A Parallel Universe Called Brazil

Friday night was my first encounter with my fiancee, R's, cousin F. We had emailed back and forth for a few days setting up our outing for the night. Her friend, Raul, was turning 60 and having a get together at a local restaurant, Salsa e Cebolinha-- owned by a mutual friend named Conceicao-- and I was invited to come along. The night began slow enough with just a few people there and a round of Skol beer at 7pm. F was sweet, fun and always worried about me having a good time. I think I had TOO good a time. An unknown amount of beers, about 3 full meals, 10 dances, 50+ people and 6 hours later I was rather buzzed and completely exhausted. A friend of F's gave me a ride home since Flavia wanted to keep partying (she left around 3am)! 

During the course of the night, prior to becoming fuzzy over numerous glasses of beer, I told F about my plans to meet another cousin, D, the next afternoon and asked if she were going. She politely replied that she had not been invited. I quickly decided that changing the subject was in order. Being rather unfamiliar with the intimate details of Brazilian etiquette, I asked her what I should bring for the birthday of someone I didn't know-- wine, perhaps? She replied that, since he's older, retired and loaded, wine wouldn't be a good idea; considering he probably only drinks the most expensive kinds. Yipes, I thought. Ok....so, what would you suggest? I cautiously said. After thinking for a minute, she said, "Flowers. Pick a bouquet of whatever looks pretty. It will look sweet and thoughtful and flowers are pretty universal as a gift." Cool.

I decided it was okay that my weekend was getting a little out of control since, during the week, I never go out and it's all about work. So, Saturday afternoon I went to meet D. He was turning 87 that day and had invited a few friends and close family to have brunch at 1pm at his condo in Ipanema. D had kindly arranged for a taxi to pick me up at the hostel and bring me to his place. So, I waited....and waited....until 1:30pm when, even according to Brazilian standards, the taxi was late. The girl at the front desk called another one and I arrived, not so fashionably, late around 2pm. When I walked in, it was like a parallel universe. People were demurely chatting over cucumber finger sandwiches and red wine while sporting dock shoes and pearls. Not only was D's place enormous, it was very lavish. I suddenly felt hickish and sorely under-dressed. He greeted me at the door and, after wishing him a "happy birthday", I presented him with my flowers. As I explained that, since we hadn't met, I didn't know what to get him and had been advised that flowers might be nice, he signaled the maid to "take them". Damnit....a second major social mistake within 24 hrs. Oh well, I couldn't be offended. He was just the sweetest old man ever; he led me around the room and introduced me and kept checking to make sure I was doing okay and having a good time.

He led me down the hall into a small living room where he introduced me to all his kids and a few grandkids (friends were in the main living area at the entrance). Wow....he considers me family already? His sons I and P were wonderful and super-interesting. P makes documentaries about Brazilian social inequalities. Naturally, after hearing about what I do, we hit it off and got into a major discussion (with his wife as well) about race, class, etc. Nerd stuff. After about 4o mins of chatting, we were called by M.H. (D's wife) into the main area for brunch. I ended up at a table with a guy named P and his wife. The conversation was brilliant until they heard that I study race. They then began to tell me what a "social problem" black people are. WHAT?? How they don't want to work, study or do anything productive so things like the new affirmative action policies in Brazil are doomed to fail. These policies are also a form of reverse-racism against people who study hard, get good grades, are good workers and deserve that spot (i.e. white, elite people). The wife admitted openly that she was "a racist" but countered that, in Brazil, everyone is (ummm, no). For example, she said that she has no problem talking or interacting with people of color but, if one wanted to marry her daughter, "No way". During this Twilight Zone conversation, they continually asked me, "Don't you agree?" I constantly ignored the question. Ah, rich people; how you amaze me! 

Sunday night was another beer-fest with F. For all her wild partying, I feel more like myself with her. She's very motherly and always open, which makes me comfortable to speak my mind. This time, she took me to a little hole-in-the-wall bar (literally) called "Tabuleiro da Baiana" for a samba party. I drank WAY too much again, danced samba all night and generally had a marvelous time. F and her best friend "A Baiana" (I can't remember her real name) took me to eat at the Cervantes Restaurant, which is apparently rather famous here. They make an awesome sandwich, I gotta say. After dropping me off at the hostel, they reminded me of more social events that I "must" attend on 10th, 19th and 20th of the month. I was exhausted and rather dehydrated all day at the archive. Thank God I have tonight to recover and sleep!

This weekend was truly like falling into some strange Brazilian vortex. Racism, dancing, 100 year-old red wine from France, roast beef sandwiches at 1am....how will I ever balance living in Rio and working here??