Breaking the Bank

There is one problem concerning Brazil that I didn’t necessarily anticipate when first planning for this trip. No it’s not that the fact that the food is incredibly salt laden, or that everyone owns yapper dogs for the sole purpose of breaking me of my sanity. It’s not the daily annoyance of people asking for my money, or the unavoidable discomfort of public transport. Nay, these things I can deal with. These things are quite minor.

What really vexes me, irks me, and ruffles my feathers, is just how expensive everything is here. When I first visited Brazil back in 03, the dollar rained supreme—a testament to the empire-strikes-back resilience of the American economy. But now, with strain of military defense spending – as things move closer and closer to the shit house – my proud American greens aren’t holding up quite so strongly. The conversion rate steadily approaches 2 reais to every dollar—a marked increase from years past. This doesn’t look to bad, at first glance, but often merchandise and food here cost twice as many reais. All things considered, one ends up with a level playing field, and no advantage is afforded to my first world monetary status.

To make matters worse, my position within this Brazilian household continues to negatively influence my spending. Access to my host family kitchen is all but restricted, even when I offer to pay for utilities or gas. Every now and again, I’m able to heat up a plate of pasta, or nuke something in the microwave, but not without earning dirty looks from the “true” members of the household. Meals out have thus been so much easier, all too convenient and stress free. But as much as I’ve tried to avoid the really expensive places, eating out every day has taken its toll.

Now add my lifestyle variables to the mix, and one has a solid equation for instant poverty. Cell phone + over priced minute plan + pricy language school + girlfriend + weekly fieldtrips + lots of beer + living expenses + no income = a quick end to my money. And I do mean quick. Staring at my bank account yesterday, with my mouth hanging agape and tears in my eyes, I realized that a six month stay in Brazil just won’t be possible. Not only that, but three full months of language study would be equally impractical.

So it was with an empty purse in mind, and a need for hard and fast budgeting, that I put an end to the two most expensive things in my life: school and housing. Most students study at the school for two weeks, maybe three at most, and my plan for a full three months of courses was perhaps a bit unrealistic. Also, looking at my host stay bill, after doing a bit of research, I realized that renting an apartment would be in fact much cheaper. And in truth, I have become a bit fed up with my restricted freedoms within the house, and my family’s lack of desire to involve me in anything that they do (among other things).

So all together, this weeks book keeping has threatened a marked change in my lifestyle. With the aid of Taisa, who has been really quite incredible in helping me find a place of my own, I should soon acquire a Bahian apartment. And now that school is coming to a close, I will have more time on my hands and will be looking for work—volunteer or otherwise. Unfortunately, my basic Portuguese and “tourist” visa status will be my greatest roadblocks, for any work of the paid kind. My original plan was to do some volunteer work after school, and actually I have some great possibilities in that regard (more on that later), but I would to say the least prefer and income, with real money coming in! Just something to get me through the full six months anyway.

Aside from all of these business issues, and my now constant fear of becoming a street beggar asking for a centavo, just one centavo, I have really begun to enjoy my life here in Brazil. I feel a constant fulfillment by the fact that this reality is mine, that I made this trip happen through sheer will and force of my own. Before I left for Oklahoma, when I was living out my time in Michiganian purgatory, one of the main complaints that I had about my life was that I never “got out in the world”. Seeing the same old high school friends, the same old places, I felt like a failure for not having taken the initiative to get out there and live my own adventure. Now, I walk by a beautiful otherworldly beach everyday. I see the sway of the palm trees, and watch the movement of this strange place pass before me. And when I do, I have to thank myself—myself and the other the people that made this happen. I pat myself on the back and say, “Good job Aaron. Leo. Here you are. You did it. You’re living out your own adventure, and no one will ever be able to take this from you.”

However much time I am blessed with in Brazil, even if I am destined to return home early, or lose myself here for all time, I can at least come away with this feeling. That something beautiful steadily rose out of so much sadness, and that this, and this alone, is my own adventure.

Here are some complimentary pics of pre Carnival preparation, fun with the maids, and Taisa, Kazu, and I at the Barra beach drinking Skol and being happy:

(Getting ready to hit the streets, Carnival style)

(Gringo's are from Mars, Brazilians are from Venus)

(I walk by this mysterious little building on my way to school. I think it's abandoned and oh so creepy. )

(Hmm...upgrades. Taisa and I getting some sun.)

(This picture made me realize how white I had again become. It prompted me to hit the beach for three days in a row. I ham happy to report that I no longer look like a marshmellow.)

(There's nothing more classic than a Skol, the king of "bem geladas".)

(The facial expressions say it all.)

(I love this picture not for the overly passionate kiss, but for the gringo in the back ground staring at us doing it.)

(Shadow of the farol)

(My eye. Why I attach it here I'm not quite sure.)