Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts

Friday, April 24, 2009

Jetskis to Brazil

When I first took this gig, I figured it would provide the opportunity to travel for work all around Latin America. Of course the financial crisis made quick work of such notions, but thanks to an urgent situation with one of our biggest clients, I was afforded the opportunity to fly to São Paulo to participate. Unfortunately for me, such a journey required obtaining a visa (thanks Dubya!). This process brought to mind the incredibly high stress levels I endured when originally moving to Argentina. Four times I had to go to the embassy and deal with the same dour-faced clerk. He insisted that it would take three business days to obtain the visa (after costing me one due to his general unhelpfulness). Luckily, my compañero Juan Carlos was able to sway him, using the fact that we were literally talking about a million dollars worth of Brazilian business. On the last day of March, and more embassy delays, I packed in about fifteen minutes and was on my way.

Ever since seeing City of God, I have found Portuguese completely impenetrable. When someone speaks Portuguese, it sounds like a language from another planet. I can't even hear the sounds, let alone the words. Belu happens to be fluent and tried to give me some lessons in advance of the trip, but they only served to confuse me all the more. Spanish is my "other language", so by default that's what I spoke. But many people understood English better. I was consistently confused as to which one to use, but not nearly as confused as the people listening to me. Thank goodness my company had taken care of nearly all the arrangements.
This is the bus line we took. It's pronounced "Happy-doo." Really? Really.

The Onion's "Our Dumb World" describes Brazil as, "People at their most beautiful, humanity at its ugliest: 'Boasting some of the sexiest people every to be stabbed repeatedly at night, Brazil is home to perhaps the most attractive victims of carjacking, robbery, and violent assault in the world.'" That's certainly an exaggeration on several fronts. São Paulo is a "thick" city. It's the fourth largest on the planet, and I found it very hard to get a feel for its character or even where I was at any point. To me, it was just an endless sprawl of buildings and traffic. Again, I wasn't a tourist and there was little time for exploring, but the sense that I was caught in an obtuse maze was always there. A couple excursions to Vila Madalena gave me the chance to see SP's version of Wicker Park, but it didn't really win me over.
Yet, there were some welcome signs of home. The power outlets and voltage are the same as in the US. I could charge everything all at once! Brazil is apparently a nation where they actually believe in recycling. Along those lines, there was also a much greater emphasis placed on general cleanliness. Everyone washed their hands before eating (there are special sinks in the company cafeteria for this!), and food preparers always used gloves and wore hats or bandanas. Also, despite what the Onion had to say, in many cases the body types resembled those from the US. More on this in a little bit. All of these things are completely the opposite of Argentina. Until this trip, I hadn't recylced a damn thing since my November excursion to Chicago. My frequent illnesses are likely due to the fact that the overall cleanliness of restaurants here are subpar to say the least.

I certainly ate well. I loaded up on mangoes as they are hard to come by in BsAs. Seafood was plentiful, a welcome development. There was a curious obsession with banana that worked really well sometimes (a delicious grilled salmon dish in my hotel) and failed miserably others (I believe I'm the only one of my friends who can say they've had a hot McDonald's Banana Pie - don't be jealous - it was rather disgusting).

The highlight of the trip was clearly that I was able to get away for a very short weekend in Guarujá, a beach town just an hour and a half away from São Paulo. Even better, Belu came up for the weekend (no visa needed for an Argentine). That meant I had a translator, tour guide, and arm candy. The bus ride passed through the lush Brazilian countryside which gave me two major thoughts. 1) It was gorgeous. The hills we climbed reminded me of my trip to Clemson, driving up over the Smoky Mountains. Belu said it was reminiscent of a rain forest she visited in New Zealand. Just beautiful. 2) They have built an incredible amount of hideous structures in that lush greenery. There is no concern for aesthetics. This was the case all over Brazil, but particularly stark in this area.
I get restless on a beach. Sitting around ain't for me. So I convinced Belu that we had to take a jetski out. It didn't take much arm-twisting. After the trip, a friend of mine claimed, "You can't ride a jetski without kind of looking like a douche," to which I said, "and yelling like one!" But really, who cares? There are few things more thrilling than trying your hardest to flip the sucker even though it's impossible. Needless to say, I can't wait to do it again.

Still, the peaceful action of eating corn on the cob followed by árroz con mariscos on the beach and washing it all down with a fresh coconut has its merits. Of course, I figured that the "scenery" would be as impressive as The Onion described. However, the real unique thing about Brazil is that its citizens have no shame about their bodies. This applies to the perfectly toned dancers at Carnival, but also to the majority of beachgoers who were far from fit. We only saw about five or six bodies worth looking at and a heckuva lot of this:
This is probably the wrongest thing I've done in the blogosphere - whatever, you're getting the full tour

Not that it bothered us. I'm sure my pale torso had people scrambling to purchase bonus sunglasses.
This coconut was rendered blind from the glare

After the brief, sunny day, it was back to São Paulo for some more work and further failed attempts at understanding Portuguese. One last story before I end this long ramble. One night I found myself briefly seated at the hotel bar next to a New Yorker who was in São Paulo on business. He had been there at least a dozen times. He'd been to Buenos Aires twice, but said he didn't like it and couldn't find any food worth eating. "I can get a better steak in New York," he declared. He was that kind of Ugly American. This is a guy who gets to travel all over South America on business and isn't taking advantage of the opportunity at all. He prefers to stay in his New York condo and "watch hour-long detective shows." Ugh. There's a verb in Spanish that doesn't really exist in English: aprovechar. It basically means to take advantage of the opportunity provided you. I love this word and wish we had something in English that could sum it up so succintly. It might be my favorte Spanish word (well, after helado, of course). I consistently feel blessed to have my time down here, and a trip to Brazil is just one example of something cool I get to do. Ron lives in NYC and thinks every other place can't measure up. He wouldn't know how to aprovechar if he sat on it. After such a successful trip, I feel lucky that I'm here, and lucky that I'm not the kind of person who would prefer to spend his time watching the TV. Now I just need to start exploring the rest of Argentina. Starting the day after I arrive from Brazil. We'll get to more aprovechando in a near-future post. Until then, tchau!

Sunday, September 7, 2008

I Always Wanted to Be a Tenenbaum

I knew I'd be out of my comfort zone and in a new, sometimes strange environment. But I didn't expect to be at this hotel for as long as I have been. Living in a hotel seems like a really fun thing to do until you actually try it. After the first week, it's a really dispiriting existence. You come back to your room which is designed to be a comfortable place. It's not designed to feel like home, and none of the stuff there is yours. The situation is made all the worse by the fact that I'm unsure of exactly how long I'm going to be here. If I'd known right off the bat that it would be a four week stint, I may have approached things differently. Nice though it may be, this is not a home:
The entire staff now gives me a knowing smile, but we don't really chat. Hotel life is not something I look forward to repeating. Even worse, because I forgot to extend the reservation, I was nearly kicked out on the street yesterday. Thankfully they either had a cancellation or otherwise found a way to keep me on. So I remain the longest tenured guest at the Hotel Regal Pacific. It's the same breakfast spread every day which always, always consists of no less than two medialunes con jamon y queso (ham and cheese croissants - they're really freaking good). I have no scale here, so I don't know how much weight I've gained, but I reckon I'm eating healthier than I did last September, though that's really not saying much.

Work has been the most positive thing to this point. I have this kickass view...
...from my actual office with a door that closes and everything. Eat your heart out, Les Nessman. The team is doing great so far, way ahead of schedule in many respects and they're a lot of fun to be around. My Spanish remains kind of sucky, but it's improving sucky which means I'll continue to integrate better as time goes along.

There's a dramatic cultural difference in the way one starts the work day. It doesn't really begin until 9 AM, and even then, there is a greeting / social interaction portion of the day. I'm the weird guy who goes straight to his e-mails. It probably doesn't help that everyone's speaking Spanish. It's always harder in the mornings because I'm out of practice from a night of sleeping. Maybe if I could force myself to dream en español... One thing I've gotten the hang of is how people greet one another. With women, it's almost always a kiss on the right cheek and a hand on the left shoulder. Greeting men, a handshake until you get to know them better. Then it's the same kissing procedure. Being American, I found the practice uncomfortable. But after a week or so, I not only got used to it, I think it's a far more human way to interract, even for guys. Maybe if I return to the states, it's something I can bring back with me. Kisses for everyone! Just on the cheek - no biggie. A quick side note: to any former girlfriends who may be reading this, I apologize for all those days I didn't shave. I now understand.

Everyone here is bundled up in parkas and scarves. I trek the three blocks to work every day sans jacket and people look at me like I'm a freak. Summer will be a different story. I fear it greatly.

More updates to come - ¡muy pronto!

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