Not understanding Portuguese is a pain in the ass.
I don't know what it is, whether it's that they speak fast here, or they're using a sick amount of contractions, or I just can't seem to figure out what anyone is saying to me, but unless people speak VERY slowly, I have no friggin' idea what anyone is saying.
It seems we're doing better figuring everything out. Trial and error is your friend.
The most complicated aspect to me seems to be the bus system. There are a ton of buses, and many of them go in the same general direction, but take different routes. Buses run frequently all day and night.
We tried to take a bus to see the "city of samba," a museum dedicated to samba. We asked the bus driver if the bus was going to the street on which it was located. He says yes. After about 1/2 hour, we ask the attendant if the "city of samba" was up ahead. He says yes, and tells us to get off. Turns out we were nowhere near it, and we had gone about 20 minutes past where it was.
We took a bus to Porcao, which is a well-known restaurant. I asked the bus attendant, and he had no idea. We got off too late, and had to walk along the water at night, beautiful but desolate. It must have been about 1/2 mile off.
We got on one bus and completely missed copacabana. Wound up in Leblon.
On a positive note, Justin figured out that the Cinelandia metro stop is just a couple of blocks from Lapa, our favorite neighbohood for nightlife.
And just when we thought we had it all figured out, we take the minivan that follows the general direction of the buses, and we get off way too early and wind up where the hookers and trannies hang out.
The most elusive to me is the cafeteria down the block. I went in to order a cafezinho and a donut. She gives it to me, and nicely informs me that the next time, I needed to get a ticket and pay first. Was I supposed to get a ticket from her, pay the cashier, then go back to her with the receipt? I still really have no clue.
I've come to the conclusion that much like New Yorkers, people in Rio are really happy to give their opinions on the matter, even if they have no idea what the hell they are talking about.
Also, I should use the phrase "slower, please" (mais devagar) a hell of a lot more often.
Justin and I went to Lapa last night (again... we love it there) to hear some music and have a mellow night out.
Lapa, on a Friday night, is insane. There's no other way to put it. Right under the Arcos de Lapa (the aqueduct) there is a street party. It's very casual, just hordes of people getting drunk and hanging out. There's food stalls and one beverage cart after the next. It's a meat market, and three tries tried to grab or talk to me, even though I was holding Justin's hand. There's a park full of drunk people, bar after bar, lots of music venues.
But this was Saturday, and with the line to the Scenarium, a gorgeous multi-level restaurant and club, about 200 people long, we wound up at Hotel Livradio, a little restaurant with a guitarist and drummer playing samba.
We order a pizza, and he asks me if I want it cut (I think) and it arrives cut into teeny bite-size squares. Really wouldn't have figured that one out.
It must have been near the end of their night when we arrived, because soon after he started taking requests. All american songs, starting off with, of course, Michael Jackson. He doens't know the words, so he's laughing, and I'm mumbling some of them, Justin and I cracking up. This blonde woman, sitting at the front, starts pointing and yelling at me "she knows!! go!" gesturing for me to sing. Hell no.
This goes on for a while, the guy trying to sing american songs, her turning around at me, us laughing (partly due to a combination of whisky and cachaca) and now the guy is totally pointing at us and teasing us, because he knows we don't understand anything he's saying (except when he said "and now, they're saying 'fuck you, man!!'". This I understood.)
So, he's done, and he walks over to try to sell us a CD, and Justin says one of the 10 complete sentences he's picked up in his short week and a half here.
"Eu toco a violao."
The guy drags Justin by the hand to the stage, puts a mike in his face, and demands he plays AND sings.
Justin protests a bit, plays one of the few songs he knows the words to, and then plays three bossa nova standards. Beautifully. Everyone in the place is turning to me and saying "He plays bossa?!?!"
I've guess I've also figured out that if you say "I play the guitar" to someone with a guitar in your hand, you'd damn well better expect to play that thing.
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