5 more days!

Time snuck up on me once again, as it never fails to do. In 5 days I will be on the plane headed back to Salt Lake City. Going home will actually be a little bit of a relief. I have been spoiled with technology and now I cant live without it. It wouldnt be as bad if I could communicate with people without it, but I really cant here. Its been my link back to my friends who I have been missing all summer.
Going home will also be a bit of a nuisance too. I have to adjust to the 3 hour time zone again, only to have to adjust to Eastern Standard Time two weeks later. Ill also arrive in Atlanta at 530 am.......Groooooooooooosssssssss.
But enough complaining. I have a list of over 30 things to do when I get home, although most of them are just things I want to google and dont have the patience to wait for the internet to tell me about them here. Its just toooooo slow. Okay well I dont have much else to say. OH - other than I literally have not been shopping once since I have been there, so dont be mad if I dont get you anything as a souvenir.

That is all.

As Promised...

... here is the story of my experience in Poços de Caldas.

I arrived midday on Friday. We spent most of the day just walking around the downtown area and the park. My cousin Rogerio took me to see my uncle (or former uncle? Theyre divorced, how does that work?). He was nothing like how I remember him. He lost a lot of weight and looked like one of those guys that never got over the fact they werent in a successful rock band. Anyway, the conversation was very candid between him and Rogerio, and all of a sudden, the topic became my other cousin's virginity. When she finally showed up (with her boyfriend) he did give her a little talk about it. Seriously, wrong place wrong time. You didnt have to understand what was being said to sense the tension in the room. Later that night, my aunt took me to dinner with her friends. One of her friends has a daughter my age who knows English. We had a great conversation so I was really glad that I went.

My cousin Rogerio didnt have as many hilarious English quotes this time. He actually baffled me. I cant understand him as a person. He is so proud of his Disney DVD collection. He showed it to me, and then tried to show me again 3 or 4 times. He asks me the same questions over and over and over but I cannot figure out why. Is it simply because he cannot remember? Or is there a deeper problem? For example he asks me hourly if I like the Lion King. He burned me Harry Potter DVDs (I got excited here) in Portuguese (and lost it here). So he asked me what Disney DVDs I wanted burned. I told him the Lion King and the Little Mermaid. He told me to pick 3 more so I could have 5. I did. He ended up burning the Return of Jafar for me. And thats it. At dinner, he asked me if I like Coke because he was going shopping and wanted to know what drinks to buy. I said I did, so he bought me a 2 Liter Coke. But today, he asked me again if I like Coke as if he didnt recall ever buying the Coke the day before. We have conversations, so I know he understands most of what Im saying, which makes the whole situation more confusing. He also decides to tell me secrets about himself. Im virtually a stranger so that sort of blows my mind too. Although I suppose I am a safe bet since I dont even have the capacity to tell anyone close to him anything.

Last night we went to my aunt's friend's house, where the girl who spoke English lives. She invited her friend who also spoke English over. They are such nice girls and I learned a lot from them. They are also really interesting and had a lot to say which is obviously great for conversation. They ended up inviting me to go out with them after dinner. It was so much fun. I felt like a normal 19 year old again. We wanted to play pool but the place was really crowded so we didnt. We went to a restaraunt/pub type place, ate some food, and talked. I got back to my aunt's house around 2. I let myself in with my key, and went straight to bed. Of course now its like some joke with my aunt that I was out past like I dont know, 9. Like I am some wild girl who comes in late and plays pool at bars even though literally nothing happened other than myself having actual conversation with cool people. The only reason this makes me mad is because theyre going to tell my dad but forget that its a joke (they know reality) and then Im going to have to explain the real version.

Anyway, I am back in São João and things are going to settle down again. I watched some of Space Jam in Portuguese. I miss that movie. GOOOOOD times, the 90s. Good times.

More Info to come

Hello everyone! I am in Poços de Caldas with my aunt and two cousins. It has been really nice so far and honestly a bit of a relief since my cousins know English. I know that it sounds so lame, but just having a conversation with someone really brightens my day because I haven't done it in so long. You wouldnt think that you could take speech for granted, but you definitely can. Oh and I definitely have stories to tell regarding my cousins, but I feel awkward typing them up in their living room so those will have to wait.
I am currently reading 1776 by David McCullough. As usual, his writing is amazing and detailed. Everytime I pick up a good history book I feel like there is so much more I want to read. Its such a pity that the library system in Salt Lake is so terrible or else I probably would be reading a lot more interesting things.
I am completely blanking out right now. I cant think of a single thing I was going to write about. SIIIIIIIIIIIIGH. Okay well I will have more information soon regarding this little trip to Poços and probably some more interesting anecdotes. Tchao!

Using the Internet While I Have It

The place I am working out at has chickens and rabbits roaming around everywhere. They seriously just walk around wherever they want. Today, I went into the locker room and there was a huge rabbit sitting in there. It was bigger than my cats, white with grey ears. Its kinda cute. I started wishing that it would lead me to Wonderland or something.

My aunt Rosali and my Uncle Marcio have been here for the past few days. Marcio is hilarious. Yesterday he pretended to be Clint Eastwood and ran around pretending to shoot Cherokees. SOOO funny. Rosali has been really really nice to me too. But the company has given my grandma some extra confidence that Im not sure how to react to. Sometimes she mentions my mom, and I cant tell if shes making fun of her or not. But they always end up laughing afterwards. Obviously, I take the cynical view of things, assume they are making fun or her, and take offense. If they are making fun or her, that is possibly the rudest thing EVER.

Im starting to get worried becayse I am so close to being done with Wicked. Its a pretty good book, but I do prefer the musical storyline. Its a little less intense. Anyways, my point is, after Wicked, I only have 2 books left! There arent any bookstores that sell English books soooooo I guess I will just have to read slower, considering I have 2 weeks left.

Something that has been super super wonderful is sleeping! I know that sounds awful, but its true. I have a couple of dreams per night and theyre usually really awesome. Ive been friends with Cher, Kathy Griffin, and the cast of the West Wing. I could deal with them as friends in real life! haha

Read Me!

Hello all! I hope everything is going well in the US or wherever you are. Things have certainly been interesting here. I wouldn't say that things are particularly exciting. In fact, things are rather predictable and routine. Occasionally though, I happen upon some gem of a story. I share this treasure chest with you.

So I have this cousin named Rogerio. My sister and I have wonderful memories of him asking us everyday "you like cat? you like dog?" and also breaking a chair just by sitting on it. So when I found out that I would be seeing him again, I wondered what delicious muffin basket he would deliver. He did ask me if I like cats and dogs, as if he didn't already know from asking me 600 times a day when I was here last time. His English has greatly improved beyond pet vocabulary since then so now he can ask me all about what I like, dislike, think and so on. I was being interviewed by him when this happened:
Rogerio: You think dog is sexy?
Me: Um...What?!
R: Why not?
M: um, thats not what that means...
R: What you like on men? Hair, eyes, smile?
M: Uhh...
R: I like fish.
(Me wide eyed)
R: You know, to eat. Hamburgers and pasta!
A comedian could not have timed it better.

I have recently begun to train with the local 17 and under volleyball team. They aren't very good, but it's really about getting back into volleyball for me. And to be honest, it's excellent entertainment. I'm like their pet. They all like to crowd around me and ask me questions. Strangely enough, the first question they always ask me is whether or not I have a boyfriend. I'm tempted to say yes, because I am curious about what their follow up questions are. That could get awkward QUICK. I think its also the cutest thing in the world when they try to speak English. When I leave, they get together and yell "BYEEEE!!" It's funny. One of the girls looks like Natalie Wood, and another girl kind of looks like if Cher's current plastic surgery face was born as a real person, grew up, and then gained 20 pounds. At one point today, I had to control myself from laughing because I thought to myself "I am playing volleyball with Natalie Wood and Cher!" Then I reminded myself that I am an old gay man and went about my business.

Speaking of old gay men, the other day in the grocery store, they were playing Memories from Cats over the loud speaker. I thought that was semi hilarious.

My Portuguese lessons have been going pretty well. My teacher isn't bad by any means, but she did remind me of how lucky I have been with the language teachers I have had. I don't care what anyone says, Mr. Dury was a great teacher. And I don't even have to convince anyone about Hans or Kruse because everyone knows they personify the bomb diggity.

Brazilians make a common mistake when it comes to speaking English. You see, in Portuguese, the letter "R" is pronounced like an "H." So they often incorrectly apply this rule to English words. My favorite mistakes have been: Head Sox, the Hamones, I'm Heady, Handom, and Helatives. I'll keep helatives. I like that.

I'm getting better at understading Portuguese. Practicing with the volleyball team helps, in addition to the lessons obviously. Ironically, my Grandma is the hardest person to understand. She sort of has that natural, old person slur when she speaks, and also she makes no sense. I swear to god, sometimes she mumbles nonsense words and then waves her hands around in the air. She also really enjoys telling people that I don't speak Portuguese. I appreciate it sometimes. You know, if someone talks to me, she steps in and lets them know. But sometimes, she literally tells strangers for no reason, which is a little frustrating because I like to blend in as much as possible. And occasionally, these moments have consequences. I'll give you two examples, both from the grocery store.

One time, we were buying, I don't know...yogurt? And she asked what kind I wanted or something, but I wasn't sure how to respond. She was frustrated, so she turned to the lady standing, or should I say hunching, next to us and said "She doesn't speak Portuguese (NONSENSE WORDS)." I swear to god, this woman was the escaped Hunchback of Notre Dame and was not all there if you know what I mean. She just turned and creepily stared at me. Thanks Grandma. I wanted yogurt, not Quasimodo's affection.

The next situation was in the bread section. In Brazil, they have bread specialists who help you pick out every kind of fresh bread. I don't even remember why she tolf this girl I am American, but this girl proceeded to yelll across the entire store to her friend in the deli section that I speak English. It seemed like everyone just stopped and looked at me. Apparently her friend knew a little English and she wanted to know if she wanted to try it out on me. Her friend was smart enough to be embarassed by being addressed in front of the whole store. I too jumped on her humiliated bandwagon as the token foreigner everyone now had license to stare at.

In all seriousness though, being here definitely has its downsides. In Salt Lake City, I was sort of upset because I didn't have any friends around. Here I have the same problem, only the town is a quarter of the size and I've added a language barrier. It's not easy and certainly not action packed. Whenever I think about Wellesley, I smile. Being away from everyone has really made me appreciate the little things. I can't tell you how much I would give just to sit down with a couple of friends and watch a movie or have a good laugh. Thankfully, I've had one savior. It should come as no surprise to anyone that it's Liz Lemon. They show 30 Rock here! In English! So every night at 10, I get a little taste of what I miss so much: good laughs and America. Okay wow that sounded so corny, but seriously. America is awesome. We often forget how much that country has done for us because we're so focused on what's wrong with it.

It's also kind of weird being here with my Grandma. My dad says she wants a relationship with me, but for some reason that fact is hard for me to accept. I met her a couple of times 10 years ago, but I hardly remember a thing about it. I remember Rogerio (obviously) and I remember thinking that the Christ the Redeemer statue would fall down because it was too big, but that's it really. In the 10 years since then, I haven't heard a word from her. No happy birthday, no say hi to her for me. Nothing. I'm sure she knows all about me from my dad, but the lack of communication really strikes me. I admit that I didn't communicate either, but that just begins the argument of whether the child is responsible for that sort of thing in the grandparent relationship dynamic. In other words, I feel like I dont know her at all and I dont know how possible it is to really get to know someone with a language barrier. By the way, my dad told me her foot was hurting so I should massage it. UMM Mgross. I wouldnt even do that for a parent. Does that make me a bad person, or just hygienically sane?

I hope you all are doing well! Leave me a message on facebook so I can hear all about your lovely exciting lives. Miss you all!

ps: I accidentally left my itunes on once while we were out so when we came back, Gay Fish from South Park was playing really loud. Its a funny song, but thank god they dont speak English or else they would have been welcomed home with (pardon the language) "have an orgy in your motherfucking fish tank." Oops. hahahah

Something to do

Wow. I have been posting like crazy! It must be so boring for all one of my readers to read this because I am literally writing down anything that comes to my mind. Theres nothing else for me to do but read and draw, which can get tiresome after a while. Here are some of my recent observations:

1. I feel like a huge nerd because I just heard a waltz playing in the background on tv and knew what it was. Emporers Waltz by Strauss if you were wondering.

2. Id hate to burst everyones bubble, but Brazilian women really arent that pretty. I came here expecting to be overshadowed by all these gorgeous women. I think the average American is more attractive than the average Brazilian. Most people here are overweight, but insist on wearing tight belly shirts or, when at the beach, thongs. Huh.

3. It is a universal fact that old people cannot drive.

4. Half of Shakespeare's stories are about the same thing. However, its nice to know that not being able to recognize someone in costume goes all the way back to the Elizabethan period. Now you dont have to feel bad for not recognizing Superman, Metropolis. Congrats.

5. I want Paul the Octopus as a pet so that he will tell me my future and win me money. Also, we should all consider him the real winner of the world cup, considering he technically had a 100% track record, which is more than Spain. And he is awesome.

6. I AM BORED.

7. David Sedaris is a genius. Everyone should read his books. Thank you Katie Middleton for encouraging me to do so in the first place. I just finished "When you are engulfed in flames" and lerved it.

8. Typing on these Brazilian keyboards is so annoying!!! Why is the apostrophy in the top left hand corner?!?!?

9. I am just trying to reach 10 because its my VB number and some of my favorite football players number and its just a nice round number.

10. I have my first Portuguese class tomorrow!!! Whoaoaoaoaoaooaoaoaoa. I think I will also buy some goggles so that I can do laps in the new work out place Im going to.

Okayy well I am sufficiently OUT of anything worth writing. So if youre super bored, like me, contact me! Write on my wall! Leave me a comment! Lets be friends! YAY! bye.

Paranoia in Translation

Its not uncommon to feel like people are talking about you, or maybe staring at you. This paranoia is heightened 5 times over when youre in a foreign country and you have no idea what anyones talking about. Two people could be sitting right next to you saying "Can you believe the nerve of that girl?" or "Look at the way she got dressed this morning. Especially ugly today Id say." And you would have no idea! Despite however many words you pick up in the conversation that tell you they arent talking about you, the nagging feeling still exists.

I know for sure that whenever I see my Grandma shes talking about me. She thinks I dont eat enough, she cant get the stain from the paint I spilled on my pants off. I gave up trying to explain that its acryllic so it wont come off, and I dont plan on wearing those sweatpants anywhere important anyways. When she talks to me, I dont understand a word she says. When I tell her I dont understand she speaks slower and slower until eventually I have to wait a minute for the words to come out of her mouth. I dont want to be a sass, but I really wish I could just say in Portuguese "I can hear you! Pick a different word that I know!" After a while, she cant possibly say the word slower than she has, so she resorts to hand motions. Those usually dont help though because her hand motions all look remarkably similar. She waves her hands about her face, like a child begging for Tinkerbell to come back to life. Sometimes she blinks her eyes which can mean either tired, hungry, cold, or hot. I guess based on the situation, or I just say yes or no, depending on how Im feeling at the moment.

I can be slightly reassured though, because I know she probably feels the same way if she hears me speak in English. For that reason, I cut down on English a lot, if not totally. But since I cant speak Portuguese, Ive resorted to a series of Helen Keller like grunts. They seem to get the job done. I point at the juice and give an inquiring tone to my non-word and suddenly, Boom. Someones handing the juice to me. This kind of makes me feel more like a Caliban than I would prefer, but thats alright for now.

I am currently watching the world cup final and have decided that my second favorite thing about this world cup (behind Paul the Octopus) is Puyol's hair.
Spain is controlling the game right now. I wont deny the sinister part of my brain the joy of seeing the Netherlands frustrated after beating Brazil. This game is pretty aggressive though...30 minutes in and maybe 5 yellow cards!

Anyway, hopefully soon you will hear more from me and I am even more hopeful that I will hear from you!

A Sedaris-esque Name Dissection

I've never liked my last name. It's too close to the word custodian. In the back of my mind, I felt like the custodian connection was actually a prophecy. Surely, I would be destined to be a janitor for the rest of my life, just as someone with the last name Black should expect to be black one day. Although no one ever made the connection to my face, I always felt like that was the joke behind my back, that the people who didn't like me gathered together and made infinite puns about myself collecting mounds of trash and being it too. Maybe no one ever said it to my face because it's too obvious. Have I surrounded myself with creative people, or with people who are actually too nice to say something like that? Probably creative.

My recent trip to Brazil, however, has taught me to respect my last name in ways I hadn't anticipated. The first reason is rather pretentious, but I won't pretend I don't enjoy it. My last name has an accent! It's Custódio! What was once a lowly janitor has blossomed into a jungle medicine woman or a Spanish bull fighter! I know it's minor, but I enjoy knowing that all this time, I was right to say CustAHdio and not CusTOEdio. The next time someone says that, I will certainly point out that there is an accent, you ignorant, ignorant person.

The next reason I began to love my name comes from the Portuguese dictionary. According to my pocket version, "custódio" is an adjective meaning "guardian angel." I don't this is amazing for religious reasons. Rather than a normal angel stalking people to make sure they're okay, I imagine something out of an apocalypse movie, where humanity's last hope lies in a ripped, fallen angel with a firey sword and wicked catchphrases.

Despite being bored to death every Sunday for 17 years of my life at a church of the same name, St. Joan of Arc is my favorite saint. She exemplifies what it is to be courageous and to do what you believe is right with any means necessary. She's not one of those saints who was just lucky and had toast that happened to burn with Jesus' face on it. She cut off her hair and rode into battle. She is my real life example of how I picture a guardian angel.

I'd like to think that if guardian angels exist, she would be mine, engaging in a constant, epic battle between good and evil all around me. Much better than a janitor sweeping up your tracks.