Loving the show
The kiddos and I went on a mini adventure today. In actuality, it wasn't a real adventure at all but did come with a lesson.
You see, today is Corpus Cristi and thus a holiday in a very Catholic country of Brazil. Since the boys were off school but Mr. Rant still had to work, I decided to take them to CCBB (Centro Cultural Banco do Brasil). It's an awesome place, is free to get in, and is only a metro ride and short walk away from home.
Of course, that short walk was in a deserted downtown and a half empty metro. Combine that with my oldest's loud English speaking and you have yourself a bit of a concern.
There I was, on the metro with my curious 4 yr old asking 3 billion questions and everyone staring. This didn't bother me too much but I decided to have a little chat with him about a new rule. New rule, when it's just him, his little brother, and Mommy in downtown Rio de Janeiro we speak in Portuguese. He was not stoked on it but went along anyway.
Well, he went along for about 2.5 minutes until he forgot or stopped caring or something. And this really isn't a big deal but we were at a spot between CCBB and the metro that was empty except for a few less than desirable potential conversation buddies.
That was when we started to get checked out, and not in the sexually harassing way. For the first time in a long time, I felt vulnerable. There I was on my own with two little boys and at a point in the road where there was no one to see if anyone decided that I was a good mark. While giving up my purse isn't a huge deal by any means, I would prefer for my kids not to experience that less than secure feeling.
I shushed the boys while scooping up my little one and pulling my oldest to walk faster. The looks I was receiving from one special male loiterer were less than comforting. That became double when he stopped another non-gentleman to discuss me and my child. Awesome.
But I could see workmen up ahead working on a building. Once I got near them I'd be fine. And I did and we were. I did, however, have to explain to my ever observant 4 yr old why the men were looking at us funny and if they were bad guys. Fun stuff.
However, once we entered into the wonderful world of somewhat interactive art, all was forgotten. Although we did get a taxi home.