domingo, 8 de fevereiro de 2009

arroz e feijao, arroz e feijao

Per Conor's bright suggestion, here are some links to your recommended Bossa-Nova-blog-reading soundtrack:
1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncBjLOVR4rg&feature=related
2. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjk0iIWqFzc&feature=related
3. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLk4EH9FWwI
4. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLlwYWpOs_o

Food is a big deal to me. I love food and eating and I consider eating food a great joy. I (probably unfairly) base much of my judgment of a place on the cuisine it offers. So, I'm unsure what to feel now, since I've eaten rice and beans two times a day, every day since I arrived here in Aruja. I enjoy rice and beans. The dish is slightly savory and with a squirt of lime juice over the top, can almost seem exotic. Rice and beans can fill the stomach just fine. And, if I really wanted to, I guess I could always buy and prepare my own food instead of having Selma (my house-lady) do all of the cooking, but I'm pretty busy, dangit. And also, I'm looking forward to having my heart and tummy won over, or through such relentless repetition somehow become physically dependant on the specific nourishment offer by arroz e feijao.

Brazilians, onthe otherhand, are so passionate about their rice and beans, their passion almost reaches a form of patriotism. A few days ago, a young Brazilian guy told me how he missed his nation's dish more than anything, family included, while studying abroad in Canada, and that he was driven to tears when his host-mother, in her naivete, drained the water from the beans..."the water's the best part!"he exclaimed...and during his story I thought back to the several dozen dishes of those soupy feijaos, and had little sympathy for him.

When I'm unable to enjoy the food I crave, I'm apt to take a perverse pleasure in talking in detail about the dishes I want to be tasting at the moment. Luckily, also teaching at BRITS is a true connoisseur of the Cuisine Americana, in the form of a jolly, baby-faced, 50 year old Nigerian named Michael. Michael has traveled and lived all over North and South America, Europe and Africa, and he harbors within himself such passion for all things tasty, he's a natural partner for food fantasy discussions. We keep one upping, food-name-checking until we're both salivating and become angry with one another and have to leave each other's presence.

Recently in the teacher's breakroom Michael leaned over towards me, and in a low/serious voice said, "I don't understand how you could leave the US...I...love...the...whopper," then gave a sad sigh, clicked his tongue and slowly shook his head, travelling back to the last bite of BurgerKing he tasted. Michael'll often pop his head into the teacher breakroom and just say one phrase to me, like, "curly-fries, wit da seasonin" and make a little curly fry in the air by wiggling his index finger in a tight circle, and nod slowly, or "Domino's...tha theek crust...thirty minutes or less...or FREE!" With this face. I guess it took the eyes of an outsider to realize how truly blessed we are in the states...or as Michael put it, "Man, if you African, it's not junk food...it's just delicious."

I've completed my first full work week for Brits here, and am a little astonished at how quick I was brought into the fold...I guess when there are not people working at or concerned with "integrating" me (or anyone) into a new culture or way of life, it becomes a non-issue; one just adapts as one needs to. I'm also amused by the phenomenon of how professional adults of all ages immediately regress to their petulant, immature selves once they return to the role of student, especially if they are studying a subject of which they are a beginner. For example, I have a student named Teo, about 50, looks a lot like a slimmer Tony Soprano with glasses who may be a foreman or lead, and quite respected and revered in his office, but in my class, sits forward in his chair, hugging his desk like an anxious 10 year old. When Teo has an answer he raises and vigorously waggles two fingers in the air and says, "teacher, teacher, I know teacher." And I have to ask him to wait his turn. Another entire class of about 5 students, all between the ages of 35 and 55 were caught collaboratively cheating before and end of term exam, and had to get a severe dressing-down from one of my colleagues.

As I'm learning the names of all my students, I'm realizing a vast draw on a bunch of cultures. Here are some of the cool/interesting names off the top of my head: Wellington, Osmar, Leticia, Solange, Emerson, Agnelo, Edilson, Wada, Mauricio, Nifna and Tatiane.

I did begin my Portuguese training this week. My director is using the Method (oooohh) on me and the teacher has become the student...so far, I can say that as a teacher I love the Callan method, and as a beginner student of Portuguese I find it slow and occasionally frustrating, but I'll keep the faith. Luckily, living here and being immersed in the language affords me all sorts of opportunities to practice constantly. My current favorite Portuguese phrases are: "legao; otimo" cool, "saude, sorte, paz e amor" best wises, but literally health, luck, peace and love.

Saudem sorte, paz e amor,

Kris

Nenhum comentário:

Postar um comentário