The dilemma of raising children in Brazil

Write on the board the word MORALS
They stole the chalk, teacher!

I'm a little behind, but this article was circulating Facebook a while back:

http://veja.abril.com.br/noticia/educacao/o-dilema-da-criacao-dos-filhos-a-etica-compensa

Now I can't say I've "studied" the article, nor that my quick scan of it has allowed me to fully understand the depth of the issue.  But I can say that I think I get the main idea, which is that Brazilian parents face a significant challenge while trying to raise their children.  Parents want to (and have the responsibility to) teach their children values, but they are doing so within a country where the "Lei de Gerson" (take advantage of everything and everyone whenever you can).  Essentially, those of us living in Brazil know that you really have to be looking out for number one here, because it really is a dog-eat-dog world.  The expectation is that others will take advantage of you.  They will take your son's stuffed animal one minute after it falls out of his bedroom window (true story, unfortunately).  Salespeople will over charge you for inferior products.  Those trying to buy a car will try to falsify documents (hence, the elaborate laws around verification and the existence of Cartorios).   They will throw trash in front of your apartment.  Elected officials steal money without shame.  Now, I realize that I'm speaking in generalizations, and there are exceptions, and there are many, many Brazilian citizens who are making the hard choices to be think of others before thinking of themselves.  But the article interviews parents who are afraid that if they teach their children morals, if they teach their children to obey laws, to follow the rules, to be honest, that their children will fall behind.  Parents fear that their children will be taken advantage of if they don't learn how to operate within the reality of the society.  So which is better, to uphold a higher morality, or to teach your children to be shrewd and successful within a culture of corruption?

As a foreigner with children, and as a teacher working in a school, I find this a particularly interesting challenge, and a cultural issue.  I'm not trying to make a value judgement here (I could, but I will avoid).  But I think that we face a difficult situation.  I want my children to grow up to be honest, responsible citizens who care for those around them.  And yet, we live in a culture where we are daily faced with a multitude of examples of dishonesty, irresponsibility, and a total lack of respect for others. How do I reconcile this?

And apparently the "levar vantagem" (take advantage of) came from this:

Museums: CCBB Belo Horizonte and Escher at Palacio das Artes

My husband and I had the chance to see the exhibit ELLES:  Mulheres artistas na coleção do Centro Pompidou (ELLES:  Women Artists from the Centre Pompidou, Paris).  It was the opening exhibit for the new Banco do Brasil Centro Cultural in Belo Horizonte.  The museum itself is nice; the Banco do Brasil updated one of the old, historic buildings in the Praça Liberdade.  But the structure seemed a little cold and basic to me.  Nothing spectacular.  I don't want to be a downer, because they did remodel it, and it is nice.  It's just not super nice.

But the exhibit was AMAZING!  The exhibit started in Paris, and then went to Seattle, and was here in Belo Horizonte.  The exhibit "tells" the story of modern/contemporary art through the work of women artists.  My favorite pieces were by Suzanne Valadon, Guerrilla Girls, and Frida Kahlo.  The Kahlo was very small, but it was humbling to stand before a work by an artist that I admire so deeply.  The exhibit is over now, but it would be worth it to keep an eye on upcoming exhibitions.  Check it out here.

Dora and Sebastian 

The other exhibit that we visited is at the Palacio das Artes, called "A Magia de Escher" or "The Magic of Escher."  It is still showing until November 17th, and if you have a chance, you should check it out. It's a great compilation of works by M.C. Escher, very kid friendly, and very interactive.  And there are several parts that you are allowed, even encouraged to take pictures.  My math-loving kids loved the tessellations, optical illusions, and different perspectives.

I'll also mention that the newly remodeled Cine Theatro Brasil recently opened in downtown Belo Horizonte.  I haven't been yet, but it looks very nice.  I also just read that they are showing "Guerra e Paz" ("War and Peace") by Brazilian Artist Candido Portinari.  It is the last time it will be shown in Brazil before heading to Paris and then to return to the headquarters of the United Nations in New York, where the piece is permanently displayed.

Some great things are happening in the arts in Belo Horizonte!

Festa Junina

June is over, and so are most of the Festa Junina parties.  I've blogged about them before.  They are a big part of the culture, and a part of every school's calendar.  The party is a big deal at Maple Bear, and families tend to spend a lot of money on outfits, especially for the girls.  This is VERY different from the artsy-fartsy school we went to, where the children made their own costumes.  Since I'm a cheap "make it yourself" kind of person, I opted to create Beatrice and Sebastian's outfits.

Superagro 2013

at the John Deere tent

As I mentioned last post, we stuck around for the Corpus Christi holiday.  My friend Maxine told me I had to take the kids to the SuperAgro 2013 that started this week at Expominas, so I did.  SuperAgro is a big agricultural exposition that happens annually in Belo Horizonte.  It's kind of like a Brazilian equivalent of the American country fair experience, minus the rides and fried food.  Minas Gerais has lots of farms, and even a "country-farm" kind of culture (even in the big city!), so I knew this kind of thing would be interesting.

We didn't want to get too close...

There were hundreds, and hundreds, and hundreds of cows.  Cows with humps (the popular Zebu cows, that provide the cupim cut of meat that Brazilians love), baby cows, cows with huge horns, pooping cows, cows getting milked, and mad cows that didn't want their pictures taken.  The kids didn't want to talk much to the owners, but I did get in a brief conversation with one guy who told me that his prize winner produced 42 liters of milk a day.  42 Liters!!  If you wanted to wait in line, you could milk a cow, but my children were too impatient, and Dora didn't like the smell (surprise, surprise).

There were also lots of stalls with horses, and an arena where you could ride a horse (not sure if it was free or, if you had to pay).

We saved the petting zoo for last.  The line looked huge, but it was pretty well organized, so we only really had to wait about 20 minutes for a 5 minute visit.  There were llamas, goats, pygmy goats, sheep, buffalo, calves and one foal.  The kids loved it!

It's free during the first week!  After today, it's R$20 for admission.  Parking was advertised as R$8, but it ended up being R$8 an hour (rip off!).  So in my opinion, it's worth it to go the first week.  But I wouldn't pay admission.

Memorial Minas Gerais Vale

It's the Corpus Christi holiday, so it means a four day weekend.  I was hoping to get out of the city for at least one day, but it wasn't to be. Dora informed me earlier in the week that she had a HUGE group project for school that she had to work on, and it had to be on Friday and Saturday, which just so happened to be the only days that I could really go.  Boo.  I really need to get out of town soon because   I'm starting to feel a little crazy with the noise and traffic and city-ness of it all.

But instead I went with a group from Minas International to the Memorial Minas Gerais Vale.  It's a museum funded by Vale (HUGE mining company in our state).  It's one of the many beautiful historic buildings that surround the Praça Liberdade.  I took an easy bus ride with the the 2 younger kids while Dora was at her study group.  We hung out in the Praça for a while, and then hit the Museum.  

My kids were honestly not too keen on visiting a museum on a Saturday afternoon, but by the end they didn't want to leave!  It's a great museum for kids:  very interactive, lots of videos presented in interesting ways, music to listen to and screens to touch.  There are three floors (stairs only, didn't see if it has an elevator), and 18 rooms in total.  Each room has a different theme, sharing some aspect of history, art, or culture of Minas Gerais (our state).  My favorite rooms where Vale do Jequitinhonha, that was full of folk art from the area known as Jequitinhonha and the Fazenda Mineira that had hundreds of items that are (or have been) traditionally used on farms in Minas Gerais, and they were all attached to the walls and ceilings.  Fun! The kids loved the Povo Mineiro, which was a video (projected on a huge hand statue, and 3 huge head statues!) about the diversity found in Minas Gerais

Everything is in Portuguese, so unless you have a really good English speaking guide it's not really worth it for non-Portuguese speakers. They do have guides, and ours spoke good English, but she didn't do a very good job at explaining things in an interesting way (in my opinion).  But the kids didn't want to leave after almost 2 hours, so that to me says that Memorial Minas Gerais Vale is worth a visit. 

Reflections on culture: School Performances

I realize that many of my recent posts have been rather on the "fluff" side.  So I thought I'd venture into the subject of culture.  I realize this is a rather larger topic, with potential to irritate readers.  But I feel a bit irritated, so you can join me.  I'm going to focus in on what I've perceived as one cultural expectation that I have perceived in Brazilian private schools.  Here we go.

As y'all know, I'm a music teacher at a Brazilian private school.  I teach in English (thank God!  Can you imagine the mess it would be if I were to teach in Portuguese??!)  I love my job, and I love the opportunity to influence students, to enjoy music with them, and even sometimes hear them say "that was fun!" or "I learned something!"  One thing I DO NOT like about my job are the performances.  After 3 years of wanting to pull my hair out from the frustration that I experience with these performances, I finally this week realized that it may have something to do with Brazilian culture and expectations.  As an American (and as a parent and educator), I do expect that my children would participate in some kind of performance at their school.  My expectation for preschoolers (age 3 to 5) is that they would hopefully be able to stand in front of a small group of parents and family members and just do something.  Clap.  Move some body part.  Shimmy or shake.  MAYBE move their mouth and have some kind of sound come out.  But for me, just seeing them doing something is enough.  Since I am American (and a parent and educator), I bring these expectations with me to my job here in Brazil.  My first year teaching, I was asked to help the Kindergarten class prepare for their graduation.  Naively, I agreed, making the assumption that it would be a cute little song with some motions performed for the families.  Boy, was I wrong.  I should have known by the professional invitations, professional memory books, and tailored caps and gowns. 

My culture says school performance 

= 

educational, enjoyable for the children, simple

Brazil private school culture says school performance 

=  

ESPECTÁCULO and SHOW.  

School performances (from my perspective) in Brazil are not really about the children.  They are about pleasing the parents (after all, who is paying the bill).  And parents want to see their kids singing and dancing.  Even though their 3 year old doesn't speak in complete sentences and will only obey when bribed with cookies, somehow the expectation is that their little João Felipe Pedro II is going to be AMAZING.  There will be live music! There will be props!  There will be elaborate choreography!  

Obviously, I can't get on board with this.  For 2 years, my mantra has been "developmentally appropriate."  It's not "developmentally appropriate" to expect a preschooler to perform in front of a group of 500+ strangers.  It's not "developmentally appropriate" for young children to be able to sing songs written for adults.  It's not developmentally appropriate for preschoolers to sing and dance simultaneously.  But all my talking has been for nothing.  Because I'm dealing with culture. It is part of the culture to have/value/participate in "shows."  It's part of the culture that celebratory events would be extravagant.  And it's especially part of the culture that you plan for something WAY bigger than you can pull off, with the hopes that it would miraculously come together (and often times, it does!)  All this didn't become crystal clear to me until I had the chance to speak briefly with a Canadian education specialist that has been visiting the schools.  She shared about this same phenomena occurring at other Maple Bear schools in Brazil, and how she has finally had to realize that these expectations are part of the culture.  And even if the expectations are crazy and developmentally inappropriate, they are culture.  We North-Americans working in Brazil can't expect research and logic to trump culture.  I suppose it would be like a Brazilian going to the US and scheduling a major test for 2nd graders on November 1st.  It might be the best time to give a test, the children might be ready, and it might be convenient.  But there's no way that any parent would deny their child the chance to participate in Trick-or-Treating or a Harvest Festival or whatever celebration your family enjoys on October 31st.  

So, here I am.  I'm trying to figure out how to operate within this culture that I have chosen to live in. By no means do I want to try to whip these little 4 year-olds in to shape so they can be singing like Mary Poppins.  And by no means do I want to work myself to the bone in the next month.   I haven't quite figured out how to merge these two cultures, so right now I'm just hanging out in the clash.  But I'll keep you posted.  

Dia do Saci

Happy Halloween! 

My favorite part of yesterday was helping my son make a zombie costume that he can wear to school today.  Ripping up and old shirt and an old pair of pants is so strangely satisfying.  Then we poured red food coloring on it (Brazilian red food coloring is remarkably blood-like).  It wasn't until I was finished making the costume that I realized that my son would NEVER be allowed to wear something like that to school in the US.  Too violent, gruesome, etcetera.  And that's what I think that many Brazilians think about when they think of Halloween:  dressing up as ghosts/witches/goblins/zombies/mummies.  They don't realize that the whole point of Halloween is


THE CANDY!

Just in the 3 years that I've been in Brazil, I've noticed an increasing amount of recognition of Halloween.  Lojas Americanas sells Halloween costumes now, and I've even heard that there are some large apartment buildings in Belvedere that actually have trick-or-treating. 



But I also just found out that today is Dia do Saci. Saci (pronounced sauc-EEE) is a character from folklore that is considered an annoying prankster, that can be blamed for missing items, small problems, and generally causing trouble.  He only has one leg, and he smokes a pipe and wears a red hat.  From what I've heard, he can also be used by parents to threatened children, as in "if you don't clean up your room, Saci will hide your toys..."  You can read more about him here.

Back in 2004, a law was passed to recognize October 31st as "Dia do Saci" in Brazil.  The hope was that giving Saci his own day will help combat the influence of Halloween (that is in no way Brazilian) and celebrate Brazilian Folklore.  I'm not so sure that this law has been all that successful, but my youngest daughter is happy because she gets to dress up as a butterfly and go to school today. 

Despedida

No, we're not leaving Brazil.  No plans to do so.  Days when I want to, but we are fully here.  Friends, work, and now we're thinking about moving to another apartment in Belo Horizonte.  We're here.

But I've been thinking about the "despedida" or "farewell" recently.  We went to a birthday party a few weekends back.  It was very nice:  about an hour outside of the city, at the family "cabin," lots of kids and bikes and a swimming pool.  The invitation said that the party was between 10 am and 3 pm.  For various reasons, we didn't even arrive at the party until 1:30 pm.  We ate, played, walked around the lake, and at about 5:00 pm it was birthday cake time (yes, that was a full 2 hours after the "end" of the party).  It's winter here, so the sun goes down at about 5:45 pm.  I had driven the Fusca (VW Bug), and even though I had another passenger that was going back with me who knew Belo Horizonte like the back of her hand, I didn't feel so comfortable with driving in the dark in an unfamiliar neighborhood.  So at 5:15 I started telling my kids and fellow passengers that I would like to leave.  I knew that nobody was happy that I was leaving (the hosts, the other passenger and her daughter),  but I also knew that if I didn't do a little pushing, we weren't going to leave until 9 pm.  After 45 minutes, and making the rounds to say goodbye to everyone and their grandpa, we left.  And we made it back safe and sound.  And I was only mildly annoyed by the long, drawn out departure. 

That's how departures are in Brazil.  No one really wants to leave the party, the restaurant, the Sunday afternoon lunch.  So Brazilians linger, have one more saideira (that last drink before you leave), tell the kids you are really going to go in 5 minutes for the 7th time.   The hosts complain and say that you just got there (5 hours ago), and convince you into staying for another 2 hours.  This is one thing that I still have not learned to adapt to in Brazil.  I'm just so dang American.  When it's time to go, it's time to go.  I don't like to do this meandering, in between, hanging out thing.  And I especially don't like it when my kids make it harder for me to leave.  I have to confess that I've resorted on occasions to bribing my children, especially the youngest in regards to departure time.  "Beatrice, if you are a good girl when we leave I will give you candy."  Ug.  But I've realized that it's hardest for her.  She's American, because we are.  But she's celebrated more birthdays in Brazil than she has in the US.  She loves the prolonged despedida. 

For example, about 2 months ago I decided to pick her up from school and walk back home rather than drive.  Leaving school was no problem, and I told her that we were going to eat dinner at the padaria (bakery) on the way home.  A little special mommy/daughter time.  After we left the padaria, we saw her best friend from school.  Shrieking and jumping ensue.  Best friend's mom offers to give us a ride home (even though it was totally out of her way, and it would take longer to drive than to walk).  I politely decline but the best friends protest loudly so the mom convinces me to get in the car.  Ok.  She drives us home, and we were in the car a total of maybe 10 minutes.  I get out of the car, find my keys, and Beatrice tells me she has to say goodbye to her friend.  This involves a conversation, and Beatrice tries to make plans for a play date, and convince both mommies to let them play just a little bit.  I continue to try to get Bea out of the car, and finally after 5 minutes she gets out.  But then she won't let go of the car door, and she has to sing a song and tell a story and hug her friend again.  Finally I pry her from the door, and then the best friend is crying because she didn't get to say goodbye.  They roll down the window and Beatrice and best friend yell back and forth "goodbye!"  "good night!" until the car is a block away.  I proceed to pull my gray hair out as I drag my daughter to our apartment.

I felt so annoyed by this, but it wasn't until the birthday party that I realized that this is just the Brazilian part of Beatrice doing the normal Brazilian thing.  She isn't (always) trying to manipulate me, or be obnoxious, she's just doing what little kids do here when the love someone and they don't want them to leave or say goodbye.  It also made me realize that Brazilians must think I am SO rude and condescending.  What feels like a warm embrace and nice cheek kisses to say goodbye (which is much more that most Americans would do) must the coldest, rudest despedida that these Brazilians have ever encountered.  

And on that note, I'm going to end this post.  Coldly.  Abruptly.  :-)

...And how I've not become Brazilian

I  have changed.  And there are many things that I just haven't been able to do, and I'm not sure if I will ever really be able to accomplish.  I'm not saying that doing things of my list below "makes" someone Brazilian.  Nor am I saying that all Brazilians exhibit these kinds of behaviors.  But I speaking to my personal experience, and reflecting on situations when I realize that I do not "belong" here.  And with that, here's how I've not changed:

1.  I don't do my nails.  I would get pedicures in the states every once in a while, but I've never been a fingernail person.  I play guitar, I garden, I get my hands dirty.  I'm more of a person that sees my hands/fingers as a tool, and not a thing of beauty.  And I've been accused of having Fred Flinstone feet, and there isn't really much you can do to doll these stubby things up.

But I have to admit I was kind of excited before moving here about the idea of going to the local salon and getting pampered.  And then we moved here, and reality set in.  I realized that I'd have to hire someone to watch my kids so I could go and do that.  My husband offered one time, and I went and got a pedicure and a manicure.  And it hurt.  Really, REALLY bad!  They really dug into my cuticles and cleaned things up.  Ouch.  I know that many women believe that experiencing pain is just part of being beautiful, but I'm not one of them.

2.  I don't get things delivered.  I have never asked the bakery down the street (or our favorite bakery for that matter) to deliver bread.  I've never asked the grocery store or sacalão (fruit/veggie market) to deliver my order.  And I haven't even ordered pizza here (friends have come over and done it).  Part of it is that I'm cheap.  Part of it is that I (still) get nervous about making phone calls in Portuguese, especially those regarding specific instructions and time and money (numbers are hard).  And I think the biggest part of it is the American part of me that wants to do it myself and do it my way.  Or maybe that is just the Shelley party of me....

3.  I don't visit beauty salons nor have I had work done.  I have never had any of the following:  peeling, escova inteligente (I think this is the same things as a Brazilian blow out), laser, eyelash extensions, drenagem linfático (intense massage to rid your body of impurities), lightening, etcetera etcetera.  Getting pretty is big business in Brazil.  Heck, it's big business around the world.  But my informal survey of local business indicates that beauty salons and places to get beautified far outnumber bakeries.  Maybe that's why people in Brazil are thinner--there's more opportunity to get done up than to eat.

4.  I don't have my children's birthday parties at a "party place."  Renting a salão de festas will run you at least R$2000, and that's for a very basic party.  And in my experience, birthday parties at these kind of places really aren't about the kids.  They tend to be more about the parents and their ability to throw a great party.  It's kind of a status thing.  Because I'm not Brazilian, I just don't get how the status game works, and I know that even if I tried to pretend I was wealthy and had social graces oozing out of me it would come across as the "cold" American I am.  So we'll stick with sleep overs, family parties and snacks at school.

5.  I don't watch novelas (soap operas).  I'm not a big fan of TV.  I watch it because my husband likes it, but I can find many other things that I'd rather do.  I know that I'm missing out on a part of Brazilian culture, and an opportunity to practice my Portuguese.  But I just can't make myself do it.

6.  I don't know how to bargain.  I pay my fair share of the gringo tax.  We had dinner with some friends a few weeks back, and they were talking about just how good Mineira women are at bargaining.  She's married to an American, and she often will be at the store trying to buy something and she will send her husband away because she doesn't want to pay more because the American is in the room.  I sometimes will try, but even then I don't have the patience, finesse nor ability to form any kind of nuanced conversation ("me pay less, yes? This price too high, I find store there and it be less...").  I've just resigned myself to being taken advantage of.

7. I don't throw trash on the ground.  I carry around my candy wrappers, used kleenex, and I've walked blocks carrying an empty soda bottle until I find a trash can.  In our neighborhood, there are many "designated" places for trash (tree stumps, the base of a power pole, the little bit of grass that surrounds some plants).  But to me, it just looks like the ground.  I've caught my kids throwing trash on the ground, and I always make them go back and pick it up.  Just because everyone else is doing it doesn't mean that we are going to do it.

8.  I don't follow soccer.  I thought that when I lived here, I'd actually watch soccer games, and pay attention to what is happening with the number one sport in the whole entire world.  In our old apartment, I had the pleasure of hearing our neighbors have shouting matches before, during and after games (which I have learned take place on Wednesday and Sunday nights, and sometimes other days...).  But now I'm just oblivious.  I know who the two teams are in Belo Horizonte, and every once in a while I hear who has won or who is playing.  But for the most part, I'm absolutely clueless.  I still would like to go to a live soccer game someday, but there's this thing called the World Cup and there's this crazy situation with all the stadiums being built/remodeled...

9.  I don't let someone else do it.  A lot of Brazilian working moms take advantage of the opportunities that exist here to let someone else help you out.  It makes sense to me.  If you are working full time, how can you have time to go grocery shopping and cook for your family?  How do you have time to do all the laundry?  To help kids with their homework and take them to their school events?  Where's the time to take little João to soccer practice, and Maria Clara Julia to ballet class?  And also take care of yourself (see #1 and #3)?  Most women with the means hire help for the house, nannies, drivers to take their kids to school/music lessons, buy the kids snacks through the schools (that hire bakeries to make deliver healthy fried snacks, cookies and sugary juices....real healthy...) and eat out (or do #2).  I have a great job, that allows me to work mostly part-time, and work while  my kids are in school.  That means that I can be with them, go pick out my own fruit and vegetables at the store, cook for them, and make things like homemade cornbread, apple muffins and  bread for their school snacks.  And I wash their clothes myself.  And I want to do this.  I like it.  I think it's part of who I am (kind of earth mama, granola mommy) and it's that darn American guilt about having someone else do the work that I should be able to do because I should be able to do it all because I'm superwoman independence. 

10.  I don't do Brazilian clothes.  First of all, I'm cheap.  Secondly, I'm cheap.  And thirdly, I can stock up on good quality used and new clothes on trips to the US.  I've bought some clothes here, for myself and for my kids.  But I have such a hard time paying so much money, and for things that unfortunately don't last very long.  As a result, we don't look very Brazilian and we're not always very fashionable.  But then again, Brazilian fashion is different.  I will say that I've become a little bolder in my tastes since moving here, but I still don't think I can pull of heels, blouses with only one sleeve, jumpsuits, and backless shirts. 

How I've become Brazilian

Moving to another country requires adapting.  I was thinking the other day about how I've changed since moving here, and I thought I'd share about some of the ways that I've become "Brazilian" in the past 2 years.

1.  I don't feel like lunch (the main meal of the day) is complete without beans and rice.  I really like almoço.  I like to eat a big meal in the middle of the day.  It feels healthier to me, and I've grown to really, really like my beans and rice.

2.  I don't have a problem any more with motorcycles whizzing past me while driving.  And I have no problem crowding the other cars out as I "merge" at the stoplight.  Or create my own lane at the stop light.  I have no problem with that.

3.  I buy pão de sal every day at the bakery.  We eat these little crusty rolls for breakfast, as a snack, or with hotdogs or sandwiches for "dinner."  They are a staple in our household.

4.  I've learned to be more relaxed with time.  We left our house 15 minutes after the birthday party started (the one I mentioned last post).  We arrived 45 minutes after it started, and WE WERE NOT THE FIRST ONES THERE!   I think that was a first for me!

5.  I scrubbed my daughter's flip-flops before she went to her (Brazilian) friend's house the other day.  Why?  a) Clean shoes/feet/socks/flip flops are just assumed here.  b) It's "wrong" to let a child go barefoot inside, because walking barefoot on the tile will give them a cold.

6.  I socialized with the personal banker today.  I've learned that it's way too American to just jump right to the point of your meeting.  So often I'm internally freaking out prior to an interaction, trying to think about how to say basic things in Portuguese, and I get nervous and just try to say what I want right away.  But I'm' gradually learning that you have to ease into these things.  First, I need to ask about the family.  How is your child?  It's a girl right?  How is she?  How is school?  And how was your vacation?  And the weather?  And of course, the other person is going to ask you about your husband's work, your work, your Portuguese, what you think about Brazil, how long you've lived here, and so on and so on. 

7.  I've learned how to celebrate.  Most American birthday parties are about 2 or 3 hours.  Heck, 3 hours might be long.  An American wedding?  The ceremony and reception might be 4 hours, if it's at night and you know the couple well.  NOT SO IN BRAZIL!  I've been to lunches that have lasted 6 hours.  And we were the first to leave.  I've finally come to the point where I know that when we go to a churrasco (BBQ), birthday party, lunch, etcetera, we are going to be there for a while.  You have to get relaxed, linger, talk and talk and then talk some more.  I told a co-worker last week that American's unfortunately don't know how to have parties.  Brazilians know how to party.  Just take a look at the sheer number of party supply stores, salão de festas (places to rent to hold your big party), catering companies, cake vendors, party entertainers, salons to get your nails/hair/makeup done for parties, party dress stores, etcetera, etcetera.  And that's just for the kids (i.e. weddings is a whole other business...)

8. The Female Brazilian (Mineira?) Lilt.  I sometimes catch myself speaking English like I hear Brazilian women speak.  It's almost like singing, a bit whiny, in the higher range.  And I hear my 5 year old speaking like this all the time.  Sorry, I don't have a visual nor a video for this.  Anyone else out there know what I'm talking about?

9. I open the window every time I get into the car/bus.  It doesn't matter if it's raining, if it's cold, or if I'm right next to a big truck blowing fumes right in my face.  When we were in the states, my youngest kept asking to open the window in my parent's car.  In Washington state.  In the dead of winter.  She just couldn't understand why we wouldn't open the windows.

10.  I spontaneously say "nossa" (pronounced NO--sah) when I'm surprised.  Short for "Nossa Senhora," which I would translate as "jeeze," or "oh my god."  When I see a woman wearing 4 inch heels walking up a steep hill.  When I find out how much the bill will be at the restaurant.  When a child at school does something cute.  When the bus sits at a bus stop for 5 minutes because so many people are trying to crowd on and the bus driver won't go because there are too many people hanging out the door. 

I realize that most of these things are life changing, but they are certainly things I was NOT doing 2 years ago.  And if you want to read about a fellow-blogger who is trying to "become Brazilian" every day this year, check out Born Again Brazilian. 

paranoia and the expat

Ay.  What a day.  Actually, a week.  Here's the story.


I work one day a week at a campus that is about a 40 minute drive outside the city.  Last year I started the year by driving, but quickly realized that the roads were sooooo crappy (think big trucks, heavy rains, and minimal road repair) that it was not worth adding more grey hairs to my head.  I was able to carpool with a group of teachers.  But this year, for various reasons, the carpool doesn't really exist.  At least a convenient carpool.  So I've been trying to figure out how to get to work without spending too much time (taking the bus) or without going thru too much hassle to meet up with other teachers to get to work.  Each week there are always various factors that affect my decisions regarding transportation.  And I'll admit, I've driven a few times.




A week and a half ago,  I drove.  I was having a great time, belting out "All We Need is Love" by the Beatles, puttering along in my VW Beetle.  Feeling so 1973.  And then I heard a VERY loud noise.  I was almost on the exit for the school, so I kept driving, but midway thru the exit I realized that I had a flat tire.  I almost freaked out right then and there, thinking "I AM IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY WITH A FLAT TIRE, 40 MINUTES FROM REAL CIVILIZATION."  But I was able to calm myself down, pull over, and start changing the tire.  Granted, I haven't changed a tire in almost 20 years, but darn it all, I was going to try.  And I actually got the car jacked up pretty good (like, on the jack, not messed up).  But thankfully a very kind man named Julio stopped and took over.  He changed my tire and also managed to make me feel very wonderful about being a) a teacher b) a native English speaker and c) someone who can play the guitar.  Wow, thanks Julio for changing my tire and giving me an ego boost!  The spare was a little low, so I drove to the nearest gas station to fill it up.  The guy at the gas station told me that my spare had a leak.  He filled up the spare to 30 psi (even thought I was pretty sure that I'd been told 24 was okay), and within 30 seconds it lost 2 psi.  He convinced me to leave the car there so that I could come back after work, refill the tire (that would be flat by that time) and drive to the closest tire repair shop.  I then walked to school, and even managed to make it to class ON TIME.  Yes, I am that awesome.

After work, I walk back to the gas station, and what do you know?  The spare tire is NOT flat.  He insists on refilling it up, and of course it loses 2 psi in 30 seconds, and at that point I was pretty sure that he really knew nothing about tires, and I'm just thankful that he didn't blow up my remaining tires!  I made it back to BH, picked up the kids from school and got home.   I then got the chance to look closely at the tire, and saw that I had hit something pretty serious, and ripped a big hole in the tire.  But I had to at least try to see if it could be repaired.

I went to the neighborhood tire repair shop, and was kindly informed it was a lost cause.  Then began my search for a good price on tires.  I went back to the place where we had purchased 2 new tires back when we bought the car, and the prices had gone up almost R$50 a tire!!!  I called around, but found pretty much the same price.  And of course, because the tires were used (not that much, but enough to count), I had to buy 2 new tires instead of just one.  This stupid drive to work was starting to get really REALLY expensive.

So I finally scheduled the time to get the new tires.  And that was today.  I took the car.  No problem.  The shop even called to tell me there was an issue with some machine and my car would be ready later than they had told me (that NEVER happens!  Usually I have to call the shop and harass them to find out when my car will be ready).  Finally, they call and say everything is ready.  I went to pick up the car, pay my hefty bill and leave.  But then I realized that I'd forgotten to check the spare, and make sure that they'd traded the old tire with the hole for the old "good" tire.  I pulled over a block away from the shop, and saw the old, holey tire.  So I went back and explain what I need.  And then this guy shows up holding a tube, and says that the tube has a hole so they can't give me a good spare.  But what happened to my two good tires?  The old tires that you just took off?  I went back and forth between the secretary and the grease monkey and I just didn't get it.  At that point, I should have called my husband to get his help with Portuguese and even to help me think rationally here.  The grease monkey said he would see if he could get a new tube and they would call me.  And I drove away.  And I felt this increasing sense of dread.  How was is that I drove into the shop with 4 decent tires, but then bought 2 new tires and drove away with only 4 good tires?  I should have gone back to the shop and tried to clarify things.  But instead I went to the grocery and then home.  By then I was feeling really crappy.  So finally I told my husband, and of course he was mad that they had put a hole in the tube (that was the only conclusion I could come to based on what they were telling me) and we were going to have to pay for yet one more thing. 

He called the secretary to ask how they were going to fix this problem that they created, and she was really rude to him, and then he got really frustrated.  He said that he was not going to let them take advantage of us, and we had to go back there and figure out how they were going make this wrong right.  In the process of driving back, we found out that they had broken the handle on the driver's side door that had just been repaired.  I didn't notice it when I went to the store because I was so upset about the tire problem.  Ug.

We get to the shop, and the secretary is still trying to talk over my husband, and is not listening to anything he's saying.  Finally the manager comes out, and explains.  All the tires have tubes.  Old tires.  New tires.  They used the old tubes (which were still good) with the new tires.  They didn't make any holes in any tubes.  The grease monkey was talking about the repairing the tube in the tire that I had put a hole in.

Oh.

And he would fix the door handle.  He apologized about it, and was quite nice, even though we got all worked up about it.

So essentially I made a big mess of things by not understanding Portuguese.  And I realized, that we are still in the paranoia stage of being expats.  We still are very quick to assume that people are trying to trick us, take our money, and essentially use jeitinho to take advantage of us.  The blog that I linked to defines "jeitinho" as personal benefit or advantage that is detrimental to the benefit or advantage of others.  


It's tricky in Brazil, because jeitinho is alive and real.  Not a day goes by when I don't encounter it (either attempting to use it, or being it's "victim").  So it's easy to quickly jump to the conclusion that someone is trying to pull the wool over my eyes.  But there's also the reality that we are foreigners in a foreign land, with still a very limited understanding of social norms, culture, language and the many, many nuances of communication.  When I don't understand how something works, it's tempting to make a quick judgement that I'm being made fun of, and that my lack of understanding gives the person I'm interacting with full license to "get" me.  It's hard to be vulnerable.  It's hard not having the tools of language and culture.  It's hard to not understand.  And it's hard to live in a place where people can maneuver their way into benefits without following the rules (my rules?  North American rules?  Just who is making these rules...)  But somehow we've got to hold in balance the reality of jeitinho and our assumptions.   Like when it seems like someone is charging us too much for an inferior product.  Or convincing us to do something that we don't want.  Or giving us the raw end of a deal.  Hmmm....

But my moral to my story is, if I don't understand, keep asking until I do.  And maybe try not to jump to conclusions so quickly, and then drag my unsuspecting husband into the paranoia as well.

Uniforms

Uniforms are important in Brazil.   Almost all students wear school uniforms, and of course the teachers wear uniforms also.  Dora and Bea's school (Escola da Serra) does not require a uniform, and actually prides itself in the fact that they the students get to wear what they want and express themselves with their fashion choices.  When we first moved here, I thought "Great!  One less thing I have to spend money on."  Because, like most things in Brazil, school uniforms are pricey.  But the thing that I didn't really consider was that school uniforms are about the same price as clothing (jeans, shirts, etcetera), but it's okay if they don't look sparkling white, or if they get stained or little holes.  Because they are uniforms, and they are meant for those kind of things.  After a few months at their school, which is also known for it's great arts programs, I found that the children's clothes were taking a real beating.  Schools here love to have kids use Caneta Soft Point Ponta Porosa, and it stains their hands and their clothes like CRAZY.  And the sad thing is that it isn't permanent, meaning that the ink doesn't stay on books, plastic, pens, and other important things you want to label.

curse you, Caneta Ponta Porosa!

We lost several items of clothing to Caneta Soft Point Ponta Porosa. 

Then there was the roughhousing.  That cost Sebastian a few shirts (ripped).  Make-up day (stains on Bea's dresses, not to mention a rash to her sensitive skin).  The massive painting projects for various events.  The kids clothes looked pretty bad by the end of the school year. 

So I decided that 2012 was going to be different.  Sebastian has to wear a uniform at Maple Bear, so that was easy.  A little pricey up front, and we are still adding pieces to his wardrobe, but I already notice that his "nice" clothes are still looking nice.  Because he doesn't wear them to school!  Beatrice and Dora now have to wear school shirts to school, or old clothes.  We had purchased one school shirt for them for field trips, and from the various events (Semana Olimpica), they've built up a collection of school shirts.  I'm also noticing the different with them too!  Their school shirts look like junk, but the cute shirts that Grandma bought, and the nice dresses that we found for US$3 at Goodwill are looking great! 

And, I've broken down and I've now joined the ranks of the uniformed.  I requested that Maple Bear provide me with a shirt, and I got my own special ones:

Hi cute little Maple Bear, holding a Canadian flag!

oh yeah.

Not only do I get to save my clothes, but I get the respect of wearing the uniform.  I'm not just this random non-Portuguese speaking teacher that wanders around the school.  I am the music teacher.  I never would have gotten so excited about something like this in the states (I HATED uniforms, and never wanted to wear them unless I absolutely had to).  But here, it's part of the culture, and a way to get respect and be recognized.  And I'm liking it. 

Unfortunately, they only got me 100% polyester shirts.  This music teacher works up a sweat in my class, jumping, moving to music, handing out recorders, and generally just being busy trying to keep the kids under control.  And my classrooms tend to not be very well ventilated.  And now I'm wearing polyester.  I don't think my uniforms are going to smell very good for very long.

the saga of Transporte Escolar

I shared last year about our decision to move Sebastian to the school where I work.  Way back in September when I enrolled him, I asked the school's van driver if he could drive Sebastian.   School transportation is one of those realities that one has to deal with here.  If you have the ability, you send your kids to private schools.  But, private schools don't offer (free) transportation.  I wonder if free public transportation for school children is a phenomena unique to the United States.  So if you can't walk to school or take the kids yourself, you have to hire a van.

Most of the time, these vans are operated by people who are not associated with the schools.  In Belo Horizonte, you can go the BHTrans website and find companies that work with your child's school and service your neighborhood.  However, Sebastian's school has it's own van (kind of).  The owner's husband purchased a van, and he can be hired to pick up and drop off your child.  How convenient!  I already knew the guy, he knows the school, he's good with kids.  Great.

So, back in December, I talk to him, and he tells me that they are probably going to have to buy another van, but again he reassures me it's no problem.  This is when I should have been worried.  And it very well may have been that he was giving me some big, Brazilian clues (inferred, implied) that I should look into other options.  However, I'm not Brazilian.  And my Portuguese does not include inferences and subtle hints.  And Mineiros (Brazilians?!?) don't like to say no.  So I took him for his word.  He told me to contact him in January.  I got his email.  And like a good and responsible mom, I emailed him in January, assuming that it was still going to be "no problem." 

He mentioned that he needed to make another route, and he would be in touch with me.  Again, I should have seen the warning signs.  But at this point I was still in the states, and I didn't know what else I could do.

We returned to Brazil two days before school started, so I knew that I wasn't going to be able to figure this out for the first day.  I had already planned to drive to Sebastian to school (especially since I would be working there the first day).  After teaching, I searched out the van driver, and tried to get an answer from him.  And finally he was straight answer:  there wasn't room in the van.  They needed another van.  He didn't know when that was going to happen.  Then I started to panic--did he know anyone who could help me?  Any suggestions, and he said he would help.  At least as far as I could understand.

The next few days I probably made 50 different phone calls.  I called all the numbers on the BHTrans website.  I wrote down every number of every van I saw in the general vicinity of the school.  I called friends asking for help.  I talked to parents.  And all the while I was calling the van driver, asking for help.  No luck.  I also spent between 2 and 3 hours each day driving across town to get Sebastian to and from school.  Traffic has gotten worse.  It was not fun.

After a week and a half, the driver tells me that they have an opening in the evening, and he can take Sebastian home from school.  Great!  I asked when he thought he'd get Sebastian home.  "Oh, about 7:30 pm."  An hour after school is done.  Not great, but not bad.  Unfortunately it ended up taking almost 2 hours for Sebastian to get home.  We started getting worried, and Sebastian was miserable.  And I don't blame him:  who wants to spend that much time in a van?!

I spent another few hours making phone calls, and realized that we were going to have to go the route of a motorista (driver).  I'd heard other people talking about drivers, and always thought, "I'd never be one of those kind of people."  Well, never say never.  On Friday, I finally talked to a motorista that wasn't charging an arm and a leg, and said he was willing to do it.  So, hopefully tomorrow we'll be testing out this driver, and Sebastian and I will be riding across town in the comfort of someone else's car.

What have I learned from this?  Unfortunately, I think that I've learned that I need to be a little more careful in trusting promises.  I probably should have learned this based on the vazamento experience.  I also (again) have realized that I need to continue to work on my Portuguese.  I wish I could say that I've also realized that "it will all work out in the end," because it always does (by some miracle).  But in this case,  I just feel more frustrated than thankful that it has "worked out."  But, if it all does work out, I can feel good that I was able to make all those phone calls in Portuguese and actually be understood!

Carnaval in Belo Horizonte

Yes, I know.  Carnaval is "officially" over.  It is Ash Wednesday, and stores were back open today, and I even saw a few school vans driving around.  But I was so busy having fun, I didn't get around to posting until today.  Back when were were in the states (hard to believe, it really was only 2 1/2 weeks ago that we left), I briefly entertained the thought of heading to Rio for Carnaval.  But since we've never been, I thought I'd postpone that trip until we could all go together.  And from all that I understand, Carnaval in Rio isn't really for kids.  Then we were going to go to Campos Altos with a family from the kid's school, where they have a "traditional" small town Carnaval party (i.e. not historic city drunken craziness).  But we were a little late at making arrangements, and renting a car was more expensive than we had anticipated (duh, it's Carnaval).  So, we opted to stay at home in BH and make the most of it here.  And I have to say that I'm glad we did.  The Carnaval fun started for us last weekend.  We had a few friends over on Sunday for Indian food, and in the middle of the afternoon we heard and INCREDIBLY loud noise.  We convinced the kids to put their shoes on and go for a walk.  We walked out the front of our building, and there was a bloco passing by!  On our quiet little street!  It was the bloco for a bar that's around the corner from us, and it was really small, but it was my first bloco, so I loved it.  People were dressed up, singing and marching to music blaring from a car stereo.  We only walked about 200 feet with them, but it was fun to see it.  No pictures though, because we had to hurry out of the apartment to catch it.





On Thursday, the girls had their "grito de carnaval" at school.  They dressed up, brought confetti and serpentina (streamers) and celebrated at school.  There was a band to greet them when they arrived:

I didn't get to see them at school, because I had to take Sebastian to his school.  Which is a whole other blog post of itself.  But Matt didn't take any pictures of the butterfly (Beatrice) or of Dora, who had spent the night at a friends house and came to school covered in eye shadow, blush and lipstick.  I really wish he would have got a picture of that.  

Friday was the Carnaval fun day at Maple Bear.  I brought scarves, the kids dressed up and brought confetti and serpentina and we just danced and ran around.  Which is about normal for playground time.  But I had fun.

Saturday we invited some friends over for pizza and beer.  Yum!

Sunday we went to a friends house for churrasco (barbeque).   They made ribs, picanha, and tropeiro (a mix of beans, farofa, eggs, and other yummy things).  After we had been there for 5 hours, I was starting to get the kids ready to go, but the hostess told me I couldn't go because she hadn't made the cake yet!  Oops!  So we stayed for another hour and ate Rocambole, a rolled cake filled with dulce de leite (a thick creamy caramel-like sauce made from sweetened condensed milk).  

Laura and Bea

Kids watching a move

 

Beatrice got a hold of Marcio's camera and took this and many other pictures

Monday we went to another friends house for a Carnaval party.  We went to these same friends house last year for Carnaval, and I was AMAZED at the quantity of confetti that was thrown.  This year was no different.  Except that they held the party in their salão das festas (the apartment buildings "party room" that can be rented).  And I was stilled amazed by the amount of confetti.  Let's just say that there was confetti in my underwear, and I will be sweeping up confetti in our apartment for at least the next week.  We ate more ribs, lots of salgados, candy, sweets, chips, guacamole, cookies and danced and played and danced.  The kids swam and played video games.  And I had a LOT of fun. Unfortunately, no pictures.  We were too busy having fun to even pull the camera out.

On Tuesday,  we went to a bloco in Santa Tereza.  It was small and very short for Brazilian standards (only about an hour), but it was perfect for our tired American kids.  We just don't know how to party like Brazilians.  At least not yet.

My mom made me come

Me and Beatrice

Confetti

The skinny dancer

The not so skinny dancer

I loved the dancers in this bloco.  As my friend Corinne said (via FB), in BH you get to see the non-ripped, non-siliconed sambistas.  It was nice to see people looking like people, with normal bodies. 

And it was loud.  

But we had fun, thanks to our many friends here.  Now it's time to get back to work for my one day work week.  And then it's a weekend with at least one party.  Thanks Brazil!