I'm a loser

Apparently, according to Murilo, when one spends all their time at the beach, floating on boats, going to the cinema, and doesn't know what day of the week it is, that person is a loser. I prefer to think of it as temporarily retired.

Mariana and I spent a wonderful day living up our loser status floating around the little bay here that is created by coral reefs. We went out on a boat run by one of the bar/restaurants along the water, Lopana, and the boat drove from "piscina natural" (natural pool created by a small coral reef) to piscina natural. I saw my first one-piece here, had my first conversation

with "strangers" (aka new friends) who didn't speak

english all by myself, and got my first sun burn this summer (who needs sunscreen on their butt? Apparently I do.) It was a great THURSDAY.

The reef here is interesting - I can't tell if it's dead coral or rocks, but like every reef, the closer you look, the more you find, and there was plenty living once you got close enough! I also thought the bay area was cool - the reefs and rocks form a wall around the little bay, and the closer you get to that border, the more you can see how wild the ocean is. On the bay side the water is clear, still, and little fish are swimming all around, but on the other side of the rocks the ocean is wild and wavy. I've never seen water change so fast. The other thing that is cool

about the bay is that it is full of little sail boats called Jangadas. They are little boats used by

fishermen, but around here they are mostly used to get to the party that is happening around the natural pools. Around one pool I saw chairs and umbrellas, way out on the outskirts of the bay! Crazy brazilians.

This weekend we're going to a big concert in another city. We leave tomorrow at noon and get back some time on Sunday. I'm sure we'll get some good posts out of this weekend! On top of that, my bum could use a little rest from the sun.

Revenge of the 80-somethings

After our beach trek, Mariana and I had 30 minutes to shower, dress, eat, and get to the cinema. There was a special program running today, Cha e Filme, or "Tea and a movie." The program included an hour of a piano reception, then a showing of the film "Desert Flower," and then music and refreshments.

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...

I had a chance to talk to Katie today, but...

Today Mariana and I also went to the beach. We meant to go so we could sit, enjoy the sun, swim a little, and other typical winter time activities, but the supermarket check out line took so long that we didn't have time for all those shenanigans. So we dropped off our soap and papayas, picked up Toby, and went for a quick walk (minus the diaper) to a bank kiosk so Mariana could do some quick banking.

However... (doesn't every story start with this word?) the kiosk was out of order. So Mariana asked someone passing by if there was another Bank of Brasil close by, and luckily enough there was! Only 4 or 5 blocks away! More or less.... (do you see a yellow bank?)

Turns out it was mostly more. We walked, and walked and walked and walked, and stopped so Toby could pee on a wall, and walked and walked and walked. Turns out the bank was some 45 minutes down the beach. Finally the yellow awning came into view so once we got there Mariana did her banking. Once she finished we both were sweaty and Toby's little poodle legs were tired, so we headed for the water for a quick break before our return trip. Mariana charmed us some chairs and ordered 2 coconuts while I made for the water. It was a little bit cold, but I was hot so I didn't mind. When I was cooled off and starting to feel the chill I headed back for Mariana and Toby. And then the wind started to blow, making the water evaporate off my skin and leaving the little blond hairs on my arm standing up. And then the wind turned cold, and it started to blow harder. And then the rain came.

So here we are, a 45 minute walk from the house, I'm wet, we're cold, it's raining, and our coconuts were chilled (literally, they keep them on ice. I don't know what you were thinking...) I was hoping it would just blow by, but it started to rain harder so Mariana, of course, makes friends with a guy with an umbrella and we huddle under that while the two chat it up. We had the coconuts split so I tried to concentrate on scraping the coconut out instead of on the rain (and it was a good one, Murilo - not dried out at all!) The rain started to lighten a little, so Mariana decides it's better just to start the walk even if we get drenched, so off we go: brush the sand off our feet, thank Mariana's new friend #354, coerce Toby to start walking again, climb up the wall, climb back down the wall, go get my sandals, climb back up the wall, put the sunglasses/rain shield on, and we started walking.

Turns out there is a happy ending to this story: the rain let up 5 minutes into our walk back, the sun came back out and the water started sparkling, and the walk back seemed a little bit faster... possibly because Toby had already peed on all the trees, but none the less...

Pale-skinned sisters, listen up! You're being lied to...

It was a sad, rainy day yesterday, so when the sun woke us up today Mariana and I found ourselves excitement enough for a couple days. It might take me a couple posts to recount our adventures...

We wanted to run to the store real quick in order to pick up laundry soap, and because of the check out lines, we ended up spending about an hour at the store. Crazy! Mariana said that in Fortaleza, which is a much, MUCH bigger city than Maceio, there are no lines like that at the supermarket. Apparently Bompreco needs a little check-out reform. We met some interesting people while waiting in line, however. Mariana takes full advantage of her "senior citizen" status (she is not exactly senior, and even less so in mind) by using the check out line for mothers with children, pregnant women, disabled, and seniors. The check out line has seats along the waiting area, and I was sitting next to an elderly lady. After about five minutes she turns to me and says, "Voce nao e brasileira." (You are not Brasilian.) I laughed, nothing like being blunt!, and said "Nao, eu sou americana." (No, I am American) And that was that. Apparently I have no hope in blending in here. Ever. I decided to look at it positively, so have come to the conclusion that I'm exotic!!! Alright! White IS the new beautiful!! After growing up in a dutch community with dutch roots, I've discovered that society has been mistaken all these years! I am not typical, I'm unique! I'm striking! I'm exotic! I'm totally without hope of every looking like everyone else, here! It may put me at a higher risk of being robbed, but it also gives me a higher chance of capturing the attention of a tall, dark haired, handsome brazilian swim coach who almost has his MBA and has gorgeous eyes and an almost perfect nose who also works in the wine distribution industry... wait a second...

The penultimate lesson

Actually, hopefully not... I just wanted to use the word "penultimate." As I learn a new language, I'm also brushing up on my english. Could you define/use the words "hence" or "penultimate?" Guess who can now!?

Monday's cultural lesson: If you're wearing a bathing suit, you do not take the social elevator. Good (dirty) citizens take the service elevator.

We need more triangle!

Such a busy weekend! I'll try to catch up on all that happened:

Last night we went to a

restaurant that was new, Hivahoa, I think. The dance professor that we met on Saturday night told Kelson and Zairinha about the restaurant, so we went to check it out. It was this beautiful building, open to the night breezes with palm trees lit up all around. The professor told us there was going to be a "programa de forro" there, which turned out to be a little show of the traditional dance of the north, forro (said "fo-ho"). It was really cool! First there was a band with the traditional accordion, drum-cymbal

combination, and of course, the triangle. They all had on matching plaid shirts and little farm-type hats... all of them, that is, except for the triangle guy. He had no matching shirt and his hat was different. I'm pretty sure they just picked up some guy from the side of the street. I imagine the conversation went

something like this:

Hey, so you want to be in a band?

I've ALWAYS wanted to be in a band!!

What can you play?

Um, I'm really good at the finger cymbals, cow bell, egg shakers... um... oh, and I'm GREAT at the triangle!

Perfect! We're one triangle-guy short. Do you have a plaid shirt?

No, just this abercrombie-esq striped one.

Hm, well do you have a funny little rural hat?

As a matter of fact...

Great! Jump on in!

Anyway, that's how it would have gone if they had asked me. And I always have wanted to be in a band... The triangle guy wasn't as hard core as the rest of them. He made it through a couple songs and then sat down and drank beer while the others played on. After he was done he poured beer for the rest of them and then resumed triangle-ing. Maybe he was just nervous. It was his first time in front of the bright lights...

Anyway, after the band, a couple came out, and the girl could shake her skirt like no one I've ever seen. Then a group of like 10 kids in traditional dress (think traditional mexican with big skirts and less glitter) came and did a group dance to drums. Lastly, there was a couple who came out and did a type of comedy dance. The girl was dressed and danced like a rag doll and the guy threw her around. He would put her on different people in the audience (including Kelson), and then pull others out on the floor to dance. He gave one guy an actual life-sized rag doll and kept pulling people onto the floor. Mariana, of course, pushed me out there (I should see these things coming by now...) and we all held hands in a circle and group-jumped to the drums. The main guy then called for everyone to grab a partner, guy or girl, and we kind-of hopped side to side, and then we'd change, and change again, and change some more. The last person I ended up with was a guy who literally came up to my shoulder. And I was bending down.

The dancing was really cool to see. The professor showed up at some point during the night, and he is now new best friend of Mariana/Zairinha/Kelson, and Kelson also made friends with the owner of the restaurant. It is a cool little place!

Saturday we also ended up going to the beach, a place called Praia Gunga. We first drove up to this vista that was a coconut tree farm on one side and hill after rolling hill of sugar cane on the other. The vista overlooked the ocean and a giant river, and on the other side of the river was an expensive neighborhood where the politicians live. We drove down the little rutted road to the beach drove through the parking lot, but we

couldn't park there, oh no, Kelson pulled through the posts and pulled us up right next to the river.

(I told you he was excited to use his boat). We walked down the beach and Kelson talked to a couple people with their own boats, all pulled up onto the beach. By the time we caught up with him he looked very sad and dejected. Zairinha went to talk to him and as she did, her face fell as well. He was walking away from him as I walked up and when he walked away her expression turned from sadness to glee. She said "Gracias a Deus" (roughly, thank the Lord). Apparently there would be no boat-use that day.

Turns out the tide was too high, and the wind too strong for the little electric motor/inflatable boat. So we parked on the beach, river-side, and it was warm, gorgeous, sunny, sparkly, blah blah blah... A perfect beach day, per usual, in Maceio.

There you have it folks, our weekend in a nutshell. The light in all of this suffering: thanks to the triangle, my dream is ALIVE!!

Mariana wanted to dance...

Yesterday we went to a restaurant called Orakulo because Mariana wanted to dance. It was a beautiful brick building with tables to sit, a live band up front, and room to dance. Kelson's friend, Ricardo, came with us (I think he was Mariana's "date"). It was great to sit and listen to the music and watch people dance. The crowd was mostly older than Kelson and Zairinha, and some of them really went at it on the dance floor! The dance that night was a mix of slower and a couple faster samba-type songs. (I can't tell the difference between the beats - don't tell Kelson, he would be dissapointed ;) ) Mariana and Ricardo danced quite a bit, and Kelson took Zairinha and I both out for one song. It was fun to sit and watch the dances, they all seemed to know at least the basics of how to move, but some of the joy was robbed because it made me miss Murilo like crazy. I would have given quite a bit at that point in order to have him with me to sit and watch or dance with. Sigh... how many more days? One older gentleman (75 years old?) asked me to dance, but I said no because I only wanted to dance with Murilo.

Our favorite person to sit and watch was a local dance professor. He worked his way

around this table of older women and brought them all out to dance one by one. Some of the women were practically professionals themselves, and the ones that weren't quite there he taught how to dance - it was really fun to watch. As he took the last lady out Kelson leaned over and said, jokingly, to me, "you're ne

xt!" I laughed and said I only wanted to dance with Murilo, which didn't make it through the translation, so I said, "Murilo wouldn't like it." That was a mistake. His mom laughed and said, "he's a professional! It doesn't matter." I've never heard Kelson laugh so hard. Ricardo just shook his head, but Mariana got fired up. She marched over to me and shaking a stern finger said, "You WILL dance with him. He is a professional and Murilo would not care." And then she marched up to the teacher, had a couple words with him, and low an behold, I was pushed out onto the floor. He was a good teacher, and taught me how to dance quickly. The dance turned into a circle of old women going crazy - they were so much fun! He taught me how to dance

another song, and that one eventually turned into a line of women, and he taught us a couple different steps. I think I like Samba! I still only want one partner, though...