Red, White, Blue, Yellow, Green...

Having missed Independence Day celebrations for the past four years, I was looking forward to this day with anticipation. Actually, I was anticipating a hot dog and a hamburger, you know. Food that you wouldn't catch me eating on any other day of the year! What I got (at a friend's picnic) was rice and curry, boniatos, sushi, and hummus and pita chips. So, I feel like I went to the amusement park and had to pass on cotton candy. Anyway, I got home wishing I had peanut butter and white bread in my cupboards. Too proud to go scrounge from my neighbors, as my friend Ellen just wrote, I made myself a tuna fish sandwich. With French bread, of course. For dessert? All I could find was a chocolate croissant.

Well, at least the weather is holding up and if it keeps like this I'll be able to watch the fireworks. I have my fingers really crossed!

Happy 4th of July, everyone!

The photograph here is of jilós, a veggie I've only seen in Brazil (so far!).

On Becoming Real

Tomorrow this little guy in the photograph and I are turning 65. I've decided to begin this post with a quote from "The Velveteen Rabbit," which I confess I've never read (the book). Even if my bunny is made of terrycloth and reminds me of an old bathrobe. It's the answer to the rabbit's question "When do you become REAL?" and I think it applies to people too.

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

As you can imagine, we've been through a lot the two of us, but, miraculously, we've both managed to keep our eyes. Through severe myopia and strabismus and early-onset cataracts surgery (me) and ten years spent hidden away inside an old armchair in my parents' home (him). Yes, I lost my rabbit when I was about five and found it again at fifteen. Have been carrying him around with me ever since. At this point, we go together like "The Blue Danube" and that PanAm flight to the space station in "2001." Perfectly suited for each other. His cotton loops and my head covering are still hanging in there, thank goodness. At this point in life, thinning hair scares me more than death. And I take care that we don't get shabby either, except where it can't be helped (I'm afraid we've become a tad deaf, somewhat faded, and so on). We strive for stylish still, as best as we can. So, when will WE become REAL?

The miniature Ritz Carlton beach chair I expropriated from my friend's desk at The Wolfsonian museum in South Beach years ago. The white beach bag came from a lingerie boutique at the Shopping Leblon in Rio de Janeiro. They tied that with a ribbon onto a little shopping bag. Brazilians are simply fantastic with attractive packaging...The picture was taken on a table at the back of my building when I moved in and we had perfect blue skies.

Jetsam and Flotsam

This little post is subtitled "Where Do All the Plastic Caps Come From?" There, I've asked the question. If you know the answer, at least regarding Miami-Dade County, please leave a comment!

In all the years I spent in Brazil I almost never went to the beach. The one exception was Fernando de Noronha. The reason being that I got completely spoiled by numerous diving and beach-bumming vacations on the British Virgin Islands. I hated the beaches in Rio; way too crowded and littered for my taste and, lately, much too chaotic and noisy. Thanks to the utter lack of city management over the past several years, a number of industrious and enterprising cariocas were able to helter-skelter take over the sands. They rent beach chairs and umbrellas and let you run a tab for cold beer, coconut water, and even food, if I remember right (you just wave your hand and they'll bring it to you). That wouldn't be so bad if they hadn't started offering free (and very refreshing, I grant you) showers, illegally pumping water from artesian wells, using deafening and polluting gasoline motors! I'll let you imagine what happens to the groundwater below.

Anyway, I'm pretty pleased with the quiet and quite deserted beach here, with the exception of the ubiquitous trash. You can't get away from this sad evidence of what humankind has been doing to the planet. I try to pick up what I can every day in the small stretch of beach I call my own. So far, I've found a disposable diaper, a long piece of fabric with large staples still attached to it (I assume it was once a boat curtain?), dangerous pieces of glass, an assortment of plastic bottles, and a ton of plastic bottle caps. Usually, feeling virtuous (yeah, yeah, I'm taking liberties with Ovid here!) is its own reward, but today I actually got paid one dollar for my efforts. I even took a picture of my bounty!

The title was inspired by something I read in "The Riddle of the Sands." One of the main characters was very fond of throwing overboard everything he didn't want or need. I know the book was written in 1903, but I still can't forgive him!

Singing the Praises of a Singer

I don't think I can even make my way through the first two verses of "Happy Birthday to You" without going out of tune. And I can't remember anything more excruciatingly painful (besides the visits to our dentist) than my piano lessons as a little girl. But, that never kept me from developing a deep love and appreciation of music, especially Brazilian sounds. And I have a dear friend in Rio who, pardonnez-moi le cliché, sings like a bird. I've heard that birds actually don't "sing," but be that as it may, Marcos is a beautiful, privileged, sensitive, funny, enchanting, (I'm running on with my adjectives here, but you get the picture) interpreter. He also has a knack for repertoire like no other singer of his generation. I've sung his praises many times before, but now that he has a new CD fresh off the presses, I thought it might be a good opportunity for another show of my undying love and support.


Meanwhile, I've been walking around my new town of Surfside, trying to look conspicuously like a recently-arrived foreigner. For that, besides appearing (genuinely) lost most of the time and enquiring of passing strangers the location of the Post Office and the closest café (mercifully, there's a French one, no less!), I've enlisted my small collection of Brazilian souvenirs, like these marvelous capim dourado bracelets. They're incredible conversation pieces, as you can imagine, and I hope they'll help me make some new friends! If you've watched an American reality show featuring the Brazilian state of Tocantins, take it from me: it's all b.....Been there, done that, camping by a splendid, pristine river, climbing up mesas to take in breathtaking views, etc. All that, at 61 years old! Anyway, that's where all these gorgeous pieces of costume jewelry come from.

Marcos' new CD, "Na Cabeça", is available through Biscoito Fino in Rio. He's currently on a European tour. Check his website for cities and dates.

Marcos Sacramento Photo Credit: Edu Monteiro

Miami Beach Bum Says "Bom Dia!"

After going AWOL for several weeks, the prima donna in the post below has been spotted atop a coconut palm on a beach a few miles north of Miami. And no, there are no immediate plans to return to the forested hills of Rio. Que pena!

Well, there are good things and bad things about being transplanted to the U.S. One upsetting detail: no one looks you in the eye and smiles (or very few people do). One very positive aspect: things still seem to work with a certain degree of efficiency here. I could even be daring and affirm that, in certain ways, they have improved considerably in four years. Take my broadband provider, for instance. If you remember a post called "Killing Me Softly" from two years ago, you'll recall that my Brazilian ISP/cable company, NET, almost had me sitting on the floor crying like a helpless child...I'm pleased to note that it took one phone call on Wednesday for two very capable technicians to show up here on Thursday and have me up and running at hyperspeed in no time at all! Not being accustomed to such rapidity and competency, I confess that I was floored and could have kissed the two of them! But they were in and out in minutes...to their next appointment.

This photograph was taken out of my window. I'm lucky with views! And I have had help moving and settling in. A young man from Ohio with the most beautiful (hazel? My fault, I haven't had leisure to stare at his face...) eyes and three other dear friends have pitched in.

I do miss everyone in Brazil terribly. And the markets. The produce section of my supermarket is minimal. The remainder of the fabulously-stocked store is taken over by bagged, canned, boxed, or otherwise packaged foods with a long list of unedible ingredients. Yikes! But I've decided to take advantage of the spectacular beach for a few months, at least. Yesterday, there were tarpon feeding at some schools of fish that were swimming all around me. Looking straight ahead, somewhere beyond the horizon, it's the islands of the Bahamas. I sat on the beach mesmerized for about an hour envying the fish their freedom and watery world, wishing that it would be possible for me to just start swimming and go see what I'd find out there...

MIA...Our Correspondent in Brazil

Our Brazilian correspondent went missing, after pecking at her laptop keyboard for a couple of years from the general vicinity of Corcovado Mountain in Rio. Last seen flying in a general northwesterly direction.

We'll keep you posted if the bird ever turns up again!

Trying to Live a Good Story

I flew up to Miami a week ago. Brazil already seems like a place I left in a galaxy far, far away. At least, I feel like someone who fell to Earth; I get baffled reading labels at the supermarket, I get dizzy walking through the aisles at Bed, Bath and Beyond. Trying to figure out what to do with your life is difficult at any age, I guess, but I was hoping that by the time I got to be 65 I would know exactly what and where I wanted to be. Who, me? I'm a few weeks away from becoming a card-carrying member of Medicare and the puzzle is getting increasingly more difficult to figure out. So, once again, I've appropriated a line from a movie I liked very much to describe what's going on with me (the first phrase was Status Quo Vadis; once more, you're invited to try and guess which film...I'll give you a hint: it's by the same director). All I know for sure is that there is a story out there that I started to live a long, long time ago in a remote corner of Brazil and that I've been trying to make it a good one. And that, at the present moment, doesn't include worrying about microwave ovens and plasma TVs. And that is the only certainty I have. Everything else is a question mark.

This is the last photograph I took in Rio, out of the second bedroom window. Just saying goodbye for a while.

Carpamus Diem

My beloved Latin professor would be very proud of his student, if he could see me conjugating verbs like I just walked out of the classroom (and not 40+ years later). For those of you who never sat through hours of "amo, amas, amat" and Ovid translations, this title means something like "let's enjoy life here and now." As a matter of fact, my first choice was "My Time Is Now" (as in the documentary about the sambista Paulinho da Viola), which is pretty close, but this way it becomes an invitation to all to enjoy the present time; in other words, the only time we've got.

I'm saying goodbye to all my friends and favorite foods (more or less simultaneously) and I think that both facts account for a spell of tummy ache: too many emotions and an overabundance of calories and caipirinhas...

If you want to take the collective pulse in Brazil, there's no better place than a bar, and, as you may have figured out from the previous paragraph, I've been to quite a few recently. The other night I couldn't help overhearing (no one could, this woman was shouting!) the following outburst against politicians: they're all liars, they're all involved in scandals or implicated in crimes. And she proceeded to name but a few of said public figures whose devious doings have graced print and broadcast news in the past couple of weeks (years?). We all looked in the direction of her table and one of my dinner companions had this comment: I apologize for saying this when we're all eating, but there's only one word to describe Brasília and that is "cesspool." Anyway, you get a general idea of the state of play; according to the newsweekly Veja and some TV commentators I've been listening to, the only (and obvious) democratic way out is through the vote; no one wants to see the Senate and Congress shut the doors, much less a return to military rule, God forbid! I see all this as a sign that the country is improving, becoming "more like the U.S." (if you read the previous post); if only Brazilians take advantage of technology (Twitter comes to mind!) to force transparency and decency down their representatives' collective throats, until they can be removed by ballot in 2010!

Any good news, you may ask? Oh, yeah! My favorite singer is releasing a new CD in May. I'm not supposed to say anything yet, but by all accounts it's a masterpiece! And, a dear friend from California has offered me his gorgeous apartment on the beach in Surfside, FL at a discounted rate...in the same general neighborhood where my daughter lives.

Now, if I can fit all my stuff in my suitcases this weekend, I'll be as happy as a puppy!

Brazil vs. USA

Apart from the latest scandal du jour (someone just blew the whistle on congressmen who receive and distribute free airline tickets to family, friends, lovers, and television personalities for trips within Brazil and vacations abroad, paid for by the Brazilian taxpayers, I kid you not!), what is there to write about when moving anxiety threatens to overwhelm you? Well, I've been reading about the Summit of the Americas and President Obama...aaahhh, at last a breath of fresh air, especially when you compare him with the pathetic representatives of very old-news, very stale, leftist governments in South America. Impossible not to draw comparisons between the U.S. and Brazil, the two giants on these longitudes. And that reminds me of a few prophetic words my brother uttered, only half in jest, about three decades ago: "Brazil," he said, "is the country of the future not because it's going to become like the United States, but because the United States will become like Brazil." You know, I think I'm coming to the realization that he was right. Have you tried customer service in the U.S. lately? Getting pretty close to the way things are in Brazil. Traffic? Well, if you live in Miami, I don't even need to explain! Energy-efficient cars? Biofuels? Sounds awfully like Brazil to me! Bad roads? Well, we're getting there. Is this enough? On the other hand, as my sister-in-law said the other day: life in Brazil is so much better than when she first came here in the 1970s. And, in spite of all kinds of tiptoeing and dancing around by Lula's administration in dealings with Argentina, Bolivia (see the natural gas crisis), and Venezuela, I don't think you have to be a political analyst to feel, I'd say, almost hear, the resentment towards this nation. The thing is, Brazil has everything going for it, and if it doesn't really become "like the U.S.," it's because its leaders are wasting or have wasted, rather, a tremendous chance.

Changing subjects entirely, if you'd like a tip on a good book, I just finished reading "The Riddle of the Sands," by Erskine Childers. I bought it for ten reais!, a Penguin Popular Classics edition, at Livraria da Travessa in Ipanema. It's my favorite bookstore in the entire world, now that I haven't lived in Boston for years and years (and, in any case, I bet my old haunts are all gone, now that we all shop at Amazon.com). I don't know what I'm going to do when bookstores as we knew them disappear from the face of the Earth. Oh, but then I should be gone, too...not to worry, I guess! Back to this small volume: it's got spies and yachting up and down the foggy coasts of northern Germany and Holland one October about a hundred years ago. If you enjoy sailing, you'll love it!

Cheap & Chic Tip: I just visited the Havaianas flagship store in São Paulo. Every style is available and you can create your own, too. I wish they had paid me for this sort-of-advertisement with about ten pairs at least, but they didn't.

(En)Chanted Word

This week it was my intention to write about the soap opera I have going on with the HSBC branch near me here in Rio. I had even picked a good title for the post; I was going to call it "Bank Robbers." But I'll leave this for the end, because fortunately I went to see a documentary about poetry in Brazilian song called "Palavra (En)Cantada," so my mind and emotions are much more happily engaged than in the past few days. This country has an embarrassment of riches when it comes to its lyricists, so much so that it's extremely difficult for anyone to pick out her/his favorite verses. Raise the question and you have food for long, animated discussions around any bar table; go to any show, be it Caetano Veloso or Cordão do Fogo Encantado, a hip-hop contest in Lapa or a popular fair in northeastern Brazil, and you'll hear pure poetry. And, of course, everywhere you go, people KNOW the words to dozens, if not hundreds, of songs.

I'm not sure if I really liked Helena Solberg's documentary (I loved her "Carmen Miranda: Bananas Is My Business" years ago), because I think it left out too much and at times it seems to lose its way. But there are some great moments (I particularly enjoyed the interviews with José Miguel Wisnik, BNegão, and Luiz Tatit) and it would be nice if it played in schools here, I think. And I hope it makes it to the U.S. The best thing for me was actually what someone wrote inspired by the film, and I'm going to make an attempt at translating/quoting him: "If Lula is indeed 'my man' as Obama says...I have my doubts. My vote goes to the songwriters of Brazil." Amen!

As far as the bank is concerned, this is what happened: Back in December I tried to get cash out of an ATM there. I got back a receipt saying something to the effect that the machine wasn't able to dispense the cash...but they took the money out of my account anyway. And don't want to give it back to me! This being a bank, and unfortunately a bank in Brazil, the telenovela is likely to go on for another three to four months. I hope it has a happy-ending, for my sake.