The night before last night Lara, our sister-in-law, let Joa and I sleep in her air-conditioned room with black out curtains. No, let me rephrase that. She did not just “let” us; she forced us to sleep there. My Portuguese isn’t quite up to speed so I normally don’t join in but throughout the day, her and Joa spend a lot of time playfully arguing while she bossily tries to make sure our every need it taken care of plus some. I can’t add much but I do get a “estou cheia” in sometimes. It means “I am full” and I have to repeat it many times as she tries to make me eat more food. There is a loud love here where I am used to quiet politeness. Its refreshing to have something different and yes, good to step out my familiar.
We woke up early for vacation. It was 7 AM, which is actually 4 AM back in Dallas. If I think about that, it makes it worse. Joa tells me that we would take Lara to work so we could have the car for the day. As I rushed to get ready, I checked with Joa to make sure we were just dropping her off. He replied yes.
But I knew from experience that setting out to do one thing could lead to ten things, and that I had better be ready for anything. I know to some of you, that sounds pretty silly. But at home, in my element, I get to plan my days, I get to take care of things, I get to drive, I get to choose what to do with my time. On some levels, that is not true here and that is both refreshing and challenging at the same time. I just like being prepared and here, most of the time, I never know what is coming – as much as Joa tells me about plans – and I never know quite how to prepare. I am a control freak, yes I am. It is obvious from the last few sentences.
So we head out to drop Lara off downtown. This is close to where Joa grew up so we drive to his old neighborhood. We walk around. We see neighbors. We find a drug rehab place. We talk to the guy in charge and find out what their program is like. We stop and see his mom. All things not in the plan but all good things.
The rest of the day was pleasant as well. We went swimming in the pool. We met friends for lunch and I enjoyed hearing English again. We go back to the house. I try to take a nap. Joa’s sister and her family from Kansas City gets here. She and her husband – separately – tell me that they hear I am doing very well with my Portuguese. I wonder who in the family said this – I doubt some days that I have learned anything at all - but I am encouraged regardless. We go see Joa’s mom. We go to see Joa’s uncle and family. I throw out my few sentences in Portuguese that everyone is impressed with. I am proud of myself and honestly, I know even if I don’t say another thing the whole entire trip, they are pleased I have tried. I feel celebrated – not necessarily for who I am, because it feels hard to be known when I don’t say much– but for being brave, for trying something new, for struggling to learn Portuguese when it doesn’t fit or stay in my brain.
Sometimes I love it here and sometimes I hate it here. I am celebrated here in loud ways, in excited ways, that I haven’t felt often with life. And yet sometimes here, I am no one, I am hidden. I don’t speak, I don’t understand, I don’t contribute, I don’t choose.
When I think of living here, it’s overwhelming and exciting. It really has become as familiar as home because of the amount of time we spend here and because we spend it with Joa’s family and friends. Maybe I am not known in the ways I would typically want to be known. I can’t voice my own opinions as I want to – sometimes I think things get lost in the translation. But I am celebrated for being Joa’s wife, for being an American that (as much as she can) embraces Brazilian culture, for learning a new language (as hard as it is) and for journeying here with my love. I guess that’s a start. It’s a start at bravery and courage, it’s a start at taking risks, it’s a start at stepping outside of my comfort zone.
And that, my friends, is typically what my days in Brazil are all about.
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