That's "Happy Darwin Day" to all of you who aren't currently in Brazil (oh...and yes, I do realize that I should have gone with
Portuguese instead of Spanish , but I work with what I know). It's the 200
th anniversary of Darwin's B-day and the 150
th anniversary of the publication of
On The Origin of Species and I get the joy of spending it less than a couple hundred kilometers from where The Beagle first made landfall on the South American continent....not bad. No, not bad at all. Well...that's not to say that things haven't gone bad, or at least odd, on this trip so far though....
Well, I don't know whether to begin or end by talking about my "guide" here in Brazil. He is a nice man, working for the company I'm meeting with here, but....to say he is helping me, guiding me, or anything else of the sort, is a bit of a stretch. So far, he's gotten lost or severely confused while driving to the following places: the airport parking lot exit, my first hotel, dinner the first night, to work the 1st day, from work the 1st day, to work the 2nd day, from work the 2nd day, to work, from work, to work, from work....literally every day (and yes it is to and from the same place), into the hotel parking lot, out of the hotel parking lot (although in all fairness, this one he was trying to do while in reverse...for no apparent reason...which is tough...and also makes all of the buttons to raise the gait on the wrong side of the car), to dinner tonight, home from dinner tonight. I'm not even going to begin talking about the mishaps he has while trying to WALK towards any particular entrance or exit.
None the less though, my friend did get me a pretty good meal....well...not Monday night when, after work, he said he would call me in a little bit for dinner and then did....at 6:15 the next morning...because he fell asleep. However, we have been to one Brazilian BBQ which was incredible. And while they haven't yet fed me cow brains, as my mom warned and had experienced herself down here, I have had to fight off more than my fair share of chicken hearts. On our way home from the BBQ, after running 2 red lights because "this is not an area you want to stop and wait in," my friend said, "I'm so sad, the hungry is dead" - which is either a brilliant joke or a horrible misunderstanding on my part. I don't know which, but for the rest of the drive, all I could picture was a small orange fuzzy monster, the one representing hunger in recent diet ads, stumbling out of the restaurant, clutching his chest, and slowly expiring along the side of the road.
Prior to going to dinner, my friend (I'm going to keep calling him "friend" because if I let my actual emotions get out about him, I'm worried what I would say) and his wife were nice enough to take me shopping in case I wanted to buy anything. Unfortunately, it was to....the mall. America invented the mall (as far as I know) and so it was really the last place I wanted to shop. I was already picturing arriving home and giving Heidi her present..."here you go honey, it's from Lady Foot Locker...no...the one in Brazil!" However, Heidi can't even get that, because everything was closed except for the bookstore...essentially a Barnes and Noble. I said, "that's okay, I'll look around here" (primarily because I had been warned that the town we were traveling to for the week was tiny and without anything to do). So I was trying to find all my gifts and souvenirs at this store...which is all the more annoying when my friend and his wife, to be helpful no doubt, followed me step by step through the store, peering over my shoulder, repeatedly insisting that I go to the English Language section. I wanted to shout...."Listen dammit, if I wanted to latest Dean Koontz paperback I would have bought it at the Des Moines airport! Now let me shop and buy something unique." In the end, however, I did not say that, and they did force me to the English language section and made the worker there go find and bring me every English language book in the store. After settling on a few, I looked at the journals on the way to the checkout. I found one that looked really great, wrapped in leather, unique....as I looked through it, my friend took it from my hand, said "it is a diary...but no dates on the pages....that's not good" and put it back on the shelf. So, not wanting to offend, I left it there...the one item I actually wanted in the store....and headed off to pay. While in line, my friends wife, having seen the problem with the journal I wanted...brought me a suitable replacement. A bright pink plastic diary with a little girl on it covered in sparkles, hearts and flowers....Perfect! (Heidi...guess what present you're getting from Brazil)
So, I should really move on to more pressing matters...such as work. On Monday morning we met up with a coworker, Ana, and headed off to our client's site...a major chemical manufacturer. Because this is a major worldwide company, they required us all to go through safety training first. The three of us checked in, went to the meeting room, and sat down amongst a group of about 50 people. The trainers came out, and it began...in Portuguese....for two hours. If you've ever had trouble staying awake during a long company meeting of your own, try doing it when you don't understand a word being said, at all, and they just keep talking, and talking, and talking. Luckily I was able to entertain myself by watching my surroundings...such as my friend with his head between in legs sleeping, and Ana, her legs crossed into her lap, scouring up and down each with tweezers, pulling out every hair she found....right next to me....in the company meeting. i was relieved when we finally took a break until I realized that during this break they began handing out a stack of papers and pens....a test...in Portuguese. I have to thank my friend, however, because without missing a beat (for once) he gave me a look and leaned in towards me with his paper. It was multiple choice...I passed the test.
So....what else could possibly have happened during my trip that would warrant a blog entry...there can't be anything else right? Wrong! Here they are in condensed story format:
Tuesday...while getting into the car after a long day of work I heard a horrifying "riiip." yes...it was the seat of my pants ripping out. Luckily we only had to make two stops on the way to the hotel....a hardware store and a restaurant for dinner and drinks....awkward!
Speaking of hardware stores...We needed to go find some electrical tape to fix my computer cord. We went to several stores...all of which led us to other stores....until finally one pointed out a hardware store several blocks away. We began walking until my friend, once again, decided we were lost. Luckily for us, someone came by...actually lots of people came by...any of which looked like they'd be happy to give us directions. However, my friend decide to only ask one. This one was the dreadlocked, dirty, tattered man, carrying a garbage bag of cans and refuse, who was talking out loud long before we ever asked him a question. Amazingly for us he knew where to get some electrical tape...just up the street and then a left...down the long dark unmarked alley. He began leading us this way and I could tell even my friend was leery....however...he slowly proceeded until the man stopped to pound on a random solid door in the middle of a long metal fence. There were no signs or windows...no ads saying Electric Tape 'R Us....nothing to indicate we would receive anything in this establishment other than our worst nightmare...so...we left, thanking the man as we darted back to the street never looking back.
The Brazilians are a hard working people...except after lunch, when we went everyday and played foozball and for an hour. My skills improved tremendously over the week and I even played on a team with the Sao Paulo regional foozball champion.....
I was scolded by my friend for closing his car door too hard....repeatedly
I have heard Portuguese covers of the following songs:
My Heart Will Go On
Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden.....maybe the most obscure song to cover ever.
In the end....I really shouldn't complain at all. After all...I did spend the other night sitting in 90 degree weather, eating chicken pieces individually wrapped in bacon, watching Brazil defeat Italy in Soccer, listening to Samba music. Not too bad for a week of work.
I'll see everyone soon.
Like most Americans, I enjoy going out to eat. I love being able to sit at booth (always a booth. For some reason I'm not a big fan of tables. Just thought I'd throw that fact out there), sip a cold beverage, and be waited on hand and foot. I make sure that when my waiter or waitress comes around to take my order, I am both courteous and respectful. I've been a waitress before, so I know what it's like to have rude customers. That's how a person can end up with weird things in their food...so I've heard.
