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