The Nudist

Every sunny day in Floripa I take as an opportunity to go to the plethora of beautiful beaches that comprise the circumference of the island. After only managing to get 3 hours of sleep last night I left the house drowsy and disoriented. I waited for the bus to come yet the ne’er-do-well never showed up. I walked to the bus station and ran into my German friend's girlfriend. It turned out we were all going to the same beach so we piled on to a crowded bus and I conversed with X, who eagerly, enthusiastically and fanatically told me details in English of her recent trip to the United States. We exited the bus at Praia Mole (Soft Beach) and walked through the frigid water to find a plot of sand to call our own. They warned me that if we continued to the end of the beach we would find unpleasant nudists waiting out arrival. We stuck to Praia Mole and I played a game of fresco ball (paddleball). I explained to my new friend the onomatopoeic term my family uses for paddleball, GniP-GnoP. They liked the silly word. The sun soon set and the cold air descended upon us.
We began walking to the bus stop and saw the massive traffic jam that clogged the main road that led to the eastern coast of the island. We decided that walking would be faster than taking the bus. We ascended and then descended a steep hill. We took a shortcut that led to a canopied trail. As we walked into the lush green darkness a rouge nudist scampered off into the brush. My friend alerted me to his prescience. We waited for any nudist fall-out but it appeared the coast was clear. We walked down the path with a sudden spring the nudist leaped from the bushes. Courageously I did what any self-respecting man would, shrieked comically like a pre-pubescent girl and my friend inadvertently apologized to the man in the buff for our presence in his buck-naked sanctuary.

Festa do Pinhão

Every year in the mountain Serra region of Brazil the citizens of Lages, Santa Catarina hold the festival of the pines. In this most southern and thus coldest region of Brazil there is a pine tree that grows a fruit that when smashed open has large cockroach resembling mahogany colored seeds. These seeds are steamed,cooked and then eaten. So logically the people of the region are so proud of these pines they hold a week long festival where people from all over the country flock to, including yours truly.

Thursday was the day of Corpus Christi (I'm learning about all types of catholic holidays I never knew existed!) Anyways I had the day off and people recommended checking out this festival as it celebrates the local culture in a colorful and vibrant way. I made a reservation with an excursion company that promised to take me from Florianópolis to the party and back all within 12 hours for R$30 Reais. (20 dollars more or less, I haven't checked the exchange rate in a while? Are we still behind the Serbian currency?)


I got to downtown and shuffled through a large procession of devoted Catholics. I have to say it really was more of a dirge, if there is a people who know how to walk slowly it's the Brazilian Catholics. Anyways I'll attach a video of the "parade" which the paper quoted as saying the promise of that parade was that it would was going to reach a level of Catholicism never demonstrated before in any of the other catholic pride parades.


We left around 6 o'clock in a white and yellow school van. The route was perilous as we climbed through mountainous peaks. The trip was 3 hours and I could feel the cold air advancing as we passed 18-wheelers around sharp turns. The driver blasted pagode music a popular derivative of samba that will get no further mention on this blog.

We arrived at the festival I bought my ticket through a small hole that smelled of the recently chopped pine that covered the exterior walls of the ticket shack. $10 reais and a wand-swept metal detection later I was in. I ate some food I had brought along for the journey and watched a traditional Gaúcho performance. The Gaúchos whom are spread across the Southern Brazilian, Northern Argentine, Uruguayan and Paraguayan borders are a people whose dress, dialect, music, food, beverage are descendants of Spanish and Indian traditions. Oh yeah, and they have really cool hats. Technically the people from Santa Catarina are not Gaúchos and their traditions generally reflect those of the Azorean, Italian and German immigrants. However, the people of the Santa Catarina Serra share much of these Gaúcho traditions with those of the most Southern State of Brazil, Rio Grande do Sul. (Did I already mention the hats?)




I'm still amazed by the amount of contrast a visitor can witness only traveling a few hours. I met a nice couple from a city called Nova Trento, which was settled by Trento Italian immigrants in the 18th century. They explained to me that across SC there is a myriad of dialects that are derived from German and Italian immigrants native tongues. They explained to me the non-self explanatory process of eating a pinhão. The seed of the celebrated pine. They are warm and spongy with a slight salty taste.

I experimented all the food and beverages available including Quentão and Choconaque. Quentão (very warm) is wine, pineapple, apple, ginger and cinnamon cooked in a big pot. Not very alcoholic but I liked talking to the lady who served me a few cups so it was worth it in the end. Choconaque is cognac with hot cocoa. After that I stuck to beer.

I met some nice girls from the area and they brought me to a stage that featured Gaúcho Rock music. Gaúcho music is a pulsating, undulating, jaunty and bouncy style that was masterfully demonstrated to me through the suggestive dancing of my newfound friends. Oh yeah and the band had some cool hats.

But all good things must come to an end so I decided to finish off my night with a sandwich. The name of sandwich escapes me at the moment but it consisted of no less than sausage, steak, pinhão and coração de frango. I realized about half way through I had bitten off more than I could chew with the chicken-heart stuffed sandwich. Oh well when in Rome, or at least Lages.

Novo PodgyCastch! (Podcast)

New Feature Everybody!

So once a month I'll be posting a podcast. Not just any podcast. I'll be focusing on one artist per month. This month's artist is Elis Regina the famous singer from the state of Rio Grande do Sul. This Gaúcha had a long and decorated career which I got to know quite intimately while listening to her 22 albums that spanned over 3 decades. I sifted through almost 10 hours of music to bring you a compact illustration of her prolific career. (I added a few cuts and gimmicks of my own.) If you have any questions about the songs please feel free to contact me and I'll give you some more info. Enjoy!

Mais Você

What would you think if I told you Matt Lauer has a new morning show host and he is a talking puppet named sir Lawrence who happens to be a Beaver. You probably wouldn't watch. Yet Mais Você a nationally broadcasted morning talk show that features a surgically plastic altered host named Ana Maria Braga and her lovable yet rambunctious sidekick Louro José who happens to be a talking parrot. This show is weird to me for other reasons as well. First off as I previously mentioned Senora Braga has had a lot of work done. I think she is a type of Android with an ass implant. (The ass implant part is true; the android theory is just my speculation). Secondly she eats and drinks on the show. Its not just a mug of water sitting with the guest as they chat about the current national scandal, which is unfortunately the death of a 5 Year old girl, the main suspects are her father and father's girlfriend. Anyways she's creepy.
But Brazilian TV is bad in other aspects. ) Globo is the largest network, which happens to be owned by a Jew. (Is there any media market we can’t infiltrate?) The network broadcasts dubbed American movies I’ve never seen or heard of, cartoons, the news and several novelas or what we would consider to be Brazilian Soap Operas throughout the day. 10 am is about an hour of cartoons spanning from Looney Toons to Mickey Mouse and even Bobby Esponja (Sponge Bob Squarepants) Novelas unlike our soap operas generally only last 6-12 months. Also novelas are the equivalent of prime-time TV only with considerably more shouting.
A novela is on 6 days per week. No repeats. I don't usually watch any, yet they are constantly on in my house, at the supermarket, gym etc. So they are kind of hard to miss.
Novelas are criticized for their unrealistic proportion of black Brazilians as characters. If there is a black character they generally tend to be a maid or the show takes place in colonial times and the character has something to do with slavery. I can't really follow the storylines without turning the volume up really loud. So as to not embarass myself I usually just pretend I know what’s going on. Plus who really wants to watch the dubbed version of Jumandi anyways?