Amy’s Thoughts

E então amigos, como vão?  I am wrapping up the academic portion of the program here — took my final exam this morning, what a pain in the butt, like we’re supposed to study while in paradise… de jeito nenhum!

Although I must admit that paradise is sometimes an exaggeration (somehow the stench of overworked sewage systems detracts from the idyllic setting), it still seems absurd to spend our afternoons studying… which is why many of us have perfected the art of studying at the beach (that is to say, we pretend to study until someone else from the group shows up to pretend study as well, which usually results in happy, sunny hours with not a book in sight).

And so my academic program endeth, on the beach with coco water and a smile.

I did of course get a lot of work done on my research project (despite the time at the beach) but there is still so much more to do.  I spent the past several weeks, making observations in an elementary/middle school in Vitória, speaking with teachers and interviewing adults students (who attend at night).  Unfortunately, I had a limited amount of time to pursue my research (given the rigorous academic schedule) and things in Latin America tend to meander along at a very slow pace in any case, so… I think that if I truly want to use the results of my research to write my master’s thesis, I’m going to have to return to Brazil sometime over the next year (how very sad for me, I’m sure). 

And so my research stops, with too many questions for it to truly be at an end.

My crazy Brazilian family is already asking when I will return, so they can welcome me with loud shrieks of joy.  I of course am counting down the seconds to when I get to leave their nut house, though I will truly, TRULY miss the children (yes, even the whiney shrieky one). 

And so I leave the wacky Brazilian family behind, certain that my family has, in no way, ever approached their level of wackiness (and that’s really saying something!)

I completed Capoeira last night with a video camera attached to my face so that I got out of actually having to perform in front of the hordes of Brazilians our professors invited to watch our (or at least my) shameful lack of coordination.  Too bad I never thought to borrow the video camera from my family sooner, maybe I could have avoided all those crazy evenings of contortionist play. 

And so my Capoeira days are over, leaving me covered in bruises, hobbling through the streets of Brazil with a videotape and berimbau clutched in hand.

Tonight I head for Rio de Janeiro on a bus.  I begged my fellow travelers to fork out the extra money for an ônibus semi-leito (partial sleeping bus), but there seems to be a communal crisis of money at the end of this trip – I really don’t understand how the crisis can be that great when even I can afford to pay the extra TEN DOLLARS to travel without another passenger reclining in my lap, but hey…  at least they all agreed to pay the extra two dollars to have three more inches of space.

And so my time in Vitória comes to a close.  It’s been interesting and fun and messed up all at the same time.  I can’t wait to see what Rio brings the second time around!  One final excursion to end the trip in style.

Até mais…

First, I have to express my thanks to each and every one of you, for providing so much compassion and support in response to my latest email re Kitty.  He is holding his own at the vet’s office, charming them all I am certain with his feisty attitude and will to live.  He is not out of the woods by any means and may still not make it, but I am taking comfort in knowing that he is in very good hands and is being treated very well.

As for my experiences here in Brazil, I am trying to take to heart the advice I have received from so many different sources:  to continue enjoying my time here as best I can, and to trust all will be well.  It’s hard at times to stay focused and to not wish the hours away, which is the worst way of wasting precious hours of life, but I am doing my best.

It helps that I am living in a house filled with crazy people.  They allow me very little time to wallow and to pout.  The house has a total of 8 people living in it (that includes me) and it is, quite literally, a mad house.  Four of the people are children ranging from ages 5 to 14 and the other four are adults, three of whom are driving me bonkers (I would be the fourth adult and I think it’s safe to say that I’m the only person in the house not certifiably insane!)

This makes it all sound so very terrible and it isn’t really.  I’ve just learned the virtue of laughing at their madness and well… pretending that it’s all quite normal.  That works most of the time.  Basically, they yell.  No.  That’s wrong.  They SCREAM.  ALL the time.  It’s kind of funny actually.  All my life, I’ve been told that I’m a very loud person.  I laugh too loudly.  I talk too loudly.  When I get excited, I REALLY talk too loudly.  Well.  Please.  Compared to these people, I am the most soft-spoken person you will ever meet.  It’s not that they yell.  It’s that they yell ALL THE TIME.  AT THE SAME TIME. 

Conversations in this mad house are impossible.  You should just give up.  That’s what I’ve learned.  They should have a sign on the door that says “Communication within these walls is currently impossible.”  Although it should be in Portuguese obviously.  It really is an exercise in futility.  Because they all yell their thoughts at the same time.  And the youngest child, poor thing, I don’t think she has a hope in hell of ever being heard, which is probably why she doesn’t have a CLUE how to use a normal, speaking voice.  EVERY SINGLE word that I have EVER heard her speak has been shouted (actually more like screamed because she has a tiny, squeaky voice) at the top of her lungs.  I mean picture it, please, for one moment, just picture it:

“MAMAEMAMAEMAMAEMAMAEMAMAEONDEEQUEVAMOSHOJE

MAMAEMAMAEMAMAEMAMAETAMEOUVINDOMAMAEMAMAE

ONDEEQUEVAMOSMAMAEMAMAEMAMAEONDEEQUE…”

and it just goes on and on and on and ON ad nauseum until I want to put my face in Darah’s tiny little one and scream “NOWHERE, WE’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE, SO JUST SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!”  Then I want to smack Fabiana and tell her to answer her child for god’s sake before I go postal on everyone’s ass.  Unfortunately for me, they don’t get those little pop culture references and so I just sit there listening to the chaos until I feel like my head is going to explode.  Then I quietly retire to my room, where I am able to listen to their entire conversation and repeat it verbatum from one floor up and three rooms over because they’re all talking THAT DAMN LOUD!!!!

Yes.  I really do love this family.  Really.  It’s just that they’re all a little nuts, that’s all.  And hey, every family has it’s nutty members, right?  It’s just not that often that the entire family’s full of nutters, that’s all.  Makes them all the more unique, right?  Anyway, the kids are adorable and they’re all currently indulging in a race to see who can read Amy’s entire Harry Potter collection in Portuguese before she leaves.  I really love my HP books, but I am considering leaving them as a gift to the kids.  After all, kids’ books should really be enjoyed by kids, right?  And what’s the likelihood of some young Portuguese-speaking student in my class one day deciding to read them?  Not too great, I would say…

So, my family’s great.  Capoeira, on the other hand, is killing me.  All I have to say is never ever take an exercise class in a foreign country.  It’s just not a good idea.  They believe that everyone is capable of everything, including crazy-ass cartwheels across a giant gymnasium and one-handed hand stands where your entire body moves in some weird-ass arc that defies gravity and the space-time continuum, but hey… it’s entirely possible if you just put your mind to it, right?  Right… I’ve never really felt my age until now, but I’m telling you, I now feel my age times 10.  I get home every night and I’m walking like a little old lady who just fell down a flight of stairs.

The students in my class can pretty much be divided into three groups:  the athletes, who attack Capoeira like it’s a game to be won (and thus somehow, end up accomplishing all manner of things that defy gravity), the dancers, who flow seemlessly through all the steps like they were born doing Capoeira, and me.  Yep, that would be me, the group of 1.  The non-athlete, non-dancer, ten years older than everyone else in the group me.  It’s really not a pretty sight…. Amy doing Capoeira.  I have a terrible fear that I resemble a giant lumbering gorilla trying to do the cancan.  Every time someone pulls out a camera, I try to hide, but I’m afraid I was unable to avoid being captured by some hidden, stealth-like spy cameras.  It’s unfortunate, but true.  Somewhere out there the sight of Amy lumbering through the steps of Capoeira is captured for posterity’s sake.  Coitadinho de posterity.  (How sad for posterity.)

Well, I do believe they want to close this internet cafe down.  I’m getting the evil eye, so I should go now.  Thanks to all of you for your support and don’t forget to say a prayer that Amy survives four more classes of Capoeira with the insane Brazilian instructors (who also happen to be truly hot, so you might also ad lib a couple prayers – I think you know the kind that I mean!) 

I realize I have not sent an update in a while, and this one is more in the
nature of an update on my state of being, rather than on my Brazilian
experiences, but I feel all of this is pertinent to providing an overall picture
of my summer in Brazil.

I really can’t talk about the last few weeks and my experiences here without
touching on some of the things happening in the States.  My uncle Jimmy (whom I
must admit, I did not know very well, and who was sick for some time) died a
couple weeks ago, leaving my grandmother devastated and my mom and aunts working
over-time to make funeral arrangements.  In addition, my grandmother’s health
has reached a point where my mom and Aunt Pat feel she would be better off in an
assisted living arrangement rather than living alone, so they are trying to help
her find a place that she likes.  It’s difficult being away from my family when
such turmoil is unfolding in their lives.

In addition, and most devastating for me personally, is that almost overnight,
Kitty’s health has deteriorated, reaching a critical point.  Luckily, Celeste
recognized that something was wrong almost immediately and got him to my vet,
who has been treating him since Monday.  The vet believes he has pancreatic
cancer.  Kitty already suffered a bout with his pancreas about five years ago,
and the vet was able to nurse him back to health, but there was always a risk
that the illness would return.

When he reached the vet’s office on Monday, his body temperature was critically
low, and he was severely dehydrated and anemic.  The doctors have been working
to stabilize him and he seemed to be doing better yesterday, even sitting up and
purring a little.  The bottom line, however, is that there are no guarantees,
the vets are doing everything they can for him, but it just may not be enough.
At this point, they can’t even treat his pancreas because the treatment is so
aggressive, it would aggravate his other symptoms, i.e., the dehydration and
anemia. 

The worst part, of course, is that I am so far away, and am not able to be
there with him as he struggles against this illness.  Feeling terribly helpless,
I sat down on Tuesday night and recorded my voice on a cassette tape, rambling
about my experiences here in Brazil.  I then Sedexed (the Brazilian form of
FedExed) the tape to the vet’s office.  The fastest I could send it was 3-6 days
(which still cost a fortune — the equivalent of around $16 US) but I am hoping
it will provide him with some comfort.

For those of you who may not know Kitty, he is my 20-year old cat, who has been
with me since my 12th birthday, and is most definitely, one of the best friends
I could ever and will ever have.  My home has always been filled with his
presence and without him would feel terribly empty, as would I.  I have, of
course, known for several years that our time together has been getting more
limited, and that every single day we have together is a gift.  Sitting here in
Brazil, knowing that I have been away from him for a month, something which may
have actually caused the illness to come back, makes me feel that I have
squandered so many of those precious gifts.  When I heard that he was sick, my
instinct was to jump on a plane and rush home.  I restrained myself for one
reason.  I left him to do research here in Brazil and leaving without finishing
that research would make all he has suffered almost pointless.  At the same
time, I am cursing my credit card-less existence, for if I had one, I would
certainly be charging a plane ticket home right now, just so that I could spend
a long weekend visiting him at the vet’s office.

In any case, this update certainly has nothing to do with any of my Brazilian
experiences, and yet, in many ways, it has everything to do with them.  For the
past couple weeks, and in particular, this week, as I have attended my classes
and conducted my interviews in schools, I have found it almost impossible to
concentrate, as my thoughts have centered on my family and Kitty.  The events
back home have had a definite impact on my experiences here, as they should.  I
certainly have more experience in Brazilian public restrooms as a result, given
that I spent most of Monday as I went from class to class, finding quiet corners
in them to sob and whisper prayers for my cat.

I can only hope that things will continue to improve with Kitty and that I will
have the opportunity to pet him and listen to his purr upon my return. 

Well, I´m actually in the middle of week 4, I´m getting a little behind in my updates here.  Oh, well…

First, I apologize if people´s computers are having difficulty translating some of the weird keys I´m having to use on these Brazilian keyboards.  They don´t really believe in using the apostrophe here, so I have to make do with accent marks, which may be interpreted kind of strangely by some computers.

I thought I would take a moment to reply to some generic questions I´ve received from some individuals (and I apologize to those of you who have taken the time to email me personally and to whom I have not yet responded… I tend to have limited online time, but really appreciate all the emails I´ve been getting — they make me smile!)  And so… on to the questions:

1.  Have you been able to find any Dr. Pepper there in Brazil?  Much to my great distress, I am living a dr. pepper free life here in the land of beautiful bronzed bodies.  Luckily for me, however, I am able to consume the occasional coke.  It´s just not the same, of course, but in times of extreme paucity, one must make do with what one has.

2.  Have you been able to consume your regular gallon of salsa and 5 bags of chips per week there?  Much to my even greater distress, the Brazilians do not believe in either chips or salsa.  Instead, they believe in the almighty Cat Chup (that would be ketchup for the less discerning eye), which they pour on everything from pasta to popcorn.  I have yet to see a single human being eat cat chup on their french fries.

3.  How easy is it to remain vegetarian?  Now that I have made it past my original misconception that the word “carne” (literally, meat) has the same connotation here as it does back home, I have a lot less difficulty maintaining my vegetarian status.  Originally, I would ask for dishes without carne and would be invariably directed to a variety of dishes that upon closer reflection included pork or chicken.  People here just don´t understand what it means to be vegetarian.  I am constantly asked so you don´t eat carne, right (which I originally replied yes to, but later discovered ONLY covers beef).  I have since learned to specify that I don´t eat beef, pork, chicken OR fish, which usually garners me some very strange looks and invariably results in me eating a variety of salads and side items.  But hey, at least it´s not some pork pie masquerading as a vegetarian dish.

4.  What´s the weather like in Brazil (I think this person was having trouble coming up with something exciting to ask, but hey…)  Well, it´s winter here, which for Brazilians means that they walk around in jeans and short-sleeved shirts and come nightfall, shiver and complain that it´s too cold.  Oh, and they limit their ocean swimming to the hottest hours of the day (mid-afternoon).  For me, it means that I walk around in shorts and tank tops all the time and stare in open-mouthed amazement when my 10-year old host brother (who lives in the Northeast, where it´s “really hot”) comes downstairs every morning dressed in shorts and a giant winter coat (I didn´t even know they HAD winter coats here!)  Imagine… an entire country colder than ME!!

5.  Is that your program at http://www.ku.edu/~brasilis/summer.html?  Yes, this is the website where you can read my itinerary and class schedule for the summer (no, there are no pictures posted, although I have it on good authority that the director of the program is planning to upload some photos to the website one of these days).  And yes, we are actually taking capoeira classes three times a week.  What is capoeira, you might ask?  Well, basically, it´s the Brazilian form of martial arts that often looks like dancing, it´s so seamless (when you do it right of course, which for me, is never).  In my case, it´s more like 4 hours of torture every week, where I´m forced to make my body do things that it was never meant to do (under no circumstances should my legs EVER go over my head in that fashion!) 

6.  Are you ever coming home?  Despite persistent rumours that I am having so much fun here fighting off the mosquitoes, rocketing down the rapids of Brazil, fishing giant bumblebees out of my yogurt, paying for slow internet connections, running for my life every time I cross the street due to crazy Brazilian drivers who do not believe in stopping (or even slowing down) for any reason whatsoever, watching all my favorite movies dubbed in Portuguese which means I don´t get shivers down my back every time Sean Connery speaks, and spending endless hours three days a week in extremely BORING Portuguese classes where I am supposed to speak like Brazilians (not in that crazy Portuguese accent)… YES, I am coming home.  August 10th. 

Well, here it is, the description of my river rafting experience at Rio da Montanha in Biriricas.  We began our trip in the morning.  There were five of us in my group (myself, Noel, Jenny, Tandi and Matt) plus the guide, Neninho.  I was seated in the middle (lucky me — the prime spot to get squished between two people or knocked out of the raft by any wayward oar) and was already a little nervous, not being the strongest of swimmers and even worse, most decidedly NOT the most coordinated person in the world.  All that “Para frente, para atras, frente com forca, frente esquerda, atras esquerda, frente direita and atras direita” was a little much for me (front, back, front with strength, front left, back left, front right and back right).  I could barely get it all down in English, let alone in Portuguese!  It also didn’t help that our rather hot guide was directly behind me observing my every uncoordinated movement!

In any case, there we were and all was going seemingly well until exactly 2.9 minutes into our 3 hour rafting experience when our boat sprang a leak.  It was a slow leak mind you, but ten minutes down the river and we were sitting in 3 inches of water.  We were able to continue rowing, but everything (and I do mean EVERYTHING) was more difficult (and more dangerous) as a result.  Jenny and I (being the lucky individuals seated in the middle) were told to pay attention and be especially careful because the water made it especially difficult for us to brace ourselves in the boat.

Now, I realize that most people go river rafting for the whole “rapids experience” but I think rafting in a pool (commonly called sunbathing) would have been a better choice for our time!  Every time we hit a terribly turbulent spot (which was always accompanied by enormous boulders and sharp rocks), our guide had to get out of the boat and literally expend “muita forca” to pull us over the rocks, as we got stuck.  This was caused by a combination of our riding low due to the amount of water in our boat and the river being low at this time of year.  But we continued on.  Eventually, the water level rose and that’s when the real fun began.  We began to rocket over these ridiculous rapids, with rocks banging us every which way, the guide’s shouts in our ears about front, back, this way, that way, every which way but the way we were going, and suddenly…

We came to an enormous waterfall (which was really just a small drop, but appeared quite enormous to my inexperienced eyes), went flying over it at a speed that left my stomach 20 yards behind us, dropped what seemed to be a mile, crashing into turbulent waters that soaked us all, at which point something that felt like a giant boulder fell on my back (it turned out to be my guide, who lost his balance as we rocketed down that cliff).  I, of course, slammed into Tandi, thus making us a human sandwich for a couple of minutes.  In the confusion, I lost my oar (the boat immediately in front of us managed to grab it for me and pass it back — damn them!)

So, on we went on our wild ride from hell.  I was certain at any moment I was going to be swept overboard and eaten by some giant Brazilian piranha (not that I heard that there were any piranhas in this river, but you never know) when suddenly Jenny was swept overboard.  Everyone panicked of course, including her.  She reached for the side of the boat and our guide, exhibiting an unbelievable amount of strength, grabbed her by the life jacket and in one swift movement, hauled her back on board.  And on we went. 

Finally, we stopped for what I thought was a break, but which actually turned out to be the insane portion of our trip (insane up until that moment, that is).  The guides told us it was too difficult to ride the rafts through this, the most turbulent part of the river, so we had two choices.  We could walk along the rocks or we could float down the river.  FLOAT DOWN THE RIVER.  With only our life jackets and the river god keeping us safe.  And so, because I experienced a moment of complete and utter insanity, I “floated” down the river.  Let me tell you:  If a Brazilian guide ever tells you to just “float” down some rapids, you tell him HELL NO and get the hell out of there.

So… I floated.  If floating can be considered this weird experience where you sucked down a gallon of dirty river water, your entire body flipped around, you almost lost your glasses (which is what caused all that body flipping in the first place), you scraped your legs along the bottom of a river and missed by mere inches being slammed up against a boulder the size of Texas.  Yeah, great fun.  Floating. 

So, back in the boat and on through more rapids than I ever want to see again in my lifetime.  But we were nearing the end.  Oh, hallelujah!!!  I could see the boat in front of us … they were on dry land next to the trucks come to take us home.  We had survived!!!!

But wait… there was just one more thing we had to do.  Go down a tiny bit of rapids and then we’re home free.  Oh, and avoid that cliff of to the left.  AVOID THE CLIFF OFF TO THE LEFT!!!!  What cliff?  What?  OH, SHIT!

And so that is how I ended up staring at the river rushing up at my at an awesome speed, knowing with every ounce of my being that our boat was going to flip, watching the body of our guide flying over my head, and … hitting the water.  For a tiny fraction of a second (or a millennium, who knows) I was trapped under the boat and then… I was free.

Now, we all like to think that in these situations, everyone will be all about helping your fellow man.  But let me tell you.  When you’re in the water and you’re gulping down gallons of nasty river water and you’re literally fighting your way to the surface for any chance at air, well… the rest of the world is just shit out of luck, because it’s every freaking person for themselves!!!!!  Sure, after I had saved myself, I tried to count bodies, but it was a little difficult trying to stay afloat and count and … the hell with it.  I made my way to shore and hoped that everyone else found their way as well.

Later I found out that Tandi had been trapped under the boat for a while and that the witnesses on land were freaking out counting bodies and coming up one short.  Luckily, she had found the air pocket under the boat and when the raft was lifted up, there she was quite safe and sound.  I was also told that our crash was worthy of sports recording history, that it was quite a “spectacular” sight to see.  I’m so happy we managed to entertain the masses.

And so, we were all safe.  We climbed aboard the truck, headed back, soaking wet, to our cabins.  But alas, halfway there… our truck broke down.

So, the guides radio’d the other truck to ask for help.  Guess what they said?  “We’re broke down too.” And that is how, I ended up riding back to our little cabin in the woods along tiny roads deep in the mountains, standing up in the back of a pickup truck, hanging onto some weird contraption, thinking to myself… if I survive this experience, it will be a miracle.

But I survived.  And guess what?  I think maybe I want to go river rafting in Colorado sometime.