Live from a hammock in Brazil...it's Becca's Blog! (including pictures of live dogs!)

I've been stuck in a major blog bog lately.  


Although I have plenty of things I want to blog about I just can't seem to get myself going.   So, I decided tonight to just start...to write a blog post...even if it ends up being about nothing.  A lot of my blog posts end up being mostly about nothing anyway.  


So I guess I'd better get blah blah bloggin.  


I'm in Brazil once again.  This is my sixth, and final visit, before my parents come home in July.  My goal when they left was to try to visit every six-ish months, and I'm proud to say that I actually accomplished it.  


It's not often that I actually complete my goals.  I make a lot of goals.  And I break a lot of goals.  But I guess that goals involving things you already enjoy, in my case traveling, should be easy enough to stick to.  It's probably like a chocoholic making a goal to eat a candy bar a day.  Easy. But, my goal did take a lot of money, frequent flier miles, time, and planning.  So I guess I can be proud to check this goal off the list.  


Three of my six visits were tacked on to other trips I probably would have already been making whether or not my parents were in Brazil.  The first time I came to Brazil was on my way home from Paraguay after spending five weeks there working on my Master's Degree.  The fourth time I came to see my parents was as an appetizer to my Spinsters Storm South America 2010 trip, which included a return trip to my mission.  And the fifth time I graced my parents with my presence was on my way to Bolivia for a humanitarian expedition.  


So I guess I'm lucky that, because of having served a mission in Argentina and speaking Spanish, I've had plenty of reasons to justify my visits to South America these past 2.5 years.  


I have enjoyed visiting my parents and am glad that I've had the chance to spend quite a bit of time with them.  It has been good for me to share a little bit in their missionary experience.  I've been able to meet a lot of their missionaries, attend baptisms and meetings, and become friends with many members of the church here.  I guess it's been nice to see firsthand why they are where they are and why we've had to have our parents be away for three years.  I guess I feel slightly less selfish about my parents being gone when I realize what a meaningful experience it's been for them (and hopefully for the people they've served.)


Anyway, people always ask me what I do when I come to Brazil.  And, although I've been able to see some beautiful places and do some fun touristy things, for the most part I just hang out with my parents.  We watch BBC movies, piece quilts, do errands, visit, cook, I help them (mostly my dad) with major computer problems (like attaching files to emails), and just do everything I'd do with my parents if they were at home.  (Obviously my dad does not participate in some of our activities like BBC watching or quilt piecing.) 


Anyway, sometimes when I'm here it starts to feel like I am just at home with my parents in Idaho and I sort of forget that I'm in another country.  


But then I remember that I am not in Idaho.  Because...1)it's not freezing cold outside, 2)my hands aren't cracked and bleeding from the cold, 3)my hands therefore look less man-handish (which is quite nice) 4)there's tons of delicious fruit to eat year-round...watermelon, papaya, mango, pineapple, etc. and 5)approximately 12.5 minutes after doing my hair and thinking to myself, "man, I'm having a good hair day" my hair succumbs to the humidity and curls around my face, leaving me looking like a cross between three year-old Becca...

and the following dogs.

It's true.  I really look like that.  I have to flat iron my hair several times a day just to keep from looking too childish or dogish.  

But the biggest reminders that I'm no longer in Idaho often come at the grocery store.  I just find so many things funny/different/weird there and, as a good blogger, my camera is always in my bag ready to go.  

In Brazil it is super common for people to change their minds and just abandon food they don't want to buy at the registers.  I know people do that in the U.S. too but it just seems like it's way more common here and often involves perishable food items being shoved into the gum rack...yay, bloody meat juice dripping onto the gum and tic tacs!  Delicious.  

Anyway, on a recent trip to the grocery store, someone had decided to last minute ditch some cow kidneys.  I can just see a husband and wife in line, one of them saying to the other, "you know I guess I don't feel so much like having cow kidneys tonight for dinner...let's just leave them, okay?"  

That's got to be what happened.  I just don't understand how one minute cow kidneys sound delicious and the next minute you're leaving them at the checkstand.  I just think that you either crave (and enjoy) cow kidneys, or you don't and that there shouldn't be last minute decisions on that choice for dinner.  But, each to his own.  I can promise you though that cow kidneys won't ever make it even as far as the checkstand with me.  Yuck!

I guess I should give the cow kidney ditcher credit though...at least they didn't shove them in the gum rack.

The following picture should be entitled "In case of fire, trip here." 

It just made me laugh that the fire extinguisher is in the middle of the aisle and takes up half of the aisle.  It just seems like they could find an easily accessible place to put it that wouldn't cause shin injuries to the customers and/or wouldn't cause the fire extinguisher to get knocked down probably at least once a day.  I wonder what the shelf life is for an extinguisher that gets knocked over regularly?  

Maybe I don't shop for meat often enough (and really, I don't buy much meat...don't really enjoy cooking it) but I've never seen giant turkey legs...just the legs...for sale in the U.S.  

and they were giant.  I don't know if the pictures do them justice, but they were huge.  

I was going to take a picture of my hand next to the turkey legs, but my giant man-hands made the turkey legs actually look small.  So I used a bottle of coke.  Sorry to whoever later bought that bottle of coke.  Just for the record it didn't touch the turkey.  Oh, and it wasn't a 2 liter bottle...that would make the turkey legs unbelievably ginourmous...but it was a nice big bottle.

"Vat o' Pork Chops" is what I'm titling the following picture.  

because, it's a picture of a vat...of pork chops.  It could also be titled "A Public Health Disaster Waiting to Happen."  You just dig through with your bare hands, choose the ones you want, and bag them up.  That is, if you're the type of person who likes to buy pork chops from a vat.  I, however, am not. 

I thought of several titles for this picture, but couldn't think of any titles that wouldn't possibly be taken as pervy/disgusting.  So, I'm not going to title it.  I'll just tell you that it is a giant hot dog all curled up.  As if hot dogs weren't disgusting enough without being packaged as such.  

They sell this whole dried and salted fish stuff (including skin and I think bones) that smells as bad as it looks.  I think it is a Portuguese thing.  Of all the things the Brazilians could have inherited from Portuguese cuisine they chose this?  They should seriously re-think it...their grocery stores would certainly smell better if they did.  

And, last but not least...a bit of good news from the grocery store.  After 2.5 years of exporting corn chips to my parents, a grocery store in Fortaleza finally sells them!  

And they only cost $13.25 USD for 210 grams!  Maybe if my parents save up for the rest of their mission they can buy some...although I bet they'll be getting stale on the shelf soon, as I don't know anyone who would be crazy enough to pay $13.25 for a small bag of chips!

or $6.32 USD for an envelope of fajita seasoning.  

Maybe a millionaire, but not me.  And certainly not my parents.  My mom still washes and reuses zip-lock bags.  

Oh, and Brazil needs to work a little more on their grocery store displays.  They always seem to be so high with things so precariously balanced.  Anyway, the other night my mom and I were standing in line at the grocery store and a two liter bottle of Coke fell off one of the displays, hit the floor, and exploded all over us.  It scared us at first but then we found it quite funny couldn't stop laughing.  We were both covered in sticky Coke.  My mom's hair was entirely soaked on one side.  

So, I guess if we get bored during my visit we can always head over to our local grocery store for some entertainment.  

Anyway, blah, blah, blah, the end.