First, I have to dedicate this article to two very special people, who have connected me with Brazil in more ways than I could have ever imagined: Isabela & Jimmy. I’m writing my first post after two weeks of staying with their family in Belo Horizonte, Minas Gerais, Brazil, and I feel incredibly indebted and grateful to them. Obrigado vocês!
Anyone who knows me knows I have a lot of energy and I don’t settle down… A particularly memorable attempt to describe me was, direct quote, “you are a question mark, Stu.” This came from a friend who’s known me since I began living in British Columbia and has seen a lot of change in those 7 years, including my recent infatuation with Brazil. In university I joined a fraternity, changed my major 3 times, dropped out for a semester mid-way to pursue “peace among worlds” — a disorganized movement imbued with a spiritual vibe wherein I tried to unite different generations, revive the “summer of love,” and give selflessly to those in need — and that was the last time I wrote a blog. After that period, I came to terms with quite a few unaddressed questions about my adoption, which ultimately helped me understand my identity and feel grounded in reality. In this process, I met my birth mother, her family, went to therapy with my family and generally felt a lot happier and fulfilled with who I was. Linked below is a podcast episode which explains those occurrences. If you like it, check out the series! It’s available on player.fm, apple, audible, google, overcast.fm, podyssey.fm and at the link below.
I just listened to it for the first time in a few years and a lot has changed while my energy has remained quite similar. Always grounded, but walking between life-changing events. This seems to be my path of least resistance. Recently, one of my best friends, Vajra, told me: “Stu, I always know that you’re following your heart,” and that’s what I’m writing this series about.
Following my heart to Brazil.
Flashback to March 2020, the pandemic struck while I finished a BSc. I began spending 7 days a week with my ex, who is Brazilian. We collected $2000 CAD per month from the Canadian government, got reduced rent, and winter subsided earlier than usual. People suddenly cared more about love, healthcare and leisure. In this lockdown I was swept away learning Brazilian Portuguese in the picturesque and international city of Vancouver. I couldn’t seem to ask my partner enough questions to satisfy my vontade (volition) to voyage beyond the bubble of quarantine.
How do you say (Como cê fala…) mountain in Portuguese (em Português)? Montanha. Ohh, exactly like Spanish? Yes, but spelled differently. Like piranha? Yes. Oh, and I noticed that you say “de” differently, kind of like “g,” is that how “d” is pronounced in Portuguese? Yes, but only in words with the endings “-de” or “-dinho.” Ok. And what’s with the squiggly “c?” The cedilha? Yeah, the one that’s in maça. It’s because the “c” is pronounced differently. Like “s?” Yes. Ok, I’ll remember that. And… chega! (Enough!)
In retrospect, these were the perfect conditions to learn Portuguese. And nowadays, when people here ask how I learned in the U.S./Canada, I just start answering: Eu tinha uma ex-namorada… and it becomes an instant “ah-ha” moment for them. Every time. It turns out that relationships are the best way to learn a language. I’m too lazy to find the neuroscience research on this, but it’s hardly necessary. Imagine having a private tutor available 7 days a week to teach you a new language. Anyone would become proficient in the span of a year! Although nothing beats immersion, or na marra (by force), there are plenty of ways to gain proficiency from abroad. Just be sure to pronounce “rr” like “h” and “t” like “ch” and you’ll soon be able to read Portuguese aloud intelligibly from Google translate or a phrasebook, then you can visit Brazil on your own path of least resistance.
I arrived in São Paulo on a November morning in 2021, a month after ending the relationship with my Brazilian partner in Canada. So I was solteiro (single), eager to speak more Portuguese, plus I had Jimmy’s bachelor party, wedding and a family-style honeymoon to attend in three different cities across Brazil. More on this soon.
Brazil’s energy — and, for lack of a better word, chaos — struck me on the drive from the airport (GRU) to my hostel in São Paulo. This was the big city.
I was welcomed at the airport by the sister-in-law of my childhood babysitter (babá). I brought a suitcase full of gifts from my babá since she hadn’t been to visit for many years, and I was treated to a ride that accepted no form of payment other than good conversation. It was a full hour drive of weaving through traffic, negotiating a matrix of highways, viaducts and one-way avenues, yet the energy in the car was superb.
I got a head start on practicing Portuguese with two adorable kids, 7 and 9 years old, sitting beside me. When I arrived at the hostel, I believe I impressed the staff — two of which were from Venezuela and Argentina living in Brazil to learn Portuguese. That filled me with great confidence and translated into speaking freely and learning many key words quickly. I proceeded to befriend the staff via conversation.
After finishing the work day on my computer, I walked around the neighborhood until I found a lanchonette (cafe/snack counter/bar) offering R$8.00 ($1.60 USD) pastel (fried dough with a variety of choices for filling) and calda de cana (sugar cane juice). That gave me a good boost of energy, so I then went out with the staff and a few longer-term residents at the hostel to a local karaoke bar. Before we arrived, I got introduced to the cheapest alcohol I have ever seen — Corote cachaça, usually about R$5 ($1) per 500ml, with a variety of flavors to make it taste less like pure ethyl alcohol. It was my first sextou (getting “friday-ed”), and it was a good one.
For the next two days, the good times continued with less drinking and more wholesome activities! I rode the Metrô a lot and can confirm that it is the best transit system in the Americas—comparable to NYC, with newer subway stations, a lot more buses and no major waterways to cross. It’s just not quite as fancy as Vancouver’s electric buses, tap-to-pay, and “Skytrains.”
One of the things I learned only upon arrival in Brazil was that I needed a CPF (Cadastro de Pessoa FĂsica ) — a type of tax identifier the government uses to record your subscriptions, capital goods, large purchases and to determine tax status. A little anecdote: I got a cell phone plan from Oi (the cheapest telecommunications provider, with half-decent signal in cities) on my last day in SĂŁo Paulo. The staff member assisting me had to register the plan (R$50/month for 50 Gb of data) with his CPF, and since I could only pay with cash, he let me pay the R$50 upfront with a promise that I would cancel the plan after 30 days. Only thing is that I had to call a service number to cancel, wait in a queue, speak in Portuguese with an agent on the other side, go back and forth for them to understand my request to cancel the plan and I was unable to negotiate that in the last days of my trip. So, for all I know, the guy from Oi has an unpaid phone subscription linked to him via the CPF he lent me. Bureaucracy at its finest.
That’s about all that needs to be recollected from São Paulo, but next up I voyaged to Rio via an overnight bus, which was surprisingly comfortable. I met a childhood best friend, Max, and his girlfriend at the airport and a R$25 Uber ride brought us to Copacabana, where we’d stay. I rushed to get to the beach knowing there were glassy, 5-foot waves breaking at Arpoador — a famous peninsula and surf spot at the start of Ipanema. After negotiating with the local board rental mafia, I got my hands on a 6'10" fiberglass thruster. It was R$50 ($10) for an hour, a high price for a board rental, but the best deal I was going to get as a gringo (foreigner). Everything in Rio is more expensive for the gringo. Nonetheless, I caught some epic waves, avoided collision with other surfers, started to shiver uncontrollably after an hour in the 20°C water and returned to shore. The consistent, left-hand break offers quite a long, speedy ride and is contested by a minimum of 40 surfers whenever it’s working.
The original chaos that I left behind in Sao Paulo turned into rhythm in Rio…
I stayed in a high-security block of buildings — in the Selina Copacabana — a few seconds from the beach, guided & interpreted for the crew arriving early for Jimmy’s bachelor party, and my paid time off had officially started. So, what did this rhythm look like?
The rhythm is actually quite a differentiating factor between the cities of São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. One is a densely populated mega-city, 800m up, dominated by concrete and people working 12–16 hours a day; the other is a coastal metropolis with two vast national parks dividing the beaches from the most populated and chaotic parts of the city. Rio is known as the most beautiful city in Brazil with the largest Carnaval celebration in the world, whereas São Paulo is the economic powerhouse known for art, industry and high-end restaurants rather than outdoor activities. There’s more to discuss, but I only passed through both cities before the wedding, and have hardly studied their history or the intricacies of the Paulista, Paulistana, Caiçara, Fluminense and Carioca cultures.
This leads to Belo Horizonte: trem bĂŁo, gente boa, comida gostosa and a well-planned city.
A planned city full of awesome things, good people and delicious food. I was only here for 48 hours in 2021 after building up a sleep deficit in Rio, but the wedding was amazing. Parabéns aos noivos!
I really want to talk more about this amazing city — which I honestly consider the most livable and safe (relative to its size) in Brazil. However, that would not be looking back, so instead I’ll share a cool YouTube video of Belo Horizonte that might inspire you to read my future posts.
Ooh, and about the wedding? Well, it’s Isabela & Jimmy’s story, so I will just talk about how it went for me.
I was travelling on a strict budget, and luggage space was limited. My first thought was: I don’t have a black suit & tie to adhere to the dress code, should I rent one there? The theory was perfect, and I would have exactly 4 hours to get to either of the two suit rental stores I found on Google Maps before the wedding. But I only got to the first store with one hour to spare. It turns out that my Portuguese was not sufficient when it came time to understand which bus I should take. Fortunately, the remaining hour was just enough.
I talked to the moça (literally: young lady | usage: female servers and staff) running the store and she quickly helped me find a suitable suit — which was great because the air conditioner had broke and she was about to close early due to the 35°C working temperatures without ventilation. But then, all of the sudden, I couldn’t rent the suit. “Tem CPF?” She had asked. Não, mas tenho meu passaporte. I responded. This had worked getting my cell phone plan in São Paulo, so I figured I could just keep using my passport number in lieu of the CPF and rely on the goodwill of staff in forms where it would be required. I was very wrong with this assumption. At the suit store, a CPF is collected as a safeguard against those who never come back with their rental, since the number follows you around. The moça was exasperated that I hadn’t thought to ask a friend for theirs, clearly overworked and ready to call it a day. So, I promised to return earlier the following day (the day of the wedding), and headed down the road to the next suit rental store.
The next one was well hidden, but I managed to decipher that I had to go into a nondescript building, pass rows of wedding dresses and fabrics, present myself at a back office where two moças were busy helping a guy and his son with suit fitting. I waited in the doorway worried about the closing time coming up in 15 minutes, but then the guy turned around to reveal a Boston Celtics jersey! I asked if he liked the Celtics and he said yes, he had a cousin and some friends living there and he would be visiting in just a couple months. I mentioned that I’m from Boston and came to Belo Horizonte to attend my childhood best friend’s wedding. Wait a second. O casamento de Isabela?! He interjected. This was how I met Edinho, Isabela’s cousin and an all-around incredible guy.
The two moças were intrigued by this point, as they had never had a foreigner come to rent a suit from them, and Edinho was among their most loyal customers. So, they rushed to assist me with a plethora of recommendations for what suit I should choose, complimenting me on my Portuguese and even offering to introduce me to their daughters and single lady friends in between my selections. Edinho was just leaving when it came time to finalize my rental, but he called out offering: “E se vocês precisam um CPF pra ele, coloque o meu!” (If you need a CPF, use mine!). That was the start of a friendship.
What’s more? The wedding was epic, like watching a fairytale unfold and then partying with hundreds of gente boa until 5am — while watching Marcelinho Rodrigues, Isabela’s incredibly talented brother, do his thing.
At 9pm the same day it just so happened that the newlyweds and their families (and I) would be going to Fortaleza, a 3 hour flight to the northern coastline of Brazil. I did have to return my suit though… and it turned out that Edinho could take care of that on Monday. Literally the nicest guy!
To the honeymoon… I go?
To finish off this chapter introducing my connection with Brazil, I see it only fitting to discuss how incredible it was that I could join Isabela & Jimmy on their lua de mel (honeymoon), bond with members of both families as they became acquainted and explore yet more of Brazil with such great company.
First, Fortaleza. It is the largest city in Brazil’s Nordeste (Northeast), a region characterized by beautiful beaches, sand dunes, summer temperatures all-year long, deep cultural traditions and high rates of poverty.
With 11 family members and 1 Stuart, all booked on the same travel package, we were destined to share the experience. Our group landed after midnight into the 35°C (95°F) evening heat, and upon finding the transfer to our hotel in Meireles — a bairro (neighborhood) with the most popular beaches — it was well past 1am. A bit of a saga unfolded after 2am since the hotel had no towels, which most of us learned after our showers, everyone was hungry but there was no food available until Monday morning. Nonetheless, I am pleased to say that this hotel, which still boasts a 4.3 rating with 5,491 reviews on Google, is now permanently closed.
Things started turning around for the group each day thereafter, aided by the 40°C (104°F), perfectly sunny days, 30°C (86°F) water temperatures, R$2 água de coco and ridiculously cold beers. With the first indication of decent swell, I led three of Jimmy’s brothers to a unique surf spot 3km down the road (only a R$10 Uber ride). It is located at the edge of the city’s port and walled-in by a peaceful favela. I had heard about Praia do Futuro being one of the best surf beaches in the area, but I could only find surfboard rental shops online at the neighboring Titanzinho surf spot, so we sent it there. It was a good choice, the surf shop staff affirmed, since muggings and localism are common at Praia do Futuro whereas Titanzinho’s community welcomes tourists and exiles anyone who tries to steal from them.
I was surprised by how good the surf was and we returned again the next day, inviting the whole group to come check out Titanzinho. Marcelinho tried surfing, the boys all hydrated with ice-cold beers, and a soccer ball was brought out for altinha — a juggling game where the challenge is to complete as many passes without the ball touching the ground. Idyllic… until Isabela’s family pointed out a retched smell and discoloration of the otherwise sandy-turquoise water. It just so happened that the same day everyone came to Titanzinho, the favela’s sewage pipes were being emptied. Right into the surf. So, although Titanzinho had finer sand than the Meireles beaches, waves perfect for surfing, cheaper lanchonettes and the best vibes in Fortaleza, the sewage situation left something to be desired. If you still want to see what this little community is like, look no further than Titan surf shop, which is perched directly over the main surf break and is owned by the friendliest local of all.
What next? Well, the days were non-stop throughout my entire first viagem to Brazil, but the biggest send of all was the 20 hour voyage from Fortaleza to Jericoacoara and back (a 5 hour bus ride each way). Jeri, as it is known, was truly stunning and rivals every other place in the world I had travelled in sheer beauty. Put simply, movies wish they could be shot here.
And that’s all for now! Until the next chapter, friends. Thanks for reading!
