First Night in Hostel was Fail

Yesterday at noon I packed up my things and went down to the sidewalk. Bela had gone to pick up Max, who had arrived from Buenes Aires, from the airport and come back to take me to the hostel. I had training at 2 p.m. and was too lazy to make anything to eat.

I got into the car and met Max, who speaks both English and Portuguese well in addition to his native Spanish...everyone does, and spoke some encouraging words that once I get a base level down it's going to snowball with the rest of the vocabulary. I hope so.

We arrive at the hostel and I check in. I had to go to the ATM because they have me pay up front and they don't take credit cards. R$10 in ATM fees again. So I get into the hostel room, with the lights off and someone sleeping. I go to a corner bed where there is just sheets and throw my bag under. The man wakes up, he's from Israel. Here touring South America. He leaves. I am now in a hurry, I leave and have to hop on the bus, get off at Peixoto and head on in. To teach us what it's like to learn, they brought in a teacher to give us a lesson in German. I had four years of German under my belt, and so this marks the first time in Brazil a foreign language (to me) was spoken that I felt comfortable and superior. Ja, das ist Deutschland und Deutschland is ein Land.

And so I walk home, saving myself the bus fare. Right in front of the hostel is a beautiful park with fountains, trees covered in Ivy and statues of men. Generally I stay away from these areas when it gets around this time, but, I saw little kids and families and I was like, I'm going to go see the fountain. As soon as I take the lead-in sidewalk to it's end, a woman comes up to me, a woman who from appearance I knew was not asking for directions. I start to walk away, a man comes up too. And then another man. As he is speaking loudly and in a seemingly intimidating manner, I checked to see in his flailing arms for any thing to bludgeon me.

I then looked at his pockets.

I then thought that if me Chase Daniel'd me, I'd have my lap top stolen. I looked around and the families seemed to not be there anymore, instead it was a swarm of hobos walking like neanderthals, and it was as if I'd been transformed into a b-level zombie movie. I walk faster.

The park seems much larger now, the trees and fountains look run down up close. But perhaps this perception shifts as you are getting swarmed and followed by dirty people screaming portuguese. What a novelty, Brazil!

Should I get punched, I may fall, but if not, surely my backpack has the weight to do some damage. But now, I was wondering whether to come out and say I don't speak Portuguese, or continue to act aloof, like, oh? I'm sorry I didn't see you, screaming man. So I took the mid-way route and started making signs with my hands as if I was deaf and this was sign language. No joke. I tersed my lips and angried my eyes and made the hand gestures like, please, I'm deaf, why are you hobos bothering me? This did nothing.

It's hard to communicate how big Michael Jackson is down here. 20 years from his height of relevance and 4 mos. removed from his death I still here his name every day. In movies such as Eurotrip and Almost Famous, the right song stops conflicts and brings harmony. My knees were shaking but my head was pretty clear, and I thought about singing Billy Jean in a deaf person's voice, and they would stop yelling and following and it would turn into one of those Indian Prison youtube dance montages. The absurdity of the situation, my first attempt to do anything local following in assault, seemed it would be cured by an equally absurd solution. But instead I just kept walking and made it to the hostel door.

Get in, Bela was to call me later for dinner. I hadn't eaten yet save a few crackers. I get wireless. I go back and all the lockers have locks on them. So I go back and get poorly communicated to about these lockers, thinking that my room key works on the locks, which is incredibly stupid. All the lockers were taken up. It's a holiday, and the room was full. So I'd be leaving my lap top and camera in an unlocked room. Not ideal. SO then I lay on the bed for a few hours thinking, this kind of sucks. And then everyone in the hostel gets back, all speaking portuguese, my Israeli buddy is not there. Apparently all the beds had been taken, now. So, since I was leaving, now it was 10, I was sure there would be no bed for me when I got back, no bed and an unlocked lap top. At this point I wasn't thrilled with my day, I was pretty pissed off. I was hungry. I was sick of portuguese. I was sick of hobos. And I was terrified that my first day away from the apt. would end up with all my shit stolen and a broken jaw.

I go to dinner. Mustang Sallys and the menu has English food titles but portuguese descriptions. Mari asked me if I wanted an English menu but I understood Jack Daniel's burger just fine. Halfway through the meal Bel and Mari sit down next to me and said "we have something to tell you" they say that Dani doesn't get back until Sunday, and I am gone until Monday, and that I can stay. At first, I didn't want to, but then, I did. They drop me off at the hostel, I grab my laptop bag, and the room smells hideous. I leave. I get in the car. I'm back in the apt.

And now I'm at the apt.

I would not survive Brazil without Ana's friends.