Learning a new language: Beneficial? Yes. Practical? Yes. Mind-changing? Most likely.
As my knowledge of the Portuguese language has expanded, so has my overall knowledge of the Brazilian "mentality."
According to Zamira Derbisheva, a doctor and professor of Philological sciences at Kyrgyz-Turkish Manas University, "It is well known that human culture, social behavior and thinking cannot exist without language. Being a social and national identity, and a means of human communication, language cannot help bearing imprints of ethnic and cultural values as well as the norms of behavior of a given language community. All is reflected in the vocabulary of a language. But it should be noted that the grammatical structure of a language more exactly reflects the mentality of a nation as it is closer to thinking. 'While the number of words in a language represents the volume of its world, the grammatical structure of a language gives an idea of the inner organization of thinking'." Therefore, it's not just the language that I'm picking up as I study Portuguese, it's also a bit of the mentality of the people who speak it.
In one of my classes, we talked about languages and their terms for color. Some languages have color terms for only white and black. For example, there are 7 languages in New Guinea that only use white and black to describe color. There are six African languages, though, that have their color wheel terminology extended to white, black, red and green. Then there are 2 southeast Asian languages who have their color wheel terminology open to 11 terms, like our color wheel, which includes the basic colors of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, brown, gray, black and white.
It's not that the languages with less words for the basic colors than our own are wrong... it's that they think differently. According to the Sapir-Wharf hypothesis, each language and culture expresses a unique world view by its particular way of slicing up reality into named categories. They don't need as many words for colors because the culture is different and therefore the need for the different categories for color are different.
A similar idea is brought up with the Eskimo words for snow. Eskimo languages have vast numbers of words for snow, many more than the English language. Does that mean that the English language is inferior to the Eskimo languages? No. It means that we have different needs for categories and, with the way we think and live, we don't need as many categories for snow.
English represents the culture and ideas of the people who created it. Portuguese does the same. Yes, I am learning a lot from living here in Brazil, but the thing I don't often think about is how much I am growing from learning the language. And how much it changes the way I think.
And these differences in language thinking have begun to influence the way I share my ideas in English as well. In Portuguese, you don't answer a "Yes" or "No" question with a "Yes" or "No." Instead, you answer it with the verb. If someone asks in Portuguese, "Are you a student at PUC?" my answer would be an "I am," not a "Yes." If someone wonders, "Do you like pizza?" I would answer "I like." If they question, "Do you study on Thursdays?" I would answer, "I don't study, No." This seemed strange to me for the first months living here but now it is normal, and it shows a small difference in thinking between Portuguese speakers and English speakers.
Yes, my experience in Brazil has changed me. I will never be the very same person I was when I left the United States. But it hasn't just changed me in the obvious ways, in the ways we can pinpoint. It has changed me in ways we can't see or count. It's amazing to think that I am beginning to better understand the Brazilian mentality through language- and it makes me wonder how many other little things are changing me.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
The Parents are Here!
**Note** This blog is a bit late but I didn't want to spend time writing it while my parents were here... I wanted to spend my spare time with them! I will get pictures up as soon as they send them to me (they have them all!)
March 17- St. Patrick's Day- was the big day. After nine long months, my parents reached Brazil to see me. At noon, I met them at the hotel where they were staying. It was so close to my apartment that we could see my apartment building from the window.
Day 1- Wednesday, March 17. We took a tour around Perdizes (the neighborhood I live in). I showed my parents my university PUC, where I take my Portuguese classes at CIEE, my gym, we ate at a traditional Brazilian restaurant for lunch, and finished with a walk in the crazy Agua Branca park before I ran off to work. At night, we finished the day with a delicious Brazilian pizza and an awesome chocolate pizza for dessert
Day 2- Thursday, March 18. The Soccer Museum had a free day that Thursday so we headed to the Pacaembu stadium and took a tour through the museum. It was a very good museum and kept us entertained for a couple of hours. We hiked back 45 minutes to my apartment where we met my host mom (my parents' first meeting with her!) and we went to the weekly fresh foods market. We ate pastels (fried pastry stuffed with cheese and another topping) before heading off to buy our groceries for the week. I ran off to class and then met up with Mom to go shopping! We found a couple of good shirts for her and then Mom, Dad and I headed over to my host family's house where the three of us dined with my host mom, host sister, and the other girl who lives with us. It was a good night.
Day 3- Friday, March 19. I had to work that day so Mom and Dad flew to Rio de Janeiro and took a tour of a favela, a Brazilian slum. I took a bus to Rio that left Sao Paulo a little after midnight and arrived in Rio 6 hours later.
Day 4- Saturday March 20. I met up with Mom and Dad at the hotel and we went for breakfast before heading out on a tour of Rio. We first saw some scenic views from Chinese Viewpoint and several other lookouts. We also went into a forest, the largest urban forest in the world, and hiked a bit into a waterfall. After the forest, we drove up to the Cristo Redentor, the most famous tourist attraction in Brazil, and took plenty of pictures with the guant Christ statue overlooking Rio. We finished off the tour by seeing the Arches of Lapa and the steps of Lapa. We spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach before heading out to eat.
Day 5- Sunday, March 21. MoWe spent the morning walking along the beach and then headed back on the 7 hour bus ride back to Sao Paulo.
Day 6- Monday March 22. A day in the historical center of town. We headed downtown via the bus and two metros. We first headed to the Santander Bank building. It is a 30-something floor building on the top of a hill so it looks out over all of Sao Paulo. We could see everything. The city ust lay all around us... huge and ever-continuing. In a city of 20 million people, there was certainly no end in sight to the buildings. Afterward, we walked through 25 de marco, a famous street in Brazil where you can purchase almost anything at a cheaper price. You can bargain, you can buy off the street, and you can certainly collect your fair share of illegal DVDS and fake purses there. Next we went to Mercado Municipal, a huge Market that sells fresh meats, fruits, nuts, oils and other items. It was the starting point of Sao Paulo when the city first began selling coffee beans and is now a huge market for the finest, most expensive fresh products in Sao Paulo. Mom and Dad tried the famous Mortadela sandwich while they were there. While in the area, we saw the monastery of Sao Bento and then headed to Praca de Se and saw the Cathedral of Se. We headed back so I could go to class. It was a busy day!
Day 7- Tuesday, March 23. It was a busy day of work and class for me. Mom and Dad headed to the beach an hour away from Sao Paulo. I've never been to this beach but from what I heard, it was beautiful and a great day. We met at night for dinner before I headed off to some more class.
Day 8- Wednesday, March 24. The final day. The week was coming to an end all to quickly. We met after my class to go to Parque do Ibirapuera, a beautiful park about an hour from my house. We took a series of buses to get there and had a picnic lunch and then headed to the Afro-Brasilian Museum. All to quickly, it was time to head back. We arrived at the hotel, packed up the taxi and I said my goodbyes. My parents were going home.
While the trip was all too short it was definitely a good week with my parents. We were able to do a lot of things and it was great to see them again!
March 17- St. Patrick's Day- was the big day. After nine long months, my parents reached Brazil to see me. At noon, I met them at the hotel where they were staying. It was so close to my apartment that we could see my apartment building from the window.
Day 1- Wednesday, March 17. We took a tour around Perdizes (the neighborhood I live in). I showed my parents my university PUC, where I take my Portuguese classes at CIEE, my gym, we ate at a traditional Brazilian restaurant for lunch, and finished with a walk in the crazy Agua Branca park before I ran off to work. At night, we finished the day with a delicious Brazilian pizza and an awesome chocolate pizza for dessert
Day 2- Thursday, March 18. The Soccer Museum had a free day that Thursday so we headed to the Pacaembu stadium and took a tour through the museum. It was a very good museum and kept us entertained for a couple of hours. We hiked back 45 minutes to my apartment where we met my host mom (my parents' first meeting with her!) and we went to the weekly fresh foods market. We ate pastels (fried pastry stuffed with cheese and another topping) before heading off to buy our groceries for the week. I ran off to class and then met up with Mom to go shopping! We found a couple of good shirts for her and then Mom, Dad and I headed over to my host family's house where the three of us dined with my host mom, host sister, and the other girl who lives with us. It was a good night.
Day 3- Friday, March 19. I had to work that day so Mom and Dad flew to Rio de Janeiro and took a tour of a favela, a Brazilian slum. I took a bus to Rio that left Sao Paulo a little after midnight and arrived in Rio 6 hours later.
Day 4- Saturday March 20. I met up with Mom and Dad at the hotel and we went for breakfast before heading out on a tour of Rio. We first saw some scenic views from Chinese Viewpoint and several other lookouts. We also went into a forest, the largest urban forest in the world, and hiked a bit into a waterfall. After the forest, we drove up to the Cristo Redentor, the most famous tourist attraction in Brazil, and took plenty of pictures with the guant Christ statue overlooking Rio. We finished off the tour by seeing the Arches of Lapa and the steps of Lapa. We spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach before heading out to eat.
Day 5- Sunday, March 21. MoWe spent the morning walking along the beach and then headed back on the 7 hour bus ride back to Sao Paulo.
Day 6- Monday March 22. A day in the historical center of town. We headed downtown via the bus and two metros. We first headed to the Santander Bank building. It is a 30-something floor building on the top of a hill so it looks out over all of Sao Paulo. We could see everything. The city ust lay all around us... huge and ever-continuing. In a city of 20 million people, there was certainly no end in sight to the buildings. Afterward, we walked through 25 de marco, a famous street in Brazil where you can purchase almost anything at a cheaper price. You can bargain, you can buy off the street, and you can certainly collect your fair share of illegal DVDS and fake purses there. Next we went to Mercado Municipal, a huge Market that sells fresh meats, fruits, nuts, oils and other items. It was the starting point of Sao Paulo when the city first began selling coffee beans and is now a huge market for the finest, most expensive fresh products in Sao Paulo. Mom and Dad tried the famous Mortadela sandwich while they were there. While in the area, we saw the monastery of Sao Bento and then headed to Praca de Se and saw the Cathedral of Se. We headed back so I could go to class. It was a busy day!
Day 7- Tuesday, March 23. It was a busy day of work and class for me. Mom and Dad headed to the beach an hour away from Sao Paulo. I've never been to this beach but from what I heard, it was beautiful and a great day. We met at night for dinner before I headed off to some more class.
Day 8- Wednesday, March 24. The final day. The week was coming to an end all to quickly. We met after my class to go to Parque do Ibirapuera, a beautiful park about an hour from my house. We took a series of buses to get there and had a picnic lunch and then headed to the Afro-Brasilian Museum. All to quickly, it was time to head back. We arrived at the hotel, packed up the taxi and I said my goodbyes. My parents were going home.
While the trip was all too short it was definitely a good week with my parents. We were able to do a lot of things and it was great to see them again!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Refections to "Paradise City"
This is it. This is the exact feeling I feel every time I think about the fact that I actually live in Brazil. It's been nine months since I left the U.S. and I can't believe my dream came true... and I can't believe how right it feels.
Something about tonight just puts everything together for me. It's 2:30 in the morning and the sounds of Guns and Roses playing live five minutes from my apartment in Sao Paulo are wafting (okay... more like blaring, but in a good way!) through my windows. Last night I saw the guitarist of Guns and Roses play live at the night club I went to. Tonight an even better treat, I can hear the live concert of the whole band. And something about seeing and hearing a band you love soothes the soul- it leaves you feeling happy, like it's meant to be. Somehow this 80s and 90s rock band leaves me soaring in the clouds.
And that's how I feel here in Brazil. I don't know why. People constantly ask and I can't explain it. Something was always missing in the U.S. and I never knew what it was. A part of me just wasn't there. But here, in Brazil, I feel whole; the pieces are finally together. It's hard that I have to be so far away from the family, friends and places I love to finally feel so at home, but that's unfortunately the reality.
As the lyrics to "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" and then "Paradise City" sweep through my apartment, I feel at ease. I am so happy here, so very happy. I feel like I'm finally home.
"Take me down to the paradise city
Where the grass is green
And the girls are pretty
Oh, won't you please take me home"
Something about tonight just puts everything together for me. It's 2:30 in the morning and the sounds of Guns and Roses playing live five minutes from my apartment in Sao Paulo are wafting (okay... more like blaring, but in a good way!) through my windows. Last night I saw the guitarist of Guns and Roses play live at the night club I went to. Tonight an even better treat, I can hear the live concert of the whole band. And something about seeing and hearing a band you love soothes the soul- it leaves you feeling happy, like it's meant to be. Somehow this 80s and 90s rock band leaves me soaring in the clouds.
And that's how I feel here in Brazil. I don't know why. People constantly ask and I can't explain it. Something was always missing in the U.S. and I never knew what it was. A part of me just wasn't there. But here, in Brazil, I feel whole; the pieces are finally together. It's hard that I have to be so far away from the family, friends and places I love to finally feel so at home, but that's unfortunately the reality.
As the lyrics to "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" and then "Paradise City" sweep through my apartment, I feel at ease. I am so happy here, so very happy. I feel like I'm finally home.
"Take me down to the paradise city
Where the grass is green
And the girls are pretty
Oh, won't you please take me home"
The Kindness of the South American Stranger
There seems to be a gap between the image of the South American stranger and the reality. On the news, in the movies, and from the stories, we are constantly confronted with the idea that third world countries such as Brazil and Argentina are full of crooks and criminals. People have little so they are always ready to take advantage of anyone they can. If there is a wallet, they will take it. If there is a single woman, they will rob her. If it is a dark night, they will take advantage of anyone coming near them.
And yes, of course these images are based somewhere in reality. As with all places, you have to be careful. Car theft isn't uncommon here, people do get robbed at night and of course there are always watchful eyes waiting to take any unwatched belongings. But the people committing these acts are far and few between, the true minority. The South American stranger, surprisingly, is the complete opposite. Somehow, amidst the poverty and sadness of many of the lives here in Brazil, the people seem to rise above their conditions and become extraordinary individuals.
What has amazed me throughout my travels in South America is the kindness of the South American stranger. It began on the bus when I took note of this phenomenom. The bus is packed with people hurrying home from work and there is little space to stand in the aisle, let alone walk through the crowd to find a space to stand. When I was standing three people deep in an aisle possibly meant for one person, a man seated next to me offered to hold my bag sine my hands were busy trying to hold on to the bus handles for dear life. A bit skeptical but feeling more than just a little crammed and unbalanced on the bus, I took advantage of his offer. With my watchful eyes on him the entire time, he folded over the top of my purse so it wouldn't be open and went on to read a book. As I went to leave, he happily handed me my bag without a problem. Now, I see that this is a normal offer, happening nearly every day as I head through rush hour on the buses on my way to work.
I was again struck by surprise when I would ask for help on the street. Most people would stop to give me detailed directions or find someone who could help me. If I didn't know a street name, any stranger walking on the street would at least try to help me. And the stores are the same way. I went to Walmart in search of paper bags. Who in the world hasn't seen a paper bag at some point in their life? Well, apparently Brazilians. I searched and searched and searched. There were no paper bags. I asked an employee for help and he found three other employees to help me as I described what the paper bags were like. Yes, I was out of luck, but I was surprised by how readily these strangers jumped to help. And when I go dress shopping, the employees tell me what they truly think of the clothes saying, "That makes you look so thin," "That pattern does not look good on you," and "I prefer this dress over this dress... that first one doesn't flatter you." It's not about the sales, it's about helping.
But the remarkableness that struck me so much I had to blog about it was a story from a friend staying in Argentina. Unfortunately, she hadn't watched her backpack closely and her money was taken. Asking around, she found enough people to give her change that she could pay for the bus fare back home. She got on her bus but, unfortunately, later found out that there are two similar buses and she had gotten on the wrong one and was taken outside of Buenos Aires to a very poor part of town with no money and no idea where she was. She began to cry and a man on the side of the road stopped to help her. He deciphered her scrambled Spanish and felt bad so he found a taxi driver and explained to the taxi driver her situation. The taxi driver also felt bad and took her all the way to her home for free. Never once in the U.S. has someone paid for my taxi when I've been lost.
The warmth and willingness to help of the South American stranger never ceases to amaze me. The people are truly open and ready to help those in need. Yes, I must always be paying attention and have to know that there could be dangers around, but I can't be suspicious of the South American people as a whole. Most have hearts of gold and are ready to help whenever they are needed. For me, it's been an interesting journey to see how the stereotypes I've heard about compare to the truth and from what I've discovered, the South American Stranger tends to be the Good Samaritan Neighbor.
And yes, of course these images are based somewhere in reality. As with all places, you have to be careful. Car theft isn't uncommon here, people do get robbed at night and of course there are always watchful eyes waiting to take any unwatched belongings. But the people committing these acts are far and few between, the true minority. The South American stranger, surprisingly, is the complete opposite. Somehow, amidst the poverty and sadness of many of the lives here in Brazil, the people seem to rise above their conditions and become extraordinary individuals.
What has amazed me throughout my travels in South America is the kindness of the South American stranger. It began on the bus when I took note of this phenomenom. The bus is packed with people hurrying home from work and there is little space to stand in the aisle, let alone walk through the crowd to find a space to stand. When I was standing three people deep in an aisle possibly meant for one person, a man seated next to me offered to hold my bag sine my hands were busy trying to hold on to the bus handles for dear life. A bit skeptical but feeling more than just a little crammed and unbalanced on the bus, I took advantage of his offer. With my watchful eyes on him the entire time, he folded over the top of my purse so it wouldn't be open and went on to read a book. As I went to leave, he happily handed me my bag without a problem. Now, I see that this is a normal offer, happening nearly every day as I head through rush hour on the buses on my way to work.
I was again struck by surprise when I would ask for help on the street. Most people would stop to give me detailed directions or find someone who could help me. If I didn't know a street name, any stranger walking on the street would at least try to help me. And the stores are the same way. I went to Walmart in search of paper bags. Who in the world hasn't seen a paper bag at some point in their life? Well, apparently Brazilians. I searched and searched and searched. There were no paper bags. I asked an employee for help and he found three other employees to help me as I described what the paper bags were like. Yes, I was out of luck, but I was surprised by how readily these strangers jumped to help. And when I go dress shopping, the employees tell me what they truly think of the clothes saying, "That makes you look so thin," "That pattern does not look good on you," and "I prefer this dress over this dress... that first one doesn't flatter you." It's not about the sales, it's about helping.
But the remarkableness that struck me so much I had to blog about it was a story from a friend staying in Argentina. Unfortunately, she hadn't watched her backpack closely and her money was taken. Asking around, she found enough people to give her change that she could pay for the bus fare back home. She got on her bus but, unfortunately, later found out that there are two similar buses and she had gotten on the wrong one and was taken outside of Buenos Aires to a very poor part of town with no money and no idea where she was. She began to cry and a man on the side of the road stopped to help her. He deciphered her scrambled Spanish and felt bad so he found a taxi driver and explained to the taxi driver her situation. The taxi driver also felt bad and took her all the way to her home for free. Never once in the U.S. has someone paid for my taxi when I've been lost.
The warmth and willingness to help of the South American stranger never ceases to amaze me. The people are truly open and ready to help those in need. Yes, I must always be paying attention and have to know that there could be dangers around, but I can't be suspicious of the South American people as a whole. Most have hearts of gold and are ready to help whenever they are needed. For me, it's been an interesting journey to see how the stereotypes I've heard about compare to the truth and from what I've discovered, the South American Stranger tends to be the Good Samaritan Neighbor.
Friday, March 5, 2010
What was I Thinking?
Being out of the U.S. for over eight months now means I thought I had a pretty good handle on things. Lately, there haven't been too many new experiences thrown my way that actually shock me and leave me pondering, "What in the world was I thinking...?" or even more commonly, "What in the world are THEY thinking...?" But two days ago, Wednesday, that exact pondering occurred.
I took my friend Nikki to Mercado Minicipal and 25 de Marco. 25 de Marco is a very popular street in Sao Paulo where you ca purchase things dirt cheap from vendors right off the street. Yes, the products are usually fake, illegal or stolen, but it's fun to be able to buy DVDS for 2 for 2.50 USD or 8 pairs of fake Nike socks for 6 USD. I've gotten a few fake purses there for affordable prices and picked up other various things throughout my time here in Brazil. It's a fun place to take guests so Nikki and I went.
After 25 de Marco, we headed to Mercado Municipal. This is one of the most beautiful indoor markets I have ever seen in the heart of Sao Paulo. There are stands of the most exotic fresh fruits you can imagine. Fresh meat cuts hang down the rows of meat stands. Fresh cheeses and olives sit out waiting to be purchased. Chocolate is being spun around and made in front of you so that you can purchase cups of fresh Brazilian fruits covered with the delicious chocolaty syrup. It's heaven.
We started off at the market by eating one of the world famous Mortadela sandwiches there. Well, Nikki ate it; since I'm a vegetarian I went for a awesome sun dried tomato and fresh cheese sandwich. Then wandered around the fruit stands. One man gave us some of the most delicious flavors of fruits to try. I tried to most exotic fruits I could imagine. Absolutely incredible. And, after eating so many samples of fruits, Nikki and I decided it was only just to buy a fruit each. She bought an absolutely delicious yellow fruit with white and black specks inside. I bought a very ripe, delicious-looking mango. The vendor wrapped up the purchases (which, in Brazil means that once it's wrapped you've purchased it. No backing out) and weighed the fruits. My mango was 18 USD. I'm sure my face was something to be seen. Sticker shock was not what I was imagining when I agreed to buy a mango. But, the man explained that as it was wrapped and packaged, I had to buy it. I paid and left.
Now, on my counter, I have the most expensive mango I will ever eat. I think today will be the day I will indulge. I'm not sure it will be worth 18 USD, but hopefully I can at least wipe the cost out of my mind and just enjoy the fruit. I do have to admit, though, this purchase left me wondering... "What was I thinking...?"
I took my friend Nikki to Mercado Minicipal and 25 de Marco. 25 de Marco is a very popular street in Sao Paulo where you ca purchase things dirt cheap from vendors right off the street. Yes, the products are usually fake, illegal or stolen, but it's fun to be able to buy DVDS for 2 for 2.50 USD or 8 pairs of fake Nike socks for 6 USD. I've gotten a few fake purses there for affordable prices and picked up other various things throughout my time here in Brazil. It's a fun place to take guests so Nikki and I went.
After 25 de Marco, we headed to Mercado Municipal. This is one of the most beautiful indoor markets I have ever seen in the heart of Sao Paulo. There are stands of the most exotic fresh fruits you can imagine. Fresh meat cuts hang down the rows of meat stands. Fresh cheeses and olives sit out waiting to be purchased. Chocolate is being spun around and made in front of you so that you can purchase cups of fresh Brazilian fruits covered with the delicious chocolaty syrup. It's heaven.
We started off at the market by eating one of the world famous Mortadela sandwiches there. Well, Nikki ate it; since I'm a vegetarian I went for a awesome sun dried tomato and fresh cheese sandwich. Then wandered around the fruit stands. One man gave us some of the most delicious flavors of fruits to try. I tried to most exotic fruits I could imagine. Absolutely incredible. And, after eating so many samples of fruits, Nikki and I decided it was only just to buy a fruit each. She bought an absolutely delicious yellow fruit with white and black specks inside. I bought a very ripe, delicious-looking mango. The vendor wrapped up the purchases (which, in Brazil means that once it's wrapped you've purchased it. No backing out) and weighed the fruits. My mango was 18 USD. I'm sure my face was something to be seen. Sticker shock was not what I was imagining when I agreed to buy a mango. But, the man explained that as it was wrapped and packaged, I had to buy it. I paid and left.
Now, on my counter, I have the most expensive mango I will ever eat. I think today will be the day I will indulge. I'm not sure it will be worth 18 USD, but hopefully I can at least wipe the cost out of my mind and just enjoy the fruit. I do have to admit, though, this purchase left me wondering... "What was I thinking...?"
Back at being Busy
I've always loved to be busy. In college, I always had three clubs, work at the nursing home, work at the bakery, activities with friends, various campus events and... of course... classes and studying. Here, though, my first month back in Brazil after traveling was a bit slow. My classes were irregular, Carnival meant the city shut down, my English students wanted to wait until after Carnival to continue classes and my university here has no extra-curriculars.
However, I'm finally back to being busy. My first semester, I gave private English classes to nine different students throughout the week. As it's a new semester, most of my students could not continue and I was in search for employment.
Eager to finally be busy again with SOMETHING to do during the days (and have a little cash on hand, of course) I put up free ads online. Suddenly, though, an overload of employment is what I found. People from all over Sao Paulo were asking for me to teach them. I was contacted by business men and language schools, university students and international companies. And, thank goodness, I now have a busy schedule again.
I received a job teaching English for DHL, the American shipping company located a half hour from my house. Now, every night of the week, I am teaching group and individual English lessons there. During the days I have four or five other students to work with once or twice a week privately. And, finally, I am working with an English language company making recordings of my voice for langauge CDs and other materials.
As the semester continues, I might become overwhelmed. At this point, I'm hoping that doesn't happen, but we'll see. Now that I've already been teaching English classes for eight months, the lessons come very easy for me to prepare. For now, I'm content to know that I'm out and about meeting Brazilians and keeping busy instead of being bored at home.
However, I'm finally back to being busy. My first semester, I gave private English classes to nine different students throughout the week. As it's a new semester, most of my students could not continue and I was in search for employment.
Eager to finally be busy again with SOMETHING to do during the days (and have a little cash on hand, of course) I put up free ads online. Suddenly, though, an overload of employment is what I found. People from all over Sao Paulo were asking for me to teach them. I was contacted by business men and language schools, university students and international companies. And, thank goodness, I now have a busy schedule again.
I received a job teaching English for DHL, the American shipping company located a half hour from my house. Now, every night of the week, I am teaching group and individual English lessons there. During the days I have four or five other students to work with once or twice a week privately. And, finally, I am working with an English language company making recordings of my voice for langauge CDs and other materials.
As the semester continues, I might become overwhelmed. At this point, I'm hoping that doesn't happen, but we'll see. Now that I've already been teaching English classes for eight months, the lessons come very easy for me to prepare. For now, I'm content to know that I'm out and about meeting Brazilians and keeping busy instead of being bored at home.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
The joy of moving and shaking it
Today something struck me as surprisingly odd and new. I went to a morning class at the gym instead of an afternoon one since I am now working at my new job every night. I went to a trampoline class, which was supposedly the same trampoline class as during the afternoon. However, I've attended a hundred afternoon classes and never have I ever had as much fun.
The class was much more intense than usual, which was a lot of fun. Kicking up the speed = more calories burned for my time! However, in addition to just burning calories, we were having fun! In the afternoon classes, all of the songs are American songs with trampoline routines put to them. This morning, however, was mostly traditional Brazilian music (mostly forro) put to an exercise beat. With this traditional music, I saw the true colors of my gym companions finally show.
When the chorus came around for each of the songs, people began making traditional Brazilian dance moves, throwing in some samba shakes, forro twists and sertanejo beats. After a couple of songs, people started throwing in some claps at appropriate times until the entire class joined in in the beat. It was like a class I had never seen before. And, after I return to the U.S., may never see again.
At the gym classes in the U.S., people seem to be very self conscious of each and every move they make. Often when my kickboxing instructors would add claps to the beat, people would be too timid to clap. When my step aerobics instructors added fun twists to the steps, people would be too embarassed to twist.
But not here. In my dance class, we move it and shake it without a care. It may look silly, but we do it. In my abs class, the trainers might let out some hoots and hollers when the music gets good. It's not about what people think about you; it's about enjoying the music and the movement.
What I found most interesting, though, is that when my classes are to American music, the excitement fades. The Brazilians go along with the routine but don't add any jumps or bumps of their own to the beat. When traditional, recognized music comes on, though, the people take on a life of their own.
And I have seen this boldness to Brazilian beats come out in so many other ways throughout Brazil too. At a concert I went to with Lowell and Catherine, there was samba music playing. Some people jumped right out on the floor and danced samba around the room. The rest of the crowd watched with smiles or clapped along. During Carnival, the people didn't simply watch the bloco Lowell and I participated in. Instead the entire crowd poured into the street to sing and dance along.
It seems there is something wonderfully freeing about not being self-conscious about moving and shaking it. The Brazilian people have so much fun just letting go and participating in the music. I urge you to be bold and try the same next time you have the opportunity. At your next parade, live concert, or church event, just sing, dance or clap along. Feel the music and enjoy it instead of worrying what people think of you!
The class was much more intense than usual, which was a lot of fun. Kicking up the speed = more calories burned for my time! However, in addition to just burning calories, we were having fun! In the afternoon classes, all of the songs are American songs with trampoline routines put to them. This morning, however, was mostly traditional Brazilian music (mostly forro) put to an exercise beat. With this traditional music, I saw the true colors of my gym companions finally show.
When the chorus came around for each of the songs, people began making traditional Brazilian dance moves, throwing in some samba shakes, forro twists and sertanejo beats. After a couple of songs, people started throwing in some claps at appropriate times until the entire class joined in in the beat. It was like a class I had never seen before. And, after I return to the U.S., may never see again.
At the gym classes in the U.S., people seem to be very self conscious of each and every move they make. Often when my kickboxing instructors would add claps to the beat, people would be too timid to clap. When my step aerobics instructors added fun twists to the steps, people would be too embarassed to twist.
But not here. In my dance class, we move it and shake it without a care. It may look silly, but we do it. In my abs class, the trainers might let out some hoots and hollers when the music gets good. It's not about what people think about you; it's about enjoying the music and the movement.
What I found most interesting, though, is that when my classes are to American music, the excitement fades. The Brazilians go along with the routine but don't add any jumps or bumps of their own to the beat. When traditional, recognized music comes on, though, the people take on a life of their own.
And I have seen this boldness to Brazilian beats come out in so many other ways throughout Brazil too. At a concert I went to with Lowell and Catherine, there was samba music playing. Some people jumped right out on the floor and danced samba around the room. The rest of the crowd watched with smiles or clapped along. During Carnival, the people didn't simply watch the bloco Lowell and I participated in. Instead the entire crowd poured into the street to sing and dance along.
It seems there is something wonderfully freeing about not being self-conscious about moving and shaking it. The Brazilian people have so much fun just letting go and participating in the music. I urge you to be bold and try the same next time you have the opportunity. At your next parade, live concert, or church event, just sing, dance or clap along. Feel the music and enjoy it instead of worrying what people think of you!
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