Valentine's Day

Happy [American] Valentine's Day, everyone!

Last week I finally made it to the Post Office to buy stamps for Valentine cards that I had purchased and addressed before leaving the States. I'm quite certain that the cards will not be arriving today, so I want to send my love while waiting for international snail mail to catch up.

When Cecilia and I arrived at the Icarai neighborhood Post Office here in Niteroi, we took our place in front of a middle-aged female clerk who was eager to help, even in her post-lunch "It sure would be nice to take a nap" demeanor. Cecilia explained that I needed to purchase stamps in order to send Valentine cards to the United States. A puzzled expression led me to remember that Brasil's Valentine's Day celebration is later in the year. Cecilia explained that the US celebrates on February 14th, and that I would be needing to mail 5 cards.

I missed the next part of the conversation, but C filled me in later.  The clerk was taken aback that I would be sending cards to five different Valentines.  Cecilia explained to me that in Brasil, Valentine's Day is only for lovers, not for children, friends, family, etc.  No wonder the lady raised her eyebrows and looked at me askance!

Also, as she was taking inventory of the stamps she had, she told us that she was going to give us some "pretty ones."  Proudly she handed over enough postage for each of the envelopes, which included two of these for each card:

"Pretty" Zombie Manicurist . . . ?

Cecilia and I were wondering

if she could have just given us some ugly ones . . .

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Grab a cup of coffee or tea, and prop your feet up for a short tour of Cecilia and Will's neighborhood.

A stop at Mega Matte for Acai with Banana and Granola
for lunch after C's appointment with Patricia--the OB.
It was the Gringa's first Acai, and I loved it.

Bright Stucco with Clay Tile Roof

Portuguese Architecture on a Shady Street

MMMMM . . .

Graceful Wrought Iron

Sidewalks are made of chunks of granite.
I was fascinated with all the patterns.

Reflections of Portuguese Heritage

A Soft Treasure

Coral Beauty

Delicate

Old/New Apartment Buildings
share shady side streets.

Granite Textures Underfoot

Cecilia and Will
February 2, 2012
Just ahead is a favorite cafe/bakery--Beira Mar.

Green Tile Apartment

More Sidewalk Graphics

One block from W and C's apartment
is a Flower Stand.
This is the overflow from the cart!

Que Lindo!
Rosas Vermelhas, Laranjas, e Amarelas

Tropical Tile

Captive Ginger

Concrete and Stucco Mural decorates yet another apartment building.

Tall Palms dwarf and shade a tile-roofed home.

Ta-Daaa!

In front of a Travel Agency,
this chicken in a bikini has her camera ready!

Street vendor shows Cecilia and Will some linens from Northern Brazil.

Cecilia admires the lacework.

Welcome

Pretty Tropical Colors

Typical front yard--wrought iron, trees, flowers.
Typical, but not boring!

Fan Palms took my breath away.

Amazing!

Our favorite store, Oficina de Minas--
Will designed their website in exchange for furniture.

Terra Cotta tiles top a stucco wall.

A Study in Texture and Color

More Color and Texture!

I'm fascinated by yet another granite sidewalk pattern.

GUAVA
Have you ever seen such a heavenly color?

Curtains

3 O'Clock Sun

Patterned tile walls are everywhere.

Yellow Shrimp Plant

Bromeliads on a Tree Stump

Greens and More Greens

Tropical Stop Sign
Who can pass this by without a picture?

Across from the beach on Praia de Icarai,
the sidewalks have a wave pattern.

More Graphics Underfoot

Black and white granite waves create an optical illusion.
The sidewalk is perfectly flat and broad.

From the apartment window,
11 stories up

Wish you were here?
Wish you were here . . .
with love from the Gringa

Saturday Beach/Praia Sabodo

Last night's storm has cleared the air; colors are brighter and the tips of the hill/mountains across the bay are haze-free. Pausing to soak in the amazing view of Sugar Loaf Mountain and Christ the Redeemer on the horizon, I decide to indulge in one of my favorite past times--people watching. From my 11th story perch, Saturday beach looks very different from a weekday beach. Monday through Friday, groups of blue-shirted children shout and move in unison with directions from the whistles of their camp counselors. Weekdays the space is sparsley populated with walking couples. Now there are blue and red beach umbrellas that seem to have popped up overnight through the sand like so many giant flowers. Chairs filled with bronze brown sun worshippers are grouped in clusters around the space claimed by each umbrella. Now the bay boasts a few white-sailed catamarans, and pleasure boats putter or zip past.

As I soak in the bay breeze with all the sounds of people at play, I notice a volleyball game directly below the window. 5 men per side are really good at precise, long volleys. Then I realize, they never touch the ball with their hands! This Gringa is fascinated to watch perfectly executed plays with all the moves of a soccer player; legs, chests, and heads take the place of wrists, hands, and arms. How does that man place his shot so deftly with the slightest tilt of his head, and drive it high or low over the net with a twist of his neck? With a thump, another passes with his leg, or volleys with a knee. Arms held wide for balance clear the way for an open chest to direct the ball in a drop shot over the net. Powerful precision like this is learned pre-birth in Brazil. It must be genetically encoded.

What a treat, to see my first game of futevale (foo chee vol eh). Welcome to Brazil at play, Gringa.

Can't Blog Fast Enough, dois

It's now Saturday morning, and I'm up first. So in the interest of being quiet, here's part 2 (dua in Portuguese) of Can't Blog Fast Enough.

*** Thursday ***
Couch Time/Sewing
Cecilia and I had a delightful time this morning with a sewing kit, a small stack of mending, and a couple of hours on the living room couches. While needles and threads took care of tiny holes and a ripped seam or two, we talked all that fascinating girl talk that probably mystifies and makes a male brain liquify. Will ebbed and flowed from the room, taking breaks from working on a website at his computer in the front room. A newly installed ceiling fan combined with breezes off the bay through the open windows to cool and relax. C's favorite music, an eclectic mix of Brazilian and American artists, floated across the dark wood floors and smooth white plaster walls of this 1950's era apartment.

Cecilia's Vovo (Grandmother) hand-picked this space for the view, and was it's first tennant. C says that when Vovo was looking for a new home, she walked in the front door of this apartment directly to the living room windows, and claimed this was her home. "How can you be sad when you look at this view everyday?" she would state in very certain terms. When Vovo died, she left this apartment on Praia de Icarai to Cecilia, her brother Helio, and her sister Flora. Flora has lived here with her son Juan; and now Will and Cecilia are lovingly caring for it. Three bedrooms with parquet wood floors, 2 baths and an eat-in kitchen--tiled floors, and living/dining room with these wonderful wide-planked dark wood floors. The space is definitely designed before air conditioning; fresh breezes and the sounds and smells of apartment life flow through thoughtfully placed windows in each high-ceilinged room.

I'm working on mending a bleached white flour sack tablecloth that Vovo made years ago. As I darn small frayed tears in this sturdy but age-fragile cloth, I feel close to Vovo. Such tiny stitches in the open work that criss-crosses this practical beauty. Crocheted lace made from perle cotton borders the piece perfectly. As Cecilia tells me Vovo stories, I can tell that the two of them were very close. Vovo paid for Cecilia to take English classes right around the corner from the apartment, and C would come have dinner with Vovo after attending her classes twice each week. Little did they know how these classes would prepare Cecilia to return to the country where she was born, and meet her life mate! It's fascinating to me how God puts people and experiences in our lives that prepare us for the future He has already planned for us.

With mending and girl talk set aside, we three stroll to lunch at one of W & C's favorite little places. After walking as much as possible from shade to shade for a number of blocks, we gratefully step into the air conditioned cafe. Fresh dishes, serve-yourself, pay by the kilo makes for a tasty meal. Collard greens are tender and cooked perfectly. My red cabbage slaw has basil in it! Delicious! Cooked pumpkin rounds out my veggie plate. Will walked us part way to Cecilia's appointment for a manicure, then turned back home to work while C and I had some time to window shop. With freshly painted nails, Cecilia showed me a couple of her favorite shops. She and I share an obssession with decorative pillows and linens, so we drooled over some beauties in one boutique home store. Then we headed down the street to the beach for the last leg of our outing and a coconut water.

The vendadors are situated on a braod sidewalk that borders the beach. C invited me to do the ordering. Of course, the man just stared at me after my attempt. "Uma agua de coco" evidently didn't translate, but C saved the day. Deftly, the machete wielding vendador chopped open the correct end of this sweet green ball and handed it to me. My "Muito obrigada" (thank you very much) was met with a little scowl from his dark scruffy face as he took the reis (Brazilian currency) from my hand and gave me change. The only time I've experienced someone drinking coconut water is on all those seasons of Survivor. An interesting flavor, this liquid. For someone whose mouth is trained on Baker's Angel Flake Coconut in the navy blue plastic bag at your local grocers, I could taste only the slightest hint of sweet and barely any coconut flavor in the water from this fruit. It was refreshing to be sure; and C and I found a little shady spot to sit for a minute or two while we slurped from our two straws in the one vessel.

Before crossing the busy street to the apartment, Cecilia walked up to another vendador and asked him if he would open the coconut for us. Of course, since we didn't buy the fruit from him, he had every right to dismiss us with a hand gesture. But when tiny Cecilia made her inquiry, she touched her ripening belly ever so slightly, and the vendador complied. Trained hands simultaneously held the coconut and whacked it with a machete into two perfect halves. Then he took a tool that looked like a large hooked butter knife and made two cuts to free the meat from its husk. Two perfect bowls made of coconut meat with not one speck of brown shell in sight! C and I returned home to Will with our hancrafted coconut meat bowls. We all marvelled at the craftmanship while Will cut fresh mango for the snack bowl. What a Brazilian moment. . . . we had to take pictures, but I'm having trouble loading them on this iPad blog. Pictures will follow.

Dinner and a Movie
After dinner we watched a movie. Babe in Portuguese with no subtitles. Grin just a little bit, right? I know this movie fairly well, so it was fun to see it and train my ear to listen faster to this beautiful language at the same time.

Cool Shower
Yes, my not-so-guilty pleasure to end the day.

Can't Blog Fast Enough!!

Myth #1 Life south of the equator is lazy and slow.

Truth is, I cannot believe I arrived less than 3 days ago. Let's see if I can sort out all the activities of Wednesday afternoon, Thursday, and Friday before they are lost to the old Gringa.
*** Wednesday ***
Stroll to Brunch and Back
Just like many, many people here in Niteroi, Will and Cecilia don't have a car. People walk to destinations. Or if the destination is too far to walk, they take the bus, or call a taxi, or find a friend or relative with a car to help out. This makes life less complicated (in some respects)as well as much more active. Want to get a meal? Walk. Need a few groceries? Walk to the store. Need more groceries than you can carry home? Walk to the store and catch a taxi back. This is such a foreign concept to a Texas Gringa, and I really like it. I am so glad, however, that I'm being broken in to this new routine by a woman who is 8 1/2 months pregnant. Cecilia and I walk about the same speed. Either that, or she's taking pity on me and slowing down . . .
Life-saving Nap
After 22 hours of travel, including a comfortable but sleepless overnight flight and our neighborhood stroll for brunch in the tropical mid-day, I couldn't fall into my bed fast enough. Just enough sleep to fend off the zombies.
BTW--Currently Rio is 4 hours ahead of Central Standard Time. Will and Cecilia's schedule parallels ours. They rise about noon, at home I get up at 8-ish. They eat dinner around 10-11 PM, at the same time that Steve and I are eating, 6-7 PM Texas time. Generally at home I'm retiring around midnight, so I'll be able to run with the young ones in Rio when they start watching a movie or have visitors until 2 or 3 AM.
Cool Shower
During my Apartment Orientation, Cecilia and Will told me that their hot water capacity was such that the three of us could take our decent hot showers every 15 minutes or so, allowing for boiler recovery time between each one. Not to worry, I assured them. Cool showers are my new luxury.
BTW--the weather right now is just like Texas in early summer. Temps in the mid to high 70's at night and days in the mid to high 80's with lots of humidity. The sun is close and hot, but any shade and the breeze from the bay keeps activity in- and outdoors manageable. People walk and stand in the shade, just like in Texas in the summer. Only in Texas we walk from air-conditioned car to air-conditioned home, work, mall, or work-out facility.
Family Dinner
Cecilia's mother, Dora, brought a fish casserole and rice for a family dinner on Wednesday night. One by one, all the people that I had heard Cecilia talk about were arriving. Sister Flora with her son Juan, Brother Helio and his girlfriend Cecilia (yes, that's 2 Cecilias). Skype images and brief conversations were now face time. I'm getting the hang of the Brazilian greeting of a cheek to cheek air (or actual) kiss--first on the right, then on the left. Some greetings are followed by a hug, some are not. I'm generally a hugger, so I'm trying to tone down my habit of embracing right out of the gate.

Dinner was delicious and loud. Dora will be the first to admit this. People talk and talk over one another, like a big Italian family, they say with a smile in their eyes. Actually, I don't mind this at all. It takes the heat off me to try to carry on a conversation in Portuguese. There are no awkward silences! And I find that I'm not completely in the dark about what's going on. Body language, context, and tone of voice give me lots of clues along with my ability to speak Portuguese like a 22 month old child. Also, Dora knows a little English. Flora, Helio and Cecilia (his C) speak good English and really want to engage in conversation to practice. And of course, Cecilia and Will are also bi-lingual. So my thoughts of being unengaged in group dynamics have not materialized at all. C's family is very warm and engaging and lively and caring. Everyone is very glad that Will is Cecilia's choice. I'm so grateful that Cecilia is Will's choice as well.

Tomorrow I hope to finish yesterday's high points, but the Gringa needs to get horizontal in my comfortable bed. So, I'll leave the list to help me remember:
Thursday
Couch Time/Sewing
Flowers
Stroll to Lunch
Stroll to Salon for C's Manicure
Stroll Home via Beach/Coconut Water
Dinner at Home/Babe
Cool Shower
Friday
Housecleaning
Flowers
Cool Shower
Will & Cecilia's Civil Ceremony
Stroll to Lunch
Stoll to Place C's Flowers
After Party Party
Cool Shower

Benvindo a Brasil

After a Tuesday travel day from IAH through MIA, my overnight flight to GIG touched down Wednesday at 9 AM. This old gringa retrieved a cart for three bags and a box, stacked on a carry-on and purse, then breezed through customs without a hitch. (I almost said that I did it all by myself, but the truth is, God did it for me.) Note, I did not say it happened quickly. Since I checked in 2 hours ahead of my flight, mine were the first bags on and then, of course, the last bags off this 767. Then I rolled a burgeoning cart to the waiting cheers of my two and 1/2 loved ones. Embracing Will and Cecilia, with Daniel very much onboard, was a bit of heaven.

One of Cecilia's cousins was so kind and generous to drive his air-conditioned car to pick me up. As he whipped in and out of traffic, backseat companion Will pointed out the finer points of pedestrian safety, street vendors on the choked highway, and landmarks shrouded in a lazy haze. We passed concrete cinderblock favelas, stacked like so many gray Lego boxes. Some were punctuated with bright clothes on a line or the occasional red sattelite dish on a wall painted tropical bright. Cecilia showed me the hospital where she worked and the double-turreted mansion that was built by a local doctor long ago on a mountain just across a bay. Multiple cables on a new bridge under construction swooped gracefully skyward to be gathered at the top. Two starched white cruise ships anchored at piers across the bay, while huge fishing trawlers and ferries dotted the water. Soft curved mountain-hills swelled on the horizon, sleepy under a soft smoggy overcast sky.

Our bridge ended in a toll booth and delivered us to the urban/suburban streets of Niteroi. Will and Cecilia always breath a relaxed sigh when coming into Niteroi from Rio, they say. They pointed out various places while Cecilia's cousin deftly maneuvered his tiny gray car around and down and left and through. Here's the restaurant that serves meals by the kilo, always fresh and good; there's the dentist; I had my last bloodwork done there; the best bread in Niteroi is in this bakery; are you hungry--we'll unload your bags and walk here to get a breakfast.

The car turned left onto Praia de Icarai, and I began to recogize the street with the pale sand beach that the kids had captured in photos for us Texans. A short distance across the water, Christ the Redeemer towers on the tip of one shaggy tropical mount. His arms open to greet Sugar Loaf Mountain and His back is turned to another low mountain called The Sleeping Giant. Looks like you could hear the big guy snoring just like three of my cabin mates on the flight down. Supine, his head is back, nose pointed skyward, lower jaw slack. The bay is surrounded by lots of rock hills. Some are hard brown and bare, some coated with close moss green, and still others lush with dark foliage. With a little time on your hands, you could find shapes in the formations just like the cloud animals you imagined as a child while gazing skyward.

I'm so glad you're here, I hear over and over.

I'm so glad to be here, I say over and again.

I can't beleve it's finally real! In Niteroi Icarai Rio de Janeiro Brazil.