“EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE WHILE YOU'RE ALIVE”

This past week has been pretty crazy, but in a good way.  I waited a month without hearing back from any English School, to find this week four offer me positions. After a lot of jumping back and forth between options, teaching methods, trainings, introductions, payment discussions, hours, and even considering opening my own private lessons, I finally have a decision I can report. I am officially an Adult and Teen English Teacher for a British School here in Indaiatuba, ICB  (Instituto Cultural Britanico).

It was the owner of this school who made the decision easy for me. Meeting Karen for the first time was refreshing. She is Brazilian, but having spent the last 10 years living in England she is pretty close to European in my book.  You really wouldn’t ever know she was Brazilian unless she told you.  She dresses British, looks British (pretty with thick long blonde hair), and although I am no expert as to the correct pronunciation of a British accent, I certainly can’t hear any difference. Her husband lived in England for 10 years as well, and their adorable 5 year old daughter Bella (which embarrassingly reminds me of Twilight) was actually born there. 

Although England and the US of course have different cultures, when comparing them to that of Brazil, they feel quite similar.  So for now, Karen is the closest I’m going to have to an American friend. And I’ll take it. 

She is exactly the kind of person I like to be friends with.  She is motivated, responsible but adventurous, outgoing, hard working, friendly, honest, chatty, business oriented, optimistic, and just generally excited about life.  We are similar in a lot of ways and we liked each other immediately.  We mutually agree that fate (or something similar) brought us together.

Perhaps more importantly, Karen manages time in the same way Americans do.  The day I met her she offered me the job on the spot and told me she would call the next morning, and when she called the next afternoon she apologized for not having called in the morning.  I cannot stress how much trust this simple action provides.  With the other schools, they kept changing my hours and even my salary.  They were so unreliable that I couldn’t feel secure with any ‘final’ decision we came to.  But it's different with Karen.  She is also actively and persistently pursuing achieving my work visa.  She hired a lawyer and as of two nights ago I have given her all the documents for us to get started.  Working for her is opening a lot of doors for me here, and really makes me feel more at home. 

The school also just has a much better presentation than the others.  It's clean and spacious and the walls are covered floor to ceiling in larger than life photos of England and English bands like Cold Play and The Beatles.  Not to mention that the woman working at the counter greeting your entrance is really friendly.  When I first met her it was impossible not to notice her beauty, absolutely perfect skin, hair, eyebrows and a great smile. 

Thiara Palmieri

I was later informed that the pretty counter girl (Karen’s partner) used to be a very famous actress here in Brazil, Thiara Palmieri.  At first I thought maybe they were exaggerating, but later that night, I told Jaqueline and Karebbe (Daniel's brother in law) about the school and the name of the supposed famous actress. They knew her instantly.  Apparently she was on this huge soap opera here in Brazil (soap operas in Brazil are far more famous than the soap operas in the US).  Karebbe showed me a clip from one of her shows, and a bunch of photos of her the web.  She was ligitametly famous, I mean like her wedding is on the news, she was intervewed while pregnant for a tv show, everyone knows her whole life story kind of famous. It’s weird how every country is at least familiar the US celebrities but we really don’t know anything about those in other countries.  Since I'm not familiar with her fame she still doesn't really feel famous to me, which is nice because it makes it easier for us to be friends.

I actually find fame a bizarre concept in general.  I mean the media portrays them in such as way we forget they are people.  We follow their actions and judge their decisions as if we actually know anything about it, and of course as if whatever is portrayed is even the real story.  We see photos of Britney spears shaving her head and Lindsey Lohan passed out in some car plasterd across the cover of every magazine in the grocery line, and we think oh “what a screwed up girl, oh god she’s really gone crazy!”.  But I feel differently.  I mean the truth is I don’t know them either so it’s very likely they are actually screwed up and crazy, but jeez I mean, they are living under a microscope!  Imagine if every embarrassing moment you've experienced, every bad outfit choice, everytime you fell in public, every time someone dumped you or cheated on you, ever time you drank too much at a party and did something stupid, and then have all the world replaying those videos, photos and breakups over and over constantly drilling you about the details.  To be honest, I'd probably shave my head and drink till I pass out in a car as well. But maybe that’s just me.

Speaking of how bizarre fame is, being a Califonian native gives me a similar celebrity status.  Its very uncomfortable actually.  Everyone treats me like a celebrity, and that since I am a real American I obviously represent the entire country of the US and that I must know everything about it.  They ask me all kinds of questions, about life there, how people dress, brands of clothes, how much a computer costs, about TV shows I have never heard of,  even about a specific donut or coffee shop in Manhattan.  I  have to constantly remind them that I’m from California and that the US is really big and although I have visited NYC I really can’t provide any information as to some coffee shop downtown they saw in a movie.   I tell them that even within California, from North to South things are really different, and I can see their eyes widen in awe.  

The way people idolize the American culture and English is really bizarre to me, and even seems kind of unhealthy.   They are so super embarrassed to talk to me, actually shaking and stuttering from insecurity.  And everyone apologizes constantly for not saying the right thing, or that their English isn’t perfect. I get frustrated, because it’s so silly that they feel the need to apologize for this.  I am in their country and I barely speak their language, so if anyone should be apologizing it should be me.  Them feeling bad just makes me feel bad, I try to make them feel more comfortable but nothing so far seems to help.


Part of the problem is that speaking English here isn’t just about the language, it’s a status symbol.  If you speak English, it means first off that you had enough money to pay for private lessons, and then means you will also get a better job, therefore speaking English for a Brazilian is synonomous with money and a high social class.  It’s a bit humorous actually since my students actually have so much more money than me, yet because I’m a native English speaker I hold a higher status than them.  It doesn’t feel right, that the language I have done absolutely no work to learn earns me an undeserving superior role in society.  But I suppose thats the case for many high socialites in the US as well.

Brazilian Currency: 'Reais'.
Pronounced: he-eyes.

When Daniel and I were at the bank this week, once the bank teller had heard us speaking English and noticed I was American, he instantly changed his tone of voice.  He started calling Daniel ‘sir’ and being overly helpful asking if there was anything else he could assist with and giving more than enough information and details about the account.  Daniel said this isn't normal behavior for ordinary customers, and that he assumed Daniel and I have a lot of money.  Again, if you know Daniel and my financial situation than this should be rather humorous to you as well.  

Karen said its even more than just a status.  She said there are students at the school that pay a lot of money for lessons and then only come for half of them.  She said that telling people you are taking english classes is a “posh” kind of thing to do withitn itself.  So people want to enroll to say they are learning, even if they aren’t really. 

With all that said, it is pretty clear to me that combining Karen, a fluent English speaker with much knowledge and life in England (most English teachers here have never even been abroad), combined with Thiara an ex-celebrity, combined with me, a Californian Native, makes for a pretty unbeatable team.  The school just opened a couple months ago, and after the first week of free trial we have 100% enrollment.  The school has a lot of potential, and the really exciting part is that since I’m the first teacher to be hired, I get to have a say in how things happen. 

I taught all last week, and I'm loving it.  The school teaches with the Callan method, where you only speak English in the classroom, never translate anything into Portuguese (which is obviously perfect for me). Its very little grammar oriented, just the basics to be familiar with the structure. But essentially I just get to have conversations about whatever I want in the class, joke and laugh and talk about politics or religion as long as I just include the few vocabulary words in the lesson, and correct them when the speak.  This is basically what I do all day anyway, with Daniel when we have conversations I still teach him new words and correct him, so I'm getting paid to just chat with people my age and older.  

My favorite class so far in with students in their 30’s and 40’s.  They are the most focused and motivated to learn.  They aren’t embarrassed or nervous to talk to me.  They don’t have any problems tyring to speak, they want to be called on to answer questions because they want to learn.  Many of the teens are so intimidated by me they told their parents they would rather learn English from a Brazilian, and one girl complained because she felt I didn’t compliment her on her accent as much as the others.  Just to give you an idea of how sensitive they can be about this. But the adults, no, I can tell they know they are getting more than their money’s worth and feel really fortunate to have a native teacher.

Side of an abandoned
building in Sao Paulo. 

All of this is of course is really great, but I have kept the best information for last.  Karen has asked me to start my own art school within the English school!  When Karen asked me about this, she honestly didn’t know if I would even be interested.  I looked at her with overwhelming excitement and said that OF COURSE I was interested, and I would have choosen teaching art over teaching English, but didn’t really think it was possible to do it here. Then she looked at me with sincere utter suprise and said, “OHHH Seren!? Everything is possible while you are alive!”. And she is absolutely right!!

I’m so so excited about the art. Apparently she pays for her daughter to take lessons, and said after she saw my website she realized how much she had been wasting her money, and at the very least wanted to pay me to teach her daughter.  Then Thiara said she felt the same way about her son.  Now, including their children, we have a class of six for me to start teaching in the next week or two.

We sat down to talk about figures, and I will receive 50% of all the profit which considering Karen and Thiara have to split the other 50%, I’m feeling very good about it.  And I know it’s kind of tacky to be talking about money but 50% of the profit, even after converting to US dollars is more than 4 times the amount I made per hour in the US.  So it’s a lot of money.  For now it’s only four hours a month, but if the art class is successful, Karen wants to add on more.

I’m kind of nervous actually, nervous excited.  I get to deveop everything, I get to completely plan and run my own lessons, choose my materials, my subject matter, my everything.  For right now I will just be teaching ages 3-5, but if all goes well, there will be older kids and maybe teens and adults later on.  I will be teaching in English and I get my own room that she said I can go crazy with and even let them paint on the walls!  Its exciting but a lot of pressure but I'm definitely qualified to do this and I know I can make it work.  

WATER PARKS AND WHIRLWINDS

Lying on the kitchen floor, totally soaked, barely holding my computer above water, really wasn’t how I had expected the day would go.  Although with all the recent events around here, I have to admit that I couldn’t be that surprised.

The morning had actually been rather successful. I woke up early and went with Daniel and his sister to the office to call English schools.  There were already a lot of customers waiting at the office, so while Daniel dealt with things, I patiently waited reading my book in Portuguese (which I’ve read 70 pages of by the way). With the way things work here, I was prepared to be waiting for a long time, very possibly through the afternoon.

If you have never lived in a Latin country before, understanding the way time works would be rather difficult.  (Or as a friend who is currently moving to Thailand kindly reminded me, it is in many countries in the world, not just Latin America in which the pace is so different).  It isn’t like in the United States.  Things don’t start when they say they will, people are certainly not ever early to anything, and if someone gives you any sort of timeline, whether it’s that the food you ordered will be ready in 20 minutes, or the housing agency saying your apartment will be ready by Monday, you can be certain of one thing and one thing only, that the timeline they gave you is one hundred percent utter bullshit.  So, if I had to choose one characteristic most necessary for living in Brazil, I think it would be flexibility. 

           

It isn’t adjusting to a different schedule; it is adjusting to NO schedule, which is far more difficult. In the US things work very systematically.  It's difficult for us to imagine not having a bus schedule because that would mean we wouldn’t know when we would be at work, which of course means we could be late. But if we make being late to work acceptable, or possibly just a non-issue, then we would no longer need the bus schedule…and so this continues. 

In some ways it's quite charming; no one is ever in a rush, or stressed, everyone and everything far more relaxed.  But sometimes I still feel like just shaking them and saying, CAN’T WE JUST GET TO WORK?!  Particularly when it comes to my still unsettled house search, or my finding a job.  

When applying for jobs in the US, if they say they will let you know in two weeks, then thats when you'll know.  If they tell you the food will take about 15 minutes, it probably will, and if a housing agency says you will have the house by Monday then you might even have it Sunday. 

A photo I took in the center of the most populated city in Brazil,
Sao Paulo.  There are more people living in this city than any city
in the United States, including NYC.  Can you imagine this tree
 in the center of Manhattan?

Here, everything takes a lot more patience, which admittedly is not one of my known attributes.  The schools here said they would call the week I contacted them (which was my first week here), two weeks later I was still waiting.  Then eventually one school called to set up an interview, then canceled the interview, then said they would call the next day to set up another interview.  Then never called.  Then, yesterday morning, while I was calling the other schools I had applied to, the school I didn’t call, called to tell me I actually already had the job and had classes, and no longer needed an interview.  Which is really great!! So, I'll stop complaining.  

I was finally feeling great about the way things were going, I was so excited that I had a job (almost officially), I was getting a better grasp on the way things work, and my Portuguese had made notable improvements.

Later that day, when Daniel and I went home for lunch, the kitchen was a mess, so Daniel showed me how to start the dishwasher before heading back to work.  I had the rest of the afternoon figured out, starting with looking up the unknown words in my dictionary and ending with my appointment at the English school that had offered me a position…assuming they don’t cancel. 

Soon, my computer was dying, and Daniel had taken my adapter to the office.  Which meant the only adapter I had for my computer was the one used for the dishwasher in the kitchen.  (I'd like to add that oddly enough, not all Brazilian plugs are the same, so even Brazilians need adapters for their own appliances.) 

I walked into the kitchen with my laptop open, still looking at the Portuguese English translation site, not paying any attention to my surroundings.  Suddenly, I felt my feet swept from under me and slipped onto the Kitchen floor, lying in water about a half-inch deep, flowing through the kitchen.  The backs of my clothes and hair were now soaked.  Very luckily, I had magically kept my computer from actually touching the water.  

Lying there with the water still pouring out of the dishwasher, in complete disbelief of what had just happened, I was reminded of a odd and seemingly insignificant memory from high school.  


I was watching some teen chick-flick with a friend.  It was a typical teen film where it starts with some 'unpopular' girl getting ready for school, with everything just not working out for her, showing what miserably bad luck she has, while playing some overplayed 90’s pop song.  (And of course ends with her getting the most popular guy at school and everyone living happily ever after.)   I really don't know why I even remember this, but while the character in the film was about to be late to school and finally get out the door, she dropped a whole glob of toothpaste all over her carefully picked out blouse. Which is when my friend said, “That stuff never happens in real life! I mean in all the times I have brushed my teeth I have never spilt toothpaste all down my shirt.” I remember sitting there watching the character stressed and late to school because of that damn toothpaste, all the while thinking, really?  That kind of stuff happens to me...all the time! 


Lying with my back in water on a kitchen floor in Brazil, holding my laptop above my head, made me think of that friend and what she would say if she could see this right now.  

After unplugging the dishwasher and changing my clothes I was too frustrated to attempt to clean the kitchen, especially since at this point I couldn’t be trusted to do it myself, so I dried off and went straight to Daniel’s office.

His sister and brother in law laughed and laughed at the story and how absolutely ridiculous and impossible things have been for me lately.  I couldn’t help but break out laughing as well, it really is quite funny. They said it was like some kind of sitcom, “As Aventuras de Seren no Brasil” (The Adventures of Seren in Brazil) which has now become our ongoing inside joke.  Then Daniel's sister, Jacqueline, and I drove home to clean the kitchen together.

It still amazes me how much you can know about someone without actually talking to them.  I mean so much of understanding comes from things other than language; behavior, facial expressions, attitude, energy, body language. You don’t need to understand what someone is saying to know if they’re outgoing or timid, judgmental or accepting, funny or serious, kind or rude. First impressions are not always accurate, but they still have very little to do with actually speaking.  Upon meeting Daniel’s sister, Jacqueline, I knew instantly that she was a kind, extroverted, accepting and funny person, even though I couldn't understand anything she said.  And now that my Portuguese was good enough to actually converse with her, I was only reassured that my previous observations had been accurate. 

After dancing, laughing and singing along to music while wiping counters and washing dishes in the kitchen, it was time to clean the floor.  Without warning, Jacqueline filled up some large buckets of water and soap and just dumped them all over the floor.  The waves of water washed through the kitchen, through the laundry room, into the bathroom, splashing against the wall and flowing back.  The water rushed over my feet, almost to my ankles.  She did this again and again.  I’ve never seen this much water in a kitchen before.  

Daniel's sister, Jacqueline

I must have had a very confused look on my face because Jacque (her nickname) just looked at me laughing, telling me it’s common in Brazil.  That didn’t really explain much.  I mean, what is common?  Flooding the apartment?  How is she going to get rid of all this water?  I mean this was a LOT of water, we aren’t talking like we can use some rags or a mop to soak this up, seriously, where is this all going to go?? We are on the third floor of an apartment building, isn’t this going to go out the front door, into the hall and into the next apartment? Wouldn't this be…I don’t know…NOT a good idea? 

She threw me an old and very ragged broom with plastic bristles and showed with hand gestures to scrub the floors with it, and then walked past me, reached down into the water and opened something in the floor.  It was a drain.  I hadn’t even noticed it before, the whole room was just like a shower, except in the kitchen, and the laundry room and bathroom, all of which were now flooded with water. 

It is brilliant actually, we just scrub the corners and edges of the floors with brooms, then she pours more water, and we continue the process with no worries because it will all just rush down the drain. It was easy and efficient, but mostly it was just so much fun! I told her how cool I thought it was and we laughed and laughed talking about it.  I can tell she is enjoying seeing me discover things here for the first time, which makes me enjoy it even more.  She said when her and Daniel were kids, they used to help their mom clean the floor of their garage, sliding, splashing, and playing in the water, just like a water park.  

I couldn’t help but wonder how we were keeping the water from flowing through the rest of the apartment, this was all so new to me.  So I asked her how the water was remaining in just the kitchen, and she responded by saying 'the door'.  But as far as I'm concerned doors don't keep water out, so I asked what was keeping it from going under the door.  

As a reminder, all this is happening in Portuguese, so truthfully, with translation, I really said something like, “But water no go under door… to all of house…why water not problem?” 

Then she showed me that the kitchen was actually slightly lower than the rest of the flooring (which is all tile since the weather is too hot for carpeting). We spent over an hour in the kitchen, dancing to music scrubbing the floors and kicking around water.  It was truly a blast! I had more fun talking and cleaning the kitchen with Jaque than I had all day!  

At night I went to the English school and now I officially HAVE A JOB! (which yes does warrant capitals and bold letters)

Tonight I am sitting in on a lesson and will start training tomorrow. I can't wait to start working there, and am feeling so excited about everything else as well!
Oh-and Happy International Women's Day!

A NOT SO SILENT WEEK

March 4^th, 2012

I feel somewhat obligated to write about this week’s stress and emotional breakdowns.  Otherwise I could be misleading you into thinking that life in Brazil is nothing but this easy going wonderful paradise where I can celebrate Carnival, travel, eat exotic foods and watch soccer all day (although that last aspect wouldn’t exactly be included in my ideal paradise).

Full emersion and adapting to another country is always difficult, and traveling always takes its toll. My year in Europe was one of the most wonderful times of my life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, but it was also a lot of work.  Fortunately however it trained me well for my current struggle here in Brazil.  Before coming, I didn’t know what life would be like in Brazil or how it would feel to live here, or how I would adapt, or even if I would like it.  But I did know what it was like to move to a country where I knew none of these things, which in itself brought me comfort.  I had anticipated the events of this week and the stress it would cause, but of course anticipating anxiety or stress doesn’t really release much of the feeling when you are actually in it. 

March 3^rd 2012 Journal Entry:

Ugh, things have been so freaking difficult lately.  I’m so frustrated because I don’t know how to do anything!! Yesterday was awful, just one thing after another of me feeling so helpless and out of place.  I feel like a baby or like I'm handicapped! I can’t be left alone for more than 10 minutes without needing help.

Yesterday when I woke up and tried to take a shower, the hot water wasn’t working, neither was my computer, or the fan (which is a necessity in this heat).  The electricity was out, which in itself would only be mildly frustrating, but on top of all the other crap it felt tiresome. 

When I answered the intercom, a man was talking so fast and I couldn’t understand anything.  I kept saying in Portuguese that I was sorry but I didn’t understand, asking him to speak slower and trying to find out who he was, but I couldn’t understand any of his responses.  Finally I heard him say “luz….something something….luz…something something”.  I did know 'luz' meant light, so I figured it was probably an electrician.  I told him I’d come downstairs, thinking it would be easier to talk face to face, using hand gestures and what not.  But it wasn’t.  I still didn’t understand at all what the two men were talking about.  I haven’t been that clueless since I've been here.  I get myself around the city just fine, ordering food, asking for directions and carrying on any simple conversation. But he kept trying to give me some documents that I was supposed to sign…I think?  I just shook my head telling him I didn’t know what they were and didn’t want to sign them, but he kept trying to explain what they were, of course I still couldn’t understand, and the cycle continued. 

While standing there with those two electricians I just kept telling myself, “Seren just understand what they are saying! You can do this!! It’s not that hard, just beathe and think and you’ll understand!  You know the context of the conversation, electricity, that should make it easy to follow, what are the possible subjects they are talking about, you understood 'luz' so listen for another word you know…think of how to ask a yes or no question to narrow down the possibilities…don't get stressed, just stay calm, calmness will help you understand, focus. Just think and speak, think and speak, think and speak!” I tried so hard to will my way into comprehension but of course, language doesn’t really work that way.   

Finally the three of us agree, meaning through facial expressions, that the conversation is going nowhere because I clearly don’t have a clue as to what the hell is happening.  So I go back inside the apartment, where the electricity was now working.  Great.  But was still feeling frustrated and embarrassed by the encounter and my inability to communicate.

Everyday this week had been increasingly more and more stressful.  The day before this, I was locked in the house all day, because there was something stuck in the lock from the inside of the door, and could only be opened from the outside.  While stuck in the house I spent forever just trying to find sugar for the coffee I wanted to make. I searched every cabinet and place in the kitchen finding a lot of different white substances, all of which very interesting but none of which were sugar. Finally after asking for help from a family member who was currently on skype chat, I found the sugar...but of course, I couldn’t work the espresso machine, because the freaking handle was jammed!

I've been feeling helpless all week. I don’t know where to find scissors , or a pen, or how to turn on the TV, or where to find batteries for the remote, or a strainer for my pasta, or oil for cooking, or a rag for the water I spilt or ANYTHING!  Not to mention the still daily battle with the keys and locks on this freaking door!  It’s like every little thing is just so much harder to do! And something that should be really simple like making pasta, becomes a full day event.  And I’m SO TIRED OF NOT KNOWING WHAT IS GOING ON!

The rest of that day with the electricians just got worse. Daniel had gotten caught up with something at work which stuck me waiting for 2 and a half hours for him.  Then later,  I ended up walked around the city in extreme heat, which has been up to 98 degrees this week, which with added humidity basically equals me walking around in my own sweat for hours.

At the end of the day, I was really on edge.  I just wanted to go in the house, eat and go to sleep to wake up to a new day, one with less difficulty, perhaps one where everyone magically spoke English and I knew where everything was and how it all worked?  Then, once again I was locked out for over an hour because someone had locked the wrong lock, to which I do not have a key, AGAIN.  At that point, with my key in the door, NOT WORKING, I broke down in tears.

The silver lining however, even with all the stress this week, is that my frustration combined with my natural resilience and determination made for a great come back.  After my emotional breakdown I became even more motivated to learn this language. I realized that in order for me to be independent here I need to be able to understand and speak Portuguese.  So the hardcore studying has begun.  I bought a notebook, wrote down over 100 verbs and their conjugations in both past and present, teaching myself through online sites and studying for hours the regular and irregular verbs, memorizing as much as possible. 

I am speeding through my notecards and have memborized hundreds of vocabulary words.  I am obsessively paying attention to conversations, asking about the words I don't understand.  And perhaps the most evidence of my persistence is that after reading the two English books I brought here (which with all my waiting and getting locked out, I have finished much faster than anticipated), I bought a small childrens book in Portuguese. I read the first chapter without looking up any words, then looked up all the words I didn’t know, wrote them in, and read it again. I will do this for every chapter in this book, I will learn all 1000 of my Portuguese verb and vocabulary cards, and DAMNIT I WILL LEARN PORTUGUESE!

FUTEBOL

Apparently keeping up with soccer is a full time job in Brasil.  It’s impressive actually.  I honestly didn’t even know there were this many soccer games going on in the world.

It’s almost like a social network here, everyone knows what’s going on, is watching the same games, and therefore is all on the same wavelength.  Everywhere you go you can start up a conversation about the game last night, or this morning or this afternoon or the game coming up tomorrow, or all of the above.  Not to mention that most places are, of course, playing the games on their televisions. 

So don’t worry because if you are at work, you can always check online for the score, and when you take your lunch break you can watch it pretty much anywhere you go.  Or at the very worst, if you really can’t watch it at all, you certainly still don’t need to worry because if a team scores, you will, without fail, hear someone scream “GOOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLL!!!!” from at least one home or business on the street.  It’s like a city of soccer 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  Like The Truman Show, this thing that everyone is in on and everyone is watching…all the time.

If you leave to get a sandwich, the sandwich booth guy is watching the game, along with everyone on the street.  If your team looses, you don’t answer your phone because you know it’s your brother’s friend's somebody who was rooting for the other team just waiting to rub it in your face. And when you meet people for the first time you have to ask what team they root for, because that obviously defines who they are. 

About a month ago, my mom was hosting a Brazilian exchange student whom of course I told that I had a Brazilian boyfriend and would be moving to Brazil.   His third question, after asking what city I would be going to and when, was to know what team Daniel roots for.  At that time, I did not know the answer to this question.  Which yes, now realizing I just spent four paragraphs ranting about how important this game is here, I am now embarrassed by my previous ignorance.  

So, in case you are Brazilian and DYING to know, Daniel has a team he roots for for every country he has lived in.  For Brazil, he roots for Sao Paulo, for Spain he roots for Real Madrid, and for Italy he roots for Milan. 

I had already thought the obsession with soccer here was a little excessive, and then a few days ago I found out something that really just put it over the edge.  Apparently all the times I have seen Daniel watching soccer games, or as they call it ‘futebol’, he was often actually watching two at the same time on television, and following another two or three on his computer.  Yes you added that up right, FIVE. I mean talk about devotion. 

Eventually I had to ask Daniel what they do in off season.  He paused for a while and then said, “…nothing…we wait” and then laughed hysterically.
Probably because it’s true.   

The other day my father sent me an email with an article, “10 Things You Probably Didn’t Know About Brazil”, by Jessica Festa.  #5. Brazil’s soccer team is the only team in the world that has participated in every World Cup. 

I may not have known this specific statistic, but it CERTAINLY doesn’t surprise me. And in case you were interested, they have won five of those world cups. 

To recap:

LIFE IN BRASIL = SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER SOCCER