Brazil 2005: Part 2

Brazil - part 2

7/25/05

So I'm sorry to say, this is the last of the Brazil Travelling Sherman episodes. As an Idiot, I lost my notebook on a recent journey back to New York. Here is what I had typed so far, I will try to addend as best as I can. As the Senor said to me one time, "The best memories are the ones that are in your head". I'll try and do you justice and remember to keep traveling…wherever you are.

Sao Paulo, July 5, 2005

The Day after independence day as I sit on this couch. We are weary travelers, Lisa and I. We take 2 days to recover in a lovely town called Santos -- one of the first settlements by the Portugese. Sanots is a port town known for its sugar juice and ice. Lisa's uncle runs this ice factory in town, more on this later.

MEAT

I have eaten more barbecue meat in the last 3 days than I have all year.

There are 2 big differences between Brazilian meat and USA meat.

1. Brazilian cows are free range, not overstuffed in a sty.

2. The cows eat grass, not any artificial feeds.

So I have been to 3 churrascarias (brazilian meat houses) in the last 4 days . I have become irregular. We go to this restaurant called Montana Ranch. You can tell by the 2 redneck singers that advertise for this place.

Don't be fooled, however. This is one, high class eating establishment. You get a meat card after the waiter sits you down. The meat card has 2 sides on it. 1 side has red, the other side has green.

Green = give me meat

Red = getting into a food coma, Stop.

So Uncle Tomas tells us how the churrascaria works. He hands me the map of a cow and it displays each different beef cut. There is a barrage of meat cutters cycling through cutting pieces of beef in my general direction

2 hours later I am in a meat coma. My favorite is called the "Little Diaper". I'm not sure of its correct term, but this is the nickname translated from Portuguese. This basically is part of the meat that holds all the shit together. It's a good, lean, salty, cut -- Just like that Brazilian mom I never had used to make.

So I forgot to tell you about Lisa's Uncle Tomas. He lives in Sao Paulo, Brazil. Some random observations about Sao Paulo

• Sao Paulo has 20 million people. The 5^th largest city in the world.
• It is an urban planning nightmare. The metro is good, but otherwise a sprawl of excess pollution and bingo parlours.
• Some parts, which we fortunately miss, are the most dangerous in South America. A new law was recently passed where it is okay to drive slowly THROUGH the Red light late at night to prevent carjackings from occurring.

Tomas' house is great. We get treated to plush amenities such as a hot tub and karaoke machine. These people take karaoke seriously. Usually when I sing karaoke, it's right before I vomit on the waitress. On this night, Tomas rings up the songs from John Denver to the Beatles. I'm too sober for karaoke right now.

Here the top 5 problems with doing karaoke sober.

1. You realize the music and the pictures do NOT match. For example, the song "Country Roads" by John Denver has a picture of a woman walking by the River Seine.

2. The Olympic theme music at the beginning of the Karaoke cassette tape really doesn't inspire you to compete.

3. You know that no matter how well you sing, you will never get to be on American Idol.

4. You realize that everyone else, who hadn't had a thing to drink either, has decided to quit and fall asleep…realizing the lost cause of the evening.

5. The ladies simply do not dig it.

END OF WHAT I HAD WRITTEN DOWN.

Some last thoughts on Brazil (to summarize).

Lisa's Uncle Tomas takes us to a town called Santos. Santos is a beach town nearby where the Portugese first landed. I drive the Volkswagen around the town only to realize that Brazilians have not yet mastered the concept of lanes, signaling, or traffic lights. After my resting beats per minute increase to 125, Tomas grabs the wheel. Fair enough, I feel for him.

Tomas runs an ice plant. He claims it is a big refrigerator. He has generators set up to keep the chilling salt ice water and freezer rooms cold. He sells chipped ice, crushed ice, ice cubes, ice molds and any other ice novelty you could think of. I am very grateful to have gone on the tour. He has my respect, as well as the respect of many others in the community.

Later that evening I play tennis, eat meat and drink beer with Tomas and his friends. It is quite the interesting night. Mostly it consists of strange, hairy, men rambling on in languages that I don't understand. I realize that my tennis game could stand to improve, but realize that all men around the world barbecue the same way. They stand over a hot fire and wait for their meat to cook -- each in turn, grunting and taking credit for their creations.

We fly to a waterfall town called Foz de Iguazu. It puts Niagra falls to shame. If you do a web search on this place, you will know of what I am talking about. We take tours on both the Brazilian and Argentine side. We take a boat tour with 150 of our closest high school friends from Paraguay. I realize kids all over the world like to hold hands, make out, and color each other's backpacks.

We end up for the last few days in a town called Buzios. It is where Bridgette Bardou once roamed with her Brazilian boyfriend. It is a beautiful beach town full of cobblestone streets and capoiera dancing. Capoiera is an old afro-Brazilian dance, which looks like a martial art. It is beautiful to see as they do it under a sea of bright stars.

What else would you like to know? I get sick, get better. I realize that American Television has penetrated the southern hemisphere. I realize that I've come to a country rich in heritage and pride. I realize that there is a bigger world out there -- more than I have ever imagined. I realize my wallet is lighter but my heart is heavier for all the people that have a fraction of the resources that I do. At any rate, I hate this part of the journal. I'll leave the clichés to you. I have enjoyed myself immensely. I hope you have, too. Until next time, happy travels. -- Travelling Sherman.