Cultural Weekend and a Sobering Monday

Gosh, have I truly only been here in Brazil for a week? It feels like forever in the best possible way. I've enjoyed numerous encounters with the culture of this city; I've savored the food and the people; I've learned about the history, the art, and the problems of the city; and I've come to appreciate the beautiful, compassionate, lively, whole-heartedly wonderful spirit of Paulistas.

Saturday night, Samantha and I met five other friends for a soccer game!! Attend a soccer game in Brazil... What an experience to check off the bucket list. We cheered for the Corinthians, a Sao Paulo-based team, as they played against someone else (don't remember their name) with the colors red and green. In a hilarious and slightly frightening intro to the craziness that is Brazilian futbol, an armed and armoured cop (of which there were plenty at the game) warned Sally that she could not sit on the Corinthians side. This was because her dress was almost sort of dark forest green and would potentially get her beat up--even though she was literally wearing a Corinthians flag as a cape. Upon showing the cop her flag, he very hesitantly gave her the go-ahead.

what did we get ourselves into

Despite the slightly nerve-wracking beginning to our futbol experience, it was literally one of theeee most fun games to which I've ever been!!!

Vai Corinthians!!!

potentially spent more time looking at the camera than at the field

I couldn't really figure out which team I was supposed to cheer for, so at every moment of potential scoring, I had to constantly inquire,

because I REALLY didn't want to get beaten up.

Our team ended up winning two minutes into overtime 1-0, which was SO cool. Our ride on the metro home was impressively smooth, easy, and efficient. I fell in love with another part of Brazil on that fantastic subway. That's how dorky/nerdy my affection for this country is.

me to Brazil

Sam and I woke up super late on Sunday, relaxed and content. Sally met up with us to walk to a cool museum called the Museum of Image and Sound. It was about thirty minutes away, and we walked through a beautiful neighborhood on a beautiful day. It was lovely.

me frolicking down the street

The museum ended up having limited opportunities for non-Portuguese speakers, but Sam and I did well enough with our rudimentary Spanish to understand some of the exhibits' descriptions. We wandered into a random outdoor market next door to admire some stunning craftsmanship, including turquoise jewelry, azul vases, and wildly revolting seats made of actual fur and hooves (eep). We then decided to walk about a half hour more to a really sick street art location, but by this point I thought I was dying of hunger, so my hangry walk was more like--

A heaping cone of gelato cheered me right up, though. 

We strolled through this cemetery with graves dating back to birth-dates of 1885, which fascinated me. Cemeteries really intrigue me, and something about examining the names and years on graves saddens me (because death) and gives hope to me (because there is power and compassion in sparing a few moments to recognize another's life, even if he or she has died long ago). 

From the cemetery, in which we had to deftly avoid embracing couples, we arrived at Beco do Batman, an incredible alleyway full of graffiti.

black and white

color!!!

my favorite piece of artwork in the alley

Sally, Sam, and I really enjoyed gazing at the gorgeous works and taking tons of pictures.

(It's getting late, and I'm getting excited, so I'm gonna speed this up)

From the alley, Sally and I took a taxi to Angelica's Grill, an all-you-can-eat churrascaria, which is like a barbecue place. Have you ever seen Bridesmaids?

 

This scene takes place at a churrascaria. LUCKILY, our night did not end in--

But we did stuff ourselves with tons of incredible meats and salads and cheese. Our excitement every time that a new meat arrived at our table--

literally

Cracked up our servers, and they legit began to mock us every time they passed our table. They'd say "oh my god!!!" and "yay!!!!" in super exaggerated American accents in a really high, girly voice.

It was too funny to be angry; plus, we were, like, really really excited.

Sally returned to my house and we booked the sickest spring break EVER. Five days at one of the best beach locations in the world/one of the Wonders of the World, then two and a half days at one of the Natural Wonders of the World, all for under $500. I mean like yeah, sounds good to me.

It legit took two hours to book this sh*t though, because the airline website was a fiasco.

However, after numerous attempts of trying to convince a computer system that I am not in fact Brazilian and that yes I do have a valid zipcode and a few moments of--

I  booked tickets for myself, Sally, and Jenn. WAHOO.

This morning was Monday morning, which, even in South America, is

BUT the prospect of Neighborhood Day definitely brightened the idea of Monday. I ended up being sorted into a group with tons of my favorite people and we visited the neighborhood of Bom Retiro, a site in Sao Paulo known for its immigration, culture, and its identity as a cracolandia--or literally, a "land of crack."

Yes, crack. Like, crack cocaine.

We were treated to the delightful views of people literally smoking crack cocaine in broad daylight, only feet away from armed police officers. I have never before in my life been in a place or situation like that. It was shocking and a little scary and really uncomfortable. But, it's important to see these things, to get a glimpse of what daily life can look like for some people, to understand the disastrous problems and addictions rotting out society. Perhaps the most alarming sight was the high school literally around the corner from the drug-trafficking site. It actually sickened me to hear from our guide that "the first two times" trying crack cocaine in school bathrooms are free--they hook young children and ruin their lives. Well, assist in ruining their lives--I'm not going to disregard personal agency in this case. But still. Breathtaking in a bad way.

Towards evening, as we prepared to head back home, a few group members decided they wanted to speak to some policemen in cracolandia about the cops' inactivity and hands-off approach. Our guide heavily warned against it, saying she thought it was an extremely terrible idea for us to return to the area.

My thought process: hmmm... a native warning us against chatting with potentially corrupt policemen in an area riddled with drug addicts at dark in a country in which I do not speak the language nor understand cultural norms nor have internet.

Their thought process: it'll be fine!!!!

So, as the majority of the group made plans to venture back into crack land, I pulled a--

and took a subway back home. They returned safely but I remain happy with my safe, boring, vanilla decision.

Tonight at dinner, I downed a few cups of coffee, anticipating a long night of reading class assignments and writing this blog. I sat in bed, multi-tasking (aka watching Fuller House and Eat, Pray, Love, surfing Buzzfeed, chatting with Sam, and writing a thing or two down in my notebook), and, for the first time on this program, I felt so... college. Hyped on coffee after 9 PM, discussing current events and our days with a roommate, finishing classwork, unwinding to some Netflix... It felt familiar, It felt comfortable. It felt like home. And, after months of feeling alien and lonely and overwhelmed and upset, "home" (even if it's about twenty degrees warmer with slightly more chance of contracting a deadly mosquito-born disease) feels nice. It feels good.

I am honestly happier than I've been in the past two months--the weather, the excitement of the city, my deepening friendships, my ability to contact my family, my anticipation for the dozens of fun activities coming up.... They are all invigorating and refreshing and rejuvenating me. I feel like a new and improved Aubs. God, I am so happy.

Thankful beyond words,
Aubrey

The Real Israel

One of the first questions I'm asked by Israelis upon our first meeting is, "Is Israel what you expected it to be?"

My initial reaction is just to go--

But I know that the inquirers deserve a legitimate answer. So many misconceptions fly around about Israel, and there's undoubtedly a lot of hatred aimed at the inhabitants, so Israelis are eager to find out whether or not the country and land they're so proud of have wiped away any negative assumptions. Here are some of the fallacies that my experiences have disproved.

Belief: Israel is a barren desert.

Reality: Israel is kind of an oasis. Sure, if you go far enough inland, you'll encounter reddish-brown mountains reminiscent of Arizona, or New Mexico, with little-to-no visible wildlife beyond some brush. But the city I live in (Raanana), the city I work in (Herzliya), and Tel Aviv are all overflowing with greenery and critters. Raanana is greener, in fact, than Southern California. There are many flowers, tons of chirping birds, and palm trees. Herzliya is a beach community with ivy climbing up the walls of the buildings. Tel Aviv rests right on the Mediterranean and is filled with little emerald parks and tons of dogs (happy Aubs).

Belief: Everybody in Israel is a religious Jew.

Reality: Israel is a little bit more diverse than that. To be sure, you'll see many more kippahs (or yamakas) on men out and about than you ever would in SoCal or Cambridge, but only about 30% of Israelis are practicing Jews. There are also many Arab Muslims inhabiting Israel (and quite a bit of tension exists between the two groups), and non-practicing Jews. It's interesting; many Jewish Israelis identify not with the Jewish religion, but with the Jewish ethnicity and the Jewish culture. Some of these Jews could not begin to tell you about the history of the Torah, but they are proud of their ancestors and the strength of their people. 

Belief: Israel is dangerous.

Reality: Most of Israel is actually very, very safe. Not just from rockets--which it is!--but from ordinary crime as well. I actually feel much safer walking down a dark street in Raanana than I do in Cambridge. A sense of camaraderie and community pervades the cities and streets. I think that's what happens when it feels like the whole world--or at least, your immediate world--is ganged up against you. You band together. You kind of have to.

Other things I've noticed:

- Almost everybody speaks English--except for the bus drivers, cuz that'd just be way too easy. But seriously, if you speak to five random people on the street, at least four of them would answer you coherently. Of course, I feel like an absolute idiot, considering I can barely speak one language (I've had to spell check, like, 15 different words in this entry alone). I do get this perverted sense of pride when somebody speaks Hebrew to me initially. Like, oooo, they think I'm Israeli, go me! Of course this pride is shattered the second I have to go "errr ummm inglit???" And then they look a little bit exasperated and disgusted and my ego deflates a tiny bit.

- People really like America. Whether my perceptions are slightly skewed because of the superstar quality of me coming from California, or my attendance at one of the top universities in the world, I'm not sure; but it really does seem that people are fond of the USA. Thank God for that, because I would feel very uncomfortable living in a country that had animosity, or even apathy, towards the US. In Egypt, for example, you're better off just telling people you're from Canada. I don't know if I could convincingly tell someone I come from "America's top hat." (Kidding.... A little bit.) But really, if anybody had walked into my bedroom on July 3rd at 11:59, this is what it would have looked like.

WOOOO

- Tel Aviv feels like an American or European city. It isn't "quintessentially Middle Eastern"--honestly, I don't really know what that'd look like, but I feel very comfortable in the city in a way I didn't feel comfortable in Istanbul. 

- Israelis are a very hands-on, confrontational, and at times pushy people. They will demand what they believe they deserve. If you're dozing or blanking out, they will cut you in line. And they refuse to put up with any bullsh*t. For example, when the think tank I work for reserved a conference room, and students from the college were working in the space, they profusely and very stubbornly refused to leave. Let me clarify--an adult researcher for an international think tank on counter-terrorism had to fight with some college students to leave a room that had been reserved. They insisted that it was "their school" and they had the right to sit there.

The blatant disrespect of authority had me like

If anybody even semi-important looking walked into a room I was in at Harvard--even a freaking bathroom--and told me they had it reserved, I'd be like

OMG I'm so sorry, I'll leave right now, would you like some snacks, some orange juice, can I pull out that seat for you?

It's a very different, very authoritative culture. Perhaps when you have multiple nations and millions of people telling you that the land you live on doesn't actually belong to you, or the religion you practice garners enough hatred for millions to actively seek your death,  you start to feel (or at least act) entitled to a few things--a conference room being one.

If you have any more questions about Israel, I'd be happy to answer them! Just leave a comment below, and I'll answer to the best of my abilities!

Much love,

Practically Israeli Aubrey