Cesareia de Filipe...

I returned to the Southern Hemisphere on a Tuesday afternoon after a, thankfully, uneventful flight where the only quasi-event was that I was really wishing for my own pair of seats on our not too full flight and ended up next to someone who was particularly chatty about politics, geography, ethnic groups, religion...it was an interesting flight.  I saw a couple from school at the airport when I arrived in São Paulo.  We met in the baggage claim area and found out we had all been on the same 10 hour flight from Chicago and none of us had any idea.  I had Wednesday to rest and unpack and then on Thursday, bright and early at 6:45 a.m., my colleagues and I boarded a big bus to Cesareia de Filipe, a camp outside the city, for our annual PACA teachers' retreat.  We took highway most of the way, but the last leg of the trip took our pretty large bus down a very small road.  Small meaning we needed to back up to let other cars or trucks pass because it was a one vehicle at a time road, small meaning that sometimes there were only inches of clearance on either side of the bus and I could have literally put my hand out the window and touched the wall or tree we happened to be passing with little to no effort.  If I wasn't claustrophobic before, I may have acquired the phobia.  But it was a lovely trip down this small road, trees and flowers e.very.where!  And the camp was just as beautiful, with hills and green and sky in all directions.  I love every kind of camp, and this place did not disappoint.  The only downfall to the beautiful scenery was that the lovely hills surrounding us included a big downhill to the dining hall and thus a big uphill later on and another uphill to the chapel after that.  It was a not so gentle reminder that I am not in shape for four sets of stairs several times a day.  Maybe I'll resolve to be in 'four sets of stairs' kind of shape next winter...we'll see.  I also discovered the next morning at camp that I was without a warm shower, not a huge surprise in a camp setting, but a disappointment nonetheless.  I turned the water on and it was lukewarm bordering on cold.  I turned the handle from one side to another with no noticeable change and then I noticed some buttons on the showerhead so I messed with those too, again no noticeable change.  I eventually just braced myself, jumped in and out as quickly as possible and chalked it up to camp showers.  I got my education on our camp showers, which included an education on electric showerheads, later on at breakfast when my bunk buddy explained what a nice warm shower she had that morning and I tried to blame her for taking all the hot water.  I'd heard of electric showerheads, but had not reached the point of requiring an explanation until that morning...too little, too late.  These showerheads apparently electrically heat the water before it comes out in each individual shower, instead of using a central water heater.  I was told that turning the water on low makes it warmer because there is less water to heat (I had mine on full blast), again, too little, too late.  I also found out that you are only supposed to touch those buttons on top of the showerhead when the water is off, as it is an electrically powered object and can cause an electric shock...I may forget everything else about electric showerheads, but this I will remember for next time.  All in all, it was a fun trip, card games, singing, group activities, unpredictable weather, and cold showers...all the things that make camp fun!

  

  

back home again in Indiana...

     

  

minha familia

  

 

minhas amigas

  

are we there yet?

I've discovered that I'm very needy…in order to get to the airport to fly home for Christmas, my roommate Jean had to call a friend who called a friend to find me a taxi in Alphaville where we were staying, my roommate Claryssa had to explain my situation (being an ignoramus) to the taxi company, the housing community's security, and the taxi driver in Portuguese, and Jean had to loan me money and tell me where to go when I would eventually arrive at the airport…so many people in this production called “Getting Julia to the Airport.”  I did finally get on my way, with many thanks to my roommates for helping the American dum-dum.  I made the 45 minute ride to the airport from Alphaville in record time, 1 hour and 45 minutes (due to a rainy day and terrible traffic)…leaving Alphaville at 6:00, arriving at the airport at 7:45…the driver then blew right past the terminal for United, I assumed he knew something I didn’t know so I didn't point out that we'd passed my terminal, turns out he didn’t…we arrived at the last terminal and he told me to call my Portuguese-speaking friend and ask her again where he was supposed to drop me off…I said "Porque? United (pointing), numero um." (more pointing)…he drove me around again and packed my luggage onto a cart and I was on my way…I arrived inside to see people e.ver.y.where!!!...I see a huge line snaking all the way back to the door and hope that isn’t my line….I fight the people and luggage carts with my own giant luggage cart only to find the beginning of a line for United to Chicago that snakes all the way back to, you guessed it, the door where I'd come in…I went and stood in that atrocious line and figured out after 15 minutes, a Japan Air stewardess, being surrounded by Japanese people, and only being able to pick out one word in all the Portuguese conversations surrounding me…"japonês" (Portuguese for Japanese)…so I exit this line and fight my way back to the United signs where I stand in everyone's way and a lady says, "Washington?" and points to where I’m standing and I say, "Chicago, aqui?" and point to the line where she’s standing…I move over and now I’m in the right line, the first of four….I got in this line at around 8:00 p.m., good to go, 2 ½ hours to my departure…and then a lady comes through the line and says the flight to Chicago has been delayed 3 hours and will now be departing at 1:30 a.m., not awesome, but at least I have further confirmed that I’m in the right line…I wait in this line until 10:30 p.m., my former departure time, having just now gotten rid of my luggage...I get to the front of this line (which I was beginning to believe might not happen in my lifetime) and the lady asks me a bunch of questions about my carry-on, the usual, knifes, strangers handling my luggage, liquids and a few bonus questions....how long ago did you pack your bag…where has your bag been since you packed it…who packed your bag…where did you pack your bag…um, me, mine, meu, meus…it is all my stuff and I don’t let others touch it or even look at it funny, now let me go…let me go, on to the next line, that is, where I can pull my broken carry-on suitcase in such a way that it hits me in either the heel or the back of my leg each time I move it (about 156 times)…I get to the front of the security line, feeling a little claustrophobic from the people, people, people and a little (lot) like I need a restroom (which I have felt like since about 30 minutes into the 90 minute cab ride, but I am not permitted to leave my baggage unattended and no way was I going to get out of line to use the restroom, I’ll develop a bladder infection first)…I go through security, and lucky me, I am chosen to have my bags opened and inspected by a guy who drops my peanutbutter sandwich on the floor as he is stuffing my things very precariously back into my suitcase, he doesn’t notice, other people step on it and kick it around, he finishes and I pick it up because it is wrapped in a paper towel and a Ziploc and I’m hungry (and I definitely eat it when I arrive at my gate…eventually, though I am worried about the person who is paid to "inspect" my suitcase who doesn't notice he is dropping things out of it, maybe a new job where it isn't critical that you take notice would be good for him)…then I see that I will have the privilege of standing in another line, goody…I get to the front of this line and hand over everything in my possession because I have no idea what this line is or what they want, I just got in the line marked “foreigners” because that is what I am…this lady points to a white paper (which I do not have, let alone have filled out and ready to give her), so she gives me a paper and a pen and tells me to get out of line and fill it out…I’m done in about 30 seconds, but she already has another patron (victim) so I have to wait and wait and wait for a lady and her two daughters (who had Brazilian passports which I believe means that they did not belong in the foreigners line) and wait some more while three more people came and went from the line beside me...and finally it is my turn, finally she lets me through after I relinquish my completed white form, finally I can find a bathroom, and finally I can sit down at my gate and wait, wait, wait some more for my flight to leave Brazil at 1:30 a.m. because right now it is only 11:30 p.m.  I think that maybe someday I’ll make it to Chicago and then Indianapolis, but I can't pretend I'm not a little worried about what could happen in between…at least I packed truffles in my carry-on, that made me a happier girl! Though, I discovered later that our flight had been delayed because the plane arriving from Chicago couldn’t be serviced in a timely manner because the port-o-pots were frozen, very nice.  

I'd like to say that the next leg of the trip was entirely uneventful, but the plane was being manned by a whole crew of mean, middle-aged stewardesses…shouting at those who obviously didn’t speak English about chicken or beef..”WHAT DO YOU WANT?”…and talking louder and slower must be part of their training for dealing with foreigners because that was their norm (works like a charm, hmm?)…shining flashlights on people in an otherwise dark cabin to make sure we had our seatbelts on.  I asked one particularly delightful stewardess to borrow a pen or pencil to fill out my customs form and she said "no" and walked away without so much as an explanation (what is the reasoning for denying me a writing utensil?)…another told me to “just go” into the restroom when I hesitated, trying to figure out how to get around her big food cart blocking the restroom door.  Thank goodness for my aisle seat to prevent me from going postal from claustrophobia, exhaustion, and not so friendly skies. 

I arrived in Chicago to giant, fluffy white snowflakes, which were loveeely! After leaving Alphaville at 6:00 p.m., arriving at the airport at 7:45 p.m., standing in line to check luggage until 10:30 p.m., standing in line for security until 11:30 p.m., sitting at my gate waiting to leave São Paulo until 1:30 a.m., (this delayed flight from Chicago caused me to miss my connecting flight to Indianapolis that was supposed to leave at 7:30 a.m.…we didn’t arrive into Chicago until 8:30 a.m.), flying from São Paulo to Chicago from 2:15 a.m. to 8:30 a.m., going through immigration, baggage claim, customs, baggage re-checking, and the train from Terminal 5 (where I was) to Terminal 1 (where I needed to go), going through security again (though I’m not certain what I could have acquired between where the train picked me up at Terminal 5 and dropped me off at Terminal 1, but whatever, I’m clean, let me fly)…the lady at security was really jolly and asked where my smile was, which might have annoyed me, but I was glad there was someone friendly compared to the wicked witches of the west that I had just spent 10 hours of my life with at 30,000 feet.  I arrived at Terminal 1, Gate C30  by 10:30 a.m., just in time for my 1:10 p.m. flight, which was set to arrive in Indianapolis (hopefully with my luggage accompanying) at 3:10 p.m. (6:10 p.m. São Paulo time, just a mere 24 hours from when I left).  I. was. so. tired!  But I did enjoy watching the snow fall outside my window by Gate C30, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!!!  My Indianapolis flight did eventually leave at 1:30 p.m., arriving in Indianapolis at 3:30 p.m., after a short delay to repair the intercom system, where minha familia was awaiting me at baggage claim where all my bags showed up and I got hugs, hugs, hugs.  It was a long trip, but worth every minute to see my dear family's faces peeking around the conveyer belts and piles of luggage!  Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!!!