Running out the clock

I hit my last week in Curitiba. I quit my job on Friday. I take a bus this weekend or next monday for Indaiatuba, Ana's mothers.

Many times when I've quit a job, those last days you feel like, "hey this place isn't so bad. I'm gonna miss x and x"

And this is sort of happening. It's also not. I'm really anxious to go home, also really anxious to leave for Indaiatuba. But there is a lot here I'm going to miss. Some alunos and my friends. I will really, really miss Bel, Bela, Mari and Dani.

Last night, I went to a BBQ for Melina's bday. It was great. Per typical, the first hour is me just kind of sitting, looking at the food. But the more alcohol, the more conversations happen. And the food. Vinaigrete stuffed into french bread rolls. So much meat, cooked perfectly, and cut into little strips so you have no idea how much you ate, but really i probably took down like 2 steaks on the realz. And add sausages coated in faraffa. I was really happy to have a churrasco before I left - and it's process is wonderful. Contrary to an american bbq where you will eat 2 burgers and a hot dog all at once, I really enjoy the process of eating a little bit at a time over the process of hours - the food constantly bringing people together.

And sitting around the hookah, as people talk to me about my last week. Almost universally, people were so understanding of my trouble learning the language, and so patient as I try and patch together my words (which looks and sounds painful, they come out in different volumes and tones, and are nearly always mispronounced).

I want to come back, get a proper carnaval, see all that I did not. There's so much more to see than Curitiba, and with the way everyone talks shit on the people of Curitiba I have to imagine it'll be a much different experience.

And finally as a really strange cap to the night, I had the longest conversation with a 7 year old precocious little girl. With her father working in England, she spoke perfect english, like no accent - actually, a British accent. And we talked about disney land, and the funny thing, with the british accent you feel a little bit intellectually inferior until she mentions being "pARtickkkulahhhly scared by big thundah mountin". Then you realize, pssh, that rollercoaster is weak sauce.

Sup dudes.