Hi all,
One week of Portuguese class left. The college extended the class an extra week, why? I don't know but I'm sure glad. This new schedule has me arriving in Juiz de Fora only 2 nights before classes begin in August 9. Class is going very well. I have been spending a lot of time studying in order to try and make up for my worries of my language deficiencies.
Only 2 days ago, I received my first contact message from the host family I might be staying with in Juiz de Fora. Not a family as he is single, a doctor, has one roommate and speaks little English. He is starting a vacation today for which he will be arriving in Rio by bus later this afternoon, then onto Salvador in the North of Brazil early tomorrrow. I am meeting him at the bus station later today for an introduction. He will be on vacation when I arrive in JF so he has told me his roommate will meet me at the bustation when I arrive.
I am joining a couple of young women today for a hike from about sea level to the Christ statue through the national park. I've been told there are many monkeys and a few sloths in the tropical forest. It is a beautiful sunny day with forcasted highs of 75. Perfect for a hike.
Chewy
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Fin de Semana (weekend)
My Portuguese class has been going great. Yesterday, we spent the whole day touring the city. While conversing only in Portuguese, we visited the National Theater (a very beautiful building in the heart of the city center), a marina museum containing a battle ship and a submarine, a street fair selling many native arts, crafts and foods. The end of the class and day found us on a peninsula jutting out into the ocean between the two most famous beaches Ipanema and Copacabana. This granite outcrop is the host of a fort containing a museum, and a large cannon pointing towards the ocean built into the rock. We arrived here about an hour before sunset as we were able to watch the changing colors of the sky as the sun dissappeared behind the tall buildings adjacent to Copacabana. All these tourist locations were paid for by the school as the syllabus initially states. The syllabus has us in class Monday through Friday with cultural activities on three Saturdays of the four weeks of class. I love this class as it's not just sitting in the class with our nose in the books doing repititous memorizing.
The first class on Wednesday, we learned of Brazils history and culture. After eating lunch, we had an hour and a half until class resumed. My other class mates layed down on the concrete benches in the outside common area adjacent to the cafeteria. After trying this for 10 minutes, I began to play my harmonica for the next hour. About 15 local students approached me saying they liked the music with several telling me there was a poetry reading at the same location on Friday. As at least one person would be playing their guitar at the peotry reading as they mentioned they would love to have me play the harmonica there as well.
Today's class was half lecture. The second half of the day we went on another tour to the Botanical Garden (Jardim Botanico). In the morning, we had a history lesson of Brazil and Rio de Janeiro. With all spoken in Portuguese, my understanding was that France invaded and took control of Portugal then Brazil. The king of France built this Botanical Garden with many different tropical plants and trees from equatorial locations throughout the world. This 540 square meter area became inhabited by France in 1808. In 1822, Brazil gained their independence when later this area became a park. In addition to all the greenery within the park's rain forest, there were also several varities of monkeys. Instead of taking public transportation to all these places, the school had provided a passanger van with a driver to escort us around the city.
We left for the botanical garden before the peotry reading took place. Not knowing we were going until just before lunch today, I was able to see the group who invited me to play the harmonica in the lunch room. I appologized to them for committing to play and then through inforseen circumstances, I was unable to. They told me there would be other times events like this would occur.
Chewy
The first class on Wednesday, we learned of Brazils history and culture. After eating lunch, we had an hour and a half until class resumed. My other class mates layed down on the concrete benches in the outside common area adjacent to the cafeteria. After trying this for 10 minutes, I began to play my harmonica for the next hour. About 15 local students approached me saying they liked the music with several telling me there was a poetry reading at the same location on Friday. As at least one person would be playing their guitar at the peotry reading as they mentioned they would love to have me play the harmonica there as well.
Today's class was half lecture. The second half of the day we went on another tour to the Botanical Garden (Jardim Botanico). In the morning, we had a history lesson of Brazil and Rio de Janeiro. With all spoken in Portuguese, my understanding was that France invaded and took control of Portugal then Brazil. The king of France built this Botanical Garden with many different tropical plants and trees from equatorial locations throughout the world. This 540 square meter area became inhabited by France in 1808. In 1822, Brazil gained their independence when later this area became a park. In addition to all the greenery within the park's rain forest, there were also several varities of monkeys. Instead of taking public transportation to all these places, the school had provided a passanger van with a driver to escort us around the city.
We left for the botanical garden before the peotry reading took place. Not knowing we were going until just before lunch today, I was able to see the group who invited me to play the harmonica in the lunch room. I appologized to them for committing to play and then through inforseen circumstances, I was unable to. They told me there would be other times events like this would occur.
Chewy
Monday, July 5, 2010
Aula de Portugues (Portuguese Class)
My first day of class was simple and somewhat dissappointing. The only thing I learned was where the class would be held and where I would eat on campus. We did administrative things such as paperwork lasting for about an two hours. At the start of class we were given three pages stapled together with a total of four questions on them and articles supplimenting the questions. All was in Portuguese of which I could only pick out maybe two words in Spanish for ten I read. I had difficulty reading the questions in their entirety. We were given two sheets of paper to write out our answers. Not knowing what to write, I wrote my full name, my address here at the hostel and my email address. Below this, I wrote a few sentences in Spanish about myself saying I have studied Spanish for one year in college and that I had lived in Costa Rica for six months. I wrote two sentences in Portuguese saying that I spoke very little Portuguese and that I had studied the language very little for the past three months. I read all three pages thoroughly and received some comprenhension on the last page. There was a pasted article on drinking and driving in Brazil and I believe they were asking for how drinking and driving is handled in my home country. The legal drinking age here is 18, the article stated. I had thoughts fomulated but couldn't decipher my thoughts into Portuguese.
There were four students total in the class with five more not there yet. As the first two students got up to turn their answers, I followed handing mine with a big smile on my face. The teacher and two assistants had us all to go outside. We were called in one at a time for an interview. Upon my turn, I was asked why I wanted to learn Portuguese and what my goals were when finished with college. Basically general questions to see where my level of portuguese was. Before I answered, I asked my first question, fala ingles, do you speak english (yes) as I answered all their questions in English.
That was in essence, the whole class. They told us they were waiting for more students to show up before class started. To look for an email in the next day or two with classes starting on Wednesday. My dissappointment is in the delay of class. But what could I do? The question mark key works on this computer. The other three students are form two Virginia Tech, I believe in Charlottsville, VA and one from University of Virginia, all males. The two traveling together had two semesters of Portuguese while the other had none. He had less written on his paper than I.
We all went back to the International Office to receive student ID's so we could use the computer labs and eat at the cafeteria. There were plenty of vendors outside of all the main buildings selling mainly fast food type items. I wanted to experience the cafeteria on my first day at school. I ditched my other three classmates as they had other things in mind and found my way back to the language building which houses the student cafeteria. Again, similar to the cafeteria at the school in Juiz de Fora but a little more expensive at R$2 (a very good price at US$1). The food was much simpler containing black beans and rice, freshly grilled chicken tenders, a bowl of fresh fruit containing peeled sliced oranges, bananas and something similar the the color of beets, and fettucini in a cream sauce. Every day, the language school breaks for an hour and a half at lunch time.
Going to the end of the line to enter the cafeteria, I was given a yellow slip of paper with a munber on it which turned out to be my meal pass. I had to ask the three young female students in line in front of me what the yellow paper was. Telling them I spoke very little Portuguese and they spoke no English, they saw a friend of theirs walking past who spoke English. They called him over to help answer my questions and then he went on his way. The three students invited me to join them at their table. We tried talking but the language barrier and the loudness in the dining room was to great for me to hear.
I found the bus stop back to Ipanema Beach surviving my first day of school in Brazil.
Chewy
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Festa Junina (June Party)
Hi everyone,,
June party, is this the same as a May, July, August, Sept......party. As it turns out this is a party in honor of Saint Peter (I don't know who this Saint is). This party happens on the Tuesdays throughout the month of June celebrated throughout Rio and maybe all of Brazil. The June party (Festa Junina) I happen to be attending as celebrated at the cheapest hostel in all of Rio is a party where you pay initially R$15 (half in US$) for all the food and beer one can eat and drink. Quite cheap with entertainment included.
The food, so far has consisted of suasages and cheese grilled over charcol. I've never had grilled cheese as the sign read. I thought of grilled cheese in the form of a sandwich. but this form of grilled cheese was literally grilled cheese. Just like the sausage, the cheese of similar shape, .5 inch square by 5 inches long grilled over hot coals until crispy dark brown on all four sides. The cheese could have been dipped in a course brown flour or eaten plain straight off the stick. I don`t know what kind of cheese, white in color but definetly not mozerella to be able to become crispy over the high heat of charcol. The first grilled cheese on a stick was eaten plain, the second, rolled in course ground brown flour giving the hot cheese a crunchy texture. I don't know what kind of cheese this was being grilled but it must have been some kind of hearty cheese able to withstand the high temperatures of charcol without melting like mozeralla or cheddar cheese. Other foods were a traditional Brazilian soup made of creamed rice and hominy, sweet and regular cornbread, and peanut brittle. As I have restarted the low carb diet, the sweets were set aside as I ate more of the grilled cheese and sausage.
Various festivities during the Festa Junina include a plethora of games for all participants. My favorite of which is bingo. You all know the game, right. The numbers were drawn from a coconut with a hole large enough to stick your hand through. The winner of all these games won a chip enabling the winner to a free drink of Caiprinha. Caiprinha is a Brazilian drink made from the liquor Cachaca which happens to be a liquor made from cane sugar, a sweet liquor. Making caprinha involves using a wooden mallet to mash the fresh limes, pulverizing the pulp within the liquor of cachaca. To make the sugar cane liquor even sweeter, granulated cane sugar can be added. I, so far have had mine made without the granulated sugar as it appears to be sweet enough without the sugar.
Other games to get chips to trade for the caiprinha drink involve a drinking game where a deck of cards are placed on top of a beer bottle. The game is called BLOW. The object is to see how many cards you can blow off the bottle without blowing the final card off. The one who blows the final card off the bottle has to drink. Reminds me of all the drinking games I participated while in college, not recently but in my younger college days at the age of 18 to 22. The games of yesteryear were wuite familiar, but now mostly all I do is watch. I have been able to derive enjoyment out of watching others in their state of inebriation playing these silly games, socializing and getting drunk. I don't see where the celebration of Saint Peter on any Tuesday evening in June plays a part in the Festa. The party could have just as well been in celebration of a favorite cat who died last year or in celebration of rearrenging the living room furniture. This party resembles in appearance, nothing to Saint Peter, but of what, I can`t quite figure it out. Another reason to have a party. May God rest Saint Peter's soul.
The hostel is a notorious location for the younger party crowd as I am for the most part twice or almost twice the guests ages. There are people from all over the world staying here. I've met individuals from Holland, Korea, Japan, China, UK, New Zealand, India, Iran, Egypt, Australia, all over South America, Canada, Nepal, Scotland, Finland, Germany, Belgium, Ireland.... many countries but I have yet to meet one from the USA. There are many different languages spoken here. But English seems to be the one common language spoken amongst all as I can carry on a conversation with almost everyone from around the world.
Now a few days later as fourth of July has arrived. Another means for celebration with more drinking games, more caiprinha and beer and, to my surprise american food (grilled hamburgers and hot dogs). Tonights main game is called beer pong. The pool table this game is played upon has seen its better days. The felt cover has many gross stains on it from long since dried spilt drinks. I have yet to see a game of pool played on the table. I heard someone say not to lean on the table as it may collapse. The pool table has seen better days. Beer pong through my eyes for about five minutes, involves pairs of peoople at opposing ends with 10 half filled small cups of beer. The object is to toss a ping pong ball into one of the 10 cups from across the table into the cup. If the cups lands in a cup of beer, the person standing with the cups has to drink the beer contained within the cup. The losing couple of the game when all the beer is consumed from the cups in front of them, has to drink the remaining beer in the cups of the opposing team.
I am so fortunate I have been able to sleep through all the noise. The hostel seems to quiet down after midnight as the majority younger crowd leaves out into the night for the night life contained in a 24 hour city. The young party crowd don`t return until 0400, 0500 or sometimes not until after the sun rises, sleeping till 1400 or later. I am amazed at how wiser I get with age, not joining the masses of drunken recreations. Two or three beers is quite enough for me once or twice a week. Tonight, the majortity are heading to a favela party leaving here at 2330 til the late hours of the early morning. I barely wake up as those who return finding their way to their bed after sunrise, trying to be quiet as they are nearing the borderline of an inebriated hangover. Of the maximum capacity of 23 people in the room (11 double bunk beds and one single with the total capacity of the hostel at 50), last night there were only maybe three sleeping when I retired at 0200 this morning. Now approaching 2345, the loud music of the hostel has been turned off as the people congregate outside for mass transportation to the largest favela in the city. The decible level has been reduced drastically except for the occasional outburst of those still playing beer pong on the pool table.
Portuguese class starts at 1000 tomorrow at the federal university here in Rio. Later, another story.
Chewy
June party, is this the same as a May, July, August, Sept......party. As it turns out this is a party in honor of Saint Peter (I don't know who this Saint is). This party happens on the Tuesdays throughout the month of June celebrated throughout Rio and maybe all of Brazil. The June party (Festa Junina) I happen to be attending as celebrated at the cheapest hostel in all of Rio is a party where you pay initially R$15 (half in US$) for all the food and beer one can eat and drink. Quite cheap with entertainment included.
The food, so far has consisted of suasages and cheese grilled over charcol. I've never had grilled cheese as the sign read. I thought of grilled cheese in the form of a sandwich. but this form of grilled cheese was literally grilled cheese. Just like the sausage, the cheese of similar shape, .5 inch square by 5 inches long grilled over hot coals until crispy dark brown on all four sides. The cheese could have been dipped in a course brown flour or eaten plain straight off the stick. I don`t know what kind of cheese, white in color but definetly not mozerella to be able to become crispy over the high heat of charcol. The first grilled cheese on a stick was eaten plain, the second, rolled in course ground brown flour giving the hot cheese a crunchy texture. I don't know what kind of cheese this was being grilled but it must have been some kind of hearty cheese able to withstand the high temperatures of charcol without melting like mozeralla or cheddar cheese. Other foods were a traditional Brazilian soup made of creamed rice and hominy, sweet and regular cornbread, and peanut brittle. As I have restarted the low carb diet, the sweets were set aside as I ate more of the grilled cheese and sausage.
Various festivities during the Festa Junina include a plethora of games for all participants. My favorite of which is bingo. You all know the game, right. The numbers were drawn from a coconut with a hole large enough to stick your hand through. The winner of all these games won a chip enabling the winner to a free drink of Caiprinha. Caiprinha is a Brazilian drink made from the liquor Cachaca which happens to be a liquor made from cane sugar, a sweet liquor. Making caprinha involves using a wooden mallet to mash the fresh limes, pulverizing the pulp within the liquor of cachaca. To make the sugar cane liquor even sweeter, granulated cane sugar can be added. I, so far have had mine made without the granulated sugar as it appears to be sweet enough without the sugar.
Other games to get chips to trade for the caiprinha drink involve a drinking game where a deck of cards are placed on top of a beer bottle. The game is called BLOW. The object is to see how many cards you can blow off the bottle without blowing the final card off. The one who blows the final card off the bottle has to drink. Reminds me of all the drinking games I participated while in college, not recently but in my younger college days at the age of 18 to 22. The games of yesteryear were wuite familiar, but now mostly all I do is watch. I have been able to derive enjoyment out of watching others in their state of inebriation playing these silly games, socializing and getting drunk. I don't see where the celebration of Saint Peter on any Tuesday evening in June plays a part in the Festa. The party could have just as well been in celebration of a favorite cat who died last year or in celebration of rearrenging the living room furniture. This party resembles in appearance, nothing to Saint Peter, but of what, I can`t quite figure it out. Another reason to have a party. May God rest Saint Peter's soul.
The hostel is a notorious location for the younger party crowd as I am for the most part twice or almost twice the guests ages. There are people from all over the world staying here. I've met individuals from Holland, Korea, Japan, China, UK, New Zealand, India, Iran, Egypt, Australia, all over South America, Canada, Nepal, Scotland, Finland, Germany, Belgium, Ireland.... many countries but I have yet to meet one from the USA. There are many different languages spoken here. But English seems to be the one common language spoken amongst all as I can carry on a conversation with almost everyone from around the world.
Now a few days later as fourth of July has arrived. Another means for celebration with more drinking games, more caiprinha and beer and, to my surprise american food (grilled hamburgers and hot dogs). Tonights main game is called beer pong. The pool table this game is played upon has seen its better days. The felt cover has many gross stains on it from long since dried spilt drinks. I have yet to see a game of pool played on the table. I heard someone say not to lean on the table as it may collapse. The pool table has seen better days. Beer pong through my eyes for about five minutes, involves pairs of peoople at opposing ends with 10 half filled small cups of beer. The object is to toss a ping pong ball into one of the 10 cups from across the table into the cup. If the cups lands in a cup of beer, the person standing with the cups has to drink the beer contained within the cup. The losing couple of the game when all the beer is consumed from the cups in front of them, has to drink the remaining beer in the cups of the opposing team.
I am so fortunate I have been able to sleep through all the noise. The hostel seems to quiet down after midnight as the majority younger crowd leaves out into the night for the night life contained in a 24 hour city. The young party crowd don`t return until 0400, 0500 or sometimes not until after the sun rises, sleeping till 1400 or later. I am amazed at how wiser I get with age, not joining the masses of drunken recreations. Two or three beers is quite enough for me once or twice a week. Tonight, the majortity are heading to a favela party leaving here at 2330 til the late hours of the early morning. I barely wake up as those who return finding their way to their bed after sunrise, trying to be quiet as they are nearing the borderline of an inebriated hangover. Of the maximum capacity of 23 people in the room (11 double bunk beds and one single with the total capacity of the hostel at 50), last night there were only maybe three sleeping when I retired at 0200 this morning. Now approaching 2345, the loud music of the hostel has been turned off as the people congregate outside for mass transportation to the largest favela in the city. The decible level has been reduced drastically except for the occasional outburst of those still playing beer pong on the pool table.
Portuguese class starts at 1000 tomorrow at the federal university here in Rio. Later, another story.
Chewy
Friday, July 2, 2010
Juiz de Fora, JF
Hi All,
I enjoyed Juiz de Fora Yesterday. The first bus from the central bus terminal in Rio was at 0600. In order to save the great cost of a taxi from the hostel to the bus terminal, I thought I would just take the last city bus of the night from the hostel. Arriving at the bus stop at 0030 (Iwas told the last bus would pass at 0100) and waiting for more than an hour, no bus ever came to take me to the central bus terminal. Again, instead of taking a taxi, I walked to the street parallel to the beach where I hailed a passanger van. These passanger vans hold about 15 people and go to various parts of the city, one tripo for R$2.20 (half in US$). A bus to any point costs R$2.35.
My adventure begins, not knowing where to get off. I have been around the city, by bus and walking, enough to recognize the names of many of it's suburbs. There are three locations which still confuse me by name as these are Centro, Central, and Centre each being a different location in Rio. Having a choice between these three and a maximum of 4 hours to get to the bus terminal with 30 minutes to spare, I decided on the van to Central.
Along with the driver of the van, there is another employee who takes the fare. This extra employee stands in the narrow entry to the van next to the open window. The extra's other job is to holler out the window the names of the various main suburbs in route yelling almost constantly Lapa, Botafogo, Flamengo, Gloria, Central to all curb side people who may look like they are waiting for a taxi, bus, or van. The only time when she is not yelling is when she is taking money from the passangers.
The driver will stop anywhere in route, all you have to do is whistle, hit the roof of the van or simply say stop here and the driver immediately pulls over. I got on the van, paid my R$2.20 and upon settling in to try and recognize which suburbs we were passing through. I asked the extra two simple words I had learned in Portuguese, Onde Rodoviaria, Where central bus terminal (every city seems to have one and its called Rodoviaria) pronounced on-gee hodo-vee-are-eea with a stressed accent on the first i. She spoke to me for a few seconds in rapid portuguese maybe thinking I spoke the language fluently. I nodded like I understood and said muito bom (very good).
After driving around in the early morning hours for more than 30 minutes seeing many locations I didn't recognize with a few glimpses of areas I did mainly proceeding in the general direction of where I wanted to go, the driver dropped off the next to the last passenger. A good sign that the van is nearing the end of its route upon which it will turn around and repeat the trip in the other direction, the extra will continuing yelling in a rapid voice Central, Gloria, Flamengo, Botafogo, Lapa, Copacabana, Impanema.....
Being the last passanger, the extra again began talking to me in Portuguese of which I understood nothing, but what did she know. When she finished, I asked, fala inglis (do you speak english). Not a word. I said Muito bom agian as we both laughed and they dropped my off a few blocks later, obviously their last stop. Here they turned around and continued where we had come from.
Wondering what I was going to do next, I walked a 360 degree circle in one spot, scanning as far as I could see. Two blocks in one direction, I saw a mass concentration of people and a few city busses. What came to be a main city bus terminal. This is what the extra had been telling me, "we'll drop you off near a bus stop where you can get a bus to Rodoviaria". I walked the two blocks and waited for about 30 minutes until a bus with the word Rodoviaria written in big letters on the windshield. Paying the R$2.35, I was there lass than 15 minutes later.
I arrived at the central bus terminal at about 0315 with my bus not leaving until 0600. I slept lightly in the terminal chairs not wanting to sleep soundly. I had no alarm clock to wake me for departure. I slept almost the whole bus trip to Juiz de Fora, 180 Km roughly 108 miles in 3.5 hours.
My advisor in JF had given me bus numbers which would get me to UFJF. I first had to take a bus from Rodoviaria to Centro and then find a bus to UFJF. At 0930 and going from sea level and 75 degrees to over 3000 feet elevation and 50 degrees in the winter wearing shorts, short sleeve shirt and sandels, I was shivering. I'm glad I had brought one pair of pants with me but was sad as I had left them in Rio. I will be able to use them in JF when I move here the first week of August.
I checked in with the international office at UFJF (University Federal de Juiz de Fora). As my appointment with the Policia Federal (to register as the final part of my student visa application process of which I detest because this step of the process costs nearly US$100) wasn't until 1500, I had time also to meet my advisor with the Civil Engineering department. After organizing some classes I might be able to take in August, she offered to take me to lunch. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time as I still had to stop by any bank to pay the R$190 in fees to the Policia Federal with just enough time to go register with them back in Centro.
Yesterday, through email, the International office had asked me if I wanted an excort to the Policia Federal in JF. The People here in Brazil are so nice. I was so extatic from the international office's offer. I met my escort at 1400 after paying the bill at a bank on UFJF's campus.
JF is similar in terrain to Robbbinsville, where everything is up and steeply. The city, the size of about Greensboro, is definetly in the mountains, the main city center being in the narrow river valley bottom. Before arriving here, not knowing the terrain, I had considered renting a bicycle for the four months I will be spending in JF. This isn't a practical option for me. The university sits on top of a mountain high above the city center (its highly likely I will be living in Centro). The roads are steep and twisty, crowded with pedestrians, cars and busses.
My escort and I arrived at the Policia Fedaral with minutes to spare taking a bus back to centro then walking about a mile. Along the way, I found out he spoke no English. We didn't talk much. My escort and the officer at the Policia Federal talked for about 20 minutes as I sat there listening intently understanding about every 10th word, mainly a word in Spanish. My visit resulted in me not finalizing the last step in my visa application process. My documents clearly state I must register in JF. But the policia tell me I must register in Rio. Not showing my discontent, I was pissed but got over it soon enough.
I had to go back to UFJF to see my Engineering advisor before leaving the Rodoviaria in JF at 1900 for Rio. This was my second trip walking through the UFJF campus and the Engineering department. I could've takan a free campus bus but I had time and wanted to see the campus.
The western half of the school I walked through from the center where the bus dropped me off to the Engineering department passes through three other educational disciplines. Each discipline had its narrow long strip of land cut into the mountain side similar to terraces with the Engineering department being at the pinnacle of the mountain. Between each terrace were long steep steps containing switchbacks to get from one level to the next. My first walk through was over the much longer road to the top but this time I meandered through and between the buildings of each terrace in order to find stairs leading from behind the buildings up to the next terrace. By the time I reached the top, I was sweating profusely as the temperature had reached a sweltering 65 degrees in the middle of winter.
I met with my advisor to obtain paper copies of class descriptions to give to my advisor in NC for credit evaluation. UFJF's websight is under construction. My advisor, Roberta (who speaks enough English), said the websight for the current classes has been down and the only thing available was a hard copy of the class descriptions. I must translate these, 11 pages in all to English before forwarding them to NC. I'm trying to find someone knowledgeable enough of computers who can show me who to convert .pdf files to .doc or .docx files so I can paste these descriptions into an internet translator.
To my surprise, Roberta had found me an escort to follow me back to Rodoviaria. After introductions, Roberta followed us to the school cafeteria to buy Rafael (as the R is pronounced with a gutteral H his name is pronounced Ha-fael) and I supper. The cafeteria was very simple with only lunch and supper served. Supper last night consisted of all you can eat, serve yourself beans and rice, stewed cabbage, one, and only one serving of diced sauteed chicken (scooped by a server), a very small salad bar with green leaf lettuce, sliced tomatoes and whole fresh fruit. A self serve drink bar of juices and water. That's it. All for R$1.50 each meal. Roughly US$0.75. What a bargain.
Oblivious to time as I had an escort to the bus terminal we ate and talked. Rafael was not just a random student found by Roberta. Rafael (who speaks much better English than I do Portuguese) is excited to be on his way to North Carolina State University in two weeks to study Industrail Engineering for a semester. We had lots to talk about. I, mainly practicing my Portuguese and Rafael asking me about Raleigh (How's the night life, Are there a lot of attractions there, How much is a Big Mac, in JF US$5.00), he is looking forward to seeing a Walmart for the first time. He introduced me to his girlfriend whispering to me I better take care of her making sure she stays faithful to him while he is gone.
Not knowig the time, just after eating he gets up and says we must rush for Rodoviaria as it is getting late and we have to take two busses through Centro. I arrive at the bus terminal with 10 minutes to spare taking a taxi from centro as I never would have arrived on time had I taken the bus.
The next thing I remember from getting on the bus in JF was waking to an empty bus at Rodoviaria in Rio. I don't think the bus had been there for long. Being sleepy and disoriented, I had to ask upon getting off the bus where I was, Que este cidade, What city is this (insert question mark here as the question mark key doesn't work on this computer, it spits out a colon) Taking one bus from Rodoviaria in Rio, I arrived at the hostel at 2330 very tired and ready for bed.
Today I slept until 0930. Needing more cash, I ventured out for an ATM for the first time. Something I should've done sooner. Trying three banks and using two different debit cards from two different banks in the US many times, I was finally able to withdraw a maximum of R$600 for the day. I'm going to have to reach SECU (State Employees Credit Union) to see what the problem is as My BB&T debit card worked. I needed R$900 to pay tuition at UFRJ (University Federal de Rio De Janeiro). Afterwhich I went to UFRJ to register, obtain documents for the Policia Federal in Rio, and inquire about Portuguese class starting Monday.
Everything went smoothly with the Policia Federal in Rio. The final step in my student visa application process is complete. I waited in line, in a chair, the only one in the student line for an hour and a half. The next number to be called was 416 as the digital counter read 415. Sitting in the chair in a crowded room amongst at least 50 people doing other things with the passport department, a blaring TV, I fell asleep. The officer, who checked me in, checked all my documents, had me to fill out the student visa application, took fingerprinnts of all ten fingers (twice) on the front and back of the application, woke me an hour and a half later to tell me its my turn. Fifteen minutes later I was on my way back to the hostel, leaving the airport as the sun was setting at 1715.
Chewy
I enjoyed Juiz de Fora Yesterday. The first bus from the central bus terminal in Rio was at 0600. In order to save the great cost of a taxi from the hostel to the bus terminal, I thought I would just take the last city bus of the night from the hostel. Arriving at the bus stop at 0030 (Iwas told the last bus would pass at 0100) and waiting for more than an hour, no bus ever came to take me to the central bus terminal. Again, instead of taking a taxi, I walked to the street parallel to the beach where I hailed a passanger van. These passanger vans hold about 15 people and go to various parts of the city, one tripo for R$2.20 (half in US$). A bus to any point costs R$2.35.
My adventure begins, not knowing where to get off. I have been around the city, by bus and walking, enough to recognize the names of many of it's suburbs. There are three locations which still confuse me by name as these are Centro, Central, and Centre each being a different location in Rio. Having a choice between these three and a maximum of 4 hours to get to the bus terminal with 30 minutes to spare, I decided on the van to Central.
Along with the driver of the van, there is another employee who takes the fare. This extra employee stands in the narrow entry to the van next to the open window. The extra's other job is to holler out the window the names of the various main suburbs in route yelling almost constantly Lapa, Botafogo, Flamengo, Gloria, Central to all curb side people who may look like they are waiting for a taxi, bus, or van. The only time when she is not yelling is when she is taking money from the passangers.
The driver will stop anywhere in route, all you have to do is whistle, hit the roof of the van or simply say stop here and the driver immediately pulls over. I got on the van, paid my R$2.20 and upon settling in to try and recognize which suburbs we were passing through. I asked the extra two simple words I had learned in Portuguese, Onde Rodoviaria, Where central bus terminal (every city seems to have one and its called Rodoviaria) pronounced on-gee hodo-vee-are-eea with a stressed accent on the first i. She spoke to me for a few seconds in rapid portuguese maybe thinking I spoke the language fluently. I nodded like I understood and said muito bom (very good).
After driving around in the early morning hours for more than 30 minutes seeing many locations I didn't recognize with a few glimpses of areas I did mainly proceeding in the general direction of where I wanted to go, the driver dropped off the next to the last passenger. A good sign that the van is nearing the end of its route upon which it will turn around and repeat the trip in the other direction, the extra will continuing yelling in a rapid voice Central, Gloria, Flamengo, Botafogo, Lapa, Copacabana, Impanema.....
Being the last passanger, the extra again began talking to me in Portuguese of which I understood nothing, but what did she know. When she finished, I asked, fala inglis (do you speak english). Not a word. I said Muito bom agian as we both laughed and they dropped my off a few blocks later, obviously their last stop. Here they turned around and continued where we had come from.
Wondering what I was going to do next, I walked a 360 degree circle in one spot, scanning as far as I could see. Two blocks in one direction, I saw a mass concentration of people and a few city busses. What came to be a main city bus terminal. This is what the extra had been telling me, "we'll drop you off near a bus stop where you can get a bus to Rodoviaria". I walked the two blocks and waited for about 30 minutes until a bus with the word Rodoviaria written in big letters on the windshield. Paying the R$2.35, I was there lass than 15 minutes later.
I arrived at the central bus terminal at about 0315 with my bus not leaving until 0600. I slept lightly in the terminal chairs not wanting to sleep soundly. I had no alarm clock to wake me for departure. I slept almost the whole bus trip to Juiz de Fora, 180 Km roughly 108 miles in 3.5 hours.
My advisor in JF had given me bus numbers which would get me to UFJF. I first had to take a bus from Rodoviaria to Centro and then find a bus to UFJF. At 0930 and going from sea level and 75 degrees to over 3000 feet elevation and 50 degrees in the winter wearing shorts, short sleeve shirt and sandels, I was shivering. I'm glad I had brought one pair of pants with me but was sad as I had left them in Rio. I will be able to use them in JF when I move here the first week of August.
I checked in with the international office at UFJF (University Federal de Juiz de Fora). As my appointment with the Policia Federal (to register as the final part of my student visa application process of which I detest because this step of the process costs nearly US$100) wasn't until 1500, I had time also to meet my advisor with the Civil Engineering department. After organizing some classes I might be able to take in August, she offered to take me to lunch. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time as I still had to stop by any bank to pay the R$190 in fees to the Policia Federal with just enough time to go register with them back in Centro.
Yesterday, through email, the International office had asked me if I wanted an excort to the Policia Federal in JF. The People here in Brazil are so nice. I was so extatic from the international office's offer. I met my escort at 1400 after paying the bill at a bank on UFJF's campus.
JF is similar in terrain to Robbbinsville, where everything is up and steeply. The city, the size of about Greensboro, is definetly in the mountains, the main city center being in the narrow river valley bottom. Before arriving here, not knowing the terrain, I had considered renting a bicycle for the four months I will be spending in JF. This isn't a practical option for me. The university sits on top of a mountain high above the city center (its highly likely I will be living in Centro). The roads are steep and twisty, crowded with pedestrians, cars and busses.
My escort and I arrived at the Policia Fedaral with minutes to spare taking a bus back to centro then walking about a mile. Along the way, I found out he spoke no English. We didn't talk much. My escort and the officer at the Policia Federal talked for about 20 minutes as I sat there listening intently understanding about every 10th word, mainly a word in Spanish. My visit resulted in me not finalizing the last step in my visa application process. My documents clearly state I must register in JF. But the policia tell me I must register in Rio. Not showing my discontent, I was pissed but got over it soon enough.
I had to go back to UFJF to see my Engineering advisor before leaving the Rodoviaria in JF at 1900 for Rio. This was my second trip walking through the UFJF campus and the Engineering department. I could've takan a free campus bus but I had time and wanted to see the campus.
The western half of the school I walked through from the center where the bus dropped me off to the Engineering department passes through three other educational disciplines. Each discipline had its narrow long strip of land cut into the mountain side similar to terraces with the Engineering department being at the pinnacle of the mountain. Between each terrace were long steep steps containing switchbacks to get from one level to the next. My first walk through was over the much longer road to the top but this time I meandered through and between the buildings of each terrace in order to find stairs leading from behind the buildings up to the next terrace. By the time I reached the top, I was sweating profusely as the temperature had reached a sweltering 65 degrees in the middle of winter.
I met with my advisor to obtain paper copies of class descriptions to give to my advisor in NC for credit evaluation. UFJF's websight is under construction. My advisor, Roberta (who speaks enough English), said the websight for the current classes has been down and the only thing available was a hard copy of the class descriptions. I must translate these, 11 pages in all to English before forwarding them to NC. I'm trying to find someone knowledgeable enough of computers who can show me who to convert .pdf files to .doc or .docx files so I can paste these descriptions into an internet translator.
To my surprise, Roberta had found me an escort to follow me back to Rodoviaria. After introductions, Roberta followed us to the school cafeteria to buy Rafael (as the R is pronounced with a gutteral H his name is pronounced Ha-fael) and I supper. The cafeteria was very simple with only lunch and supper served. Supper last night consisted of all you can eat, serve yourself beans and rice, stewed cabbage, one, and only one serving of diced sauteed chicken (scooped by a server), a very small salad bar with green leaf lettuce, sliced tomatoes and whole fresh fruit. A self serve drink bar of juices and water. That's it. All for R$1.50 each meal. Roughly US$0.75. What a bargain.
Oblivious to time as I had an escort to the bus terminal we ate and talked. Rafael was not just a random student found by Roberta. Rafael (who speaks much better English than I do Portuguese) is excited to be on his way to North Carolina State University in two weeks to study Industrail Engineering for a semester. We had lots to talk about. I, mainly practicing my Portuguese and Rafael asking me about Raleigh (How's the night life, Are there a lot of attractions there, How much is a Big Mac, in JF US$5.00), he is looking forward to seeing a Walmart for the first time. He introduced me to his girlfriend whispering to me I better take care of her making sure she stays faithful to him while he is gone.
Not knowig the time, just after eating he gets up and says we must rush for Rodoviaria as it is getting late and we have to take two busses through Centro. I arrive at the bus terminal with 10 minutes to spare taking a taxi from centro as I never would have arrived on time had I taken the bus.
The next thing I remember from getting on the bus in JF was waking to an empty bus at Rodoviaria in Rio. I don't think the bus had been there for long. Being sleepy and disoriented, I had to ask upon getting off the bus where I was, Que este cidade, What city is this (insert question mark here as the question mark key doesn't work on this computer, it spits out a colon) Taking one bus from Rodoviaria in Rio, I arrived at the hostel at 2330 very tired and ready for bed.
Today I slept until 0930. Needing more cash, I ventured out for an ATM for the first time. Something I should've done sooner. Trying three banks and using two different debit cards from two different banks in the US many times, I was finally able to withdraw a maximum of R$600 for the day. I'm going to have to reach SECU (State Employees Credit Union) to see what the problem is as My BB&T debit card worked. I needed R$900 to pay tuition at UFRJ (University Federal de Rio De Janeiro). Afterwhich I went to UFRJ to register, obtain documents for the Policia Federal in Rio, and inquire about Portuguese class starting Monday.
Everything went smoothly with the Policia Federal in Rio. The final step in my student visa application process is complete. I waited in line, in a chair, the only one in the student line for an hour and a half. The next number to be called was 416 as the digital counter read 415. Sitting in the chair in a crowded room amongst at least 50 people doing other things with the passport department, a blaring TV, I fell asleep. The officer, who checked me in, checked all my documents, had me to fill out the student visa application, took fingerprinnts of all ten fingers (twice) on the front and back of the application, woke me an hour and a half later to tell me its my turn. Fifteen minutes later I was on my way back to the hostel, leaving the airport as the sun was setting at 1715.
Chewy
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