and thus I am adapted

** there are lots of pix below, sorry though for the screwed-up order of them - blame Blogger **

Yeah, I disappeared...e daí? (so what?) I've been busy abrasileirando-me. It's been an interesting month. I went to Rio with the exchange students in the beginning of April, and I'll be going to Florianópolis, a city in the south, where there are 2 students at NYU (Laura and Jimmy) studying at the Federal University there. Unfortunately, Laura was going to be able to put me up, but there's some drama with the building's landlady, so I currently have no where to stay - I'm possibly thinking in cancelling and going to a city in the interior of Minas where I have a friend, but I should take advantage of the fact that I already bought the ticket, and that I miss travelling alone. As you can imagine, traveling with 12 other students and staying in a hostel in Rio can be a bit difficult at times.
The first night, I went to a soccer game at the Maracanã stadium. I never saw people set off fireworks in a stadium, but aside from that, it didn't seem too unexpected or crazy. It might have felt that way since I was among a group of foreigners, and we were surrounded with people from this one company named something like "Don't be a gringo!" Still, in front and behind me were some actual real live Brasilians (no shit!) and hearing the kids launch all kinds of curses at the field was kinda funny. Sure, our kids do it too, but hearing kids curse curses that you learned as a sort of essentialization of the banalities of Portuguese is different. Vai tomar no cú! was a standard (take it in the ass!) - when I got back to the hostel, Roberta, the girl who was working there, and who now has transferred to work at a hostel in Bahia, told me someone told her they heard a kid say Vai tomar no cú até sair feijão! - Take it in the ass until beans come out! I use that with some of my friends now. Quaint, huh?
We went on the trolley that goes through Santa Tereza, a neighborhood full of beautiful houses, and also makes certain routes that provide wonderful views of the valley. That felt typcially Brazilian - it was completely full when we went there, and so maybe 3 of us (not me for long, since I'm kinda of a wussy), were hanging on the outside, along with 30 other people, aside from the 40 or 50 people seated within the trolley. Certain stretches of the ride had no railings or anything on the bridge/overpass - it definitely makes the Brazilians more agile. I also remember seeing here in Belo Horizonte, a kid hop on the backend of the bus I was on, and put his arm in the door to hold on, while staying on the outside, and he rode for about 10 blocks, sneaking inside when the bus would stop so the change-man (who looks back to make sure everyone's gotten off and then tells the driver to close the doors) wouldn't see him. I couldn't stop smiling when I saw that, but noone else seemed especially amused nor pissed. The Brazilian, I'm told, is accustomed to being passive, and that's why even amidst such grave social disparities and governmental corruption, popular mobiliziation is minimal. Brazilians have been told that they shouldn't complain, and that Brazil is tranquil, with samba, and beautiful women, and beautiful beaches, so just chill - ever since the colonial period - this is what a friend in History tells me. I'll return to protest later.
We went to Copacabana beach that first day, and I surely proceeded to burn myself, as I put on SPF 15 only, and then laid about 2 hours on both sides - thankfully mostly on my stomach, so my back is what got roasted. Walking around shirtless in the hostel for the next few days was a trip, as everyone felt my pain on seeing me, especially the other whities from say, Australia, the US, the UK. I got some blisters on my shoulder, and Lucas, my friend I made from Araxá, in the interior of Minas, who was staying at the hostel, went with me to buy a cream to help them heal. By the end of our stay there (about 5 days), they had almost all healed.
I walked around the Lapa neighborhood alot, and on Saturday, it was just with Claudia, my friend from Argentina, who last week was among the group of people with whom I went to a gay club here in BH. Lapa is full of 1800's buildings, and quite beautiful. Claudia and I found a spectacular street fair full of antiques and retro things. One man passing by a stand was a casting agent, and gave me his card, thinking I'd be a good actor, so if I ever find myself in Rio again, and with the intention to get into acting, I have who to call. I think he gave a card to Claudia too.
Of course, we saw the Cristo Redentor (Christ Redeemer) on Corcovado Hill - see the correlating pictures..
One day we were all together, we went to a pizzaria, and summarily got sickened by the tomato-sauce-less pizza. Apparently, the base of pizzas here is just cheese, not sauce and cheese as we Americans, and also my Italiana friends, are used to. Benoit, from France, is a bit lactose-intolerant, so he asked for a certain pizza (chicken and mushroom, I think), and told the waiter he can't eat cheese. Benoit asked, can you make it without cheese? / No, that's how the pizzas are made, but sure, you can take it off with your hand, it's not that much. Bullshit - it must have been a half inch thick of cheese on the entire pizza. So Benoit complained, and the manager agreed to make a special serving of pizza without cheese for him, which was very nice, and Benoit liked his special pizza. As he was still hungry, he went to the nearby McDonalds, where we had all considered going if we hadn't been able to find another restaurant. I ended up wanting to try an apple pie, so I did - it was probably R$2.25, about $1, for aone pie (for Brazilians, it's quite expensive, whereas for us Americans, it's the cheapest of the dreck). It tasted just about the same, and a few days ago, when I mentioned my having bought an apple pie, the person I was talking to recoiled, considering it kinda slimy. But I liked it. :)
Near that McDonalds (yes we're still in Rio), I bought a Charlie Chaplin-type straw hat, from an Uruguayan artisan, for R$10. After that, we went to the Museu da República, where a large part of the exhibits are devoted to former president Getúlio Vargas, who was almost a cult figure in the 40s and 50s. He committed suicide, and the gun he used, the shirt he was wearing, and even the bullet that found itself in his body, are on display. The building itself was formerly the Presidential Residence, until Rio ceased to be the capital in 1960 (giving way to Brasília), so the room he slept in is there too. IT was a bit eerie. My camera was dying, so I only managed to take one picture of the shirt and gun.
Orlando and Alan, who I had befriended here in UFMG, as they were working for Itaú, a credit card company, selling student cards, visited me in the hostel - they had wanted to travel, so they decided to come to Rio and stay in the exact same hostel where I was staying (with my help telling them where it was, and that iwas cheap of course - this wasn't exactly a surprise. Nevertheless, it was quite refreshing to wake up Friday morning and see them in the living room of the hostel. Story behind them: a few weeks earlier, I was in UFMG, and with Leandro, a friend of a friend- this was the first night I'd met him. The boys stopped him in the Letras cantina, and I was sticking around cuz I had nothing better to do, and I wanted to continue to be around cute boys. Alan, Leandro, and myself went outside, continuing the conversation. Alan said that if Leandro filled out a form (they have a certain quota of forms to get filled, even if someone doesn't want a card), he could kiss their friend, Wiverson, who was sitting at the table. Leandro, who was becoming late for some dance class I think, eventually ceded way once Alan invited Wiverson outside. The two of them went up a staircase to a nook outside the building, and invited me, so I figured I'd go along. At that moment, Orlando, who had also been sitting at the table, and also works for Itaú, appeared - until that point, I hadn't really seen him or thought of him much. Leandro and Wiverson started making out, and so did myself and Orlando. Brazil is fun.
Orlando, Alan, and myself, realized that in the hostel, there were some other gay guys, so we created our own little gang of homos. Jack (Jacolino), Luiz, and Lucas were the others. Later that night, we went to Le Boy, apparently the most well-known gay bar in all of Rio, and for good reason. It's just like the club in Queer as Folk, huge, and pulsating to the beat of silly gay electronica and Madonna, etc. (or bate-cabelo as they call it, hairbanger, technically). I met another guy there, Carlos, who lives in Juiz de Fora, a town in Minas about 3 hours from BH, in the direction of Rio. He hasn't returned my messages though. Go figure.
So that's Rio. The bus ride was 7 hours. For Florianópolis, there's a trip from UFMG that's going, for some library sciences conference, but they're going by bus, and I don't think I can handle 20+ hours each way, though I'm sure it'd be an adventure. I'm taking an airplane, with a total flight time of about 2.5 hours, and a cost of R$550 roundtrip ($275), whih I hear is typical. There was an offer going around of GOL giving yo ua flight to Floripa for $50 each way, but it's nowhere to be found on the website. I was going to be accompanied by Mindy, from Wisconsin, but she had trouble buying the ticket with her credit card (as did I, but thankfully, I have an American Express, just about the only card the website accepts that's foreign).
I went out with Orlando about 2 weeks ago, and he was supposed to call me to invite me to a handball game he was playing at, but he never did, and I asked Alan about it, who told me the game wasn't gonna happen. I've called Alan (Orlando's phone is on the fritz), emailed and left Orkut messages for Orlando, but to no avail. Pooey. Also, about a month ago, I went to COnfessionário, a club here in BH, for the birthday of André, one of the guys I met the first time I went out at night in February. There, I met Oziel, who André referred to as, oh, you're taking advantage of the sabor da terra, huh? (Flavor of the earth), just cuz he's quite dark. I thought Oziel was maybe 21, 23, 25 - turns out he's 33. Brazilians conserve themselves well here - I joked with Oziel that it mut rain formaldehyde here. I've been seeing him every once in a while. Still, I'd prefer Orlando get back in touch with me. It helps that he's 19, more my age range, and more my life stage.
Everyone says I speak Portuguese so well, and when they ask how long I've been here - 2 months, I tell them - they are amazed -- and you can speak Portuguese so well? Well, I tell them, I took classes in the US. They have Portuguese classes in the US? Noone thinks that anyone learns Portuguese outside of Brazil, which isnt a totally invalid assumption. I think I'm almost fluent - I often find myself talking faster than I'm thinking, not really realizing that i t happens to be Portuguese the language I'm speaking. Last night, Natália, a friend who studies English at UFMG, invited me to an English phonology class, sayig the the teacher says wrong things sometimes. (She has the right to comment as she went to an English international high school in Saudi Arabia for 4 years.) Heert for heart, cayterpillar for caterpillar, but it wasnt like that. I wasn't able to mess with her like some friends said I might be able to, especially if the teacher were Thaïs, an especially disliked teacher for being so pompous about her English prowess. Still, it was interesting,and at times a bit over my head since they use the International Phonetic Alphabet, which I learned a bit in my one linguistics class at NYU, but still it's all IPA to me. Most of the pronunciation was correct, or at least as correct as Brazilians can speak it with their accent, which I must say, is a cute accent. :)
So that's my life here. I'm putting off writing some papers that I need to do - one for my Criminality class, about the Subculture theory of why crime happens - one for my Political Resistance class on how uprisings in the UK in the 1700s over the price of grain relates to the economic situation - and another on some articles for my Sociology of Education class.
Speaking of Political Resistance, there's a movement at UFMG to try to lower the price of entry into the cafeteria. For me entry is R$2.50, as it is anyone who doesnt have the economically disadvantaged student card (or the poorcard as my friend Vinícius calls it), while for the lowest level it's only $0.75. The movement wants the price for everyone to be $0.75, since eating lunch and dinner at the cafeteria (bandejão) can become expensive once done everyday, and may mean that some have to go hungry, or spend less on other things (like the damn expensive copies that you have to get constantly here). So a group of students decided to jump the turnstiles at the cafeteria, as their pleas for the administration to bargain with them were ignored. Of course, the univ says they offered to bargain, but the students continued being intrasigent (the word used here, which even in english i dont entirely understand). Last Friday, they closed the cafeteria. The posters affixed by the movement say that the univ refused to bargain. Each side says shit about the other side, as usual. The cafeteria was reopened on Tuesday, but the movement is still continuing, trying to get the administration to talk with them about lowering the entrance fee. Wednesday during my afternoon class, there was a truck going around with a loudspeaker, making announcements to rally up students. There have been protests, but they keep happening when I have capoeira at noon. Oh yeah, speaking of which, I went to a berimbau workshop on Sunday - that's the instrument used in capoeira - it looks like an archery bow with a gourd towards the bottom, and you hit it with a stick, while holding a little rock to and away from the wire. So I made one, though with a lot of help from Meque, my teacher, since the workshop actually started Saturday, but I didn't get there since Friday night, I went to Confessionário with all of my gay friends and faghags (including Claudia, as previously mentioned), and we didn't get back to the dorms until 6am. And, no, I didn't pick up any guys. :-P
The berimbau will be an interesting thing to bring back to the States. Probably customs'll think it's a weapon, but other people say that they must be accustomed to tourists coming back from Brazil with strange things. I probably can't bring back a cute boy though.
So I really like this atmosphere of protest at UFMG, though a lot of people are fed up with the political drama nature of it. I'm fed up with the fact that there are so many other things that students could be caring about in society, but neveryheless, the limited timespan of university studies (all over the world) makes students think, oh, I don't have to complain or protest, since I'll be out of here soon, so I'll just accomodate myself to it. Meh. Nevertheless, it's certainly fascinating.
OK it's 3am and my papers are due, like, last week, so I should get to work.


Raquel, during her contortionism show at Confessionário

Thiago (Jimmy) and Raquel, in Pampulha, near the dorms, at a pet store

Chilling at the dorms
Me peeling the pole for my berimbau

Getúlio Vargas' shirt, gun, and bullet of his suicide

On Ipanema Beach during our last night there - we would end up spelling Ipanema with our bodies - Andreas (Greek) has a picture - after having realized that there's no samba in Ipanema, no matter what someone was told

On Ipanema Beach during our last day there

Sambaing with Carla and others at a party at UFMG

Jimmy and Silvio in the dorms before we went to Confessionário

Back: John (from São Paulo), Claudia (Argentinean) , Alan, me, Orlando
Front: Andrea (Argentinean), Luiz, Jack, some Chilean guy

Claudia, me, Florent, Fabien, Benoit (all French), Laura (Italian), Nico (Fr.), Valeria (Uruguayan) at Corcovado

Claudia taking pix at the Cristo

Hmm, take a guess

McDonalds in Lapa

El Misti Hostel - note they do favela tours - how disgusting...

At a jogo in the Maraca stadium

Walking in downtown Rio

Walking in Lapa

The Santa Tereza bonde (trolley)

Below: Getting to Rio, seeing a woman wearing fio dental (buttfloss), and the subway in Rio

Somos os Pet Shop Boys!

A while ago, Raquel, a woman introduced to me by Sandra, my liaison with the university, asked if I'd want to see the Pet Shop Boys here. I told her surely, and she ended up not being able to go, so she sold me her ticket (R$45, the price for students and youth - everyone else pays R$90). Unfortunately, I couldn't find anyone to go with; neither her friends, nor my new queer friends at school. André tried to get some more tickets from a friend of the producer, but to no avail. I offered to sell the ticket to him, since he's apparently passionate about them, much more than I am. He didn't want to go himself, and I almost wasn't going to go myself, but I did.

Going to a concert, in any country, by yourself, is an interesting experience. You get to freely wander through the crowd, and pay more attention to the ambience as well. I was surprised that the average age was about 35, and more than half the crowd was straight. My friends at school love them, and when I learned about the Pet Shop Boys a year or two ago, I thought only gay people listened to them.

Not the Pet Shop Boys, but some other band, in the Arena at Chevrolet Hall -->
http://www.maristahall.com.br/novo/index.asp
(Chevrolet Hall official website)

I'm really quite a party pooper. While I gyrated the whole time, on my mind were some deep thoughts - what it must feel like to perform for a foreign audience. Aside from "Somos os Pet Shop Boys," they spoke in English, and occasionally, there'd be a pause after what they said while everyone processed the words and decided whether to clap, scream, or do nothing. Most people here in the higher echelons have some faculty of English, so there definitely wasn't total miscommunication. Speaking of said crowd, the vast majority of the crowd was very European-ish. Whiter people are richer here, so it makes sense, but the unconscious affinity with white faces (I can't help it) here made me tune in to the emotional vibes, and I became really aware of the fact that people all over the world are really all the same - with the same aspirations, needs, pleasures, etc. I also thought of the role of foreign investment here, as the name of the venue is Chevrolet Hall, and there was a car elevated next to the stage, and Chevrolet insignias scattered about with the slogan "Conte Comigo" (Count On Me).

Now, what I REALLY enjoyed this weekend (the show was nice, but really more of a sociological observation session for me, and occasional boy observation session too, of course), was going to a samba bar last night! Carla, with whom I have two classes, invited me, and she and her friends say I'm now converted to the religion. We went to Bar do Cartola, in memory of a famous male sambista of the same name, in Caiçara, a neighborhood to the NW of the city. It was absolutely fabulous, and any vision you have of Brazilians all sambando together, is totally true. While people don't samba in the streets and women don't walk around with hats of fruit, inside this newly-expanded bar, everyone was having a blast. Here, the men can actually dance, most of them, in contrast with American men who are quite reticent. For me, there was the constant underlying cruising eye, and guys I could have sworn were gay ended up making out with girls. The only thing that happened to me in that realm last night was a man in his 60s who was pretty damn drunk and was dancing near me when I was taking a rest in a chair. I could tell he was trying to meet eyes with me, so I just totally ignored him. I probably should have just not cared about him and danced whenever I wanted to (I forget if I was faking resting at any point), but older gay men still make me somewhat uncomfortable.

We left the bar around 4am, and Carla, her friend Gabriel, and myself went back to her apartment in the Centro. She said it was a pretty crappy apartment, but I felt right at home. With all the strange angles, plastic wire sheaths, washing machine in the kitchen, it felt just like my friend Julia's apartment in the Village. On the 16th floor, she has an incredible view of the Central Station, some plazas, the Santa Tereza Viaduct, and the mountains in the distance. She says the location is wonderful, nothing has ever happened to her in terms of crime, or anyone she knows in the area, but she just doesn't like the apartment itself. She'll be moving to Caiçara in July, to her brother-in-law's apartment, where the rent will already be paid for.

This morning, we went to the Hippie Fair (a craft fair that used to be entirely handmade things, but industrialized items, like Kipling bags, are slowly infiltrating it), passing through the Parque Municipal first. I didn't buy anything aside from some little things to nibble on. I felt, again, right at home; the park is like Belo Horizonte's Central Park, and the fair is very well-organized, and because it rained cats and dogs this morning, it wasn't too packed - I felt like I could have been in a fair in the U.S.

We're going to the Bar do Cartola again on Friday, and then one of the friends I met at that gay club I went to 2 weeks ago is having a birthday party on Saturday. I'm going to look into gay samba bars - I think samba is much more conducive to sensuality than wretched techno music - and I can't wait until I can unabashedly samba again. :)

Oh, men

As can be expected, last week I had two men, and now I have none. I was supposed to meet Vinícius one day and he never showed up, so I thought he was no longer interested in me. Later that day, with friends of his, I met Bruno, and ended up staying at Bruno's that night. Turns out that Vini and Bruno are friends, so for a while, both wanted nothing to do with me, then Bruno did again, and now he doesn't. It's kind of confusing. Singleness can be freeing, but having someone to cuddle with is nice too.
The classes I'm in are the following:

FAFICH - Faculdade de Filosofia e Ciências Sociais (School of Philosophy and Social Sciences)Student Number: 2007550479

Departamento de História (History Department)
HIS031P - Tópicos em História Moderna: Formas de resistência política na Europa, Amêrica Espanhola e Amêrica Portuguesa (Topics in Modern History: Forms of Political Resistence in Europe, Spanish America, and Portuguese America)Friday, 2pm-5:40pm, FAFICH 3044, 4 credits
HIS032K - Transição democrática e Relações Civis-Miltares no Cone Sul (Democratic Transition and Civil-Military Relations in the Southern Cone [of South America])Wednesday, 2pm-5:40pm, FAFICH 3044, 4 credits

Departamento de Ciências Sociais (Social Sciences Department)
SOA071A - Tópicos em Sociologia: Sociologia da Educação (Topics in Sociology: The Sociology of Education)Monday and Wednesday, 9:30am-11:10am, FAFICH 3042, 4 credits
SOA071F - Tópicos em Sociologia: Sociologia da Criminalidade (Topics in Sociology: The Sociology of Criminality)Monday, 7pm-10:40pm, FAFICH 3040, 4 credits (most of the class is conducted on the Internet)


You probably think that it's difficult to comprehend a class entirely in Portuguese. It is. But I'm making my way through it. The teachers I understand, since they take the effort to usually enunciate a little better. When fellow students talk though, most of it usually goes over my head. In the case of the Transition class, for example, we've spent the last 2 weeks talking about sociological theory about the military. It's very abstract to me, and even if I understand all the words, it doesn't always coalesce to a coherent thought in my head; even if it were in English, wouldn't make any sense either. I hear that teachers are usually somewhat lenient with exchange students, and I think my language ability is someone better than most of the other exchange studets, so I'm not really worried.

By now, I've gotten quite comfortable with the university, and with the downtown here (where I shop, and transfer to my second bus to-and-from school). I still feel like everyone looks at me funny, cuz I'm just about the whitest person I ever see, aside from the exchange students who are French or American. I can pretty much get whatever I need done done, but I wouldn't call myself fluent, and certainly not comfortable in every situation. One challenge that makes itself apparent everywhere, is my lack of knowledge of the snacks here. They all look the same; fried balls or pockets, which on the outside give no hint of their contained goodness (such as chicken, ham and cheese, corn, beef, etc.). So I constantly have to say, "Oh, what's in this? Oh, ok. Can I have the triangle-y one? Thanks!" I'm getting better though.

I was in a 1.99 store the other day (our dollar stores, and full of cheap crap from China, of course), and I wanted a can opener, since I recently got a can of tuna with no finger-pull-handle-opener thingy. I saw plenty of kitchen tools, but no can opener. So I asked one of the people working there, if they had can openers. "Ah, I see. But in the U.S., where I'm from, we have this kind of can opener with two arms, and you put it on the can, and turn the handle... / Oh, well you guys are a First World country! You could find something like that in (insert fancy store name here), but not in this store. / But the American stores like this, with cheap stuff, we have that kind of can opener. / Really? (genuine surprise on her part)..."

I didn't get a can opener. But Lara did point out to me these metal things she has that you put on a can rim and wiggle it all around, do the hokey-pokey, and the can opens. Tada! I'll try using it eventually, when I want tuna again.

Speaking of cans, it's damn near impossible to find canned beans here; they're all in bags. I hate cooking beans, so anytime I want beans in the house, it's been imported lentils, or I think once I was able to get some sort of pinto beans. I'm sure I'll have to crumble and cook beans eventually. Usually, I make pasta, with tomato sauce, and cut up pepper and onion and add that too. It's quite filling, quite easy, and probably quite healthy.

And, there's almost never soap in public bathrooms. The water's always cold. And more often than not, there's one toilet paper dispenser above two stalls, to be shared between the two, or what I saw in some bathrooms, the toilet paper is outside the stalls, so you have to go and gather a wad before you go in. It makes sense, and just requires a little more planning, but it is different. And annoying when you poop and don't know how much you're going to need.

Returning to feeling comfortable with the university, I've met so many gay guys, it's kind of scary. I hear there's no official gay group, so people just kind of informally meet, and really that's how it works! If you go to any neutral hangout area, be it grass, a Diretoria Acadêmica (basically a student lounge), or benches - an area with no explicit purpose to be there except just to be - you will find gay guys and their faghags, and the requisite lesbians as well. It makes sense, but it just seems so much more explicit here to me. Maybe the society is less accepting, or what's most likely the case is that it's just a different society and I'm still not quite capable of interpreting all the attitudes that people have. The fact that just about everyone of the gay guys I've met here greets and says good bye with a kiss on the cheek (with guys), certainly indicates a different norm here. I like it, of course.

Sunday, the Pet Shop Boys are playing here. I may buy a ticket from a friend if I can meet up with other friends of hers that are going; I don't want to go myself.

According to a 12-step guide to studying abroad, missing home starts at a certain time. I think I kinda miss New York about now. But I'm looking forward to meeting more Brazilian hotties enough that the homesickness isn't taking too much of a toll on me. I buy boxes of assorted chocolates from time to time (like I did yesterday) to establish the continuity of orgasmic chocolate in my life here. I ate 4 already today, I think; I better stop.

And for all of you curious critters out there, the time difference is now only one hour ahead of Eastern Time now, since we here in Brazil stopped Daylight Savings Time, and you Americans just started.

A whirlwind week

The past week was full of events, making it so that I never really had time to stop and write things down.
Tuesday evening, I met Sandra, my liaison at UFMG through the scholarship program between the US and Brazil. We spoke about what I'll be studying, and she took me to the nearby shopping center so I could buy itty-bitty photos of myself for my student card and my Federal Police registration.
Wednesday was the first day of the international student orientation, and I must say it was fascinating. Being, for once, totally out of the mainstream of the student body is truly eye-opening, though it gets tiring. Also, it was like the UN was meeting everytime we were together, since the French, British, Italian, Cabo Verdeans, and Argentinians would talk in their own language or dialect with themselves, but when we were all together, there was a broken Portuguese with bits of all the other languages in effect. Also, from day one, I was complimented for my Portuguese; really, most of the kids who come here came expecting to learn Portuguese throughout the course of their stay here. Alot only spent a month studying it, and that really doesn't give you much to stand on in everyday life here, no matter how close Portuguese may be to French, Italian, or Spanish.
Thursday, I met Cristina Campolini, the head of the History department, to plan some of my classes, and we ended up talking about gay life in BH. She drove me home, picking up her boyfriend on the way, a man 24 years her junior (she's 55, he's 31). She's quite a character. I have a picture of her I'll post. I ended up enrolling in Forms of Political Resistance in the Americas and Transition to Democracy in the Cone Sul (Southern part of South America). Later that night, I met up with some of the other exchange students in Savassi, the chic part of town, and we went to a restaurant, sat at a long table for 18, and drank caipirinha all night. I had maybe a 1/5 of a glass and already felt a bit tipsy, so I stopped, incurring the wonderment and almost-frustration of those around me. Caipirinha really is the drink of choice by, well, just about everyone here, Brazilian or not -- it's impressive how noone escapes its allure.
Friday, that Political Resistance class met at 2pm, but I stayed with our program, at the Centro Esportivo Universitário (CEU, which means Sky), which was chilling at the pool, a free lunch, and then a samba and capoeira lesson. One of the instructors, Wesley, and I, had a long conversation, in Portuguese, about love and other abstract things. He's pretty. They'll be leading capoeira classes for beginners starting soon, and I'm going to join.
Speaking of pretty, I also met Juan, who's Argentinian, and Friday night, I took him to Match, an improvisation show that friends at UFMG are doing for 2 weekends - the audience chooses the topics, and 2 teams have 30 seconds to plan improv skits. We both really liked it, and I invited him to stay at my house since it's nearby, but he wanted to go home.
The next day, Saturday, yesterday, I bought a new cellphone, one that actually vibrates. Next, all of us exchange students arranged to meet at the CEU at 2pm, and I went swimming a bit, with the perfunctory total slathering of sunscreen so I don't roast. There was a birthday party for someone at the university housing at 10pm, and I decided to just stay in the area instead of go back to my house. I talked with Juan for a long while in his dorm about democracy, American and Argentinian and Brazilian culture, and our personal stories. He's so nice to me, and seems to really like me, but I think I'm pretty sure he's straight. Those kinds of nice straight people confuse me.
That doesn't really matter since later that night, Juan had left the party, and I left my bag in his room, and it ends up he basically passed out. So I wasn't able to get my bag, or get into his room to sleep in the extra bed there, so I just hung around the party, completely chateado (pissed bored), watching all of the drunk people (drunks are the same here; they make asses of themselves in any language) completely crowding the suite, and the lights went from dim to off throughout the night, so it really was not my kind of scene. At that party, I hadn't drank a drop of alcohol, only juice and Coke. Cláudia, Argentinian and a faghag, introduced a guy, Júlio, to me, having danced with him and figured him gay, so for the next hour after Juan disappeared, I mostly kept an eye out for him, trying to get into the right atmosphere to come on to him. A guy suggested he has a boyfriend, so that got my hopes down a bit. In the hall though, finally around 3am, I was talking with Júlio and friends of his, and followed them to their dorm, going from building 7 to building 4, and lo and behold, their suite felt to me like a gay colony. Four of them, friends, and all gay, live there. Soon after I entered, André, Adriano, Vinícius, roped me into a conversation on Madonna, who they view as their holy mother. They put on some of her music, and André and Adriano started vogueing. The gay scene here is about 15 years behind the American one apparently. They were in awe of me being from New York, but equally flabbergasted that I do not view Madonna as holy in my eyes. I have nothing against her, and I like her music, but I'm not in love with it like they are.
Eventually, I started making out with Vinícius, (Júlio is dating someone), and didn't leave his room until 9 hours and 2 showers later.
I know, TMI. Good. I disgusted you. :)
I ate a little breakfast with Vinícius and his roommates, and then they went to the computer lab in the hall, so I was watching the amazement of internet talk in Portuguese for a long while. I was a bit preoccupied with ringing Juan's doorbell before he might go out or do anything for the day, so that I could get my bag, and say goodbye to him for the time being, and finally around 1pm I went over, and he was perfectly awake, though with a bit of a ressaca (hangover). We said tchau until the next weekend when us intercambistas (exchange students) will probably reunite again at the pool, and I returned to Vinícius and Adriano on the computer. The two of them and their friend Valesca and myself, we went to a supermarket, about a 20 minute walk away, to buy food for lunch. André did most of the cooking, yielding us spaghetti with ground beef, sauce, onion, peppers, and garlic, with caipirinha as the beverage. A bag of maybe 10 limes to make them was something like R$0.10 - 5 US cents. Amazing. Food here is much cheaper, but technology is much more expensive.
I was talking with them and some other people, including Carô, a lesbian who sang with my host Lara in the UFMG choir, and Keili, 31-years-old, studying law but not at UFMG, and who still hangs out in the dorms since she's had UFMG friends forever. We all talked about what I'm studying, leading invariably into the conversation on inequality in Brazil, the frailty of the school system and how the people are stuck in a vicious cycle of being too uneducated to know to vote for politicians who will make the education better.
I invited Vinícius over, but he has class at 7:30 tomorrow morning, so we're going to meet up Tuesday at the school. I got home around 8pm, and learned on email that my grandma passed away Saturday night. I was mute for while, but reconciled things, knowing that she's been in a sort of daze for a year and a half, not in pain, but just sort of without any marbles in her head. I've also reconciled not flying in for any memorial services, since (a) I was never extraordinarily close with her, (b) I saw her in September at a family wedding, and called her on the phone before I left for Brazil, so I'd like to leave my last remembrances of her as her being alive, not dead, and (c) of course, flying back would be so incredibly difficult, financially and logistically, as classes start this week.
On the flip side, my mom finally managed to go to a library and email me, which left me equally speechless. And, a very well-written email at that.
It's been a hell of a week. I feel quite well-adjusted now, but there's still so much more to come.
Tomorrow, I meet with the Human Sciences office to discuss classes in politics and economics. There's the Sociology of Criminality, which I've heard rave reviews about the professor, that I will try to take. I hope I can get a spot in it.
Until later!

Finally, a gay bar....and a..table

Friday, I went shopping on Rua dos Caetés, getting socks, shorts, and a laundry bag. Lara and I then started our search for a table for my room, which we got for R$100, about $45. Now my room at least has a table to go along with the bed. The armoire is quite spacious, so I'm not wanting for space to put things; a big room needs furniture though; you'll see in pictures eventually.

This table fits in a corner and has a rounded perimeter (think a quarter of a circle); it was quite a good deal, seeing as all the furniture here, even in the used furnitures shops, is quite expensive. I really don't know how people furnish their houses - it just further reinforces the fact that the class disparity here is quite large. Everyone lives in their own little world, behind gates, and I haven't seen more than one instance of people outside, conversing with neighbors. There's no such thing as a streetfront stoop for someone to sit on, since literally every residence is behind gates.

Perhaps in the favela, there are, but that's the favela. It's a different culture here.

Friday night, I went to Andaluz, a gay bar in Santo Antonio, Rua Congonhas, 487, with a friend of Natália and his friends. Gay guys here are the same as they are in the US; they dress in fitted clothes, move the same way, though I've learned that the American lisp which we associate with gay guys isn't an indicator here in Brazil. I only had a 1/4 glass of caipirinha, and a bottle of water. One of the guy's friends was trying to teach me how to dance, thinking I couldn't move my hips. That may have been true...still, it just takes me a while to loosen up. I didn't pick anyone up that night, but Natália's friend did. Still, I met several cool guys, and got a taste of the gay scene here, which I hear is quite ample.

Here's the bar's website: http://www.andaluzbarcasa.com.br/site/

Saturday, Lara and I went to her parent's house, where I had a long conversation with her mom about the social disparity here, and how to haggle at a street fair, as well as how to dress so that I don't get victimized by a criminal: simply, and stay close to the soldiers of the Policia Militar.
She affirms that so many people here can't find jobs, even with a college degree. This problem has been lamented time and again in the Brazilian press, and the government could probably do a better job of helping. Everyone pays absurd taxes, and the politicians steal a good chunk of the money, so nothing ever really gets done by the government. Sure there are almost 200 million people here, but with taxes as high as I hear they are, the pols could certainly do more.

Lara's father, who came from Japan in 1967, looking for work, I believe, is an agronomist by career, but also a violinist. He learned some Hebrew too, from a Brazilian Jewish friend, so he was showing me his textbook which he mostly used 10 years ago, and playing some Jewish song CDs. His English isn't too bad, either. His Portuguese has a hint of a Japanese accent, as can be expected. It's like a regular U.N. in that house.

Today I've been in all day, my stomach's been acting up a little. Maybe it's the water, though I've been drinking from the filter; apparently, in the whole of Brazil, tap water's not safe to drink, according to Lara's mom. With all the different foods I'm eating, I'm sure I've been exposed to different bacteria and microorganisms here.

Tuesday, I meet Sandra, my university liaison in the exchange program, and Wednesday, programming for the Semana do Aluno Estrangeiro (Foreign Student Week) starts. At that point, I pick my classes. Apparently, some classes may very well begin tomorrow (Monday), but I can't really do anything about it; I'll have to wait until registration is opened up to us during this programming to choose. I hope the classes I want, or similar ones, are happening this semester, and open. (I'm looking to take stuff around politics and economics of Brazil, basically an academification of my observations of the socioeconomic situation here.)

Compras (Shopping)

No sentido ao trabalho, a Lara me levou até o Savassi, onde tem muita gente mais bonita, como ela falou, e lojas e informações turísticas pra mim. Ela tinha verdade - o Shopping 5ª Avenida é bem legal, com lojas de roupa, eletrônicas, livros e comida. Ao entrar, de repente fui para uma loja com camisas belohorizontinas, e tagarelava muito com a Marly Moreira, vendedora nela. Tem muita camisa com letra em inglês, mas é inglês errado! «Exploring the Nature» Talvez eu devesse comprá-la. Comi no All Face, um self-service por R$11,23 - salada, arroz e feijão, peixe frito, e mais. Fui a uma papeleria que tinha maioritariamente coisas femininas, mas falava com as moças trabalhando nela sobre o aprendizagem das linguas, e como a lingua mais estudada na secundária mudou do inglês para o espanhol faz uns 20 anos.


Depois disso, fui à livraria Leitura, e comprei mapas do BH, e do MG, e também cadernos, canetas, canetas de marca-texto, e um livrinho das rotas dos ônibus, descritas pelas esquinas nos quais viram. Fui à Praça da Liberdade, onde tem a rota 5102, o qual eu posso pegar pra ir prà UFMG. Também experimentei o Museu Mineiro, um pouco chato porque eu não gosto tanto do arte do período barroco, mas deu pra praticar meu português com as legendas, e o homen de vigia que sabia algumas coisas acerca das coleções.


Voltei na direção do apartamento, parando pra comprar comida, Cotonete, e razores de barbear, num Carrefour na Avda. Albuquerque, e voltei pra casa, ainda se levou muito tempo por causa das porradas dos morros e os pesos nas mãos.


Fico muito feliz com este dia bem produtivo!



(Foto: Palácio da Liberdade)

On her way to work, Lara dropped me off in Savassi, the neighborhood of beautiful people, as she said, and also stores and tourist info for me. She was right - Fifth Avenue Shopping is quite cool, with clothing stores, electronics, books, and food. On entering, I immediately gravitated to a store with Belo Horizonte shirts, and I chatted for a while with Marly Moreira, the saleswoman there. There were a lot of shirts with English on them, but bad English! «Exploring the Anture» Maybe I should've bought it. I ate at All Face, a buffet for 11.23 reais, about $5 - salad, rice and beans, fried fish, and more.

I went to a stationery store that had mostly girly things, but I spoke with the girls who worked there, about language classes in high school, and how Spanish has become the most commonly studied language, instead of English, in the last 20 years.

After all that, I went to the Leitura bookstore and got maps of Belo Horizonte, Minas Gerais, notebooks, pens, and highlights for school, and a booklet of the bus routes, described by where they make turns. I saw the stop for the 5102 in the Praça da Liberdade, the bus I'll be getting to go to UFMG. I also checked out the Mineiro Museum, a little dull since I don't really like Baroque-era things, but I was able to practice my portuguese with the captions, and the security guy who knew a bit about the collections. I went back to the apartment, first stopping to buy food, Q-tips, and shaving razors in a Carrefour on Albuquerque Avenue. I got back home, but it took a while because of the fucking hills and all the weight in my hands.

I'm quite happy having had such a productive day!

Achei gente bacana hoje... (I met cool people today...)

Da manhã, a gente foi para o sitio da Ana, uma amiga da Lara. Ela tem um balneario na Lagoa Santa, a uma hora do Belo - vai pra lá os finais de semana. Lá tem piscina, e trouxe a minha sunga. Encontrei a Ana e seu namorado Fideles, Luciana e seu namorado Iván, Cibele (profissora de inglês), Fernanda (propagandista, que passei um semestre da secundária no Oklahoma), e o Michel, que acabou a relação com a sua mulher a sexta passada. Michel é bem interessante; foi para os Estados Unidos, na Califórnia, e morava lá acho um ano. Passou algum tempo como entregador de pizza, e gostaria de voltar pra estudar o cinema quando tiver o dinheiro suficiente.
A gente nadou, comeu, e bebeu. Eu só bebi um meio copo de caipirinha; fiquei muito tempo bebendo a Guaraná pra não ficar bêbado. Ficamos lá desde as 2 até as 10 da noite.
Assisti o baile Gay no Carnaval carioca com Lara - é cheio de transvestis (homens com peitos de silicone) - não sei se deveria ser ofendido ou entretido.

This morning, we went to Ana's place, a friend of Lara. She has a weekend house in Lagoa Santa, one hour from Belo. There's a pool there, and I brought my bathing suit. I met Ana and her boyfriend Fideles, Luciana and her boyfriend Iván, Cibele (an English teacher), Fernanda (publicist, who spent a semester in Oklahoma), and Michel, who just broke up with his girlfriend on Friday. He's pretty interesting; he went to California, and spent a year or so there. He was a pizza delivery boy for a while, and he'd like to come back and study film when he has the money.
We swam, ate, and drank. I only drank a half cup of caipirinha, drinking Guaraná (a carbonated fruit drink, kind of like starfruit) so as to not get drunk. We were there from 2 to 10 at night.
I watched some of the Gay festivities in the Rio de Janeiro Carnaval on TV, with Lara. It's full of transvestites, which mainly means guys with tits. I'm not sure whether to be offended or amused.