MY ARRIVAL

Friday 2/10/2012

The last two days have truly been awful.  From the time I arrived at SFO to the time I was in a bed in Indaiatuba, I had been traveling for 35 hours, with little sleep, nausea, and a terrible headache.  During my 3^rd flight, from Panama to Brazil, I was feeling so awful I was beginning to wonder why I put myself through this.  Although, being with Daniel no more than 10 minutes made it all worth it. 

It was awkward at first of course, as it always is after not having seen him for a long time. We live so intimate for so many months, sharing an apartment, sleeping together every night, and then suddenly with no tapering off, we are countries apart for that same amount of time, and then back together, practically inseparable, all over again. 

Instantly after exiting the airport I became painfully aware of how different the climate is, and how although I had mentally prepared for it to be hot, thinking of all the hot places I have been in the world, nothing compared to this.  It was the middle of the night and the air was so moist my body began to sweat.  Every step felt like I was walking with a heavy wet blanket draped over my body. 

We still had a couple hour drive ahead of us to Indaiatuba.  Driving at night, I had difficulty getting an idea of my surroundings.  Yet, regardless of my exhaustion, I remained glued to the window too curious to look away.  I had lost all sense of direction.  Sao Paulo is so large, it was as though we just made circles and circles seemingly impossible to be going in any one direction. 

I can’t say that I was surprised to see the way people drive, it is similar to that of Mexico, Egypt and even some places in Europe.  Lanes do not exist, blinkers do not exist, yet everyone seems to find the right path…at least for now.  I like to think of it like walking. On a busy sidewalk we do not have our own lanes nor do we give any hand signals to tell others our direction, yet most of the time no one is crashing and falling into one another.

At one point Daniel took a turn and suddenly we were stuck in a lot of traffic, above the traffic we could see these huge floats covered in plastic being pushed over the overpass by maybe a hundred men or more.  Daniel recognized some of the guys from a well known Samba School in the city.  I suddenly felt fortunate I had taken my “Dance in World Cultures Class” my last semester at SDSU, where I had written a long research paper on the Samba, inclusive of the history of Brazilian politics and culture.  I knew a lot about the Samba Schools, and all that goes into the Carnival, which made seeing it first hand all that more exciting.