Well its happened again folks. My jeans no longer fit. Oops. To be fair I am innocent. What would you do living in a city of endless gastronomic experiences? It is overwhelming actually because there are not enough meals in a life time to enjoy all the possibilities here. So what is the solution? Eat six meals a day. Duh. Oh, and stop at every corner bakery that you see.
So you want updates? How about a list of all the things that complete my days.
1. Waking up every morning and eating a delicious papaya for breakfast. (obviously the first one is related to food)
2. The sign in the restaurant below my apartment that says "We do not see serve beer before 10am".
3. The early morning sun hitting my face as I step out of my apartment to go to work. Even in a concrete jungle where mother nature lacks, you still get the warmth of the sun.
3. The beagle-wiener-dog mix I see on my walk to the bus stop for work. She always has her pink coat on so she stays warm. I think her and my dog Dwight would be a really cute couple. Yes this is what I think about.
4. The smell of Coxinhas being made in the bakery for the day's customers. Watch the pronunciation people: Cosheenyas is how the word sounds. Dad, again, I can only imagine your butchering of this word. This delicacy is a fried doughy ball filled with garlic, chicken or meat, and spices. More on this in a bit.
5. The sleepy twin boys that snuggle up to their mom as they wait for the school bus. One is always being held while the other latches on to his moms legs. Do they switch off every day who gets to be carried?
6. The fresh juice smoothie I get every morning at the juice stand next to the bus stop. There is a counter filled with sliced maracujá, mango, goiaba, star fruit, watermelon, pineapple and I just point to all the different slivers I want thrown into the blender. It it a coincidence that the stand is called Suco Princesinha (Little Princess Juices)? Pretty sure it is just meant to be.
7. The chipper money collector on the bus who always makes my morning start on a good note.
"Bom dia, mosa tudo bem?"
"Tudo e você?"
"Tudo. Bom trabalho, Linda". It is that simple
8. My morning cup of tea with milk and honey that I sip while reading up on the day's news and enjoying the peace and quiet in the office before the market opens.
9. Getting the daily delivery menus sent to my work email with lunch options for the day. I like to copy and paste the descriptions into google images so I know exactly what I am ordering.
11. Speaking three different languages everyday at work. Sometimes all at once. Talk about a brain twister! There are some points when it is only after the conversation has ended that I register what language it was in.
12. Having the delivery man tell me my lunch has arrived.
13. My Internship. Here I am, two and a half months in at Deutsche Bank and I can surely say that it has been one of the most frustrating, rewarding, challenging and intense experiences of my life. Everyday at work I have this image in my head of me dribbling down the field with the soccer ball. I am running, running, my arms pumping but I have no idea where I am going. I am running so fast that I barely have control of the ball but somehow it still stays at my feet. Sometimes I lose the ball and run into a wall. Then I get it back and just keep running, faster and faster. Occasionally I score a goal. But no one cheers because there is no time to cheer. Have to get back on defense now. And then I get the ball back and I think okay I got it this time, I am going to score again. I start running and running so fast. Speedy quick. But my legs move faster then my brain, I lose composure and then bam, I have lost the ball. Got to get it back.
14. The view of São Paulo from our fourteenth floor gigantic glass windows. It really is a sight. Concrete for miles.
15. My walk from the bus stop to university after work. After sitting down all day walking is the best feeling.
16. My trainer Fabio at the gym. He knows how much I love the bakery next door. So needless to say there is no slacking aloud.
17. Going to the bakery next to my university before class. I have becomes friends with the two ladies behind the counter. So much so that they make sure to have fresh shrimp Coxinhas ready for me at 8:30pm when I tend to make my daily visits. I am about half way through trying one of everything in the display cases. Every day they recommend a new sweet. My favorite so far: Maracujá Mouse. I think it is adorable how my two bakery lady friends smirk as they hand my treat everyday. Its as if they know I am going to blow up like a balloon but are totally fine with it. It's Fabio against the Bakery Gals. I am just caught in the middle. Well actually my middle is caught in the middle.
18. My International Finance professor. He is the most adorable older man in the world and not to mention brilliant. I learn the most from him and he really makes a point to include me in the class. It was also fun when we talked about the Bretton Woods Conference because I got to be like thats home!! He was very excited.
19. The taxi drivers I meet every night who bring me home from school. It is always exciting to see where the conversation is going to go. Food, politics, fashion, night life, economics, my love life, caipirinhas, Brazilian tongue twisters, their families, my safety. These 15 minute chats three nights a week are some of the most insightful conversations I have had while living here in São Paulo.
20. Watching the Brazilian Soap Opera Salve Jeorge with my roommate Domi every night after we get home from work. This telenovela really puts Grey's Anatomy and Gossip Girl to shame.
21. Spending Saturday's feasting with friends. Normally it can take up to two hours to get your table since the whole city decides to go out to eat for lunch on Saturdays. Is this a problem? No! Why? Because you just order round after round of caipirinhas to drink on the street while you wait! What does this mean? Well by the time 5:00 rolls around and you are getting seated for lunch you are a long ways away from sobriety and very close to ordering one of everything on the menu!
22. Spending Sunday's walking to the different parks and museums here in São Paulo with friends.
23. Exploring the different outdoor markets/food fairs every weekend. Every Sunday there is an incredible outdoor market with fruits, vegetables meat, spices. A lot like the one I wrote about before but much bigger. I like to go for a run on the bridge above it and then stop at the market to do my week's grocery shopping on the way home. THEN, there is a another food market in the plaza a block from my house with all sorts of delicacies from around the whole country and the world. I normally go here for breakfast on Saturday and Sunday's and buy shrimp tempura, bacalao fritters oh and coconut cake. Yes, this is my version of a farmers breakfast.
24. Going out every Friday and Saturday night. Yes, I am completely sleep deprived but I cannot give up my two nights at the baladas dancing funky just go catch up on some sleep eye.
25. Crawling into bed at night after the whirlwind of events that make up every day here and being so excited to wake up the next morning for more endless adventure.
It is winding down here folks. Can you believe I only have a month a half left? I am determined to keep you up to date on my last excursions here. We started this experience together and we will end it the same way. I miss you all very much and think about you constantly. Thanks for reading!
Beijosssss
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Monday, May 6, 2013
Casual Saturdays
"We met on the first day of Carnival. I didn't speak a word of English and well, Leo knew no Portuguese. But the language barrier was not a problem since after all Carnival is really less talk more .... " She starts to laugh as she takes my right hand.
"We spent the whole next two days together and then on the second night Leo wanted to bring me back to his hotel. But the hotel rules wouldn't let non guests stay the night. My hotel had the same rule, but we were desperate to find a place where we could continue Carnival's festivities!" Ze continues, laughing more now.
"So what did you do?" I ask, my curiosity growing at the developing story. Ze motions for my left hand.
"Well, Leo said that he had some big duffle bags that we could use to sleep on so he ran up to his room to get them. After walking and walking, we came up to the Pilar Cathedral, famous for its gold alter, and decided to lay down the duffle bags on the steps going up the church." She is smirking now.
"We got all situated and then, well, continued Carnival in the duffle bag there on the Cathedral steps."
"Did anyone see you?" I asked, my eyes widening.
"Oh just wait," she responds, setting down my hands in her lap as she searches for the nail file. After searching for a few seconds in her messy drawer she finds it and takes my right hand again.
"So there we were...you know, and all the sudden I see a camera flash out of the corner of my eye. And I am like what is that? I look over and there are three news reporters from Brazil's number one news channel, Globo, taking photos and filming Leo and I in the duffle bag!" At this point Ze has forgotten about my hands as the story escalates. "I sit up pulling my shirt down, god my hair was a mess! You know how it gets? People were gathering around the scene and soon enough EVERYONE know what had been going on. Leo got very mad at this invasion of privacy, but what did he expect there we were on the Church steps in a duffle bag!" Ze is laughing so hard now and I start to laugh too.
"So what happened next?" I ask, sitting on the edge of my seat. Ze picks up my right hand again and starts to file down my nails.
"Well, after the situation settled down, we gathered the duffle bags and each went back to our hotels."
"And that was it?" I say, beginning to feel paniked about the situation.
"Calma," she says, clearly enjoying the suspense. "We both went back to our hotels planning to meet up the next day. " Ze stops as if that was the end of the story.
"Anddddd??"
"Well by the third day I was getting sick of just kissing. I mean up until that point we would just kiss and kiss because there was nothing else to do, we had no way to communicate. Sometimes we would stop and look at each other and then what? So the next day I took Leo to the book store and we each bought an English-Portuguese dictionary. This helped a lot because we both were able to form broken sentences in each other languages and get to know each other better. Kissing is fun, we both know that, but two days of just kissing! I was going crazy!"
A funny image forms in my head of Leo and Ze standing amongst the Carnival madness looking up words between pecks.
"So what happened that night?" I ask curious to see if the couple would make their second appearance on national television.
"Well, luckily Leo had made friends with the security guard of his hotel and paid him off to let me come back with him that night."
Phew, I thought, the duffle bag scene would really get old two nights in a row. Ze starts clipping my cuticles.
"And so we went back and spent the night together and it was really nice. But by the next day I was really sick of the language barrier. I didn't like not being able to fully communicate you know? So I decided that morning I didn't want to see Leo anymore. I gathered my things and went back to my hotel to meet up with friends. I had barely seen them since I had spent every minute with Leo."
"What? No!" I protest. Ze looks up briefly before returning to my cuticles.
"So after breakfast my friends and I went to our favorite bar to begin the fourth day of Carnival. And of course who is there? Leo. 'Coraçao de pedra!' he yells as me 'coraçao de pedra!' Apparently that was one of the only Portuguese expressions he knew!" Ze explains. She shakes the light pink bottle of nail polish and motions for me to lay my hand flat on her knee.
"So what happened?" I ask as Ze starts the first coat.
"Nothing. My friends and I left and I didn't see him the rest of the day."
"So that was it?"
"No. Wait", she replies beginning on my second hand.
"The next day I woke up and could not believe what I had done. How did I not realize? I was completely in love with Leo! How could I have told him I didn't want to see him anymore? I wanted to marry him! But we were leaving! I had to go home! But I had to see him one more time. I had to tell him! But, you know, there were no cell phones or Facebook this was 1991!" At this point Ze has completely forgotten about my last pinky finger she still has to paint.
"So I quickly got dressed and sprinted to the Leo's hotel. I went to talk to the front desk but they wouldn't let me go up to his room. So I went outside and started throwing rocks at his window".
"LEOOO," I yelled. "LEEEOOO, WAKE UP!! I love you! Please I am so sorry! Please wake up if you hear me! LEOOO. But he didn't come to the window. I dont know if he just didn't hear me or was so heart broken that he did not want to see me anymore. God I was a mess, sobbing like a baby! Do you want the same color on your toes?"
"Yes please."
"So, you know, I got home later that day and went to work the next morning and what was on the front page of the paper? A picture of Leo and I on the church steps in the duffle bag with my shirt half way up and my hair a complete wreck! My boss set the paper down in front of me without saying a word. But I didn't care. Seeing the picture made me miss Leo even more. I was heart broken. What was I going to do? I didn't have any money! I had just spent it all on Carnival. How was I going to go back to Ouro Preto and find him? I asked everyone I knew to lend me money for the bus ticket and after a week I had gathered enough to go back in search for Leo. I knew he wasn't going to be there but I had to go. I first went to the hotel where he stayed and begged them to give me his information. Anything even his last name or some address he had. I knew nothing about him. But they wouldn't. I even offered to bribe them but they wouldn't say a word. I then went to all the different places we had been together thinking maybe he would be there: the church steps, the park, the bar where we met. But nothing. He was gone."
"So you never saw him again?"
"No."
"But why didn't you go back to the hotel to ask again!? You could of gotten the information out of them if you tried harder!! You really had no way of finding him?!" I was becoming very emotional. I would not accept the end of Ze and Leo's affair.
"All I knew was that he was a taxi cab driver from New York, whose name was Leo." I look at her without saying anything as she finishes clipping my right big toe.
"So anyways," Ze continues, "I went home, broke up with my boyfriend [casual side note], and tried to move on. I was such a mess. Then I got married a few years later but I divorced the guy. To this day I have never met someone that makes me feel the way Leo did. I am still in love with him, you know? I kept the newspaper with our picture because it is the only physical memory I have. Twenty years later and its still in he drawer of my bed side table." Ze laughs again, but she looks sad.
"I want to write the story on Google to see if he sees it. Will you help me write it in English to post on Google? They say that is the easiest way to find people."
"Of course! We can write it together. You two have to see each other again! We have to find Leo!" And before she responds, a high pitched squealing voice comes running over.
"Zzzeeeeeee, honeeyyy oh how I've missssed you!! I'm so sssorry I haven't been in in so long! I have just been so bussssyyy." I look up and there is a 6 foot 2 transvestite with the biggest fake boobs I have ever seen.
"Paula! Where have you been? Here I am always calling you to go out and you never call me back! We have to go out and find some sexy men!!" Ze replies.
"I know honey, tomorrow! Listen. To. This. We are going to a party at Vila Country where all there is are big hunky hotties! You're coming!" She squeals.
"Oh sweetie that sounds so fun!! I just have to make sure my daughter isn't going to the same party because I hate it when she sees me making out with everyone!!" The two start laughing. I am well, speechless. And before I know it in walks two more transvestites.
"Paula!! Oh my got what are you doing here??? You look amazingg!!! Have you been doing yoga???"
"I mean if that is what you want to call it!!" Paula replies to her friend as they all crack up. I am beginning to catch on
"Ze, do you please have time to do my nails before I start my shift tonight? Look at them they are a disaster!!"
"Of course sweetie. Let me just finish painting this precious little Gringa's toes and then ill do you yours!!"
The three ladies sit down on the couch next to us.
"So then, there I was, in the hotel room and he is refusing to pay me. And I am like hello???"
"What do you mean refusing to pay you? Like does he know how it works?" Ze replies.
"Right? So you know what I did?"
"What?" they all say together.
"I took the two fancy bottles of champagne he ordered up to the room and threw them at the wall! That really got the message across!"
Okay am I really witnessing what I think I am witnessing right now?
"Well good for you, Paula! You show him whose boss! I hate it when they think they can just walk all over you. Its like um, no! This is my job!"
"And what about you Esmerelda? How is business?" asks Ze.
"Business is good. I have been going to the nicer clubs and stuff so I can pick up the millionaires. You just cant beat what they pay!"
"Good! So you are making good money then?" Ze confirms.
"Yes. We are in high season!" The all laugh and squeal.
With that I begin to take a better look around to see what kind of salon I had actually walked into that Saturday afternoon after my casual walk through the neighborhood. And what do you know? It just so happens to be the exact gathering place for all the prostitutes I see every night on the street corners around my apartment. And Ze, my new friend, Leo's long lost lover, was there go to gal for all last minute preparations/alterations before the night's rendezvous commence.
"All done fofinha!" Ze states as she finishes off the last coat. "Paula help her put her flip flops on so she doesn't mess up her toes!" Paula helps me slip into my havaianas and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
"So nice to meet you sweetie!!"
"You too!" I say my voice cracking. Why am I so nervous?
"Fofinha do you want to book another appointment for next weekend?"
"No thats okay I think Ill just call later this week." Will I?
I give Ze a kiss on the cheek and head out the door where I am greeted by that humid Paulistan air with honking horns and the smell of burnt rubber. Did that really all just happen? Did I just make friends with prostitues? Better yet did some middle aged lady just confess her romantic love affair to me? Just another day in the life, I guess. Walking up the street, my freshly painted toes sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Well, whats next?
Monday, March 25, 2013
A Casual Dinner with the Prince of Saudi Arabia
So there I was standing at the bus stop Tuesday
afternoon after a chaotic day of work when my phone rang. Looking down at the
screen and seeing the unknown number I got a little nervous. Needless to say,
after a few caipirinhas on the weekends you never really know who you are
giving your number to. Putting my doubts aside, I answered and was happy to
hear a women's voice on the other end.
"Hi Elley, it's
Isabela from the abroad office. I was calling because we would like to invite
you to a dinner on Thursday with the Prince of Saudi Arabia." Ummmmmmm.
"He is
here visiting Brazil and the FAAP [My university] has organized a dinner for
him and you are invited." Ummmmmmmmmmmmm.
"It is going to be a really nice event at the President of the
University's house, you know the casa rosada (pink house)
that sits on the hill above the FAAP. We think you would enjoy it....
Elley are you there?"
"Uh, um, oh, uh yeah sorry wait so dinner with a prince? and did you say
Saudi Arabia? I thought it was just Prince Harry that was the only prince
candidate these days?"
"Yes, the Prince of Saudi Arabia. Can we confirm that you are going?"
"But what do I wear? Is it formal? I have class that night. Oh wait,
I will skip it duh, its dinner with a prince. Should I bring
anything?"Yeah, Elley, bring a salad. The Prince is taking care of dessert
and the Brazilian ambassador of France, don't worry, he is taking care of the
main dish. Okay, so yeah dumb question. I can hear Isabela laughing on the
other end.
"No you do not need to bring anything. But yes, it is pretty formal so
make sure to dress in something nice. Please arrive at 8:30. I will send you
the address via email."
And just like that I was invited to dinner with
the Prince of Saudi Arabia. I feel bad his name is actually Badr Al Saud but
for dramatic purposes I am going to keep referring to him as the
Prince.
Thursday came in what felt like an hour after my
phone conversation with Isabela on Tuesday afternoon. On the metro home after
work I realized I hadn't even thought about what I was going to wear. This is
very unlike me- to be unprepared fashion wise. But with work pretty much any
brain activity that does not relate to understanding the financial industry in
Portuguese has been put on the back burner. Anyways, to save the day who came
through? My Fairy Godmother? No. My real Mother! Arriving home the door man
handed me a package that she sent with some new clothes for work from the one
and only Marshalls. Among the new items (that all fit perfectly)was an adorable
navy blue skirt that I was able to combine with a cream colored blouse and my
favorite shawl I got at Goodwill for $2. My black leather pumps that I bought
for my interview at DB finished off the outfit.
Wanting to get more done up than usual, I
decided to put on some of my roommate's bronzer. Bad idea. For those of you who
don't know, I do not understand how to use any kind of makeup that goes beyond
your classic Cover Girl mascara. The few times I have gone above and beyond, I
have a professional (aka my SLU roommate Taylor Capuano) help me. But I was
feeling confident and like I knew what I was doing so I got the fluffy, soft
brush and started applying bronzer all over my face. Within about three seconds
I actually looked like a leather bag. No, a pleather bag, because leather looks
nice. Like, Snookie from Jersey Shore had nothing on me. Panicked, and with a
good 7 minutes before I had to leave, I scoured the bathroom
medicine cabinet for something to help normalize my face. Reverting
to good old soap and water, I was able to wash off the caked on mess. Sorry
Prince, no bronzer for you. I hope Cover Girl mascara is enough.
In the taxi ride over the whole event that was
about to happen hit me. I am about to go and have dinner with a prince. Not
only that, I actually know absolutely no one at this party. Okay, don't freak
out just grab the first glass of wine you see. Plus, even though it might only
be in the eyes of your dad, you have always been a princess. This is just a
dinner between one Royal Highness to the next.
After giving my name to the security guards at
the gate, I walked up the long drive way to the grand entrance of the Pink
House. Now, I want you to imagine the scene in the movie Princess Diaries when
she has to attend her first dinner party with all the royals and important
people. That is how I felt walking through the stately archway to be greeted by
the President of the FAAP along with the Brazilian Ambassador to France. The
walls of the house are dripping with famous art pieces, the ceilings of
chandeliers, the halls of elaborate statues. I make my way into what seems to be the first of three different
living rooms filled with velvet couches to see the Prince standing there. Oh hello Prince. I had greeted
everyone else with a kiss but does he get a handshake? Crap did you really just
trip on the rug. Recover from the stumble. Damn high heals.
The photographer is waiting there to take our
picture as I stick out my hand to introduce myself. "Hi, I'm Elley.
Such a pleasure to meet you."We smile, click, woah flash, and I continue
down the line of important people.
After making my way around the room I find two
girls that look my age (thank god) and immediately introduce myself.
We instantly bond over the fact that "holy s*** were having dinner with a
prince." A minute into our conversation a waiter appears with a nice
chilled glass of Moët & Chandon (thank god, again) and the night is off to a good
start.
As we mingled, delicious Brazilian appetizers were
brought around: mini pastels (remember these doughy pockets
of yumminess?), fried cheese balls (a delicacy), stuffed mushrooms, pigs
in a blanket. Yes, fried cheese balls and pigs in a blanket are not exactly
what I would think to serve a prince either, but these were surprisingly
gourmet. Tip for future dinner parties: easy on the champagne during
the hors d'oeuvre hour. Second tip for future dinner parties: Always check chin
for hanging pieces of cheese after biting into fried cheese ball. It
is unclassy to have piece of cheese dangling from chin while talking
to Brazilian ambassador.
The American Diplomat at the party
was coincidentally from Bedford, New Hampshire! I just
about hugged her when we made the connection. I think she was happy too
because being fellow New Hampshirans (I made this up) we both know how NO ONE
knows where tiny, dinky Live Free or Die is on the map. You either say you are
from Boston, or forget it. Anyways, it was a funny
small-world coincidence us both being there with the Prince. I am of
course, forgetting her name. I tried googling it. Please if anyone knows, comment below!
THEN ALL THE SUDDEN a brass quartet came out to
announce that dinner was served. Okay just kidding it was just the chef. But
that would of really made it like a Disney movie!
Yes, the moment I was waiting for: Dinner for
Royals (note plural, I'm including myself). Entering the dinning room there is
a table the size of a mini swimming pool lined with silver platters and trays
full of, well, incredibleness. Taking my white china plate I approach the
princely buffet and request to be served a taste of everything. As my plate
makes its way around the line it is filled with sauteed palmitos, filet mignon
in a red wine sauce, warmed dolmades with an egg lemon sauce, farofa with fried
banana, lamb stew, roasted carrots, wild rice with pine nuts and apricots. It
was the kind of food that makes you hungrier as you eat because it is so good.
I went back for seconds. Then thirds. Okay and then maybe I just went back for
a few more dolmades... and lamb stew. Dessert was a combination of coconut flan
(never tasted anything like it, mom please learn how to make this for my
birthday), warmed figs, chocolate and pecan gelato, and the
most magnificent plate of fresh fruit you have ever seen. It really
was something of of Ancient Roman times.
Just as I am finishing my coconut flan and
sliced persimmons, a friend of the prince who I had met earlier that evening
asks if I would like to join them on their night out on the town.
"Oh, I really
appreciate the invite, but I actually have to work tomorrow super early."
"So,
you're joining us then?" Confused, I realize how ridiculous I am being.
Duh I'm joining them. When else in my life time will I have the opportunity to
go out clubbing with a Prince?
"Yes, I
will be."And ten minutes later I was whisked away in the Prince's bullet
proof SUV followed by a SWAT van. Not exactly the white Stallions we think of
as prince's transportation but hey.
Arriving at the club, we had to enter through a
special side door that the body guards arranged before hand. This is when I
started to feel like Beyonce. We then were led to a special VIP table where
endless cocktails awaited us. Okay, this is sweet. To top the night off, who else did we see at the club? Oh no big deal just Paul Walker. You know the extremely good looking blond guy from the Fast and Furious movies? I just about fainted. He is actually more beautiful in person than in the movies if that is even possible. But I digress, back to the Prince!
The whole evening was a blast. I arrived knowing no one and left on a complete high from all the magnificent people I got to meet. I also felt much more connected to the FAAP community which is important for me coming from Concord and SLU, where community has always been a huge part of my life.
Okay I am tired of writing. Here are some pics because I know that most of you just scrolled down to the bottom without reading ;)
Some of the numerous dishes I indulged in: salad, meat quiche, dalmades, farofa with fried banana and lamb stew.
Grilled palmitos, filet mignon, Israeli couscous
The Prince and I. La deeee daaaaaaaaaa
My two new friends Amanda and Isabel and I with the President of the FAAP. Maybe one of the nicest men I have ever met, also very funny. He enjoys a nice cigar after dinner.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Things on the side
So don't think that just because I sleep a good 6 hours on average every night that that means when the weekend comes I just go to bed until Sunday. Oh no. I am still fully taking advantage of the spectacular night life scene here in São Paulo along with the multitude of gastronomic opportunities and do not plan on changing that. Anyways, here are some pics/videos from the last few weeks that I have been meaning to share with you all.
Last weekend some friends and I went to the Mercado Municipal, a ginormous covered market place in the center of São Paulo with gorgeous stain-glass windows, where you can find any spice, meat, fruit, nut, cheese along with famous Brazilian delicacies. The best part is all the free samples. Every stand wants your business so how to do they entice you? By giving you a taste of what ever your heart desires. You literally can get a full meal just walking through the place. Its like Costco, but better! .
One of the many fruit stands with endless samples.
Here are some sausages with spices above. Have you ever seen so many?
You can't go to the Mercado Municipal without trying the infamous Mortadella sandwich: slices of Mortadella meat (aka Bologna) with melted cheese and a hint of sun-dried tomato between french bread. The meat is the main part of the meal as you can see by the thickness. Is it good? Um, sort of. A little too heavy for me to be honest. Does it sop up a hangover? Without a doubt. Will I eat it again? Probably not, but everyone MUST try it.
I have moved on from the classic lemon caipirinha to a strawberry/kiwi one. Let me tell you folks, this is it: the world's best cocktail. I am literally counting down the days until I get home and can make these for everyone. Get ready people.
An unbelievable feijoada meal a few Saturdays ago at the gorgeous Como Assim restaurant. You walk down a set of stairs and are suddenly in a tropical garden with live samba music and melt-in-your-mouth eats. Feijoada, a bean stew that on average contains 5-6 different types of beef and pork, is a typical dish eaten here for lunch on Saturdays, accompanied by rice, farofa, couve, and fried pieces of pork. We also ordered a side of Calabresa (type of sausage) that came with sauteed onions, toasted baguette slices and an unbelievable green, garlic mayonnaise to make little sandwiches. We ate and we ate. And then we took a nap. If you think Thanksgiving dinner is hard to handle, try feijoada.
Here is a bunch of us infront of the famous Teatro Municipal after spending the afternoon at yet another Cervejada (kegger sponsored by the University).
Cervejada. This one was at a bar right across the street from our university so it made it easier to go to class afterwards.....yeah....
Our University put on a White and Glow party where everyone had to wear white so you could glow on the dance floor. There was special face paint and an open bar!
This pic was taken of my friend Elsa and I at a water slide darty (day party) I went to a few weekends ago. It was an absolute blast. I copy and pasted two links to youtube videos of all of us doing the water slide so you can get a better idea.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HQeYPW1Bws&feature=youtu.be
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfS1o1Tdi8c&feature=youtu.be
Thats all for now! Hope you all have a good week and we will talk soon! Beijossss
Internship has begun!
Oi Pessoal! It has been two months since I arrived in São Paulo and here I am, living in an apartment, going to school and doing my internship (with a few caipirinhas on the side). Yes, my internship at Deutsche bank has begun and the days are flying. To give you an idea of the 360 degree turn that my daily routine has gone through I am going to compare the two below.
Before Internship:
11:30: Open eyes to the bright sun streaming into my room accompanied by the chaotic noises of the hustle and bustle on the city streets below. Roll over.
12:00: Acknowledge that it is 12:00 and that I should get up. Roll over.
12:30: Dream about food.
12:33: Wake up very hungry.
12:34: Go into kitchen in search for breakfast.
12:35: Put on water for tea, start slicing and dicing fresh papaya, persimmons, and banana to put with my greek yogurt and granola.
12:40: Sit down to a delicious breakfast alongside a soothing cup of English breakfast tea with a spoonful of honey and a splash of milk.
12:47: Finish breakfast. Move from table to couch where I proceed to spend a ridiculous amount of time Facebook stalking.
1:15: Contemplate if it is too soon to eat all the leftovers in the fridge.
1:15:30: Eat all left overs in fridge.
1:23: Okay now what?
1:24: Hum de dum
1:27: Twiddle my thumbs
1:28: Look at the daily photos my parents have emailed me of our dogs Dwight and Riley.
1:30: Go through all my tagged Facebook pictures starting from Sophomore year in High School.
1:30-4:30: Combination of nothing, eating, doing random things on computer, eating, nothing, blogging, etc.
4:30: Get up from couch, head rush.
4:31: Stare out the window.
4:32: Walk into room to get out clothes for gym.
4:33: Consider not going to the gym.
4:34: Remind myself of my uncontrollable gluttonous behaviors
4:35: Change for gym, get books ready for class
5:00: Saunter out of my apartment building to be greeted by the typical smells of car exhaust, grilled meat and burnt rubber.
5:30-10:30: Gym, shower, class
10:30: Take bus home. Feel oddly protected by the prostitutes I pass on my two block walk home from the bus stop.
10:45: Make dinner with my roommate Domi.
11:00: While eating, catch up on the Brazilian soap opera "Salve Jorge"
11:30: Check what I have missed on Facebook. Nothing
11:30-1:30:Spend next two hours doing god knows what
1:30: Write in journal.
1:45: Drift off to the eerie sounds of the dark streets below.
***Side note: Okay so yes this was my typical day. But I did do some minor things on the side, the best being my excursion to the Museu da Lingua Portuguesa (Portuguese Language Museum). Yes, one of few museums in the whole world dedicated solely to the origin and development of a language. It is incredible how many words in Portuguese come from Indigenous tribes such as the Tupi that were here before Brazil was colonized. And then how many words have African roots due to the immense Brazilian slave trade that lasted almost 3 centuries. Also, did you know that Portuguese is spoken on every continent? That Portuguese Navy sure was busy. And that the word Saudade in Portuguese is classified as one of the most difficult words to translate into other languages especially English. Now I bet you want to know what it means. Well go Google it. Because if I just gave you one word that kind of alludes to its meaning, well that would defeat the purpose of me telling you that it is one of the most difficult words to translate.
Another great thing about the museum is that it really appeals to the student budget since it only costs a mere $1.50. Great. Also, I think that museums are a good thing to do by yourself. Normally I like to have a companion when I go out to explore, but museums are different. You can go at your own pace. You don't have to worry if you are taking to long. Or the opposite, you don't have to awkwardly stand and wait while the other person reads every last word, including the exit signs. Anyways, I felt like a very good exchange student doing this mini trip and also really learned a lot. I think it will be fun to go back two or three more times as my Portuguese gets increasingly better so I can get even more out of the museum.
Okay, now moving on to my new daily routine!
Internship:
5:50: First alarm goes off. Snooze
6:00: Second alarm goes off: Snooze
6:10: Third alarm goes off: Snooze
6:12: Wake up panicked from a deep sleep: "CRAP, what time is it. Did I oversleep?"
6:13: Turn on water for coffee (yes, English Breakfast just doesn't do the trick at 6:15 in the morning). Get out fruit and yogurt for morning breakfast.
6:15: Sit down for breakfast while reading up on the daily news. Pictures of dogs from parents have not been sent yet.
6:20: Contemplate if wearing my pink flowery shirt on the first day of work is too El Woods from Legally Blond.
6:21: Decide to go with navy blue skirt and white blouse to be on the safe side. (Don't worry pink shirt was worn the next day. #ElWoodsismygirl)
6:25-7: Get ready for work, organize materials for class, put together gym bag-don't forget socks
7:00: Select snacks to bring to work: banana granola bar, figs, apple, really yummy mini cake with chocolate filling.
7:15: Leave apartment to make the 7:35 bus to the office.
7:35-7:55: Crowded, sweaty bus ride with grumpy Paulistans.
7:55-7:58: Make a pit stop in McDonald's next to my office to take a bath in their sink after sweating through my clothes. Thanks for the free paper towels.
8:00: Begin my day.
9:00: Brazilian Market opens. The next four hours pass without even looking at the clock.
1:30: Lunch time. Lunch time in the office is really quite an experience. One where soggy tuna sandwiches brought from home in a Tupperware are unheard of, and pieces of steak hanging over the plate with rice, beans and french fries are the norm. Its hard to go out to lunch because when the market is open its go time. There is no lunch break. Especially because you are not dealing with just the Brazilian Market. You have London and NYC too which are on different time zones. Not to worry though, because around 11:30 a very nice guy (whose name I am forgetting but will fill in) comes around with the equivalent of an Oxford Dictionary full of different menus that include every food group/category from every region in the world. I could probably spend a good three hours going through the whole thing. Where do you even start when there is salmon with a maracujá sauce; filet mignon; slowly roasted chicken over a coal five; seared tuna; nioki in a garlic cream sauce; thin crust pizza with prosciutto, arugula and slivers of parmesan cheese; every salad you could imagine salad; veal; risotto; a whole Brazilian Churrasco; sushi; cheese plates; duck. Its like okay, first day of work you are trying to get a grip on how the market operates, all the different systems, bonds, currencies, interest rates, central banks, the phones don't stop ringing, some random bell keeps going off, the office is a mixture of Portuguese, Spanish, English. Your head is about to explode. And then you are supposed to choose between salmon, filet mignon and a wild mushroom risotto for lunch? I mean this really almost put me over the top. I'm thinking, yeah i'll have one of every thing, a tasting menu if you will. Do interns get to do that? No? Crap. After what seemed like the most difficult decision of my life, I went with the salmon in a maracujá sauce over a bed of mixed greens with tomatoes, artichoke hearts, sauteed zucchini, some unbelievable cheese and avocado for my first lunch as an Intern at Deutsche Bank. It was delicious. But my relationship with the these meals is very touch and go. As soon as I'm finished I am ready to try the next best thing. Think of any college male, like that, but with food.
2:30: Lunch time winds down and the office picks back up. Phones, bells, chats, emails, speakers, videos. And me? Well I am a deer in the headlights. My brain is a sponge that is quickly begining to get heavier and heavier. Swaps, spots, outrights, forwards, options. Oh sorry, is that jiberish?
3:15: The afternoon sun streams through the gigantic glass windows. I feel like I am in the sky as I sit and gaze out at the view of the concrete jungle from our fourteenth floor office. A helicopter comes and lands on top of the building across the street. Woah. Thats when you know you are really high up.
3:17: Coffee. It is important for the bank not to have all their employees take a nap on their keyboards after eating such a ginormous lunch. How do they hedge this risk? (new bank lingo). Well, how would you like a delicious café com leite in an adorable pocka dotted cup with just the push of a button? Or an espresso from the fancy Nespresso machine that George Clooney uses? I don't consider myself an avid coffee drinker. I really do prefer tea in terms of a stimulant. However, the coffee from these machines is really something remarkable. And having such fun little cups to drink it out of makes it all the better.
3:30-5:30: In general, the office in the afternoon slows down. The London Market is closed at this point, the market in NYC has calmed down, everyone gets to take a deep breath. I like this period because I can ask a lot of questions and clarify things that have gone on during the day.
5:30: Run out of the office to get the bus to school.
5:35-6:25: Another hot, not as sweaty bus ride, with grumpy Paulistans to the FAAP (my university).
7-10:30: Class, gym, shower
10:30: Take bus home. Again, feel oddly protected by prostitutes on the street. With two or three on every corner, no one pays attention to me as I scurry by in the shadows behind them.
10:45: Make dinner with Domi.
11:00: While eating, look at daily pictures my parents have sent of our dogs.
11:10: Check out what I have missed on Facebook. Nothing.
11:20: Barely keeping my eyes open, change into my PJs and brush my teeth.
11:30: Dead to the world.
So as you can you can see everyone, things have really picked up down here in São Paulo! And I will have you know, that I absolutely love my internship. I like to think of my college studies as a puzzle and this internship is the last piece: The first piece is International Economics that then attaches to Spanish. My Caribbean and Latin American studies minor slides in below. My Portuguese is the next piece. Then comes my study abroad experience here in São Paulo with my different classes in finance/international relations. And then to bring it all together into one big melting pot is my internship. That is how perfect it is. I am speaking English, Portuguese and Spanish. Our region is the Caribbean and Latin America so all day I am researching and reading up about everything that is going on regarding the economy and politics. But then the coolest part is that I get to see how these political and economic factors/changes affect the market. And it is right there in front of me! I watch it happen. It is seriously so cool. Sometimes I get goosebumps. Am I a total nerd? Furthermore, the team I work with could not be more supportive and patient in terms of getting me on board, explaining concepts I dont understand, including me in conference calls/emails. Finance is not rocket science. It just takes your brain and twists it in ways your brain has never been twisted before. I think if I were to have a cat scan right now my brain would look like a towel being wrung out to dry. You know that motion of squeezing and scrunching?
My brilliant Mother, before my first day of work, told me not to think of it all as some big scary beast that is impossible to conquer, but rather to compare it to working in a restaurant. You arrive on your first day barely knowing anything. You recognize you're dealing with food but you don't know how all the different ingredients mix together to make bacon carbonara, seafood scampi or tomato bruschetta. It is all very fast paced because people are hungry and don't want to wait around. There is so much to learn and at some points you doubt your ability to master it all. But then you make a little breakthrough that leads to another baby step. Someone asks you a question and you know the answer. Soon enough everything is clicking. You can explain the differences between the bacon carbonara and seafood scampi without thinking twice. People are coming to you for help. And before you know it, you have grasped every last detail about the restaurant.
Yes, these wise words from my Moma really helped get my mentality properly situated as I walked through the big glass door that first Monday morning. And now, two weeks later, I am still in the making-baby-steps stage. Little tiny ones. But things are sinking in. Instead of learning pasta dishes, its learning to differentiate between a spot trade and a swap. Yes, okay a bit less appetizing but hey, at least I get to gnaw on a big piece of steak as the figures and stats settle in. It is all very surreal but I am happy and feel like I am finally beginning to fit into this Paulistan metropolis as I bustle through the streets in my work clothes and Brazilian leather flats.
P.S. If you want to see the street view of my office building go ahead and copy the address into
https://maps.google.com/
Deutsche Bank - Av. Brg. Faria Lima, 3900 - São Paulo, Brazil
Oh and yes there is a helicopter pad on top of the building. And yes my goal is to land on it.
Before Internship:
11:30: Open eyes to the bright sun streaming into my room accompanied by the chaotic noises of the hustle and bustle on the city streets below. Roll over.
12:00: Acknowledge that it is 12:00 and that I should get up. Roll over.
12:30: Dream about food.
12:33: Wake up very hungry.
12:34: Go into kitchen in search for breakfast.
12:35: Put on water for tea, start slicing and dicing fresh papaya, persimmons, and banana to put with my greek yogurt and granola.
12:40: Sit down to a delicious breakfast alongside a soothing cup of English breakfast tea with a spoonful of honey and a splash of milk.
12:47: Finish breakfast. Move from table to couch where I proceed to spend a ridiculous amount of time Facebook stalking.
1:15: Contemplate if it is too soon to eat all the leftovers in the fridge.
1:15:30: Eat all left overs in fridge.
1:23: Okay now what?
1:24: Hum de dum
1:27: Twiddle my thumbs
1:28: Look at the daily photos my parents have emailed me of our dogs Dwight and Riley.
1:30: Go through all my tagged Facebook pictures starting from Sophomore year in High School.
1:30-4:30: Combination of nothing, eating, doing random things on computer, eating, nothing, blogging, etc.
4:30: Get up from couch, head rush.
4:31: Stare out the window.
4:32: Walk into room to get out clothes for gym.
4:33: Consider not going to the gym.
4:34: Remind myself of my uncontrollable gluttonous behaviors
4:35: Change for gym, get books ready for class
5:00: Saunter out of my apartment building to be greeted by the typical smells of car exhaust, grilled meat and burnt rubber.
5:30-10:30: Gym, shower, class
10:30: Take bus home. Feel oddly protected by the prostitutes I pass on my two block walk home from the bus stop.
10:45: Make dinner with my roommate Domi.
11:00: While eating, catch up on the Brazilian soap opera "Salve Jorge"
11:30: Check what I have missed on Facebook. Nothing
11:30-1:30:Spend next two hours doing god knows what
1:30: Write in journal.
1:45: Drift off to the eerie sounds of the dark streets below.
***Side note: Okay so yes this was my typical day. But I did do some minor things on the side, the best being my excursion to the Museu da Lingua Portuguesa (Portuguese Language Museum). Yes, one of few museums in the whole world dedicated solely to the origin and development of a language. It is incredible how many words in Portuguese come from Indigenous tribes such as the Tupi that were here before Brazil was colonized. And then how many words have African roots due to the immense Brazilian slave trade that lasted almost 3 centuries. Also, did you know that Portuguese is spoken on every continent? That Portuguese Navy sure was busy. And that the word Saudade in Portuguese is classified as one of the most difficult words to translate into other languages especially English. Now I bet you want to know what it means. Well go Google it. Because if I just gave you one word that kind of alludes to its meaning, well that would defeat the purpose of me telling you that it is one of the most difficult words to translate.
Another great thing about the museum is that it really appeals to the student budget since it only costs a mere $1.50. Great. Also, I think that museums are a good thing to do by yourself. Normally I like to have a companion when I go out to explore, but museums are different. You can go at your own pace. You don't have to worry if you are taking to long. Or the opposite, you don't have to awkwardly stand and wait while the other person reads every last word, including the exit signs. Anyways, I felt like a very good exchange student doing this mini trip and also really learned a lot. I think it will be fun to go back two or three more times as my Portuguese gets increasingly better so I can get even more out of the museum.
Okay, now moving on to my new daily routine!
Internship:
5:50: First alarm goes off. Snooze
6:00: Second alarm goes off: Snooze
6:10: Third alarm goes off: Snooze
6:12: Wake up panicked from a deep sleep: "CRAP, what time is it. Did I oversleep?"
6:13: Turn on water for coffee (yes, English Breakfast just doesn't do the trick at 6:15 in the morning). Get out fruit and yogurt for morning breakfast.
6:15: Sit down for breakfast while reading up on the daily news. Pictures of dogs from parents have not been sent yet.
6:20: Contemplate if wearing my pink flowery shirt on the first day of work is too El Woods from Legally Blond.
6:21: Decide to go with navy blue skirt and white blouse to be on the safe side. (Don't worry pink shirt was worn the next day. #ElWoodsismygirl)
6:25-7: Get ready for work, organize materials for class, put together gym bag-don't forget socks
7:00: Select snacks to bring to work: banana granola bar, figs, apple, really yummy mini cake with chocolate filling.
7:15: Leave apartment to make the 7:35 bus to the office.
7:35-7:55: Crowded, sweaty bus ride with grumpy Paulistans.
7:55-7:58: Make a pit stop in McDonald's next to my office to take a bath in their sink after sweating through my clothes. Thanks for the free paper towels.
8:00: Begin my day.
9:00: Brazilian Market opens. The next four hours pass without even looking at the clock.
1:30: Lunch time. Lunch time in the office is really quite an experience. One where soggy tuna sandwiches brought from home in a Tupperware are unheard of, and pieces of steak hanging over the plate with rice, beans and french fries are the norm. Its hard to go out to lunch because when the market is open its go time. There is no lunch break. Especially because you are not dealing with just the Brazilian Market. You have London and NYC too which are on different time zones. Not to worry though, because around 11:30 a very nice guy (whose name I am forgetting but will fill in) comes around with the equivalent of an Oxford Dictionary full of different menus that include every food group/category from every region in the world. I could probably spend a good three hours going through the whole thing. Where do you even start when there is salmon with a maracujá sauce; filet mignon; slowly roasted chicken over a coal five; seared tuna; nioki in a garlic cream sauce; thin crust pizza with prosciutto, arugula and slivers of parmesan cheese; every salad you could imagine salad; veal; risotto; a whole Brazilian Churrasco; sushi; cheese plates; duck. Its like okay, first day of work you are trying to get a grip on how the market operates, all the different systems, bonds, currencies, interest rates, central banks, the phones don't stop ringing, some random bell keeps going off, the office is a mixture of Portuguese, Spanish, English. Your head is about to explode. And then you are supposed to choose between salmon, filet mignon and a wild mushroom risotto for lunch? I mean this really almost put me over the top. I'm thinking, yeah i'll have one of every thing, a tasting menu if you will. Do interns get to do that? No? Crap. After what seemed like the most difficult decision of my life, I went with the salmon in a maracujá sauce over a bed of mixed greens with tomatoes, artichoke hearts, sauteed zucchini, some unbelievable cheese and avocado for my first lunch as an Intern at Deutsche Bank. It was delicious. But my relationship with the these meals is very touch and go. As soon as I'm finished I am ready to try the next best thing. Think of any college male, like that, but with food.
2:30: Lunch time winds down and the office picks back up. Phones, bells, chats, emails, speakers, videos. And me? Well I am a deer in the headlights. My brain is a sponge that is quickly begining to get heavier and heavier. Swaps, spots, outrights, forwards, options. Oh sorry, is that jiberish?
3:15: The afternoon sun streams through the gigantic glass windows. I feel like I am in the sky as I sit and gaze out at the view of the concrete jungle from our fourteenth floor office. A helicopter comes and lands on top of the building across the street. Woah. Thats when you know you are really high up.
3:17: Coffee. It is important for the bank not to have all their employees take a nap on their keyboards after eating such a ginormous lunch. How do they hedge this risk? (new bank lingo). Well, how would you like a delicious café com leite in an adorable pocka dotted cup with just the push of a button? Or an espresso from the fancy Nespresso machine that George Clooney uses? I don't consider myself an avid coffee drinker. I really do prefer tea in terms of a stimulant. However, the coffee from these machines is really something remarkable. And having such fun little cups to drink it out of makes it all the better.
3:30-5:30: In general, the office in the afternoon slows down. The London Market is closed at this point, the market in NYC has calmed down, everyone gets to take a deep breath. I like this period because I can ask a lot of questions and clarify things that have gone on during the day.
5:30: Run out of the office to get the bus to school.
5:35-6:25: Another hot, not as sweaty bus ride, with grumpy Paulistans to the FAAP (my university).
7-10:30: Class, gym, shower
10:30: Take bus home. Again, feel oddly protected by prostitutes on the street. With two or three on every corner, no one pays attention to me as I scurry by in the shadows behind them.
10:45: Make dinner with Domi.
11:00: While eating, look at daily pictures my parents have sent of our dogs.
11:10: Check out what I have missed on Facebook. Nothing.
11:20: Barely keeping my eyes open, change into my PJs and brush my teeth.
11:30: Dead to the world.
So as you can you can see everyone, things have really picked up down here in São Paulo! And I will have you know, that I absolutely love my internship. I like to think of my college studies as a puzzle and this internship is the last piece: The first piece is International Economics that then attaches to Spanish. My Caribbean and Latin American studies minor slides in below. My Portuguese is the next piece. Then comes my study abroad experience here in São Paulo with my different classes in finance/international relations. And then to bring it all together into one big melting pot is my internship. That is how perfect it is. I am speaking English, Portuguese and Spanish. Our region is the Caribbean and Latin America so all day I am researching and reading up about everything that is going on regarding the economy and politics. But then the coolest part is that I get to see how these political and economic factors/changes affect the market. And it is right there in front of me! I watch it happen. It is seriously so cool. Sometimes I get goosebumps. Am I a total nerd? Furthermore, the team I work with could not be more supportive and patient in terms of getting me on board, explaining concepts I dont understand, including me in conference calls/emails. Finance is not rocket science. It just takes your brain and twists it in ways your brain has never been twisted before. I think if I were to have a cat scan right now my brain would look like a towel being wrung out to dry. You know that motion of squeezing and scrunching?
My brilliant Mother, before my first day of work, told me not to think of it all as some big scary beast that is impossible to conquer, but rather to compare it to working in a restaurant. You arrive on your first day barely knowing anything. You recognize you're dealing with food but you don't know how all the different ingredients mix together to make bacon carbonara, seafood scampi or tomato bruschetta. It is all very fast paced because people are hungry and don't want to wait around. There is so much to learn and at some points you doubt your ability to master it all. But then you make a little breakthrough that leads to another baby step. Someone asks you a question and you know the answer. Soon enough everything is clicking. You can explain the differences between the bacon carbonara and seafood scampi without thinking twice. People are coming to you for help. And before you know it, you have grasped every last detail about the restaurant.
Yes, these wise words from my Moma really helped get my mentality properly situated as I walked through the big glass door that first Monday morning. And now, two weeks later, I am still in the making-baby-steps stage. Little tiny ones. But things are sinking in. Instead of learning pasta dishes, its learning to differentiate between a spot trade and a swap. Yes, okay a bit less appetizing but hey, at least I get to gnaw on a big piece of steak as the figures and stats settle in. It is all very surreal but I am happy and feel like I am finally beginning to fit into this Paulistan metropolis as I bustle through the streets in my work clothes and Brazilian leather flats.
P.S. If you want to see the street view of my office building go ahead and copy the address into
https://maps.google.com/
Deutsche Bank - Av. Brg. Faria Lima, 3900 - São Paulo, Brazil
Oh and yes there is a helicopter pad on top of the building. And yes my goal is to land on it.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Professional Clothes
I was actually dreading going shopping for professional clothes. And it is VERY unlike me to dread any kind of retail excursion. But to be honest its a bit scary having to go and pick out your first appropriate outfits for your first real job without your Mom there to comment on how short the skirts are and how see-through that blouse is. What is even more terrifying is that Target (or Targee as my Dad calls it) has yet to come to Brazil. So with no Mom and no Target, well, where exactly are you supposed to start?
My roommate, Domi, gave me a few stores to go and check out. I went, and quickly became very discouraged. Besides everything being extremely overpriced, nothing fit. And can I just say that black and tan are not flattering colors on me. Are they on anyone? Plus they are so frumpy. I understand its work clothes but that doesn't mean all fashion sense has to be disregarded.
Making my way back up Avenida Paulista after leaving the last suggested department store, I passed a little shopping mall tucked under a big office building. Upon entering, I saw a lovely navy blue knee-length skirt with pretty buttons in a store's display window. Okay that is more like it. I walk in to the tiny shop to be greeted by two delightful Brazilian ladies. After telling them my dilemma about needing professional clothes, they immediately whipped into action. Within minutes, we were on a first name basis as they brought me through the racks of skirts, dresses, blazers, shirts, pants, etc. But the best part was yet to come. As I began trying stuff on, again things were not fitting as I had hoped. Not a problem! Little did I know, this was no ordinary clothing store but actually a seamstress! Everything in the shop was stitched and sewed right there! Not a "Made in China" tag in sight. So, when the clothes did not fit right, they could altered. This dramatically changed the whole shopping experience. I felt like Cinderella and these two Brazilian seamstresses, were my fairy godmothers. The only thing missing were little blue birds tying my hair up with silk ribbons as Marcela and Fernanda pinned and fixed each skirt, dress and shirt. And what a relief, not only were these women brilliant with their sewing abilities, their fashion sense was remarkable. The tiny shop was lined with bright pastels and flower patterns, royal blues and vibrant purples. Furthermore, the clothes actually complemented your figure. I am what you would call curvy, and yeah I don't want to go to work everyday looking like a washed up whale. Marcela and Fernanda did not want that either which is why they spent the whole next hour with me to ensure that every article fit just right. As I left the store with a bag in each hand, feeling pampered and important, I felt like I was saying goodbye to new life long friends. But it will not be goodbye for long. Marcela and Fernanda are going to call me in a few weeks when the new Fall fashions are in :)
Now I really can't imagine going back to Target where the clothes are a hit or miss and the dressing room ladies stare at you blankly when asked their opinion on how something fits. It is all very impersonal. And that is why I am truly beginning to love São Paulo. Here I am in one of the largest metropolises of the world, but even so, I am able to find such comfort and kindness amongst the nooks and crannies of the city's streets. Even though I still wish my Mom could have been here, my Brazilian fairy godmothers filled in just fine.
Here are some pictures of my purchases!
My roommate, Domi, gave me a few stores to go and check out. I went, and quickly became very discouraged. Besides everything being extremely overpriced, nothing fit. And can I just say that black and tan are not flattering colors on me. Are they on anyone? Plus they are so frumpy. I understand its work clothes but that doesn't mean all fashion sense has to be disregarded.
Making my way back up Avenida Paulista after leaving the last suggested department store, I passed a little shopping mall tucked under a big office building. Upon entering, I saw a lovely navy blue knee-length skirt with pretty buttons in a store's display window. Okay that is more like it. I walk in to the tiny shop to be greeted by two delightful Brazilian ladies. After telling them my dilemma about needing professional clothes, they immediately whipped into action. Within minutes, we were on a first name basis as they brought me through the racks of skirts, dresses, blazers, shirts, pants, etc. But the best part was yet to come. As I began trying stuff on, again things were not fitting as I had hoped. Not a problem! Little did I know, this was no ordinary clothing store but actually a seamstress! Everything in the shop was stitched and sewed right there! Not a "Made in China" tag in sight. So, when the clothes did not fit right, they could altered. This dramatically changed the whole shopping experience. I felt like Cinderella and these two Brazilian seamstresses, were my fairy godmothers. The only thing missing were little blue birds tying my hair up with silk ribbons as Marcela and Fernanda pinned and fixed each skirt, dress and shirt. And what a relief, not only were these women brilliant with their sewing abilities, their fashion sense was remarkable. The tiny shop was lined with bright pastels and flower patterns, royal blues and vibrant purples. Furthermore, the clothes actually complemented your figure. I am what you would call curvy, and yeah I don't want to go to work everyday looking like a washed up whale. Marcela and Fernanda did not want that either which is why they spent the whole next hour with me to ensure that every article fit just right. As I left the store with a bag in each hand, feeling pampered and important, I felt like I was saying goodbye to new life long friends. But it will not be goodbye for long. Marcela and Fernanda are going to call me in a few weeks when the new Fall fashions are in :)
Now I really can't imagine going back to Target where the clothes are a hit or miss and the dressing room ladies stare at you blankly when asked their opinion on how something fits. It is all very impersonal. And that is why I am truly beginning to love São Paulo. Here I am in one of the largest metropolises of the world, but even so, I am able to find such comfort and kindness amongst the nooks and crannies of the city's streets. Even though I still wish my Mom could have been here, my Brazilian fairy godmothers filled in just fine.
Here are some pictures of my purchases!
Outfit one. Please note flowered cuffs and neckline. Brilliance.
I really like these buttons because they remind me of seashells on Chappy
Outfit two: More flowered cuffs.
Outfit three. Yes, Mom, you can borrow it when I get home.
Some more shirts to be mixed and matched. They are a really nice light fabric!
And I am on my way to be dressed for success for my internship! Thanks for reading everyone. And a shout out to my wonderful Dad. Its his birthday today! I love you! Everyone send him an email if you get the chance. Hes turning 29!
Monday, February 25, 2013
Getting situated
Its been six weeks now since I have been in Brazil. Hard to believe! Time really does just keep moving faster and faster. And although I do sit here and miss home and SLU I have to remind myself that this chunk of time is something very special and truly unique. Once I get back to the U.S. I have one more year of being in my all-expenses-paid-resort, also known as college (thanks Mom and Dad), and then BAM its the real world. I'm not saying that I will stop traveling but doing another exchange like this? Who knows.
One of my favorite things about Brazil are the weekly farmers markets. Every neighborhood has its farmers market where everyone goes to buy fruits, vegetables, meat, fish, spices, etc. Its great because all the food is super fresh and VERY cheap. Our farmers market happens every Thursday and this week was my second time going to purchase our weeks supply of fruits and veggies. You can hear the commotion from the market as you approach starting from about two blocks away. Upon arriving, you are hit with a tidal wave of vendors wooing you with their very scrumptious products. Everyone wants to be your best friend at the market if it means you'll buy their lemons, or mangos, or papayas, or star fruit. It is hard not to get lured in, especially when you are new to how the whole system works. While standing in front of a massive row of grapes trying to decide which ones to buy, I am approached by a man holding a spectacular looking piece of neon orange mystery fruit. The conversation goes as follows (Please note the sweet talk is all part of the act. Also, when hearing sweet talk in Portuguese it makes your ears melt):
Fruit man: Hello my love, how can I help you?
Elley: Oh I'm just going to get some grapes, thank you.
Fruit man: You are so beautiful, here try a piece of this fruit. (before responding he cuts a generous sliver of the mystery and hands it to me. I try it and my knees just about give out with how delicious it is)
Elley: Wow thats so good. What is it?
Fruit Man: You have beautiful eyes. Here now sample this apricot. (he watches my eyes light up as my palate just about explodes with exquisite sensory overload. He knows I am hooked). My beauty, you must try this strawberry. Do you have a Brazilian boyfriend? Let me take you out dancing. But first my love, try these cherries. Oh, how your eyes light up in the sun. Are they real? Eat a piece of papaya, my queen. You said you needed grapes?
Ever bite he offers is more succulent than the last. Before I know it I am standing their holding more bags than my arms can carry, of fruit that I don't even know the name of nor even know existed, as the the Fruit man continues to offer me more samples of his proudest produce, while showering me with his skillful Brazilian banter.
Making my way up the street I approach a scene that you would most likely see on a travel food network. You know one of those television programs that makes you want to drop everything you are doing to go and try what ever is being featured on that days show. Today's special: something so classic here in Brazil: A Pastel stand. A red pop up tent covers a massive eating frenzy as people yell out their orders and hoover down the Brazilian specialty. The smell lures me into join the chaos as I squeeze myself into the group lining the counter waiting, and eating. Its mid day and this is clearly where people come for their lunch break. I look over at the bubbling oil in the massive steal frying pan as the pastels sizzle and pop. The smell is a mixture of garlic, sauteed onions, seafood, sugar, fried dough, minced meat and sweat. The list of overwhelming choices hangs overhead: shrimp, chicken, beef, beef and cheese, chicken and cheese, shrimp with some weird thing thing I can't pronounce, random parts of a cow all mixed together, that again but with cheese, nutella, nutella and banana. Going to the market is really a excellent vocabulary review. Disregarding the fact that I had just eaten I decide I want to purchase this delicacy for a mear 3 reals (about a $1.50). Side note: part of being a foodie is not eating when hungry but eating when ever you encounter something enticing. If this happens to be every 25 minutes, so be it.
Unsure of which one to chose, I look around me to see what the locals are inhaling. I keep hearing the lady behind the counter yell out "camarão, camarão." Okay this means shrimp. That seems like the most popular. I'll get a shrimp one then. But then the guy next to me bites into his steaming pastel breaking the crunchy dough to expose a medley of minced meat, cheese, onions, tomatoes and garlic. My tummy rumbles. It knows. After a quick inner battle I decide that the best thing to do is to get two pastels in order to really take advantage of this experience. When in Rome, right? "Mosa, mosa" I call out to get the lady's attention. Within minutes I am standing there holding my two fresh pastels wrapped in wax paper to keep in the heat. Following what I see around me, I tear back the paper to bite into the perfection. The crisp dough crunches and the savory shrimp is well, heavenly. The freshness is overwhelming but also the flavor is just indescribable with its mixture of different spices. Its one of those flavors that with every new bite, you discover a different taste. It also seemed to get exceedingly more mouth-watering as I ate it. Despite its impressive size, I finish my shrimp pastel in a matter of two minutes. Actually probably less. Without waiting for my stomach to tell my brain that it was now full, I bite into my second meat and cheese pastel. I first noticed the surprising taste of sun-dried tomatoes within the hodgepodge of wonderfulness. It caught me off guard, but was totally brilliant. The bittersweet, chewiness was the perfect accompaniment to the other salty ingredients.
The whole pastel extravaganza lasted about 7 minutes. There is no lingering once you are finished. You eat and then you move, before someone else, moves you. To quench my thirst I turn around to yet another magnificent scene: pudgy Brazilian women blending and mixing any fresh juice you want. I order my usual Maracujá juice assuming that I know what is coming. I watch as she takes the fresh juice out of the fridge and pours a splash into my glass. She then reaches for another pitcher of a suspicious mixture to fill the rest of the cup. Handing me the concoction, I smile to pretend I know what I have just purchased. Putting my lips on the rim of the cup, I take my first sip of the mystery beverage. Let me tell you people, I think at this point I actually had an out of body experience. I don't know if it was the combination of the Fruit Man, the pastels and then this juice but I could barley stay upright. This mystical potion was pure mother nature. Something that they would serve to you upon arriving in a biblical paradise. Aphrodite's beverage of choice, for sure. Its almost as if every sip rejuvenates your body. Where on earth did it come from? I make out some of the tastes: fresh coconut water, a hint of ginger, Maracujá. But there is something else. Something so magnificently sweet, but not from sugar. I thought about turning around to ask the woman what was in this enchanting drink, but I decided I would keep it a mystery.
I walk down the opposite side of the market in a gastronomic daze, barley able to pry my lips from the straw. The bags of fruits and vegetables no longer feel heavy and the blazing sun no longer feels hot. I feel satisfied and accomplished after such a triumphant and tasty market adventure.
I don't have the best pictures but I did manage to get a few. Most importantly here are some of the pastels. The red is the reflection from the roof of the tent.
Something I realized while living in Barcelona and then have come to realize more being here in São Paulo is that you really have to fend for yourself out there. People are not going to hold your hand and guide you along. It's fine. I'm okay with it. It just takes some readjusting. I am happy to be getting little tastes of this reality during my four years at SLU so that it doesn't all take me by surprise after I graduate (eek). Its like this Fall, my parents got a feel for what it will be like to be empty nesters. My sister Jane and I went off to college and our youngest sister, Adelaide, studied abroad in Argentina for six months. Mom and Dad were left at home alone and surprisingly did not move into separate bedrooms. Our dogs, Dwight and Riley, became the new centers of attention and I was impressed with how well my parents managed. In fact, Mom and Dad had such a surplus of attention to give with their three princesses gone, that when Dwight ate a dead deer behind our house and got very sick, Mom hand fed him chicken noodle soup. She saved little Dwighty Boy's life along with her marriage since for those of you who don't know my dad, spending $2,000 to bring a pet to the vet is what he would call a NDE (Near Divorce Experience). So needless to say, I think they will do well once Adelaide moves out for good, just as I will conquer what ever I decide to pursue after I graduate.
Now that Carnaval is over, the real new year begins in Brazil. School starts, work picks back up and people's daily routines are underway. My intensive Portuguese class has ended and my regular university classes in the FAAP have begun! This semester I will be taking four classes all in Portuguese that include: International Finance, International Economics, The Brazilian Financial Market and The Formation of Latin America's Economy. This is a relatively light course load compared to other Brazilian students who normally take 8-10 classes per semester. But my advisor here suggested that with my internship (starting either this week or next), four classes will be plenty, and after my first week, I completely agree.
So what are my first impressions of these classes? 1. Extremely interesting and 2. Very well taught. I have one male professor and three female professors which I think will be great. I have yet to have a female economics professor. I would also like to comment on how well prepared I feel for these courses from my studies at SLU in economics, history, politics and well just about everything else. During my first week, it was a relief to not only follow the whole lecture in Portuguese but to also be able to comment and answer questions using previous knowledge that I learned in my semesters back at SLU. So if you are one of my SLU professors reading this, give yourself a pat on the back from me! Class size is small which is great: about 15-20 students. Kids participate and seem generally interested. All class notes are posted on an academic site for all of us to refer to afterwards which will be super helpful for me when needing to fill in what ever gaps I may have missed. So we are off to a great start folks! Side note: come mid semester with mid terms and papers, I may take all of this back.
Other than classes what else have I been up too? Well, on Monday I attended my first cervejada. What is this you ask? Oh, its just a University sponsored kegger for all new and returning students. Talk about incentives! Go to class or a kegger? Hmm. The still-developing, college student brain chooses kegger! They didn't even charge an entrance fee. All you had to do was bring a bag of powered milk that then would be donated to charity. Brilliance. And the beer selection? Budweiser! Here is a picture from the party of us exchange students. Needless to say, the afternoon/night was a success! Yes Adelaide, those are your shorts, and your shoes, and your bag. Thanks.
Other than classes what else have I been up too? Well, on Monday I attended my first cervejada. What is this you ask? Oh, its just a University sponsored kegger for all new and returning students. Talk about incentives! Go to class or a kegger? Hmm. The still-developing, college student brain chooses kegger! They didn't even charge an entrance fee. All you had to do was bring a bag of powered milk that then would be donated to charity. Brilliance. And the beer selection? Budweiser! Here is a picture from the party of us exchange students. Needless to say, the afternoon/night was a success! Yes Adelaide, those are your shorts, and your shoes, and your bag. Thanks.
One of my favorite things about Brazil are the weekly farmers markets. Every neighborhood has its farmers market where everyone goes to buy fruits, vegetables, meat, fish, spices, etc. Its great because all the food is super fresh and VERY cheap. Our farmers market happens every Thursday and this week was my second time going to purchase our weeks supply of fruits and veggies. You can hear the commotion from the market as you approach starting from about two blocks away. Upon arriving, you are hit with a tidal wave of vendors wooing you with their very scrumptious products. Everyone wants to be your best friend at the market if it means you'll buy their lemons, or mangos, or papayas, or star fruit. It is hard not to get lured in, especially when you are new to how the whole system works. While standing in front of a massive row of grapes trying to decide which ones to buy, I am approached by a man holding a spectacular looking piece of neon orange mystery fruit. The conversation goes as follows (Please note the sweet talk is all part of the act. Also, when hearing sweet talk in Portuguese it makes your ears melt):
Fruit man: Hello my love, how can I help you?
Elley: Oh I'm just going to get some grapes, thank you.
Fruit man: You are so beautiful, here try a piece of this fruit. (before responding he cuts a generous sliver of the mystery and hands it to me. I try it and my knees just about give out with how delicious it is)
Elley: Wow thats so good. What is it?
Fruit Man: You have beautiful eyes. Here now sample this apricot. (he watches my eyes light up as my palate just about explodes with exquisite sensory overload. He knows I am hooked). My beauty, you must try this strawberry. Do you have a Brazilian boyfriend? Let me take you out dancing. But first my love, try these cherries. Oh, how your eyes light up in the sun. Are they real? Eat a piece of papaya, my queen. You said you needed grapes?
Ever bite he offers is more succulent than the last. Before I know it I am standing their holding more bags than my arms can carry, of fruit that I don't even know the name of nor even know existed, as the the Fruit man continues to offer me more samples of his proudest produce, while showering me with his skillful Brazilian banter.
Making my way up the street I approach a scene that you would most likely see on a travel food network. You know one of those television programs that makes you want to drop everything you are doing to go and try what ever is being featured on that days show. Today's special: something so classic here in Brazil: A Pastel stand. A red pop up tent covers a massive eating frenzy as people yell out their orders and hoover down the Brazilian specialty. The smell lures me into join the chaos as I squeeze myself into the group lining the counter waiting, and eating. Its mid day and this is clearly where people come for their lunch break. I look over at the bubbling oil in the massive steal frying pan as the pastels sizzle and pop. The smell is a mixture of garlic, sauteed onions, seafood, sugar, fried dough, minced meat and sweat. The list of overwhelming choices hangs overhead: shrimp, chicken, beef, beef and cheese, chicken and cheese, shrimp with some weird thing thing I can't pronounce, random parts of a cow all mixed together, that again but with cheese, nutella, nutella and banana. Going to the market is really a excellent vocabulary review. Disregarding the fact that I had just eaten I decide I want to purchase this delicacy for a mear 3 reals (about a $1.50). Side note: part of being a foodie is not eating when hungry but eating when ever you encounter something enticing. If this happens to be every 25 minutes, so be it.
Unsure of which one to chose, I look around me to see what the locals are inhaling. I keep hearing the lady behind the counter yell out "camarão, camarão." Okay this means shrimp. That seems like the most popular. I'll get a shrimp one then. But then the guy next to me bites into his steaming pastel breaking the crunchy dough to expose a medley of minced meat, cheese, onions, tomatoes and garlic. My tummy rumbles. It knows. After a quick inner battle I decide that the best thing to do is to get two pastels in order to really take advantage of this experience. When in Rome, right? "Mosa, mosa" I call out to get the lady's attention. Within minutes I am standing there holding my two fresh pastels wrapped in wax paper to keep in the heat. Following what I see around me, I tear back the paper to bite into the perfection. The crisp dough crunches and the savory shrimp is well, heavenly. The freshness is overwhelming but also the flavor is just indescribable with its mixture of different spices. Its one of those flavors that with every new bite, you discover a different taste. It also seemed to get exceedingly more mouth-watering as I ate it. Despite its impressive size, I finish my shrimp pastel in a matter of two minutes. Actually probably less. Without waiting for my stomach to tell my brain that it was now full, I bite into my second meat and cheese pastel. I first noticed the surprising taste of sun-dried tomatoes within the hodgepodge of wonderfulness. It caught me off guard, but was totally brilliant. The bittersweet, chewiness was the perfect accompaniment to the other salty ingredients.
The whole pastel extravaganza lasted about 7 minutes. There is no lingering once you are finished. You eat and then you move, before someone else, moves you. To quench my thirst I turn around to yet another magnificent scene: pudgy Brazilian women blending and mixing any fresh juice you want. I order my usual Maracujá juice assuming that I know what is coming. I watch as she takes the fresh juice out of the fridge and pours a splash into my glass. She then reaches for another pitcher of a suspicious mixture to fill the rest of the cup. Handing me the concoction, I smile to pretend I know what I have just purchased. Putting my lips on the rim of the cup, I take my first sip of the mystery beverage. Let me tell you people, I think at this point I actually had an out of body experience. I don't know if it was the combination of the Fruit Man, the pastels and then this juice but I could barley stay upright. This mystical potion was pure mother nature. Something that they would serve to you upon arriving in a biblical paradise. Aphrodite's beverage of choice, for sure. Its almost as if every sip rejuvenates your body. Where on earth did it come from? I make out some of the tastes: fresh coconut water, a hint of ginger, Maracujá. But there is something else. Something so magnificently sweet, but not from sugar. I thought about turning around to ask the woman what was in this enchanting drink, but I decided I would keep it a mystery.
I don't have the best pictures but I did manage to get a few. Most importantly here are some of the pastels. The red is the reflection from the roof of the tent.
Here you can see the steel frying pan that is used to cook the pastels.
Some of the flavors.
I tried to capture the eating frenzy. This picture does not really do it justice.
Alface
Uvas
Manga e abacate
Temperos e ervas
Bananas
You didn't think I was going to leave without telling you what the mystery fruit was did you? After typing"neon orange fruit that looks like a tomato" into Google it has been determined that this is a Persimmon. A very common fruit here in Brazil. I eat one now every day for breakfast amongst my fruit medley of papaya and banana all mixed together in yummy Greek yogurt.
Some of my purchases at the market! All exquisite.
Thanks for reading everyone! More coming soon!
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Photos from Rio de Janeiro
Oi Pessoal!
As promised I am posting some photos from my Rio trip to give you all a little imagery of the experience. I tried to find some good youtube videos of the Sambódromo parade that I went to but actually had a difficult time. So I am posting the link to their website that has great photos from the parades that you can look at.
http://www.rio-carnival.net/photos/rio_carnival_photos.php
If anyone has any good videos that they find on the parade feel free to leave them in a comment at the end of the blog!
If anyone has any good videos that they find on the parade feel free to leave them in a comment at the end of the blog!
Taking the train up to the Christ Redeemer statue. Being good exchange students, we woke up at 6:30 in the morning to make it to the staue by 8:00 when it opened. We were the first ones to see the spectacular view as the sun rose over the city.
Here is the statue from the back. It is 99 feet tall! I took this walking up the stairs from where the train let us off.
Is that Jesus in the background?
Here is a picture of the infamous, breathtaking view of Rio de Janeiro. As you can see the sun is just getting settled.
Here we are infront of the statue. From the left Abel (Mexican American), Elsa (Mexican), Martin (Argentine), Me and Rodolfo (Mexican).
Looking out over Copacabana Beach
And over to Ipanema Beach
Here we are at the Sambódromo parade. Caipirinhas in hand!
Late night on Copacabana Beach
Picture taken from Apartment window
Here are some pictures of the Blocos. In the background you can see the truck that is actually a big beer can float with a Samba band playing on top of it.
With my friend Inaê who I went to Rio with and her friends at a Bloco.
All of us in our Gypsy costumes at a Bloco! This was a really fun day!
First Day of Blocos. From the left Inaê, Marcela, Me and Amanda
Picture of the bloco from the apartment. This does not really do it justice
Here in the background you can see the beer stands I talked about in my blog post. They are literally everywhere.
Following the big beer can with little beer cans in hand!
Copacabana beach!
Ipanema Beach!
That warm, delicious Brazilian H2O
Picture of a favela taken from the street down below.
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