Posterous theme by Cory Watilo
Haley A

Porque?

Last week, in an effort to make us practice our speech/comprehension/verb conjugations, my Portuguese teacher was asking us random questions about our likes and dislikes, our dreams, and the choices we would make (conditional tense) in hypothetical situations (the subjunctive tense).  One question was about our favorite movies and books.  While neither is easy to answer, I do have a go-to favorite movie, Pulp Fiction.  My favorite book was more difficult to name.  I ended up going with a favorite author, Mitch Albom.  Every one of his books has made me consider what’s important in life (and also cry).  He’s a pretty profound guy- it’s easy to forget that he was/is a sports writer.  However, I still was not able to put my finger on a single favorite book. 

That is, until just now.  I’m currently working on a scholarship essay that will hopefully lead to some extra funds to cover some of my study abroad costs.  Anyway, the application asks why I am studying abroad.  I doubt that the scholarship committee would like the simple answers of “I’m an IR major,” “well, I’ve just always planned to study abroad,” or “I’d like to be able to speak Portuguese.”  So, I was forced to consider why, exactly, I’ve planned a career (somehow) involving international relations, why I’ve had an urge to move so far away from everything and everyone I know, away from a familiar culture and the only language I’m fluent in. 

Well, from what I can pin down, the (somewhat abridged version of the) progression goes like this: 

Sometime, during elementary school, I decided I was going to Harvard.  What is Harvard known for?  Law School.  I was going to be a lawyer when I grew up.  As an over-achieving eighth grader, I went to a college fair.  I found out that “pre-law” is not usually accepted as a major, but a lot of people on pre-law tracks major in Political Science.  Politics is cool- basically I was interested at this point in my life because I wanted to be a liberal (I am SO not a leftist though).  When I applied to Governor’s School during my junior year, the program that most closely matched my interests was the School for International Studies.  So, I applied to colleges as an IR major and I haven’t (really) looked back.  (I don’t plan to apply to law school anymore, though.)

Not so captivating.  So, when I really consider my motivations for wanting to be involved in a culture other than my own, the reason why I didn’t change my major to astrophysics after I took that astronomy class, I come to a couple of more-convincing conclusions.  First, the “where were you” moment from my lifetime was September 11, 2001.  Since then, it seems like our country has become inalterably involved in foreign affairs.  The Middle East was no longer “over there.”  Now, it was in our living rooms.  The isolationism of the past did not seem like it would be a viable option ever again.  Yet, the area where I grew up still seemed pretty isolated.  I think that just about everyone has CNN available in their home, yet so many people had no idea that there was a difference between Iraq and Afghanistan.  It seemed like all that some people got out of the news was an intense hatred for those who practiced Islam (and they were sure that everyone in that region did).  I saw it among my classmates, who did not hear any of my arguments against “bombing them all.”  I wanted to make a difference in people’s perceptions of the rest of the world and in the nature of the foreign relations of the U.S. 

That explains why I’m passionate about IR, but why do I have “a burning desire to go, to move, to get under way, anyplace, away from Here,” other than the fact that it improves my chances of getting a job someday (a day that is actually approaching way too quickly)?  John Steinbeck made me do it.  I’ve read Travels with Charley twice now, and it was not any easier to put down the second time through.  I’ve become one of those people who can easily fall asleep while reading, but not with this book.  I don’t know if it’s just that I agree with everything that Steinbeck has to say, or that his recounting of his travels made me want to have my own adventures, but I absolutely LOVE this book.  “A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from all other journeys.  It has personality, temperament, individuality, uniqueness.  A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike.”  Why wouldn’t you want your own?  And that’s how I got to Sampa:

 

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O Primeiro

I’ve been in São Paulo for almost two weeks now, and I haven’t written one thing.  So, here goes:

I arrived in São Paulo, SP, Brasil on Thursday, January 12th after a ten hour flight from Atlanta.  I was pleasantly surprised to find meal service, free movies and blankets, and an empty seat next to me on my flight (I found the blankets to be kind of questionable though, I’m not sure what the protocol with washing/changing them out is, so I decided not to risk it).  I breezed through customs and immediately met up with some of our program coordinators and my fellow exchange students. 

On the trip from Garulhos to São Paulo, I learned that Walmart does exist here, and that Brazilians seems to be pretty serious about their Christmas decorations- i.e. a metal Christmas tree, several stories tall, with at least 5 life-sized Santa Clauses who appeared to be climbing to the top. 

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Metropolitan São Paulo seems to be bigger every time I go somewhere new (In truth, it might actually be growing.  At least there’s construction outside my window on the Estadio Palestra Italia- the stadium where the Palmeiras FC plays- just about every. single. day).  I’ve mastered my walk to PUC (pronounced “pooky”) and the CIEE Office (which are a block apart)- down Avenida Sumaré and UP João Ramalho (and I mean up- Perdizes could be described as “hilly”/ there are stairs at some places in the sidewalk because of the steep grade).  Other than that, my experiences outside Perdizes (my neighborhood) have been limited.  However, I hope to explore it thoroughly within the time I have left (12 days gone already!).

 

 

So far, I’ve eaten chicken hearts and a quail egg unintentionally.  Neither was what you would call a good surprise.  Then, I tried bacalhau (salted cod) which is a Portuguese specialty, on purpose.  I have no ambition to ever consume any of these three items again.  On the positive side, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all of the fruits I’ve found here, especially the mangos and passionfruit juice.  And then there are the pasteis.  Pasteis are deep-fried dough “pockets” with a variety of fillings inside.  I think just about anything goes for the filling- chicken, beef, shrimp, cheese, palm hearts, bacalhau, and even pizza.  At about R$3, a pastel makes for a cheap, adequate, portable, and tasty meal.  As if the street foods weren’t enough, my host mom is an excellent cook.  She has not repeated a meal yet, and they've all been tasty.  As far as I can tell, rice accompanies almost every meal.




 

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My first and only major “cultural outing” was do the Memorial da América Latina.  The monument is in a huge space, very close to my homestay and the Barra Funda transportation terminal.  First of all, it was cool to be in a space that Oscar Niemeyer designed, after having studied Brasília.  Secondly, the Memorial is moving.  It was planned to that the visitor would feel diminutive, compared to the large buildings and wide, empty spaces surrounding him or her.  I found the sculpture of the hand to be my central focus, as well as the most thought-provoking component of the Memorial da América Latina.  The outline of Latin America is carved out in the palm of the hand in red, with the red dripping down through the bottom of the South American continent.  This is series of structures is a memorial to the violent injustice of the area’s colonial past, as well as a promise for a much brighter future, filled with diversity, democratic government, and cultural richness.

 




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I’m going to conclude with a list of things I’ve learned so far (I know some have already seen this):

  • It's considered odd to not wear shoes inside.  Inside their houses is the only place that Paulistanos (people from Sao Paulo) will wear flip flops on a normal basis.  I almost never wear shoes.
  • There's no central air/heat in most places, even though this is the largest city in South America, and I’d say it’s pretty modern.  The weather is fairly moderate all year though.  (Public places like hotels, some restaurants, etc do have air.)
  • It seems to be breezy all of the time.  I can’t really account for why this is.
  • Apparently doors in Brazil don't have some spring or something (in the knob, I guess) that we have in the U.S., so they're more likely to slam. Loudly.
  • Lines don’t seem to exist so much... people don’t like to be in line?  I’m not really sure what it is.
  • Anything not produced in Brazil is outrageously expensive.  I knew this, but I was not prepared.  Peter Pan peanut butter (which I consider sub-par) is R$15 per jar.  Sunscreen is about R$25.  Some type of Sony Ericsson phone I saw was over R$1,000.
  • I saved the best for last:  you can't flush toilet paper down the toilet.  Instead, there are special trash cans for it.

 

Hopefully I’ll get better at this whole “blogging” thing and possibly write more consistently.  But, for today, this is it.  Tchau!