Bom Dia Brazil

I’m sure there’s a song about traveling on a Saturday night somewhere. For me, it was Sao Paulo, Brazil. It would be my 3rd trip to this region of the world, with only a few words of Portuguese in my pocket at a speed of 809 km/hour.

When booking my flights, the agent and my local contact said 3.5 hrs may not be enough to get from the regional airport to the international airport. Their public systems and structures rival that of some much lesser developed countries, and the people tolerate with a strong dose of patience, a mild dose of understanding, and a full dose of acceptance they can do little about it. The city is plagued with traffic congestion, which the government tries to control with restrictive driving times based on your license plate numbers. It appears not to have helped the inconsistency of what you’ll find when you venture out in a moving vehicle between the hours of 0:30 and 24:00. 

From the taxi ride to the hotel, the highway ran along a large culvert, surrounded by tall residential buildings in slightly rounded shapes towering over the city and creating the semblance of busyness in every direction. The buildings were clustered in groups like grain silos; a 1980’s staleness and character in its charm. It was tropical industrial meets metropolitan.  It lacks some of the heavy Spanish influence of other countries of Central and South America, yet retains its charm and character with simple, worn, brightly painted concrete storefronts, many with iron gates and vines taking over. The sophistication and charm varied by section as it does in nearly any large city.

 

I admired the new stay cable bridge in route - part of the ‘fixing up’ for the Olympics in Rio I’m told.  Though a business city, the rough sections were adorned with artists’ works (aka graffiti laden metal doors and concrete walls, and rough roads that felt more like Haiti), while “it’s all part of my rock and fantasy” played on the radio. We passed an Applebee’s and a shopping center. The driving was erratic at best, and even the strongest stomach would think twice before reading a magazine. I pulled out my survival biscotti (no mind that I was planning to save it to enjoy with coffee later). This called for drastic measures.  

Then a milestone reached - everything always equalizes once I step into my hotel room, intermittent internet and hot water or not.  I feel like Alice in Wonderland. I am in a land of the teeny tiny coffees (1 inch tall).  When the hotel door shuts, there is always a mix of emotion, fatigue and hunger that settles in.  The joy of traveling is always met with equal parts curiosity and loneliness if by yourself.  My ‘office’ is a 5 building complex set high on a hill with a view from the front entrance of a multicolored shanty town on a mountainside in the distance.  I would venture that direction in the morning.

The food was magnificent, despite the focus on rice and bean sauce every day. Varying forms of vegetables, meat, and desserts sampled daily.  We joked about how often they brush their teeth (a habit US could stand to adopt), and the lack of ‘mints’ in Brazil perhaps as a result. Bom dia (good day), Por favor (please), Obrigado (welcome).

After 3 days in the city, we ventured via plane to the countryside, to small towns of curious locals and the only motel in the area (where immediately upon entering the room, the door knob fell off).  I think my Brazilian counterpart and I were the only two people staying there.

Throughout the journey I saw, disappointingly, too many McDonalds and Walmarts - as if the tentacles of capitalism should not reach so far.  On the drive to 2 of my client’s plants, we passed rows of skinny rubber trees (whose liquid is used to make rubber – how crazy), and fields of sugar cane as far as the eye can see. Sugar cane stalks regrow for generally 5-6 years, before replanting is required. Our plant visit days were exhausting, walking in a cloud of red dirt with sugar cane fields in every direction. On the way back to the regional airport in Sao Jose do Rio Preto, I saw two horse drawn carriages and a small tribute statue of the Cristo Redentor as we roll by. How appropriate (too fast to even snap a photo for you).

 

The visit was exhaustingly wonderful, the business people welcoming, tolerant (of me speaking English), and very helpful.  I was surprised how much it was a melting pot of cultures, such that looking across the room, I could have guessed I was sitting in any US city. I'm told Rio is indeed full of jovial, easy going Brazilians who love the beach, but that trip is for another day.  And though we had to place our things in the back of the car when leaving the office, lest any stoplight induced thieves come knocking on our windows requesting whatever is in the front seat, it was still a productive and fascinating trip, which is always the point.

I made the earlier flight home and welcomed the lady that says “US Citizens, please use this (short) line”.  I was still singing “it’s all part of my rock and roll fantasy” when I wheeled my bag through the exit hall, greeted by my most-loves awaiting my arrival.  It is good to be home.

  

All Yellow

Today started out much like a regular day.  I love when they end pleasantly different.  This picture is large for a reason - I needed it for effect.  

I started in St. Louis MO heading to Chicago - late arrival to Chicago began the unraveling of a travellers journey.  I could wait 4 hrs for the next flight directly to White Plains, NY or fly into Laguardia instead in 1 hr.  I voted for LGA instead in an hour.  She booked me, though it was "completely completely full".  I nodded to confirm and didn't ask any questions on that one. 

At the departure gate for Laguardia, there were dozens of people waiting to try to get on the Laguardia flight. It was declared by all as the ONLY flight getting out of Chicago to New York for the day.  Everything else was cancelled coming in and out of LGA for the remainder of the day in anticipation of snow. Ouch.  Double Ouch.  I indeed held a golden ticket. I had slipped through to get confirmed a seat on the only flight leaving for NY amidst a crowd of standby hopefuls.  I wanted to hug someone.

The boards in this photo represent arrivals and departures to/from New York today.  The part I captured was just the A-C cities, nevermind the rest of the alphabet looked the same.  Green is good, red and yellow are bad.

I arrived in NY just as the snow started to fall.  I was humbly reminded -- by long gas lines off the freeway and many downed trees along the way -- that many people are still displaced and without power in the cold. Many drive an hour north just to fill up in order to return back, and even as far as 40 minutes north stations are marked by a telltale sign of yellow caution tape across the entrance to indicate they are out of fuel, knowing they are also 114th on the list for their next fuel delivery. Bless those that work tirelessly to ease the discomfort and help resume normal life in all of nature's mess. I will remain here tonight thinking about all those people still struggling and wishing there was more that I could physically do in my brief time here. 

Though the snow won't last more than a day, it is like a winter wonderland at my hotel window tonight. I hope you too have days that start and end in pleasantly unexpected ways every now and then.

Cheers.

What's Wrong with this Picture

On a recent trip to NY (see prior post about eventful transportation drivers), I again was cared for by a driver encouraged to treat my journey back to Laguardia like a video game, rushing over this way, breaking through that way, forging ahead, slowing down, breaking suddenly, radically, and frequently while the pit of my body desperately awaiting stationary ground. Its only 30 miles or so right.  I can do it on foot, I know I could...  Train? Tuk Tuk?

In general I understand that people sometimes answer the phone while they drive, often even if its deemed illegal.  I attest I have been known to commit this offense.  However, if responsible for another person in the car, a paid customer and cargo or not, I take issue, especially in a place like NY where driving takes on new meaning and requires a whole new level of intense concentration. You've played the game where you follow the ball to answer which of the 3 cups is it under when the music stops, so you know what I mean.  So, what's wrong with this picture?

 "Would you mind not using your phone in route, I asked", cleverly disguising my real question of "what on earth would make you think that using your phone GPS when you have a perfectly good GPS operating as intended and mounted to the dash is a good idea?"  No answer. Oh dear.

I arrived safe enough but I worried about safe enough all the way up 1 flight of stairs and 1 elevator.  And between that and wondering why he had a deodorizer still in the package hanging from the mirror, I ended my day in NYC. 

Despite it all, I was still on track to deliver in-person good night hugs, thanks to calm clear skies above me.  Goodnight friends.

Office Space & Bracelets

If this is the office of the future, I'll need to shape up my act. I must start purging papers and organizing today. And I must eat only carrots. But it's pretty isn't it?! 

Unrelated to the desk specifically, but related to the peace of making due with what you have, my friend Kesnel in Haiti makes small colored bracelets. I have a few extras (red, blue, white etc.), so if anyone would like one let me know and I'll mail it out gratuit (free).  Its embroidery thread around a plastic band that ties in back.  Kesnel makes and sells them to earn extra money. In this pic, he's making mine! In July, I visited his new business - an Internet Cafe and small technology center (PCs, printer, phones) in Montrouis, Haiti.  He's quite a gem, as is Haiti.  Let me know if you would like one.