One Tall Glass of Grace, Please

Walking the streets of Viçosa, I trip at least three times a day. It's actually become a game with my friend. It is a subtle exchange: "So, what number was that?" ..."Oh, just the first one of the day!" or "Yikes, you don't want to know," or even, "Hey, that one doesn't count." Mostly it's because I'm so intently listening to my friends while walking, language barriers abound. I just can't seem to walk and look sideways at them. Hey, a girl's gotta prioritize when she can't do two things at once! So much for feminine grace.

Besides the more visible feminine grace we may have seen on the city streets or in the movies, I discovered different kind of grace. One that is patient and accepting, that moves much slower than the pace I would like. If only it was as simple as going up to a bar and ordering a tall glass of grace. No, but this grace takes more work and care. A grace that weathers all storms. A grace that continues to grow through hardships and thrives with a little bit of sunshine. If metamorphosed, this grace would be a tree. Have you ever stopped to consider how graceful they are? Joyce Kilmer has, as she admiringly describes God's graceful creation in the poem to the right.

The same friend who teases me for tripping also told me a beautiful tree metaphor when I was expressing my worries for the future. Just as a tree has one strong trunk, or one main direction, we also grow as such with one main focus. With that strong trunk, that one focus- whether is it agronomy, languages, or medicine- we can branch off to other things in which we may be interested. Cooking? Dance? Rock climbing? These are other branches we can grow and nurture once we have that strong trunk. I liked this metaphor because it assured me that I don't need to feel limited to one thing in life, as I am truly a woman of endless possibilities.

Tree in the "Central Park" of São Paulo. Now those are some branches!

I think this metaphor ties into how someone once anecdotally described grace to me as the following: One branch broke and I miraculously made it to the next. In our lives, many branches break. Many opportunities fall out, and yet at the moment when we think we will fall, we find another branch to cling to. Going from one thing to the next, the only way this could happen is with the grace of God.

Why all this talk about grace? In my seven months here in Brazil, I am gaining a type of grace in the process. I have learned to accept the pace of life that is not aligned with my normal speed of efficiency and productivity. I came in with lots of ideas and motivation. I've slowed down a lot since, as I haven't seen things materialize. Accepting that my program is new for the university, I've been able to adjust my priorities and pace into something more patient and experimental. I've learned to accept that things don't happen as quickly as I may hope. I've become willing to accept that things may not even happen at all.

Tree pose on top of Pico do Bonê, MG

I could force things to happen, but I don't think the experience would be as fruitful.
I have found there is no point in forcing things here in Brazil. Instead, we go with the pace and flow of the world, seeing what plays out or what branch to jump to. This is strictly speculation, but perhaps they are more productive in the end. Knowing well who they are working with, perhaps they have more concrete results and more sane people. This is where my lesson in grace comes in. Accepting as a gift whatever comes or does not come, I can more gracefully attend to what actions I am called to do and to what is right in front of me. There is no use being stuck thinking the grass is greener on the other side.

They say good things happen to those who wait, right? As it turns out, seven months in and I am finally seeing a few projects materialize. With a couple conferences on the horizon, a storytelling workshop at an after school program, and a Q&A video project featuring both Brazilians and Americans, I am in full swing until November! I'll take that tall glass of grace now, please... I know, I know- it's not that easy.

What Do You Get When Opposites Attract? Of course, PB&J

Romeo e Julieta: A Deadly Combo

But how about in Brazil? Something the Brazilians call Romeo e Julieta, which is the perfect combination of cheese and guava paste.

One great thing about having my siblings visit was hearing their perspective just after a couple weeks. They confirmed a few observations I had myself in the past months, relieving the doubt that I could be crazy. For example, my sister loved Viçosa and found it to be a great tight knit community. Not every university student would say the same, as I usually hear groans of not having anything to do in Viçosa. My brothers got sick of the salgados, the salty snacks, at every bus stop. We siblings indisputably come from the same tree.

My brothers getting their brew on.

Kenny, my older brother, expressed something that I had been trying to process for the past months. Brazilians receive so much information about our American culture, so much so that it is a distorted view. While visiting the Bohemia brewery in Petropolis, Kenny perceived a detail of the story of hops that he said had been misinterpreted by the tour guide. I am not going to remember exactly what it was, as I am not the bartender in the family. The point is that varying views and interpretations are bound to happen, as information crosses overseas, even into the brewery world.

I have seen this in the classroom environment too, as Brazilians know so many TV series that I have never seen, and sometimes never heard of. Some students have asked, "are parties in the U.S. really like those in American Pie"? Oh goodness...Then again, some American college parties may be like that? A little boy asked me the other day, "Is it true that you can get arrested if your boxers are showing?" Undoubtably he heard the news from some city that tried to enforce that rule. I doubt myself here thinking, "Maybe I am the one out of the loop here, maybe he is right?" That is the feeling I get sometimes- I am the American with less information about my country than a ten-years-old Brazilian. These examples clearly show the difference between what the news and media delivers to the Brazilian people and the realities of life in the United States.

As much as the Brazilians know about the U.S., Americans have a limited view of what is happening in Brazil. Before coming to Brazil, I got questions and comments from friends and family like "Do you know how to samba?" and "Ohhh Carnaval!" My personal favorite dialogue was, "Do you speak Spanish?"..."Yes but that won't help in Brazil." Beautiful people. Soccer. The Amazon. Favelas. These are the things we know about Brazil. Being from the States, we don't automatically hear Sertanejo music or Brazilian funk on the radio stations. Those interested in hearing have to seek out Zezé Di Camargo e Luciano or Valesca Popozuda. We don't hear about Brazilian politics because our news channels are full of debates between Republicans and Democrats. We get snidbits of their culture. American culture infuses Brazil, from music to movies to university lifestyle, to science articles, to names of stores, to hamburgers, to English class starting in grade school.

Maureen and Sabrina, two kindred souls.

That being said, my sister Maureen noted that it is an easy culture to adapt to for Americans. There are a lot of parallels between our cultures and the Brazilian people are so warm and welcoming, there's no wonder why I've been able to adapt quite fluidly. As for being an American here, there's not much else to do but hear the Brazilians' questions and try to give a glimpse of the reality of American life- beyond Hollywood glamour, beyond Washington drama, and beyond New York finances. My mission (oh, boy, here comes my power trip) is to clear up the misconceptions Brazilians have of Americans, one conversation at a time. I also will have the same mission in November- to bring back some Brazilian culture and expand the view my community at home has of Brazil. Mainly, that involves making tapioca and playing some Skank for everyone.

To start, listen here:

Perks & Quirks of Being Gringos

The title of this post is meant to cue your memory of a semi-recent popular book-then-made-into-movie called The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I liked the Urban Dictionary's definition of a wallflower: "a type of loner. seemingly shy folks who no one really knows. often some of the most interesting people if one actually talks to them. cute." The image that comes to my mind is a cabbage patch kid's cute little head growing out of a wall and a calm grin on his face surrounded by green shrubbery, barely visible. 

The four gringos, on top of Rio de Janeiro

That is not what my brothers, sister and I were when they came to visit last month. We were quite the opposite of wallflowers, as much as we tried to not be obnoxious in public. One ginger in Brazil is rare enough. Imagine four gingers waltzing around Rio de Janeiro. During the World Cup, people just assumed we were German. Fortunately, I was clearly sporting a Brazilian jersey on the day of the Unspeakable Match. Attitudes changed quickly as Argentina and Germany faced each other in the final... Brazilians don't really like their Argentinian neighbors.

Overall, the perks of us siblings being exotic here in Brazil made for some laughs, good conversations, and pleasant treatment from the Brazilians who are ever so eager to make you feel at home in their country.

Back in Viçosa, where I have come to call home here in Brazil, I have found some more perks. Public speaking is easier because I am either speaking in my native tongue to a group of non-natives, or I am speaking in Portuguese and expectations are way lower for me. When I speak well, I am rewarded by a compliment, or a subtle look of surprise. Another perk- ignorance is bliss as they say. At the beginning of my time here, I didn't know what was going on so looking back I realize I got away with some cultural faux pas such as: being barefoot around the house; not offering my food to everyone in sight as means of being polite; taking people's food when they politely yet half-heartedly offer it. The greatest perk is the direct cultural exchange I have with every conversation, as every interaction presents a new opportunity for me to learn, and to share something about my culture. Brazilians love to talk and they make great teachers, too.

Being American in Viçosa, Brazil for the Fourth.

Plenty of quirks exist as well: Walking in the streets and speaking English gets strange looks, but even more uncomfortable is when I am speaking Portuguese and I get a strange look. Being asked where I am from after just saying hello. Being asked where I am from even before saying hello. Using the wrong word, in some cases a phallic slang word, and getting a good laugh out of a Brazilian friend. People asking me for directions: as I begin to speak, they get a slightly fading-away look as they become less confident if they should believe this girl or not. Those times when I don't feel like asking someone to repeat when I didn't understand, only to find they are waiting for an answer from me. Just to name a few...

Sure there are perks and quirks of being a gringa but at times I wish to be a wallflower, as sometimes the attention that comes with being exotic is suffocating. Can I just get my beer in peace? I'll have to wait to get back to the Palmer house for that. For now I'll keep afloat by embracing the perks because after this experience in Brazil and all I'm learning about myself, life as I know it will never be the same. Tchau!