Stranded at Third

As I lie in my bed, slightly intoxicated after a day of piña coladas, beer, and hamburgers with the crew of Far, Far Away, and vibing to some good American folk music ("Janglin" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros -- I strongly suggest a five minute break from your day to listen), I have a chance to sit and reflect, holistically, on my experience this summer. I am heading into week 11 of 12, and the 73 days I have spent here have provided me with much to reflect upon. I have met unique people, seen unique sites, eaten unique foods, and experienced unique experiences. I have learned basic rules to running a company as well as mistakes to avoid, I have learned a new language and about a new culture, I have learned about relationships and friendships, I have learned about trust and abusing trust and, most importantly, I have learned about myself. I realize that it is somewhat conceited to write about myself, but this is a blog, and isn't that the point? A random aside: The other day I was thinking about it, and aren't blogs, Twitter, Facebook, etc. just the socially-acceptable forms of egomania that today's society thrives on?  Yet, as I near 2,000 pageviews, it is clear that people do indeed want to read about my summer... And being over 4,000 miles away from home, that is a comforting, albeit narcissistic, thought -- coincidentally, iTunes has now moved on to "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. So I write...

Marcio, showing off his sense of
style, wearing Naiara's shades.

I frequently question my decision to come here this summer. I had a better-paying, and more relevant, alternative internship set up back in Michigan. However, I turned that down for, what I figured would be, an experience of a lifetime. Luckily, I got what I was hoping for -- for better or worse, this experience has certainly been once-in-a-lifetime. I have met so many interesting people, some I hope to someday see again, and some I hope to quickly forget. I am grateful that one of my roommates/workmates/lifemates (we are essentially living together), David Rood (author of this wonderful blog), will be coming back to the University of Michigan next year to study law, and I hope that we will continue our friendship. My boss, Marcio Ruiz Maya, is another individual that I hope I am able to stay in contact with after my time here ends. Marcio is likely the sole reason I survived my foreign internship at INACE. His sense of humor and compassion make him very easy to get along with, and his unique and quirky personality will be missed. The majority of my Portuguese knowledge comes from his teachings (I have reciprocated by helping him in his English courses), and we have learned a lot about each others' cultures from one-another. An example of his sense of humor is as follows:

Marcio, pointing out some
piping on board our ship.

Last fall, Marcio visited Philadelphia for a conference. It was his first and, thus far, only visit to the U.S. He frequently tells me that during his time in Philadelphia, he never witnessed a "white person" working. According to his observations, "only blacks, Mexicans, and Arabs work in America", and he repeatedly reminds me of this. One day last week, he observed me listening to music while working, and told me that I was a "matador" -- or (directly translated) "slayer". He oftentimes pokes fun at company workers, telling them that they "matar tempo" -- "kill time" -- and thus are "matadors". Later that day, he asked me where I was from, as he never can remember. I reminded him that I am from Madison, Wisconsin. He looked it up on Google Images, and, not surprisingly, found many images of last year's Scott Walker protests. He told me, "I see that everyone where you are from is a 'matador', I understand now. I told you that white people don't work in America! And now, I see that it is not your fault that you are a matador." As I explained to him that the protests revolved around Gov. Scott Walker (keep in mind that, here, people cannot pronounce the hard "t" sound, and pronounce it as a "tch" -- ie. Matt = Match), he quickly pointed out, "No wonder everyone is a 'matador' in Wisconsin. Who would want to work for "Scotch" Walker, cousin of Johnnie Walker? He must always be drunk..."

While this example can likely only be fully appreciated in person and after having worked for two-plus months with Marcio, I still felt that it was a fun example of his sense of humor.

Being 4,000+ miles away from friends and family for an extended period of time, especially at an internship that I have not particularly enjoyed, has been a struggle. It has lent me much time to think about how much I miss my friends, my brother, my sister, and my parents (as well as the rest of my family in Wisconsin and in the U.S.). I have had plenty of time to think about my goals in life, about what is really important to me, about what I value most in my friends, and about what unnecessary frills I can (and should) consider trimming. For me, as a student at an out-of-state university, the summer is a cherished time of year, when I am able to reconnect with high-school and childhood friends, and spend time with my family, who I do not often get to see during the school year. While I am sad that I have not been able to use this summer to do these things, I do not regret my decision to take this internship. After all, there will be more summers, and this was a "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity. I will still have plenty of time to spend with my family. There will be more backpacking trips and roadtrips with my friends. I will have more opportunities to go golfing with my cousin and grandma. However, I do not think that I would ever have the opportunity to spend a summer working in Brazil again.

By the way, I battled my way out of the pickle and slid safely into third. Unfortunately, the next batter popped out, and I was stranded there. Just goes to show that sometimes you can't rely on your teammates to help you out. Gain the extra muscle and hit the home run next time. Luckily for me, I will be advancing home within the next couple weeks, anyways.

Stuck in a Pickle Between Second and Third

Sorry about the gap in the blog everyone! It’s been a busy past month. But due to multiple requests, I will do my best to keep it up-to-date for the rest of the summer.

I’m not sure if it is because of the current MLB All-Star break, or because we taught our friend how to play the American baseball-like game "pickle" at the beach the other week, or if it’s simply a symptom of withdrawal from watching baseball and the American culture as a whole, but recently I have been thinking about our 12-week Brazilian stint in terms of a baseball analogy. I began my time here stumbling out of the batter’s box (obviously after blasting a fastball into the 420’ Fenway Park center field “Bermuda Triangle”), trying to learn the ins and outs of the Brazilian culture, my way around Fortaleza, and the Portuguese language. By halfway through week number four (my last blog post), I was rounding first and heading to second, thinking triple. I was all systems go, adrenaline pumping, trying new things and visiting new places. The language began to come more naturally, I was learning slang and conversational bits, and I am now actually able to carry conversations and make friends with people who, a month ago, I couldn’t speak more than a couple of sentences with. As I prepared to round second two weeks ago, I glanced at the third base coach, who was waving me around to third. I looked forward to arriving safely at third. I knew more excitement was ahead of me during the next 90 feet: beautiful beaches such as Canoa Quebrada and Jericoacoara, a Ceará futebol game at Estádio Presidente Vargas, and a 4^th of July celebration -- Brazilian style. However, all this thinking ahead made me lose focus and I tripped over second base as I was rounding. I regained balance, but now, heading into week eight, I find myself caught in a pickle halfway between second and third. I am still enjoying my summer here, but due to some events back home, as well as just being away from home for an extended period of time and the knowledge that I will only be home for a few days when I get back before departing for Ann Arbor, I have found myself a bit homesick. Furthermore, last weekend and into early last week, I had some sort of bug that gave me a fever and kept me from doing much (Quela and Megan, if you’re reading this, you knew this part was coming). Anyways, as I attempt to advance to third base, I will summarize my past four weeks for you…

Churrascaria Gheller – A churrascaria is a Brazilian rodízio style steakhouse, at which one pays a fixed price for entry, and in turn receives access to an all-you-can-eat salad bar and assortment of meats. We left stuffed and thirsty -- water at restaurants in Brazil is not free (everyone drinks bottled water because the pipes are “bad”) and the majority of the meats were heavily salted.

Viagra Day and Açaí – Not what it sounds. Praia do Futuro has become our local beach of choice, and learning to surf our activity of choice. Ben and I deemed our third such trip “Viagra Day”, as we were going to “get up” and catch a wave on our surfboards, regardless of what it took. We both proved successful, each catching multiple of the monstrous ten-or-so foot waves that crashed down on us. After tiring ourselves out at the beach, we like to recharge with Açaí -- a smoothie made of blended acai berries and banana, topped with granola and chocolate.

Hanging out at Naiara's apartment.

Naiara’s Apartment and Real Lanches – We have become regulars at a cheap, local restaurant called Real Lanches (“Real Snacks”). It’s a small restaurant that serves a variety of styles of hamburgers. While they don’t stack up to the Nitty Gritty or Blimpy Burger, they are as close to American food as we can find in Fortaleza, and we have enjoyed them on multiple occasions (including the 4^th of July, or “Liberation Day” as David called it -- he attempted to “liberate” Brazil by telling everyone that they were now American and that they were liberated and free to do as they chose, but he found a bit of resistance). Real Lanches is only a block or two from Naiara’s apartment, so we always go there and hang out and watch a movie afterward (Naiara and her sister, Virginia, both speak fluent English, so we are able to enjoy movies in English). Last time we were there, David and I made guacamole and introduced it to them.

A view down Yury's street.

Traditional forró attire.

Yury’s House and Forró Competition – Over the past month we have also visited Yury’s house a few times. It is interesting to see what a Brazilian city’s “suburban” neighborhood looks like. I enjoy the familial feel that accompanies the neighborhood, as most of the neighbors seem to know each other, and everyone hangs out in their front-porch area. This feel reminded me a little bit of San Cristobál, the neighborhood I lived in when I was in Panama four years ago. One night while we were at Yury’s house, there was a local Forró competition. It was very interesting to see the entire neighborhood come together in its center for a festival and watch the competition.

The crew at Boteco Praia.

An intro to Jäger.

Bars and Clubs – We have visited various bars and clubs over the past month. Boteco Praia (“Beach Pub”) is a nice bar/restaurant along Beira Mar. We had a fun time going there with Felipe and meeting some friends of his. Also with Felipe, we went to Fahir, a bar/club, where we heard a Red Hot Chili Peppers cover band perform. While they were far from the actual RHCP, it was nice to hear some classic American music. I went with Naiara and some of her friends to a friend’s graduation party at Barril 85 (“Keg 85”) where I introduced her to Jäger. Interestingly, Jäger is not found in most bars here. In fact, it is only found (legally) in Orbita Bar, which I spoke about in a previous post. I am not sure why it is so restricted here, but I found this interesting.

Ceará Futebol – A couple of weekends ago, we went with Felipe to Estádio Presidente Vargas to take in a professional Brazilian soccer match. Despite having a capacity one-fifth of that of the Big House, the atmosphere rivaled that of (and maybe even surpassed) any American stadium that I have ever been to. Ceará pulled off a 1-0 upset in an exciting fashion that featured a first-half goal, and a last minute penalty kick save by Ceará’s goalie, who is said to be one of Brazil’s finest.

Canoa Quebrada – Last weekend we went to a beach town a couple of hours away called Canoa Quebrada (“Broken Canoe”). We spent the day relaxing, swimming, and exploring the interesting red sandstone formations that lined the beach. It was a refreshing, and much needed, escape from the concrete of Fortaleza.

Work – Lately, I have been working on the tubulação (“piping”) for a 7,200 horsepower, 350 ton, 50 meter Fast Supply Vessel. There are 20 or so different piping systems, and I am verifying what has already been completed, and working on a report to summarize what must still be purchased and completed. It is very interesting to see how all of the systems interact, and I enjoy watching as the boat comes together (this particular boat is fairly close to completion).

 

Anyhow, that more or less summarizes my trip from first base to where I am right now. I assume that I will make it out of this pickle and on to third base soon. But until then, tchau! Don't forget, you can see all of my pictures here!