 Hello,
my name is Patrick Johnson. I was born in Kirkland, Washington, but moved
down to Florida when I was little. I live with my mother, father, and
sister, Whitney. I attend Seminole Senior High School. I'm not sure where
I'm going to spend my exchange yet, but I'm excited nonetheless.
I enjoy writing, reading, playing video games, hanging out with my friends,
and cooking (I'm hoping to pick up a few new recipes wherever I end up). I
also enjoy listening to music, though I can't play an instrument for the
life of me. |
|
So! Brazil. Brazil is an amazing country. At first, it's also
confusing. An amazingly confusing country. I got off the plane, not having ANY
idea where I was going. Natal Airport is small, and apparently has helpful signs
up. Downside: these signs are in Portuguese. All I got was a general impression
of helpfulness, and if I was lucky, an arrow. I was also lucky in that there is
one baggage carousel, because Lord knows if I could have found one by myself. As
it was, I followed the flow of people, and waited hopefully, sweating in the
tropical heat and my Rotary blazer. I picked up my checked luggage and hopefully
staggered towards the only obvious exit in the room. The doors opened, and as I
was looking around for someone with a sign or something (maybe "Bem-vindo ao
Brazil Patrick Johnson, Exchange Student!") people who I very distinctly did not
know ran up and hugged me, saying things in Portuguese in a very excited manner.
It was later determined that this was my host family, mostly thanks to the fact
that two of my three host brothers speak English. I cannot tell you how much
harder life would have been without this. They asked if I was hungry, in
Portuguese. Now, I had been studying my phrasebook intently (kinda), and felt
that I could handle small talk (-ish), so I gave the astute reply of "Huh?" and
looked desperately to my host brother.
Thus began a long and confusing time of not knowing what
the heck anyone was saying. I did learn a lot in this interim, though. I
learned that there are many ways to say "How are you?" in Portuguese, and
that they often sound completely unintelligible. One of the favorites sounds
like someone is just naming vowels at you. I learned that if I smile a lot,
everything goes smoother. In fact, everything went fairly smooth. Brazilians
tend to be a friendly people, and are quick to laugh, and then invade your
personal space. Everything was gliding along smoothly until I had to finally
suck it up and go to school.
School here is something entirely different from what I am
used to. At times, it is surreal. A whirling cacophony of noise, uniforms,
and unnecessarily graphic Biology slides. The Brazilians have devised a
great way to equalize the social playing field: everyone looks like a
goofball in these uniforms. The pants could not be less awkward, and the
shirt has a great feature of being both baggy and uncomfortably tight, due
in large part to the elastic around the hem and cuffs. I walked into the
school feeling like a huge loser. But it was okay! Everyone else looked like
a huge loser too!
I think I got my first real taste of Brazilian culture in
school. I realized that, while in the States, when you sit on someone's lap
and kiss their cheek a lot, it meant you were dating, here it means you go
to school together. I figured this out after people I had mentally earmarked
as 'couples' got up and switched partners throughout the day. That was a bit
of culture shock.
The only other real bit of shock (aside from Brazil's
propensity to eat chicken hearts like they're going out of style) is the
fact that most girls my age don't shave their legs. They shave maybe half,
from the knee down. You don't really notice this until you meet a friend
outside of school (uniform pants are long) and do a double-take. It's pretty
much a completely foreign concept here. Some girls do shave the whole leg;
but the majority goes unshorn. It's really the only thing that actually gave
me a shock. That, and the heart thing.
The first month was fairly uneventful. Making friends,
learning a language, and going to Rotary meetings for the sole reason of the
dessert. |
Patrick Johnson