Anne in Brazil

Awesome, there's a Giardia Club website online!

I just witnessed a mango plunge onto the roof of a car. Everyone's heads whipped around at the sound. Lucky it wasn't someone's head...

new photos at http://photos.yahoo.com/arouss13

...finally, a comments program that works!

The past week and a half have been marred by a student strike against tuition hikes. As a student at McGill, I'm pretty familiar with student strikes, but unlike at McGill, where things seem to go on as usual no matter what is happening outside, things (i.e., classes, my social life in general) have pretty much stopped functioning around here. It's beyond the point of being interesting or helpful - at this point, I'm not sure what kind of success the students are having. Furthermore, it infuriates some of my friends who do not have the time, money or patience to spend the bus fare to school every day, just to find that classes have been cancelled yet again. I've been told that the university will be back to normal on Monday. I'll believe it when I see it.

On a happier note, lately I have been having some really interesting conversations with my host mother Conceição about growing up in the country. (Before I get into this I should remark upon how under"developed" the Northeast was until very recently. The coast was really the only place where there were cities - otherwise the states like Bahia and the other Northeastern states were just a vast expanse of farm country and wilderness. To be honest, I've passed through some places where it's still a pretty big deal to see a car go by.) Anyway, Conceição told me yesterday that during World War II, someone had to bring an already 1 month-old newspaper from Salvador to her town (in the middle of nowhere), where it was then borrowed by everyone, and by the time people found out about the latest battles and other national and international news, the paper was at least 4 months old. Radios didn't come around until she was a young child. She also told me about day-to-day life on her farm, where everything was done on horseback ("even going to the dentist!"). The farm had an abundance of fruits (some of which are native only to Bahia, like umbu and siriguela), vegetables and animal products, enough that the family (10 or 11 children plus parents, servants and visitors) could survive without a refrigerator. I asked Conceição who the best horseman/woman was, and she promptly replied, "well I was awfully good." To be honest, it's amusing to imagine her and her seven (!!) sisters, now urban ladies, young and on horseback, but it happened.

I also learned about the origins of Conceição's remarkable generosity. It turns out that her father was the mayor of their town, the kind of guy who knew everyone's name and kissed babies and asked after your grandparents. As C. put it, "he never turned anyone down for lunch: black, white, rich, poor, old, young, everyone was welcome at our house." This makes sense as the environment that cutivated someone like Conceição, who allows a constant stream of kids and siblings to invade her house every day.

In the long run, maybe the fact that I'm not in class doesn't matter so much.

I think the final frontier of trying to salvage your dignity in a host country is the necessity to explicitly describe the well-being of your colon, first in a foreign language to a group of serious doctors (and your host mom, who asks questions), and after that in English to groups of your fellow exchange students, all of you in tears from hysterical laughter. And beyond that, not even caring because you just want to feel better. Needless to say, I’ve been suffering from a mild bug for about 2 weeks now. Today I went to the same doctor who took care of me during the mono thing, and it turns out that I’ve been invaded by Giardia lamblia, which can be picked up by any number of ways (food, hands, etc). It’s not uncommon around here, and after taking some kind of pill I should be fine. It’s a relief to clear all this up after so much unpleasantness.

Anyway, classes are in full swing, and I successfully chose some good ones, all on the best campus. I can’t get over how easy it is to generalize about the students from certain disciplines, whether at home or abroad (actually, I would say it’s even easier to guess what people study at McGill than here). For some reason, I find the history kids to be the kindest, most down-to-earth students of all the campuses, so I quickly made sure that I would be with them all this semester.

The other night I talked to Neale, my new roommate for next year in Montreal. It’s definitely strange, and tantalizing, to be talking about next year’s plans already, especially with the knowledge of how different it will be from my life now. I’m trying not to get too far ahead of myself, but at least it’s reassuring to know that I have an apartment and at least one roommate ready. Of course, I won’t go so far ahead of myself as to anticipate what I will do after graduation next June. That’s just unreasonable.

I wish I could post an MP3 of Gilberto Gil's "Back in Bahia" the way Sean can, but I guess you'll have to download it for yourselves. Anyway, I'm back.

photos: http://photos.yahoo.com/arouss13

Week 2 was about as different from Week 1 as you could possibly get while remaining in the same country, but that's what traveling is all about, right? After traveling all night through hours and hours of nothing, I arrived in Goya at 7AM where Manolo was waiting for me. He is obviously in the middle of his university/revolutionary phase because his hair was long, he had an earring, and was generally looking about as different as possible from other Correntinos. He then took me to his house - a farm, actually - where, while on vacation, he lives with his 3 brothers, four sisters, parents, grandmother, and a slew of animals. Now I can say that I've had milk directly from the cow, and meat directly from...well, from somebody.

After spending a few relaxing days on the farm, where I entertained Manolo's family with my cheerful ignorance of farm life and my delight in the fact that ducks walked by me all the time, Manu and I headed up to Corrientes city, where I got to see where he goes to school now. I caught up with some old friends and saw the sights, but in general I enjoyed my time on the farm a lot more, mainly because Manolo's family was incredibly fun to be around. I never thought I would be so welcomed by them.

Manolo has expressed interest in visiting me in Monteal, and the other day he told me that the prices were cheapest during February. Poor thing, I'm not sure he realizes why they're so cheap...I suppose I can arrive at the airport with a spare parka for him.

Anyway, now I'm back to the grind. Classes started yesterday and almost everyone I know is planning on escaping town for Carnaval (next week). I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet, but I'll probably stick around for a day or two and then get ouuuut.

take care.

Greetings from Buenos Aires!! I am finishing up one of the best weeks I've ever had, all thanks to my expert tour guide and friend, Katie, as well as the company of her roommate from back home. By day we toured the essential landmarks, like the Plaza de Mayo and La Boca, and by night we sampled some of the hotspots that Buenos Aires has to offer, most notably an old warehouse that is home to one of the hottest underground tango scenes in the city. Aside from watching many talented young people (and older experts) dancing tango, I also managed to learn a few steps, thanks to a sympathetic bystander.

My Spanish improved rapidly after immersing myself in the language, though I still make obvious mistakes and confusions with Portuguese. All in all, though, it came back quickly.

Tomorrow night I am taking a bus up to Corrientes to see my friends, which will definitely be a different experience from the sophistication of Buenos Aires. Still, I'm looking forward to it.

Quick highlights:
- last night's fantastic drag show at the greatest club ever
- 20 Argentines simultaneously lighting up their cigarettes in the Sao Paulo airport after the go-ahead from the airline employee
- Seeing the Madres de los Desaparecidos at the Plaza de Mayo
- swallowing my pride at the tango show
- swallowing my pride yet again at the salsa club
- the looks on people's faces when three young women over 5'10'' walk together through Buenos Aires

I'll check in again soon.