You know those tall, nubby looking mountains you always see in pictures surrounding Rio? Yeah, I climbed one. And not just any one. Pedra da Gávea is one of the most spectacular and strenuous urban climbs in South America. The rock is easily distinguishable by large flat top that rises out of the Western skyline. The face of the rock looks like a carved figure, and there are ancient inscriptions on one of its sides, which have led to theories that the rock contains an ancient tomb, a time portal, and/or a UFO landing site. Whatever the case, it is cool as hell.
The 2.5 hour hike up was the craziest hike of my life. First of all, we did it at breakneck pace because a) we were afraid it would get dark before we reached the top, and b) we didn’t know each other well enough to say “slow the hell down! I’m dying here!” Something that we laugh about now since the events to follow definitely made us very close… literally.
Apparently the hike itself is only 1 mile, but in that mile, hikers also rise over a half-mile in altitude. They definitely don’t have things like this in Illinois, but I’m not in Illinois anymore that’s for sure. Seven students in my program and I made our way through various landscapes from dense tropical forest, to dry barren rocks. At points we had to use vines and grass to hoist ourselves up the rocks. Also, near the top, there was a 30 m rock-face that we later learned you are supposed to use legit ropes to climb. Oh well, despite the tense moments we made it to the top, tired but feeling very accomplished. The view from the top was incredible! The 360-degree view allowed us to see the rolling hills and jagged peaks of Barra da Tijuca coastline, lagoons, the gigantic sprawl of the Rocinha favela, and the entire south zone of the city and more.
Once we reached the top, we relaxed, stretched our sore muscles, had a snack, and settled in to watch the GORGOUS sunset over the ocean. Talk about a good reward. Exhausted, we cuddled up on the rocks (ha) and settled in for a good nights sleep. Or so we thought. About an hour later, we were all marveling at the beautiful way the lightening WAY off in the distance lit up the western sky, when a sudden shift in wind and sudden drop in temperature caused us to look behind us. The eastern sky was very dark and a storm was blowing in from the ocean. And quick. We quickly gathered our stuff, and carefully scrambled down the rocks to find shelter in a dinky cave a few meters down from the top (wait, when did I start using the metric system? haha). Everyone had a good attitude about the situation and we laughed it off by telling stories and getting to know each other for the first few hours. Oh! I almost forgot. I got hit by lightening. Kinda. You see, the lightening was very very close and must have hit the rock we were sheltering under and sent a wave of conduction into my leg. Just me. No one else felt it. It didn’t hurt, but definitely scared me!
Soon the novelty wore off and it started getting very cold. Since no one had brought warm clothes (it had been 104 degrees when we hiked up), we literally spooned together on the sloped floor of the cave (aka: you couldn’t move or you would roll out of the cave) and “slept” until daylight. I don’t know if any sleeping happened but the next few hours were a drowsy blur. As morning drew closer, we once again climbed the summit and watched the beautiful sunrise over the city. I wish I could say that I saw the whole thing, but the flat rock at the top was a welcome comfort after that cave and I kept falling asleep. Every time I opened my eyes the sky was a different shade of brilliant red/orange. Another 3 hours later, we emerged from the forest filthy, exhausted, sweaty, and feeling badass. We just spent the night in a cave on the top of a mountain during a thunderstorm in the middle of Brazil. How many people can say that?
February 15, 2010
the sombódromo
Last week I (along with about 70,000 other people) went to an official samba school practice/dress rehearsal at the Sombódromo (the runway where the schools compete to be considered the best samba school in Rio). There are many samba schools in Rio and only 24 get to compete during Carnaval. Of the schools that compete, they are divided into two categories: A and B. Each year one school moves up from B to A and one moves down. When a school moves down, it is a disgrace to their school and their reputation takes a hit. Therefore, competition is fierce. As they compete, judges critique everything from their rhythm, to their smiles.
When I attended, the Mangueira samba school (one of the largest in Rio) was practicing on the runway. The coolest. Thing. Ever. Over 4,000 samba school members participated in the parade. They were divided into different groups. Some wore colorful costumes such as huge dresses or simply jeweled lingerie and others simply danced in their samba school official shirts. There were dancers on top of big platforms dancing their hearts out. The show lasted 80 minutes, which is the amount of time allocated for each school to flaunt their samba skills for the judges. The official Mangueira song was played during the entire show and everyone in the audience danced and sang along in the crowded bleachers, hardly aware that they were not on the runway themselves!
When I attended, the Mangueira samba school (one of the largest in Rio) was practicing on the runway. The coolest. Thing. Ever. Over 4,000 samba school members participated in the parade. They were divided into different groups. Some wore colorful costumes such as huge dresses or simply jeweled lingerie and others simply danced in their samba school official shirts. There were dancers on top of big platforms dancing their hearts out. The show lasted 80 minutes, which is the amount of time allocated for each school to flaunt their samba skills for the judges. The official Mangueira song was played during the entire show and everyone in the audience danced and sang along in the crowded bleachers, hardly aware that they were not on the runway themselves!
February 6, 2010
is this real life?
The Intensive Language Class is finally over! I’m not really sure how much it helped, but I’m sure it didn’t hurt. I now have off until March 2nd ☺ Wow, I have a hard life.
Carnaval officially starts next Saturday, but in the minds of Cariocas, it has already begun. Prices have been raised on everything, tourists are beginning the influx, and there are street parties all day, everyday on the weekends.
Since class ended Thursday, Thursday night all the international students had a party to celebrate, which ended with a crazy dance party with our cab driver, and swimming at the beach at 5am.
But even crazier than all that, is what came prior. A pizza rodizio!! Basically, you sit down and every kind of pizza you can think of (and many you couldn’t) comes circling around to your table. We feasted on pizza with shrimp, cheeseburger, palms, corn, fish, and much more. After eating more than enough, they then came out with the “pizza doce” or desert pizzas. Oh. My. God. There was chocolate pizza with strawberries, fried banana pizza, carmel pizza, pineapple pizza, and the list goes on… I’m totally bringing this to America.
Yesterday, we spent the day at a beautiful, secluded beach called Prainha south of Rio. It ended up being quite an adventure. To get there, we took an hour bus, and then hiked an hour (all in 100 plus degree heat). We then relaxed on the beach there for 4 hours and took frequent dips in the cool water (although the ridiculously strong current didn’t quite make for a relaxing swim). Surfers were everywhere which made for an even better view, if you know what I mean ☺
After we had our fill of the sun and waves, we started home. Luckily, an ice truck saw us suffering and let us hop in the back of his truck for a lift to the next beach over. We then walked another 45 mins or so to the bus stop. We ended up waiting there for about a half hour since everytime a bus that we needed came, he passed us by without stopping. Here, busses sometimes don’t stop for you for one reason or another. Maybe you’re too wet or sandy from the beach, maybe you are carrying something big they don’t want on their bus, maybe they are in the wrong lane to pull over, or maybe they simply don’t feel like it. Eventually, we did get a bus home, but it was at the peak of rush hour. Traffic is HORRIBLE in Rio and it took us about twice as long to get home. Still, so worth it!
Carnaval officially starts next Saturday, but in the minds of Cariocas, it has already begun. Prices have been raised on everything, tourists are beginning the influx, and there are street parties all day, everyday on the weekends.
Since class ended Thursday, Thursday night all the international students had a party to celebrate, which ended with a crazy dance party with our cab driver, and swimming at the beach at 5am.
But even crazier than all that, is what came prior. A pizza rodizio!! Basically, you sit down and every kind of pizza you can think of (and many you couldn’t) comes circling around to your table. We feasted on pizza with shrimp, cheeseburger, palms, corn, fish, and much more. After eating more than enough, they then came out with the “pizza doce” or desert pizzas. Oh. My. God. There was chocolate pizza with strawberries, fried banana pizza, carmel pizza, pineapple pizza, and the list goes on… I’m totally bringing this to America.
Yesterday, we spent the day at a beautiful, secluded beach called Prainha south of Rio. It ended up being quite an adventure. To get there, we took an hour bus, and then hiked an hour (all in 100 plus degree heat). We then relaxed on the beach there for 4 hours and took frequent dips in the cool water (although the ridiculously strong current didn’t quite make for a relaxing swim). Surfers were everywhere which made for an even better view, if you know what I mean ☺
After we had our fill of the sun and waves, we started home. Luckily, an ice truck saw us suffering and let us hop in the back of his truck for a lift to the next beach over. We then walked another 45 mins or so to the bus stop. We ended up waiting there for about a half hour since everytime a bus that we needed came, he passed us by without stopping. Here, busses sometimes don’t stop for you for one reason or another. Maybe you’re too wet or sandy from the beach, maybe you are carrying something big they don’t want on their bus, maybe they are in the wrong lane to pull over, or maybe they simply don’t feel like it. Eventually, we did get a bus home, but it was at the peak of rush hour. Traffic is HORRIBLE in Rio and it took us about twice as long to get home. Still, so worth it!
First Futébol Game
Last week, I attended my first Brazilian soccer game… and what a game to see. It was the Flamengo v. Fluminense (Fla-Flu) game in the Rio de Janeiro city championship tournament. Apparently, this cross-town rivalry began way back in 1911 when a few unhappy Fluminese players, left the club and joined the Flamengo club where they started the soccer program there.
Flamengo is the most successful team in Rio State Championships. They are “up one” on the Fluminense 31-30. There is also an interesting social dynamic between the two teams. Fluminense was originally started by sons of the elite who had come into contact with soccer while studying in Europe. Since then, it has been traditionally supported by the wealthy, which leads to resentment from the middle and lower class fans.
Before the game, it was already apparent the sincere divide between allegiances. When presenting our ticket (which was in the “neutral” and “tame” section of the stadium… tame is a very relative term) we had to declare which team we were rooting for. Randomly choosing Flamengo, we were told we had to go to the other side of the stadium. In Brazil, it is necessary to divide teams spectators simply for protection. Those wearing jerseys, had to take them off to walk through the opposing team’s side of the stadium, or risk getting hardcore heckled or even assaulted.
Once inside the 95,000-seat stadium Maracaná Stadium, you couldn’t help but feel the energy. Between all the fireworks (snuck in by spectators and set off in the stands), waving banners, and zealous chants, the atmosphere was indescribable. We faked as much enthusiasm as we could muster after arbitrarily choosing to support Flamengo and attempted to mouth the cheers, waving our shirts in the air with the best of them. Our support must have helped because Flamengo had a late comeback to take the win!
January 26, 2010
adventures in brazilian bureaucracy
Today I registered with the Federal Police, an assurance that bureaucracy is universal. When you arrive in Brazil and are staying for a longer period of time, you must register with the police within 30 days of your arrival, basically so they know you are where you say you are. Luckily, the school organizes groups of students to go each day, and drives us 30 minutes to the International Airport on the other side of the city where the office is located. Apparently, they only see 60 “estrangeiros” per day (a term they use for foreigners, which sounds more like “alien” to me). They begin handing out numbers at 7am and the office opens at 8am. If you don’t get there before 6:30am, you are likely out of luck (which happened to us yesterday☹). Therefore, we met at 6am for a sleepy bus ride to the airport, waited in line till 7:30am when they finally decided to start handing out numbers, and then proceeded to wait in a waiting room until 1pm when we were finished being processed.
Anywhere else, 6 hours in a waiting room would seem like eternity, but I found it rather interesting. Between reading, chatting with other students, and going on coffee breaks, I studied the others in the waiting room. People from all over the world waited patiently for an attendant to examine their documents and fingerprint them. They all seemed prepared for the wait and no one seemed rushed to get out. Unlike in the US, people were not complaining, talking loudly on cell phones, or diligently working from a laptop or smart phone. In fact, they seemed rather relaxed.
We chatted with an Egyptian cage fighter who is training in Brazil for 6 months, and joked around with the fingerprint guy who told us “his wife would be upset if he knew he got to hold hands with all these pretty girls in one day.” Besides the expected one cranky, overweight, hating-his-life guy who yelled at us to stop being so happy and stop lounging like it was our own house (never mind we had been waiting for 6 hours), everyone seemed very laidback. When I finally got to see an official around noon, she was chatting lightly with her co-worker, cracking jokes, and deciding where she wanted to go to lunch. No wonder we had to wait so long.
It’s going to take me some time to fully understand and maybe even adapt the mentality here. I’ve already cut down my amount of “sticky notes” on my desktop from 4+ to one lonely note listing fun stuff I to do each week. My “to do” list has become more like a “maybe I’ll do these things if I feel like it.. sometime.. maybe” then a strict checklist. Maybe you should try it. You might be surprised by how much you like it ☺
Anywhere else, 6 hours in a waiting room would seem like eternity, but I found it rather interesting. Between reading, chatting with other students, and going on coffee breaks, I studied the others in the waiting room. People from all over the world waited patiently for an attendant to examine their documents and fingerprint them. They all seemed prepared for the wait and no one seemed rushed to get out. Unlike in the US, people were not complaining, talking loudly on cell phones, or diligently working from a laptop or smart phone. In fact, they seemed rather relaxed.
We chatted with an Egyptian cage fighter who is training in Brazil for 6 months, and joked around with the fingerprint guy who told us “his wife would be upset if he knew he got to hold hands with all these pretty girls in one day.” Besides the expected one cranky, overweight, hating-his-life guy who yelled at us to stop being so happy and stop lounging like it was our own house (never mind we had been waiting for 6 hours), everyone seemed very laidback. When I finally got to see an official around noon, she was chatting lightly with her co-worker, cracking jokes, and deciding where she wanted to go to lunch. No wonder we had to wait so long.
It’s going to take me some time to fully understand and maybe even adapt the mentality here. I’ve already cut down my amount of “sticky notes” on my desktop from 4+ to one lonely note listing fun stuff I to do each week. My “to do” list has become more like a “maybe I’ll do these things if I feel like it.. sometime.. maybe” then a strict checklist. Maybe you should try it. You might be surprised by how much you like it ☺
January 21, 2010
It's so hard to study while "studying" abroad...
I love going to a Catholic University. Wednesday was São Sebastião Day so we didn’t have class. Of course, we used this free day to beach it up hardcore. We hopped a bus 20 minutes south to Barra de Tijuca. This area is technically still in Rio, but you would never know it by the look of it. The gorgeous beach was very wide, clean, and had beautiful clear water. We passed a good chunk of the day taking naps in the shade and taking cool dips in the sea. The sun is so strong here that even after re-applying sunscreen three times and staying under an umbrella when not in the water, all of us still managed to get scorched.
Barra (pronounced baha) is considered the “Hollywood” of Rio. This is where many of the “new rich” people such as futébol stars, singers, and actors reside and it is also where they are beginning construction on facilities for the 2016 Rio de Janeiro Olympics! Although I didn’t get to explore the city part of this area, I definitely want to come back and learn about the Olympic plans. Everyone here is very excited and proud to host both the 2016 Olympics, and the 2014 World Cup. The country will be changing a lot within the next few years and I hope to get a feel for the city before and after the changes ☺ Below is an ad for the Olympics that is all over the city. It reads, "another future starts now."
The other day, I was reading a Brazilian paper and noticed a whole article dedicated to a NYT article about how Rio is cracking down on security before the Olympics. It read something like “the world is noticing our security efforts” and seemed rather proud to be mentioned in the NYT (with a inset picture of the NYT article). It’s funny how integrated America is in Brazilian life. Half of the programs on TV are in English and have voice over or subtitles. Many English words are used in the names of stores, food, or other products. Maybe they think English looks chic? Kind of like those people who get tattoos in Chinese or Arabic because they think it looks cool? I’m not sure if that’s the reason or not, but either way it’s hilarious to hear the different pronunciations.
My top 4 favorite English words in Portugûese:
1. Chic (pronounced and written “chique”). Gets me every time ☺
2. Picnic (pronounced “pick-e-nick-y”). Hilarious!
3. Hotdog (pronounced “hot-che-dog-y”). Also great.
4. Titanic (pronounced "chi-che-neek-y"). Seriously couldn't stop laughing...
Love it ☺
I also went on a very nice walk this evening to Lagoa, a lake just down the street from my apartment. It had just stormed heavily and the sun came out. It was gorgeous! We even saw parts of a rainbow!
I took the opportunity to take lots of pictures with the one and only.. Christ ;)
PS- Yes I actually am studying also. I gave a presentation on my hometown today in class and talked all about cornfields, the windmill farm, and my grandparents Dairy farm. Tomorrow I have my first test! Although this intensive language month is not technically for a grade, if you don’t “pass” you can’t take the next level during the semester. I better get studying!
Barra (pronounced baha) is considered the “Hollywood” of Rio. This is where many of the “new rich” people such as futébol stars, singers, and actors reside and it is also where they are beginning construction on facilities for the 2016 Rio de Janeiro Olympics! Although I didn’t get to explore the city part of this area, I definitely want to come back and learn about the Olympic plans. Everyone here is very excited and proud to host both the 2016 Olympics, and the 2014 World Cup. The country will be changing a lot within the next few years and I hope to get a feel for the city before and after the changes ☺ Below is an ad for the Olympics that is all over the city. It reads, "another future starts now."
The other day, I was reading a Brazilian paper and noticed a whole article dedicated to a NYT article about how Rio is cracking down on security before the Olympics. It read something like “the world is noticing our security efforts” and seemed rather proud to be mentioned in the NYT (with a inset picture of the NYT article). It’s funny how integrated America is in Brazilian life. Half of the programs on TV are in English and have voice over or subtitles. Many English words are used in the names of stores, food, or other products. Maybe they think English looks chic? Kind of like those people who get tattoos in Chinese or Arabic because they think it looks cool? I’m not sure if that’s the reason or not, but either way it’s hilarious to hear the different pronunciations.
My top 4 favorite English words in Portugûese:
1. Chic (pronounced and written “chique”). Gets me every time ☺
2. Picnic (pronounced “pick-e-nick-y”). Hilarious!
3. Hotdog (pronounced “hot-che-dog-y”). Also great.
4. Titanic (pronounced "chi-che-neek-y"). Seriously couldn't stop laughing...
Love it ☺
I also went on a very nice walk this evening to Lagoa, a lake just down the street from my apartment. It had just stormed heavily and the sun came out. It was gorgeous! We even saw parts of a rainbow!
I took the opportunity to take lots of pictures with the one and only.. Christ ;)
PS- Yes I actually am studying also. I gave a presentation on my hometown today in class and talked all about cornfields, the windmill farm, and my grandparents Dairy farm. Tomorrow I have my first test! Although this intensive language month is not technically for a grade, if you don’t “pass” you can’t take the next level during the semester. I better get studying!
January 19, 2010
Faux Pas
Let’s just say that hypothetically, if you were to tell someone you were “muito barata” it does not mean drunk. It means cheap. Not that I’m speaking from experience or anything :/
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