8 or 80

The longer I’m here, the quicker time passes. I’ve barely got three weeks till my departure! Now, just to make things clear, this blog is not going to be abandoned; I will continue writing about my Brazilian adventures and experiences after my return to London. And hopefully you will continue to follow me ;)

Now what was it that I wanted to tell you? Was it that São Paulo is much less Brazilian and much more English than I’d thought? OK, only in one area: the weather. I was convinced that gloomy grey sky was a feature typical only of Britain. But if you think that glaring sun welcomed me here, think again. For most of the time whenever I looked out the window in our flat in the centre, apart from really ugly dilapidating buildings that probably remember the city’s more glorious past, I saw a seamless silvery screen blocking any attempts of the sun to illuminate the metropolitan reality. And that was on a lucky day. At other times it felt as if the sky had been torn apart and just burst into a weeping fit that went on for hours. Little did I know that São Paulo used to be called “Terra da garoa” or “a land of drizzle”. That was before they poured concrete over the numerous canals and small rivers that had run through the city, messing with its climate, but not ridding it of the rainy inclinations.

I remember one Sunday, somewhere in December, when the weather let go. Beautiful sunshine shone through the thin clouds making the world smile. We headed for the swimming pool in the hope of passing a relaxing afternoon. I got so excited I immediately found a deck chair, arranged my towel on it and took great care that my 50 UV sunscreen (for kids) covered every bit of my bare skin. I didn’t want to repeat the bad experiences from a Rio beach last year when filter 30 proved not enough and left me sore for a week. Still remembering the cool air of London, the idea of sunbathing in the summer heat of São Paulo really tickled my buds. I lay down, closed my eyes and... felt the first drop on my stomach. Dazzled, I looked up and this is what I saw:

Within minutes it was pouring down with rain. And didn’t stop for days on end. They said it is the coolest summer that this city has seen in years. Unconsoled by this, I started praying for some heat. After all, what was the point of crossing the damn ocean if I was to experience the same shitty weather?! Well, all I can say is be careful what you ask for, you might just get it. Because when, after weeks of cold gloom, the sun suddenly hit, it was relentless. I didn’t dare leave the house without sunscreen on, even to go to the supermarket. I tossed and turned at night, unable to sleep in the stuffy room. Opening the window was not much of a relief as outside it was almost just as hot as inside. Three sleepless nights made me scrape my pockets to buy a ventilator. Three delightful ones later, I was again hiding under a duvet for fear of catching a cold. This is what São Paulo weather is like, either 8 or 80.*

* to be 8 or 80 – an expression in Brazilian Portuguese (oito ou oitenta) meaning that something/someone is between two extremes, without middle ground