The First Day

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After flying for 11 hours and over 4500 kilomet er uh 2500 miles, I arrived on the 19th of October in Sao Paulo. The flight was 30 minutes a head of schedule, I breezed through immigration, and when my black pleather bag was one of the first around the conveyor belt I was pretty optimistic about this Brazil thing. I changed some dollars for reis (about 2.1-2.3 reis per dollar) and I headed out to the terminal excited to see the familiar face of my ex-girlfriend Carol. What was my ex-girlfriend doing picking me up at the airport? Well....

Carol and I had dated for around a year, but we broke up about three months before my departure. We had been together for around 6 months when I started telling friends and relatives of my plans to move off to Brazil for a year. The more naive, romantically inclined type were, no doubt, encouraged by the romantic ideal of going to a different continent to be with someone you cared about. The more pragmatic and cold must been discouraged by my seemingly hasty to decision to go abroad. I am sure almost everyone thought the root was Carol. I am also sure poeple were surprised my plans didn´t change when Carol and I broke up. But the fact is, I wanted to live abroad after I graduated since my sophomore year in college. After meeting Carol and her Brazilian friends I decided it would be nice to travel in a place I already had a base of friends. The breakup was not bitter, however, and Carol and I were close enough friends that she offered to pick me up from the airport when I arrived in Brazil. An offer I accepted without a second thought. That is until I had been waiting in the airport alone for 2 and a half hours, that will make a person think some funny things.

When I arrived Terminal two of the Sao Paulo airport and did not see Carol, I was not worried. The plane was early and immigration took only five minutes, after all. I spent my time walking around the terminal, denying the numerous taxi drivers who offered me a lift, and watching a dubbed infomercial on the Jack Lalane power juicer.
Now I have nothing but respect for the tip top shape of 115 year old Jack Lalane, but he can only entertain for so long. I decided to try to make a call home to let the folks know that I arrived safely.

I am not really sure why, but public phones in Brazil are not coin operated. Each phone has a slot for a prepaid calling card. These cards are sold pretty much everywhere, unless you actually need one- at which point every vendor you approach will tell you they have sold out, and snicker to themselves as you walk away frustrated. That's my theory anyway, and yes, I am bitter.

I approached an airport coffee shop for my first interaction with a real live Yellow and Green blooded Brazilian on Brazil´s turf.
Me: Fala ingles? (do you speak english)
Her: noa (giving a sheepish smile)
No problem, no problem for you see I had invested 20 dollars (thanks hal) in the Pimsluer conversational Portuguese series- 10 hours of intense Portuguese lessons. I was prepared for an interaction such as this.
Me stuttering unexpectedly and speaking very slowly: p pre preciso Cartoa. Para telefone (i need card for phone)(I also get my first taste of the importance of body language by accompanying the word cartoa by pointing to my credit card and using the international call me sign thumb extended toward the ear pinky in front of mouth with telefone)
Her: sim tem quarenta. (yes we have 40)
Me: I say nothing but hold my visa credit card and give her a do you take this look
Her: Noa
Me: I hand her 40 reis thinking that is what she meant by forty. She gives another small smile, hands me back 35 of the reis I just gave her, along with a phone card with 40 minutes on it.

I walked away thinking about why I suddenly forgotten all the Portuguese I studied. I mean, I came here not knowing much, but ''I need card for phone´´ was all I could muster??? Come on dude. This is a reoccurring problem. Something about talking to someone new makes me forget words, speak incorrectly, and fill in the silence with a lot of ummmmmmmss. Even as I am thinking to myself ''Stop saying um!´´

With my newly acquire calling card I tried to call back home. And I failed. The automated response was no doubt telling me what the problem is, but she didn´t have the common courtesy to translate to English, the bitch.

I was then left with nothing to do but wait. And wait I did. Half an hour-she´ll be here any minute. Hour-Traffic must be really bad. Hour and a half- maybe it was a bad idea to rely on my ex-girlfriend. Two hours- looks like I need a plan B. Fortunately, there is an Internet cafe at the airport. I got on to look for another friend of mine in Sao Paulo, Chris. He is an American teaching English in Sao Paulo, and I thought I could take a taxi, and stay at his place til I figured out my next step. He was not on line. I debate whether I should start to call hotels for vacancies, and decide against it. Carol had never exhibited any bitterness, and I had a hard time seeing her doing something as cruel as leaving me at the airport. So I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt, and wait a couple more hours before I did anything rash.

I return to terminal 2 and am more then excited to see Carol and another friend I made in Cincinnati Giselle. Giselle claims responsibility for the tardiness and they both thought immigration would take around an hour to an hour and a half rather then the 5 minutes it took. At that point it did not matter, I was not angry I was just happy to see them. The three of us walked out of the airport and into Brazil.

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