Savoring Sao Paulo

Oh my gosh—I can’t believe it’s only been about 48 hours since my previous blog post! It kind of feels like I’ve been in Sao Paulo for a lifetime, and India feels years away. Before I even get into my incredible day and a half that I’ve had in Sao Paulo, I’d love to echo a sentiment that my new homestay partner, Samantha, made about being in Brazil after India. She commented that our time here (even though it’s been short thus far) has already begun to color her recollection of India and how she perceives her experiences in Ahmedabad.

I couldn’t agree more.

It seems that all of us have already begun to compare, to relate back, and to compartmentalize; half of our sentences begin with, “well, in India,” or “remember how in India?” I can’t decide if this is good or bad. I think drawing comparisons can be helpful in contextualizing perceptions, and it’s nice to share our common experiences and build on them, but what does it mean for my recollection of India if I talk about how much more I love the humidity and lushness here in comparison to the dryness and dustiness of Ahmedabad, or if I relish the paved sidewalks and convenience of non-bucket showers? I have barely been afforded the time to sift through and cement my impressions of India, and I am already forming new memories and putting them into direct competition with those of the last month. Seems kind of unfair, kind of dangerous—but also really exciting.

BUT ANYWAYS—that’s enough seriousness for now. Great news—I have the internet for GIF’s again!!!

I know!! Way less of my boring words, way more laughs and visuals.

Picking up from where my last blog left off. We left the hotel around 12 PM to get our first full Brazilian lunch. And oh my god—it was unreal.

Beef, salads, sushi (SUSHI!!!) all arranged in a beautiful buffet. The plate was weighed in order to assign a price, and we paid at the end of the meal. It was freaking amazing. We also had a quick orientation to the program and were told our homestay partners, which was v exciting. On our walk back, I embraced the humidity and heat and green of the city like I was in paradise.

#praise

I had missed plants and nature so much, and while I wasn’t really expecting it, foliage encroaches every street in Sao Paulo. I guess that could be the rainforest influence, right? But I’m not questioning it, I’m just savoring it.

me every other second

Samantha (my homestay partner) and I were picked up from the hotel with our bags by our new homestay mom. I don’t want to say I packed a lot, but this might be an accurate portrayal of my packing habits.

Woops. I just have a lot of baggage, okay?

I loved (loved) chatting with my home stay mom, Maria, on our drive to our new home. She pointed out numerous shops, pubs, and theaters along the ride, giving tips about places to go and eat. In one of those moments of what may be an unfair comparison to my Indian experience, I realized how beneficial it is to have a local with whom you can communicate about the city. I definitely felt close in a way to Shamim, my Indian host mom, but it makes me sad that I missed out on the fulfilment of experiencing Ahmedabad with someone who actually knew the place. (But I don’t think any family will ever compare to the OG [aka original] home stay fam—hollah @ the Morrises!!)

Our apartment sits at the top of a small hill, surrounded by other tall buildings and the quaint villa of Sally’s home stay family. (!!!yay!) Our host mom led us to the top floor (omg) of the 18-story building (OMG) with literally the. most. stellar view.

LOOK!!!!

WOW. WOW. I feel like an urban Rapunzel, or some romantic-tragic figure in a city-set drama.

literally how I picture myself

I’m living in a penthouse overlooking the largest city of the Southern Hemisphere. I think that the unbelievable view alone has made me reconsider my absolute refusal to ever live in a city. I sat on the windowsill for like thirty minutes, just staring out into the sunset wistfully and picturing my next *candid* Insta pic from that very spot.

Now, about my family!!! Our mom, Maria, is kind, open, honest, and very motherly. She has three kids: Luigi, a son whom we have not yet met; Lara, a daughter who is currently travelling in Australia and will return in a few weeks; and Liza, a fun, frank, and compassionate mom of a six-month old, Maria!!! The daughter is unbelievably adorable, and I’ve taken ample time to play with her and hold her and make her smile. She’s so cute and well-natured, ugh so much love. There is also another foreign exchange “host brother” in the house named Fumito; he’s a businessman from Japan with whom we’ve had some pretty cool conversations about our travels.

After an unreal dinner of chicken-rice soup (of which I had like four bowls while everyone else had one), chicken with bell peppers, avocado (yes, I cried), pumpkin, rice and beans, etc. etc…. I loved it a ton. The meal felt much more reminiscent of my meals back home, more familiar in its spices and consistency and makeup. In all honesty, I never ate Indian food in the US; it was not really my favorite kind of food. I savored the tastes while I was in India, and there’s also just something really cool and satisfying about eating a region’s food while you’re actually there, but I definitely stuff myself with Brazilian food, whereas I tentatively and delicately ate last month.

me in India

me in Brazil

After dinner, Sam and I figured it was the appropriate time to breathlessly ask for the WiFi password. WIFI AT HOME, what a concept!!! After a month of momentary stolen glances at Facebook and Snapchat, I’m reentering popular culture like,

damn Daniel? white vans? what???

I was indulging myself with the wonders of the Internet when all of a sudden, a commotion arose outside the window. Samantha, Fumito, and I looked at each other inquisitively, then opened the living room window. Numerous neighbors were hanging out of the windows, banging pots of pans, flickering their lights, shouting aggressively in Portuguese. Honks reverberated from the streets, fireworks went off from below, and the flashing of lights could be seen in buildings miles away.

We stood there for five minutes, wondering if it a soccer game had been won, or if a spontaneous protest had taken place, when all of a sudden our host sister Liza abruptly came to the window and, with a brisk “excuse me,” began banging two pot lids.

Shocked, we asked her what was happening. “Our president is speaking,” she responded primly, “we don’t like her.”

OH MY GOD. OH. MY GOD. I felt my arm hairs stand on end, I got the chills, I felt almost giddy. HOW FREAKING COOL is this method of social protest!!!!!!!??????? It felt so communal, so metaphorical and symbolic, and so peaceful a way of expressing distaste. I don’t know exactly why it so titillated my passion for politics, but something about it absolutely enthralled me. Today, we learned that it is specifically called a “Panellasou,” or a “cooking pot fest,” and it has problematic origins, but for some reason, I found myself astounded. It must have lasted for about ten full minutes, and I sat mesmerized in front of the window for its entirety. Fascinating.

My sleep was sort of interrupted by the steamy heat of our bedroom (no fan or AC) and my disruptive jet lag, so Samantha and I woke up pretty early to go for a jog.

Ahhhh, jogging. I missed you so.

FIRST, though, we ate literally my dream breakfast (sorry I keep talking about food, I’m just in love with eating). We ate bread, fresh fruit, and coffee cake with copious amounts of coffee. Like ya, okay, twist my arm. We then met our neighbor, who will hopefully reappear in future blog posts, if ya catch my drift.

We took the elevator downstairs and found that in order to exit the complex, we had to get through this legitimately impenetrable gate. We wandered to a little guard hut and asked (in English) how to get out. He looked at us kind of pathetically and shook his head.

“Espanol!!??” we asked excitedly. “Un poquito,” he said hesitantly. Samantha and I then looked at each other, waiting for the other to whip out some Spanish knowledge.

“Como…” Samantha began, and all of a sudden, this super athletic beautiful woman came up and asked, “Need some help?’

She conversed with the guard and he buzzed us out, and we thanked our first guardian angel of the day.

We decided to run for about eight minutes then just turn back the way we had come after that time. Only problem—we took a few too many twists and turns, and when my alarm signaled our halfway mark, we kind of stood there like—

Ummmm…. Woops.

We started to wander in the general direction in which we thought our apartment was, and, after about thirty minutes of strolling through delightfully artsy streets filled with quaint and stylish shops and restaurants, WE FOUND OUR STREET.

I won’t say I was worried, but like….

It was good to be back.

We got ready pretty hurriedly, because we were meeting Sally and Maria for a visit to a museum. Unfortunately, time slipped away from us, and we ended up not having time to go before class (Strike 1). BUT I did get to meet a few dogs and play fetch, so that made my day.

We ate our disappointment and scarfed down some sushi, which was legit unreal. I may have already written this, but Brazil has the second-largest Japanese population in the world, preceded only by Japan. So the sushi was pretty lit.

  

Class came next, and every single person was practically bouncing with a newfound energy. The transition to a new city had invigorated all of us, and we conversed and discussed with an unforeseen excitement and passion. We learned some introductory Portuguese, which looks enough like Spanish for me to feel moderately comfortable learning it, and also discussed the complicated and fascinating histories of race and Brazil. I enjoyed every second.

To make up for our lack of cultural stimulation that morning, our group decided to visit an alley with street art close to our homes. Unfortunately, a downpour of pelting rain cancelled our plans (Strike 2) and forced us to seek shelter in a random bus (since we weren’t quite sure which we’d taken to get to school in the morning). Luckily, we’d chosen the correct one… Unluckily, we got out on the wrong stop.

It did give us the opportunity to explore a used bookstore and a restaurant named “California,” which I obv freaked out over.

me @ California

We finally got home at 6:30 PM, just in time for another fab dinner. We then went with our host sister (and her adorable daughter!!!!) to a diner down the street for an unreal Twix pastry. Though Sally, her home stay partners, Samantha, and I had promised each other we would meet up for drinks, we all passed out before 9 PM (Strike 3).

I’m truly loving my experience here already—I feel joyful, adventurous, excited, happy. Perhaps it’s just the euphoria of a new location, but part of me feels like I’ll be visiting Brazil, and all of South America, numerous times in the future. Time to soak in all of its initial wonderfulness for the next four and a half weeks!

Hope you enjoyed my first GIF-laden post after a month of lots of words--thanks for stickin' in there!!!

Bom tarde (good afternoon!),

Aubrey