Reverse Culture Shock

I have been back in Canada for a few days now. There are a few things that have struck me here, the climate probably being the most painful. I must commend my fellow Canadians who have survived this crazy long winter up till now. And hang in there! It has to end sooner or later! Everyone I meet seems to have this mildly crazed look in their eyes, as they search for signs of spring. It will come. I am fairly certain of this.

I spent some time in a mall yesterday. It was a bit of an overwhelming experience. At first glance, malls in Canada really are not so different from malls in Brazil. The first thing I noticed, though, was how empty the mall was here. It doesn't matter what time of day it is, the mall will always be packed in Brazil. Always. It was also so QUIET! There was music playing in the background and some muted conversation, but there was no samba blaring through the speakers, no one was yelling into a cell phone, or even speaking loudly with their friends. In Brazil, no one goes to the mall by themselves. Here, I would say the majority of people appeared to be by themselves (including myself). 

What really got me, though, was how extremely (dare I say ridiculously) POLITE Canadians are! Some kid on a cell phone wandered within about a meter of me (didn't even touch me), and he got so flustered and apologized profusely. I stopped for a coffee, and was thanked for various things (like placing an order, receiving my coffee, moving out of someone's way) seven times. SEVEN! When I walked into a store, I was promptly offered assistance. When I (politely, with a thank you and a smile) refused, the sales person would smile, thank me, and back off. I even made small talk with the next customer in line in the food court! 

I don't mean to say that Brazilians are rude, because I really don't think they are. There are, however, significant differences in what is culturally expected in terms of etiquette. Please and thank you are words rarely used in Brazil. It is unnecessary to utter these words when your request is part of someone's job description or responsibility. It took me a while to figure this out. I was always mildly put off when, for example, we would pay our employees and not receive thanks, or when someone we were hosting would ask for something and not say please or thank you. But those things were expected of me. I didn't go out of my way, or do anything earth shattering. Why should they?

I guess what I'm saying is that Canadians should be proud of how polite they are. But be aware, to others, you might sound a little silly for how often you say 'please', 'thank you', 'you're welcome' and 'I'm sorry'!

So if you apologize because someone else stepping on your toe and they give you a strange look, just say, "I'm sorry, I'm Canadian!"

Easter Food and Looking Ahead

Last weekend we hosted our fourth group here at Sitio Recanto das Palmeiras. That's right. We've hosted four groups in the three months we have been open for business! 

Our first group was a group of 12 friends over New Year's weekend. Twelve is a nice sized group to get your feet wet. They were fun, laid back, and forgiving of our learning curve. Then we had a group of 15 English teachers. That was a CRAZY time because not only were we cooking all the food, but we also did almost all of the programming. But again, we were so pleased with how it went. Our last two groups have been church retreats, and we have only provided food, not programming. The first was over Carnaval and was a group of 25. Last weekend was a group of 50. Yikes. We have decided that with our current infrastructure, 50 is our maximum for now. 

Imagine cooking 3 kg (6.6 pounds) of rice at a time. Or 3 screaming pressure cookers cooking 3 kg of beans. That was the foundation of every lunch, which is the main meal of the day here. On top of that we would have some sort of salad and a meat dish (chicken with a vegetable cream sauce, a special bean dish with chunks of meat cooked in with it, and we even did a BBQ!) For one supper we did spaghetti and meatloaf (cause we decided meatballs are just WAY too much work). The other supper they had an 'evening of the nations' where they celebrated cultures from around the world. They wanted an international meal, so we did... A WIENER ROAST! I know that sounds ridiculous, but if you think about it, that is one of the most culturally unique things we do in North America. The concept doesn't even exist here. They had a fantastic time roasting dogs and marshmallows. 

After the wiener roast, they had a fashion show, modelling cultural clothing from around the world. Karl and I had the privilege of being the impartial judges! What a fun time that was! We saw Geishas, Bollywood stars, African tribesmen, Sheiks, Flamenco dancers, and more. They did a great job putting everything together.

Overall, it was a ton of work, absolutely exhausting, but a lot of fun. Each group we host, we become a little more organized, tweak a few more recipes, and generally stress just a little bit less. One of the best things we did this time around was hire an extra employee. This freed our regular employee up to focus just on food with us, while someone else kept the bathrooms clean, set up meal tables, washed towels, and helped wash dishes (no, we don't have a dishwasher here).

Looking ahead to the next couple of months, Karl and I will both be back in Manitoba for a few weeks. (If you would like to get together, let us know, we would love to visit with you!) Hopefully we can continue with improvements around the yard in May and June. Then July is going to be English month! July is holiday month here. Government and business run on bare bones staff, if at all, there is no school, and everyone travels and hangs out on the beaches during this time. Each week throughout July, we are offering a 5 day English Immersion experience. We will speak only English with the group, serve typical foods, have cultural activities, as well as some workshops. But this is not something we can pull off with just the two of us. We are looking for a handful of people who are interested in interacting with people who speak English as a second language (Any TESOL teachers or students reading this?!?) Also, we would love to find someone who can help us in the kitchen. If this is something you are interested in, let us know. We would love to tell you more about it and how you can get involved! 

Buying Groceries, Part 2

Just in case anyone was wondering, I went back to my bulk store the other day. I bought bags. The grocery packer packed my purchases in the bags.

My guess? The other guy was just on auto-pilot and packed my bags in the same way he packed all the other groceries coming across the counter, since a lot of people don't use bags there.

And now you know the rest of the story.

Buying Groceries

I hope this blog doesn't turn into me dwelling on all the little things I find challenging here in Brazil. But this one really made me shake my head. Let me know if you have the same response when you finish reading this...

I am VERY excited that a wholesale store has just opened within about 5 km's of our place (like Costco: Buy in bulk, get good deals) It allows me to get fantastic prices that I previously had to head into Fortaleza for, and allows me to avoid the heat and congestion of Caucaia. The only down side is that you have to bring your own bag/boxes or buy them. (Effectively ruining my free source of garbage bags, but I'll get over that.)

Back to the story... I finish my shopping at this sparkling new store and unload my purchases at the checkout, remembering to ask for my bags at the beginning. (Trying to be extra efficient.) I even lay out my purchases in the order I want them packed! I pay, walk to the other end to retrieve my already-packed cart... Only to find that absolutely everything was loose in the cart, with the bags neatly folded... at the bottom.

Before I knew it, I was tearing a strip off the packer, wondering why in the WORLD he would not have USED the bags I so begrudgingly bought. (On the plus side, I will take it as a sign that I am becoming more and more comfortable with Portuguese, seeing the words flew out of my mouth long before my brain realized what my mouth was doing!)

The response from this poor flustered kid? "Umm.... we're not allowed to...." Is what I believe he said as he bolted away at an impressive speed.

So with a shake of my head that rivalled my puppies wake-up head shake, I turned and went back to my cart, unloading everything from the cart to get the bags, then packing everything into my newly purchased bags, then back into the cart.

Are you shaking your head yet?

I am still trying to decide if I will ask a manager WHY they have grocery packers on their payroll if they don't (can't??) actually pack groceries. Then again, I have learned that for the most part, WHY questions are an exercise in futility here. Generally the only result of asking 'why' is an elevation in my blood pressure.

I guess next time I will just have to modify my check-out counter strategy.

Dancing... aka Driving

Traffic is always a challenge here in Brazil. In Canada, I found driving to be a relaxing activity, good for organizing my thoughts and contemplating life. Here? Not so much. Every ounce of mental energy I have is focused on the road.

Karl's parents are here visiting us these days, so we have been putting more-than-average kilometres on the car as we show them the sights. All this time in the car reminds me of just how different the rules of the road are here. And by rules, I mean guidelines or suggestions... ideals really. For example, the other day I was going grocery shopping, which involves a 5 km drive. I decided to count the number of Canadian infractions/faux pas' I committed during that drive. When I reached 16 and still was not at the grocery store, I decided it was time to stop counting.


I don't think I'm  the only one who thinks drivers are risk-takers here. This is a sign we pass on a regular basis. It says "Respect Life". Is it crude? Probably. Does it get the point across? I'm not sure.

It is not uncommon to be passed at breakneck speeds around blind curves and over hills. Motorcycles think they MUST drive along the dotted line, and weave in and out of traffic, flying through stoplights. Then add bicyclists who will happily avoid what few paths exist to drive directly on the road, never looking behind them to see if someone is coming. Then there are horses. And donkeys pulling carts. And tractors. And every now and then a stray cow. And just in case things were not bad enough, add a generous number of potholes large enough to keep your tire and axle if you hit them. 

My latest pet peeve about traffic is people who need to stop along the way. Even if there is a generous shoulder, (which, granted, often doesn't exist) people feel the need to keep at least 1/3 of their vehicle on the road. This effectively does the same thing as stopping smack dab in the centre of the road. So frustrating. It leaves me driving in the lane of oncoming traffic, or slamming on my breaks to allow an oncoming car to pass. 

Fortunately, there is a language of communication among motorists. It consists of horn honking, similar to Morse Code, and headlight flashing. Essentially the language boils down to this: the longer the honk, the angrier the other driver, or the more dangerous the situation. And, if someone flashes their headlights at you, YIELD! They are probably committed to passing someone (or avoiding a parked car) and will occupy your lane for the next while. If you don't want to have a head-on, YIELD. 

My last complaint about traffic is the engineer who decided where and in which direction the streets run. In downtown Caucaia, for example, all the streets are one ways. Which sounds like a good idea. But all the streets on one side of the centre run in the same direction, and all the streets on the other run the opposite. That means there is no backtracking. If you miss your turnoff, you must literally pass through the most crowded part of the city to find a one way taking you back to where you started to try again. Once, I missed my turn and it took me 45 extra minutes to get where I was going! 

Also, don't expect to be able to turn left. Ever. Here, 3 rights equal a left... Usually. You can see one of my favourite signs below. I like it because really, this is what you do every time you need to get to your left. But this is one of the only signs I have found that explains how to successfully complete the manoeuvre. 

So when I go into Fortaleza to run errands, I make a list, analyze where each one is located, and carefully plan my route, because there is no going back. At least not without wasting oodles of time and becoming rather frustrated. 

I don't mean to bash the way people drive here. There are some positives to the system here. For example, I liken driving here to a dance, you must learn to read what the dancers around you are doing, and then compensate. It might mean you have to speed a little, or drift into the next lane. But it does often keep things moving. In Canada, people think the dotted yellow line is a brick wall, and must never be crossed without adequate signalling and shoulder checking. Canadian drivers follow rules. Brazilian drivers follow the flow. Besides, based on the way Karl and I drive here, I guess we have to remember that while there's one finger pointing at society, there are four fingers pointing back at us. Oh well. When in Rome... 

Reflecting on One Year in Brazil

One year ago today, almost to the hour, our plane touched down in Fortaleza, delivering us to our new home. We arrived exhausted, overwhelmed by the heat and humidity and noise. Guess we forgot to check the calendar, and arrived a couple of days before Carnival started! 

I think back to those first few weeks here, and I am so amazed at how far we have come. In this year, we found an amazing place, bought it, renovated the guest areas top to bottom, set up a business, and we have already hosted three successful events here! 

I have gone from being insecure in my language, frequently asking people to repeat themselves, or looking to Karl for translation, to a level of linguistic confidence I have never had before. I can now not only talk about the weather and the beach, but I'm also fluent in construction, and quickly learning accounting and small business law! 

I have gone from sitting anxiously in the passenger seat as Karl weaves in traffic to breezing through the transit on my own. 

I've learned the prices of everything from fruits and veggies to cars to clothes, to refrigerators to toilets, and won't settle for anything but a stellar deal. 

I've learned that I am a lot stronger than I ever would have imagined. 

I've learned that homesickness is ok. But life without Skype and iMessage would be unbearable. 

I've wanted to give up. I've wanted to succeed. I've seriously questioned my sanity. 

But here we are one year later, sanity intact. Mostly. I have experienced some of my highest highs this year as well as some of my lowest lows. 

I wish I could say everything is marvellous and we have no doubts or regrets having embarked on this adventure, but that would be a lie. I do know that I have grown by leaps and bounds, and there is no regret in that. 

I know that anytime the homesickness is just too much, I am only a day away from the family and friends who support us. 

And so we dive into year number two, armed with skills and knowledge we most certainly did not have a year ago. I am hopeful for what this second year will bring, but I am also fully aware that it will be a year of long, long work hours, frustrations, disappointments and challenges. I also promise myself that it will be a year filled with hours in the pool, dancing on the seashore with my pups, exploring new destinations, meeting new people, developing new connections and relationships, and generally making this place feel a little more like home. 

Property Tax

A new year brings all sorts of new and exciting things here, like rain and holidays... Like taxes. And there are lots of them here, (taxes, I mean) most of them being due at the end of January. This is our first time having to sort through the assortment of business and personal taxes that are due. Let's just say it is a learning curve. 

I assumed that like most of the country, our property tax would also be due at the end of January. I have already learned not to fully trust the postal system, so when January came and went, and we had not yet received our property tax bill, I thought I'd better investigate. Property taxes fall under the municipal jurisdiction. So I started with their website, which I discovered is under maintenance right now. 

So with a deep sigh, I put on pants (as compared to shorts, that is. Gotta wear pants when going to government buildings. Refer to THIS post for another pants - or lack thereof - story), reminded myself to be patient (It was 6 days after I thought the bill was due, so I was expecting huge lineups of other tardy folks like myself), and made sure I arrived at 8:15 (the offices open at 8:00, but government employees have a 15 minute grace period for showing up to work). 

I walked into the (blissfully) air conditioned building and was pleasantly surprised at the very short line and abundant number of employees working. 

When my turn came up, I began by explaining that my property tax bill had not yet shown up in the mail, blah, blah, blah. The lady helping me cut me off, informing me that in our municipality property taxes are due in July, not January. (Yay, I am not tardy after all!) She reassured me that I was not in fact late, and encouraged me not to worry about it for another 6 months... In fact, I shouldn't worry about it at all! This government employee proceeded to advise me that really, I shouldn't bother paying my property taxes until for some reason (like selling the property), someone checked up on us! The punctual, law-abiding, rule-following Canadian in me gasped in horror. Not pay taxes!?!? Who would do such a thing? The ever-growing Brazilian in me smiled and said, 'Nice! An extra couple hundred bucks in my pocket!'

The punctual, law-abiding, rule-following Canadian in me would like to think that for the most part people pay their bills and pay them in a timely manner. The experienced side of me knows this is not the case. For example, I know someone who had not paid their property taxes in 13 years. And here's the best part: NO ONE CARES! I also know someone who had literally THOUSANDS of dollars of unpaid phone bills. First, I was amazed they weren't just cut off. Second, the phone company will offer you all sorts of low-interest payment plans in a very kind, solicitous manner. But I guess that getting some money out of people is better than getting nothing. 

Every single day I manage to be amazed by the differences that exist between my own culture and the culture I am living in. Some of them I love, and I feel so privileged to be a Canadian living in Brazil. Some of them frustrate me. Some I just don't understand, so I shrug and move on. Some make me laugh. Some make me go 'hmmm'. And every now and then (if I am perfectly honest), some of those differences just seem wrong to me. 

My hope is that through all this, I am becoming a more well-rounded, culturally sensitive global citizen. My fear is that I am becoming cynical and judgmental. What I suspect is happening is that I am taking a little of where I come from, combining it with a little of where I am now, and the result will be a quirky person who doesn't quite fit in no matter where she goes. 

So will I pay my property taxes? Ask me in July!