What License Plate?!

Anyone who follows my blog on Facebook knows that I bought a dryer. I am over the moon. It is like losing my virginity with an orgasm, that is how long I have been waiting for this moment.

Of course, with that moment came the task of getting rid of my still good washing machine. It's 6 years old and washes, coincidentally, 6 kilos at a time. The first person I thought of giving it to is my twice a week maid. After years of conflict with her asshole (my word for him) father of her children, she is without a washing machine. He took it out of their place after she left him, like a fine young gentleman.

So I called Socorro (Portuguese for help but that is her name: Maria de Soccorro) after I purchased the new one. I told her that my washer is hers and, if possible, I would love it if she could bring my old one home the next day. She had it all arranged when she arrived this morning at my home.

Come 3pm, the pick up guy arrived with his truck. I had instructed the administration of my building that he would be coming and gave permission for his truck to enter the building to carry out our washing machine. The catch, he refused to identify himself to the doorman.

What?! Refuse to identify yourself and your car? Yes, we all know that many "movers" are not necessarily registered with the city. Socorro tried to explain this to him, that the building only required him to check in for the security of the people who live there. Regardless, he refused. I told her that I would personally go down and drive in with him. He drove away before I could get there.

That makes me think, what is this man avoiding? Socorro laughed. She said he was old, confused, and a little too cautious. I personally wonder why this man is avoiding identification.

To clear things up, I'm not really "worried." I don't think he's going to show up at my place with a gun and take my tv and fridge. He's like 65 yrs old and a friend of my maid. But the fact that he refuses to let my building write down his license plate number is something to make an American girl laugh.

The thing is that Brazil is changing because of the games coming here. Those who work with jeitinho, ie. not registered moving companies, may be concerned that they will be punished. Of course it's not like he's delivering to the US Consulate. Even then, I doubt they would say anything. Every country has their own way of running, and under the table help is nothing new to Brazil.

But I wonder if me being American and living in a heightened security building was enough to make this man not want the extra cash. Either way, Socorro and I had a laugh at the confusion .

Note to self, if I should ever have CIA access to foreign info, I would love to look up some of these peeps... just to see why the license plate info is so damn important.

Has this ever happened to you? 

Living in Rio de Janeiro Forever?

I am usually asked about if we are staying or going. Are we going to be in Rio de Janeiro forever? Forever is a long time so it is a difficult one to answer.

Logistically, we will be here forever. Mr. Rant's job is here. We own a home. Our children have been born and raised here so far. And as much as I love Target, the idea of picking up the entire family to indulge my consumerist tendencies seems slightly selfish (even if I'll be mainly buying for them).

Then there's the other side of the story. Rio de Janeiro is an amazing place to raise small children! First off, they are widely accepted anywhere. Seriously, Cariocas love small children more than small dogs in Louis Vuitton bags. It's a special place like that.

Don't even get me into how life in Brazil is heaven for children. Even ignoring the natural beauties such as the beach and waterfalls, you also have the extravagant birthday parties and commonly late bedtimes. Kids are the dictators and people pretty much like it like that.

The only thing that worries me about living here is the general lack of stability, although the economy has been going strong for 10 years now. Brazilians my age have memories of inflation dramas, change of currency, minor epidemics, and general nervousness of parents surrounding government stability. As an American born in the fabulous year of 1980, I'm used to a government who averages a life of butterflies and rainbows. Of course that is not counting natural disasters, wars, and the current state of the economy.

None the less, I have realized in my young age that stability is in the mind of the beholder. Living within one's means makes all the difference in a world of flux. Just to clarify, I'm not saying that I do that. Of course I so immaturely blame Continental and their extremely high priced tickets from Rio de Janeiro to the US. That and my 8 suitcases full of crap that I just HAVE to bring back. Consumerism is a drug more addictive than crack and I am not even close to accepting that I have a problem, so don't even go there.

But back to the main topic, we live here. Taking away the little issues, like being thousands of miles from friends and family, we have a good life. We are happy. My children are well adjusted, bilingual, and love every aspect of the culture of their Motherland.

And when I live in a place that makes the 3 most important men in my life happier than anywhere else, how can I not want to live here forever?