Thursday, November 5, 2009

Junk in the Trunks

Brasilians have an issue with time and keeping appointments. I should have remembered this from my mission, but somehow, I'd forgotten. But tonight I re-learned the lesson. (the third time in the past week).

A guy wanted to meet for dinner. Sure, we set a time, a place, exchanged numbers. I show up and after 30 minutes left because he didn't show or call.

I then get a message 2 1/2 hours later saying he had to work late. Sorry, lets do it Friday or Sunday. No remorse, no issue...he just couldn't make it.

I'm trying to GRILL him, but in my limited language, I'm sure it's not having as much PLAY TIME and STING as it should. And in reality, I know this is the culture. I should just get used to it...you NEVER know if someone's gonna return a call when they say, show up for an appointment, meet at a certain time, etc. Scheduling repairmen or changes to a house--I hear-- are a nightmare.

If they actually have the Olympics on the days they've promised, I'll be surprised.

One thing they are on time for...Soccer games.

ONE BIG SWEAT BALL

I have to find a gym with air conditioning. I'm not kidding. This one week gym deal without the A/C is about to kill me. By the time I leave, my gym clothes are so soaked they're as though I was walking in NOAH's rain storm.

And today, the city was MUGGY and hot. And summer is just begining. I knew my new room should have required A/C but it doesn't have it. This living like and amongst the natives might have a shorter life span than I expected. :)

But around 6 again today I walked down to the beach and took a dip. It was so refreshing. So beautiful.

UNCLE LORYN WOULD BE PROUD

I've noticed that the men/boys here have a lot in common with Uncle Loryn. As a kid, I couldn't help noticing that about every couple of minutes Uncle Loryn would adjust his JUNK down there. Maybe a nervous hitch, discomfort, heat...I wasn't sure, but I do remember him always doing this.

Or MAYBE Uncle Loryn was Brasilian.

Even young boys here are constanting adjusting their junk. It's like every few minutes/seconds..oops adjust.

Isn't it funny that things like that are so cultural. Men in American don't do that, or if they do, they are very careful to be discreet about it.

But down here, you could be talking to Mother Teresa and they'll still be rearranging the furniture.

I remember in China when I was there, they spit about 100 times more than we do. Culturally, they've learned to not swallow, but spit that stuff out. I found it gross...they have spittons all over the city and even older women like to do it.

Here they adjust.

Spitting and Adjusting--Americans are so behind the curve.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

So I've been studying the language more each day. Spending about 2 hours going through some books I brought with me. And I was thinking today as I walked down the street...I'm understanding more of what people are saying...but still if I'm not engaged in the coversation, I'm only getting baout 60 percent of everything they say.

I thought back to my mission. I know at first I was LOST. I got almost nothing people were saying.

But the weird thing is, I THINK I could pretty much understand everything, and they me, after the two years. I don't recall for sure, maybe I was dillusional, but I think I was doing pretty well. NOW GRANTED, I'm only here a month, but I still think I have a long way to get to fluency again.

I get by, I mean I can MAKE it through the day, but I'm far from fluent right now.

I'll keep trying.

DHL SPOTTING

I saw a DHL vehicle today. Yep, they're here. I was walking down the street and parked on the sidewalk was a little motorcylce with a basked on the back that said DHL. Yep, there's my lawsuit in action--a huge international company driving around on a 50 cc motorbike.

I'm tired. Good night.




1 comment:

  1. Brett, you without air conditioning is me after a run. I love that you are getting a little bit of my life.
    How do you expect me to quit coveting when you keep talking about the beautiful beaches? Stop it!
    Love you,

    ReplyDelete