actually crazy

About three weeks ago I went to Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. I must admit, before the trip I embarrassingly ignorant about Brazil. When I thought of Brazil, the first three things that came to mind were: Brazilian barbeque, Blanka from Street Fighter, and Adriana Lima.

After asking people at work, and poking around on the internet, I was pretty frightened of the country; I got the impression that I was about to enter a war zone. Regardless, I still wanted to go. I spent about a month beforehand listening to Brazilian-Portuguese podcasts, reading my guidebook, and psyching myself up for the trip by reading about plane crashes and kidnappings.

I ended up having a fantastic time— everyone I encountered in Brazil was so warm and friendly. And I love how Portuguese sounds. I even met one guy who lived France for a few years, because his mom is French, so he has dual-citizenship. My first reaction was to get down on one knee and propose.

Since I enjoy ranking things, I would place Rio de Janeiro a notch below Barcelona, and Sao Paulo a notch below Los Angeles, in my list of favorite cities. I prefer pedestrian-friendly cities, packed with lots of museums and things to see, so the idea of sitting idly on a beach all day isn’t very appealing to me. Maybe when I get older, but not right now when I’m arthritis-free and can walk for days. Despite what I’ve said, I can’t wait to go back. I loved the little huts lining the beach that sell fresh coconuts and beer. And I loved the food and trying all the different fruits from the Amazon. There are other things I love about Rio and Sao Paulo, but those are the ones I can remember right now (probably because those are the things that matter most to me).

Seeing a soccer game was one of the highlights, because they are so fun and intense! Being a fan of a team automatically signs you up to be a part of the chorus— every one sings throughout the game and there’s even a drummer in the audience. I was told that no alcohol is served because people can’t control themselves, and no bottles are allowed because boys will pee in it and throw it at the other team. This was a game between Vasco and Flamengo, two soccer teams from Rio:

Rio de Janeiro during the day:

The weather was awful, but I still got to see the tourist hotspots, like Sugar Loaf and Christ the Redeemer.

Sugar Loaf:

Christ the Redeemer statue, which, even though I was standing right in front of it, I could only see a vague outline because it was so foggy:

Rio at night, taken from Sugar Loaf:

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I’m moving in with my good friend Diana and am pretty excited about it. My landlord asked me why I didn’t recruit my friends to help me move, and I told him that I’m not that mean. I hired movers this time, because frankly my desk is too big and heavy to carry down 5 flights of stairs, and also I don’t want to deal with finding parking for a U-Haul in my new neighborhood. The movers thought it was funny that I packed most of my belongings in double-bagged, kitchen-sized trash bags.

I’m a little sad though, because when I moved to San Francisco two years ago, I really thought that the next time I moved it would be to my newly-renovated Greenwich Village condo that would somehow magically pay off itself. What can I say? I dream big.

Since I haven’t eaten since 9am, I think I’m justified to rank my neighborhood haunts. I’m so hungry that the playing field is level and I’m not leaning towards any particular cuisine tonight. So here is a list of my favorite restaurants in the Inner (and parts of the Outer) Richmond.

1. Burma Superstar
2. Sushi Bistro
3. Shabu House
4. Han Il Kwan
5. Kabuto
6. Khan Toke
7. My Tofu House
8. Good Luck Dim Sum
9. Brothers

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For the past month I’ve had a stuffy nose and swollen left eye. It doesn’t bother me too much— I can still see my computer screen and the swelling is not that noticeable— but I went to get it checked out by my eye doctor for reassurance.

I’ve never had allergies before, so I was pretty surprised when she told me that there’s something in the San Francisco air that I’m allergic to. I asked her if I moved to some place else, say, Paris or NY, would I be cured? And she said maybe! It depends on what’s there. I understood this to mean yes.

Lately I’ve been trying to think of what I’m exposed to on a daily basis here, that I was not in Los Angeles:

1. Clean air
2. Fog
3. California Cuisine
4. Walking long distances (i.e. two blocks or more)
5. Homeless people

I’m going to have an allergy test done in two months so we’ll see if my guesses are correct.

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