Inside the Bloco: Rio de Janeiro Carnaval

Last night I went to the scene of my very first bloco of my very first Carnaval during my very first visit to Rio de Janeiro. That was in 2003 and the same bloco is still going on in 2012. It has changed a bit. The 50 friends have multiplied into one hell of a scene.

None the less, it still has the family feel and I really enjoyed travelling down memory lane last night. Here are some videos for you to see for yourself.

Slacklining Pedra da Gavea: Wordless Wednesday Video

Slacklining can be looked at as some poser sport people do on the beach. On the other hand, it can be a f*cking cool extreme sport. I thought I'd share a video of some Brazilian slackliners slacklinging at Pedra da Gavea. Not only are they shirtless and the scenery amazing, it's also crazy what they are doing!

Would you do this?

Highline Pedra da Gavea (Gavea Stone) - Rio de Janeiro - Brasil from Allan Pinheiro on Vimeo.

Rio de Janeiro on Public Urination

Thank you Globo for the fabulous picture!

This weekend 96 people committing the unforgivable act of urinating in the streets of this great city were arrested. 13 were women.

While I would LOVE to be able to say "Thank goodness they arrested those uncivilized folk," I have been to far too many blocos to say it with a straight face. Hell, there is a damn good possibility that I urinated in the street 96 times my first Rio de Janeiro Carnaval. In my defense, that was before the city was kind enough to place 1 port-o-potty per 50 people at the site of a bloco. Actually, when I started the Rio de Janeiro Carnaval bloco scene the city didn't even get involved unless it was one of the ridiculously large traditional ones.

Also, if you haven't ever walked by a bloco and seen the urinals don't worry, I'm sure if you concentrated you can smell them from where you are. Let's not forget the fabulous bloco urinal pictured above. It's all about class. FYI, don't step in the puddle circling the base...

And while it is essentially wrong to pee in the street, disgusting even, imagine how it is for the bloco attendee. Let me look back and retrieve a memory from my wild Carnaval days. Take the big downtown blocos that start at something like 8am. You get there and you start drinking beer. By your 3rd beer you really have to pee, plus your already finding questionable people attractive. You just may be buzzed. Are you going to go search for a public bathroom when it's impossible to find one between 9 to 5 on a normal business day. No, you are going to squat behind a car and just go with the urine flow. Is it right? Not really. Is it a fact of Carnaval life? Very much so.

As for the 13 women arrest, WTF?! Do you know how much of a bitch it is for us to squat and pee in the street with hundreds of strangers around us? For a woman you either have to pee like a Rhino or you are seriously drunk. Either way, it is an emergency situation. That goes double if your friend found a vendor who would sell you 2 beers for R$5.

Regardless of all of this, if the city of Rio de Janeiro isn't going to arrest people for pissing in the streets everyday why the hell are they bothering during Carnaval? 

SOC: Carnaval can be ANNOYING

Carnaval season has arrived in Rio de Janeiro. While this used to be a fun event, I feel that it is a little out of control. Yesterday, 2 weeks or so before the actual start of Carnaval, there were 21 blocos (street parties). 21! And with the use of social media such as Facebook and Twitter, these blocos are not the small-ish neighborhood parties they used to be.

We are talking full on parties. Traffic stopped, loud music, government installed port-o-potties. It starts the calendar checking phase. During the weekends (and Thursdays and Fridays) I will be checking the Globo bloco calender. I will be checking where and when blocos are happening so that the boys and I don't end up getting stuck somewhere in the city. 

This kind of thing used to be fun. Mr Rant and I would randomly run into a bloco while out and join in. That or, since we were normally on foot or mass transit, work our way around it. Now with two kids in car seats waiting in a hot car, it sucks. Not only that, it's quite freaky to get stuck on foot in a bloco while trying to walk home from the grocery store. You don't understand, these blocos stop time wherever they are happening. 

And while I know it is all in good fun, it's sometimes too much. When living on Rua das Laranjeiras we had blocos every weekend preceding Carnaval and every day during Carnaval. 

Thankfully Mr. Rant will be returning from his snowboarding trip before the real festivities begin and we will be able to escape to the countryside. Until then, I will be spending these husbandless weekends first checking to make sure we can get out of the house and back without having to samba our way home.

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…
Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.Link up your post .Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Expat Adaptation and American Haters

A reader of mine, Marcio, asked two interesting questions in the comment section of my post  I Love my Gyno. No, they are not questions about my vagina, gyno, nor anything else related.

1. When does an Expat start feeling Brazilian, does your Brazilians friends/family consider you a Brazilian? 

I have been in Rio de Janeiro for 6 consecutive years now and I do not consider myself a Brazilian. I'm not. I'm American, born and raised. And that isn't a pride thing for my country but a stated fact. Of course I have picked up Brazilian traits. Hell, I even eat using a knife and a fork. I think Americans would string me up for that one.

There is always a need to compare how at home you are because Brazil is quite different. I do feel at home. I started feeling at home when I started understanding why and how things work here. A big part was being able to communicate with people and completing tasks without having to ask for help. When I went into small claims court and started the process of suing a company all by myself, well that made me feel pretty damn adapted! Keep in mind I also celebrated the first time I managed to order a pizza over the phone as well.

I find that Brazilians love to call foreigners Brazilians. My immediate reaction is to say "I'm a Carioca at heart." That is a true statement for me. I love a lot of the ways here. I feel at home in Rio. That being said, I still have days where I want to get on the next damn plane out of here. See, still a foreigner.

As for the family, they started considering me a Brazilian when I stopped being the quiet one at family lunches and actually became a part of them. That was the first sign. The other part that seems to amaze them is my raising my kids here. I don't know what aspect of it amazes them but they seem to be pretty pleased that I manage it.

2. I don't want to start a fight so if anti-americanism in Brazil is off-topic just ignore please. I think there is a little anti-americanism in Brazil most due to historical reason (search "brother sam operation" and you see what I mean) and bit of jealous mixed with back-slash but I always thought that brazilian would connect to you on a individual level - like bad mouth US government and politics for half an hour and them invite you for dinner with hi/her family...

I have dealt with my fair share of anti-americanism here. One evening I had to sit across from some ass at a bar wearing a shirt that said I (with two planes) and a picture of the World Trade Center on it (a horrible play on the I heart NY shirts). It was very difficult to not throw my glass at his head.

I generally avoid going into politics and such here as Americans are blamed for everything. We are blamed for the wars we start and at the same time the ones we refuse to get involved with. We started the Brazilian military dictatorship.  Actually, we have appointed all dictators in South America.... Bad example as it is quite possible that the US did. Anyway, I have had people talk to me as if I have the power to make a call and end a war. Sorry, it doesn't quite work like that.

Of course these bad experiences have a tendency to overshadow the good. Generally I have been welcomed regardless of my nationality. Pretty much, even if criticizing, Brazilians have been like you suggested "bad mouth US government and politics for half an hour and them invite you for dinner with hi/her family". 


At any rate it isn't that important. I am not overly sensitive with the hating the US thing.


How about you guys?

Wordless Wednesday: Rio de Janeiro

Photo by: Urbanpeek

Rio de Janeiro Buildings Collapse and Media Worries About Games

Photo from: http://www.nst.com.my

Reuters has a thing or two to learn about class and holding their tongue. Rio de Janeiro had 3 buildings collapse last night next to the principal plaza Cinelandia. Thankfully it was later at night and thus the building and downtown area were generally empty in comparison to how it is during the day. The things that killed me was the first paragraph of Pedro Fonseca and Rodrigo Viga Gaier online "article" about what happened. Check it out:

A building collapsed in downtown Rio de Janeiro late on Wednesday, according to local media, in the latest incident highlighting the failure of authorities to improve the city's infrastructure amid preparations to host soccer's World Cup and the Olympics.

Seriously?! It just shows the lack of preparations because the swimming competition was obviously going to held in those buildings right now. And the fact that Rio de Janeiro hasn't just demolished all building, seeing that it is a 3rd world country and therefore everything is dangerous, and built the entire city from scratch is just ridiculous. The honor of hosting the World Cup and the Olympics should be stripped from this damned country and brought somewhere else!

Screw you guys. If office buildings collapsed in London 2 years before the World Cup the first response wouldn't be that they are unprepared for the games. You would focus on the efforts of the firemen, the distressed families, and the history of the area where it happened. I doubt anyone would ever say, "Look at that. This tragedy is a sign that London (or Athens or wherever) is unprepared."

I understand that there is an infrastructural issue with the games coming here and that people are concerned. I get it and it is a reasonable fear. But seriously, your stupid little games do not get to cast a shadow on everything that happens in this country. Get your head out of your ass, those are games and this is life. Buildings collapsed and people were injured. Many were rescued and there is fear that some are still trapped. Just a tad too early to be taking this and making it about your games.

And just to mention something that is quite obvious, you knew what you were getting into when you chose Brazil. It's not like the country appeared out of nowhere a couple of days ago. You made your bed, now lie in it and look pretty. 

Carnaval - My Old Photos: Wordless Wednesday

Some photos from a Santa Teresa bloco in 2005

The Poor Brazilian Man

Oh the poor Brazilian man. You are always the object of debate or fascination. You are called charming and untrustworthy. We foreigner women hate your blatant attention and yet complain when we aren't receiving it. You can never win! Wait, or do you always win?

The Brazilian man can openly compliment not one or two women but all of them. And they aren't necessarily being inggenuine. They just love ALL women. Honestly, part of me buys this. Just look at the kilo restaurants Rio de Janeiro is famous for. Nothing a Brazilian likes more than being able to go in and try a little bit of every kind of something.

I started thinking about this after reading an article in the Huffington post. In it the writer goes over why she has lost her sexy mojo when it comes to Brazilian men. They just don't compliment her as much. One of the possible reasons being because she darkened her hair. That or because she is "giving off an inaccessible vibe."

I could see that but not in the way that she is thinking. The Brazilian man is not deterred easily. They are persistent if anything. What changes after being here a while is that you stop hearing it. It is kind of like the noise of the city, you get used to it after a while. The "linda" (beautiful) and the obnoxious hisses start to blend in with the fruit guy yelling about bananas, the traffic, and general people movement.

Though I can give you some advice if you want to notice the attention again. Get pregnant. I'm dead serious. While I am not the favorite body type of the Brazilian man, while pregnant I was harassed more than a woman would be walking around naked. I'm telling you, at least Carioca men seemed inappropriately turned on by my baby belly. I couldn't go anywhere, ANYWHERE, without being aggressively whistled at, linda-ed, and hit on.

What do you think, is a pregnant woman that sexy or is it just a Brazilian thing?  

Rio de Janeiro Lets Sewage Flow

Upon arriving in Rio de Janeiro for the first time, I remember Mr. Rant telling me to NOT step in puddles. He didn't care if it had just rained or if the road was flooding, avoid all water on the street at all costs. Sure, no one likes wet shoes or feet but what was the big deal?

I'll tell you what, sewage! This city is a ticking time bomb for piss and crap spills. At any given time in most neighborhoods, especially after a particularly good rain shower, you will see "liquids" coming out from under the big lids to the sewer system. Sometimes you even see a turd and some partially broken down toilet paper. Classy right?

Wrong. It is disgusting. Really, it is something that I just can't mentally process how it is ok. I mean, Rio de Janeiro police were giving out tickets to people peeing in the streets at Carnaval last year but would it count if they had found a leaky sewer system and peed into the pee? I mean, it's all the same thing right? If they give the pee-er a ticket shouldn't the pee-er be able to give the government one back for essentially doing the same thing only 300 times worse? The government should get a ticket for each person of the estimated amount of people needed for that size of leak.

This all comes up because there is a particularly annoyingly large hole and sewage leak in front of my building. The city's way of handling it is to put up two ruler sized sticks and a piece of red plastic, making a path for pedestrians to pass in front by going into the street "safely". The plastic has already fallen down but what can you expect after it being up for 3 weeks.

Of course this may be a building issue if the pipe is ours and not the city's...

And while I'm bitching, Mr. Rant has the gull to optimistically say "At least the puddle is much smaller. It is an improvement." Yes, I can thank the Gods of rain for not pouring down on us but what about the government whom we pay a ridiculous amount of taxes to? The building who we pay condominium payments? Maybe they could come by and, I don't know, stop something that we Americans would consider a bio-hazard...

Ah well, at least it explains why Mr. Rant get so grossed out by my wearing Havaianas while walking around the city. Still, this is one thing about this city that gives me that big ewwwwww feeling.  

Xtravaganza!

I was chosen for an Xtravaganza Interview over at Impossibly Glamorous! You can check it out here:

Xtravaganza Interview Hot Mama

Expats, Goodbyes, and Where Are the Grandbabies?!

Saying goodbye to my parents is a difficult thing. The fact that after 3 weeks in my small apartment neither is going home in a body bag is a testament to how much I actually do enjoy their company.

The thing is that when you are married to a foreigner you only see their family for blocks of time. Take Mr. Rant for example. He spends about 3 weeks a year straight with my family, if we are lucky. The only reason it is that much is because my parents are awesome enough to travel to Rio de Janeiro over and over again. They could be normal and say that this year they are going to Italy but no, my Mom won't have it. There are no grandbabies in Italy.

And Grandbabies really do mess up the expat system. There is no "it's only been a year" when kids are involved. In a year a kid has passed through 37 personalities, 2 difficult phases, a million photos, and about 3 honestly cute moments. That is a lot for an expat's family to miss. Let's not even get into close friends.

My saving grace is my life here. I have a life in Rio de Janeiro. I have my Mommy friends, my Brazilian friends, my Brazilian Mommy friends, and my fellow expat friends. I am doubly lucky because I have Mr. Rant's large extended family to top it all off. I'm talking a mega social 3000 calorie banana slip with around 3 cherries on top.

None-the-less, they aren't my history. Growing up you imagine raising your kids with their cousins, their aunts and uncles coming over for birthdays. Your best friends are supposed to be there to see you get fat... I mean really pregnant. You miss the people who, when your 3 year old storms off and slams his bedroom door (only to open it again for a second dramatic slam), laugh at you because he is just like you. The feeling is somewhat lost when your husband's family would give you that curious look like who did that come from. Thank you very much but we all know it came from me. At the very least you could mock me about it like my kin do. ;)

It is a fact of life when you marry someone from a different country. Someone is always far from home. Home also has a special definition as the expat just may have more than one. I, for example, call Rio de Janeiro my home. It is so my home now. I am only getting in deeper people.

In the end you resign yourself to the facts. You even come up with coping methods. Of course people will visit. You will also go back. Your children will be multicultural, how great is that. Skype rocks even with a slow connections. And lastly, who needs personal contact when Grandma is an awesome box sender.

Truth be told, I doubt I would ever have appreciated my family like I do now if I didn't move to Rio. It isn't just the distance but what the country has taught me about life. As hard as goodbyes are, I'm a better person than I was. I suppose that is what life is all about, right? Bettering yourself, learning, and living.

Whatever life is about, I miss my family. I love seeing my parents. I miss my brothers desperately. It breaks my heart daily that they aren't my boys' best friends. At least I have perspective, damn perspective, to remind me that I have a damn good life. Missing people means that I have a lot of people who I love and love me in return. I suppose there is something to say about that. 

Rio de Janeiro's Rocinha

Rio de Janeiro is like a family, a family with estranged children.

Visiting Rocinha, you could see the family resemblance. She looks like a sibling of my neighborhood only closer together and much more on top of each other. Then there is the obvious, more neglected by their parent the government. The thing about ignoring children is that it does not make them go away. Quite often, it just makes them hungrier for life. That was my first impression of Rocinha, a very concentrated center of life.

In Rocinha you have a large grouping of people who have all but been ignored by big government. They are our maids, bus drivers, tour guides, and trash men. They carry our city on their back, literally, with their labor. They are honest people who work hard and then climb up a large hill to their home, the view reminding them that as neglectful as their city can be it is still beautiful.

As I walked through the busy streets and down the narrow alleys, I saw a lot of things.  I saw newly washed laundry hanging. There were toys sitting on the windowsill in the sun. I saw welcome mats in front of alley doors and people sitting in windows saying hello to passerbyers. There were families chatting with neighbors, little babies breastfeeding and kids playing near their Mothers.

I saw people there. I saw people living their lives. And you know what, they are damn resourceful people! Take the mail system. In Rio de Janeiro, as in everywhere, you have to have an address to receive mail. 90% of the residents of Rocinha live in the little alleys that don't even have names (though they are starting to put some in). Did they throw their hands up in surrender? Nope. Someone found a solution.

Members of the community can give R$2 a month to a barber who has a shop on the main street. Using his storefront as their billing address, they can get whatever service they need (internet, cable, etc). The barber organizes all the bills in alphabetical order and they come and pick it up monthly. He makes an additional income and offers a service that aides another resident. That is not survival, that is just smart.

Regardless, life is not all peaches and cream. There are still quite a few sections with open sewage lines that are blocked off by pieces of wood and an issue with the water supply. It is ludicrous that the one and only pumping station was built 25 years ago. Don't even get me started on the "community center" built by the government. That is its own blog post!

What hit me the most about this visit was how wrong I was. People should tour Rocinha just as much as Santa Teresa but with the same intent. I went on an educational tour. Trust me, Zezinho is not the guide one wants for a light and history free visit. He goes into politics and voices the thoughts of someone who has been a member of the community throughout all the changes.

We as Cariocas (or wannabes such as myself) have a duty to know our kin. It is our job as siblings to know who they are, understand them, learn about their joys and struggles, and accept where they are coming from. You do not fear your brother. Rocinha is a part of our Rio de Janeiro family. It is time we look them in the eye and welcome them in. Working together as a family, as opposed to fighting among ourselves, makes us better as a whole.

Yes, it is more complicated than that but what family isn't? 

Getting to Know Rocinha

I'm sure everyone is curious about my thoughts on our visit with Zezinho in Rocinha. This week is going to be very difficult to dedicate the time that this kind of post needs. To hold you over until then, I give you two mini-videos of Zezinho giving you some interesting facts about life in Rio's largest favela.

Don't worry, I will soon be busting out a serious post about yesterday's visit, all I saw, and all Zezinho taught us. Tomorrow I will post some choice photos for Wordless Wednesday.

A New Cultural Experience: Rocinha

I'm going on my first favela tour tomorrow. In all my years in Rio de Janeiro I have never been on one.

Many would initially think it is because my Brazilian husband wouldn't let me. First off, when did I start listening to my husband? Secondly, that couldn't be further from the truth. Mr. Rant has nothing against the favelas, but did have something against tours that showcased the residents of favelas as if they are animals at a zoo, at the same time giving money to the drug lords.

The truth is, I have always been disgusted with the tours that drive foreigners through on jeeps, close enough to take pictures but far enough away to be removed. There is something to be said about seeing a new neighborhood. We all love it. Hell, I can't get enough of walking around Santa Teresa and taking pictures.

What you can't deny is that there is an international stigma against favelas. The truth is that some of the most honest people of Brazil live in them, just living their lives just like the rest of us. I have been waiting for someone to show me that tour of the neighborhood of Rocinha, and I have found him. Someone to give us not a tour but a personalized visit.

Tomorrow my parents and I will be meeting up with Zezinho of Life in Rocinha. He will be showing us his neighborhood. There is no better way to see a new place than with a local who loves his spot on this planet.

I am excited for tomorrow as I will see Rocinha through the eyes of one of their many good people. I will get to know the neighborhood from a local's perspective. It will not be a "favela tour" but a friend showing me around their home. Someone giving me a cultural experience that I have yet to have. I can't wait to tell you about it!

If you would like Zezinho to share his love for Rocinha with you, you can contact him here at his Facebook page: Deejay Zezinho

SOC: Attack of the Tourists

I can appreciate tourists. I really can. Hell, I used to be one. The thing is that they are taking over my city.

Seriously, there are too many tourists in Rio de Janeiro. It is enough to make this local go crazy. Today we went to one of my favorite fairs, the Hippie fair in Ipanema. I could hardly walk down the isles!

While I understand that we are in peak season, I have spent many summers here before. This year is far worse than the rest. My worst fears are being realized, Brazil is the new Europe. Backpackers from around the world are coming to stay in our new hostels and drink beers on our beautiful beaches. They are upping the prices of crap goods as, with the exchange rate, the price isn't bad. FYI, you should have seen the price 3 years ago.

You should all see the amount of half burnt people walking around this city. I don't know what it is about tourists in Rio de Janeiro but they never seem to give the sun the credit it deserves. That and they never remember to flip. The front half of their body looks like a second cousin of a cooked lobster and the back the brother of Casper.

And these freaky breeds of Casper and Lobster are taking over this city. With their Tevas protecting their feet and their money distributed over the 37 pockets in their cargo shorts, tourists can now be found in every single neighborhood at any given time.

If it's this bad now, just imagine during either one of the approaching games. Even as a lover of the normally chaotic streets of Rio de Janeiro, all this is enough to make me want to flee back to my Motherland in 2014 and 2016. It is food for thought. One could make a pretty penny renting our their apartment for ridiculously high tourist rates... Who am I kidding? We all know I'll be staying here and using it as Ranting ammo. 

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post on Fadra's page.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Calling Home Made Easy

My Mother was very supportive about my move to Brazil. Who knew that support came with a cost, her cost. Regardless of my living outside of the country, she just couldn't drop our semi-daily phone conversations. Once I started reproducing the phone conversations became daily.

Now call me an old fashioned girl but I like a nice chat on the phone. Sure there's skype and a bunch of other options, but it just isn't the same. I can't pace in circles while chatting on skype or binge snack. It's kind of weird/gross with people watching you. Don't even get me started on how I can't skype and go to the bathroom. That's just down right frustrating. You turn on the facet and they still know what you are doing...

That is when Ray at American Heart, Brazilian Soul saved the day! Turns out that Ray and my Mom became besties via Facebook chat and he told her about buying a Brazilian phone number. Say what?! Now I don't know how the entire process works. That is where Ray comes in. He is the genius behind this new knowledge! Go check out his post on it: Global: we are huge fans

This is a must have for families of Brazilian expats! It is seriously awesome! My Mom emailed me one day with a Brazilian number and told me to call her. And it was a Rio land line!

So I called the number and got a Brazilian recording in English with a HORRIBLE accent. That is the added bonus as I laugh every single time I listen to it. It says: Press onie for Mooms cell. Press Twoo for Mooms Hoom. etc. By the way, in case you are a little slow this morning like me, I was writing phonetically.

Anyway, I just wanted to personally thank Ray. Now I can easily call Mom without it costing her or me an arm or leg.

Go learn how to get your own: American Heart, Brazilian Soul

Giveaway: Because I Love You All!

Because I love you all, I will be having the best giveaway ever. This giveaway comes with a quick little story of two friends. A very good friend and I have always had a contest as to who can bring back the tackiest gift from a trip abroad. She currently holds the title for bringing me a stuffed toad keychain and a kangaroo testicles bottle opener.

Anyway, I saw this and thought of her. While lovely it just doesn't beat kangaroo testicles, but it is perfect for my readers. Tacky with a touch of ridiculous all while having a logo representing Rio de Janeiro. It was love at first sight.

A Christ the Redeemer nail clipper. I mean, what home doesn't need this?! And when you think it can't get any better...

You open it and see that it is also a bottle opener. I think this is exactly what Jesus was hoping for when he turned water into wine, a nail clipper/bottle opener in honor of a statue in his honor. Doesn't get much better than this folks.

And since this such an awesomely random item, I'm giving it away to you. I feel it's small enough that I won't get totally screwed with shipping so the world is this clipper/opener's oyster. Anyone can apply to have this badboy.

Also, in case you didn't notice, it's also a keychain. That way you can take your Christ the Redeemer nail clipper and bottle opener with you everywhere.

I know. You are welcome.

To enter please leave a comment stating how awesomely tacky this giveaway item is and an email so that I can easily contact you in case of a win. I will pick a winner Saturday the 14th of January.

For additional entries Tweet about this comment by opting for the tweet share down below and leave me a comment telling me you did it (honor system here people. Christ the Redeemer is watching).

Another additional entry for liking my facebook page: Rachel's Rantings in Rio on Facebook Also leave a comment please.

Good Luck! 

Old Rio de Janeiro Video: Wordless Wednesday

I never tire of these kinds of videos

How We Know You Are A Tourist

1. You wear socks with sandals. Seriously, that is just wrong. You wouldn't do it at home, why do it when you are representing your country abroad? Shame on you.

2. Swimsuits should hug the bottom, not tent it. Your ass isn't getting fumigated, you are going swimming. Get something that cups your butt like it should.

3. You walk to a restaurant at 8pm with a can of beer you brought from somewhere else, and it is not Carnaval.

4. You travel in herds. It's like going on safari but the other way around.

5. You are tan when we are white or are white when we are tan. Think, for example, Norwegian in Brazil or vice versa.

6. You pull cash out in public and count it or carry everything in a wallet taped to your chest. This shows either an ignorant level of confidence or an extreme level of paranoia common to 1st world country dwellers.

7. You walk around with a bottle of water. Not only do you have that but you also have a freaking carrier.

8. Gear. You have a hat, sunscreen, glasses, camera, and a backpack full of other potentially useful gear. I'm walking to the store and you are out for survival. If that isn't an obvious difference, I don't know what is.

9. You are reading a book that talks about my city in a foreign language. Enough said.

10. You watch us like we are a live National Geographic Documentary. Foreigners always have a strange twinkle in their eyes as they view a new way of life. I like it. It almost gives me a Peter Pan like buzz.