25/3

I went to bed last night with my backpack sitting by the door and my Google map printed. First thing this morning I headed to São Paulo's infamous street 25 de Março (March 25th), an enormous commercial area in the center of town. Many Paulistanos (São Paulo natives) avoid this area. It used to be the commercial center of the city in the 30's and some of the historical buildings still remain (incredible architecture). But for the most part it is crowded, dirty, and confusing. I love it. You can find absolutely everything you need for crafting. Plus there is just tons of junk you don't and do need--costume jewelry, housewares, shoes, bootlegged designer wear, costumes. Just name something and, well, it is there. Best of all, it is at least half the price of the same product in a more upscale neighborhood. But you have to go with stamina and a discerning eye (BTW, don't dress nicely and keep your money close in a fanny pack). But it is worth it. For something you buy at vinte-cinco really takes on another value-added dimension when you get it out of vinte-cinco. (i.e. cheap can look expensive)

I went with a pretty strict list of items needed for an upcoming party--otherwise I know I'd lose my day wandering. On the list: grosgrain ribbon, fabrics, felt, paint, pillow stuffing, and colored steel buckets. And I also did something many Paulistanos avoid: I walked there. And I took the bus back home. I live in a town that does not have many pedestrians. Cars, cars, cars and traffic, traffic, traffic. Public transportation is pretty lousy. And, in third world countries (this will take a whole other post and will not sound politically correct) buses are the primary mode of transport for those who cannot afford a car. But I hate to drive. And I love to walk. I would have come back on foot if I didn't have so much loot to haul. Because, by the way, a huge traffic jam (a bomb threat downtown--don't ask) halted traffic. It took me 1 hour and 20 to get there on foot and 2 hours and 20 (sitting in a bus thinking about my time away from Georgia) to get home.

With the exception of a random costume shop (Snow White for little G), I stuck to my list and only visited three of the more than 1,500 shops:

Malhuy Tecidos - 100% cotton fabric prints
Rei do Armarinho - Ribbon, notions, and craft heaven
Aycrem - Felt

I'd love any other tips on 25/3. Do share.

Happy Carnival!

Is it any surprise my child cannot get to sleep? Is it normal for parents to be throwing confetti around the living room at 9 pm? Probably not. But we sure had fun. And we have an excuse. It's Carnival here in Brazil. Everyone is misbehaving until Ash Wednesday.

We are off to samba our toes into the sand...another extra-long holiday weekend at the beach.

Perfect

Did we eat a pound of Panettone per person or was it a pound of Panettone consumed per day? I can't answer the question. But I can tell you that 12 people consumed 12 pounds (5 kilos) of a humongous dried fruit loaf during our 12 day beach holiday.

Perhaps that is why we had to return to reality today lest "you are what you eat" (puffy) greets us in the bathroom mirror. Or perhaps to go back to earning paychecks to buy more Panettone for future holiday vacations? Whatever the reason, we are home. And, often times, the best part of traveling is opening your own front door again, slipping under your own (dry) sheets, and rehashing the vacation behind closed lids. It looked something like this....only it rained a lot more than you could ever imagine. (We still got sunburned.) And it was perfect.

Perfect.

Thank you P & V for your generosity.

Happy New Year - Feliz Ano Novo

Dear Georgia,

Tonight is New Year's Eve. And although you might not yet understand the significance of the holiday, I have been waiting to share this evening with my future daughter since I married your Daddy. Because, quite simply, the Brazilian celebration of New Years is magical--like no other "ringing in" I've experienced. It is steep in tradition and I've come to eagerly practice them all in this country that has so kindly welcomed me.

We shall start by dressing all in white (I hope you don't mind wearing the same dress as Mommy?) and wearing new undies (a fresh diaper will do). And shortly before midnight, after a lovely family meal of traditional foods, our bare feet will carry us and our lighted candles to the sea. Don't worry dear little one, we won't have trouble finding the shore because it will be lined with fire-lit torches, flickering light reflecting in the sea. Once there, we will stand together united and white under the moon--our bellies and our hearts full--remembering the prior year and contemplating the next. Soon the seconds will approach midnight: 10, 9. 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. It's time to sing out Happy New Year! Feliz Ano Novo! Don't be frightened by the noise. It's just champagne corks popping and fireworks jetting their way up into the inky sky. Embrace your neighbor and join in the song Adeus Ano Velho (Goodbye Old Year).

After you have hugged everyone (more than once), it is time to turn your attention to the sea. Toss some flowers to it's Goddess, Iemanjá. She will be so grateful. Jump seven waves whilst making seven wishes. Ask for whatever your little heart desires. Although I must tell you, I am having a hard time thinking of my wishes this year because I feel greedy to want for more, dear daughter. Because we are so blessed, this family of ours.

Love,
Mommy

Georgia, Felipe, and I wish you all a very Happy New Year/Feliz Ano Novo!

Day Trip

As tempting as it is to spend the day migrating from hammock to beach and swirling a caipirinha with your finger, I felt my New York friends were craving a bit of camera-around-the-neck tourism (and local shopping). So we headed out on a day trip to the port/colonial town of Paraty, with a pit-stop off the highway to buy some goods from local weavers.

It happened to be my longest day away from Georgia. I'd forgotten how focused one can get when shopping for handcrafts, how valuable girl time can be, and why you should only eat fish when you can dangle your big toe in the water.

Nice.

Wardrobe Dilemma

I think the only time in a female's life when she goes to the doctor's office and receives compliments about consistent weight gain is in infancy. Dimpled baby bottoms are charming--not bikini busters called cellulite. A pity that our little selves cannot yet understand this and celebrate with another cookie.

And when Georgia was a baby, I prayed for rolls and dimples and weight gain. I felt like I was always on pediatrician parole....gram after insignificant gram. I suppose my milk was of the skim (not cream) variety.

But we made it through. And now Georgia is on an incredible growth spurt. She is still a bit lean but she is long. And here is my bragging moment: She is 95th percentile on those nerve-wracking growth charts for height. So there, Mister MD!

However this presents another problem: her wardrobe. As of late, she looks like she is waiting for a flood. And Felipe is already nervous about the length of her skirts. So I am working on a couple of solutions.

1. A shopping spree at the most adorable stores for children in São Paulo:
Baby Basics
Ronaldo Fraga Filhotes
Petit Retro
Santa Paciência
Balangandâ

2. A quick trip to the USA to stock up on bargains.

3. Design a few pieces and hire a seamstress.

4. Find a way to get all three

I cannot warrant a shopping spree because everything (except services) in Brazil is extraordinarily expensive. So I'll settle for a piece or two. And since seamstress falls under the category of services, I had Suely come to my house on Friday. Ten hours and 170 reais US$ 100 later, Georgia has 6 smocks. (She also hemmed Felipe's pants and made two pillows.) Still not nearly as cheap as BabyGap (without the plane fare), but a fun project.

Plus my mom is coming next month. Her suitcase is big and the Internet is open 24 hours.

Somehow I always manage to get my way. I'm stubborn like that.

Holiday Weekend

Today was a national holiday in Brazil honoring Nossa Senhora do Aparecida or Our Lady of Aparecida. It also happens to be National Children's Day. It is easy to understand a holiday celebrating the pudgy little tots who grow up to look and act a lot like we do (for good and for bad). But who is Our Lady of Aparecida--aside from a saint who enables us to have a three day weekend frolicking at the beach?

Legend has it (and I am keeping it simple here), that three fisherman hired to catch fish for a banquet honoring the governor went several days without any bounty. Reaching Porto Itaguaçu, they dipped their nets into the sea and pulled up a headless (and dark brown/black) statue of Our Lady of the Conception (Aparecida). On second toss, they reeled in the head. All subsequent dips resulted in a plethora of fish for the humble trio (and a successful fish fry, no doubt). For the next fifteen years, the statue remained in possession of one of the fishermen, Filipe Pedroso. Countless visitors and answered prayers resulted in a cult following and a chapel--which grew into a Basilica in Aparecida, São Paulo, Brazil. It is now the second largest Catholic place of worship in the world (the parking lot holds 4,000 buses and 6,000 cars) celebrating the Queen of Brazil aka the Virgin aka Nossa Senhora do Aparecida.

God Bless Our Lady, Our Children, and a lovely holiday weekend.

Speaking of Brazil and Beaches

via Regina

Along with the 2016 Olympics, Brazil has many other things to celebrate. Like the works of internationally acclaimed architect Marcio Kogan. His recent ecologically correct beach house graces the cover of Casa Vogue this month. Located off the coast of colonial Paraty, the house can only be reached by boat.

But, heck, I'd swim there for a house tour.

The Beach Weekend

It was a tough journey to the beach. Six hours of traffic (three more than the usual trek). Complaining kids. Square bottoms. Antonio, the oldest in my new set of Spanish friends' brood, declared, upon arrival, that he was never going to our beach home again.

But he changed his mind the next day.

Because, well, everything was wonderful--in multiples.

Friendship
Wine
Jamon
Cultures (Spanish, American and Brazilian)
Kids

Kids. The weekend was really all about them. Of course, us adults ate, drank, and were (more than) merry. But what I thought might be a "grab me the birth control pills, honey" kind of weekend for us with, currently, one child and another newly-married pair was so not. There were four boys, (ages 2,4,6,8, as mentioned, the fruits of one brave Spanish couple) each of them so sweet and well behaved and, of course, Georgia (thrilled with the company). The air was seeping happiness. The deserted winter beach was alive with children's squeals, pealing laughter, goosebumps and mouthfuls of sand. In multiples and in matching outfits (minus Georgia).

Matching Outfits? It was like twins--times two. As explained by Spanish mom, the tradition in Spain is to dress your children identically--every day. At first I thought it was oddly amusing. But two change of clothes later, I couldn't deny the practicality. Think of packing for four boys. Imagine one outfit and multiply. See? Practical. Then I couldn't deny the charm. Envision four rugby and dungaree wearing little gentleman. But when they came out in swim trunks and flip flops. I died! Viva España! I am ready for multiples.

PS: My newly married friends (O and J), we are ready for your multiples, too.
PPS: My new friends (R and A), keep adding to the brood.
PPPS: Honey, and you?

Thank you all for a wonderful weekend. xo