Monday was the first day of classes at PUC. The first week of the new semester is called the "Semana dos Calouros," or Freshman Week. The freshmen don't have classes yet and spend the week doing cultural activities and getting to know the school. The other three years of students skip class all week and haze the freshman. The professors shrug and cancel class. A lot of the CIEE students I've talked to haven't had a single class yet.
I had a slight mishap on Monday trying to find my 4:15 class, Art and Technology. After I'd angrily stormed home, one of the CIEE reps called and told me she'd found my class. I don't know what time it was at or in what room (or planet). I'll try again next week.
I had one of my two literature courses at 10:15 yesterday, Brazilian Literature. The focus of the class is later Brazilian modernist poetry, ie concretism and realism. It focuses on "the generation of '45." I showed up and so did the rest of the class and the professor. We went over the syllabus for a bit and then walked over to the theatre building to attend a guest lecture by a Peruvian professor. He wrote a paper on Octavio Paz and Orientalism in Latin American poetry. It was really interesting. I knew there was a strong link in the visual arts between Latin America and Asia, but I hadn't heard much about it outside the colonial era and nothing at all in literature. Next week I'm going to ask my professor for the visitor's name so I can look him up.
Today I had the Language of Fotography at 1:30. Once I found the room I ran into three other kids and one older woman. Two of the kids were just accompanying the other, and the older woman was the professor. She gave me a quick tour of the photography labs and described the basics of the course. Then she told me she didn't expect anyone to show up today and that I could leave, which was good because I had to anyway. CIEE had us scheduled to register with the Federal Police at 2.
Registration took about 3.5 hours, most of which was spent waiting in a grid of chairs that reminded me of O'Hare's waiting areas. Finally, after checking over all my passport information and visa application, they took fingerprints of every finger of each hand (twice!) and let us go. I think the Brazilian government knows more about me than the US does.
Tomorrow I've got my second literature course, Portuguese Literature, from 7 to 9 at night. This one is also about Brazilian modernist writing, but focuses more broadly on different types of literature and has a wider time frame. I signed up for both to see which one I'd like better and drop the other one. Before class I think Brandon and I are going to go to a wacky mall he visited earlier. The nicer stores there require that you purchase 6 or 12 items; you can't just get one thing. I'm curious and confused. We'll see how that goes.
Friday is the Autobiographical Subject at 4:15, which is about performance art. We study a bunch of other people and Joseph Beuys. I interpret that to mean that we can make random stuff up about Tartars.
This weekend I didn't do much. I loafed around a lot. On Friday I loafed around at Brandon's place with him and Graham. He lives on the 16th floor and has an incredible view.
Sao Paulo at night:
I loafed around most of the day Saturday and finally dragged myself out of bed to go explore Rua 25 de Marco again, but it was mostly closing by the time I got there. I decided to use the Se metro station because although it's a really busy transfer point, I'd never been above ground to see the cathedral I'd heard was there. There was most definitely a cathedral. I believe it's named after a saint, but I don't know; Everyone just calls it Catedral Se. There's a big plaza right in front of it. From below, in the metro station:
Right next to the metro exit:
The cathedral was on my right as I exited the metro. Here's the view to my left:
And right in front of that, behind me to my left:
Oh, Brazil.
Closeup of the big rose window:
A small distance away is the first building in Sao Paulo and the monument with the bird sitting on it that I'd taken a picture of earlier. Here are two weirdly crooked pictures of the full monument with the first building in the BG; it's the white one with the blue trim:
All right, here's the long-promised Parati update.
I didn't like Parati much. It reminded me kind of powerfully of a little classier, little more “historic" Wisconsin Dells. There were no wax museums, but what I experienced there was definitely a version of Brazilian culture made for foreign tourists. However, some of that culture was a lot of fun, so I guess in the end I'm not complaining. Too much.
We met at 6:45am on Friday and finally left at around 8. After about four hours on the bus, we stopped at a beach called Ubatuba. It was absolutely gorgeous. We spent about 3 hours throwing ourselves into waves, climbing around on the rocks and little islands, and staring at the crabs, little fish, and giant creepy bugs floating around in the tide pools. I burned my legs and my back a little and I bought a really cute sun dress. Then we got back on the bus for about two more hours and arrived in Parati.
Our hotel was right on the main square of the town.
Directly facing it across the square was a church, next to which was the sell-jewelry-to-tourists fair. Next to that was this:
The bane of my life. Every night there were concerts that started at about 10pm and went to around 2am. Then everyone who went to the concert would come in the hotel and swim in the pool until 3 or 4am. We always had “cultural activities" scheduled for 8 or 9. I actually went to the front desk and got cotton for my ears at one point, but it didn't do much good. If you know me at all, you know that sleep is one of my top four favorite things in life. This was the second most irritating part of the trip.
Here's a couple shots of the town, taken my last day. The whole place looked exactly like this. The colonial architecture and paint jobs are cute and historical for a while, but they make it really, really easy to get completely lost.
We were allowed to put our stuff in our rooms and then immediately marched on an educational tour of the town. Parati began as a port that the Portuguese used to ship gold from Minas Gerais to Europe. It was kept secret and used instead of places like Rio in order to keep the gold away from pirates. It and wasn't actually ever supposed to be a town, but it was a pretty busy secret port and people eventually just started moving in. The church across the park from us was the first one built and was for white men only. There are three other churches in the town, one for slaves, one for white women of privilege, and one for either general attendance or something I don't remember. That one is close to the water and has an uninterrupted view of the bay. It's also right next to a street called Rua de Fogo, or Fire Street, the only street in town with its name painted in red. That's right. It's the prostitute street. “Fogo" refers to the fact that prostitutes smoked, which respectable women weren't supposed to do. It's right near the port to provide easy access for sailors, and right next to the church to provide easy access for priests. I love Brazil. I didn't get any of the churches (I really wonder what my logic is for taking pictures), but here's a shot of the bay:
The churches weren't much to look at, anyway. Most of the man made structures in Parati are totally overshadowed by the landscape.
After all that learning we were finally allowed to lounge around in our hotel rooms and run out to find dinner. The hotel was actually an inn, and it was beautiful. My room:
Immediately outside my room:
The pool:
Opposite side of the courtyard from my room:
An example of the decor:
The inn had two big sitting rooms with antique furniture. The breakfast room was covered in antique clocks. I kept meaning to snap pictures, but I never did Our inn was seriously the coolest place I've ever stayed, and easily the classiest place in Parati. I was amazed. It was R$190 a night, so if any of you come to visit and have a US budget for hotels, that's where we're going. In the tourist off-season. When the band isn't constantly playing.
The next day we got up and boarded a pretty decently sized boat at 10am. I did not get a picture of the boat because Brandon, Graham and I were late to the boat and arrived on the dock just as it was about 10 feet away. They circled around to pick us up, and taking pictures was the last thing on my mind. We are pretty awesome. We spent the day sailing for around 20 to 30 minutes, then stopping at various beaches and islands to swim for an hour or so. We did this until 5pm. It was ungodly beautiful. Here's some shots of islands that we sailed past:
The first place we stopped was off a rocky island where there were tons of fish. I took a pictures before jumping in:
Here's a little movie of the scenery after our third stop, a nice sandy beach where Andrew and I built a sand castle and then destroyed it like Godzilla.
And here's me on the boat, for Dad.
The whole time I was giggling and staring, not entirely able to understand where I was or what I was doing there. It felt like I was walking around inside a tourist brochure or a postcard. It was hard to get myself to stop staring and take pictures. It was great.
Unfortunately, I didn't bring sunblock with me, nor did I remember to ask someone to borrow theirs so I could reapply. I ended the day running like hell off the boat to find some shade, aloe, and something to wear that would chafe my shoulders and back. I got the worst sunburn I've ever had in my life. Parts of my shoulders were actually purple, and my entire back was cherry red. Real, Door Country cherry red. Sunday was supposed to be a rain forest hike, but when I woke up after 4 hours of sleep, unable to move or wear clothing on my upper body, I decided I'd have to sit it out. One of the CIEE program directors sent someone out to buy me some calamine lotion, which is what they use most often in Brazil I guess. That, with the aloe and a lot of Excedrine, worked pretty well, and by Monday afternoon I was able to wear a tank top again. I did get a new (strapless, obviously) dress out of it, though. I needed something to wear. I also got a bunch of neat jewelry.
Other attractions I should have taken pictures of: a giant crazy parade of people wearing huge demon-like costumes, and the Che Bar. I went to the Che Bar with a group of 6 Americans who kept speaking loudly in English and babbling about how much they dislike Che. Our food took about 1.5hrs to arrive. I was the only one unsurprised.
Monday afternoon we all got back on the bus and started what should have been a 6 hour ride back. Instead it took something like 8 hours. We stopped for a bit because one of the guys on the trip started passing out and had to go to the hospital. He's back with us now and is just fine, if a little confused about what happened. Then once we got that settled, our bus broke down in the middle climbing up a scenic winding mountain road. We heard loud popping noises and hissing, and assumed our bus had blown two tires. Instead it was just an engine thing that was fixed fairly quickly because I guess the driver keeps spare parts under his seat or something. Anyway we got home safely and more or less on time for Brazil. My burn is totally under control now. I'm just about done peeling. I looked like a pretty awesome leper for half the week, but honestly I don't care what the burn looks like as long as it doesn't hurt anymore.
On Wednesday I tried to find Ibirapuera park. Ibirapuera is a giant park with a huge lake right in the middle of Sao Paulo. There are a couple museums inside it, all in buildings designed by one of Brazil's favorite sons, Oscar Niemeyer. It took me about an hour and a half to figure out the right combination of metro and bus to get there, by which time the Sao Paulo MAM, which is what I was trying to see, was closing. They didn't have anything by the artist I was looking for, anyway. They did offer to let me use their research library if I came back next week. I am all over that. The trip back only took about 40 minutes. I think I've got the hang of it now. Here's a shot of the lake:
Hey, what's that white thing?
Yeah, it's real. In the middle of the third largest city in the world. What.
Here's the Afro-Brasilian culture museum through the trees of the park:
Here's a movie of the area:
Here's two shots of the weird white walkway you can kind of see in the movie. It connects the Afro-Brasilian museum with the SP MAM and two other buildings I'm not sure about, I think.
The whole area under the white roof is very cool and makes a perfect roller rink. It opens up and gets very wide near the side opposite from where I was. There were a bunch of families teaching little kids how to skate and stuff. It was pretty neat.
Just looking around the park you can kind of see where Oscar got his inspiration. All the stilts and long vertical elements holding up big horizontal elements kind of look like the trees all over the place.
And here's a statue of Jesus, across from the bus stop. I think it's Jesus, anyway. I could be wrong.
Yesterday we had our finals for our ILCP culture and language classes. I think I did all right with both. I wrote about Maria Martins again because she's super neato. I am having a huge problem trying to find anyone who's ever heard of her here. Professor Douglas was nice enough to send me a bunch of big pictures of her work, so I'm going to post two of my favorites here. I am so tired of no one knowing her work. It is awesome. Cobra Grande, 1942:
Sem Eco, 1943:
We also had a going away party for the Bahia kids, most of whom are leaving today. We went to this huge 42 story building called the Edificio Italiano (Italian Building) and had little sandwiches and bread and coffee. Then Graham, Brandon and I went to a barzinho one last time to say goodbye to Graham. He's going back to the US tonight. We had caipivodkas, which are like caipirinhas but made with vodka instead of cachaça. I think they taste a lot better with vodka, but that is because I am a weakling and drinking an entire glass of cachaça has so far been impossible and would probably kill me. The damn things are just pure alcohol with a little lime juice and a ton of sugar. Anyway, Mom, if you want to make them, just use the caipirinha recipe you found and sub in vodka.
Classes supposedly start on Monday. Today I plan to finish this journal entry, go bead shopping on Rua 25 de Março, and get sushi at the Mercado Municipal again. I really like Brazil when I'm not covered in sunburn.
I'm an American graduate student in art history, specializing in Latin American modern and contemporary art, particularly from Brazil. I'm also interested in modern and contemporary art from lusophone Africa.
Eu falo portugues, claro, mas nao muito bem. Preciso ler mais. :)