Five Weeks

There are now five weeks left of my fifteen-week stay in Brasil.

I'm generally a glass-half-full kind of person. With that attitude, I can look at Daniel, Cecilia, and Will, and think, "Good! We have five weeks to spend together." Most people don't even get that much vacation time to start with, right? Every day Daniel changes. We melt with his engaging smiles and cheer when he 'accidentally' flops from his belly to his back. I enjoy the pleasant Coco soap smell of cool damp clothes on the secadora. Purple-black acai and fresh juice made from watermelon with mint are delightful. Golden ripe papaya and fragrant, delicate star fruit are as common here as apples in the States. Cecilia and I have spent hours talking about important heart-to-heart topics. I've come to know my younger son as a man. We've shared friends, family, and our faith. We've joined hands to pray at dinner time.

I really enjoy walking the neighborhood to accomplish errands or take Daniel to the park. The streets are busy with vehicles, and pedestrians do not have the right-of-way! That was one of Will's first lessons for the Gringa: study the traffic carefully before stepping off any curb. The best place to cross a street is actually in the middle of the block--what we call jay-walking in the States. But in the middle of a block, you only have one- or two-way traffic to consider; it's usually calmer. At an intersection, you have a minimum of two directions to watch. If the crossing streets are two-way or multiple lanes, Katy Bar the Door! There may be a special lane for taxis or buses. Motorcyclists dart between cars and don't play by any rules. Turning traffic will appear out of nowhere. Timing, spry footwork, and the fear of God are the keys to navigation by foot. Oh, and jay-walk whenever possible. There are five more weeks of strolling the streets of Icarai, Niteroi.

And there's still time to enjoy not driving. I love to drive at home. Of course, everything I need there is beyond walking distance too. We even choose driving trips for vacations; but after reading the previous paragraph about driving habits in Carioca Land, you think you could pay me enough to get behind a wheel here?! And why bother? If the destination is too far to walk, I can catch a bus to anywhere just steps from our apartment for R$2,75. Niteroi's navy blue taxis are promptly available to take you anywhere you can't (or don't want to) go by bus. Who needs to worry that parking is very limited and therefore exorbitant in price? It's nice to leave the car behind for another 35 days.

And there are 35 more days to enjoy Beira Mar. Our favorite and closest cafe/bakery/specialty market has kept us fed for a month. When the Gringa was unable to fit grocery shopping and cooking into the newborn world, I could walk a block for fresh grilled salmon, chicken, or beef with dozens of choices for soups, sides, salads, breads, and desserts. I could be back to the apartment with steamy containers of healthy take-out by the kilo in less than half an hour. Another place that we've been several times for lunch is an out-of-the-way place called Alecrim. This buffet-style restaurant has good, fresh offerings from 11AM to 3:30PM. One of my favorites is a cabbage slaw with fresh basil dressed in vinaigrette.

Many restaurants, including Beira Mar and Alecrim, have hand-washing sinks. Okay, every place that has a bathroom has at least one sink, I know. But these hand-washing sinks are not in the restrooms. They are generally in an alcove close to the restrooms, but you don't have to open any doors or enter the toilet area if you just want to wash up before eating. I have 5 more weeks to enjoy this little nicety.

There are 35 more nights and days to stare at Daniel's deep blue eyes and hug his chubby little diapered butt. And smell his hair. And listen to him breathe when he's sleeping in my arms. And talk him into a sly toothless smile. Or watch him stare at his Mommy while stretched out across Cecilia's lap to nurse, and hear him squeak when gulping down his milk. And see Will and Little Man watching "The Incredibles" from the rede; or, while walking down the street, see Daniel's little balding head bobbing on Dad's shoulder.

This morning Cecilia said Daniel will be nine months old when they come to visit Texas for the holidays. The fact hit me like a right cross just above the belt. I will be leaving.

What's that old song say? "It's such a long, long time from May to December." I will miss most of Daniel's 'firsts,' and I'll miss the precious everyday-ness of life with this little family of three that I love so much. I'm sure that the W. R. Binghams are looking forward to having their home to themselves. (You know the saying--fish and houseguests start to smell after three days.) After 15 weeks, I'll be so glad to see my man, my gardens, family, friends. How can I be homesick for two different countries? Two different homes? Guess I'll find out! In 5 weeks--that's 35 days, y'all.

Until then, my glass is more than half-full.