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What’s the gossip??

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So the other day the building maid called our apartment asking for our baba.  When she came back upstairs she let me know that there was some VERY scandalous gossip going on in our building.. . a potential assault, and the night guard was going to be fired for it.

Norman Rockwell

The night guard it turns out tried to kiss our nanny one night, and grabbed her arm .  When trying to escape he ripped her shirt…. of course she remembers none of this.  I was amazed, how had something this scandalous come about, and why would my nanny be mentioned??

What really happened is she started her own little gossip chain.

Back in  the beginning of May, she was out walking and ignoring our Zelador who was calling her name.  So he grabbed her arm (some what roughly according to her).  She was so incensed that he would even touch her (she is prone to being dramatic), especially since she has a boyfriend. etc.. etc.. she complained to an empregada of the apartment of a friend of my son .  The empregada has a mother who also works in our building, and of course she shared the story with her mother.  From there I’m not sure, but a driver of another family heard it, and took it upon himself to tell the head of the building association’s president.

We of course just laughed at our nanny, and reminded her that she started the whole chain in motion.  Brazilians love their novelas, and it seems the staff in our building have lots of free time on their hands 😉

Don’t worry we made her clear it all up; no jobs lost.


Dance monkey dance

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A year and a half into Brasil, and my husband and I still haven’t got dancing. I don’t think he’s really much into dancing, so haven’t pushed it.  My son however, has embraced all things Brasil. From his love of corn (he pretty much has decided that all cans contain corn), to his love of Brasilian music and dance.  I’m quite impressed with his samba footwork.  He’s definitely going to leave Brasil with a few skills.

and a bit more here:


Police Jeito

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So this weekend we headed off to Maresias. There was a 40% chance of thunderstorms, but weather prediction in Brazil is pretty fickle… as you can see from this lovely photo.

As we pulled out of Sao Paulo city, my husband mentions he forgot to grab his passport, and how he’s essentially driving illegally. I was confused as he’s never brought this up before. So he explains, that a cop could pull us over randomly (um ok paranoid much hon?) and we’ve been here long enough that he should have got a Brasilian license. With the passport he could weave a story about how he just got here (since he was recently in the US). Then I start thinking about how in Brasil you have to have some kind of documentation to travel with your kid, to show that they’re not kidnapped. Then I realized this is just crazy think that we’d get pulled over, and went back to sleep for the long drive.

That was until my husband was waived off to the side by a cop? WTF?!! Yeah, at one of the roadside police stations, a cop was just standing in the middle partition of the the road and decided to wave US over. My husband immediately turned on his charm (he can seriously talk his way through any ticket), but then the cop asked him to get out of the car and step away from it. Crap right?

No this is my weasley husband here…he’s good at weasling.  When he got back to the car, he let me know that the cop was enjoying the conversation about California and the tv show C.H.I.P.S.  so much, that he asked my husband to step into the police station for a “cafe”… yeah okay that makes sense. My wife and children are sitting in a tiny hatchback in the “pull off area” on the side of a small freeway, and we’re going to go inside and drink some coffee and talk about C.H.I.P.S.  He actually had to explain to the cop why he couldn’t.. the fact that we were clearly on our way somewhere before we were waived over seemed to slip through the logic that was being used.

Otherwise, Maresias was as lovely as ever. I did get eaten alive by these tiny vampire mosquitos.  You can see the little bits of blood they left all over my ankle.  It actually hurts to walk on my right foot due to the sheer numbers of bites.. and that’s just my right ankle (9 on just the right side of my right ankle).

Let’s go fly a kite

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So my husband was recently in Panama, where things are cheap.  He brought home a gift for my son, a Hot Wheels kite.   On Saturday night there was a bit of wind, so we thought we’d go out and try and fly the thing. Except we didn’t want to go too far, and as Sao Paulo is a big city unless you go to a large park or head out to the freeway where all the favela kids hang, parque Ibirapuera, or the beach, we were pretty much out of luck.  Until we found an empty lot right next Shopping Morumbi to try it out.

The problem with this parcel of land, or the kite, not sure which one is that the wind wasn’t quite right.  As I hear that you want to have more of an open area, where the wind isn’t as choppy (thus why I’m sure the freeway is the place of preference for the favela kiddos).  But again, our quasi-2 year-old couldn’t tell that the kite wasn’t “really” flying.

Also,  I doubt he would have enjoyed it as much if we actually flew it up high, as you can see he was stomping the kite tail.  That and he had more fun running away from mom and dad through the plot of weeds.

His “running through the tall grass” was the real problem, as the weed patch wasn’t just any old weeds, it was the weeds I grew up with in Hawaii– sticker weeds. My hubby had never encountered these beasts before, but they were my foe as a child as well.

My husbands shoes, which are made of cloth were covered, as were the inside and outside hem of our jeans, and the back of my son’s Havianas.  Luckily we thought, the little guy was in shorts, so he didn’t get it as bad as us.  We couldn’t figure out why the whole night he kept pointing to his thigh and saying “doi doi” as in “ouchie.”  That is until we took of his pants to put him to bed…. poor kid, he had a bunch of them on the inside of his pant leg!

Lost in translation

So Alho means garlic… an “o” or “a” is “the”

and this is the sign we drove past yesterday on the way back from the doctor.

Yeah I know it’s perfectly legit, but still as an English speaker it’s funny. For the record assoalhos translates to floors in Portuguese. So it’s just a funny word I guess, to a couple of juvenile Americans.


Thick and Thin

On the flight back from Miami I watched “Up All Night.” While it’s got funny actors, I never would have been drawn to watching it.  As a mom and a soon to be mom, I’ve gotta admit it was funny.  However, in the course of the show they shared a quote.  Basically, as you get older, you can have a great face and a fat arse, or a tight arse and a face like skeletor, but you can’t have both.

That saying is sooo true on so many levels.  You can have fresh hot bread, and exotic tropical fruit, and no snow and give up your peanut butter M&Ms, or you can have peanut butter M&Ms, and live in the US 😉

So when I saw this photo on Facebook I had to post it.  Brasilians would unilaterally agree that US women are too skinny, and I have to say, I love Brasil’s love of curves.  When I was watching TV in the US, I thought to myself, is she supposed to be attractive, she’s tooooo skinny.  When I lost a bunch of weight I thought I was too skinny…I’m curvy, but living in Brazil I’m even more aware of my Japanese ancestry…. I have no butt whatsoever, freaking Japanese genes.

So in summary, I can live in Brasil, and eat like a Brasilian and get nice and curvy (except for that freaking butt), or I can live in the US and be average and see images of skinny biatches all the time that make me go on cleanses.

Angry Brazilian Ex

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So the other day my husband didn’t answer his phone (he does this frequently as he hates answering the phone and hearing “Quem fala” or “Who am I talking to?”  His normal response is “I don’t know you called me!” ).  This is rather convenient for two reasons. Brazilians don’t leave messages and usually it’s work people calling, so if he doesn’t answer they don’t leave a message and they just keep calling other people till the issue is solved, or call him back (so if you need something from my husband call twice or leave a message, as he does return messages).  Anyway, the point of this is Brazilians RARELY EVER leave messages. Super annoying habit that I hate, but I’m a phone slut as my husband says, “I’ll pick up for anyone, anytime, anywhere,” so this would never happen to me.  Going out of the normal Brazilian way, the other day a Brazilian left a message….or two.  And it was a BEAUTIFUL message.  It was so beautiful, that we made our baba listen to it and type it up into a Word document so that I could post it on here for all of you to read… please excuse the language (English edited out, but Portuguese is as left), but this guy was kinda pissed (and I think drunk)

If you listen to the audio you’ll realize two things, this guy is not drunk, and he’s not angry ranting.  He is very calmly going through all of these totally crazy very rational reasons she should return.

MENSAGEM NA CAIXA POSTAL (audio part 1 and audio part 2)

1 PARTE:  Ah minha nossa senhora, a bichona já mudou até a saudação da caixa postal da Sandra, esse cara tá brincando comigo..pô num eh possível isso , cs tao brincando comigo, cs tao brincando comigo… a hora que eu for aí pra reclamar a minha mulher..aí a coisa vai feder ta …entao fala pra essa bichona que fala inglês na caixa postal pra crescer um pouquinho ta, e num num.. e e e deixar de ser muleque ta… fala pro seu papí deixar de ser muleque ta…… e vamos parar por aqui ta, oh sandra se vc ainda tem algo por mim ta.. me respeita por favor ta e nao deixa esse muleque brincar comigo .. nao faça isso se ver o email que te mandei sandra,ver como vc ta linda de top less na piscina ta

Oh my gosh Sandra, some queer has changed your voicemail greeting.  This guy is messing with me .. hell this is not possible.  You two are messing with me. You two are messing with me. When I get there to reclaim my woman things are going to get ugly, so tell that quer that is peaking in English on your voicemail to grow and and stop being an dick. Tell your daddy to stop being a dick ok? Let’s stop here ok,  Oh Sandra if you still have feelings for me …. respect me please and don’t let this dick mess with me. .. do not do this to me if you see the email I sent to you Sandra, you will see that you are beautiful, topless, in the swimming pool.

2 PARTE:  Oh Sandra.. mas que porra é essa de msg que deixaram na tua ..saudação, antes era sandra, agora apareceu a voz de um cara falando em inglês, pelo amor de deus.. ave maria …onde a minha sandra foi amarrar o burro.. puta merda…. viu Sandra, aquela foto que te falei, eu tenho muita foto…nao fica preocupada ta bom.. que se fiz aquilo com alguem, foi so com vc e isso eu juro pela minha filha Clara.. pela minha família, quem você quiser, eu tenho muita foto com você e isso é uma coisa que eu vou levar pro túmulo.. so é minha e sua, que é sagrada ta…que vou guardar pra gente olhar quando for velhinho.  eu espero, espero voltar com voce um dia, quero ser muito seu amigo…

Oh Sandra .. what kind of S** is this msg on your voicemail? Before it was you Sandra now there is a voice of a guy talking in English.  For goodness sake,.. ave maria … where did my Sandra find this JackA** .. F*** …. Sandra, did you see the picture I told you about. I have lots of these pictures.. . don’t worry though, because if I did something with someone, it was only you and I swear by my daughter Clara .. and by my family…. and by whomever else you want me to swear by. I have a lot of pictures with you and that’s something I’ll take to the grave .. It is only mine and yours, which is sacred … I’ll keep it for us to look at when I’m an old man. I hope, I hope to be together with you someday. I  really want to be your friend.