My time here has come to an end (in 12 hours to be specific). It is funny how quickly 3 months goes by. Had you asked me about a month and a half ago whether I’d be ready to leave or not, and I would have said definitely. Now, I’m still excited to get home, see my family, see my friends, and pick up my life where I left it in September, but I am now going to miss this place and the Brazilian friends I’ve made. This is the second time in my life where I’ve lived abroad for a period of 3 months or longer (2002 I lived in Prague for 4 months) and in both I had a similar acclimation experience. Moving to a foreign land where they speak a foreign language is not easy. Meeting people is difficult, getting by is difficult. However at a certain point things begin to click. I am now able to order food and actually know what I’m going to receive (this was the big turning point for me here). I have multiple groups of friends to call now and go out with. But most importantly, I am finally used to the relaxed Rio lifestyle.

I started this blog for myself so that I’d return to the US with recorded memories. I hope you have enjoyed reading about our adventures and misadventures as well. It has been fun thinking of how to transcribe some of the extraordinarily strange things I’ve seen and been a part of over the past three months (ie. seeing a kid with a gun alongside the freeway on the way to school, hearing a machine gun battle at 6:30am on a weekday, seeing someone jump from a moving bus because it is obviously inefficient for the bus to come to a complete stop rather than just slow down).

I want to leave you with the exact transcription of two text messages I received earlier during my stay. As much as I wish I could make something up of this quality, I can’t. It is 100% authentic. This is also why my English skills have likely deteriorated. I apologize.

“Party in the Cais do Oriente, you is Jufe guest, we go with all jufriends! Eleven hours of the night, ok?” - Natalia 11/15 2:45pm

“We go in my car. We search you in its house the eleven hours of the night. I call you.” - Natalia 11/15 6:53pm

With this, the Gringo in Rio is signing off. Tchau amigos.

Fact: I love food. I love pretty much all food. I may choose certain foods over others (such as chicken breast over chicken hearts, which I have eaten here in Brazil), but I will eat nearly anything. That being said, I have very little to complain about with the food I’ve eaten in Brazil. Typical Brazilian food consists of a lot of rice, black beans, farofa (toasted manioc flour, which is better than it sounds), and plenty of meats. You might think that only eating these things would get pretty tiresome, and I would agree with you; however there are plenty of other things that are also available, yet not considered staples, such as sushi, hearts of palm (quite tasty and all over the place), empanadas, and random other salads. Should you desire diversity, it is possible to find it…to a certain extent.

One thing that is a bit disappointing, and one reason I am excited to get back to Los Angeles, is the lack of “ethnic” foods available here. As mentioned above, sushi and Japanese in general is very prevalent. Yet even so, their sushi choices focus solely around tuna, salmon, white fish, and shrimp. Yellowtail? I think not. Eel? What is that? You get the point. The quality of the fish that is available is fantastic, but choices are limited compared with (the use of compared to and compared with is tricky and I have no idea if I am right in my usage here) what I’m used to. Other than Japanese, there aren’t many ethnic food choices. I have not had or seen Indian food, any other type of Asian foods, or many European offerings (other than pizza).

I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been thinking about what I am going to eat when I get back to LA. The winner, of course, is Mexican food! If you don’t like Mexican food, I am going to ask you very nicely to stop reading the blog and close your browser now. I really don’t know how people can live without 100 Mexican food options nearby. Maybe this is the main reason I’ve lived my entire life around Southern California. Just a theory. Anyway, last night I decided to head to the one Mexican food restaurant that I know of in Rio called Guapo Loco. I went in with low expectations, but my curiosity was rather high. As is the case in the US, I had a lot of difficulty choosing what to order. I ended up choosing the chimichanga, which ended up being a mistake. It looked like a chimichanga, yet there was no meat inside. It was stuffed with various vegetables including mini broccoli, mushrooms, and carrots. Blasphemy. Also, ironically, it was not served with rice or beans, as everything else in this country is, and which Mexican food should be. I went to this place with a Brazilian friend who ordered a quesadilla, perhaps my all-time favorite Mexican food choice. Additionally, this is one of the easiest things to make. 1 tortilla. Cheese. Meat if you choose. That is it. They used the wrong cheese! The cheese used was catupiry, which wikipedia describes as a “popular type of ‘cream cheese’ used in Brazil.” It’s fine on other things, but not in a quesadilla.

Even with this setback, I’m still quite excited for my first good Mexican meal in over 3 months. Tacos Por Favor anyone? Rubios? Wahoo’s? El Cholo?

Rio de Janeiro is a city like none other that I’ve ever been to. Everywhere you look you see juxtaposition. Low lying beaches are situated right next to steep and jagged mountains. The wealthy live adjacent to the extremely poor. Many people gorge themselves on copious amounts of food, while people outside of these restaurants are begging for cents. It is an extreme city, that unless you make an effort to learn about and witness, can easily be missed.

We have been hearing about “favela tours” since we first arrived. Even though we’ve heard they’re fantastic and so forth, there is a strange sense of exploitation that I felt accompanied these tours. However, we decided to go ahead and go on a tour of the Rocinha favela mainly due to the fact that the tour company claims to donate 60% of the price of the tour back into favela infrastructure (day care centers, schools, homes, etc.). I’m not a naïve fool and am skeptical that all this money actually goes to these beneficial causes, but if even half of this money makes a difference for some people then I think the decision to go on the tour was a sound one.

Favelas define Rio de Janeiro. There are over 750 current favelas and they are home to over 20% of the entire population of Rio. Over 4 million people live in favelas. For those of you that are unfamiliar with the term, a favela is a slum or shanty town. All of the favelas in Rio are run by drug lords. They have a variety of origins, however are mainly characterized by people squatting on open patches of land and just building. Rocinha, for example, is the largest favela in the world, housing over 300,000 people. Of those people only 10,000 are directly involved in the drug trade, with only 4,000 being “soldiers.” Despite the fact that only 3.3% of the population is actively involved in drugs (the import and sale, rarely the use…due to cost), everyone is affected. Because Rocinha is so large, it is actually run by two different drug lords, one for the lower part of the favela, another for the upper part. These current guys are only 22 and 23 years old. The average life expectancy of a drug lord is 20-25 years old. They have never left the favela and should they leave now they will either be arrested or killed.

The major problem with this favela as well as the others, is that the favelas are usually geographically contained between mountains, forest, beach, or other natural landmarks. Rocinha is no different. There is no room for expansion, yet the population in a few years is expected to surpass 500,000 people. The average family has 7 to 8 kids and begins when these “boys and girls” begin having children at 12, 13 years old. This type of growth will lead to some extraordinary revolution…sooner rather than later. My guess is that either there will be some sort of epidemic that will wipe out a large percentage of the favela population or there will be a revolution involving an uprising of these people in Rio. The landscape of this city is bound to change and it is only a matter of seeing how and if there is anything that someone can do to help.

Getting to the top of Rocinha may have been the most dangerous things I’ve ever done in my life (recall my sky diving, bungee jumping, hang gliding, and rock climbing ways). There is one main road in the entire favela. We each jumped on the back of a motorcycle for the scariest ride of my life. My driver had a helmet, which I knew was not a good sign. Did he have a helmet for me? Of course not. I was very relieved once we reached the top of the road. Oh and since I’m still alive (and have an un-cracked skull), I say it was one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done.

Feet are the means of transportation within the favela. Alleys are barely wide enough to let two people pass each other at the same time. Trash is everywhere. A mix of water and urine run down these narrow streets. My best decision of the day was to wear actual shoes instead of flip flops. Combined with the trash and graffiti were mangy dogs, wild (and dirty) roosters, and countless numbers of children. As mentioned before, the average age of people in the favelas is extremely young. I’d guesstimate that over 50% of the people that we saw were under the age of 8. This is very sad in one sense because it is evident to us what life they have ahead of them. Our guide told us that their dreams were to become a footballer (soccer player), drug lord, or famous actor. Realistically though, by age 10, the boys will have to decide whether or not to join the drug cartel as a dealer or soldier. Yet at the same time, these were the only people that we saw that exhibited optimism and hope. You could see it in their eyes when they asked us to take their pictures. Our guide told us they love having pictures taken because they think that they will end up on TV, become famous, and get out of the favela. It is depressing, but I continued to take pictures because it makes them happy and might spread knowledge of the plight of the favelas.

A couple weeks ago the Brazilian President, Lulu, made his first trip into a Rio favela. I’m not sure of the details, but he’s beginning a new program aimed to help these people. Having been inside the favela, I’m not really sure what can be done, yet the fact that at least there is some effort keeps optimism alive. People around the world need to know more about what is going on in Rio. If you haven’t seen City of God or the soon to be released (Jan. 25, 2008 according to imdb.com) Tropa de Elite (Elite Squad) you need to. They are very graphic, and according to all the Brazilians we’ve talked with, unfortunately very accurate.

I’d been looking forward to this weekend (my weekends here begin around noon on Wednesdays and wrap up on Sunday evenings) for quite some time now. Brian Dugan and Damon Austin finished up their schooling in Argentina earlier this week and finally made their way to Brazil for some good times here in Rio. While Rio is an amazing city to visit, with clubs, beaches, tourist sights, etc., we also ran the risk of over hyping everything and ending up disappointed. That did not happen.

They arrived without a hitch (rare seeing that this is Brazil) on Wednesday afternoon and were immediately curious/impressed/shocked by the number of favelas (slums) we drove by on the way from the airport to my place in Ipanema. (Stay tuned for much more about the favelas in the next posting.) We wanted to show them as much as possible from as many different areas of town and began with a quick trip to Lapa. Lapa is one barrio in Rio, but is extremely unique. It is known for its live music, particularly samba and forra (a type of music from the northeast that originally came from some British settlers and was called “for all”). Places in Lapa, as well as the people that hang out there, are much less focused on outward appearance, than those in areas like Ipanema or Leblon. They are there to dance and really enjoy the music. Thus the random awful smells, overheated clubs, sweaty girls (and guys) all add up to a fantastic time. Oh and there you can find yourself a cheap chopp (draft beer) or caipirinha!

Thursday we managed to spend some time on the beach, even though the weather was looking rather ominous. The humidity was rising (my guesstimate would put it around 95%) as was the heat (around 40ºC or 104ºF). Still, the beach was the beach. What can I say? It is always a lovely experience (that’s right…lovely!). At night, we indoctrinated Dugan and Damon in the ways of excessive Rio eating. We headed to Porcão and had the biggest meal of our lives (excuse the hyperbole). This is supposedly the best churrascaria rodízio (all-you-can-eat Brazilian BBQ) in all of Rio (to which I agree). It was amazing and left us all in a major food coma, which of course was a perfect beginning to a night of dancing and drinking. We rocked out at the 30^th birthday party of a Brazilian girl-friend of ours at a local club in Lagoa. The highlight of the night was seeing Damon shake his “popozão” (a Brazilian booty, not in reference to K-Fed’s terrible song) to funky music as if he was a Carioca gata (girl from Rio).

Friday it rained. A lot. To be honest, I don’t really remember much about what we did during the day. I think it involved a lot of relaxing and doing nothing. I think. Friday night we finally found the Holy Grail. Josh and I have been trying for over two months to make it to Nuth (again, pronounced New-tch) in an area called Barra da Tijuca (the newest “hip” area of Rio about 25 minutes from Ipanema), but for one reason or another never made it there. I’m glad we finally did. This place was awesome. The club space alone made it worth while. There was an outdoor area accented with palm trees and other foliage, with plenty of “exclusive” seating locations. The inside perimeter was lined with tables as well, with a pretty large dance floor in the middle. Upstairs was dotted with pool tables and was more of a lounge area. The only negative about this place was its abundance of “pitboys.” These guys are known throughout Rio, and not for good reason. Essentially they are jiu-jitsu trained fighters that travel in packs and try to pick fights with anyone that looks at them cross-eyed or who accidentally talks to one of their girls. We were all cool, even though we had our own meathead (Damon).

By Saturday we were beginning to run low on energy…and money. Even so, that didn’t stop us from jumping off a cliff (with wings of course). I’ve been sky diving, bungee jumping, and now I can add hang gliding to that list. Unlike the other two, it was not extreme. Well, it is a little extreme since you do run off a platform on a mountaintop, but the ride itself is quite peaceful and amazing. In a city like Rio, with so many different types of topography, seeing it all from high above is fantastic. I believe we launched at around 1700’ and the ride lasted approximately 10 minutes. Of the four of us, only Josh, who has a major fear of heights, was apprehensive. However he conquered it and loved it. He also said he is never doing it again!

The last thing we did with Brian and Damon here in Rio was a favela tour of the Rocinha favela. They then embarked on their 18-hour bus ride south to Florianopolis.

We had hoped to do a ton of things during their visit to give them a great impression of and great experience in Rio. According to them we succeeded. The 5-day weekend was long, expensive, and awesome. Many of the things Josh and I have been waiting and wanting to do, we finally actually did! With only 1 weekend to go, I’m glad I was able to cross off many of the “must do’s” in Rio.

Outside of the United States (and maybe now the UK too), people still smoke…a lot. People smoke on the street. People smoke in bars. People smoke everywhere, including at school. I’m not talking about people walking outside for a smoke break. People are allowed to smoke inside. I’m not a huge fan of this. Americans may be arrogant in many ways. We may think that we are “better” than others. This is up for debate, however what is a fact is that our clothes smell less of smoke than those of non-Americans.

As my faithful audience, I would like to ask you a question. Have you even been in a situation where you have regular “smoke” breaks at school? Most of you are probably laughing right now at that thought. I have a professor (for two classes actually) that really likes to smoke. She must smoke at least 2 or 3 times during a 4 hour class (the class length is another story).

Today was AMAZING. In her classes, the professor really does not teach. Each of the readings are presented by a student, which (you can’t tell from reading this) is BORING. Between presentation 2 and 3 (the third being Josh’s), the professor said she needed to step out of the class to “take her medicine.” She instructed Josh to begin without her. I’m not making this up. She grabbed her pack of Kent cigarettes and stepped out of the room. I literally laughed out loud (probably not a diplomatic thing to do) at the thought of what was happening. Even the Brazilian students in the class thought this was strange. I’ve seen a lot in Brazil so far, but this is right up there at the top…potentially taking the cake.

The lesson here kids is to “take your medicine” during pre-scheduled breaks, not in the middle of class. It is quite shocking to the gringos in attendance.

Once upon a time in the land of Brasileiros, there were two Americans stranded searching for a peru (aka turkey). They searched the land far and wide, even going as far as to call upon godmothers, gay landlords, and other native peoples, for the elusive Thanksgiving spread, but in the end came up short. There was not going to be any turkey, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, gravy, yams, pumpkin pie, and the saddest of all, no stuffing. The world did not stop on this day. There was no talk about sales or “black Friday.” Families did not gather and there was no thanks given. All in all, Thanksgiving in Brazil was no different than any any other Quinta-feira (Thursday).

So instead of partaking in the well ingrained traditions of overeating and watching highly overrated football games (American that is), these two brave souls ventured from Rio looking for the perfect wave. (Oops somehow this turned into Endless Summer.) They drove to the remote beach called Prainha where the scenery was amazing (natural and otherwise). Many surfed, others just enjoyed the sun and the atmosphere. Laughs were had and a daily high score of 37 was accomplished playing the ever fun and always challenging frescobol (don’t worry we’re bringing it back for all you other gringos).

After a tasty, but yet unfulfilling meal of salads and bruschetta (all lacking the elusive bird of the day), our two protagonists headed out for a night on the town. With foolish intentions of rendezvousing with a group of recently made traveling American friends to somewhat remind them that somewhere in the world people were celebrating Thanksgiving, they headed to a club in downtown Rio called Nuth (pronounced New-tch). Arriving far to early at the hour of 9:15pm and unsure of whether to enter this house of debauchery, yet with no other legitimate options, they acquiesced and entered. Teased from outside with the sweet sounds of hip hop, they were crushed to find that the hip hop music was just a teaser and that tonight they would be subjected to random less than acceptable Brazilian music.

The American “friends” did not show, which left our two gringos on an island. However they were able to build a bridge after downing the sweet nectar of a few caipirovskas. Before long they were toasting champagne and eating birthday cake with random strangers. Their fortunes really shifted when the music switched to Brazilian Funky. Having seen girls dance to this music before, it was not a complete shock, but they were more than pleased to experience this again.

So they were unable to enjoy the traditions of Thanksgiving, however these two had plenty to be thankful for on this day and for this entire experience. The beach, the people, the city, the life!

Whenever you move to a foreign land it takes a while before you can hit your stride and begin to really enjoy the place. The language is often a barrier, especially for those that speak as much of it as I do Portuguese, and you don’t know people to take you to the best places. With just over 1 month to go here in Rio, I think we finally found the key that will enable us to push this city to its limits (or our bodily limits for that matter).

I honestly came to Rio expecting our school situation to be similar to that of Anderson. After the first few weeks I was still reserving judgment figuring things would step up and we’d be “slammed” sooner or later. Now that we are about to begin Week 6, I can proclaim that we are not here for the academic education, but rather from the social and cultural education learned from meeting new people, going to random restaurants, and yes of course partying hard. I point all this out because now I am enabled to tackle the “important” aspects of my stay with 100% dedication (and a dwindling bank account).

Our weekend started out very strong. We only have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, so each weekend actually begins for us at the conclusion of our last class (12:15pm on Wednesday). This weekend had even more promise since Thursday was a holiday (apparently only in Rio, but I’ll still take it). Though not affecting us, it allowed all the working folk in the city to put down their calculators, shut down their computers, and stop reading legal documents (these are all things working people use right?) and head out on the town. Through my landlord’s niece (Juliana, you’ll see a nice trend with her friends in a second) we met up with a group of her friends at an area called Baixo Gávea. This is a small area with a variety of bars, but what is fun about it is the loitering that takes place outside the bars on the street. There are street vendors selling cervejas (beers) as well as other drinks and food snacks. Being that it is Brazil and NO ONE knows what they are going to do until about 3 minutes before it happens (quite frustrating to a punctual, prepared American), this is a great place for friends to gather and then go out. So here we met up with Juliana’s friends: Natalia, Juliana (aka JuPi), Juliana (aka Juliana), JuCi (short for something, probably Juliana), the original Juliana (aka JuFe) and Bruno (a 35 year old dude that liked to party and used to live in Los Gatos, CA. Yes, random). Oh and 4 of the 5 girls are lawyers.

From Baixo Gávea, I convinced the girls to join us and we headed to a club nearby called 00 (Zero Zero) where they were playing “Black Music.” (Side note: most foreign countries that I’ve been to are either much more racist and/or unaware that terms like “black music” should not be used. I do not think this instance was done with harmful intentions, but still it is rather awkward to come across for most Americans.) We continued to drink, dance, and have a merry time…er, good time. We returned home around 5am and it seems like Josh and I now have a cool group of Brazilians to party with, which should make the next 33 days a blast.

Night 2 began, despite pouring rain, at a bar in Ipanema called Devassa. Devassa is also a brewery and must be run by a guy with an MBA looking to capitalize on both the production and point-of-sale business. (I apologize for trying to look at this from a business perspective. As I said the classes here are failing me.) Josh and I again met up with the same crew from the night before. Anyway, with big plans of heading to a party in downtown (aka Centro), but due to the inconvenience that is rain, we headed to a club next door to Devassa called Club 69. The place was packed and had a great vibe, but I can still hear the pounding of electronic music in my head (it is now Sunday as I write this)! More partying, dancing, drinking, etc. took place and again a return home around 5am.

By Friday morning I wasn’t sure what day it was and couldn’t believe it when I finally realized we were only halfway through an epic weekend. With such high potential for two more great nights, things obviously didn’t pan out as planned. Friday night Josh and I went and grabbed drinks and some food with the daughter of one of his mom’s friends and her friend (Tatiana and Priscila). Other than going to a super trendy restaurant, nothing crazy happened and I was back at my place by 1am (a very early night here). Figuring that our first group of friends would be recharged by Saturday night and ready to take it to the town we were amped to cap off the weekend in style. We headed to the best sushi place in Rio (called Sushi Leblon) for a fantastic dinner, but apparently the girls were too worn out from Wednesday and Thursday night partying that they all called it a night after dinner.

So overall I’d say this weekend was a major success, though it started much stronger than it finished (to roaring cheers from my body). Next week is Thanksgiving, which I may or may not forget about completely due to the lack of thanks that will be given here in Rio (by others not me). Two weeks after that Dugan and Damon show up and we now have people to make sure they aren’t bored. Two weeks after that I am headed back to Los Angeles…just as I’m hitting my stride. Such is life.

(Note from Gringo: Part 2 of 2 from Buenos Aires)

As exciting as lightning and cemeteries are, I’m sure you all are much more interested in hearing about the strange intricacies of Buenos Aires as well as hear more about the nightlife (as I too am much more interested in writing about it).

Buenos Aires fashion seems to be about 15 years behind the rest of the civilized world. What I am about to write is the truth and has not been exaggerated for the purpose of increased interest in this blog (I act like I have a mob of dedicated readers or something). The “mullet” and “rat tail” are very much alive and well in Argentina. If you are a fan of one or both of these amazing self expressions-through-style you must make a pilgrimage to Buenos Aires. I have seen everything from your traditional normal hair style paired with a normal rat tail (is there such thing as a normal rat tail?) to the random side tail (maybe called a “sail” from here on out) to the even more bizarre hippie dread rat tail. I’d say that maybe 25% of the population has some form of random growth on their head (okay I may be slightly exaggerating, but they were literally everywhere). Random additions witnessed that helped round out this look were eyebrow and lip piercings (both men and women), random “beauty mark” piercings (typically on women), shaved in lines on the side of the head (mainly men), and the mohawk + tail (could be both). As I hit these keys to attempt to paint this picture for you, I’m still in shock at something I was not ready for and that I haven’t seen in the US for at least 10 years.

Moving now to the party scene, I have to say we did things right on Friday night. The four of us ventured to Boca, which is supposed to be a dangerous area (please, we live in Rio) to watch a Boca Juniors (adults, not kids) professional basketball game. This was a game featuring the top team (Boca) in the top level professional league of a country that won the last Olympics in basketball. How many people do you think ventured to the game? I’m no rainman, but my humble estimation was between 300-400. Hell, even if the place was packed, it might only hold 1500 max. Regardless, the game was actually pretty exciting and ended with Boca Juniors losing to the last place team (whose only two wins have come against 1st place Boca) in overtime.

From there we headed back to their apartment for a few drinks before heading out. It was only 11pm by the time the game was over meaning the night was in its infancy still. Around 12:30am we headed to a nearby bar called Carnal to meet up with a few people from Brian and Damon’s program (including Ryan Owen and Gil de Jesus from Anderson). It was nice to see some familiar faces and hang out for a bit. Seeing as we were seeking the perfect night, we only stayed there for an hour or so before heading to The Mint (which turned out to be a superclub). Entering Mint around 2:00am (after paying a HUGE cover of 60 pesos or $20…this is cheap Argentina remember?), we were there right as it began to hit its stride. The place was huge. The main area was being filled with hard pounding electronic music (not exactly my cup of tea). Everyone was having a blast and getting comfortable. There was a much smaller side room that was playing a lot of American hip-hop and seemed more like a club in Los Angeles. The outside area may have been one of the best features of this club. After dancing, sweating, and losing your hearing inside, being able to head out to what looked like what I imagine Patagonia to look like was very refreshing. The weather was crisp and it was a great area to recharge.

We ended up rolling back to the apartment at 6:00am when the sun had already lit the sky. This is my second 6am return in South America, but I am going to go out on a very sturdy limb and proclaim this night my best nightlife experience in South America to date. Everything worked out better than we could have hoped and we managed to fit a lot of different experiences into one long night.

Having our friends with us, while acting as tour guides, was perfect. The trip to Buenos Aires was great and Josh and I look forward to reciprocating when they show up in Rio in early December. A sneak peak of what their visit may include: hang gliding, favela funk party, and lots of beach!

(Note from Gringo: Part 1 of 2 from Buenos Aires)

It has been over a month since Josh and I took our last trip outside of Rio (my field trip to Petropolis surely does not count). We flew out of the Rio International Airport on Wednesday to visit (Brian) Dugan and Damon (Austin) at their pad in Buenos Aires. The flight was pretty memorable itself. As we began to descend into Buenos Aires, we flew through a massive lighting storm. Being that I’m from Southern California (and that we rarely see lightning), every time I see lighting I get pretty excited and turn into a 10 year old boy eagerly waiting to see the next bolt touch down. The view from the airplane was incredible. The storm surrounded the entire city. Every 3-7 seconds the sky would light up and many times I was able to see the lightning bolts as well. Basically picture one of those open shutter photographs of a sky completely filled with lightning bolts. That’s what I was in the middle of it and it was fantastic. Also the pilots of our Aerolineas Argentinas flight performed the smoothest landing I have had in years. Pretty ironic considering the conditions.

Brian and Damon’s place is pretty awesome. Saying that it has “character” sums it up perfectly. It is a loft that Damon apparently has designed (using the owner’s credit card fortunately) to his liking. And like the true Argentinians that they have become, there is a large wine rack housing empty bottles of wine that have been placed in the rack based on their desirability. Oh and they each only pay $350/month. They obviously knew where to go to be able to really live it up. (The only drawback is they have zero privacy in the place, however for 3 months it is a steal.)

While Damon and Dugan were in class on Thursday, Josh and I decided to just walk around town and get a feel for Buenos Aires. They pointed us towards the direction of Soho and Hollywood (pretty original names). We hung out and had a great (and very cheap) lunch in Soho at a pizza joint. After that we checked out a few stores and passed by numerous coffee shops (this is very interesting information huh?). There were your typical yuppie stores like Lacoste and the Nike ‘Soho’ stores. As its name suggests, Soho is a trendy part of town. Buenos Aires in general though is a very, very different city from Rio. It reminds me of an Eastern European city (in both good and bad ways). I may even donate a power washer to the city to begin the graffiti (it is literally everywhere and on every building) and grime cleanup. Regardless of this imperfection, the vibe here is fantastic.

We are tourists so of course we had to do something touristy the first day. We headed to the Cemetario de la Recoleta, famous for being the burial place of Evita (the real one, not Madonna). The place was really cool. Each of the tombs were individually design and decorated mini-buildings. Of course we decided to see who could take the creepiest photo. We are very mature adults. I think the consensus was that Damon won. (see following…)

In addition to the cemetery we checked out a few of the interesting parts of town on our trip. In San Telmo, an older section of Buenos Aires, Josh and I had an amazing meal consisting of a slice of grilled provolone (really fantastic, try it sometime), fresh chorizo sausage, a heart of palm salad (very big in South America) and a huge plate of asada cut across the ribs rather than with the ribs as we’re used to.

In this glorious city of Rio, there is an interesting social norm in play. Once the sun sets, drivers proceed to disregard red lights. You must realize how confused (and slightly scared) we were the first time we were in a cab and he continued to just bust through red lights.  The thing is it isn’t just cabs either. Normal people in their normal (likely-non bullet proof) cars do the same thing.  Do you want to know the reason? Apparently carjackings/robberies were occurring while people waited at red lights.  I’m not making this up. So now it is just understood (by all including the esteemed Rio police) that you do not wait at red lights once it is dark. This is a great plan only if there are not two cars approaching the same intersection at the same time.  Cars do slow down to see if there is anyone flying down the perpendicular street, but even still I must think that this is a cause for plenty of accidents around town. Ah well, such is another strange custom in this strange place.

Thinking about cars and driving, I figure I’ll let you know about another strange roadway custom in Rio.  Drunk driving. That’s right. No I have not been drunk driving and I don’t think I’ve been with anyone that has been drunk while driving (taxi’s are the safe way to go!).  I’m serious, too, that the majority of people here just accept that drunk driving is a part of the process and if you need to get from Point A to Bar B and back to Point A, you are going to be doing it drunk. This is definitely a bit worrisome for someone coming from the US with all our anti-drunk driving propaganda (the use of this word does not indicate my disagreement with it).

Here’s to fingers crossed, knocking on wood, rubbing a rabbits foot, or whatever your good luck charm of choice is, to surviving the nighttime driving scene.