My mother just said, "You had us worried when you started to be a marshmellow. We thought you were a steak, honey. You were acting all sticky...."

Any thoughts on what that is supposed to mean?

Oh procrastination! I’ve been trying to work on my paper and presentation for next week but I’m already falling asleep and it’s only 9:15 PM. My revised game plan is to update my blog and get an early start on homework tomorrow morning.

Friday morning I went for a run and met Bethany to go to Shopping Baja. She, Sonia and I decided that we wanted to go to Rio de Janeiro for our break between sessions. We went to a travel agency to buy our plane tickets because we were advised by our host families not to do any transactions online. We are leaving next Saturday (7/28) and returning the following Wednesday (8/1). We will be staying in a hostel where a friend of a friend works and touring the city. These girls that I am going with are smart and we’ve all agreed that we want to be in the hostel by dark fall each night. After we bought the tickets, Bethany and I ate lunch at Perini’s and managed to get a sandwich, a wrap, 2 fresh squeezed glasses of oranges juice, and a strawberry/chocolate/peanut crepe for the equivalent of $10. We had a restaurant coupon from the group excursion to Praia Forte left over because we split the tab last time, so we essentially ate for free.

In the afternoon we had an optional excursion to Cidade Baixa. We visited Forte Mont Serrat which is a fort overlooking a gorgeous beach, and the famed Igreja de Bom Fin which is a church where Mary is said to have appeared. The church was beautiful, though ornate. The most intriguing part was a room where lining all the walls were pictures and hanging from the ceiling were plastic legs, arms and heads. At first I had no idea what to think but I discovered that each picture or body part represented a request for healing. For example, if you hurt your arm at work you might have an arm hung there with your name on it, or if your loved one has died in a car accident you might add a plastic head or a picture in their memory. After walking around and looking at the pictures, the room struck me as quite beautiful. I confess that I found it border line grotesque at first, but I was won over by the faith and hope of the people whose prayers fill it.

To end the excursion we had ice-cream once again. I had a scoop of maracujá and mangaba, my official favorites.

Sonia, Bethany and I decided to see a dance performance that evening at a theater close to our house. The performance was entitled Desejo Fatiado or “shattered desire.” Going into it I knew that the topic matter would be intense because the pamphlet claimed that the dance enters into the question of what it is to exist and what it means to wait for a future that theoretically doesn’t exist. The stage was set with three glass cases filled with green apples and a wooden slab on top that served as a bench. The dancers were 5 men in tuxes and 2 women. I wish I could somehow convey to you the style of dancing, but the best I can say is that I had to keep telling myself throughout the performance to relax because I was getting so anxious. They used minimalist music and all the motions were abstract and violent. From what I gathered they were trapped, waiting. There was a section were a narrator came on in English but they spoke with such a heavy accent that I couldn’t understand anything except “cards” and “shuffle.” I think the message was essentially that life deals you cards that are outside of your control and that you can’t rely on anything. At the end a man at center stage sitting on a bench says vai (or “leave”) various times, each time progressively louder until he is shouting and the glass cases come open, spilling out the apples onto the stage. When we left the theater we stood outside for a good while discussing it before we headed home. It was a wonderful and thought provoking, though edgy performance.

When I got home Conchita and Isa invited me to watch Murder by Numbers dubbed over in Portuguese with them. That movie only increased my tension and anxiety, so by the time it was over all I wanted to do was sleep.

This morning I went with a group to the beach because all of the students going to São Paulo for the weekend are leaving Sunday. Sonia and I played Frisbee and I sat and wrote a draft for a couple e-mails that I had promised to write. (More replies coming soon!) Let me describe briefly what the beach scene is like. From the street level you walk down concrete steps to the beaches. As soon as you set foot on the sand, men and women renting out chairs and umbrellas will flock to you. You can rent a chair for $1 and an umbrella for $2.50 (USD). People rarely leave the beach without having at least one big green coconut filled with coconut water that you drink, then have it broken open so that you can scrape out the inside. There are also vendors of jewelry, swimsuit covers, and cheese dipped in oregano that they roast for you. The beaches in Barra aren’t continuous so when I want to run I have to run on the sidewalk on the street level. To play Frisbee Sonia and I went to one of the more rocky shores because fewer people like to go there.

When I got home and cleaned up Conchita showed me what one of the roots that we eat here looks like before it’s cooked and gave me a candy made of pure sugar cane to try. It is very popular in north-central Brazil where there is little food.

A few other quirky observations that I have failed to mention previously: When Brazilians talk about the past they snap their fingers, as if traveling back in time. They also don’t drink when they eat. (Have I mentioned this before?) They believe that drinking during meal time will make the food expand in your stomach so it is best to drink 2 hours before or after a meal. If any one is willing to research that, I’d be interested to know what doctors have to say.

Also, a correction. I said that the acarajé is made of corn, but it is actually made from black-eyed peas. Isa told me it was feijão or beans, but it looked much more like corn to me. Another dish that is typical of the region that I’ve had a few times is caruru which is okra and shrimp stew with ginger, pepper, and palm oil. It is a gooey, unattractive looking dish, but it’s pretty tasty once you get used to it.

Hello dearies. Another week down and I only have one more to go before I finish with the summer session. I apologize again for the delay in updates and e-mail replies. It has been another packed week, but I will try to catch-up over the weekend.

Tuesday the culture class was over gender in Brazilian society. A guest professor came in to direct the discussion and she started by having us comment on things that we had observed thus far. The commentaries went something like this:

-Brazilian guys are not subtle about checking you out. They will scan you up and down, blow kisses, and cat call shamelessly. You can observe this behavior even by boys of 7-8 years-old that haven’t even matured sexually. It is very much a societal-macho phenomena that is taught from childhood.

-If you are a girl walking on the street, don’t make eye-contact with any guys. Making eye contact means that you are giving them permission to approach you. Walk with your eyes down and don’t smile at strangers!

-Brazilian women are obsessed with being beautiful and skinny. They always dress to impress. I’ve yet to see a Brazilian that didn’t live on the street that didn’t have her nails done. The country has more plastic surgeries than any other country in the world. Bethany told me that her host mom confessed that the first things the moms do when they get their girls is call each other up and comment on their weight and how pretty they are. I’ve heard of girls who have been told flat out by their Brazilian family and friends that they should loose weight.

-Many of the host moms will encourage their student to go out, flirt, and make-out with Brazilians they meet. Kissing is seen as fun and harmless. You have someone that you’re dating in the US? What’s the problem? You’re in Brazil!

-Women here have low-income jobs. You never see a man on the street selling acarajé or doing housework.

After we finished discussing our observations, the professor gave us some more background information and statistics about gender inequalities.

-Brazil has among the highest rate of domestic violence in the world. 70% of women who are murdered are murdered by their husbands. Abuse is not viewed as a severe crime and many men literally get away with murder.

-There is a saying here that a man who is a man doesn’t cry. He doesn’t eat honey; he eats the bee. Parents will start out their son drinking at 7-8 years old because being able to drink is an important sign of masculinity.

-The average male has his first sexual relation at 13 years and the average girl at 14.5 years.

-There is a phenomenon called the wife-swap where men will divorce their wives and marry women ~15 years younger than him in the second marriage and ~25 years younger in the third marriage. Middle-aged woman always marry me older than them for several reasons, one being demographic. The ratio of males to females is 49:51 and a huge chunk of the male population dies between 18-35 years from risky behavior, leaving older women with few available males to choose from.

It was a fascinating discussion. I may take a class from the same professor during the full semester here to learn more.

Wednesday the class was over music with another guest professor. He was a practitioner of candomblé so he has a very spiritual relationship with the music. He explained to us about the different Indian, Portuguese, and African influences in the music. For example, the Indians viewed music as communal with the power to cure and vital to every part of life. The Europeans, in contract, had a much more individualistic view of music. Music belongs in the church and any talk about using it to heal is witchcraft and nonsense. The Africans brought drums, syncopation, and the same reverence for music seen by the Indians. The blend of the three made the Potuguese language and music today. If you have ever heard it spoken, Portuguese is a melodic language- it is a song in itself.

When the negros first came as slaves they didn’t have any instruments so using the body to produce noise (i.e. clapping, stompping, etc.) became fundamental to capoeira and candomblé. Next voice was added, followed by rhythm (drums), melody, harmony, and dance. We had a very interactive class and by the end we were all singing, dancing, drumming and harmonizing. We finished off the class by listening to some CDs that demonstrated the progression of Brazilian music.

Right after the culture class I went to the federal police to register with them (you are required to register if you stay in the country longer than 90 days). It took about 2.5 hours to get through the line, process my paperwork, and fingerprint me.

That afternoon after my language class we went to a Balé Foclórico in Pelorinho. (www.balefolcloricodabahia.com.br) According to the brochure it is the folk dance company that the New York Times considers to be the best in the world, and I must admit that I thought that it was incredible. They performed the traditional dances of the Orixás, a fire dane, the fishermen’s dance, maculelê, capoeira, and samba de roda. I would have enjoyed it as it was, but having studying most of the dances before I found it particularly interesting.

Today in culture we had class over the religions of Brazil. I learned that Catholicism has been declining since 1940 (from 95.2% to 73.8% of the population) and evangelicals have been on the rise (2.7% to 15.4%). The number of people who do not profess any religion is also on the rise (.2% to 7.3%). In Salvador itself the demographics are the following:

-9,837,905 catholics

-1,516,404 evangelicals

-96,303 spiritualists

-11,590 umbanda and candomblé

-1,707 jews

-18,499 of oriental religions

The point being that candomblé followers are a very small portion of the population but it has a strong presence in the city due to its ethnic importance.

He also told us that people change religions frequently here and practicing more than one is very common (i.e. Catholicism and candomblé; spiritualism and candomblé/Catholicism).

I don’t know much about spiritualism but he said that what he witnessed studying it literally kept him awake at night. He saw a doctor put his finger behind the eye of a person, perform surgery with scissors, and even perform heart surgery. No sterilization was performed and he never saw blood spilled. There is a house near the CIEE center and if I get brave I may have to see for myself.

Instead of having the normal 4 hour language class, we went on a tour the candomblé community. It was pretty dry and I can’t say that I got too much out of it. It was at the same place that we watched the ceremony. We toured a “museum” but there wasn’t much to see and the oldest artifacts that had were orange peels. Yep, orange peels. I did meet some adorable children however that posed so that I could take their picture and got to try some traditional food. Oh! I also saw chicken feet and other animal parts hanging on a porch as sacrifices to an orixá.

Tomorrow Bethany and I are planning to do a little shopping and stop by a travel agency to find out how much it would cost us to go to Rio or the Amazons over our break before the Fall semester starts. This weekend I have my final paper, exam, and presentation to prepare for. Wish me luck!

This morning we went on an excursion as a class to the feria, or market place. The market is such an important aspect of life that the days of the week in Portuguese literally translate to Monday= Second Market, Tuesday= Third Market, Wednesday= Fourth Market, etc. We aren’t talking about the little mercados that I go to when I want to buy yogurt or peanuts. No, no, we’re talking about the vast labyrinth of narrow pathways lined with venders selling everything from pottery to sheep eyes. I’ve seen the market places in Mexico and Honduras, but the sights and smells can still be difficult to cope with. I watched a live chicken being wrapped in newspaper as though it were a bouquet of flowers, I saw a goat skin still streaked with blood and tendons laying out in the sun to tan, and I heard the frighteningly human-like cry of a goat as it was tossed into a wheel barrow and carried away to be slaughtered. That’s not to mention the strange murky fluids in old coke bottles, the rat cages overlooking fresh produce, or the smell of urine and blood. Yes indeed! This is where almost all of Salvador goes to get its fresh produce and meat! It’s a lovely reminder of all the blinders that we’ve put between us and the unpleasant realities in life. I heard a few people in the group comment that ignorance really is bliss. I would suggest that the solution is not ignorance, but rather to cope with your discomfort if possible and if not, to strive to change the situation. But enough of being philosophical…

I got my paper turned in this morning without any problems and this afternoon I gave my presentation. I had to speak about a tourist trip in which you can go on foot from Punto Arenas at the Southern tip of Chile to the South Pole. The trip costs R$120,000 and takes about 55-days. Fun right? The daily energy expenditure is estimated to be 5,000 calories which is the equivalent of running a marathon twice a day, everyday for nearly 2 months. I didn’t feel fabuloso about the presentation, but não importa, não.

Next weekend since I don’t have anything major due Monday, I’m thinking on going on a trip with a small group to a place about 5 hours away with waterfalls. We can go by bus and stay at a hostel for super cheap, but it’s still under discussion.

Much love my dear readers. Até amanhã.

GOOOOOOOL! BANG, POP, WOOT! Brazil just won the Copa Americana 2007 and all of Salvador is celebrating! The score was 3:0 Brazil vs. Argentina.

Today started off a little rough because I had some stomach pains this morning, but you can’t let a little discomfort get you down on a beautiful beach day! I ended up going to the beach around 10:30 this morning with Bethany and Ana. At the bus stop we met a quirky old lady. There was a piece of Styrofoam under the bench at the bus stop that she asked a black man running by to pick-up for her. When he left she told us that she hates blacks and that he was probably a thief. She proceeded to explain that she isn’t the one who made the differences between blacks and white, then she pointed to the sky and said that God did that. She asked us if were evangelicals, to which Ana and I replied no and Bethany replied yes. She told Bethany to save us and take us to Jesus, and then she left. I will refrain from commenting on the episode. I think it speaks for itself.

When we got to the beach I had to ditch the girls I was with because I’m not one to just lay out and tan. (Pale is beautiful!) I took a very enjoyable run, watched some beach soccer, climbed up to enjoy the panoramic view of the shore line from the statue of Jesus, visited the lighthouse, and splashed around a bit in the water. I’m itching to get into a game of beach soccer now that I’ve seen it played. The ball went in the water? Tudo bom. (Everything’s fine.) Need to bounce the ball off the wall? Não tem problema, não. (No problem.) The ball is stuck in the sand? Jogue! (Just play!)

I took the bus back around 1:00 and restocked my yogurt and granola stock at a local store. As I was walking back Isa and Conchita passed me in the car and invited me to go with them to buy acarajé from a street vendor. Acarajé is basically finely ground corn grains fried in palm oil. It wasn’t bad, but it smells better than it tastes.

When we got back I took a shower, ate lunch and started to watch the beginning of a Brazilian film until I realized that I should probably get some more work done. I finished my paper before mass and got to watch the second half of the soccer game. Yay Brazil!!!

Yesterday after I wrote the last blog entry I went to the Afro-Brazilian museum in Pelourinho with a group from my program. The top floor was dedicated mostly to artwork and artifacts associated with candomblé, while the bottom floor (the archeological museum) had information about the various indigenous groups that lived in the region and along with some of the original architecture built by the Franciscans during the colonial era.

After the tour we went for ice-cream next to the Elevador Lacerda and I must say that I’m quite in love. They have the most intriguing and exotic fruit flavors that I’ve ever tasted. This is the second time I’ve had ice-cream there and I doubt that it will be the last…

After ice-cream I walked around a bit and looked at berimbaus and artwork. When I got back Berna and Conchita were watching the opening ceremony to the Pan-American Cup and I sat and watch it for a while with them. Berna cooked a banana de agua for me to try that was absolutely incredible. I asked how it was prepared and she told me she just took the banana when it was well ripened and boiled it in a little water. (Don’t try this at home! We aren’t talking your run-of-the-mill banana. This is a WATER banana.) It tasted like cinnamon and spice goodness, but all the flavor is from the banana it self!

This morning I went with my friend Sonia to a mall and bought some CDs of Brazilian music and shoes for dancing. (I figure I’ve committed myself to try samba at least once here now that I have the shoes.) After lunch I spent the afternoon reading a few articles and starting my paper. Bethany called around 5:30 and I met her, Sonia and Felipe for dinner. We talked about going to see Harry Potter but I decided to take a rain-check for later this week so that I can get some more of my paper knocked out tonight. I did however agree to go the beach tomorrow morning to throw around the Frisbee for a couple hours. Wish me productivity tonight!

Hello my dear ones. I apologize for the suspense. These past few days have been jam-packed with new sights, ideas and experiences that I am finally ready and excited to tell you about.

Sunday night after I finished writing my paper for Contemporary Brazilian Culture, I watched Blood Diamond with Conchita, Isa, and Favio. May I just say that Conchita is the cutest thing ever! She gets just about as involved in movies as I do (which is note-worthy) and we squirmed through the movie entire together. She is also precious when she goes up to hug someone because she wraps her arms all the way around their waste and grins up at him/her. She loves a good joke too and has the most cheerful disposition. She’s always making jokes with Berna (the housekeeper) or playing a prank on someone. Today she went into Luciana’s room today singing, “Tenho um preseeeeente, preseeeeeente, preseeeeente…” and handed her an empty box of chocolate, then came into the kitchen giggling to tell Berna and me about Luciana’s response.

Monday I left the house at 8 AM so that I could go to an Internet Café to print my paper. In culture class we talked about Brazilian soccer, its history, and its importance. Jeferson Bacelar, my professor, claims that soccer is so popular here because it represents the Brazilian dream of equality and mobility. The poor, uneducated, and/or colored person can be a hero if he is gifted on the field. That isn’t to say that discrimination hasn’t been or isn’t currently present within the realm of soccer, but it has been a space within the society that the people, especially the poor, black and marginalized, have claimed as there own. When the local or national team wins, the entire city or country becomes joyful. Of course, on the other hand, this passion and team loyalty can also lead to instances of violence, but that is not a unique problem to Brazil.

After my afternoon class I came back home and spent about 15 minutes online to send off a few e-mails, then left for the capoeira class. The capoeira school is just one block over from my house which is very convenient. As we approached we could hear the music from the berimbau, drums and singing all the way down the street. (A berimbau is a one string instrument played with a coin. It is what the man is holding in my capoeira picture.) We started out with stretching and running around the room. Then the instructor yelled out commands for us to craw backward like a crab, bend from the waist and walk on all fours with your knees straight, etc. It reminded me of elementary school PE class and it was hard to maintain seriousness with everyone crawling on the floor like animals. A group of about 10 of us were all first-timers so the capoeira master broke us off into a smaller group to learn the basics. We started with the basic movement called ginga. It is side-to-side swinging motion to the rhythm of music that prepares your body for the other moves. Essentially you start with your feet shoulder length apart, then move the right foot back and left your left arm across your face as if to block a blow, return to the center position, and then move the left foot back and raise your right arm. Throughout the motion you maintain your knees bent and move your torso forward and backward in sync with your foot movements. Next we covered a few attacks and blocks. Most of these moves I already knew from my Brazilian dance class, but I was thankful for the familiarity. Attacks in capoeira are done through kicks, head butts and sometimes the elbow. Monday we covered about 4 different kicks, 2 blocks, and the aú (cartwheel). For the end of class we rejoined the more advanced students and formed 2 rodas, or circles. Two people enter the roda at a time and fight each other until someone else steps in. Capoeria is difficult to describe because it is something between a martial art and a dance. It was developed by the slaves as form of resistance and training that of course had to carefully disguise as something harmless and recreational. It is very much a game of cunning from its seemingly innocuous dance-like qualities, to the constant vigilance required to anticipate the actions of your opponent and perceive his/her weaknesses. For last half hour the two rodas combined into one, the lights were dimmed and we watched the master fight some of his most advanced students. Although most of the time capoeira is a non-contact sport, the master would often test his students and actually strike them to show them their vulnerabilities. I also saw for the first time the chamada which literally means the “call.” I don’t know much about it but basically the student would approach the master slowly and carefully, measuring his height with their hands. Then the two did a dance like motion walking back and forth together touching palms until the master would initiate the fight again. When I left at 9:30 they were still going but after 2.5 hours, I was exhausted! Here I am four days later and the back of my thighs are still stiff from all the kicking.

Tuesday morning the culture class was on capoeira- lucky me! We met 20 minutes before class and drove over to a community called Barriga da égua which literally translates as “Mare’s belly.” Carol, one of the program coordinators, explained that is was a type of favela or slum, or to be poltically correct a communidade. Capoeira is heavily practiced in the community and has helped to keep some of the street children there out of the life of crime by teaching them discipline and giving them a skill that they can use to earn an honest living. At the capoeira school we visited there we met three young men who are now instructors that were taken from the street as boys of 5-6 years old and made into role models for others in the community. We learned more about the history of capoeira, although I must confess that I was pretty sleepy Tuesday morning. I had to wake up extra early to finish my homework for my language class, so I was slightly less than attentive, but I did gather that capoeira was made illegal in 1892 just four years after emancipation. The “freed” slaves had no money, no jobs, and no home so they spent their time drinking and practicing capoeira, which left the whites ill-at-ease. It thrived however, behind closed doors until 1937 when Getulio Vargas, the president of Brazil at the time, legalized it and it started gaining popularity worldwide. After about an hour of history and explanation, we went upstairs and learned the basics. Luckily I didn’t feel too terribly sore from the night before, but the soreness was still to come and the class was brief.

In the afternoon after my language class we went to dinner and the soccer game of Victoria x Santa Cruz. The restaurant we went to was buffet style and I had my fill of delicious Brazilian specialties and veggies. We were running late so we had to eat pretty quickly and get on our way to the game that started at 7:30 PM. On our way it started sprinkling slightly which was bad news since the game is in an open stadium…and we also saw a dead man that had been hit by a car on the street. Moral of the story: cars don’t stop for you!!!

At the game the fun and excitement continued. Apparently some sort of disagreement erupted (probably regarding team loyalties) and we saw a swarm of about 40 people running over to the conflict area with shirts wrapped around their fists. The police were there also and later we saw a few people being taken away, but we avoided the action and moved to the other side of the stadium. The soccer was pretty sloppy- much worse than the last game I saw. Victoria ultimately won 1:0 with a goal toward the end of the second half. I didn’t get back until about 11PM at which point I was ready for a good night’s sleep!

Wednesday in my culture class we had a dance instructor come in and teach us Afro-Brazilian dance. Unlike Tuesday, the instructor spent only about 10 minutes talking and went straight into the practice. He showed us the basics and put together a few sequences that we did in pairs across the room. By the end of the class he had us improvising, which proved immensely entertaining. Let me just take this opportunity to explain the dynamics of the group that I’m with. We are from all over the US with a few students from other parts of Latin America. The 70 of us are divided into 2 groups and I’m in group 1. Group 1 has culture in the morning with language in the afternoon, and group 2 is vice versa. Out of both groups I believe that I am 1:2 without a piercing or tattoo. Even my quiet, conservative Portuguese teacher revealed the tattoo of a flower on her left shoulder. It was absolutely hilarious to see the moves people made up. Once again, I am so thankful that I already know afro-brazilian dance so by “improvisation” looked suspiciously like the routine that I was taught in class.

After my Portuguese language class we went to dinner and a candomblé ceremony. I’ve been spoiled this week with all these buffet dinners! Wednesday the restaurant was a bit more elaborate than Tuesday and all the food was very rich and heavy. I had trouble identifying what exactly I was eating, but I did have a really delicious soup that I think was creamed spinach and chicken.

Candomblé, as I have briefly explained, is an African religion very popular in this region. It is not considered to be a mutually exclusive religion so it is commonly mixed with Catholicism. I read a book in a Portuguese literature class at Tulane about a man who made a promise to Saint Barbara that he would make a pilgrimage to her church carrying a huge cross all the way if she interceded for him to cure his donkey. The priest at the church refused to let him enter the church because it was sacrilegious and associated with candomblé practices. Only after a series of tragedies and his own death, the man enters the church stretched out on the cross.

Many of the candomblé deities have corresponding saints from the Catholic Church and the church has had a long struggle banning these practices. The church has depicted many of the deities as Satan, but their popularity has persisted. (See picture to the right of Exo characterized as the devil.) Essentially, cadomblé teaches that the supreme God created many spirits with individual personalities and skills. You are chosen by one or more of these spirits at birth, which one(s) is later identified by a priest.

For example, Naña is the orixá of mud, still water, and death. She is the protector of the old and the queen of wisdom. She loves lilac, blue, and white. Her day of worship is Saturday. Her “children” are those who are generally cheerful, but at times grumpy, known to talk to themselves, jealous, and rancorous. Xangô is a male figure known to be the lord of life. He hates death and sickness, is strikingly handsome, has power over women, and adores parties. His element is copper. He controls lightening and thunder and his colors are red and white. His children are generally suave, handsome, joyful, dignified, and protectors of justice. Etc.

We weren’t allowed to take any pictures during the ceremony and no one was allowed to wear black or shorts. The men and women entered on opposite sides of the room which was decorated with white paper decorations draped from the ceiling. There was some seating which consisted of wide steps in stadium-style seating, but there was not enough room for many of us to sit. I ended up standing on the top step with my view slightly obscured by all the ceiling decorations. For the first 45 minutes the elders representing different deities took turns doing their traditional dances, then food corresponding to each deity was brought out while the elders changed their clothes. After everyone ate all the elders came out and danced together… and that was pretty much it. We left before they finished because this week has been packed and we were all falling asleep. I must confess that I was pretty disappointed with the experience. It was a public ceremony so I felt that is was merely showy. Once again I got back to my house around 10:30-11ish and went straight to bed.

Thursday in my culture class we talked about the question of racism. Racism here is very different than what occurs in the US. By American terms people are either African, Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian, etc. The lines are fairly clear-cut. Here there are over 130 shades between being black and white, and every shade closer to white, the better. A person’s race is judged by the color of their skin, not by their heritage. Brothers and sisters can have polar opposite classifications if they have different complexions. In the US we had “separate but equal,” here it is “together but unequal.” There aren’t obvious signs of segregation or discrimination, but they are present in a engrained, subtle way.

Schools here, for example, charge a fee for grade school through high school. Nearly all of these primary institutions are private. To go to college you must take an exam called the vestibular which is specific to the subject matter that you want to study. According to your test score, you are offered or denied a seat within your field of study. The best colleges are public and free if you are accepted. How does that make sense? How are the poor supposed to get to college if the government offers no quality primary education? The system is made by whites, for whites.

In my Portuguese class that afternoon we watched a film called O homen que copiava. It did an excellent job of dealing with some heavy subject matter without actually being heavy. It told the story of a man, André, who worked in a shop as the guy who makes photocopies. The movie opens with him checking out of the grocery store with only R$11.50 to spend. He had to constantly ask the girl behind the counter the subtotal and try to keep his purchases within his budget. Then, in the next scene you see him burning a pile of R$50 bills, which makes for an intriguing start.

His father left when he was 4-5 and after waiting 7 years for him to return, he told a kid on the schoolyard that he was afraid his dad wasn’t coming back. When André revealed how long his dad had been gone, the other kid started laughing, which was met with a punch that blinded the kid in one eye. André was kicked out of school at 12 years old, and his mother was so depressed since her husband left that she did nothing to try and reenroll him in another school.

He falls in love with a girl that he spies on with his binoculars from his room. From there the shy, awkward copy guy goes on to make counterfeit money on the color copier, rob a bank, win the lottery, evade a drug dealer after his money, and help murder the girl’s father. He does all this without ever becoming what I would consider a “criminal.” I don’t know if you can get it in the US, but I’d recommend it.

It was finally a calm day and I came home and just rested after classes. I thought about going to capoeira, but I thought better of it and took the evening to check e-mails and talk with who I could on Skype.

Today (Friday) I slept in and took the morning to write all this out! It’s lunch time now and I’m planning on going to the Afro-Brazilian Museum and the Museum of Archeology this afternoon. This weekend I have to write a paper on race, religion, or Brazilian music for the culture class, and prepare an oral presentation with a partner for my language class. Both are due Monday, but I don’t have any plans other than the museum today and going out somewhere to watch Brazil play Argentina on Sunday. Props on making it to the end of this entry by the way! Sorry about the length!