Friday, August 29, 2008

Minha Filha

We met our host families today. Each of us was given half a postcard and we were to find our mother who's postcard matched ours. At first all of us students shyly stood, wide-eyed and nervous, staring and these foreign women. The women returned our blank stares and bashful smiles also afraid to make the first move. They were equally anxious to meet the "child" that they had chosen and already started to love on paper. But suddenly we were all mingling.

My mother found me. Her name is Marla, she comes up to my shoulder and has dyed blond hair. She gave me a huge hug and would not let go of my hand as we walked around getting lunch from the buffet. Her husband lives in Japan and works as an Electrical Engineer. She has a 29 year old son who lives with her and works as a civil engineer. He is going to move to Angola come January to start work there.

Today she has treated me like a grandma who spoils her grandchild. She calls me "minha filha" which means my daughter. She speaks only a few words of broken so we have been stumbling through my portuguese to communicate. She took me to the mall to show me all the good bargain places (though it is really a fancy mall, because she is very wealthy so prices are like US stuff). Anyway, she insisted that she buy me a shirt as a gift. She chose out this sorta hideous red shirt with puffed sleeves and a large heart on the front and a low cut back with a bow. Its a little tight as well, but minha mae (my mom) insists that it looked beautiful on. It was also the cheapest shirt she had suggested for me to buy so i consented. And in a way I sort of like its rediculousness. She also was insistant I need a bikini. She wasnt pressuring me to buy one but we went to every single store (mind you this is the 3rd biggest mall in south america) to try on Brazilian bikinis. She also insisted I was a size medium, and was very skeptical when I wanted to try on a large. There Nothing like breaking the ice and warming up to someone than trying on/showing off too small bikinis. Especially when the girls working at the store wanted to look and give their opinion too. Luckily what my mom would have fainted to see on me, they said looked beautiful and fit me well. I refused to buy the 90 Real ones (60 bucks) and finally 6 stores later settled on a simple black and white one that was on sale for 30 Reals (20 bucks). It was also more conservative that the others because rather than being just a bandeau, it has a neck strap and the bottom isnt just string and small peice of cloth in front and back, it resembles a VERY VERY itty bitty bikini bottom. Anyway, minha mae is just a sweetheart. She also fed me some delicious chocolate cake she made. It was soooo good.

The apartment is beautiful too. I have my own room that is so cute and the veiw from the 13th floor is amazing too.

Well, thats all for now, Im exhausted. My brain is swollen from the portuguese overload of the day. I think it will be day and night of a difference a week from now as to how well i can communicate.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Arriving in Brazil

Brazil is the combination of every country I have ever visited/imagined. As we drove in a Taxi from the airport, the open street shops (slightly run down, with white painted cement and various random posters) reminded me of the streets of Nicaragua or Mexico. The traffic laws however, remind me more of China (where two cars share one lane side by side) and the bustling feel of the dense population reminds me of Shanghai as well. Once we reached the ocean, i am sure that this is what Cuba is supposed to look like--the most gorgeous expanse of turquoise water streaches out and perfect white waves crash on small sandy beaches. The tropical laid back feel and the carribean music (which I didnt actually hear, but can clearly imagine). The large grassy feilds that scatter the highway where dark skinny boys play impromptu soccer is exactly how I imagine parts of africa. There are also large Pracas (squares) that litter the city which remind me of large Russian Parks in Moscow.

Anyway, Salvador (the part that I have explored thus far), has very few tourists and Portuguese is the ONLY language spoken. My portuguese is severely limited but far more advanced than anyone else's on the program so of course I have been enjoying trying to communicate. The people here are very friendly and love to carry the conversation on even though it is evident no one understands. I foresee my Portuguese improved by leaps and bounds in a very short amount of time.

I have only been here less than 12 hours and already much has transpired...but I'll leave that for another day. Tomorrow I get to meet my host family and move in with them.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Getting Ready to Go

As this weekend draws to a close, I can no longer deny the proximity of my departure to Brazil. August was laced with little road marks--the SF half marathon, Rani's return from Guatemala, Alexis' departure to Hamburg, my parent's departure to Denmark/Germany, my trip to LA, Galit's (a friend from Israel) visit, my last day of work--each lined the road like exit signs on the freeway. Their miles counting down and now, even if I slammed on my brakes, my trip to Brazil is basically here. There still remain a few notable landmarks between now and Wednesday (I am going to be in a Cal fashion show on Monday, and my dad returns from Denmark on Tuesday) but I think that the next few days will pass in a blur.

The more people tell me that I will have so much fun, the more nervous I get. I know not what to expect. As I try to draw an image of what the experience will be like, the canvas in my mind stays blank. So we shall see. By Thursday, I bet, it will look as though somone kicked an entire palate of paint onto it.

Three days to go...