The Silver Spring of Brazil

Not that I have anything against the Silver Sprung, but I made a mistake when I moved to the Silver Spring of Brazil. My city Jundiaí is located 40-60 minutes North of São Paulo, the largest city in South America. If I were planning on raising a family in Brazil, buying property or starting my own ball bearing sales department for a Swiss company I think Jundiaí would be a marvelous place to live, however I have no intention of doing any of those things.
My school is a beauracratic nightmare. Teachers are allowed 1000 copies per week, averaging out to 166.66 pages a day. For every piece of paper printed or copied one has to fill out a card and hand it to a 16 year old lackey to print it. Yet the printer is incapable of even printing 500 pages a day total. It constantly breaks and shuts down. We are not talking about a Xerox; most of us have superior printers in our residences.
Not to mention I was teaching one class of complete beginners without books one day never to see them again, and then another class of complete beginners without books the next day never to see them again. I stopped caring stopped trying to build a bond because what’s the point. I became very frustrated with my job.
Especially two weeks ago when we had our first vacation after 2 months of working 6 days a week they told us we couldn't let our classes out 10 minutes early so that we could catch the bus to São Paulo that would be taking us out of town for the weekend. Combined with the fact I didn't like the city I was living in I decided enough was enough.
My supervisor, entered the room I was sitting in and told me students were complaining that I wasn't making an attempt at developing a relationship, I told her "Before I respond to that I better let you know that this will be my last month at Oxbridge." She was a little shocked and I told her my reasoning that the school's methodology didn't provide sufficient training for the students, I wasn't very happy in my surroundings and I was becoming increasingly bitterer with every passing day. I told her I would be leaving the next payday, which is today. After I told her this it was like a huge burden was taken off my shoulders. I no longer cared about the petty, red tape inflicted rules I had to pretend to follow.
The truth is no one in their right mind would come to Jundiaí looking to escape. My first choice was a city called Florianopolis, an island in the South of Brazil in the state of Santa Catarina. The people there are mostly German immigrants with a strong prescience of Azorean Portuguese traditions. A few weeks back I was eating dinner at the fried food establishment across the street called la mama, when an acquaintance was talking on the phone to a former teacher of Oxbridge, my school who happened to be his ex-girlfriend. I got put on the phone with her and we began chatting. She's and Arizonan who worked at Oxbridge for about 9 months and then quit and went to Florianopolis. She told me that I could find a job there and she would put me up until I found a job at a hotel, or school or what have you. So that conversation put all the wheels in motion. The only thing holding me back from going there in the first place was the reasoning I didn't want to lug around 2 suitcases for a month or so without anywhere to stay or a contact in a strange city.
All in all it took me about a week to decide and I'm really happy with my decision. My boss was very pleasant and they are going to pay me in full for the time I worked here this month as well as the cost I incurred fixing my computer. (Another story altogether) My visa situation might get complicated; my boss says he's obligated to tell the Federal Police that I'll be leaving the school. Which means everyday I stay past my visa expiration I will be charged $4 dollars American when I want to return to Brazil. Also I will not be able to leave the country and return.
My last weekend in Jundiaí was very pleasant. I went to a house party and met an agitated Lebanese Brazilian who dubbed Washington D.C. as a "shit city" (strike 1) and said his family had to leave Lebanon because of the "Fuckin' Israelis" (foul tip). Anyways the next day I went to a BBQ with my friend Ana and my Canadian friend Peter. It was really fun we ate some delicious food and played with her 8 year old cousin and his friends. Her cousin Eduardo or "Du-Du" as they fondly call him is an energetic rabble-rouser with an ample belly. I told him that his name "du-du" in English means "co-co" in Portuguese, or poop. He was not pleased to hear this. This awkward silence was broken by their Dachshund who spent the afternoon incessantly chasing his tail. We played a game called Bats that is pretty much like cricket until Peter and I were too lazy and drunk to appear interested any longer.
So I leave tonight on a 12-hour bus ride South. I'm really excited and pleased with my decision. I'm a little disappointed I'll have to leave the friends I've made in my brief time here in Jundiaí, I know I've made the right decision because everyone I've mentioned my plans to asks me why I didn't do this earlier.