Anarchical Arguments, African Art, and the Deep Blue Sea

(From April 8)

Woah… the last time that I wrote feels so long ago, I barely know how to summarize my life since then. But, I’ll do my best.

So, surprise surprise, I ended up NOT going out on Tuesday night, because, as we already know, I’m lame, and I ended up falling asleep in my bed waiting for a text from Sally, alerting me to the place to meet. My host mom was literally so disappointed in me, she barely looked at me the next day. Lots of shame tbh.

On Wednesday, we split into groups to visit sites revolving around food and food security in the city. I personally saw a small-scale urban farm near Phillipi horticultural land. The farmer was kind of zany… He made a lot of extremely contradictory statements that seemed almost endearing at first but quickly became too problematic for me to respect. I’m sure my disapproval began to come through in a nasty looking frown on my face, but I really couldn’t control it. I spoke with Michael after the visit, and he seemed pretty relieved to find that I had noticed the glaring inconsistencies as well. Often on this program, groupthink can run rampant, and if you’re aware enough to notice that discussions are careening off the path of rationality, it can feel frightening and lonely wondering if you’re the singular person calling for critical thought and adherence to reality. Therefore, I’m finally finding my people, in a sense, that have managed to stay analytical and tethered to real life. Because honestly, this program has begun to remind me a lot of The Bachelor. You know, these girls and this guy come into this completely artificial situation in which they’re jetting around the world, having experiences and meeting people in these completely superficial and irreplicable environments, and then expecting the feelings they develop and the ideologies they espouse to carry back over to real life. But often, they don’t—because we are seeing the fringe of society, a periphal minority (that people call the majority literally all of the time, which is just not true). I’d say half of the guides whom have led me around on various visits readily admit that they commit crimes and engage in illegal activity—and those are the ones that actually just say it. I’m starting to ramble a bit, but I guess that’s just me attempting to reach back out to the rational at home, watching the program unfold and laughing with popcorn at the antics of the crying girls and jetlagged hysteria. God, I can’t wait for the finale.

Anyways, Michael, Eli, and I ended up separating from the main group for lunch and conversed about race and identity and really cool topics that I usually feel to uncomfortable to discuss with people in my class because *see above*. As I spoke and sometimes disagreed with the others, I realized that I’m actually starting to form some pretty sophisticated opinions on the subject and that I’m actually pretty comfortable with the way I see myself and with my own identities. I was worried, because during the first week or so here, I felt so unsure and my identity seemed so fragile; but I’m starting to reconcile the seeming inconsistencies in who I am and to crystallize (quite comfortably!) my own *self*. Yay!

I’m also trying to approach class in a constructive way when I get frustrated. Instead of simply zoning out or unkindly bursting out “WRONG. WRONG WRONG. YOU ARE ALL WRONG,” which could, as you might imagine, be counter-productive, I have returned to my methods of India, in which I absorbed what was being said with (hopefully) an intrigued and kind looking face, then scribbling down and articulating my arguments with certain statements. One of my least favorite things about Harvard (woah sorry big topic change, take a sec to catch up) is that people often think saying “I disagree” or “not in my opinion” is enough to validate their differences from you. But that’s so unproductive and meaningless—if you can’t articulate why you disagree, or if you find that maybe, when you try to think of reasons to defend your own opinion against that of another… Then maybe that’s not actually what you believe. To say you disagree without validation is lazy—it allows you to settle into your rut of formed opinion without ever peeking your head over the side of this whole which you’ve dug for yourself to look for some other ideas which may be even more aligned with your actual beliefs.

WOW long way to say that I refuse to be lazy and I refuse to engage in groupthink, SO my recourse must be to constantly prove to myself why I find my thoughts right and those of my peers incorrect. Constantly. Which must be why I nap for two hours every single day after my nine hours of class. UGH.

But, I got a bit of a mental break yesterday during a site visit to Hout Bay and Hangberg, two of the most beautiful places I’ve seen in Cape Town and honestly the world. A drive around Signal Hill (on which my home in Bo’kaap rests) and to the seaside elicited “wow!’s and cheers from the ten of us in the car. The clear blue water with rocky shores and seaweed peeking out of the waves, winding roads around shrubby hills with breathtaking views, and, in a little bay of a fishing community, bobbing sailboats of varnished red, blue, and green. I was thrilled by the sights. We also got to watch a woman throw bits of fish to a seal, who would do little hops out of the water and twist and turn in order to retrieve the yumminess. She also possessed a tiny, very young puppy—it’d probably just opened its eyes—and I nearly cried while cuddling it to my chest. I miss my dogs so much.

On this visit, which was related to housing, our guide incorporated not only the hard facts of the community but also numerous opportunities to marvel at the nature in the area and enjoy the Cape Townian environment. At one point, after a difficult hike up to a viewpoint overlooking Seal Island (an island literally covered in barking seals!), our guide engaged in a rather somber lecture on the fishermen of the community and the rampant informal settlements. In the middle of his talk, though, he suddenly and calmly interjected, “Oh look, a whale,” and we all turned eagerly to the ocean to watch a whale spout out some water and breach for a second or two. IT WAS THE COOLEST.

Being in such a beautiful place, surrounded by water and mountains with brush and hiking trails reminded me so much of—you guessed it—California. As I get closer to going home (twenty-four days!!!!), I find myself remembering things and missing things that seem unbelievably random. Yesterday, for example, I began to desperately miss this one intersection on La Palma near my hairdresser’s and dear family friend’s home. The people, of course, I miss dreadfully, but yesterday, I missed the literal intersection and the feelings of anticipation and excitement associated with that intersection. Funky, right? I am literally just sooooo homesick and so excited to see home and my family, I can hardly contain it. I swear I’ll appreciate all of them a thousand times more than I already did!!!

Yesterday, after returning home from this housing visit, I quickly changed and dressed up a little then met Sally and Eli for First Thursdays. First Thursdays is a new phenomenon in Cape Town in which on the first Thursday of every month, galleries and museums open up with free admission for late hours. We wandered through art galleries and South African markets and a nearby bar to enjoy the culture and nightlife of the city. I felt very ~cultured~ examining art and appreciating the artists (especially Lisa Littlewort, her work is amazing and exquisite), but the fact that I felt so cultured and mature probably means that I’m usually not… Oh well. I loved slipping into some idea of what I think is cultured. And the artwork was very beautiful.

Today was literally the longest day yet on the program. Class began at 8:30 AM and did not end until after 5 PM. We had only short breaks and a transient lunch during which we had to eat quickly then walk briskly to our visit. I am utterly exhausted and kind of frustrated by the packed schedule to which we’re subjected. I feel unable to absorb all of the information, because I’m just tired after hours and hours of class. It’s hard to pay that much attention!!! Sally and I hit up a free WiFi zone after class, then I ate a quick (and delicious) upon my homecoming, and I passed out on my bed for two hours without the energy to turn the light off.

I was going to edit and finish a paper, as well as skim through some class readings, but maybe I’ll give myself the Friday night off and just lose myself in Infinite Jest until I drift off to sleep. I’ve got a packed and busy and fun weekend coming up—and I can’t wait!!

Kisses,

Aubrey

A Day for Me

(From April 5)

A rough start to the week—but a good one, academically, intellectually, consumer-wise. I have a feeling this will be a shorter blog post, as I’m feeling slightly less inspired and a little less willing to engage with my thoughts than usual.

Yesterday was a regular old Monday. Hours of class and presentation, including an extraordinary presentation by my IHP and Harvard peer, Samantha. I felt like I was learning a lot, my mind was incredibly intellectually stimulated, and I was pretty self-satisfied with my ability to stay mindfully engaged the whole day, even though it took a lot of effort. I visited the Bo’Kaap Museum with Sally after class, a museum dedicated to the evolution of the neighborhood in which we are residing for the remainder of this week. It wasn’t quite what I expected, but I still learned a bit and met a native of New Orleans!

I rested in the house for the remainder of the night, doing homework, reading my book, and watching Shonda Rhimes’s wonderful lineup.

Today involved a really difficult lineup of classes and discussion that left me feeling frustrated, angsty, and isolated. Luckily, I have a friend like Caitlin, with whom I can relax and laugh and simply be without worrying about judgment or sadness. She assisted me as I engaged in some retail therapy at the South African Forever 21 and a nearby market. We also went to a local souvenir shop for some postcards and a liquor store for some wine, which we’d drink during our next experience.

Along with Super Sally, we drove up to the top of Signal Hill, the hill which we visited on the first day of our program. We settled in around an hour before actual sunset and discussed important and intriguing parts of our lives and our experiences. I simply loved enjoying the view, the moment of reflection, the delicious South African wine, the crispness with two people whom I love, appreciate, and respect so deeply. It was wonderful.

Tonight, I may be heading out on the town in order to enjoy Cape Town’s nightlife before retreating into the periphery of Langa township, which is far and isolated from the center of the city. When I told my host mom that I was planning on going out, she literally exclaimed, “finally!!!” This coming from a devout Muslim who abstains completely from alcohol. This makes me think that it really is about time I venture out of my bubble.

So, though there are many things to discuss and think about and reflect upon, I’m giving myself the night off. I’m going to relax and enjoy myself and be happy, because I’ve been wearing myself down, focusing so closely and stressing myself quite unnecessarily. SO tonight is all about Aubs—and I can’t wait!

With love,

Aubrey Noelle

Riooooooo

So... I'll give you one hint as to where I am right now...

(PS: the title of this song is "Girl From Ipanema")

YES THAT'S RIGHT!! I'm at Ipanema Beach in Rio de Janeiro for what is about to be the best best best spring break of all time! After weeks and weeks of stressful site visits, lecture after lecture after lecture, and constant mental engagement, it is FINALLY vacation and it's time to enjoyyyyy.

(and sleep)

Getting to this point of total freedom from responsibility was, however, not quite easy; these past two days were packed full of hair-pulling stress, nerve-wracking warnings, and cut-it-with-a-steak-knife tension. Just to give you some idea:

STRESS:

30% of our grade for one class and 30% of our grade for another were due within 24 hours of one another and could only be done between Thursday and Friday night due to information/research restraints. So, while the assignments were quite interesting, attempting to complete them while also worrying about packing and trying to finish two classes midterms at once was kind of stressful. I didn't even watch Netflix for like two days.

WARNINGS:

Yesterday, after finishing one of our midterms, our country guide sat us down in order to explain to us the strong likelihood of an abrupt and tragic disaster due to political, medical, and/or personal factors. First off, we were told that she doesn't "trust our judgement" as we have shown her that we cannot take good care of ourselves.

my reaction tbh

Turns out she wasn't talking about me specifically but instead a group of peers who'd happened to get sick and lose a few important items (including one passport). But it was still kind of mean in my opinion, and I was like--

But then, we got into the real warnings that really freaked me out.

For example, Zika (which I like definitely have). They warned us that this is the PRIME TIME for mosquitoes, and should we experience any of the symptoms (which I absolutely have) we should contact a doctor immediately even though we may have to wait for hours in the office. I kind of sunk down, trying to hide my joint pain/fever/headache like--

But just as I was really investing my worry in Zika, we were alerted about another great source of fear--civil war!!!!

So as you may or may not know, Brazil is in the middle of this crazy political moment in which millions of Brazilians are calling for the impeachment of a corrupt president. Brazil's democracy is only 28 years old, so many fear that such a diversion from the democratic process could endanger the entire governmental structure of Brazil. Fun awesome yay! So we were warned not to wear the colors red, green, or yellow, because we may accidentally align ourselves with one side of the movement or the other and risk attracting "uncontrollable" aggression.

But don't worry, we have an excellent evacuation plan in case of the outbreak of civil war... which we haven't yet been told... We'll worry about that when we get there, apparently.

TENSION:

Ten weeks of constant (and I mean constant) interaction, has put all of us on edge a tiny bit. I feel like we are just one "can you move just a little bit so I can see the PowerPoint?" away from--

Sally made a great point in that we all have multiple "selves" in different contexts. These include the classroom self, the home self, the India/Brazil/America self, the site visit self, etc. etc. And it's gotten really hard to navigate all these selves and form a sense of identity when you are constantly in contact with everyone else in all of these different contexts. So I think we are all getting *slightly* tense, and that spring break came at just the right time.

~~

Sally, Jenn, and I hopped on our plane to Rio and endured the very short ride to a beautiful, compact airport at which we immediately got our bags and drove to our awesome Airbnb! We have views of two different beaches, and we are literally one minute away from the beach that inspired the above song. We are currently relaxing and napping, because we each (for three different reasons) slept for only three hours last night. Then, it'll be time to scarf down some Mexican food (yaaas @ guac), try some Rio caipirinhas, and enjoy some nightlife!!

So excited to explore another city in the country I've come to love!!!!

Feeling ~decidedly~ unstressed, unworried, and untense,

Spring Break Aubrey!!!

Fine Art, Facial Expressions, and Feeling Fine

I'm feeling extra ~cultural~ and ~sophisticated~ after two days of enjoying the arts... and suffering through a few hours of class in the meantime.

Yesterday was my last Monday of class in Brazil (yay!), and it was actually pretty cool. It involved each of the students standing in front of the class and providing a four-minute presentation on the topic of our Comparative Analysis projects.

Have I described the CA project yet? Probably, maybe, who knows, but I changed everything about my topic, so I'll re-explain. Our final project for one of our classes in the program is a 3,000 word comparative essay in which we (you guessed it) compare a certain phenomenon that occurs in all three countries which we visit. We can choose almost any aspect of the city, as long as it is "observable." This has posed a huge prob for me, because I tend to trust secondary sources, scholarly research, and academic analysis more than my own eyes. The formula has been changed: instead of using experts' ideas to formulate my own opinion, I'm supposed to just watch people walk around, make up something on the fly, then find a paper or two that support my thesis.

Yikes. I have so many academic, moral, and personal issues with this approach. I hate that after only a month in each location, with just a few hours of observation, I'm expected to make some grand statement about a city, its culture, and its people without supporting evidence. With all of my past papers in college, I've felt like I'm contributing, at least in a small way, to the scholarly world. I feel like my work actually means something and that I believe what I'm writing. This is the first time in a long time that I feel like I'm writing a paper just for the sake of getting a grade and that I would legit be embarrassed for a professor or academic to read it and see how little real evidence there is.

my freshman year writing teacher if she saw my essay

There's also the discomfort in literally observing citizens of a city going about their daily lives and attempting to critique them. Like, who am I to judge this guy for littering on the side of the street??

Actually, wait no... that's pretty effed up... I'm gonna pick up that piece of trash for him and give him evil eyes from afar.

do your part, sir

But it really does make me feel voyeuristic and lofty and self-important to engage in this kind of research.

So clearly, this is a really fun assignment for me. And it will be even more fun if my professors find this post!!! In case of that, this isn't actually Aubrey writing, it's somebody else...

Despite all of the complaints of my conscience and my academic horror, I have indeed settled upon a topic. I'm examining mothers' discipline and sons' obedience in an attempt to capture a sense of gender dynamics in each city that I visit. My fascination with feminism and misogyny, as well as my cluelessness about male children since I grew up without brothers, led me to believe this could be a cool thing to study. So, I've been creeping around parks, taking notes about little five-year-old boys.

Not creepy at all, right???

My presentation went well enough, though, as I managed to suppress my apprehensions and get impassioned about the issues.

After class, a few of us walked to a really cool bookstore near our school to look at some English paperbacks. Plus, it was GIGANTIC. I'm literally such a nerd.

so many floors of books!!!

Though I have this aversion to spending money on books, since I have access to the second largest library in the United States behind the Library of Congress, as well as my adorable home library, I couldn't help but buy this beaut.

YES, it is a collection of short stories about Orange County, California!!! I absolutely could not restrain myself. I figure that since I read a book on each plane ride about the country to which I'm flying, I couldn't ask for a better piece of fiction to accompany on the long flight back to the US in just a month and a half.

Side note--a month and a half. WOW. I am over half-way done with this program and with my international status. So bittersweet.

Back to books: it never takes too long for my homestay family and roommate to notice that I'm a complete bookworm. The other day, when I was reading at the kitchen table, absentmindedly ignoring all distractions for hours on end, my homestay sister commented (slightly alarmed) that I read "a lot." I mean, yeah, sometimes I choose to read my book instead of go out to a club or interact with humans, but that doesn't make me a loser, right? I have lots of friends...

Quite a few of them just happen to be fictional.

I did finish my book last night, a Pulitzer Prize winner called The Goldfinch, which I totes recommend if you're into mystery/drama/art. I stayed up way too late flipping through its final pages, though, and could barely drag myself out of bed this morning into my second-to-last clean outfit (I really need to do laundry).

Luckily for me, today's lecture and classtime were only supposed to last two hours... But of course, it went an extra hour and a half.

I've been told by a fair number of people that subtlety is not my strong suit and that my facial expressions are quite entertaining. I literally don't even notice that my face is moving. Even when I think I'm sitting there, hiding my impatience well and looking super interested, like--

It looks more like--

I promise, I don't even feel my face contorting into my grimaces, and I always think I'm just blinking when in fact I'm dramatically rolling my eyes! Well, I guess the good thing is that if it looks like I'm paying attention to you and that I'm interested in what you're saying.. I actually am!!!

After finishing class (finally), I waltzed off by myself to MASP, the Sao Paulo Museum of Art. Surprisingly and fortunately, admission is free on Tuesdays, and I entered the museum excited for what I'd been told is a pretty cool museum.

Guys, "pretty cool" is an understatement.

This place was incredible.

The museum is set up chronologically, so that you wander through the paintings and sculptures not according to geographical location nor artist but simply according to the year of its creation. The artwork also stood independently, held up by subtle glass supports, so that the museum felt really interactive and open, since the paintings weren't hanging flatly on a wall.

I wandered between the paintings, examining the work first then stepping around to its back to examine the information on the artist and the name of the painting. Oh my god, it was astounding. Rembrandt, Picasso, Manet, Monet, Titian, El Greco, Rivera... It was a dream come true. It was also a pretty small space, so I was actually able to see and appreciate every single piece. I think it's my favorite art museum that I've ever had the opportunity to attend. WOW IT WAS SO FREAKING COOL!!! Having just finished a 771-page novel about the beauty of art, I also felt primed to savor the preciousness, precision, and skill in every work. It was just this awesome collision of the right timing, the right mood, and the right price, ayyy.

I headed back to my home and quickly crashed into bed for a nap.

Upon waking, I ate dinner, watched TV, chatted on the phone with my dad, and played with baby Maria Luisa.

Apparently, though, as happy and good as I feel, I don't quite look it... One of the program directors asked me today if I felt alright since I'm looking "pale and tired."

bye

I mean, maybe it's because I'm kept in class every single day from 9 to 5 and I never get to see the sun and also I stay up way too late reading my book??? But this only heightened my fervor to get to Rio de Janeiro beaches ASAP (four more days!).

Then, my host sister walked in on me eating a tin of cookies around 10 PM (you know, a normal snack) after eating four pieces of toast with Dulce de Leite (okay, less normal now), and asked worriedly, "are you alright? you're eating a lot. are you pregnant?"

ABSOLUTELY NOT, WOW NO, NOT EVEN, NO NO. I almost choked on that eighth cookie that I was inhaling. But apparently I have acquired the eating habits of a human that is growing another human inside of her. That's extremely unworrying and completely fine. My responses have looked a little like--

Because seriously.... I'm fine. Like I really am! I am happy, and satisfied, and apparently kind of hungry. But I'm really enjoying myself and looking forward to Rio in a few days and getting this second midterm season over with! Hopefully, I won't be called "pale" after my week in paradise... But I'll probably still be eating a lot.

Gotta start reading another book, even though it's midnight!!

Buh bye,

Aubs

Street Art and "Sickness"

My third week of Brazilian classes started slowly. Getting out of bed Monday morning looked (and felt) like

do I have to get up?

I got my act together, though, and crawled out from under my blankets, guzzled down a few cups of coffee, and dozed on the bus on the way to what would be a fascinating (and super unique) day of learning. The day began with an hour-long lecture on graffiti and street art in Sao Paulo... However, my professor found a way to talk for an entire 45 minutes without mentioning the words "street art" or "graffiti" even once.

It is, though. It is.

LUCKILY, Sally, Izzy, and Austin gave a fascinating twenty-minute talk on the subject, so I actually learned quite a bit about the street art movement in the city.

Me cheering for Sally in class

The brief review that the student group presented laid the groundwork for a fascinating panel of four graffiti artists and taggers from Sao Paulo. They described their backgrounds, which were mostly impoverished and frustrating, and spoke about how tagging and graffiti allowed them to express their identity and existence in a city that strives to ignore them. TBH I'm never really one for breaking the rules--I would rather carry a gum wrapper for 20 minutes than throw it on the ground, and I call the bank when they accidentally deposit someone's check in my account--but the position of these artists fascinated me, and I yearned to learn more about their drive, passion, and goals.

Luckily, because I'm a student on IHP, I had the chance.

Following lunch, my class split into small groups, each with a different street artist leader, and ventured into Sao Paulo. Our destination, Sao Mateus, is a district in Sao Paulo that is about ~an hour and a half from the city center. We stepped off the bus around 3:15 PM, crowded under umbrellas in attempts to avoid the rain. Though the sky was a stormy gray, and the streets were muffled with a damp pallor, the walls of the city shone with a bright vibrancy. We could already see the work of the group of our leader, Fernando.

one of the first pieces completed by Fernando's group, OPNI

So bright and beautiful; a collaboration with a Canadian artist

An artwork completed by three different women--each one contributed one of the figures!

one of my personal favorites--a woman inspired and strengthened by her ancestors. her arm tattoo reads "luta," or "fight," as in, fight for your rights

Though the neighborhood was impoverished, and though some of the paint was beginning to peel, the area felt alive. Fernando explained the excitement and pride evoked by this art in the inhabitants. Trash littered some of the streets, and buildings were a little bit shabby, but the art was beautiful and it made the residents happy. Some of the images also conveyed messages. This one for example--

Reads, "return our childhood." Another work, which showed the Corinthians soccer stadium (in which I actually watched a game) and several Brazilians engaged in illicit and dangerous activities, protested the monetary investment in the World Cup and the Olympics while the people of the country were starving and suffering. 

I tend to express myself through writing (hence my numerous love letters to boys who *shockingly* tend not to return the sentiment), but I have always expected and admired artists' abilities to convey a message through images and without words. Hence, the street art and graffiti of Sao Mateus enthralled and inspired me.

Fernando also expressed how much the people loved to get their houses painting. Whenever they see members of his group, OPNI, walking through the streets holding spray cans and paint, they run out of their homes, excitedly requesting images on their empty buildings. Unfortuantely, Fernando said, they simply didn't have the time to acquiesce to these demands--though someday, they hope to cover every blank wall in Sao Mateus with color.

Sao Mateus, in progress

Fernando then led us to Sao Mateus em Movimento, an organization dedicated to the empowerment and education of neighborhood children. To be completely honest, I almost cried listening to Fernando's description of this center that is so integral to the well-being and future of the youth in this area. "These kids," he explained, "walk around with their arms crossed, and their eyes blank." They do not have goals, or faith in their own futures. Sao Mateus em Movimento aims to inspire children by teaching skills, by providing a space to do homework and read, and by giving them options. 

This, this, this. This, I truly and honestly believe, is the solution to so many problems, and here are members of a community, acting without the help of an ambivalent government and instead on their own initiative, working to give children better lives tahn they would otherwise have. It inspired me, and meeting the center's workers sparked a drive in me to participate in a center like this one back home. I honestly believe that places like Sao Mateus em Movimento have the potential to change so many lives. I was obviously v. impassioned.

That passion didn't fade even a little bit during the thirty-minute bus ride or hour-long subway ride, with two transfers, back home. The half-mile walk in the pouring rain may have damped it slightly, though.

A delicious, hot dinner was waiting for me at home, though, as were a pair of super cute sandals from my host family!!!!

they even have a Brazilian flag on the strap!!!

I love them a ton, and I love that my host family gifted them to me!

Though I got to sleep pretty early last night, I woke up this morning exhausted. I decided to throw in the towel and plead ill to take the day off.

Though I had huge plans for my afternoon--including Soul Cycle, a jog, and a trip to the library--I instead basically just laid in bed and read my book.

Classic me.

I did, however, go to the neighborhood farmer's market with my host sister and her gorgeous daughter! I had so much fun marvelling at the fruit stands selling exotic and unfamiliar produce, including the "caqui," which a kind seller let me taste. 

(To remember the name of this fruit, I had to google "fruit that looks like a tomato" then translate "persimmon" into Portuguese.)

I also ate two unbelievable "pastels," which, as I may have described before, as fried dough pockets of meat and cheese. I also drank this unbelievable concoction of sugar cane juice, pineapple, and lime. After trying these out-of-this-world treats, I was like--

I literally forgot food could taste this delicious.

I also had the chance to hold and play with Maria Luisa, my six-month-old host niece, and I only wished I had a baby for like, five minutes.

Then I think about the crying and how much I love sleep and how impatient/selfish I am, not to mention my perpetual singlehood, and I'm like,

However, I showered my love on Maria Luisa and even gave her a little souvenir from back home--

I spent a good part of the afternoon chatting with my host mom (Maria) and host sis (Liza) about food, dating, and bad words in English. It was such a relaxing and fun and wonderful day, and I'm oh-so happy I was "sick."

Now I just have to muster the motivation to return to class tomorrow... ugh. For now, though, I'll start a new book, watch Netflix, and gain ten more pounds during a delicious dinner. My spring break self is begging me to put down the fork and pick up a dumbbell, but I'll deal with my jiggly consequences in a week once I really start panicking about my bikini.

Ciao, amigas (it is, after all, International Women's Day),

Aubrey

Cheers to the Weekend

How do I even begin to encompass and describe the disparity between my past three days here in Sao Paulo? From informal housing sites, to a Top 40 night club, to a Portuguese SoulCycle, these 72 hours have allowed me to explore facets of the city that I'd never before seen.

Thursday seems like years ago, My friends and I have found that certain class days--specifically, the ones that involve nine hours of class and five different lectures, can bring us to the brink of sleep.

Lecturer: "As we have discussed in the past ten classes, colonialism began in the 15th century"

Seriously, even a history concentrator can only take so much repetition. So, in order to keep our minds sharp and our wandering thoughts corralled, a few of my friends and I have begun Sudoku races. We create Sudoku charts in our notebooks, copy down a few puzzles, and compete to finish first. Doing this actually really helps me pay attention, as I'm occupying my logical/number side of the brain (which is sorely underused tbh) while keeping my creative, imaginative side open for the issues and crises of Sao Paulo.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

We spent the latter half of Thursday at a fascinating apartment complex that is currently developing in Sao Paulo. It'd been a really long day, though, and I found the dimmed lights and comfy temperature of the presentation room quite lulling. At one point, we had to wake up our drowsing teacher. Slightly hilarious. But the presenter was really interesting, and I enjoyed inquiring about how his work relates to the recent history and economy of Sao Paulo. I so love being immersed in this city.

Later that afternoon/night, I went with a few friends to a bar in the a nearby neighborhood. We chatted loudly and cackled rambunctiously, and we spoke with abandon because nobody could understand us!!!!

Them: ^

Us: Good.

On Friday, I started the day with an hour-long trip outside the city center to an informal housing unit built up over the last few years. Basically, this community is constituted of families and individuals that would be homeless but have squatted on uninhabited government land and constructed homes from wood, cardboard, and other temporary materials. Many have improved and fortified their structures over the past few years and are now gaining formal status from the government.

Unlike individuals that I met in similar situations in India, the people in these locations expressed profound anger. They did not want to live in this location nor in these situations; they were desperate, and these informal homes were their last resort. "All we ask for," one inhabitant expressed, "is dignified living."

I found myself inspired, though, and awed by the fortitude, energy, and determination of these individuals. Despite working long hours during the week, they used the weekends to lay pipes and sewage systems; build up their own homes; and help others in the community construct. Even as we spoke, wrapping up our discussion, we watched two men laying the framework for a new home. I was astounded.

I was bothered too, though, by my reactions to this community. I felt hopeful, I felt myself being inspired instead of angered by the conditions, and I did not feel bad. This is completely different than my emotions in India. Upon seeing slums, I was so frustrated and almost physically sickened. Brazilian slums have not affected me in the same manner at all.

I'm scared by this change in my perception of subpar living conditions. Is it because I am so much happier in Brazil that I'm subconsciously donning rose-colored glasses in looking even at poverty and injustice? Is it that I'm getting desensitized to these issues? I'm nervous by the fickleness of my judgment and my inability to critically analyze the urban problems with which I'm being presented. 

I attempted to grapple with these problems but found myself swept up in the excitement of another fun weekend--guilt burgeoned in me with this swift and callous transition, but my long week required some mental and emotional distraction. So, after a fab haircut, Izzy joined my host family for dinner and was wowed by the unbelievable beef/fried dough Brazilian dish called "pastels." These little meat pockets were effing delicious, and I couldn't stop exclaiming my delight even with my mouth stuffed. I think my host mom loves me because if I'm not praising her cooking, I'm fawning over her granddaughter. Flattery is my specialty.

After dinner, a great roar of cheering swelled outside the window. I ran to listen to the second political expression since my arrival. Brazil's last president, Lula, was arrested to the delight and vindication of my numbers. Clapping, shouts of joy, and whistling filled the air.

me tryna absorb what is happening

People here are just unbelievably politically engaged. I think it's because of how young Brazil's democracy is--its current system of electoral, free government began in 1989. Think of how invested Americans were in every election and political happening back in the early 1800's.

Oh... only I'm familiar with the investment of Americans in politics in the early 1800's? 

But hey, maybe you'll reconsider my nerd status when you learn that I went out to a club last night!!! WOW!!! Aubrey went out!!!!

Even though the whole time I was thinking--

I more or less suppressed my social anxiety/nervousness/exhaustion and really ended up enjoying myself. Dancing with Izzy and Sally was the highlight of my night--I mean, besides our 3:00 AM McDonald's run, of course.

This morning, we woke up for what was one of the most fun and rockin' days I've had on this program. Sally, Izzy, Jenn, and I scoured an antiques market and nearby boutiques for some gifts and finds. I did so well with my shopping discoveries... So well in fact that I'm looking at my bank account like

That can't be right... oh my god, it is.

But omg, I have gotten to that weird, mature age at which I like buying gifts for other people more than I like shopping for myself??? Am I... an adult???

Spoiler alert, I bought three scoops of gelato and ate the entire thing too fast tonight and got a stomach ache, so no, I'm not nearly an adult.

After shopping, we walked to the Brazilian version of SoulCycle called Velocity. Velocity and SoulCycle are establishments at which you have an instructor guiding you through a stationary bike class with super awesome music and rave-y lights. I actually got embarrassingly into it and may not be a member of the SoulCycle cult.

We treated ourselves to an unreal Italian dinner of caprese, salmon, and gnocchi then got some gelato.

Jenn and I spent the entire night crying (aka sobbing) at military homecoming videos, marriage proposals, Google Chrome commercials, and the first episode of Fuller House. All of my friends have now gone out to party in Sao Paulo but I decided to stay behind and enjoy the night of having a room alllll to myself. Time to snuggle under my covers and enjoy my favorite kind of Saturday night.

Good night, dearies,

Aubrey

Getting to Know the City

What a wonderfully wild whirlwind of three days. I will probably have to make this pretty short, because I'll be heading out very soon for a futbol game, wahoo!!!

Thursday involved a deliciously exhausting jog (in which we didn't get lost ONCE) and a long day of classes (about six hours). HOWEVER, the end of the day was actually super fun--our advisor surprised us with a Brazilian dance lesson with two amazing professional dancers!

We learned Samba, which I pretended I was really good at--

what I thought I looked like on left, what I really looked like on right

We also learned this fab dance that one of my peers called "Soulja Boy on crack," a rather apt description. It's this choreographed dance to a super popular song that is a summer fad (it's summer in Brazil right now!!! #southernhemisphere) Unfortunately, I have literally no idea what the name of the song is, and even when I hear it and excitedly ask a Brazilian the name, they reply so quickly and with such Portuguese flourish that I'm like--

I don't understand what you just said???

Alas, I must listen to the random snatches of the song that I hear walking on the street and just try to bust out my moves on the sidewalk. 

After the dance lesson, a few of us went to a nearby bar to celebrate Thursday with a traditional Brazilian drink called the caipirinha. Apparently, these sugar-alcohol-based drinks are v dangerous, because they're so sweet that you can't even notice how strong they are. All I know is that after half of one, I very willingly lost a round of "Odds Are" (a dare game that is very fun) and twerked on a wall for about 10 seconds. It was an experience.

pre-twerking, still happy and fresh-faced

We were all supposed to go out to a bar as a group that night, but I pled out, desperate for sleep. #boringAubs

Friday (TGIF) involved 8 (yes, 8) hours of class (okay, there was a lunch break, but still). Incredibly long day. Sam and I were almost late to class because our 15-minute breakfast turned into an hour-long breakfast in which we stuffed ourselves with coffee cake, fruit, toast, and mortadella sandwiches (okay, that last one was just me, because Sam is vegetarian). Totally worth it, though. I eat about twice as much as I should every single meal, tbh.

Class rocked, but during a lecture on immigration into Brazil, I found myself incredibly aware of my Californian-ness for the 1832019430243972nd time since entering college. My professor commented that the Chinese immigrated in droves into Brazil and she off-handedly threw in that "maybe" some went to the US as well. 

Maybe?

Maybe?

Hello??? Gold Rush in California??? The fact that Chinese immigrants, enduring tragic harassment, abuse, and discrimination, built the entire transcontinental railroad and established themselves as incredibly successful citizens of the United States despite the prejudice and hardships facing them? Does Chinatown ring a bell??? Reduced to a "maybe."

People are incredibly ignorant of Californian history, and West Coast history in general, which is shocking to me, considering I spent my entire childhood learning about the establishment of missions, the California Gold Rush, Native American tribes occupying the West Coast, immigration into Northern California, etc. etc. I remember that my class on the History of American Capitalism freshman year spent two hours covering the French fur trade in the 16th century, while reducing the Gold Rush to a single bullet point in passing. Like yah k makes sense (not). Anyways, as a history major and die-hard Californian, I think I'll spend practically my entire life trying to prove to people that California is worth learning about (considering we contribute hella culture/money/awesomeness to American and global society) and worth loving.

Ugh such a random side-note, especially when I'm leaving for this game, like, five minutes ago, but I needed to reaffirm my love for the best coast.

forever, babe.

I actually also led a class discussion on Friday, which was extremely nerve-wracking considering the touchy subject and the passionate beliefs of many of my peers, but I couldn't help but insert a (perhaps naively) optimistic note into my conclusion. We were discussing all these problems that we've seen in the United States, India, and Brazil, and we all noticed that they overlapped a ton. Issues of class, problems with race and racism, seemed not identical but highly similar across the continents and cultures. Yes, these are global problems, but I argue that this may mean there are global solutions. I got super excited about the potential for gradual improvement around the world on these crazy complex challenges facing so many people that often seem impossible to solve. Who knows, maybe I can one day help in some way to improve something somewhere. (Hint: broad goals are the easiest ones to achieve.) Really though, the toughest and thorniest issues are the hardest but most satisfying to solve. And I truly believe that it's possible..

encouragement

Post-discussion, Sally and I enjoyed two (yes, two) consecutive lunches then returned to class for a super fascinating panel on urban justice. Post-class, it was the weekend (woohoo!!!) and I got super stoked for the imminent pregame and club scene that night. 

But of course, in true Aubrey fashion, by 9 PM, I was like--

Kind of embarrassing, but like also, come on. That's just me. I didn't go out a single time in Israel, and I really don't regret it at all. Clubbing is just really, really, really not my thing. I've definitely conquered quite a bit of my social anxiety back at school (I'm practically queen of the PSK) (JK, pls don't blackball me because I said that) (love you guys the most), but random parties in random cities still make me hyperventilate. So, I will absolutely enjoy Sao Paulo nightlife for at least a few nights while I'm here.... But I'm also not gonna put myself in situations that make me super uncomfortable just for the sake of saying I went out. I think I've learned better than that over the past few years. Is this what maturity is like? EW.

potentially

I especially appreciated my decision after hearing that my friends were out until 5:30 in the morning.

literally me upon hearing this

I swear I had a second-hand panic attack.

This morning, Sam and I went on an awesome walking tour of Sao Paulo with three other friends and really enjoyed ourselves. 

My favorite tidbits: 

-that if you miss the last subway of the night because you've been drinking too much, then keep drinking until 4:40 AM when the first subway of the day comes around!!!

-the municipal library has an incredible large-scale artistic piece on the sidewalk in front of it. Using hundreds of small tiles in the actual concrete, the artist spelled out "library" in dozens of different languages!!!

-the Se Cathedral is one of the largest Neo-Gothic cathedrals in the entire world.

-the tallest building in the entire city of Sao Paulo is a really ugly office building that isn't open to the public--until now!!! Heineken is holding a lottery-style raffle that will allow select individuals to drink on the top floor. WOAH!

Here are a few pics from the tour:

the Municipal Theatre--beautiful building!

Se Cathedral!

A gigantic street market

Anyways, I'm about to be late for the awesome soccer game that we are attending tonight, so I must sign off--but I'm so loving Sao Paulo. I am already planning my next visit to Brazil, and I still have four weeks left here!! Fantastically refreshed, super excited, and incredibly grateful for this experience.

Love to you all,

AUBREY