When 18 million people need to move around

Don’t ever have a medical emergency in Sao Paulo between 7-10am – 4-8pm. Traffic here feels like LA threw up on Atlanta. The only difference is that Sao Paulo’s traffic is much more urban in nature… making it way more fun to pace yourself. All the beautiful people passing you at the stoplight and 10 min later you’ve moved 10 feet and you still see them strolling along up ahead like a Sunday in the park, smiling eating ice cream, holding balloons…while you sigh in caged misery. Oh yes and you are paying for the pain. The agonizing, hitched my cab to a snail pain of impatience and unimportance. Today I justified spending $30 dollars to ride barely a mile and it took just under 2 hours. Why? Well it was pouring outside and I was an idiot to wait until 6pm to head home, launching myself smack into the middle of (rush?) hour. Not sure what’s so rushed about it with the exception of my temperament.

How do people do it? Literally the worst traffic I have EVER seen, heard or read about.  The city’s current solution besides expanding metro train service (which I fully support regardless of what it costs) is to mitigate through fines. Once a week according to the last number on your license plate you cannot drive during peak hours. Tomorrow is Alex’s ‘off’ day so he has to leave around 6am to make it to work before the cops swarm the highways and ticket all those breaking the rules (same goes for the evening between 5-8)! It’s certainly an interesting idea to try and curb a piece of the problem but Paulistas (people from Sao Paulo) with a little money instead buy two cars with different license plate numbers to avoid the inconvenience! According to CNN, the city is adding cars at a rate of 1000/day! Or better yet, if you have even more money you just buy a helicopter. This is the ‘City of Helicopters’ and around rush hour you hear lots of them buzzing over the financial district like flies on poop. The Washington Post says, “Helicopter companies estimate that liftoffs average 100 per hour. The city boasts 240 helipads, compared with 10 in New York City, allowing the rich to whisk to and from their well-guarded homes to work, business meetings, afternoons of shopping, even church.”  For the rest of us ants down here we have to fight it or avoid it.  Today I hope I learned my lesson and may I be lucky enough to avoid it as much as possible but it’s a reality and coarse welcome from a buzzing metropolis.

*Picture courtesy of Getty Images

Stop, Drop and Make Out

It was like something out of a funny movie. Im sitting in Ibirapuera Mall on a bench waiting for Alex to figure out cell phone plans at Vivo having an absolute blast people watching. Then I see a young man of about 20 meet up with a young woman about the same age. They run to each other, embrace, start passionately sucking each other's faces off, clothes a miss, shirts practically coming off, hands everywhere and they did this for literally 10 minutes. I didn't know if I should leave, I felt like I was invading their privacy but instead of course I watched in hilarious amazement. Most Brazilians would laugh at me for making such a big deal about this and I realized why later. Its everywhere, people make out at stop lights, walking down the street, over a nice lunch and when I mean make out I mean the way I described it above... like they've been away at war for years and finally get to embrace. There is no reason to waste time pecking each other, just go for the gold. Its intense and according to a friend I met for dinner last night, it happens before you even exchange names at the night club. I guess you have to test drive the goods before you waste your time with conversation. I love it. That and other fun things I saw at the mall. Like half the bookstore is used to play xbox 360 dance central. Its 2pm in the afternoon on a week day and there is a huge crowd watching girl after girl do the 'Soilja boy' dance on repeat. Thats also when I realized what a great sense of pride the Brazilians have for their backside. From brand new moms carrying 2 month olds to grandmas... you gotta flaunt it. 4inch heels and tight jeans at 80? Whatever! A face may succumb to gravity with age but somehow brazilian butts never do. These women would have made soilja boy blush!

Later in the evening around 11pm we headed out to watch the Bears play the Miami Dolphins at the expat bar. We met some new friends and I got a little lost in translation. I had this great beer the day before everyone said was the good local stuff, Chopp so I tried to order it again. Instead of that being a specific kind of beer I guess that really just means 'draft'. So when the waitress brought my beer, I was eagerly awaiting a refreshing cold ale. Instead it was hot pink. Apparently I ordered a specific draft of grenadine beer. Not only was it disgustingly sweet but all the waitresses were laughing at me because I guess that is what the young girls order that haven't really learned to drink yet. Silly American. So, instead I just enjoyed watching more couples passionately sucking face since the football game wasn't nearly as entertaining.

I love Brazil.

Oh yea and I took a few pictures...

The beginnings....

We finally left in the same fashion as characterized by the last few months. Backward steps mixed with spurts of great fortune. All day was spent weighing and perfectly packing our 4 large bags so as not to be fined heavily for a single pound we didn’t actually need. When we checked in that never even crossed the Canadian Air representative’s mind. Ugh, all the shoes and shampoo I could have probably found room for! She didn’t so much as glance once at the scale!! But she did seem to pay attention to other details, like the order of my husbands name. Its simple, Richard A Pearl. He was booked in the system by his company’s travel agency as Alexander Pearl Richard. That is a big problem when the rules are rarely bent at the security check point. She basically said, well its up to their discretion as to whether or not they will let you through and if they don’t well you will have to get in touch with the travel agency tomorrow and get this fixed. Hahaha, if only you knew the ease in which THAT would happen. Well stroke of luck, they didn’t seem to care either.  If it were really necessary I would now get into finer detail about the last month of hellacious issues we’ve had just trying to book the tickets so you could truly appreciate the relief of walking through security… but it doesn’t matter at this point, what matters is that I, Jana Pearl with my husband Alexander Pearl Richard made it through successfully!  =)

So we only had 60 minutes in Toronto to catch our flight to Sao Paulo and the O’Hare flight was delayed 30 minutes. Of course it was. When we landed we made buddies with the flight attendant who cleared the aisle at landing so we could be the first off the plane. We ran an olympic sprint to passport control at 955 with our flight scheduled to depart at 1015. We were then met by a Canadian Air official who politely said to follow her as they were holding the plane for us...Well how generous, we felt so important! Still running we made it and were surprised to see such a crowd?! Well they had in fact delayed the plane, for other reasons and so really they held the plane for everyone.  The official just smiled, just another silly moment to make us appreciate how lucky we were to be sitting on that plane!!!

11 hours, lots of ridiculous turbulence and 6 episodes of Mad Men later, breakfast was served and we landed. Standing under the carport at the rental car agency Alex tried to convince me that after only an hour of practicing a stick shift in Chicago he was ready drive us into the city. We stalled three times trying to leave. Rarely am I proven right but this one was obvious and hilarious. I was really scared though, I’ve read too many expat blogs about driving in Brazil and I had hoped to ease into it. Sweaty and nervous I battled with the motor bikes, ignorance of rules and horrendous traffic. We rented a GPS which we couldn’t have survived without however even with it, the lady would demand a left and we were presented with three variations on a left so it took about two hours to drive 18 km! I learned how to put the car in reverse in front of 10 car salesman, while they watched and laughed at us as I tried to turn around. (trust me it was tricky). Then I got it, pulled out and went the wrong way and had to turn around again on a steep sloped road and was literally so close to hitting a parked car Alex had to get out and push me… ohh I wish I was exaggerating!  I may have won the road battle today, but my scars and a few stressful tears cast glim victories ahead.

So with that we arrived, settled and celebrated at a Churrascaria, an authentic version of an American Brazilian steakhouse. Caipirinhas made fresh in front of you and lots of yummy newly found comfort food.  What.an.adventure…

Pictures attached are views from our hotel and the pool which Alex bragged to his mom he would be lounging at all week. Hahaha… 

Alex, Jana meet Brazil

Finally. We've been waiting for a date, a simple date of when we would depart for the last 4 months. From visa issues to passport trauma and ticket confusion, we have seats on a plane for November 15. Alex begins work the next week so we have 4 days to find an apartment and the weekend to settle in. Lots of things to do this week but mainly celebrate and finally say goodbye to the many people we have already said goodbye to several times in the hope we would have left weeks ago. What an emotional journey and we haven't even gotten there yet. Stay tuned... Hello Brazil!

Isnt life just funny like that...

So we have been waiting and waiting for months and months for our visa's to go through. Finally everything is approved, the millions of forms are finished, the hefty payments are complete and all we need are the plane tickets and one minor detail, my passport. When I was packing to leave home and head to Denver I had a lot of things that overstuffed my suitcase taking me out of carryon size. So I packed a box of clothes to mail to myself in Chicago and at the last minute I clearly remember throwing in a bag I just didn't feel I had room for. Well in that bag was my passport. My mom mailed the box as I suggested, "you dont need to rush it mom, its just clothes so keep it cheap." Yes well that means no tracking number and a lot of time. Its been a week and no box ...no passport. I can't fill out my forms and submit them to the consulate until I have my passport. So Alex's company in Brazil is ready to buy our tickets, the consulate has our visas and every day I pace for the mail truck. I can't believe after all these months its come down to a box, floating out there in postal odyssey. Hopefully we will be on a plane early next week so we can finally begin our overdue Brazilian life. I just hope whenever I finally get that box that my passport is in deed in that bag because if it isn't well that will be another story that I hope I dont have to tell.

How Fake Money Saved Brazil

I had no idea????!!!!


Copied from NPR Planet Money
by CHANA JOFFE-WALT

This is a story about how an economist and his buddies tricked the people of Brazil into saving the country from rampant inflation. They had a crazy, unlikely plan, and it worked.

Twenty years ago, Brazil's inflation rate hit 80 percent per month. At that rate,  if eggs cost $1 one day, they'll cost $2 a month later. If it keeps up for a year, they'll cost $1,000.

In practice, this meant stores had to change their prices every day. The guy in the grocery store would walk the aisles putting new price stickers on the food. Shoppers would run ahead of him, so they could buy their food at the previous day’s price.

The problem went back to the 1950s, when the government printed money to build a new capital in Brasilia.  By the 1980s, the inflation pattern was in place.

It went something like this:

1. New President comes in with a new plan.
2. President freezes prices and/or bank accounts.
3. President fails.
4. President gets voted out or impeached.
5. Repeat.

The plans succeeded at only one thing: Convincing every Brazilian the government was helpless to control inflation.

There was one more option that no one knew about.  It was dreamed up by four guys at the Catholic University in Rio. The only reason they enter the picture now  —  or ever — is because in 1992,  there happened to be a new finance minister who knew nothing about economics.  So the minister called Edmar Bacha, the economist who is the hero of our story.

"He said, 'Well, I've just been named the finance minister. You know I don’t know economics, so please come to meet me in Brasilia tomorrow,' " Bacha recalls. "I was terrified."

Bacha had been waiting for decades for this call.

He and three friends had been studying Brazilian inflation since they were graduate students — four guys at the campus bar complaining to each other about how no one else knew how to fix this.  And now they were being told "Fine, do it your way."

Bacha was invited to meet the president.

"I asked for an autograph for my kids," Bacha says. So the president wrote Bacha's kids a note that said, "Please tell your father to work fast for the benefit of the country."

The four friends set about explaining their idea.  You have to slow down the creation of money, they explained. But, just as important, you have to stabilize people's faith in money itself.  People have to be tricked into thinking money will hold its value.

The four economists wanted to create a new currency that was stable, dependable and trustworthy.  The only catch: This currency would not be real.  No coins, no bills.  It was fake.

"We called it a Unit of Real Value — URV," Bacha says. "It was virtual; it didn't exist in fact."

People would still have and use the existing currency, the cruzeiro.  But everything would be listed in URVs, the fake currency.   Their wages would be listed in URVs.  Taxes were in URVs.  All prices were listed in URVs.  And URVs were kept stable — what changed was how many cruzeiros each URV was worth.

Say, for example, that milk costs 1 URV. On a given day, 1 URV might be worth 10 cruzeiros. A month later, milk would still cost 1 URV. But that 1 URV might be worth 20 cruzeiros.

The idea was that people would start thinking in URVs — and stop expecting prices to always go up.

"We didn't understand what it was," says Maria Leopoldina Bierrenbach, a housewife from Sao Paulo. "I used to say it was a fantasy, because it was not real."

Still, people used URVs. And after a few months, they began to see that prices in URVs were stable. Once that happened, Bacha and his buddies could declare that the virtual currency would become the country’s actual currency. It would be called the real.

"Everyone is going to receive from now on their wages, and pay for all the prices, in the new currency, which is the real," Bacha says. "That is the trick."

The day they launched the real, Bacha says, a journalist friend asked him, "Professor, do you swear that inflation will end tomorrow?"

"Yes, I swear." Bacha said.

And, basically, inflation did end, and the country's economy turned around. In the years that followed, Brazil became a major exporter, and 20 million people rose out of poverty.

"We were in awe," Bierrenbach says. "Everybody was very happy."

For more: Listen to the Planet Money podcast, "How Four Drinking Buddies Saved Brazil."

Correction:  An earlier version of this story misspelled cruzeiro in two instances.  Thanks to the commenter who pointed out the error.

reflections on growing up

I think everyone has those moments. You are in the midst of doing something and it hits you. Your back hurts more while doing something you've always done painlessly. You run into someone you knew years ago. You hear a song or smell a fragrance that takes you back in time. You think, wow was that really ten years ago? I feel so old!

My room at my parents house was frozen in high school. Memorabilia from field trips, ticket stubs from concerts, pictures from dances and dried flowers from old boyfriends were scattered around my very blue and very dated room. There was comfort in knowing nothing tangible there ever changed while I was busy... changing. My mom recalled the year I decided blue was my favorite color. I loved the smurfs, owned a blue winter jacket, wanted blue curtains and walls while wearing blue socks and shoes. It was the mid nineties and I was declaring proudly my newly establishing preferences for dress and decor. I am lucky that my room got to stay mine. It wasn't converted to a study or a sowing room, it just collected dust on those defining elements of school days.

I came home last week with the furniture I had bought years ago when I moved out to Denver as there was just no space for it in Brazil. To make room, we sold my first bedroom set given to me by my grandmother when I was about 8. I think my mom shed a few quiet tears. Then I went about redecorating and painting over the memories. Goodbye Blue. I spent three days priming and painting one 'bright white' and three 'gravity gray' walls. Down went the giant poster of a Cala lilly, the 9th grade twin day pictures, the beads from sorority events and the collection of shot glasses I once thought showing off would be so cool. I was in love with stars and galaxies so my dad pasted a glow in the dark system all over the ceiling above my bed which took forever to peel off. I went through the love notes of middle school, a complex world where my friends and I wrote pages and pages to each other during class about all the boys we 'loved'. The 'Best Friends Forever' necklaces I seemed to have shared with different friends each month and the math papers filled with dream house floorplan drawings instead of formulas. The biggest room was always noted strictly for my dogs. Over the past week I relived a decade. The items were aged yet the conversations in the letters and the people behind the pictures felt so fresh. Where did all the time go? And what do you save? Will I really sit down with my own children and show them the 200 pictures I took on a field trip to the Arlington Cemetery when I was 12?

My new room was to be grown up, organized with visually diminished amounts of stuff. But here I am having gone through containers and drawers feeling like I recyled enough to start my own center and I am still swimming in pictures and journals. I didn't realize I've been documenting every feeling and every place I've been since I was 5. Somehow before I leave in the next few days I have to finish deciphering treasures from trash.

So my grown up moment was fragrant, rich with the smell of high school football games and the music of band class even new paint can't disguise. I guess the takeaway for me is that somewhere in the significant era of a color I made some fantastic friends, traveled many places, slept beneath stars, graduated a few times and found my real best friend forever. Its amazing what a little paint can do. Goodbye Blue.

Goodnight West Loop

Move part one has arrived. Tomorrow the overseas moving company that will ship our little life to Sao Paulo is packing everything up and moving it to Alex's mothers garage. Luckily we are moving in with her for the next... what we hope is a month as we wait on the work visa. Our stuff will wait too and once we finally hop on a plane to move, visas in hand, we must find an apartment and then give the ok for them to go back to the garage and pack all our stuff up into a crate that will then ever so slowly, sail down to find us.  So today we organized what we will actually take, assuming our place will be small. It was emotional to take down pictures and disassemble our chicago life. We ordered pizza from our favorite place, cracked open the balcony door for a great fall breeze and watched NFL all day. That was not my choice, but I've never see a happier man than one that got to watch 4 back to back games so how could I interrupt that? The thrill of the day however came when we managed to fill 14 bags worth of goodwill material! I drove over there THREE TIMES! Each more delightful than the last. Clothes, duplicate pans, books, vases, old random glasses, college koozies, spices, dishes and only one wedding gift (shhhh). Originally we wanted to have a garage sale to make a little cash but I am so glad we canned that idea and just gave it away. I was picturing the people that always sit around the table at our local goodwill and read (yes I seem to walking by often), enjoying my dusty Pillars of the Earth. I used to love showcasing every book I've ever read but both of us have our masters and unlike college you actually want to keep all your books (for obvious reasons but mainly because you finally understand the dollar signs representing each...I know I should have realized this in undergrad but I didn't sorry). 

This slow transition south is proving to be quite rewarding.  I doubt our new brazilian friends will spend much time browsing our bookshelves anyways; theres more important things to do like drink caipirinha's and eat hundreds of Pao de queijo (incredible cheese rolls). I know I'll miss football and homemade pizza company pizza among other things, but Ill be damned if we haven't picked another good place for football and cheesy bread!

Its the last night here at home, the chapter comes to a close. The empty walls are lonely, there are only a few lights left on in the buildings around, the annoying yapper dog is still yapping and my old belongings are awaiting new homes down on Washington street.  Goodnight West Loop, goodnight Larry the security guard who loves nights when we have leftovers, goodnight Jo at the cleaners and all the doggies at the new park, for you will always have a special place in my memory, homes always do. 

There is comfort in ritual

I feel like I'm standing on a ledge. Behind me is my day to day life, full of familiarity and comfort. Ahead is a blank canvas of unknown. It can take form in opportunity or despair. Its my choice. But its like walking in the fog. I don't know what I want to do with my life and everything up to this point seemed so clear. Most people I've spoken with recently in the midst of discussing leaving, have professed jealously in my new abilities. I can sleep in, I can watch Oprah, I can have time for the things we never seem to have time for. And yes, that will be fun for a few weeks. But there is something to be said for consistency (and a paycheck). For most our jobs are what we use to arrange the rest of our lives around. We schedule time with loved ones, vacations and weekend respite around what is always most steady. As we build our careers we wed, breed, build, upgrade, shop and errand. With this job, my first job, I have built a sturdy base. It takes the form of junior, associate, senior and principle. Each is attached to earning power and people power. Is that my path?! In no way do I want to discredit that direction because it is very respectable. I am just trying to figure out if that is where I want to go. So I connect this post to a picture I took in Cuba. Oh how I crave to go back to Cuba. With all its messy government and dilapidated buildings the colors and people of Cuba just need some polish (well that is of course a metaphor for everything, they need better structure, income, freedom...food...they need a lot of things). But it is and they are... beautiful even in their current state.

So today I say goodbye to the comfort zone, the consistent next step in the stairway that equals 40+ hours of my week, 200 some of my month and what feels like a hell of a lot of my year. Years behind and ahead. But a shout out to the things I will oh so miss.


-The wonderful secretary that greets me every morning and calls me on her operator line to tell me when there are cookies and candy in the conference room..its really the little things that make a day good to great
-My friends in the Water and Transportation Dept that also keep an eye on the candy levels knowing i usually show up when they are plentiful or when something major in hollywood occurs and there is need for discussion
-My space with my pictures and my plant that is taking over my desk
-Trips to the kitchen that usually incorporate a lot more than more water or lunch
-The old man on my bus route that holds books an inch from his face and today he was reading, "Dont Sweat the Small Stuff." how appropriate
-The work, be it thrilling or tedious... the work has always been an adventure and has really helped me to realize options for the next step
-The view over the lake that on summer days looks like Mexico and in the dead of winter... well looks dead
-The fact that the lights go out after 6pm and the heater gets set to 60 on the weekends during winter. They sadly assume the whole building works 8-5 m-f
-And most of all the people...my coworkers. Mentors and friends, to which I listen and take note. The wonderful people that turn bad days into smiles and keep everything else in check. People derail the lemmings, stop the madness or add to the madness... make the world more interesting. They are the polish and the comfort.

Thank you

find what you love and get paid to do it

Thanks to an old friend from Denver and MasterCard I finally understand the thrill of doing what you love as work. Labor Day for me wasn't a relaxing one, but it surely was fun. A group of MasterCard holders from Mexico City and neighboring townships won a "Priceless" weekend in Chicago.  My friend works on the MasterCard account and needed a photographer. At first, I recommended several professionals, but in the end I nervously decided I could give it a try. We ate at classic Chicago establishments like the original Morton's, and toured the architecture of downtown and Hyde Park and Sunday we had batting practice with the cubs. If meeting incredibly sweet people and capturing their joy is a job requirement, sign me up for life! Here's a little taste of the weekend.

Those were just a few of the 814 pictures they went home with. 

Thank you for the opportunity James. 

Hope everyone had a wonderful Labor Day Weekend!

bring your own....stove?

Before Alex came back, he spent the day looking at potential apartments. In the areas we would 'like' to live in Sao Paulo, rent prices are on par with those in Manhattan. 'Like' translating to safe and near the highway as less time driving means more time living....literally (driving can be quite dangerous).

Our stylish little loft in the West Loop runs around 800 sq ft and is quite full. Looks like we are about to downsize. Most of my friends that have gotten married recently have purchased homes and wonderful new things to fill them with. In accordance with our 'road less traveled' plan, I've just learned we will be minimizing. However, fortunately we still get to purchase a few little things for our new home as well.

Like.... a stove, a refrigerator and a microwave. Yep, in all the places he saw, you bring your own. Goodbye marble counters, stainless steel double fridges, a washer and dryer and built-in microwaves. I've been so spoiled! We've had cabinets in the bathroom (in the apartments he saw its just a standing sink and shower), a bedroom that fits a queen bed AND a dresser (yep those bedrooms barely fit a bed) and...heres the kicker....CLOSETS! Yep, in a few of the places he saw no closets. Im on the lookout for a larger stove so it can double as my shoe storage!

The positive highlights? A fantastic pool and community area. Because most spaces in the buildings he looked at were smaller, people mingle and eat together. There were large kitchens by the pool area with tables for large gatherings and wonderful amenities. Much like cluster housing designs, learning to share communal space breeds socially supportive and environmentally responsible living. Don't worry, if you come visit us we will have a wonderful blow up mattress for you. You might be sleeping in the kitchen/dining room/fridge/oven/closet but we will make it work =)

As a fellow expat blogger wrote, "we have re-learned the joys of personal relationships as life enhancers." As we prepare to unstuff ourselves we also look forward to kicking off our first year of marriage in tight quarters and meeting lots of wonderful people. You cant argue with that trade off!

We are All Americans

Last night Mayor Bloomberg held a very insightful dinner amidst heavy criticism over the proposed Cultural Center in New York's Ground Zero. He supports the Park51 Project as do I however he was much better at articulating why. Americans always seem to live in fear. Fear of what we don't know, what we don't understand and as its becoming more and more comfortable its breeding some pretty twisted behavior. This should not define the elections in November but serve as a distinct shift in our Nation's maturity. Who are we to judge which religion gets space to build their faith. If it were a protestant church we wouldn't be having this debate. As Bloomberg states below, we must always lead by example. Isn't that what we teach our children?

----

Stephen Prothero wrote today about Bloomberg's remarks.

{"The community center can and must be built at the Park51 site, he said. Anything less would “compromise our commitment to fighting terror with freedom." During his remarks, Bloomberg welcomed Talat Hamdani, whose son, Salman Hamdani, a paramedic and Ne York City Police Department cadet, died on 9/11. He also welcomed Sakibeh and Asaad Mustafa, whose children, he said, “have served our country overseas.”

Bloomberg brought home the point that the propaganda war now being waged on Islam in America threatens to undercut our counterinsurgency battle for "hearts and minds" in Iraq and Afghanistan. “If we do not practice here at home what we preach abroad–if we do not lead by example–we undermine our soldiers,” he said. “We undermine our foreign policy objectives. And we undermine our national security."

“In that spirit," Bloomberg concluded, in words that echoed John F. Kennedy's "Ich bin ein Berliner" speech, "let me declare that we in New York are Jews and Christians and Muslims, and we always have been. And above all of that, we are Americans, each with an equal right to worship and pray where we choose. There is nowhere in the five boroughs that is off limits to any religion."}

*Stephen Prothero, a Boston University religion scholar and author of "God is Not One: The Eight Rival Religions that Run the World."

Visa frustrations

Alex landed, settled and began our new life in Sao Paulo. I am coming in a month as soon as I finish up my job and get the move organized. Two weeks in however, he is now coming back. Since he is his company's first american it is trial and error for both. His Visa is somewhere in the piles of government documents in Brasilia and he is flying home to wait it out. Their idea of efficiency is slightly different than ours so we could potentially be waiting for a while. I know he is very frustrated wanting to work, ready to work and trying to work however knowing he is coming back for just a few more weeks in chicago....I can't help but smile. These nuances are reminders of why we are moving to another country. We will get there eventually, and when we do I honestly cannot wait to throw ourselves into this crazy cultural mixing bowl and see where it takes us. Till then I get my husband back for a few weeks and we might just get to leave together this time.

a vida é boa

My American Life

As the sun sets on life here in the US, change is upon me...again. I've moved now about every three years since college, each time hesitant. Usually I embark knowing very few people if any at all and I'm full of curiosity and sadness. Did I make the right decision, will I make friends, will I find happiness, what things about that place will define me?! Colorado brought amazing friendships, best friendships in fact and an absolute passion for the mountains and my future career choice. As I drove away down highway 70 I was leaving the place where I really found myself. In my rear view I had my girls, my apartment, my lifestyle and ahead was a boy and a lot of questions.

It snowed a lot that first winter and I worked all the time. Rarely seeing Alex and my only good friend here I wondered if I had made the right choice. My job kept me from any girls nights as it was hard to find time for wine when I rarely had any hours of sleep. But spring came, life picked up and cafe tables popped up along the wide sidewalks I figured only for snow storage. I slowly started to make a group of friends and developed a passion for food I never thought possible. Alex and I got engaged and life was pretty perfect. Even some of my best friends ended up moving here right before I am to depart. And here we go again.

Im trying to stay strong amidst all the apprehension consuming me yet again, because I know in the end it will be a wonderful experience. If my american life has taught me anything, its that a new place can tell you things about yourself you didn't always know or understand and I think its important to be patient and learn as much as you can from that experience. But most of all, its taught me that friendships take time but once solid they are the foundation for happiness. I wouldn't have met such incredible people in college if it weren't for the girls I grew up with that set such a high standard, and so forth to Denver... Chicago and all the places in between.

I challenge you Brazil, not that the friends and the places get better, for I have had the best, but that I just gain a few more along the journey.

The NEW Brazil

"If the rise of Brazil was cast as a childhood story rather than a dry economics tract, the fable might go something like this.

Once upon a time, there was a skinny boy who was bullied at school. Every time there was a fight in the playground, he seemed to end up as the punchbag. The boy rarely complained, even though his sorry state did not match the glorious fate about which he often daydreamed. That just seemed to be the way things were.

One day, a new teacher arrived, bringing with him some new games for the classroom. These playthings distracted the big boys, and the fighting stopped. The skinny boy used the calm to do exercises, recommended by his canny stepmother, who also fed him a special soup to make him strong.

All good things come to end, however. The games broke, as they always do, and tempers flared again in the playground. This time, however, the big boys no longer bullied the skinny boy. He had become lean and fit, while they had grown fat and clumsy. Instead of pushing him around, they even seemed to look up to him. Standing in the school yard, blinking in the sun, the boy reveled in his new status. Would it last? He wanted to make sure it would.

The skinny boy is, of course, Brazil. His bullies are the financial markets of developed economies, the new games are the soothing palliative of the noughties credit boom, and the latest school-ground fight is the global financial crisis. His stepmother is China, the special soup he ate the commodity boom that has boosted Brazil’s economy, and his exercises represent the macroeconomic stabilization policies Brazil put in place in the mid-1990s. The result, in this simple tale first told by Brazilian commentator Ricardo Amorim, is the new Brazil: a slightly gangly adolescent, standing tall amid the world community, not fully grown into its new stature but confident and eager to make its mark."

An excerpt from The Financial Times, "South America’s giant comes of age"
By John Paul Rathbone

As I head to Brazil, I feel slightly the same, not fully grown, but confident and eager to make a mark....