and the intriguing stranger. Yes, notes. Like in middle school. Get over it. English is Lars’ second language, and he speaks very little Portuguese, so we were glad to assist him with the note composition. Of course, we had to include our own creativity and interpretation to the messages.
The final outcome of Lars’ encounter remains to be seen. Phone numbers were exchanged, although Lars doesn’t have a cell phone (poor thing). You can use your imagination to decide how things played out because, if and when they ‘play out,’ I’m not going to post the results on this blog, as that would be uncouth. Perhaps I’ve already been uncouth.
This section is about Justin Bieber and a Karaoke bar, so it’s about time I talk about some music. That night, I was happy to have found “Strangers in the Night” by Frank Sinatra in the song book. Unfortunately, the girls were outside smoking while I sang, so the only props I got were from a friendly old man.
I now know why Justin Bieber trades musical integrity for a catchy, ring-tone-esque sound. He would rather appeal to young girls than to old men. That’s fair, I guess.
For now, the female brain remains un-figured-out.
Speaking of female brains: this just in! Literally 18 minutes ago, my mother told me via Facebook that my blog ‘needs dusting off.’ Because I never disobey my mother, I will take her hint and publish this blog entry in the form of a Trilogy. You just read part one.
Thanks for your time. Stay tuned.
