futebol gol...

I played soccer the other night because I was convinced by my roommate that it would be a fun time.  When I say that I "played" soccer, I mean I ran around aimlessly and sometimes the ball bumped into my foot.  By "ran" I mean walked or stood in what I claimed as my “zone.”  There’s such a thing as zone defense, yes?  Zone offense?  How about “I’m staying in this space because I don’t know why we sometimes stand behind the line, sometimes on the line, sometimes kick it in from the side, sometimes kick it in from the corner and I like it right here where I’m standing” zone?  I did have fun, no one took it too seriously, which is exactly how I prefer to play sports, no audience, no expectations, no athletic skills whatsoever.  I did happen to make a goal (meaning I was standing in my “zone” near the goal and the ball bounced off my foot into the goal).  I didn’t screw it up by exerting energy and kicking the ball in the opposite direction of the goal, out of bounds, or to the other team (and I did all those things at several other points during the game), so I suppose I can claim some credit, but by most accounts it was a fortunate coincidence.  I came to the game believing it would be some soccer and some volleyball, but an hour and a half later we were still playing soccer, even after one team member had to go home and put her kids to bed, one got hit in the face, and one twisted an ankle.  Yet...the game continued (we stopped for a moment when my teammate got hit in the face and the other team asked, “are you okay? yes? it’s our ball then.”)  So when I said it wasn’t a serious game, maybe I meant I wasn’t serious, because some of these ladies in their soccer jerseys were serious about playing until the cows came home (or 9:30, which happened to come first)…no blood, no foul.  Next time the soccer jerseys will be my first clue.

On Saturday, I got a call from the husband of a lady I work with at the school.  He called at 11:00 and asked if I wanted to join he and his wife for an Italian lunch at 11:30 and if any of my roommates were at home then one of them could join us too (but there was only room for one).  My roommates were already heading out for the afternoon so they didn't have to draw straws, but I certainly wasn't going to turn down an invitation for food.  This lovely Brazilian couple drove me to downtown Sao Paulo to an Italian restaurant, where we had bread with red peppers, toasted bread with cheese, toasted bread with tomatoes, toasted bread with garlic, salad, spaetzle-type noodles with sausage and a breaded meat that took up half of my large plate...then, Pudim de Leite (milk pudding that is a traditional Brazilian dish) for dessert.  I was literally full until the next day, not just not hungry, full.  During dinner, I was asked how I would describe the husband to someone else.  Being that he is a big guy, I focused my description on his beard and glasses.  He asked then if I would also say that he was fat...I sputtered and he laughed.  His wife said he likes to mess with Americans because we feel badly for calling someone fat, but Brazilians would not hesitate to use that physical description (or call out any other physical characteristic of a person, so I was told).  He also asked me if I had a boyfriend, and when I said I did not, he asked if I would be looking for a Brazilian boyfriend...more sputtering.  He said that some American girls very firmly state that they do not want a Brazilian boyfriend, and that hurts his feelings as a Brazilian.  I certainly got an education Saturday afternoon at an Italian restaurant with two native Brazilians.  On the way home, they took me by a huge cathedral, the tribune, by several old Catholic, Presbyterian, and Methodist churches, by a college that was begun by the Jesuits before the city started, and by the older downtown where the zero mark is, or the beginning of the city (all of the city streets are measured from this point).  I forgot my camera (since I didn't know an afternoon tour was also on the menu), but I will now take my camera with me everywhere I go and become that girl that people roll their eyes at for taking pictures of anything and everything.  That is my next week's resolution.

Saturday night we "sprang forward" on our clocks because it is spring in this hemisphere.  So much for being an hour different than home, now it's two (and when daylight savings takes effect in the states, three).  Last Sunday morning my computer and iPod clocks both "fell back" automatically (for reasons unbeknownst to me), so I was ready at 9:00 to leave for church and went to knock on my roommate's door to see why she wasn't ready.  She wasn't ready because it was actually 8:00 and it was still an hour before we had to leave for church...oops.  This Sunday I got it right.  We went to American church in the morning, followed by a trip to Wal-mart (same signs, same blue vests, only half an aisle of cereal, which disappointed me), and Portuguese church in the evening.  I got a funny fruit at Wal-mart that my Brazilian roommate suggested, a pinha.  I haven't tried it yet, but it looks like this...

Another Brazilian treat that my roommate has made for us a few times is brigadeiro (chocolate balls).  Her recipe (in her precise words)...1 can sweeten condensed milk, 1 (big old) spoon of butter, 2 (big old) spoons of Nestle Quik cocoa powder, cook on low heat until it pulls away from the pan (keep stirring continually), let cool, roll into balls, and roll in sprinkles.  Nothing made with chocolate and a lot of butter can be bad!

Tomorrow is a new week, I'll begin with my elementary ESL students this week and continue with my pre-schoolers.  I found colored noodles and M&M's at Wal-mart to work on patterns with my pre-schoolers!  I also saw one of my pre-schoolers at church this morning and he waved enthusiastically and yelled Mrs. Julia, Mrs. Julia (with their accent it sounds like Mrs. Zhulia, Mrs. Zhulia, and I have no idea how Miss turned to Mrs.)!  I love them all already!