Tidbits

Lost in translation: Most apartment complexes here have a doorman, and one of ours recently greeted me, "Oi, Nega." I had to look over my shoulder, but sure enough, he was talking to me. Further confusing me, he's black and I'm not. I checked with our Brazilian friends Marcel and Marina who explained to me "nega" is a term of endearment, in the same category as "dear" or "sweetie" and has nothing to do with race. Ok, but I don't think I'll every say to Eri, "How's my little nega doing?" Just doesn't seem right.

The accent, again: Leo Steeves is a big kid. I often have the same conversation when I'm out and about with him:

Brazilian: "How old is your baby?" 

me: "He's fill-in-the-blank months." 

Brazilian: "Wow, he looks double-the-number-I-said months." 

me: "Yeah, thanks." 

This was particularly painful during his third month of life. When you speak portuguese with an accent, "tres" rhymes with "seis," forcing me to hold up three fingers and clarify,"No, no he's not six months, just three," which was once followed up with, "Are you sure?" Um yep, pretty sure. 

Some firsts: Geoff and I started back at the university this month for the fall semester, which is also our last semester of classes! (Next semester we work solely on our dissertations.) Eri, 4, also started the new school year in the "Jardim Um" class and likes to be dropped off at the door to walk in by herself. And Leo, now 7 months, has started quite successfully on solid foods.

Crying for another avocado. (Love him!)

Something funny or irritating (or both) usually happens at the grocery store.
A guy checking out next to me was buying beer, a bucket and a mop. Gross. 

Wheeee!!!!

Eri's portuguese is excellent, as
evidenced by her 'don't cut the cuticles, please' request.

Leo at 4 months (above) and Eri at 4 months (below).
I'm always told how much they look like Geoff. I don't see it.

I love this picture. Is it just me, or is it really obvious
Geoff is not Latino even a little bit?

I love this picture even more. This is Leo's passport photo, in which he
could be a baby or an 80-year-old man.

Marcel and Marina

Without a doubt, the best aspect of Brazil is Marcel and Marina.

Technically, Marcel was my friend first. But, his brother from another mother, Geoff, stole him away. Lucky for me, his wife Marina is equally wonderful.

Here's how the story goes: My International Relations master's program is made up of 15 students; we all start and end the two-year program together, taking the same courses as a group. Last year, each professor asked us to give a brief introduction on the first day. One particular professor spoke incredibly fast with a thick accent. I had only been here six months and I had no idea what she wanted us to say about ourselves. A quick important detail: In Latin America, everyone has several last names, for example, Maria Eduarda Vieira de Silva Santos Alves. So, lists are alphabetized by first name. And, well, B is for Brye. I was first up. I asked her to repeat her questions. The second time was no better. So, I guessed. Well, I guessed wrong. She asked some follow-up questions. And I asked her to repeat them. Hmm, still not getting it. Everyone was staring and I was starting to sweat. Then, from across the room, a voice: Marcel. He told the teacher that I didn't understand because she was talking way too fast. He then gave my introduction for me, having heard the details in the prior classes. Not long after, Marcel asked if we wanted to get together with him and his wife. After several get togethers, I was sure they were going to give us religious pamphlets, but as it turns out, they actually wanted to be friends.

Marcel and Marina patiently answer our portuguese grammar questions and eat dinner at the very un-Brazilian hour of 7 p.m. with us all the time. They came to our Thanksgiving celebration and were complimentary of my Stove Top Stuffing. They have met all our friends and family who've visited us here and took us to their family's Christmas gathering. They love brownies, the Fresh Prince of Bel Air and our children. They're our lifelong friends:

Our favorite place to eat: wherever Marina is cooking.
The food and the company are always excellent.

Dois brasileiros: Marcel e Leo.

Eri and her "tia."

Eri and her "tio."

Marina and Marcel, practicing their english with
Geoff's Uncle John (wearing the blue shirt, not the dude in the tank top.)

My parents, Richard and Deb, with their other set off children: Marcel and Marina.

At Marcel and Marina's pool.

Playing!

Eri helping Marcel blow out his birthday candles.

Marina's Christmas present to Eri.

Selfy: Marcel, Marina and Eri at her 4th birthday party.

Eri's 4th Birthday

We did it. We went Brazilian for Eri's 4th birthday party. 

Birthday parties here are a big deal: food and cake, of course, but also include rented toys, activities or party people for the kids to play with, and professional party planners who decorate elaborately and excessively in the chosen theme. 

Eri's party was at our apartment building's clubhouse. The theme was cowgirl; we had pizza made on-site for lunch and the kids played on an inflatable Mickey Mouse bounce house, a trampoline and at an art table. Was it over the top? For sure. But, you only turn 4 in Brazil once, right?

It took the party decorators 2 1/2 hours (that's not a typo)
to set up. Prior to the big day, they sent me a budget
and still agreed to come back after I cut
90 percent (that's not a typo) from it.

The cupcakes tasted as good as they looked. 

Poor Leo, 4 months old, could only look. Longingly.

A bounce house is appropriately called "pula pula" in
Portuguese, which translates to "jump jump."

Party favors. The only way to get kids to
go home willingly, but that's probably universal.

Art!

The gang. 

Jumping, 

Jumping,

and more jumping was never tiresome (figuratively) for the guests.

Every birthday party in Brazil (except Eri's when she turned 3;
 I didn't know then what I know now) has brigadieros at the cake table.
They are are little chocolate candies and
as much of a birthday staple here as the cake.

"Parabens para voce" (Happy Birthday to you.)

Making a wish!

The big 0-4. She took it in stride.

Howdy.

Awe, mom.

Rio de Janeiro: 2 of 2

Part of what made our Rio de Janeiro trip so great was the wonderful hospitality of our new friends Mark and Elia Hickie. Both are Olmsted scholars and also Air Force pilots. We hadn't met them prior to our Rio visit (so we didn't know we would like them so much), but the idea is that scholars travel regionally and meet up with each other. They graciously hosted us in their apartment in Leblon, and will be our first Olmsted visitors in Florianopolis next month.

We also met another Olmstead family, Kyle and Katie May and their 4(!) daughters, who were visiting from Chile.

Could she be any cuter?
 (That's not rhetorical. The answer is no.)
Elizabeth Hickie drinking
coconut water like a Brazilian.

Our hosts, Elia and Mark.

Geoff turned 35 and said celebrating in
Rio was one of his best birthdays ever.

Birthday dinner. The best sushi we've had in Brazil, delivered!

Coincidentally, one of our professors from the
Defense Language Institute in
California, Isa, and her husband, Geraldo,
were in town visiting their family.

Eri and Elizabeth went to a children's Christmas party.
Somehow this Santa knew Eri loved Polly Pocket.

Elizabeth immediately spotted the
terrible faux beard and was not happy with this impostor.

Leo was the only boy amongst six girls ...

... not that he minded. 

Yep, we thought so.
Leo, 4 1/2 months, weighs more than Elizabeth, 11 months.

Eri was impressed with Mark's portuguese,
which is almost as good as hers.

Buddies.

Leblon beach, just a few steps from the apartment.

Nice.

Elizabeth's nanny, Edna, liked to watch
"tela novelas" (Brazilian soap operas). She found a fast friend in Eri.

The Steeves, the Hickies and the Mays at the beach!

Kyle May and Leo Steeves.

Thanks Olmsted Foundation!