Tchau!

As I said to Leo just before I passed through security, “Well, I guess this is it.” I’ve been home for four days, so I think it’s safe to say that my trip is over. I can scroll through the 2500+ pictures I took to help me relive things, but that won’t change the fact that I am back in New York, where the warmest it’s been since I arrived is 65˚F. Don’t get me wrong- I am happy to be home with my family and friends, sleeping in my own bed. I’ve had Taco Bell twice in four days, and drove my car for the first time since mid-September. Being on vacation was nice (major understatement) but it’s good to be home.

I started this blog as a way to justify being in Rio for seven weeks, but it turned into so much more than that. It changed how I saw everything- the city, the people, the customs, etc. I paid closer attention to details, trying to remember as much as possible, so I could write about it later. Leo and I took almost double the amount of pictures as last year, making sure we didn’t leave anything out. And I feel like I have a greater appreciation for the natural beauty of the city because I paid more attention to my surroundings.

The running theme of this blog has been my list of 50 things I wanted to do before I left. Well, I’m gone, so I guess it’s time to see how I did.

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So, 49 things out of 50, in some way or another, is pretty good. And there were plenty of off-list adventures, most of which were mentioned here as well.

As a way of wrapping things up, at the risk of sounding ridiculous, I have a few people to thank. At the top of the list is Leo, who served as both photographer and partner in crime for everything. He’s followed closely by his family, who gave me a place to stay and fed me. To thank everyone who was nice to me and helped me out while I was there would take days, so I’m saying a general “obrigado” to my friends in Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, with a special thank you to Lilian, for being such a faithful reader/commenter.  And thanks to everyone who read this blog- friend, family, or stranger. I appreciate the positive feedback, and the interest in my ramblings.

Keith Daniel Carioca may be done for now, but rest assured, if I ever get back to Rio, I’ll be writing about it.

Devassa!

One of my goals heading into my trip was to try different bars throughout the city, and figure out which one I liked the best. I have to say, it was extremely difficult going around, drinking beer, eating delicious food, and talking with friends in different places around Rio. I mean, it was always the same thing: sit on a bus or train for 40 minutes in any direction, meet up with people, have someone order me a chopp (it was just easier that way), eat some kind of pastel or meat dish, have another chopp, and talk. Sometimes I’d try to understand the Portuguese, but most of the time it was in English, so I could be included. At the end of the night, we’d make plans to meet again soon, catch a bus, and be home after a 40-minute ride.

Really, it was a chore.

But my “suffering” did bring me to one conclusion: my favorite bar and restaurant (that isn’t Porcão) in Rio is the Devassa in Laranjeiras. I liked the atmosphere, and I liked the food. That’s a winning combination in my book.

Devassa is more than just a bar; it’s a brand. There is Devassa beer (endorsed by Paris Hilton, no less), as well as the chain of restaurants. I’ve only been to the ones in Laranjeiras and Ipanema, but there are more spread out across the country. The brand’s theme is the ‘50s pin-up girl, which is why there are cartoon women drawn on the menus, and the beers are named after different hair colors (Loura, Negra, Ruiva, Sarará, and Índia). A pin-up girl on nearly every glass hammers the point home. Having a specific theme makes Devassa stand out more than the other bars I went to- in fact, it’s the only name I remember. All of the other ones, while nice, were identified more by location than by name.

Having a noteworthy dish helps jog my memory as well. On both of my trips to Devassa this year, I treated myself to a na moita, the Brazilian equivalent of Sheppard’s Pie. It’s got carne seca, ground yucca, and melted cheese, but was prepared differently based on the restaurant. At Laranjeiras, they served it with the different ingredients in layers, with the cheese and the yucca sandwiching the meat (see picture). At Ipanema, the meat and the yucca were prepared together, more like a stew, with a cheesy crust. Both were good, but the former was better.

And I know it’s a cervejaria that brews its own beer, but I feel it’s worth mentioning that they make a mean caipirinha as well. It was the perfect blend of sour and sweet, and generous with the cachaça. A word of caution: having it be the first thing you eat or drink on a Sunday may result in excessive arm waving and a lack of inside voice.

Rio Water Planet!

Last Friday, Leo and I traveled over two hours on different city buses to get to Rio Water Planet, a water park on the outskirts of the city. It was my first experience at a water park ever, and finally helped me shake the impression that all public pools are giant toilets.

The place was big, with plenty of shallow pools to step in and soothe your aching feet. You walk around barefoot, and the pavement is covered with rocks, so they get a bit sore by the end of the day. The best part about the pools is that they have hoses that shoot water into the air, and they are easily redirected. I may or may not have tried to spray Leo with water with varying levels of success.

The slides themselves were okay. I was unprepared for the repeated beatings  I took from shooting down the plastic slides at high speeds. Imagine that, banging into the sides of the tubes made me sore. At least it was fun.

I had a moment, right after we got to the park. We had just walked in, and I realized that I was in a water park somewhere in the mountains of Brazil in early November, listening to Chris Brown’s “This Christmas” on the loudspeaker. I seriously questioned the life choices that got me there.

But the trip to the water park was fun, despite the large crowds and drizzling rain. Foi divertido indeed.

Homecoming

It may have taken a little longer than I expected, but I finally made it home! I took the scenic route, but I got here, alive and (mostly) well. It’s funny- after my return trip from São Paulo, I expected smooth sailing on the way back to New York. Guess who was wrong?

My flight was scheduled to leave Rio de Janeiro at 10:55 p.m., so I arrived at the airport around 8:30 to check-in. I took a suspiciously expensive cab from where I was staying in Tijuca, and after a bit of a wait, was all checked in by 9:15. I hung out with Leo until 10, when we said our goodbyes and I breezed through security.

I should have known the plane would run on Brazilian time. My original boarding time was 10:10 p.m.; I didn’t get on the plane until 11, five minutes after we were supposed to take off. But we were in the air by 11:30, and I was making small talk with the guy next to me, a Brazilian-American coming back home from visiting family. He got friendlier as the combination of Jack Daniels and a sleeping pill began to work, until he fell asleep.

I tried my best to sleep for most of the flight, but it didn’t happen. At one point, I got up to grab my sweatshirt out of my carry-on, only to discover it was not there. I remember putting it inside my bag back at the apartment, but not since then.

To distract myself from wondering where it could be, I listened to music, played Tetris, and watched the first X-Men movie. I thought about watching the second one, but resisted, because I didn’t think I’d have enough time to finish it before we landed. And, guess who was wrong?

See, about 30 minutes before we were to land in New York, the pilot started to make an announcement. I assumed it would be that we were beginning our initial descent towards JFK. In reality, it was that JFK was closed due to foggy conditions, so our flight was being rerouted to Boston. Needless to say, my reaction was slightly profane.

We landed at Boston Logan Airport around 6:30 a.m. EST, pulled up to a gate, and sat there. For over an hour. I was lucky enough to put my unused insulin in one of the fridges on board, although that option was only presented to me after 12 hours on the plane. Either way, it was one less thing to worry about. I was more focused on my lack of sleep anyway.

About 30 minutes into X2, the pilot announced we would be flying back to New York immediately. Half hour after that, we took off. An hour later, we landed at JFK, and within 45 minutes, I was in my parents’ car, headed home.

Finally.

I apologize for my recent lack of posts. I’ve been having all sorts of trouble with the internet, including a night without it entirely. It’s working right now, but I’m not sure how long this will last, but I guess it doesn’t really matter…my flight leaves tonight! I just checked, it’s on schedule, so I will more than likely be flying home this evening! It’s a bittersweet moment, because I am obviously really unhappy about my trip being over so quickly, but I am very eager to get home and see my family and friends. And the promise of Taco Bell for dinner tomorrow is pretty damn exciting. I’ll post all of the things I had prepared for the past few days when I get back to New York, so you’ll just have to pretend it’s current. My next post will be from my house! Woo!

São Paulo List

As my trip comes to a close (for real this time), I’m taking a look back at my lists, both the original and the São Paulo version, to see how well I did. I used these lists as guidelines rather than schedules, just to make sure I didn’t forget anything important. I took part in plenty of off-list activities, and am leaving the country with very little left undone. It’s been tiring, but totally worth it.

I was in Sao Paulo for six days, and wrote a list of seven things I needed to do before I left. Some of them, like the karaoke, I knew would be inevitable, but there are others, like eating the Bauru, that I wasn’t sure about. Photo evidence was a must, or else no one would believe me. Well, here’s the proof, people. Take a look.

(Click on one of the photos below to enlarge.)

Between the pork buns, pizza, and the brigadeiro, I’d call this one a success.

Didn’t get the chance. Oh well.

Well, I didn’t sing, but I maintained my composure while other people sang, so that counts.

I want another one! Roast beef, cheese, pickles, and tomatoes on hollowed-out French bread. YES.

I braved brutal heat, long lines, and people making me their online entertainment, but it was worth it.

Into every life, a little culture must come. MASP may not have been the most exciting museum I’ve ever been to, but it was worth a visit.

This may not be a picture of the “now leaving ˜São Paulo” sign, but I saw it, and know it does exist. Here’s a look at the city’s OBSCENE rush hour traffic instead.

6 out of 7 is not bad. Not bad at all. It was a great few days in São Paulo. I’m glad I went.

The Best Laid Plans

As I type this, I am on hold with American Airlines, trying to fix my newly-changed flight itinerary, and have been doing so for the past 37 minutes. You see, as fabulous as it is to now have an extra few days in Rio because of the big (other) storm headed to New York, I really don’t want a connecting flight from Miami. I paid for a direct flight, so that’s what I will get.

Funny story though: when I first woke up, all upset because it was my “last” day here, I checked my flight status just to be sure. I’d heard rumors of a nor’easter that was to arrive in New York at the same time as me, so I wanted to be sure my flight would actually take off today. Sure enough, I logged in, and found that my itinerary had been changed to a flight leaving Rio tomorrow night, with a two-hour layover in Miami.

Unhappy with this, I decided to call the airline and change the reservation. I made it past the automated teller without any real aggravation, and was told my call would be transferred to the next available agent in 50 minutes. Oh, cool. It’s almost 90 degrees in Rio, let me spend my extra time inside on the phone with the airline. Great plan.

However, after only 29 minutes, my call was taken. The agent said her name, asked how she could help, and interrupted me as soon as she heard “Rio de Janeiro.” I was to put on hold again for 19 minutes as I was transferred to an international agent. REALLY?

UPDATE:

The upshot of it all is, my flight has been rebooked. For Sunday! A direct flight, the same as the one I was scheduled for tonight, only four days from now. Which means I’m basically playing with house money for the next few days. I was supposed to leave, but the universe told me I should stay. Who am I to argue?

“It’s Cheaper than a Hooker!”

Yesterday, Leo and I headed to Uruguaiana, an open marketplace that reminds me of New York’s Chinatown. In both areas you can find discounted stuff like cheap luggage and “Rollex” watches, and the store owners like to haggle. I can’t say that I’m a big fan of walking around Uruguaiana. The rows of stores are very cramped, so you can barely walk without knocking into something, and I find myself repeatedly checking my pockets to make sure my valuables are still in them.

With that being said, sometimes a trip to Uruguaiana is necessary, like when you want to buy a football jersey, but don’t want to spend R$250 to do it. Sorry, I don’t care how nice it may feel, it’s still just a shirt, and I refuse to spend that much money on a shirt. But at Uruguaiana, I don’t have to. I could (and did) find one very similar in color, pattern, and texture, for the low price of just R$40. Sure, it’s made of 100% Polyester and is a bit scratchy…but it looks nice! And was not USD$125!

But about the hooker referenced in the title.

After we bought the jerseys- I got a Fluminense one also- we continued to walk around, just to see what was being offered. After a while, passing a seemingly endless number of clothing stores, we found a guy selling video games. Old ones from my youth. Needless to say, I stopped to take a look.

It was like finding the hidden treasure at the center of the maze. He was selling a few Super Nintendos, N64s, PSOnes, and had stacks of old games, still in the original boxes. I saw a copy of the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers: The Movie game for Game Gear, and there was a Banjo-Kazooie (N64), Diddy Kong Racing (N64), and what looked to be an Earthworm Jim game for SNES. Earthworm Jim!

But tucked away, barely visible in the corner, was a copy of Starfox 64. I had it when I was younger, but foolishly traded it in for another game when I was around 10 or 11, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I can’t remember what I traded it in for, but still remember Starfox. Enough said.

So, curiosity took over, and I asked Leo to ask the guy how much it was. He took it off the shelf, and said R$45 (about $23 USD), so I said never mind. I can get it on eBay for half that price. The guy then tried to convince Leo to convince me to buy it by saying that I’m American, so I’m rich, and that I can afford it. Then he knocked it down to R$40, but I still said no.

That’s when he- a short, hairy gentleman in his early 40s- started talking rapidly and making odd hand gestures. He was pointing, he was smiling, and then he put his thumbs and index fingers together to form an upside down, elongated triangle that looked a little suspicious.

When the man finished talking, Leo turned to me, grinning broadly, and began to explain what he said. Apparently, if I were to buy a hooker for an hour, I would be spending the same amount of money on her that I would be on the game. So, according to the guy, rather than buy a hooker, I should buy the game. As compelling of an argument as it was, I had to decline, and leave empty handed.

So now I don’t have the game, and I have never bought a hooker. I guess I’ll just have to pass the time another way.

#10: Buy the National Football Team Jersey

Now I’m ready for the World Cup.

“Eu quero jogar tênis, mas eu não posso.”

I have to say, with less than two full days left, my success rate on my list is pretty high. I knew when I was making it that I would have a hard time doing everything. Some depended on the weather, some on finding the right location, and others depended on strangers. For the most part, I have been very fortunate, and have been able to do almost everything I wanted.

One of the things that didn’t quite work out was play tennis on a clay court.

The closest I came to playing on a clay court in two trips to Rio.

I love tennis. I love to play it, I love to watch it, and I love to write about it (which you can read here).  So it’s only natural that I would want to play on my vacation. The clay court factor is because they are not as common back home (although they can be found if you look), and almost all the professional tournaments held in South America are played on red clay. I think it would have been nice to play on a clay court in Brazil, but alas, it was not meant to be.

For a trip and a half, I put off really looking into it, despite living within walking distance of the Tijuca Tennis Club. Both times, I didn’t bring my racquet, because I knew I wouldn’t have anyone to play with (Leo doesn’t play). It was the kind of situation where I thought, “Oh, I’d like to play tennis,” but I’d done nothing to make it possible.

But that changed a few weeks ago, when Leo and I went to the Fluminense Football Club to buy the tickets for the soccer match. As we were walking around, we found four red clay tennis courts, available to rent through the club. It took all of my self-control not to push one of the kids off and start playing right then. Thankfully, I resisted, and settled for getting the number of one of their teaching pros. He would have a racquet for me. And he would know how to play. It would be perfect.

We (Leo) called him, and he offered us a spot for Monday, November 5, at 1 p.m. It would be a private lesson, he would hit with me, we’d play on the clay, etc. He gave us a reasonable price, and asked that we call him the morning of to confirm. So we (Leo) called him this morning, to confirm. Turns out, he rolled his ankle the other day, and can’t play. He can stand there and feed, so he’s still teaching, but he can’t run.

He recommended a few other people for us to call. Two of them didn’t pick up, and the third works out of a different club that had more hard courts (which I’m used to) than clay courts, a higher rate for a less court time, and was more difficult to get to. I’d have to take a bus or a train, and then a cab. No thanks, no thanks.

So my “dream” of playing tennis on a clay court in Brazil remains unrealizied, mostly through my own laziness. If I had looked this up earlier, I could have easily done it. But I got caught up in food and taking pictures of graffiti. Oh well, lesson learned. I can settle for at least seeing the clay courts. For now.