Why Brazil is more exciting than Britain

So, I'm walking around a park with some students who are learning English. We are talking about British traditions and religious festivals. Easter comes up, as does lent. Their confused faces should possibly signal that this conversations isn't really happening and perhaps we should move on to something else....so obviously, I continue with pancake day.

The conversation goes something like this:

Me: We have pancake day, when people eat loads of pancakes and then they give something up ...

them: (laughing lots) Pancakes? Pancakes?

Me: yes - it starts at the beginning of lent and then lent ends with eating lots of chocolate eggs.

them: (still confused) ahhh...yes...chocolate eggs. Pancakes?

Me: Yes...it is usually in February.

them: (still laughing and confused). Oh February. We have Carnival.

Enough said really...

..and they say the Brits don't like confrontation...

 

Brazilians are lovely. Generalising there but it is er... generally true. There are lovely people everywhere – always seem to be so pleased to see you even when or especially when you say you can’t speak Portuguese and also appear delighted when you stumble trying to buy a loaf of bread. They never make me feel stupid (although I do feel stupid). They are amazingly helpful, or they would be if I could understand what they are saying – I’m assuming it’s not abuse. They are usually smiling.

Now, those who know me might say that I sometimes lack subtlety. Some have said blunt or maybe just plain rude on some occasions but this has not come out here. This can’t come out here because  what I am beginning to realise is Brazilians are terrified or offending you.

I’ve lived in shared houses where people can’t talk to each other about the fact they need them to stop using something of their's so passive aggressive notes are left all over the place – we all hate awkwardness so we avoid saying things face to face. In our apartment, a note was not used to ask us not to use the phone, instead, the phone was disconnected while our landlady went away – the phone had been made so unusable that all wires had been removed and hidden.

Obviously this did my head in – did she not trust us? Why not? Why would she rent out her house to people she didn’t trust?

G, a fellow European explained it to me. Everyone is so lovely that don’t seem to know how to say something that might not make you happy. She explained that in one situation, the phrase ‘stay as long as you want’ actually ended up meaning ‘please leave’ but it took her a while to work this out as it ain’t that obvious. I guess you need to look at things realisticly…or maybe learn how to read minds..

What is the worst can happen in a swimming pool (ladies)?

 

So I’ve found the only swimming pool in Ouro Preto – a small place, which only allows you entry if you book in advance so to avoid too many people at once. What is helpful is there is someone there to coach you into improving your technique so this person will naturally need to spend time watching how you swim.

Great – brilliant. I need to improve my front crawl and you never get that at home. Bit annoying that I’ve left my swimming costume at home though but no fear (famous last words) I have my tankini that I bought from Primark three years ago – slightly too small but more appropriate than a bikini (that actually fits properly)?

 Not more appropriate than a well fitting bikini actually. I bought said tankini because I had a complex about my tummy. Not because I wanted to do some actual proper swimming in it. When your tits look like they are going to fall out anyway front crawl is certainly not the action you need to take to keep them in.

The HORROR. 

Did he see? God please no please no – he did mention that my swimming cap was slightly falling off…he didn’t mention anything else. I’m going to assume that he either didn’t see or he did and he has an excellent poker face.

*shudder*

Five days with the Lanas

I spent five days with a family who I have become firms friends - the Lanas. Included in this family were two children aged five and two. Their mother is French, their father is Brazilian and they converse in English. This means that they speak three languages. The two year old can speak more languages than I can! This makes me feel somewhat inadequate. Something clearly needs to be done.

Anyway, family is made up of G (my age, lady ), C (aged two and a half) and L (aged five ). They are lovely people who have welcomed me into their home after only having known me for about five days. Their house has a beautiful view, a lovely dog and a sub zero temperature which has had me sleeping in 2 jumpers. 

G is my age. She likes eating cheese and drinking wine. We get on very well which I am very grateful for - my Portuguese is completely crap so making friends is not hugely easy, and I am not working and neither is she. 

Anyway, here is what my five days of them consisted of:

Hanging out with children...constantly.

So as I said, L is 5...very bright, very cheeky, likes to hide my book while I go to the toilet and show me her 'babies'(dolls or any toy at hand or her 2 year old sister).

C is 2. She is a wide eyed mini person who likes to shriek a lot. She has a side line in 'painting' or rather colouring in my nails with a felt tip pen. 

Not having children myself, I have become quite overwhelmed with just how much energy it takes to keep L and C entertained - because you see, they can play as much as they like but they like it more when you pay attention. ('look Kizzie! Look Kizzie! Look Kizzie!).

 I think perhaps the most concerning game that was played is when I was 'locked' in prison (C's cot) because I had stolen a baby because my other baby had died in a fire. L has a darker mind than the writers of Eastenders. While L (Kat Moon) told me off constantly telling me (Ronnie Mitchell) that I would never EVER escape, C acted as the nasty prison guard chucking things at me (an additional character not originally involved in the Eastenders storyline) . Then dinner was ready so it was OK. Games have become a bit less heavy since then. Think L was coming down with something...

The Lana's house sits on a very steep hill above the town. It feels like you're in the countryside. Here are some pics and views from their house.

What The MIster has been up to - the geology bit

 

The mister has just come back from five days in 'the field'. As far as I can tell from his reports, is that this involved consuming a shit load of beer, meat and exchanging swear words - oh and looking at rocks obviously - he did mention something potentially exciting to do with meteorites earlier but I couldn't really repeat it.

 He also described Brasila as similar to Milton Keynes but worse. I'm not sure I can imagine such a concept actually. He described Milton Keynes as 'pleasant' in comparison. Can you imagine? No offence to Milton Keyners but lordy lord. Similar but with less road signs, chaotic traffic, highways and intersections everywhere. 

Oh and he say a Toucan! Like those birds in picture books with a long beak. Also he saw lots of small owls.  That is very exciting. Please see picture below. I have seen big ants, caterpillars, big beetles and massive spiders. Not so exciting. There are not pictures of those. Most of them are pretty minging so I didn't bother. 

                                                     Toucan in the tree

                                                          Little owls

 

The bit that looks abit tropical:

Finally, the geology bit:

 For those not familiar with what a rock looks like, he has helpfully directed us to where we should be looking.

                                                           

                                                Something to do with scale...

...and there we have it. Something educational.

More umbrellas than thongs

In Ouro Preto it rains a lot. When the Mister and I were checking weather reports every day leading up to our departure, they showed us  that the state of Minas Gerais was about 26/27 degrees – one website contradicted this for Ouro Preto but we decided to ignore that one as we didn’t like it. Well that website was accurate. Ouro Preto is a mountain town and is completely different and interchangeable to the rest of Minas Gerais. On arrival it felt like my first Glastonbury, in 1997 when I experienced torrential rain in a place where I thought the sun shone constantly because that is what the telly coverage showed. When we arrived here, it  was pissing it down and it continued to do this for the next three days.

You don’t really pack many winter clothes when you think it’s going to be hot all the time.

Ouro Preto...the town that time forgot

 

Ouro Preto really is a stunning place – as a Unesco heritage site every building in the historic town is listed so there are virtually no twentieth century buildings – it looks amazing. On practical terms mind, a little frustrating – when the shops are shut it is difficult to tell whether you are on a street where there are any as the buildings need to remain untouched – this means no shop signs…making it difficult to navigate at times.

What is more Ouro Preto is built on a hill – I have never seen so many steep hills in close proximation to each other – nothing is flat…steep cobbled streets it says in the guidebook. The guidebook also says ‘aim to spend a few days here’ probably because more than two days your body will start to ache after charging up those vertical cobbled streets and you will be exhausted from walking all over the place. I have brought flip flops. I won’t be wearing them here – I will be wearing my hiking boots to go to the shops. It is charming but Jesus, we walked home from the restaurant last night and nearly collapsed.

We are staying in a beautiful house which, in line with the rest of the town is centuries in the past. Outside idyllic, in reality not so. When we first got here our landlady told us there was only one function working on the cooker and pointed to the oven. We spent the next 3 days believing that we had no stove or hot water. It was like going back in time (apart from the addition of a microwave, a sandwich toaster but no stove) but we were  not sure such a time existed. We finally questioned it after deciding it was unacceptable really – it ain’t cheap here. Turns out only one gas hob is working. Phew. Hot water out of shower only. Better than nothing.

I havn’t asked if there is wifi yet as I expect the answer will either be ‘no’ or ‘are you kidding?’ She used to live in America so she is likely to say the latter.