Rocco- Outbound to Brazil
October 1, 2012
Well, here I am, 1 month and a week later. Sitting here in the school
library trying to explain through a keyboard what exactly has been going on
in my new life, and it is anything but easy. Yes, I’m living with my new
family in Joao Pessoa, and I’m going to the local high school, Motiva
Miramar. I have some amazing Inbounds in my city that I have really grown
close to me since I arrived. A Finnish 17 year old named Johan, a Taiwanese
16 year old named Frank, a Minnesotan 18 year old named Annika, and a
Spanish 18 year old named Alberto. This new life seems almost unreal to me.
I walk to school every morning, which begins at 7 am, and ends at 12:40. I
have a housekeeper named Nana, and a Yorkie called Freddy. My family has
taken me in as one of their own and I am starting to feel like I am home in
this new place.
Yet… to think, all this seemed like only a bad nightmare only a month ago. I
arrived at the Jacksonville airport at 3 pm on August 18th, with my family
and friends to say goodbye. I left with tears in my eyes and a fearful
courage in my heart. Yet I was so happy to see the outlines of my home city
fade away from view gazing out the side of an airplane window. I was
scheduled to take 3 flights that day, and travel for a combined 20 hours,
arriving at around noon the next day. I left Atlanta airport in a bit of a
flurry of emotions, I had used my cell phone in the states for the last
time, I called everyone I knew and said a final goodbye for now. My flight
from Atlanta to Brasilia was a defining moment of my exchange; it was so
solidifying how far I was from home, it was a bit frightening. I remember
waking from a restless sleep on the airplane and peering out the window to
see one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I could only see
stars, in the deep lifeless night, I could see so many stars, I could have
been in space if I didn't know any better. After we landed, I left the
airplane in a blissful haste and claimed my bags, traveling through customs
and personal information booths. I found myself in a sea of unkowledge. I
looked around and could see nothing but Portuguese. I used common sense and
a pocket dictionary to find where the outbound flights were to be purchased.
Funny moment, I had no clue of what airline to get in line for, so I just
got into the first one I saw. Waited until I was called up and asked if the
man knew English. Knowing us exchange students luck, he did not, and we had
a butchered conversation about the fact I’m in the wrong line, so he pointed
off down the line of airline kiosks, and said something about “JJ”. Well, I
repeated this same process through about 7 other company stations, all
saying the same thing and pointing in some odd direction. After about 30
minutes of it, I wa s done trying, and found a help desk for international
travel and thankfully a man there knew English, and pointed to the airline I
needed to go to, which was nowhere near where I was told by the other
airlines. For some odd reason, when people were saying “JJ” they supposedly
meant “TEM”. So after receiving my boarding pass I proceeded to pass through
security. There was no line, and seemed to be very relaxed. I placed all my
carry-on’s onto the x-ray line, and proceeded to take off my shoes, then the
man assisting said I don’t need to, cool huh? I started taking out my iPod
and various legal papers from my pockets, and again the man said I don’t
need to stress, so he just led me into the x-ray machine and let me go on my
way. It was such a liberating event. I was starving by now, not having eaten
for maybe 5 hours. So I walked around trying to find some food. I found a
small the only legitimate food vendor in my side of the airport , a cafe
selling mostly breakfast foods, fitting, since it was technically the
morning there, even though I felt like I had not slept in a few days. So I
got in line and proceeded to make a fool of myself attempting to order a
simple croissant sandwich and something to drink. Thankfully the workers
understood I was confused and just took my money, and gave me something to
eat. That “meal” was strangely satisfying, despite how awful it tasted. I
felt for the first time that I was truly in Brazil, and adjusting to the way
things were. I looked around and realized not to eat my sandwich with my
hands, and to just leave my trash where I was sitting when I was done. It
seemed easy, blending in is as easy as looking around yourself. I found my
gate and turned on my computer, to message my host family and let them know
I am on time, and will arrive soon after my final flight to Joao Pessoa. As
the time of departure started to creep closer and closer, I came to a
frighte ning realization, “Have I adjusted my clocks to Brazilian time?”
Fear rushed over me like a flood, I thought I missed my flight, and I began
freaking out because the gate I was waiting near was stating their next
departure was to another city, instead of Joao Pessoa. So I got up in haste
and began frantically searching the close by gates for my city name. I
realized the hour of time I thought I had to relax before boarding was the
difference of the time zones, so I was almost going to miss my flight.
Thankfully I made it on time, and got to the plane on time. I began to relax
once more once I had boarded and settled into my seat (or row, since the
flight had a small amount of people on board). I slouched back into my seat
and fell into a rough sleep. I awoke to the announcement that we would be
arriving soon. Once again, I began to freak out, I realized I wasn't ready
for what I wanted to say to my host family, and I needed to look up a few
words extra for m y introduction. In hindsight, I have a feeling that all
the people sitting next to me on all of my flights must have thought I was
schizophrenic or something, because at random moments I would frantically
grab my camera and take a picture of random things or write things down
without reason and with a strange look of terror in my eyes. I can imagine
looking over at them with a crazy smile and saying “don’t worry, I’m not
insane, I’m just an exchange student!” That moment, I realized that that
meant the same thing. We exchange students must really be some kind of crazy
to do what we do. I finished my new “speech” for my family and was repeating
it out loud as I descended the stairs out of the small plane. I walked from
the airstrip towards the terminal, and snuck a curious peek at the window of
the airport and saw my family. The looks in their eyes was something from
another world. They looked so excited to see me, they were jumping u p and
down, waving their hands and a miniature American flag as If there was some
reason I wouldn't see them. I felt a shiver of fear creep up my spine. I was
so scared. I cannot remember a time I had ever been so scared. I remember
even looking into the eyes of a shark while surfing at home, and not being
nearly this scared. I was petrified, and only because I was so unsure of
what they will think of me. Will they like me? Will they hate me? Will they
think I’m dumb or smart? I had no idea. So I claimed my bags at the carousel
and walked out to the reception area of the small airport to meet them. I
came to the reception area and was greeted by about 10 people, my parents,
my two siblings, my grandparents, two of my cousins, and my aunt and uncle.
I was half expecting them to wait for me to say something when I came into
earshot, but I only received a roar of “welcoming” in Portuguese. I stood,
in clear culture shock with my baggage in hand, tired, hu ngry, and
completely confused, and waited for silence, but none was to be found. They
took many pictures, and I held up the Brazilian flag for a few, trying to
show my words “I’m happy to be here”. After the greeting of all my new
family was over, we proceeded to the parking lot, and left. In the car, I
vividly remember, looking out the windows, trying to soak in every detail
outside and getting a blissful aura of awe. I tried in my best spirit to
say, “Thank you for everything! I’m very happy” but no one understood me, so
I had to forget about it for the time being. The very first word I learned
in Brasil was speed bump. Seems a little symbolic doesn't it? Kind of a
funny story too; my new brother-in-law was driving, and did not see the
speed bump in front of him, so I pointed and said what first came to mind
“Tope” hoping it was the same word from Spanish in Portuguese. Which after
hitting it, going 70 kph, they told me what it was in Portuguese, and thus I
learned my first word, “Lombada”… speed bump. It’s not always a funny story
how you learn words, but the few times it is, you never forget how it
happened. We drove on the highway, and I saw plenty of cool things, half of
which I have seen again since then, and we stopped at a restaurant for lunch
on the outskirts of the metro area. I completely forgot the name, and I hope
someday I will, but I loved it! In lout of American style eating, entrees
are not brought out individually, but in large communal portions, so
everyone can share. We ate fish, shrimp, rice, beans, spaghetti, and French
fries. The meal was great, I did my best to communicate with my family, and
for my first hour in the country, I would say I did very well. We also had
more of my family meet us there, more of my uncles and aunts. The family was
curious for the most part, and asked a lot of simple questions, like; do I
have a girlfriend, do I smok e cigarettes, do I like American football. And
I relied on my siblings to help with the translation, since both speak a
fair amount of English, but not too much. After lunch, we headed into the
city, and I saw the beach, I saw the boardwalk on the sand, and the bustling
city life. It was all so wonderful, and so different to me. We stopped to
eat ice cream at an ice cream shop on the beach and I ate ice-cream of which
fruity flavor I have never heard of before, because we don’t have them in
the States. We finished up and headed for home; finally I felt the sense of
relief sweeping over me. We pulled into a strange new driveway I did not
know, later I would find out to be my grandparents’ house, and grabbed my
bags to go next door to the residential building that was 10 stories high.
Villa Del Sol, my new home. We got all my belongings inside and I sat down
on my new bed, inspecting my new room. I was amazed. I was taken on a tour
of the house, and was amazed by t he view, even though I live on the third
floor, I could see much of the city, and barely see the beach behind the
buildings. So I did what I always do, I unpacked, knowing if I don’t do it
now, I won’t have the energy to do it later that day. I finished, and went
to take a shower. Once again surprised by how different things were. The
shower was a small stall in the bathroom with one handle controlling the
water. So, my rotary instinct comes into action. I turn the nozzle, and test
the water. It was bone cold… so I waited a little longer to see if it warmed
up. If anything, it became colder. I took the coldest shower of my life that
day. Not only was the water cold, but my heart became cold for that time as
well. I missed home already, I missed hot water, I missed knowing where I
drove in a car, I missed knowing things in general. I felt cold down to my
core, and hit a sort of “rock bottom”. I finished cleaning myself and dried
off, feeling a l ittle more alive from the feeling of being clean. I put on
fresh clothes and went out to the balcony and stared at the skyline for a
few minutes, thinking “Wow… I’m defiantly not in Kansas anymore”. As a
family we got ready to eat dinner. But our housekeeper I had just met was
making it, something very odd to me. I usually make dinner at home, or help
at least. My family told me to relax and wait for it to be ready. We ate,
and I was in awe of all the things I did not know in my language. Simple
talking over dinner was so difficult, I had to hear a question about 4
times, and ask what a certain word was in order to understand anything they
said to me. Replying to these questions was just as difficult, so naturally
“awkward” is one of my favorite words describing my first dinner at home. It
was a Sunday night that day, so the thought of school crept into my head,
and I immediately became very scared. My brother asked if I wanted to go to
s chool tomorrow, and I said yes, knowing it is better I start sooner than
later. So he said he would pick me up for school the next morning at 7 in
order to introduce me to the principle and help me know where I was going.
We finished dinner, and I got ready for bed. I was almost going to fall
asleep, but I heard someone in the kitchen, so I came outside to find my
sister Vanessa having a late night snack. I sat down and did my best to
converse with her. I stopped before she said more than a sentence and ran to
my room to get a pen and my flash cards. After the conversation, I must have
had a new 30 words to learn. I retired to my room and was lying in bed
staring at the ceiling. A swirl of emotions rattled my brain; Fear,
Excitement, Love, Loneliness, Bravery… and before I knew it, I had fallen
asleep 5000 miles from my old home.
That was my first day of Exchange. I hope you enjoyed hearing about it as
much as I enjoyed it in person. |
Our
Districts
Rocco Davis
Alaina
Alex
Aly
Aly
Andrea
Annie
Ashley
Ashley
Callie
Claire
Dakota
Danny
David
Gentry
Hadley
Haley
Jenna
Juli
Kaitlynn
Katherine
Kendall
Laney
Lucas
Madison
Natey
Nicole
Rainey
Sebastian
Taylor
Terry