Public Shaming and the Pooh Lane

It's been 4 nights that the kid has woken me because of a persistent cough, and as a result,  a tinge of fatigue is skewing my attitude today. Here is today's rant; I'm tired of always looking down on the sidewalk to make sure the kid or I don't step in dog crap. There's nothing fun about using a leaf to scrape a lump of shit off the wheel of the stroller. I don't know if it's because of the high density of pets in our area or just plain laziness, but it's bad. Every day the path from our place to the beach is slick with fresh pee and shit bombs and after weeks without rain, I can hardly breath it's so rank. We've even nicknamed the path "the pooh lane".

The canal avenue behind our place seems like a pleasant place to walk, there's a wide sidewalk, shade trees and a view of the water. Unfortunately, it's completely unusable; there is way too much dog crap. I guess dog owners walk their dogs there because there is no beach traffic and there's no one around to see that they are irresponsible and lazy.

Today, I was pushing the kid in the stroller on the main beach avenue and right in front of me a woman watched her little dog take a dump right in the middle of the sidewalk and kept going. There were other people looking at her and the dog, but no one said anything. I was so shocked! She even had a baggie attached to her leash. I called after her, pointing to the crap and said: "Por favor!" She kept walking as I yelled louder at her. She turned around impatiently and said :" Ta, vou pegar!" (fine, I'll pick it up). At last, a little social shaming at work!

I can't tell you how many Brazilians blame each other's bad behavior by saying: "Oh, it's lack of education." How much education do you need to pick up dog crap? A Masters' degree? I call bullshit or in this case dog shit. It has nothing to do about about where you live or how much education you have, it's about respecting your community. And sometimes it's okay to REMIND your community to respect you. So, I'm sorry I embarrassed you lady with the little dog, but you know what to do next time.

Hopefully I get some sleep tonight.... :)

On another pet related note, a funny thing happened the other day while we were walking along the beach. In the wild grasses along the sand we saw a little brown animal about the size of a squirrel scurry away down the sandy path. My husband said: "Oh, look! How cute! A baby capivara!" "Capivara? I said in disbelief (The capivaras I've seen here are the size of sheep) Do they live by the beach? I asked. Upon closer inspection, I laughed when I realized it was just a guinea pig. I guess someone took little guinea to "farm/beach".

 

The thing is that my husband wasn't so wrong. Apparently, the capivara is the largest rodent in the world, followed by the beaver and the porcupine AND they are totally related to guinea pigs!

 

 

Taking Part in the "Festa Junina"

I pulled out my sewing machine the other day when my sister-in-law, Jaqueline, came to visit. We started to prepare the kid for his "Festa Junina" school dance and presentation and this of course requires a costume to be made. Wouldn't want the Canadian kid to stick out without a proper outfit, so I set off to learn more about this holiday.

The "Festa Junina" (June Festival) is celebrated across Brazil, but takes its roots in the Northeast of the country. Introduced by the Portuguese in colonial times, these celebrations honor the Catholic saints;  St-Peter, St-Anthony and St-John the Baptist during the month of June. Given that St-John is the saint of marital union, and to celebrate rural life in that arid region of Brazil, people dress up as farmers, dance a type of square dance around a fake bride and groom, build a bonfire and listen to "forro", a kind of country music from that region.  It's hard to wrap my head around it given that my only knowledge of festivities honoring St-John is la St-Jean Baptiste in Quebec, which involves a lot of drinking, fireworks, and outdoor concerts. So it's a kind of St-Jean Baptiste mixed in with Thanksgiving with a country themed Halloween party. Ah, ah, ah!

Here is Luiz Gonzaga's Asa Branca. He is the king of "forro".(Notice his traditional Northeast costume in the video.)

I worked on the kid's farmer's costume, ran to several different malls, and got all the bits and pieces. I'm pretty proud of myself for successfully putting all this together. Last Saturday night, we walked over to the condominium complex next to ours where they had set up a Festa Junina. We arrived around 5 as they were setting up and we tried to stay as late as possible given that the boy was nearly falling asleep at the table and refused to wear his hat. We fished some fish in a bucket, won some play-doh, shared a beer, and saw the band arrive. Geraldo reminisced about his childhood and fooling around with his friends and the kid and I got a taste of this June tradition. Apparently, the party was hopping 'til the wee hours of the morning, but we were all tucked up in bed by then. The celebrations will continue at school this week, and I'm not sure if I can get the boy back in his costume... but maybe when he sees his friends also dressed in their farmer's getup, he'll throw his hat on with a HEEHAW!

Brazilians Use the Power of Masses

I'm sure that you've heard about the protests here in Sao Paulo, Rio and in other cities of Brazil, which has lots of people talking. Here are points made by bloggers and people I've talked to these days.

1. Increasing transportation fares ignited the protests, but of course this issue is accompanied with other issues, blowing the budgets for the World Cup and the Olympics by several billion dollars, corruption etc...

2. The hike in fare is only by 20 centavos which brings up the total fare to about $1.50 US, so what's the big deal? Well, compared to other countries, it means that the average Brazilian has to work 12-13 minutes to afford a ride home while a Canadian only has to work 5.84 minutes.

3. It's very hard to see how fare hike in the past have been put back into improving transportation systems and what about taxing drivers instead of those using public transportation?

5. And what about the other issues? Here's one young woman's perspective.

6.  The outrage surrounding the fare hike, the World Cup and the Olympics has shown the Brazilian government that Brazilians can take a lot of "sh*t", watch the game and complain, but at some point, when enough of that "sh*t" hits the fan they can take to the street and make themselves heard.

I support the protests (despite some radicals destroying public property). It seems that the only way to be heard in Brazil is to use the power of human mass. (Somehow I just get the feeling that writing a letter to your local MP just doesn't work here.)

Some have complained that the same people who are protesting now, were the same people who were partying on the beach on the day Rio won the bids. That may be true, but since then, it's clear that those in charge have screwed up. It will be interesting to see what will come of this. This morning the fare hike was reversed... I'm not surprised that the government chose to address this over the less manageable issues of corruption, violence and police repression....

A Little Jorge Ben Jor for Today's Rainy Day in Rio

Today's post starts with a song sung by Jorge Ben Jor. Don't tell me you don't wish you were driving along a  highway with this on loud on your way to a great lake or vineyard. Okay maybe it's just me. Or sitting on the deck of a boat on a sunny long weekend.

Here's "Mas Que Nada", his most famous 1963 hit single. Try not to sing along.

Here is the same song again in 2012. Still cool. Still makes you sing along!

Okay, last one.

My Tutor, Claudia, Asked Me to Write About Poor People Who Need Help...

 Um dia, eu perguntei a minha mãe como que ela escolheu os tópicos para seus discursos de “Toastmasters.” Ela explicou que em primeiro lugar e importe falar sobre que você jà conheçe. Então e por isso que eu não posso escrever sobre os pobres que vivem no Canadá ou no Brasil e também de outras pessoas que precisam de ajuda porque eu não posso fingir que sei algumas coisas da vidas delas. Então, o que eu sei?

Há dois anos, eu começei a ler sobre a “simplicidade da vida” e executar essa maneira de viver na minha vida. Eu percebi que a maioria das pessoas e estressada o tempo todo no trabalho, na casa, com as responsibilidades da vida, e também durante as férias. As midias e a sociedade dizem que tudo deve estar perfeito e que a única maneira de ser feliz é comprar as coisas e ganhar mais dinheiro, mas nós sabemos, no fundo de nossos corações que essa corrida é uma locoura. No momento que uma pessoa toma a decisão de sempre escolher o que é mais simples, a paz aparece e desacelera o ritmo estressante da vida. E isso, ajuda tudo o mundo!

Como fazer? Você pergunta. É simple! Claro!

Em primeiro lugar, identifique as coisas que são mais importante para você. Depois, elimine todas as outras coisas. Mas, você reclame, fiqua difíçil de identificar essas coisas!

Aqui estão algunas ideas que funcionam para mim:

Na minha casa:

Eu andei em todas os cômodos da minha casa e identificei todas as coisas que eu não amo ou não usei regularmente e dei-as para minhas amigas ou jogei no lixo; móveis, livros, pratos, roupas, quadros, papéis, utensílios de cozinha, brinquedos, objetos de decorações e etc. Eu fiz esta faxina durante muitos meses, e pouco a pouco, eu me senti libertada. Depois disso, toda vez que eu trago qualquer coisa para minha casa, eu me pergunto, se eu amo realmente esta coisa, o mais importante qual é o preço real? Todas as coisas que você permiti que entre na sua casa têm um preço. Um preço que na realidade ele é muito maior do que você realmente paga por ele na loja. Por exemplo, o preço de limpar e de se cuidar dessa coisa. Depois de um tempo, eu começei a me perguntar na loja antes de pagar, e muitas vezes eu decidi não comprar mais.

Eu li também sobre as pessoas que conseguem a viver só com 50 coisas pessoais. Eu não conseguo ser tão radical, mas fiquei surpresa com as montanhas de coisas que sairem da minha casa e da paz que ficou.

Com meu filho:

Eu li um livro que se chama “Simple Parenting”, significa como criar seus filhos de maneira simples. Esse livro reforça que é muito importante que a familia tenha todos os dias muito tempo para descancar é também ou para deixar as crianças decidem o que elas querem fazer. Hoje, todas as crianças tem muitos atividades organizadas porque os pais delas estão tão preocupadas em ganhar mais dinheiro para comprar em coisas novas que eles acham que é uma necessidade. Por isso, toda a família esta preocupada a ir para aqui e para là como as galinhas sem cabeças. Depois de ler esse livro, eu fiz algumas mudanças. Eu não me comparei aos outros pais, não me preocupei em registrar meu filho em qualquer aula e atividades para crianças, e também eu não me senti culpada quando outros pais compram montanhas de brinquedos novos.  O que é mais importante para mim é ficar com meu filho e fazer atividades simples, de usar nossa imaginação, de inventar brinquedos e de se divertir a fazer ativitades normais da vida como fazer as compras e limpar a casa.

Eu tentei simplificar outras partes da minha vida; a maneira que eu cozinho, viajo, planejo o trabalho, uso o computador, etc... Além disso, eu reduzi minhas expectativas e as atividades global de meu dia. Eu tento fazer tudo mais devagar, e aproveitar o momento atual. Muitas vezes, eu escolhe viver de uma maneira mais simples, mas eu não desisti, e agora, em geral, viver isso é automatico para mim.

Blue Sewing Projects for the Kid

Here are photos of sewing projects I've finished lately. Of course, finding fabrics and supplies is a task and a half here in Brazil, but the fabric is cheaper, so that makes this momma happy. For some reason fabrics are sold in one shop while thread, needles, buttons etc... are sold in another. I managed to find a mall that has both shops so I don't have to drive twice.

Here are a couple of blue whales. The tutorial is here.

I didn't think that a 3 year old boy would be into toy whales, but we had a ton of fun with them. We threw them at each other and played hide-and-go seek. I think the key was to make two.

Here's a shirt I finished off for the kid yesterday. I chose the buttons because they reminded me of wheels. I love the way it turned out, I almost want to make one for myself!

A Tune and Uninvited Guests

Don't get me wrong, I like music. But I have to admit I can't remember the last time I bought a cd or a song online. My Itunes hasn't been updated since 2010. I don't think about music very often unless it's annoying me, like when I'm trying to eat a meal in restaurant with the "The Gypsy Kings" blaring and on a loop. (It's easy to remember if you've heard Volare twice). That being said, I'm going to give a big effort to listen to Brazilian music while I'm here. I'm stealing recommendations from other bloggers, so while you are reading this post, listen to this!

Yesterday, we packed up a picnic and went off with some friends to explore a new park near our house. We found a nice picnic table under some trees near a playground and laid out our lunch. Score! No sooner had we taken a bite, we were surrounded. Surrounded by what, you ask? Wasps? Bees? Lizards? Children? Seagulls?

One dangled from a branch and threw himself onto our potato salad. Another jumped on the seat next to my friend and made a face to distract him from his Vegemite sandwich.  My husband grabbed a paper plate and shooed another away which hardly worked for more than a second. We put the lids back on everything and put our arms around our plates. You're still wondering what was attacking our lunch? Ants? Crows? Wrong.

Marmosets.

Or micos as they are called here in Brazil. Native to the Northeast of the country, they were introduced to the Rio de Janeiro region at the beginning of the twentieth century and flourished.  Now, it's the same old story as always, they were so cute, people started feeding them and they began pushing out the other native monkey species in the area. They are super active and agile and will steal anything that is not tied down. They have been known to climb through windows to grab lunch on the run. At our picnic, we have an audience of about 5 of them licking their chops and drooling on us from the branches above. Another fun, but unnerving Brazilian moment.

By now, you've finished listening to Tie, pronounced Tee-eh. Here's more if you want to hear more, and learn a wee bit more about her.

The Sick Captain and her Equally Sick Barnacle

It's just a matter of time when my 3 year old is hacking and showering me with specks of phlegm as he lovingly comes over to kiss me, that I start to show symptoms too. As long as there is no overlap in sickness, the family boat stays afloat, but as soon as there are days when two thirds of the family is sick, the boat slams into a reef and the kid starts to stick to me like a barnacle on a pirate's wooden leg. The provisions start to dwindle, but the beach seems too far away to replenish our food supply.

The whining intensifies, the coughs rolling in our throats like bags of nails mixed with nuts and bolts, and the one remaining healthy crew member stands on deck a bit at a loss, holding an empty toilet paper package. The captain, weighed down by his human barnacle flashes a desperate look at his crew hoping he will read her mind and find a way to get more toilet paper, so that she doesn't have to use her swollen, burning throat.

The whinny barnacle and the exhausted captain park themselves on the couch for long hours while the crew member goes off to work. The barnacle refuses to take a nap even though he is yawning constantly and the captain longs for the days when she could sleep alone in her bed. They watch so many cartoon episodes that the captain realizes they have looped back to the beginning and that they are watching the same cartoons as the day before.

The captain decides to take the barnacle for a walk on the reef for some fresh ocean air. The barnacle doesn't want to. The barnacle unlatches from the wooden leg and sticks to the reef, motionless and defiant while the captain debates which she can handle in this desperate moment; ditching the screaming barnacle and walking to the end of the reef, or carrying the kicking, coughing, crying barnacle in her arms so that she may have those two minutes of fresh air. Both options are equally bad.

The crew returns with a canoe, some medicine, and toilet paper. The captain is very happy to see his crew member and barely convinces the barnacle to stick to him for a while for a much needed shower.

Tomorrow will be a better day, the captain will paddle the canoe to the beach to get provisions, the barnacle will stick to the bow and let the ocean air tousle his hair. Together and with a little less whining, they will cook a nice meal to thank the crew member who maned the ship alone for a while. The barnacle will loosen up and go back to playing with his toys. The captain will regain her sanity, hoist the sails up and put the boat back to sea.

Connecting with a Letter to my Friend

It might be because I was born before the internet overtook the world, that I remember writing cursive with a pencil and getting a hard nub on my middle finger. (Which I still have.) I wonder if they still teach cursive writing in school? It seems that the only time we write by hand is to fill our forms or to sign our name on a document. If you're my age or older, you'll remember writing long letters to friends who were away at camp or sitting just behind you in class. You'll remember writing Christmas cards to your grandparents, handing in all your homework by hand, and writing poems for mom on Mother's day. I know each of my highschool friend's handwriting; who simply writes, who can't help drawing doodles to illustrate the point, who writes straight across the page, and who doesn't. I can't say that about anybody else after high-school except for my parents.

Sometimes I feel strange that I care so much about keeping handwritten letters alive, and I realize that I've already written about this before, but that's okay. When I think about it, I've always enjoyed writing letters, essays and stories, drawing cartoons of my friends and collecting stamps. I got hooked on stamps when my uncle gave me his collection. I joined a philately club in elementary school, and spent my pocket money on envelopes full of stamps from places I never knew existed. I don't collect anymore, but I still have my collection and every once in a while I look through my books, and enjoy looking at my elementary school handwriting on the labels that divide each section by country. Once, when I was living in Montreal, I found a collection in a pile of garbage on the side of the road, I took it to a shop and sold it for $300! So you see, stamp collecting is cool! It's been cool since 1840 when the Penny Black, the first stamp ever, was printed.

I have a special place where I keep the letters I've received over the years from my friends. I don't usually read them, but every once in a while, when I'm reorganizing my office, I take a look at a few. Most were written from far away or from another country; Scotland, France, Hawaii, Portugal, Japan, England, Toronto, Montreal.  Now it's my time to be far away, and I'm enjoying writing every morning with my cup of coffee. The letters capture my mood and who I miss the most in that moment. I imagine that person with me at the table, and I feel better. I miss them a tiny bit less. Here's a little tune called "World Map" by Thiago Pethit
- the first verse is " Write me a letter without "sender".

First Good Mail Arrives in Rio

My husband arrived last night, late and exhausted. He was holding the mail in his hand.

"We got some good mail!"
"Yipee, our first good mail in Rio! Let me see!"

It was from somewhere on our street, a neighbor, but no name was on the envelope. I put it aside, to "save it" for a more sacred moment. A few minutes later, my husband joined me on the couch and said with excitement in his voice, "Where is it? Open it!"

"I'm saving it."
"Saving it? What are you talking about? Open it! Okay, no wait! Let me take a shower first, then we'll open it together." He walked out of the living room with a hop.

We sat side by side, smiling. "It's from a neighbor, look at the address. "Who do you think it's from?", I asked as I ripped the letter open. Inside my friend and neighbor has written in every available space news from her life and our block.

For a moment, my husband and I were transported back to our stoop and hearing the claws of our downstairs neighbor's dog, Charlie, tearing up the glass door to say hi to us. We hear the familiar suction and swoosh sound of the door opening and a sweet smell of baking wafts out. "I made some scones!" She says as she hands me a plateful still warm from the oven. I'm off to my osteo-fit class and I've got my book club meeting later, but if you want to get some bulbs for the patio tomorrow, let's go together!" She says to us cheerily as goes out to the parkade.

I almost want to delay our bike ride to the Farmer's Market with the kid so that we can go back in and enjoy the scones. "Funny, how she's says she's a horrible baker, but every thing she makes melts in your mouth", I think to myself as I turn off the water from the outdoor hose. The kid's practically drowned all her plants playing with the hose, but she didn't notice. How lucky we are to have her. I could my husband was thinking the same thing.

We put the card on the kitchen table for the kid to see when he woke up, and we shared the news with him when he asked, "What's that, Mommy?"

"It's good mail, baby."

Thanks M-A!