Semana 2: Sei falar português?

I also came up with this question while ruminating in the airplane, except only now (Thursday evening, my second week in South America) did I decide that I should write it in Portuguese. We can count that, I suppose, as a partial answer to this question concerning whether I can speak this language.

Throughout the years, I had picked up a little Portuguese from listening to music and having Brazilian friends. I also speak French and Spanish, which are both romance languages, and which I knew would give me a significant leg up for when I finally decided to enhance my knowledge of Portuguese. Thanks to knowing French and Spanish, reading Portuguese comes easily enough. I never formally studied it, unless you count two hours in the plane reading a PDF of Portuguese grammar and filling out verb conjugation sheets as studying. I figured I would just pretend I already spoke it once I got to Brazil, fully aware that I would probably embarrass myself, misunderstand something, and/or look like a bumbling fool. 

These last ten days in São Paulo, I have been going around and dealing with my limited social interactions completely in Portuguese. By limited social interactions, I mean checking into the hotel, calling a cab, ordering food, and going to museums. I find that while people get what I say, I sometimes do not understand them back, and I have to smile and nod and reply with "ta bom" and hope for the best. I also rely heavily on context clues, which has served me well when I don't understand the words people are saying. 

People understand me because pronunciation has always been my strong suit when learning a new language, and I find that now, I care a lot less about getting the grammar and sentence structure right immediately; I care more about being understood.  

This is a good demonstration of the personal growth I've experienced this last decade. Not to bring up my year abroad in France again, but prior to living in France, I took four years of French classes, from 6th-10th grade. I cared about getting perfect scores on exams and getting the grammar right, because I wanted to sound and talk like the French people did. I achieved all that and more; when I lived in France, my classmates would sometimes ask me to look over their writing because I had studied it formally and could spot mistakes they overlooked. This was the high bar I set for myself in future considerations of whether I knew a language. 

Maybe it's age, but maybe it's also my mind wanting to be a lot of places and not dedicate another four years to grammar for any given language, but the bar has been lowered. Like, a lot. I still love grammar, however, and I am still hesitant to say I can speak Portuguese. This is just one tiny example of the forces in conflict within myself. Yes, people understand me when I speak the little Portuguese I know, arguably enough to get by and express what I need. But I haven't spent enough time in this country developing relationships with native speakers for me to truly consider Portuguese one of the languages I speak. In some blog entry many years ago, I wrote that after spending a certain amount of time in Bolivia, Spanish had become a language my heart understood. That is my new bar. 

That being said, I have been having a fantastic time in São Paulo, a city I had long dreamed of visiting. Let me tell you more about it through these pictures while sharing more about my Portuguese endeavors!

While walking down Rua Augusta, James and I smelled freshly-baked cookies. The cookies in the display case looked as good as they smelled, so we decided to stop by and treat ourselves to a cookie and passionfruit juice. The guy attending the shop struck up a conversation with us. We did not understand the first thing he asked us, but eventually I recognized the word "intercambista," which means the same thing in Spanish: exchange student. I thought it was cute that he thought we were exchange students; in our past lives, James and I both were. He lived in Switzerland the year after I lived in France. But no, we explained that we were just visiting.

Our cookie shop companion did not speak any English, so we did the best we could to chat with him. He was a great sport and bore with us as we fumbled through our Portuguese. Eventually I found out that he had a Filipino friend. I asked if she lived in São Paulo, but he said no, she lives in the Philippines and they met through an app. When they chat, they have to use a translator. I thought it lovely that he was able to meet somebody from across the world and communicate with them. Today's technology has given people to communicate with others whom they never could have met otherwise. It helps foster connections between people, especially across the Global South, who might not have the privilege to travel. In an ideal world, everyone would be able to explore and meet other people without barriers imposed by geopolitics and capitalism. In this ideal world, it would be easy for the cookie shop attendant to hop on a plane and discover the Philippines, making more friends along the way. For now, I was glad to hear that the cookie guy had found a friend in a faraway place. I hope one day they get to meet in real life.

After we left the cookie shop, James and I reached our destination–Casa Santa Luzia. I only made it a point to go there because I wanted to find harissa paste somewhere in the city. Why I was looking for harissa is a story for another time, but I was excited to learn about this enormous international goods supermarket not too far from where we were staying. I love going to grocery stores in new places I visit, but this place was on a whole other level. It had a water wheel at its entrance, high ceilings, massive stained glass windows, and so many fantastic food products. It was honestly a spiritual experience. James and I immediately decided to buy the tote bag with the illustration of the store's entrance on it when we saw it, and we will very proudly tote it when we return back to the United States. Take that, Trader Joe's!

James left last Saturday, and I have been on my own in São Paulo since then. I was a little nervous because I am not used to spending extended periods of time by myself, but fortunately, I had people to meet in São Paulo. One of my Bolivian friends who studied in the city sent me contact information for two of his friends, and I connected with them via Instagram. I've been managing to text them and make plans in Portuguese, and last Sunday, I met up with one of them for a lovely bike ride along the Pinheiros River. 

I spy...a CAPYBARA!

Although she had sent me a voice message in English, Barbara greeted me in Portuguese when she first met me. I decided to run with it and see how much I could get by talking to her in Portuguese. We managed to have a conversation while biking, though we did eventually switch to English too. We spent the afternoon going back and forth between languages. Barbara was so patient with me as I asked her what certain words meant, and as I slowly tried to explain what I was even doing in Brazil and what my job was. I felt my Portuguese improve so much within the few hours I spent with her, and my whole experience of the city changed drastically just being with somebody who called it home. 

After our bike ride, we went to a typical Brazilian churrasco restaurant deBetti. Google Maps says it's an "industrial chic steakhouse" which describes it better than I could. 

The food was absolutely divine. While we hung out, Barbara gave me other recommendations for things to do in São Paulo. I told her I wanted to eat açaí, and she said I should check out this chain called Oakberry. While at Parque Ibirapuera on Wednesday, I did just that and enjoyed it while taking a relaxing walk along the Lago das Garças. 

Another thing Barbara told me I should do was check out the viewing platform in this building called SESC on Avenida Paulista, the big commercial street next to my hotel. I do not entirely understand what SESC is, but I just looked it up and it stands for "Serviço Social do Comércio," which doesn't help. Not to consult Google Maps again, but apparently it's a "cultural center with a lending library & art exhibitions, plus a rooftop deck with city views." The catch, though, is that you basically have to be Brazilian to gain entrance. To access the facilities, you need to be registered, and to register, you need a Brazilian ID (at least that's my understanding, don't quote me, this is not legal advice, etc.). 

Barbara was undeterred and told me that she would schedule an appointment on the SESC app for me to go to the viewpoint whenever I wanted. Once scheduled, she would send me a screenshot of the QR code. I would just have to show the QR code to the security and reception, and then I should be set. 

On Tuesday, QR code in hand, I waltzed into the SESC building. I told the security guard I was going to the viewpoint and flashed her the code, and she said "go to reception." So I went to reception, praying they wouldn't see it was a screenshot from half an hour ago. I told them I was going to the viewpoint, hoping I didn't sound too much like a fraud, and they scanned the code and said something back that I did not understand. Mission accomplished! Almost. I followed the crowd to the elevators, though I had no idea which elevator I had to go to. I went into a random one and it automatically took me to a floor that was not the top floor. Fortunately, the elevator hall had a nifty machine where you could put in the floor you were going to, so I put the highest floor and it told me what elevator to go to. Finally, I made it to the top. 

View from the street - the viewpoint is where that Brazilian flag is and where people are standing

While admiring the view of Avenida Paulista and the city as a whole, I worked up the courage to ask a couple who was taking pictures if they would take a picture for me. As you can see above, it turned out amazing. Of course, I took a picture for them in return. 

Another person I made plans to see was Larissa, Vivi's sister, a lawyer who works in São Paulo. Larissa was a Rotary exchange student in Turkey a few years before Vivi and I lived in France, so I assumed that she would be down to try out a new cuisine. Well, new to her at least–I was set on checking out the only Filipino restaurant in the city and was really hoping she could come with me. 

I discovered Filipinas Restaurante Oriental by randomly typing "filipino food" into Google Maps and was pleased to see that it existed. On Wednesday night, I took the metro to São Paulo's Asian quarter, found the restaurant, and walked in. I greeted the attendants with a "kumusta!" and they were shocked to hear Tagalog coming from someone they thought was Japanese. (A lot of people of Japanese descent live in Brazil, which is really cool because looking Asian does not make me look that different from people who live here.) They enthusiastically greeted me back, and I chatted with them in Tagalog while waiting for Larissa to arrive. It felt like I was transported home. 

Once Larissa arrived, she gave me permission to order whatever I wanted. So I ordered lumpiang shanghai, chicken adobo, pork sisig, and rice. Then we topped it all off with halo-halo and pictures with the ladies running the restaurant. 

Larissa ended up loving the food. She told me that she wanted to bring her friends there now and would probably order delivery on long days at her office. It was so much fun hearing the ladies speak in Portuguese with her and others who came in, and I attempted to speak some Portugalog with them as well. I learned that they had been in São Paulo for more than ten years, and to return to the Philippines, they have to fly to Dubai and then to Manila. Larissa and I both took home a generous amount of leftovers. I hugged the ladies good-bye, and they told me to come back soon. I left feeling emotional and immensely happy to have shared my culture with Larissa, but I also felt a tinge of sadness knowing how far away the ladies were from our homeland and how difficult it is for them to return. 

It is now my last full day in Brazil (yes I wrote this over two days), and I wanted to include one last anecdote here. When not taking the metro, whose reach is somewhat limited, I would take Ubers or taxis around the city. I normally am not very chatty in cars, and especially less so here when speaking Portuguese makes me a little nervous. But I had an Uber driver the other day who made me feel differently. 

After a somewhat chaotic pickup near Parque Ibirapuera involving me looking up the word "orange" to text my driver that I was wearing an orange shirt, I got into my Uber. The driver started talking to me, and I can't remember what prompted it, but I told him it was my first time in Brazil. He replied, "Oh! I thought you were Brazilian. Your Portuguese is great." Something about that compliment made me feel like talking to him more, so like I did with Barbara, I forged ahead trying to form sentences and strike a conversation. We didn't speak the whole ride, but we chatted a bit, and I learned that he was born and raised in the city. Just before he dropped me off at my hotel, he asked me if I liked ice cream. I told him yes, and he recommended a novelty ice cream shop just across the street that I should go to. I thanked him for the recommendation and told him I would check it out. So today, in his honor, and because I love ice cream, I went and paid Dona Nuvem a visit. 

"Nuvem" means cloud, and this adorable ice cream cone has a cotton candy cloud, açaí soft serve, popcorn, and chocolate sprinkles. Plus, for the final touch, I got to choose a whimsical theme. They didn't have the chocolate llama, so I chose mermaid. 

And with that in mind, I prepare to travel once more to a landlocked country tomorrow. Muito obrigada Brasil e até logo!