Last day of sunshine before 6 days of rainnnnnn...

On Saturday night I went to a prom at El Rancho...

But before that, during the day, I started crunching numbers. And I realized that I was going to be living a pauper's existence. There's the odd chance I could be a dead ringer for a prince and I would throw him out into the street as I took his throne, but for the most part, I'm getting used to a meal a day. The free breakfast. Gettin swoll, it happens.

The reality of a budget made my chest get tighter and my head hurt. Everything so far had gone according to plan, and then the crucial misstep of assuming I could afford it easily wasn't a smart one.

So I went out drinking.

Sitting at the Cafe Democrata with a Brahma cerveja in a chilled glass, I watched the reaction of Maxi, Bela's Argentinian boyfriend, as Argentina played Peru in the crucial World Cup Qualifier for them. My back was to the closest TV and I squinted to catch the action at the opposing end of the bar. Bela's Argentinian Spanish teacher showed up shortly thereafter, and a Colombian girl with him. It was a UN summit. They spoke in Spanish, occasionally stopping and asking if I got any of that and chose some of the words I knew to imply comprehension, meanwhile Max would grab his hair and throw his head forward screaming words I can only assume were not meant for children's ears. I did what I knew how to do, occasionally motion to the waiter to bring another one.

My spirits were improved after eating some food for the first meal of the day. Argentina went up 1-0 to the chagrin of the Brazilians at the bar, and to the delight of Maxi. I drank and watched and listened. And in the 88th minute, Peru scored sending cheers throughout the bar from antagonistic Brazilians and merciful jeers from Maxi, I assume.

And then, in the 92nd minute, a long distance kick from an Argentinian giving-it-a-go created a rebound and an open net. Max stood up and started screaming and pumping his fists, and then tore his shirt off and was probably saying something like "That's how we do it in Argentina! We are awesome! Go team!" And I was rooting for the Republic of Argentine so I put my fist in the air and let out an "Aw" but luckily no one was paying attention.

We moved downstairs and I followed the conversation much better as they were talking about how people say different words in Colombia, Argentina and Brazil. I was going to interject "in some states people say 'Pop' while others say 'Soda', but in the south, those people say 'Coke' for everything! Loco!" but I motioned to the tab and was quickly served another Brahma. This time Brahma black, which looks like a stout, acts like a stout, but brother, it ain't a stout. (Probably a black ale).

In the end my tab was very expensive.

But so towards the end before we paid, they said "do you want to go to a Latin party?" and I'm like, "yes".

So we walk into this doorway and there are christmas lights wrapped around the rafters, the walls are painted yellow, and the doors are archways, some jaundice-stricken women are painted on the walls, and the dance floor is surrounded by some tables. In the distance was a stage, which was just nearly finished up by the band featuring an old man in a fedora tickling the ivory, and he looked awesome. Then three microphones for horn/guitar players and the drummer and bassists tucked in the back. The occasional dude with the stick and the ...tubes he hits together. They were preparing their set that would feature enough pelvic thrusts to turn the toilet water clockwise.

I went to the bar and successfully ordered. I watched the dance floor as the many people filled in to dance to the live music. At it's best, Brazilians dancing is as fluid as the ocean's waves, and at it's worst it's something out of the '96 Republican Convention. So no matter, it's a hell of a show. I was preparing to do my dance called "Stand and Observe" which has a song to it that goes "STAND and OB se-e-RVE, STAND and OB se-e-rve." But as my body digested the alcohol it was only a matter of time before I showed Brazil what the show "So you think you can dance!" was all about.

And I did. "You don't need to be polite," I asked Colombian Maria, "How was my dancing." "You need to practice." And we did. And I could enjoy it, I see the attraction to these learned partner dances, but while dancing I'm concentrating so hard that as soon as she gets out of the routine to do that fun SPINNING I lose everything. I don't so much have two left feet as two stubs, and shopping cart wheels for hips.

I was very happy, though, and my thoughts from the day were erased, it would just take a little bit of effort to reduce the overhead costs, and I'd be doin' fine.

I'm not sure when we got back but I woke up at 1 p.m. the next day, napped again, went to the hostel to change, went to mcdonalds, came back. Then Bela said we were going to her Spanish teacher's house for some homemade pizza. I went there and spoke to a girl from NE Brazil from the night before, became friendly with another Argentinian...

ahh yes...on the way over Max referred to himself as Argentinian. I said "I'm glad you said that because my friends were always confused whether to say Argentine or Argentinian!" He responded " We are the Republic of Argentine, the country is Argentina, and I am Argentinian. End of debate."

And so the pizza's were great. Homemade crust, and slices of Mozzarella melted over sliced tomatoes, some pizzas with ham, some with onions, some with Arugula, all delicious. I ate my fill. I came back and went to sleep.

So, Monday was a holiday in Brazil celebrating some saint. I went back to the hostel at 3. I met the only other person now in the room with me, we never got each others' names, but he was from Maranau, pretty much in the rainforest, but a pretty well-known town. We made plans that night but I slept through them, when I woke up he had left. One of the few beautiful nights in Curitiba, we sat on the bench and chatted. A girl from California walked up. She went to school in São Paolo, and had taken a trip to Blumenau for Oktoberfest, a town in the south of Brazil with many German descendants.

I envied her Portuguese and her travels. She'd traveled all over. I'd done not nearly enough, but I was being shockingly responsible in my savings. "Well-behaved women rarely change history" I said to myself.