Day 1 in Brazil
So i’ll admit to being terribly negligent of this blog for the past few days. I suppose my problem is everything seems worth recording, but I certainly can’t stay locked up in my room working on my blog all day long. However, I’ve made a promise to myself to be much more disciplined about writing my blog so I’m going to try my best to post two every nights. I left off in the airport of my last blog, so I will pick up there.
After being greeted by Elisete, who would be one of my Portuguese teachers, Caio, who worked at the school I would be studying at, and Jessica, my host sister I was taken by the arm and guided away from the airport. Walking to the car I felt very at home with these people, as I looked around I observed the morning mist that hovered above the rain-soaked ground. It was cool, but not cold. I was told that, “today is English day” my only day where everyone would speak in English to me, but that tomorrow It would all be in Portuguese. The car ride was two hours long, I was tired, but I didn’t dare sleep, as I stared out the car window watching the beautiful scenery of Brazil unfold around me. We stopped at a convenience store and I tried my first cup of Brazilian coffee, It’s the equivalent of an espresso, and I welcomed the dark brown liquid’s smooth decent down my throat. Jessicia, my host sister (here everyone just calls her my sister) took me by the hand and we explored the racks of treats both Brazilian and American, and I tried my hand at the Portuguese names.
After we left the store, it was only a short trip to Americana. When we arrived my host mother came out to welcome us. I met the entire family, all except Jessica’s brother, whom I met the following morning, and we ate lunch together. My first meal consisted of rice and beans, tomatoes, lettuce, a kind of vegetable from the inside of a palm tree, bread, and cauliflower. It’s possible there was other foods as well, but that’s all I seem to remember. I spent the rest of the day getting settled into my new home. I was given my own room, and bathroom, and was told to think of their house as my home. “This is your home.” Jessica told me. “I’m your sister.” Fatima, calls me her daughter, and acts like an affectionate mother, always doting on me and trying to feed me. I’m so overwhelmed by the warmth and generosity of these people. I feel so blessed to be here. I can’t express how full my heart is. Even though I don’t speak the language, I feel like part of the family. I wish with all my heart I could repay the kindness they’ve shown me since my arrival, but I feel that perhaps there are some debts that can never be repaid.