A
Day in Porto Alegre
January 9, 2005
11:30
My body simply will not get out of bed. But this isn't a physical response
— I got 9 hours of sleep last night. The choking culture shock weighs
me down like a fat man with a hangover: It's tough to take deep breaths.
12:15 After a quick shower and glance at the clock (and
no, it did not escape me that I woke up a full 4 hours after a normal
person — I'm on sabbatical, kids), I toss on some loose-fitting
clothes and head to the end of the block. Turning the corner, I pass a
Pirelli maintenance shop and glance over my shoulder for any approaching
buses. There's a red bus coming, but they're slightly more expensive,
at R$ 2.10 per ride. (That works out to about 80 cents.) The real problem
with these red buses is that I actually have to TELL the bus driver where
to stop, which is outside of my current lexicon. So, I wait a few minutes
and and flag down a normal, cheaper (R$ 1.55) white bus with an “Ar
Condicionado” placard. As it's 93 degrees outside today, this is
clearly a bonus.
12:45 After the 15-minute bus ride and another 15-minute
walk through the local mall and surrounding neighborhood (keeping my wallet
zipped in my pocket even though it's a nice neighborhood – thieves
are lookin' for American blood), I arrive at the gate to my aunt's apartment
building. It's like many apartment buildings in Porto Alegre, beige in
color, with about 4 levels and a simple door-on-the-outside elevator.
The gate is magically opened by the gate operator, to whom I give my customary
“boa tarde” and a thumbs-up before heading up to the third-floor
apartment. My tia Nati answers the rap on the door with a steamy kitchen
reeking of black beans, rice, and some sort of chicken dish. It smells
great. Turning through to the living room, I see that my cousins Alessandra
and Virginia are already there, lounging on the sofa in front of the TV,
watching an old Friends episode blaring away in English on "The
Warner Channel." This little bit of the States is enough to release
the culture shock choke hold for 30 minutes, but it makes me queasy to
think that a TV show has calmed me down.
1:00 Lunch is served. All of the aforementioned plus
some simple salad and Coca Light or guarana to drink. Most sit at the
table, but a few of us break off to watch The O.C.
2:00 With lunch resting nicely in my belly, and the cousins
off to work again — after their customary 2-hour lunch, my aunt
and I settle in for a long summer's nap on the sofas with fold-out armrests
that double as pillow rests. Dawson's Creek is on. And yes, again,
it's in English. I manage to survive about 40 minutes of their all-too-adult
banter and doze off.
3:30 The best part of the day: I move into my cousin
Tiago's room to use the internet. Their ADSL connection pumps out a good
300 Kbps, easily affording me the opportunity to catch up on all things
Minnesota and say what up to Kevan and Sabrina back home. When I have
access to the internet, all is right with the world.
6:00 Tiago's home, and I realize now that I've been on
the internet for three hours. Yikes. I finish what I have to do and pack
up my stuff. The sun is setting, and it's hot in this small room.
6:15 Retracing my steps from earlier in the day, I head
back through the shopping mall (malls here are just called “shoppings”),
and wait with all the work-wearied folk at the bus stop. A bus comes in
less than 2 minutes.
9:00 Safely back at home, lying on the sofa with a book
in hand, the hunger bug hits again. A quick trip to the refrigerator yields
little — I scrounge together a sandwich with some runny mustard
and salami. Toss a couple leaves of iceberg lettuce in a bowl with some
olive oil and vinegar and I'm set. Dinner is served.
10:00 Satiated (not really, but enough) and exhausted
from my day doing nothing, I retire to my air-conditioned quarto, this
time with my laptop. I turn the iPod — hooked up to my rad speaks
— on to some Prince. The bedspread itches the hair on the back of
my neck, but I manage to find a decent position and settle in, updating
my expenses for the last few days in my budget.
2:00 AM Done messing around with spreadsheets and stuff,
I doze off. The “Snooze 2Nite” mix is on the iPod, tapering
off with a Tim Keller sermon on “Love and the Practical Graces.”
I doze, trying to let Tim convince me to be more productive with my many
blessings tomorrow.
All in all, a pretty normal day: hot and dry. The sun is blazing here
in January, and though we have room air conditioners, it's not too economical
to have them running all the time. Passing back-and-forth through sun-baked
rooms and mildewy air-conditioned ones does nothing to help my weary culture-shocked
body, but I'm hopeful the weight will be lifted in a month or two. We'll
see.
Carl
Winter is a Taiwan-born Brazilian/American dual-citizen, living in Brazil
for the first time at the age of 27. The posted stories, pictures, digit$ and flix are meant to give an indication of the daily fabric of Brazil —
from an outsider's inside perspective.
If you are planning a trip to Brazil, or just want to say hi, email him
here.
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