Blogging no Brasil: Episode 7

I have just come back from the biggest adventure of my life, trying to get my academic life back in order after 3 months on the road. Sitting here in the USP reading room feeling like I’d never left, trying to catch up with all my year abroad project work that I missed. I come across this blog post that I intended to post way back in October about my decision to stay in São Paulo for another semester…

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Why did I make this decision? 

I’m still asking myself to an extent. What it all boils down to though is settling in. But don’t worry, this post isn’t only about this decision, it’s just a backdrop for my real thoughts. I know that apart from one small moan several posts ago, my life has seemed pretty much idyllic here. But that really is only half the story. I am confessedly very selective about what I share to give the best impressions about the time I’m having here. I could post *everything*, but then again do people want to read about *all* the ups and downs? 

I don’t know what portion of you have ever lived or done an exchange abroad. Looking back, I was rather naive that with my relatively outgoing personality and simply being British would get me places here. In short, it hasn’t. My previous “deep” post pertained to problems that I perceived as short term: bureaucracy, housing etc. For me, I thought that once I overcame these hurdles, that my life would iron out and everything would be peachy. But then new obstacles rose in their place. 

Brazil has been the worst time of my life.

Wow. Deep. Am I serious? Deadly. 

Everyone is different, of course. We all adapt to new places in different ways and we all have different reasons for enjoying something more or enjoying something less. Some of you may be able to empathise with me, some not. It’s ok. On the outset, Sao Paulo should be the perfect match for me: it’s the biggest city in Latin America and I’m a classic London boy, what’s not to love? 

I’m going to set this out now, homesickness for me hasn’t really been a problem. Due to my job at Asda, I’ve been used to not going home much and staying away for extended periods. I just visualised my time in Brazil as an extended university semester away from home. Why think of home and waste my time here when it’s such a unique experience? I know I’ll be back soon anyway. There are a few things I miss (mum, fish & chips, a couple of close friends), but it’s not like I crave to go home very much. Home is home and I just tell myself that this is my new life now. I guess I’m lucky in that respect, seeing as so many others are missing home. Put it simply, I don’t miss mum’s cooking because mum doesn’t cook 🙂

Something that is affecting all of us exchanges is Brexit. I know that we made our bed and must now lie in it, but this uncertainty in the currency market is a load of dump. While I’ve been in Brazil until now (end of July – mid Oct), the value of the pound has fallen by a fifth against a strengthening Real. It’s consigning me even more to the bandejao, but hey, I don’t mind that. It’s just annoying having to think if I really need what I want to buy. 

Culture shock has been the basis of my problems here. Prior to Brazil, I was a relatively small-scale traveller, only seeing a couple of European countries, with my only excursion out of Europe being to the US, where the culture is pretty different, but even so it’s still rather easy to adapt, especially due to the shared language. In this sense, I’d heard that it was different in Latin America and Brazil, their mindset and attitude. Even now, I *know* it’s different but I can’t pinpoint exactly how. I can’t understand why some things happen, and why people act a certain way. In this way, I can see that it makes it pretty obvious that I’m a foreigner. It’s so frustrating. One such example is manners: it’s global knowledge that Brits are known for their politeness and manners. The best case is on the metro. One of the most confusing things I have even encountered. People are perfectly normal and polite outside, but as soon as they step inside the metro station, the rules of the game change. It’s easy to suspect nothing as you pass through the ticket barriers and see that people are forming queues for the next train (admittedly I rarely see queues in the UK for public transport…). And that’s when it changes. The train arrives, let’s say that it’s relatively full and there are people who want to get off. For some reason, Brazilians will push onto the train before anyone gets off. For me, it’s much simpler, people leave the train and that makes space for you to get on. No, apparently people trying to get off the train are the ones in the wrong…. Getting off the train, you have to fight against people pushing and shoving, I’ve been clawed in the face a couple of times. Want to know what’s funny? As soon as you’re on the train, if you even so much as rub against someone they’ll immediately apologise…

It’s also been challenging to adjust myself to the commitment culture here. In Europe, I’m used to people RSVP’ing for an event, and if they say they will go, there is a relatively good chance they will hold their word and show up. In Brazil… well I’d say that the chances are less than half that it will come good. After initially expressing that I wanted to go dancing to celebrate my birthday, several people responded that they would be interested in coming. At that point there were about 12 people interested in coming with me. Through the course of the week, one by one people starting dropping out. When the day came around, only 3 remained. One texted me to make sure I will still up for it, and I texted the other 2 to check if they would still go, because they were staying rather quiet. They responded quickly to say that had something else planned a few days before. Considering it was for my birthday, I was pleased that so many people thought so highly of me that they would drop out for the next coming party. I guess this is why clubs in Sao Paulo make so much money from on the door sales, because people change plans so much at the drop of a hat. Still, flaking is commonplace here, and it’s something I had to get used to, even if I would never do it myself (cf, writing this while on a coach on the way to Oktoberfest, another case of 20 people becoming 2, but I kept my promise Dor 😉 )

Even doing what I love did little to alleviate my feelings, I have regularly been going dancing ever since my friend Carlisson and I realised we were both in São Paulo, and I started taking forró lessons. Even though I’m meeting the most like-minded people I’ve been encountered during my time in SP, there’s something that’s still not quite right. When I go to dance salsa, naturally it isn’t Brazilian so there is a tendency for people to not dance the same way as I have been taught, meaning that even when I’ve been dancing salsa, it hasn’t been as cathartic or stress-relieving as it could be, or it could have been in the UK.

Strongly linked to this is my ability to make friends. Everyone keeps telling me that I have an advantage spending my YA at a university, which has been making me feel even more guilty about my inability to make friendships. Arriving in the second semester here has meant that most people have already formed friendship groups. Also taking only 2/3 modules hasn’t helped. Hasn’t helped that not many people go to these modules. Hasn’t helped that most people in these classes are adult learners with whom I have less affinity. It doesn’t leave too many for me to attempt to befriend. The classes feel even more atomistic than in Soton, people have the class, the teacher talks for the majority and then everyone leaves separately, which left me wondering when the Brazilian students themselves actually make their friends. I love sharing experiences with people and having people to chat to and laugh with and I just didn’t feel I was connecting with Brazilians enough. People who I tried to talk to just seemed disinterested and their facial expression told the story that they just wanted to get away as soon as possible. In classes, some people would actively exclude me from conversations and then insult me to each other because I was different, right in front of me, justifying it to each other by saying that it was OK because I didn’t understand. It drove me to the point that I was on the verge of giving up one of my modules, and one evening I just went home, locked myself in my room and cried. Everything altogether was just unbearable. I was convinced that until then, I had just been lying to myself that I had been enjoying it and it was at that precise moment that all my negative emotions bubbled up and took over. 

I really wanted to go home. Not because I missed the UK, but because I just gave up. Brazil had broken me and I couldn’t cope.

And now we’re talking about extending my stay for another semester?

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Want to see why I am happy to stay in São Paulo? Head over to my main blog at https://bloggingnobrasil.wordpress.com

Forte abraço e até mais!