Festa Julina

Brazilians are running out of excuses to have parties. Last month was Festa Junina, Little June Party and this month is, you guessed it, Festa Julina, Little July Party.
I asked my friend to clarify the matter of their origins. She matter-of-factly responded,
"Festa Junina is a party for the month of June, but Festa Julina is the fake one, it's just a party for the month of July."
"What's the difference?" I incredulously asked
" I don't know. Some History" She logically replied. (Brazilians confuse History and Story. Same word in Portuguese. Makes for comical situations, for example "Let me tell you a history!")
So the least you need to know about Festa Junina, and Julina for that matter are they are parties in the months of June and July that celebrate the Northeastern Caipira (bumpkin) rural culture of Brazil. Women wear gaudy, multicolored polka-dotted or quilt-patterned dresses, dot their cheeks with freckles, and braid their hair in pig tails that leave them resembling Pippy Long-Stocking. Men don goofy straw hats, slip into plaid/checkered long sleeve shirts accompanied by overalls, (which I beleive to be inspired by the grunge movement of the 90s), black out their teeth and paint fake moustaches.
The colorful, streaming ribbons that hung at the Festa Julina my condominium threw this past Saturday were a familiar scene for me after attending similar parties for the past two months. Thankfully the food didn't stray far from that recipe and it didn't disappoint: popcorn, hot dogs, soda, cake, peanuts, and a piping-hot styrofoam cup of Quentão (see Festa do Pinhão to jog your memory.) All that was missing was a rickety ferris wheel and a couple of midgets and I swear you could have told me I was at the Montgomery County Fair Grounds in Gaithersburg and I would have believed you.

Here's video from a famous Festa Junina celebration from the Northeast of Brazil, where it all got started. (Sorry about the ad preceding the video. That's Globo for you.)

Mano

I approached the car and I already knew he was going to drive like a maniac. The two door black coupe of my student wasn't anything special, yet i immediately recalled the Brazilian Male's affinity for driving like a psychopath. One of my private students had invited me to go to the beach this past Friday afternoon, and as I had no plans, I indifferently accepted. It then dawned on me that the reason I had no plans that afternoon was because this very student had cancelled our class.
He refuses to speak to me in Portuguese and has impolitely criticized my Portuguese in front of others, but as an English teacher one has to make little compromises in order to hold on to your students. However I suddenly realized entering the car he had weaseled his way into a free 3 hour English lesson. He is traveling out of the country soon and wanted two weeks of intensive lessons however in less than a week he's already tried to change the originally negotiated conditions and price several times.
As he roared down the curling roads he honked or commented at nearly every woman aged 12-30, and velocity permitting halted the car to invite unsuspecting girls to the beach, all of this accompanied by a thumping techno soundtrack. This guy plays 100% into the sex-crazed, beach-loving Brazilian stereotype.
We went to a cliff where you can jump into the cold but deep water. Along the path get this, I saw a penguin. Apparently you can see many penguins here in Florianópolis, but, they are how can I lightly put this, corpses. Penguins have no business being this far up North from the South Pole, so chew on that Mr. Al Gore.
He expressed frustration with Brazil's new nationwide zero tolerance drunk driving program because of it's interference to his methods of seduction which consist of wine and skinny dipping.
After the sun went down we went back to the car where he received a telephone call from an ex-girlfriend. He switched between the stick shift, steering wheel, and cell phone as if he were an amateur juggler until he was pulled over by the cops for not wearing his seat belt and talking on the phone at the same time. Apparently you can do one or the other but not both simultaneously. The officer let him off the hook and the entire ordeal took no less than 30 seconds. Slightly thereafter he was peeling down the highway out of the vision of the policeman tearing off his cumbersome seat belt with relief. He's a character to say the least and truly gave me some insight into the macho culture that prevails so eminently in Brazil.

A Área é Nossa!

Inside the gated walls of Condominium Itambé reside over 1200 dwellers, making it one of the largest residences in the city of Florianopolis. Decades ago the citizens of Itambé constructed a leisure area behind the buildings that comprise of a BBQ pit, a party room as well as volleyball, basketball and soccer courts. Not to mention this area served as an alternative exit and convenient passageway to both the shopping mall and bus station. Despite these modifications and sense of entitlement, legally, the area continued to be owned by a construction firm who since the 1990's had been relentlessly attempting to regain the area in question through litigation. The construction firm wanted to do what construction firms do best; Construct.
In May, a month after I moved into Itambé it appeared as if the construction firm had managed to win it's 20-year court battle. The construction company immediately placed their own stooge at the gate just to show the tenants who was boss. The tenants responded by hiring a lawyer because of the devaluation the ensuing takeover would inflict upon their properties.
This situation came to a head last week when covertly at the break of dawn the construction company obstructed the gate with an impenetrable barricade. The tenants transformed from indignant to furious. The police and local media were called and the residents began a vehement protest. There is only 3 meters of space between the wall that separates my room and the leisure area. The company quickly posted a baker's dozen worth of guards and began the hasty construction of a stone-henge resembling structure in the middle of the soccer pitch.
I participated in the non-violent resistance movement against the placement of the guards by walking around my apartment in the buff. However, once I discovered that children and other residents were scurrying around the area between my window and the wall as well, I decided to conclude my buck naked silent-protest.
My English lesson was interrupted Monday night because of jubilant cheering and triumphant woo-hooing. I ran out of my apartment just in time to witness the residents smashing the Berlin wall of Brazil to pieces. The guards had left. The court had decided the company was illegally occupying the area. The judge returned the area to the tenants and as soon as it had started it was over. The residents of the condominium rejoiced hand-in-hand and and chanted "Kumbaya My Lord" only to a percussive samba rhythm.
(Just kidding no samba) but they did celebrate their victory by chanting "The area is ours! The area is ours!" only it was in Portuguese so unless I was there to translate you probably wouldn't have understood that. There were passionate speeches that followed and smiling faces in the crowd. Score one for the little guys.