Is it the size that matters?

Think about Rio de Janeiro. What is the first image that comes to your mind, even if you've never been there? And I mean image, not your late-night fantasies.

Copacabana and its snaky black and white cobbled pavement?

Sipping cold coconut water on the hot sand?

Golden bodies in Brazilian bikinis?

Carnival parade?

Hopefully some of you did think of Christ the Redeemer with his outstretched arms, overlooking Guanabara Bay. Whether you are religious or not, there’s no point denying that this statue is one of the most commonly recognised landmarks of Brazil (and Rio de Janeiro in particular) and due to its impressive size (between 30 m /98.5 ft and 39m – there is contrasting info) has often been envied.

I was surprised to find out that in my motherland, Poland, a similar construction was raised in 2010 in a tiny winy towny of Świebodzin. I think the intention was to make it even bigger than the one in Rio. Was it to show the magnitude of Polish religiousness or ego, I wonder. So, our Polish Christ the King is 33 metres tall, to mark the age at Jesus’ death, apparently, and together with the mound on which it is built it reaches 52.5 metres. One way or another, it’s taller than the Rio statue. In your face, Rio!

Source: http://www.giganticstatues.com/christ-the-king-statue/

 Ok, perhaps this take is a bit unfortunate, let’s try again...

Source: http://www.skyscrapercity.com/showthread.php?p=67552699

Erm... the view doesn't seem quite right...

But what do I see? Another Jesus? In Cochabamba, Bolivia. No way Jose, only 40 metres, including the pedestal. What a joke. 

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cristo_de_la_Concordia_02.jpg

The priest of Świebodzin must have been sad to learn that it stands competition also from Lima, Peru, where Cristo del Pacífico was kindly left by the president to look after the Peruvian nation. 30 metres. No chance.

Source: http://ayaviri.info/2011/06/presidente-alan-garcia-inaugura-cristo-del-pacifico/

Early this year, news spread that a replica of Cristo Redentor might appear on the skyline of... Wait for it, wait for it! London. Primrose Hill to be precise. With the permission (and financial contribution) of the Brazilian government, the monument would mark the moment London passes the Olympic torch over to Rio. Metaphorically, of course. Primrose Hill may not be Corcovado, but perhaps it’s worth a go.  From a mass of comments under the article in the Guardian on the matter, I picked the following few: 

"how about a 6 inch marquette of Borris the irredeemable instead"

"The Olympics are surely a secular celebration of physical excellence? If you MUST align it to a fictional deity, surely Zeus would be far more appropriate in this instance?"

"Can we have Gisele instead?"

Hilarious.

They’re all forgetting one thing. You may have the tallest Jesus on this planet, but what really counts is the view! 

Source:http://www.lovethesepics.com/2011/04/christ-the-redeemer-statue-1-of-7-new-wonders-of-the-world-45-inspiring-pics/

The truth about the Internet

I have a confession to make. I have been checking the blog statistics. Religiously. Well, for one, it doesn’t hurt to know who’s reading your blog and where most of the traffic source comes from. Understandably, my audience is mainly from the UK, Poland and Brazil, as I’ve got friends and family in all three of them. Thanks to a fellow blogger link, I’ve gained relative popularity in the US, which now tops the list. Two, by finding out which post are most read I get valuable insight. Or so I thought.

Obviously you can stumble across my blog just by typing in google (or some other browser) key words which I happened to include.  Hence, I wasn’t surprised that suddenly people read me in, say, Germany, Russia, India or Canada. Normal. After all, the blog is entirely searchable. But then suddenly Kuwait, Ghana, Saudi Arabia. Wow, I’m getting popular around the world, I thought naively. And don’t get me wrong, I’d be more than happy to know that residents of those and other countries have an interest in Brazil and my Brazilian adventures. You’re welcome, guys!

But somehow I failed to notice, until last night, that I can actually check by which  searchwords my blog is usually found. So here we go: “carnival 2012 boobs”, ”breasts samba”, ”sexy carnaval 2012”… True, I did write about boobs at the sambadrome (and that post is the most popular indeed), but how come typing in “miss bumbum” redirects to The Brazilian Dream??

It dawned on me. Most Internet users are interested in Brazil not as a country, but as a land of big bums and boobs, hot bodies, Brazilian bikini and ass-shaking. How sad. I think I need to drown my sorrows in a caipirinha. And in a few days’ time I’ll check if this post got the most visits. C’mon, it’s bound to. 

Heaven and... earth

One of the other good memories from Brazil, and specifically from São Paulo, is a music show my BF took me to in December 2011. I'm not a particularly big fan of instrumental music, but having seen this one, and been exposed to tons of Yamandu Costa and Raphael Rabello (because of my guitarist BF), I might be considered a convert in this respect. 

The star of the night, though quite a modest one, was Swami Junior, a guitarist, bassist, arranger, composer and producer. Apparently, he is now one of the most sought after Brazilian musicians! On December 12, when he performed at SESC Consolação, his band was formed of the following members: Swami Jr. (7-string guitar), Alexandre Ribeiro (clarinet), Douglas Alonso (percussion), with Chico Pinheiro (guitar) and Marco Pereira (guitar) as guest musicians.

When they started playing, I felt like in a dream, being transported somewhere to cloud 9 with the wonderful arrangements. I’ve got this particular, physical reaction when I experience something truly magic that tickles my musical taste; I get goose bumps. So that night, it must have looked as if I was cold, but I was simply wrapped by the veal of exquisitely delicate, yet precisely placed sounds. At times though, I was brutally brought down to earth by a neighbour from hell.

This guy in his late 50s, sat next to me, stretched his legs onto a seat in front of him as if he was about to watch a football match and… would not stop tossing and turning, visibly still uncomfortable. I tried not to pay attention to him so as not to lose touch with the heavenly music. Suddenly, the man got up, walked along the back wall (looking for the exit?), a bunch of keys ringing unmercifully by his side. I winced once or twice, but was determined to enjoy the show. He came back to his seat. And started teeth-kissing. Not in a disapproving way, rather as a means to remove hell knows what from his gurgling throat. At times like these I wish I had a gun. He was obviously enjoying himself though as he would shout an out-of-place “Bravo!” each time a track finished. The last straw was when his mobile phone rang (of course!), luckily for him - in a pause between songs, at which sign he left the hall. Luckily for him.

I was able to enjoy the rest of the concert, undistracted and, frankly, I had never heard a better quality sound at any show in Europe. I must admit, and will probably reiterate in the future, that São Paulo’s music scene is truly impressive. And so are its music venues. 

So here, a fragment of this exact show, in a neighbour-from-hell-free version, especially for you. (filmed by sesctv) Sound by Rafael Valim. 

Stay tuned! 

Reality bites

Why didn’t anyone warn me that coming back after nearly four months in Brazil is so... bad? The first day in London was a nightmare. I was tired, confused (language, driving on the left, bland food), irritated, I felt cold and spaced out, and to top it all, I argued with my flatmates. I miss the heat, I miss the samba, the cold beer, the delicate raw tuna melting in my mouth at the Japanese restaurant, the properly salty dishes (have the English given up on salt altoghether?!), I miss requeijão*, and, of course, I miss my boyfriend. Yes, saudade, jet lag, holidays coming to an end, mixed with a heavy dose of reality which I’m going to have to face from now on is a hard one to swallow. Obviously, there are things I’m NOT going to miss; the absurd traffic, the expensive and unreliable transport, the littered streets in the less glamorous areas of São Paulo, but, all in all, positive memories prevail.

So, para matar a saudade**, I’m going to indulge in re-living the best moments of my trip. And what’s better than trying great food? I remember I never mentioned the famous feijoada (from feijão – beans). The origin of the dish goes back to slavery times; hard-working slaves needed a substantial, nutritious meal to endure their daily grind. African cuisine included a bean stew, which on Brazilian ground acquired some meat ingredients. I suppose meat is an understatement. In truth, the masters relished the best parts of pork and whatever was left of the pig they gave to the slaves. Thus, the original feijoada had ears, tails and noses floating around among the beans. It would have been considered the meal of the poor, but today it can be found in the fanciest restaurants all over Brazil. Being a heavy dish, it is usually served only twice a week, on Wednesdays and Saturdays, although you’ll easily find places where feijoada is available non-stop. In cheaper venues, everything comes in one pot; the bean stew, chunks of pork meat, pork ribs, sausage, carne seca (dry beef) or corned beef, bacon and the chef’s other secrets. More luxurious ones will usually have a feijoada special, meaning that you pay a certain amount (the most expensive I’ve eaten was R$50, which is slightly less than £20) and you eat as much as you want choosing the ingredients. There is a pot with the beans (in a nicely flavoured brine), followed by pots bursting with all the sumptuous meats separately! To complete the dish, you also will have to help yourself to the following:

-        -  rice (obviously!)

-        -  couve (collard greens)

-         - farofa (lightly roasted coarse cassava flour, often with bits of bacon in it)

-         - torresmo (deep-friend pork rinds)

-         - hot pepper sauce (to spice things up!)

-         - a salad of finely chopped tomatoes and onion

-         - a slice of orange (to refresh)

and if available:

-         - deep-fried cassava

-         - deep-fried banana

Feijoada definitely tickles my buds, so I tried it on a few occasions, but the best one was when my boyfriend took me to Armazém Paulista. We could eat à vontade (as much as you want), but after the starters and the first round, I was full! You’re supposed to wash it down with cachaça, caipirinha or beer, and wash it down we did, with all three, I believe, which allowed me to eat a little bit more of the divine dish. After that though, you could roll me out like a ball... It was our lunch and I didn’t touch food until the next morning!

* requeijão is a type of cream cheese, sold in plastic cups, with a mild but very characteristic taste

** an expression meaning to get rid of the longing (literally to kill the longing)

Samba sem você

 At the beginning of my stay in Brazil, I had the impression that time had slowed down. Suddenly I felt more relaxed than ever and could finally savour moments of laziness in the warm sun. It seemed like my trip would last forever, and, of course, I wanted it to! But all good things come to an end. Due to personal circumstances I wasn’t able to stay there any longer and there came a day (on Tuesday)  when I had to pack my bags, heavy with bottles of cachaça, and board the plane. Since, towards the end of my stay, invitations to meet suddenly bloomed, final errands had to be made and I was working on some translations (to relieve my dented budget), hardly any time was left to take care of my blog!

So I’m back in cold London (and no, it’s not a bad dream), tired and pensive, but with pockets full of stories and enough of good memories to keep filling the pages of this blog until my next trip to Brazil. I am pretty sure I will now be a frequent visitor! What I also have in excess, and that wasn’t planned, are the few kilos I gained during the numerous trips to bars and restaurants. I reached my record level of 65kg! So, please, dear friends and family, if you see me these days, kindly refrain from commenting about what I already know! I’m starting my post-Brazil diet right away. So today, instead of sinking my teeth into a juicy lump of beef and quenching my thirst with (stupidly) cold beer, I had to make do with wild rocket, organic carrots and light Philadelphia cheese.

Stay tuned, folks! More Brazilian tales coming soon. And in the meantime, listen to the beautiful voice of Rosa Passos singing “Samba sem você” (Samba without you). This song really reflects my current mood as my love stayed behind and will only join me in about a month...

Desfile das Campeãs (Carnival Special 4)

Sorry for being so silent for the past week, but guess what – I went to Rio!!!!! So, instead of moaning in front of the TV screen about how uninventive the costumes / songs/ floats were, I got to see the grandeur and the schools’ true colours live at the sambadrome during the Winners’ Parade (Desfile das Campeãs) last Saturday. And as you can imagine, my sensation was quite different from the one at home. I simply loved it! It was all more stunning than I could ever have imagined. What can I say, you may admire the teeny-weeny detail of a passista’s* skimpy glittery outfit or marvel at the golden threads on a school’s flag, your face glued to the screen, but seeing it with your own eyes, amid thousands of cheering carnival lovers, puts things into perspective. Literally.

The sambadrome is a huge construction with concrete tribunes along the 700-metre-long stretch of the Marquês de Sapucaí street. And unless you are one of those lucky ones able to afford a seat in the camarote (luxurious booth), forget the cherishing the intricacies. Instead, switch to enjoying the exuberant, pulsating string of colourful alas**, every now and then divided by floats sticking out like enormous birthday cakes, with the decorative elements bouncing up and down to the rhythm of samba enredo.

I made numerous videos with my excitedly shaking hands, so if you want a glimpse of what it was like, have a look here, and keep checking the channel for more videos.

Special thanks to Rafael and Lina for making it possible.