I arrived in Salvador last night under different circumstances. I woke up yesterday in Rio at 5:00 AM. We took a taxi to the American consulate before the sun came up. We were the first ones to wait in line. The busy city came to life within 30 minutes. Within the hour the pollution of the over congested city took its toll on respiration. Joaci said his apartment couldn’t stay clean because of the remnants of smoke from the city. Joice was the first person allowed into the consulate.
During this time I began to crack Joaci’s shy demeanor. He has a huge interest in American culture that was apparent from his questions about who my candidate was Hilary or Obama. His eyes lit up when we started talking about American celebrities such as Britney Spears. However one way I didn’t appreciate his interest in US culture was his blasting of a Louis Armstrong DVD and John Coltrane CD this morning. Anyway we got to know each other a little better during the time Joice was in the consulate.
Joice came out with bad news, they rejected her Visa. They were suspicious she would be working for the family that sponsored her Visa. “What now Dad?” He made some calls to a university professor and we all brainstormed Ideas. Joice and I sent some e-mails. I sent one to my formed boss to see if she knew about the subject. We took the metro back to Botafogo I took a nap.
We went to a Kilo Restaurant that is a buffet style of food where you pile as much food on your plate that you are willing to pay for and then it is weighed. You pay for how much your plate weighs. I’m not the biggest fan. We went and bought some 50 SPF sunblock because I could feel myself already becoming a lobster.
We took a bus to Rio’s famed Copacabana Beach which was bordered by a massive stretch of hotels on one side and a and Ocean with hills jutting out of its water on the other. We went back to the apartment and prepared to depart to the airport for Salvador.
We took a bus to the airport through Rio’s crowded, traffic-clogged, colorful sun-baked streets. I don’t think I’ve ever realized how ugly graffiti can be, but when tags cover every available piece of Real Estate in the city its not an art form. Far from the tourist and commercial center of Rio it seems the city has largely forgotten or pushed the residents here to an unfortunate existence only seen by tourists and rich Brazilians on their way to the airport. On the plane I read an article about how one of Rio’s most famous scenic beaches is in danger of having favelas ruin its Post Card image. This wasn’t a sociological examination of why this was happening. It wasn’t a bartender asking why his customer was so drunk and passed out on his bar but more like saying“ You don’t got to go home buddy but you can’t stay here.”
Overall I think Rio is a horrible city set in a marvelous location. Like a rose in a cemetery…I mean like a cemetery in a rose. (I think I’ll stop with the similes and metaphors altogether.) Rio’s infrastructure and economy can’t support its population’s needs and because of this articles are written to “Save the post card”
We arrived in Salvador and Taynah; Joice’s sister picked us up at the airport. It was a little awkward but funny. “So do you like Alex, or Alex?” With the emphasis on the second syllable.
We got back to the apartment in Salvador. It’s a cramped, crowded, hot sticky but warm a loving place. Joice’s mom came and left earlier in the day. She left a huge delicious meal of rice, ground beef, yucca, steak and fresh squeezed juice. It was D-Lish. Joice and I went to a bar across the street ad talked about the day.
She was seriously 10 times more upset when she didn’t get her driver’s license this past summer then when she didn’t get her Visa. She’s going to try to go to Recife and try once more. Joice seems very happy here with her family and she is making me tons of food and waiting on me hand and foot which she never does in the states so I can’t complain. She is open to the idea of moving back to Brazil and finishing university here.
She wants me to stay and look for jobs teaching in Salvador which I’m not sure about. I have a commitment with a school all the way across the country in Sao Paulo that is what my Visa is dependent upon. While they probably won’t send a fugitive team out to find me I don’t feel entirely comfortable abandoning the school. I think she might have failed the interview on purpose. Every Brazilian woman we meet tells her to be careful with me “Brazilian women are crazy.” Joice tightens her grip on my hand everytime. Needless to say the trip has taken a new dynamic.
We went back home and I was shown my bedroom in Salvador that is a bare white-walled room with a concrete floor, a dresser, a mountain bike and barely enough room for a bed. To tell you the truth it’s a little like a prison cell complete with bars on the windows even though the apartment is on the third floor. (Side note: The apartment was broken into by a robber climbing up the other barred in windows on the first two floors to break into Joice’s third floor apartment that didn’t have bars before. Where there’s a will there’s a way!) I think putting me in the prison cell was her Dad idea.
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