Murilo once told me that Brazilian women put on heels and makeup to walk across the street, so I put on a sundress and kitten pumps, and walked into the bedroom where Mariana was wearing work out pants, a sports bra and tennis shoes. So I changed.
We arrived a little bit late, but made our tennis-shoed way through the dress, heel, and shiny earring-ed crowd to the ticket line. This was my first hint that Mariana does what she wants. As the lovely piano music floated through the atmosphere, lingering here and resting there, Mariana asked a nearby woman a question, and the conversation started. It didn't sound like friendly small talk to me and soon turned into chaos (aka everyone talking at once). This happens sometimes in the apartment where Kelson, Zairinha, and Mariana will all talk at once. It used to stress me out because I thought they were fighting, but I don't think that's always the case. I'm not sure if they are talking to each other, to themselves, or if they know that everyone else is talking, too. Anyway, now I just sit back and enjoy the chaos; I'm literally a head and shoulder taller than most people around me, so I can observe from a safe distance. So people are shouting, the manager (my height) is waving his hands like he is trying to pat these old women into the ground. Mariana moves me right behind her in line, and by right behind her I mean stomach to back, and I become acutely aware of this old lady wearing pointy-toed shoestrying to use her elongated foot to edge around me in the line. I'm not used to the lack of spacial comfort some people have here. I discovered, however, that if I stop her pointy toe (aka block it with my shoe), she doesn't move forward, so I won some space back. (Bring it on, granny. haha, just kidding... kind of)
I eventually realized that everyone was so fired up because tickets were running out. There were three people in front of us and the ticket guy said "nao mais." (no more). Then the ladies REALLY lost it. The manager (poor guy) came out again and apparently had promised a certain number of people tickets, us included, and someone ahead of us had bought 7 tickets. These people aren't messing around with their tea and movies! Nonetheless, he sold the promised number of people tickets, so we got in by 4 people! And all the while, the piano sang it's lullaby...
While we waited, Mariana and I ordered cafezinhos (espresso) and chocolate (I knew I would love this woman). The piano's crooning ended, and the stamped started once again. As a child I was taught the virtue of standing so that the elderly could sit, allowing someone to pass through a door before you, holding the door for someone with their hands full (say, holding a purse and a cane). Well apparently if you do that in a room with too many old, brazilian women you will never get through the door. Mariana, in her loving, maternal way, started pushing me from behind, so I cut off cane-lady, dropped the door, and took a step forceful enough to stop both ladies on either side of me trying to cut me off. Mariana just hung on for the ride...
To be continued...
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