Christo again...he doesn't really leave the Southern zone alone!
It's been a good week. I have lots of lovely moments to share and to think back upon from this week, and none of them involved the beach! I don't know how to connect them all into a theme, so let's just call the theme my life and let the anecdotes stand on their own.
I went to a short film festival at one of the many cultural centers (every big company or extension government seems to have their own cultural center. This film event was at the Postal Service's enourmous one, where they are also randomly showing an exhibit of Keith Herring). Some of the films were too artsy for me, and they spoke too much Português. In front of me, a very smelly skinny very old man sat with his friend, wearing funny formal/cowboy clothes. I liked two films, one about the fanatical football fans of the geral section at Maracana stadium ("Maracanã na geral" on youtube), and one about a musician. The film about the musician was sad or bittersweet, and told the story of a young man who loved to tap dance in the gay olden days of WWII. Now, this man was old, living alone in the basement of what looked like a crack house in Rio. One day, during carnival, he puts on his top hat and tails and tap dances in the confetti in an empty ball-room, alone after the party has already ended, and he is happy. At the end of this film, the smelly old old man in front of me began to cry. He turned around and looked at the crowd, seeking recognition from someone, and his friend comforted him and shouted, "It is him!" We, the small audience, applauded as loudly as we could, and the old man continued to cry. It was too much: I cried too.
On Tuesday, I met with my friend Renato for our sporadic language exchange meeting. He told me about his trip to the Amazon region. He saw the famous pink dolphins, and one day he took a solitary walk and a school of fish passed him (I just thought that this was a lovely thing to notice...I've never paid attention to a school of fish passing me in a river). His friend has stayed beyond him, and now he's worried about her, because she fell in love with two guys and lives on an island with one of them, the pousada where they stayed burned to the ground, and she keeps missing the weekly boat out of there. Renato feels sad because the beautiful, idyllic place he experienced has now changed in his mind with the experiences of his friend. He told me these things as we sat on a big rock island between Impanema and Copacabana, watching the fishermen reel in tons of red and silver fish. Renato said that he had never seen a fish caught in Rio, but on this day every man who threw a many-hooked line in pulled it out again jumping and shining with fish. The red fish looked especially beautiful against the clean ocean, with the sun setting beyond it all.
That same day, I went to my favorite bar, Baro do Rato. This is where they have a Ronda da Samba every week, and it's just a nice place, blocked off from the Halloween streets of Lapa by stacked beer crates. This week, I stood right by the musicians and watched them play...a girl played pandeiro for a few songs, and the other musicians were having fun, despite the sweaty heat (yay!). Then, guess what happened? The roof caught on fire! And guess what everyone did? Nothing! The musicians kept playing (although a few of them did look a little concerned), and everyone else kept dancing, so I did too, with one eye on the smoke, just in case. It was a perfect opportunity to sing "The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire, we don't need no water let the mother-f***er burn!", and I did, but secretly to myself because I don't think anyone else would've got it.
Inside the train...unusually empty, though...(one day before operation Complexo Alemão, and I was wondering why the train was vacant).
Yesterday, I actually planned an ok English lesson (involving Beyoncé), and after the class we sat around and had a kind of ladies-club. No one seemed to want to leave, so me and my three students sat in there for quite a while, chatting away. It was nice. Then, Neuza invited me out for a beer to talk about men, but really what we talked about was her religion, Candumblé, and her NGO and the energy of everything. I really admire this woman, she is extreamly tolerant and kind and honest. So...we sat there for 5 hours! Many pleasant people passed through the conversation: the bar lady, the young guys, the old guys, a billion children, a few dogs and two cats. Then came Mr. Annoying, in his red and black Flamengo stripes. He was so nervous, just humming with tension and a desire to be liked. I am not so tolerant, I can't stand these types of people! He kept saying "With all due respect, I would really like you guys to come to my house and drink beer." Ha. With all due respect, no way. Then, Neuza wanted to use him to demonstrate something or teach me something, so she asked me to look at him ("without using your eyes") and say whether he was happy or not. Well, I didn't feel comfortable saying that I didn't think he seemed happy, so I just said he was acting really nervous and he could relax. Then he started crying and said he wasn't happy and he was all alone. Ahhhh...it was weird. But he was back to his crazy hyper self within a few seconds, asking us with all of his respect to go to his house. And I continued to be rude. Oh, well, I'm not a saint.
My train
Then I slept on the floor of my "classroom", woke up early, and experienced rush hour traffic on the old creaky train! As I travel counter-flux to my Englsh classes, I've always seem the rush hour from the other side of the platform, elbows and hands pressed up against the windows of the train as more people squeeze in. Well, I got to be in the squeeze today, and after my initial anoyance, I realized that it's quite comfortable! You don't have to hold onto anything, despite the fact that the train's shocks are so bad that the bumps actually lift you up off the ground. The crowd just holds you up. The only time I had to hold on was when I was by the doors. The guy next to me held them open with his hands and, well, we traveled a couple stops like that, hanging out of the train door. Scary but super cool! I don't plan on doing this again, though.
The scary alien guy who stands in the door, and the campaign against him..."he's not one of us!"
Annnd...I saw Vin Diesel. Not that exciting, but kind of funny, right? Oh, and I climbed up to the famous Christ stautue, but when we got the top we found out you have to pay to see the view/front of Christ, and you can only pay at the bottom. So I only saw Christ's bunda. The walk itself was worth it, though.
Christ's view...Impanema, Lagoa e Leblon
And I went on a few dates :) I think that's it! Beijos!
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