Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Réveillon Heaven
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Natal Natal Natal
It amazes me how certain Christmas traditions are assimilated into Brazil. The bundled-up bearded man. The reindeer. The sleigh bells. The snowmen. December is the start of summer in Brazil. I remember laying on a beach in 100 degree heat drinking a coconut in December. In Southern California, people say that there isn't that Christmas feel. Well go to Rio next Christmas. That shit'll make LA feel like the North Pole. Plus, with the exception of a state or two in the south, it doesn't even SNOW in Brazil! If you ask me, it's time for them to come up with their own Christmas imagery.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Apartment Search Begins
Rio de Janeiro isn’t unlike Los Angeles.
Each city's got its dualism.
LA has the Eastside and the Westside while Rio’s got Zona Norte and Zona Sul. The south zone boasts the tourist-filled beach communities of Copacabana and Ipanema, reminiscent of the Santa Monica/Marina del Rey scene. On the other side of town, the middle class, endless and invisible at the same time, dwells in the north zone—the humble, working-class side of life. Before I pick a place to rest my head, I gotta choose a Zona.
Walk up the Escada de Azulejos da Lapa (Tiled Stairs of Lapa) and you’ll find yourself passing the art galleries and coffee shops of Santa Teresa. With a view of both Zonas, Santa Teresa somehow manages to resemble neither. It proudly claims Rio’s bohemian quarter. The countless dreadlocks along Rua Almirante Alexandrino make me feel like I’m in Venice Beach. But once that sun sets you’d better have a good game plan. Things can get a bit sketchy.
Then there’s Niterói—the municipality across the bay. I’ve met some cool peeps from here. Though inconveniently located, Niterói seems to be a smidge more comfortable and spacious than the city proper. I’ve never actually been, but it seems a bit South Bayish. You know the whitewashed, culture-void masses of Redondo and Manhattan Beach? Sure I partake in the occasional surf session at Porto and happy hour beer at Sharkeez, but if I’m going somewhere to live, I need to be in the mix.
The first phase of my apartment search consists of scouring Rio’s version of craigslist—www.easyquarto.com.br
If my Poor-tuguese doesn’t make things hard enough, the record high Rio-estate will.
http://riotimesonline.com/brazil-news/rio-real-estate/rio-rental-market-up-for-high-season/
I guess it’s just gonna come down to some good old fashion luck—for which I’m due after the last Vegas trip.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Two Months Notice
As the first decade of the millennium comes to a close, I’ve made the decision to gather up all of what’s left of my youth and head once more into the ever intoxicating city of Rio de Janeiro. Consider this my two-month notice. February 8th marks my departure from LA’s frazzled freeways into the dead mouse ridden streets of Rio. Alone I will attempt to make a living among the cachaça-guzzling, samba-swaying Cariocas. Am I running away from reality? You can say that. You can say a lot of things, Mr. Question-Asker. My reality is that I have some unfinished business with that town. She and I split up two years ago under some complicated circumstances and I’m willing to give it another shot. I just hope she welcomes me with as open arms as O Cristo Redentor.
Friends have asked me why it’s so easy for me to just pick up and leave. My response: It isn’t. It’s never EASY to leave something after you’ve invested so much of yourself into it. In truth, the older I get, the more difficult it is to leave. LA has grown on me. It has grown on my like a cancerous tumor. I don’t think I’ve ever owned so many nice things in my life. I mean look at my bed. Just look at it! You think it’s easy to leave that thing? How many pillows do I have? Five? Five pillows. I have five pillows! I’m not sure if I even had a pillow last time I was in Rio. Half the time I woke up in the middle of the night on the ground because the horizontal boards weren’t actually attached to the bed frame and they separated beneath me. This is surely not easy. I do however, take comfort in the fact that it only gets harder with age. Two years from now, who knows? Maybe I won’t want to sacrifice my five pillows. Maybe I’ll want to get serious with that cool chick I’ll have been hanging out with. Maybe I’ll commit to a career. All I know is that, as of right now, I can give this a real shot. I can live in Rio for a year by myself. I mean, after all…it’s only life.