Anna's Blog

Day 2 - Asakusa, Ginza, and waiting for Amber

2011-10-04T06:28:00.006-03:00

Day 2 has passed already. Not completely, of course, but it is already dark outside, my feet hurt, and I decided to spend the next two hours or so writing a blog post while waiting for Amber rather than strolling some more through the nightly streets, now lit by advertisement for pinball centers and restaurants.

Day 2 brought me to see two very different sides of Japan. One, the classical, as we imagine it from movies. Modern, yet based in the old culture of Pagodas, Shrines, and Buddhist temples.
Just a few blocks from the hostel is the heart of the Asakusa city part, which is a giant Buddhist temple called Sensoji. The temple is build around a golden statue that two fishermen found in the river while fishing. It is the Goddess of Kannon (Goddess of Mercy) that Japanese from all over the islands come here to pray to. The statue itself cannot be seen (it is whopping 6cm small!) but the temple is very splendid. Around it are several other small classic Japanese buildings, it has a giant gate with a big red lampoon in front, guarded by the Gods of Wind and Fire. And then there is the second highest Pagoda of Japan, with over 60m it looks as if cut out of a movie.
I spent quite some time around the temple, watching the tourist groups, many of them Japanese students in uniforms, pray and take pictures. I had found a nice spot in the shadow to eat my "Sushi Sandwich", as I wanna call it, which is the best invention since bread came sliced. For rice and nori lovers, anyways.
I visited another temple just behind Sensoji, which is Shinto. It is literally right next to the Buddhist Sensoji shrine, just like the two religions seem to live happily next to each other in Japan. This temple is not as splendid, but clean and simple. Other than the Buddhist temple, where the Goddess Kannon is praised, this Shinto temple was actually built for the two fisherman who found Kannon, not for the tiny Goddess statue itself.

After a nice coffee I jumped into the Ginza line metro, which had already brought me to Shibuya yesterday, and drove to Ginza. I would liken Ginza to 5th avenue in New York, only that every side street is like 42 Avenue. Most buildings are very new and host shops like Prada, Gucci, and Ferragamo. Tiffany's, of course, is there as well.
I was hit by a blasting Lady Gaga song from a dark store, and saw it was Ambercrombie & Fitch. Now after having heard so much about their marketing, and actually liking the clothes I have seen friends wear, I decided to give this hyped brand a try. To say it right away: NOT worth it.
Coming in I had to wait for the elevator, surrounded by 5 guys in Ambercrombie Dress-up and Flip-Flops, and one eye-candy guy, half naked but in ripped jeans, showing off his Abs that were about twice as prominent as Taylor Lautner's in Twilight, with his pants so low that it needed to be rated R. Now, while I can appreciate Art and love to look at a nice belly, it did feel a bit weird that this was a store. The elevator came and we (by now some more people had joined, waiting for the ultimate shopping experience) were brought to the 8th of 11 floors. (Yes, that's right, 11!) Each floor was barely lit (I barely saw what was being sold, let alone the colors), Lady Gaga was blasting, and it smelled so much like Aftershave that I could actually taste it. I already didn't like it and thus decided to walk downwards and not go up for the next couple of floors. The artwork in the staircases showed young blond men exercising in groups. The first association was the Nazi Propaganda for the Hitler Youth. Weird, to say the least. It looked a bit like the art from this painter, who always paints hard working, young, blond and blue-eyed men. I think he already had to hear those associations, too. I forgot his name. Either way, I passed more images of young men hunting or playing polo on my way down and had no joy in looking at the clothes as the music was too loud, I was barely recognizing any colors, and my nose felt numb from the smell. I had expected a lot more.
Across the street was a Zara store and I must say: How relaxing it was. Low electro minimal music, good lighting, and the subtle smell of cotton and a bit polyester. Way better.

My real shopping highlight though was another block down, or two. A 5 floor Yamaha Music shop. And right in the entrance hall, the one Clavinova that I dream of owning but had never had the chance to test it. The Modus F-11. A design masterpiece with amaaaaaazing sound. I tried that one, and I tried many many others. If I was a millionaire for example, I would take the matt black grand piano from for "only" 80.000 Euros. Or, if I had not too many millions to spend, the truly wonderful hybrid Clavinova Avant Grande (Style Edition, of course) from Yamaha itself. I tried them all. But for now, I am just aiming to get rich enough and find time for classes again to justify buying the first mentioned Modus F-11. Which, by the way, is nearly 2.500 cheaper in Japan than in Germany, and that's a good 30%. Unfair!
I spent over an hour in the store. It has two floors just with sheet music. Tobi would have loved it, they have a full cupboard just with Mandoline sheet music. On the highest floor they have Saxophones (too bad I wasn't allowed to try those, I guess they aren't willing to keep cleaning them of the spit from people that just like to try them all... like me). They had beautiful Sopranos Saxophones, and Clarinets, Fagotts, Oboes, en masse. Amazing. The strings were also on the upper floor and they had some really old Violins from Europe which looked simply stunning. And the silent edition for Violin, Bass, and Cello is designed so beautifully!! (Thats the electric ones, like Vanessa Mae played them).
In the basement I tried the electronic drum sets, which are awesome too. And they sell German Cajons from Schlagwerk. Need to remember that company. Cajons are the coolest... Although, if you know me, you might now it might get annoying if I was seated on a Cajon. Oh well...

I kept walking through Ginza for a while, checking out various luxury stores and just taking in the big-city-vibe.

When my feet got tired, I took the line home to Asakusa and shopped for some beer and dinner. The few restaurants that Lonely Planet names around this touristy area close their kitchen at 22h, and that's about when Amber will get here. Poor girl shall not be hungry, and I can still wait for dinner. So we will have Sushi Sandwiches and fresh noodles in the hostel. And a nice beer, of course. Kaoru unfortunately has to work late tonight, to get work done before her marriage. She is very stressed. But tomorrow we are going to Nikko all together. The Fantastic Three are reunited!

First day in Tokyo

2011-10-04T04:33:00.000-03:00

After a few interruptions by my dorm room mates, I finally really woke up at 11am. Everyone else had left and checked out, so I took my time to wake up and get ready. I decided that going to Shibuya would be my thing for today, cause the big crossing, which is like the Times Square of Tokyo, had been the first thing that came to my mind when thinking about visiting Tokyo. I also wanted to check out Ginza later.

On the way to Asakusa Metro Station I passed by a coffee house to get a giant coffee to get me started. No matter where I am, I need my caffeine... feel free to call me addicted... :P
I passed a big gate with a lampoon in it and stopped to take some pictures. Around me were many Japanese taking pictures as well. So it's not like they just take millions of pictures when abroad, they do it at home too...

I took the Ginza line all the way to Shibuya and after only a couple of minutes search I found one of the 17 exits at Shibuya station. One that led me to the Hachiko statue... Hachiko is a little dog that used to pick up his owner at the station everyday after work, and kept doing so even after his owner died. Cute story. I think it already made its way to Hollywood and Mr. Gere... Either way, I was at Shibuya. The giant crossing wasn't as filled as you might know it from pictures but it was still pretty full. I took a long walk through the shopping areas and was amazed by the style of the young Japanese women. You think our Hipsters are being all individualistic (and yet all looking the same), you should see the girls here. They all like to wear really short shorts or skirts, and overknee socks, with highheels (mostly ankle boots). They all look different, and many of them look really really pretty. I really wanted to take pictures of some of them. It was like a giant street-style runway.

When I had enough of the crowds at Shibuya, I went one station further to Harajuku to see the Meiji Junku Shrine and the gardens. Unfortunately the Iris and Azaleas weren't blooming, but it was still nice． And the shrine was so simple and beautiful! I especially remember the smell of wood. Smells a lot better than cold stone churches...
Around one of the trees, people from all over the world have written their wishes on little wooden plates and hung them on a wall for their prayers to be heard. Its a beautiful picture with all those plates hanging there with Japanese signs on them. The few that are written in English, German, French, and Spanish that I saw all said the same thing, and I assume the Japanese, Chinese, and Arab ones essentially also wish for the same thing. They wish for happyness and peace for their families. One of them however wished for "Children to dance". I found that very sweet． It went on, but I don't remember it now. I took a picture of it though.

On the way back to the metro I took a little detour to Takeshita street to see some of the Harajuku girls (you might know them from Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl"　music video) dressed up in Gothic Lolita, Visual Kei, and other crazy styles. I sat down with an icecream and just watched people for a while. I didnt get to see too many crazy dressed people. Maybe I need to go back on a Saturday. But I saw a few and it definitely is a close choice for next Carnival season!

As it was getting dark and I was just one station away from Shibuya, I decided to get off there again and see the crossing at dusk / night. I took what felt like 100.000 pictures of the Shibuya crossing when the lights turn green and out of a sudden hundreds of people start walking. Mateusz had asked me Friday night to please shoot a "cool series" from it, and it was harder than I thought. In the end I went into Starbucks, cause it has a second floor with window front. The Japanese guy next to me seemed to wonder at my persistence to take another shot and another shot just to get it right. Once I decided I was done, I went back downstairs and it was finally really dark, so I took some more pictures. Kaoru, my Japanese photography guru, taught me well... ;)

I had dinner at a tiny place in Shibuya. It was fast but good, and eating rice with chop sticks is not so hard when the rice is so sticky! Also, in Japan one is not bound to stick to European etiquette, so bringing the bowl close to your mouth is not a problem... :D

I am now back in the hostel and pretty tired after the 7 hours I have spent walking holes into the streets of Tokyo. Soon it's time for bed, cause tomorrow is a big day: I want to see more from Aksakusa, see Ginza, and wait for Amber to fly in from LA. She'll arrive late but we will have drinks with Kaoru (Karaoke?) and the day after its already time for our day trip to Nikko. Can't wait! :)

TOKYO! - Arrival

2011-10-03T08:33:00.004-03:00

I bought my ticket to Tokyo early in the morning of March 11th, just a couple of hours before the earthquake and following Tsunami devastated parts of Japan and lead to the problems at TEPCO's Fukushima plant. It seems for ever ago, and despite nervous comments by my grandma I never had the intention to dismiss this trip for the sake of ｆｅｅｌｉｎｇ safer. Which, and that as a side note, would have been ridiculous cause I still feel very safe here.

The trip really already started Friday morning (German time), when I finished the packing and left my apartment for work. Luckily, I was invited to a friend's good-bye party, which turned out to be a real blast with lots of people I have never met before. I literally partied through the night and started the final journey after 30min of light sleep and a long　shower. I was insanely tired, but that exactly was the plan: Sleeping　through the flight, so that when I get to Tokyo at 7am local time, I'd be awake, well rested, and not jet-lagged.
Well... the plan was really good, until I arrived in Frankfurt only to be told that the plane had a defected door and thus we would have to wait for the plane coming from Tokyo. It lead to good four hours of delay, which for me ment a 7 hour layover instead of 2.5 ... and no comfy bench in sight anywhere...

I was happy again, as soon as the plane arrived. The (not so) little geek in me was fascinated by the giant Airbus A380 that would bring us to Tokyo, and I spent the entire hour and a half they needed to get the plane ready and set up again at the giant windows of the (otherwise extremely boring) new Terminal 1 C.

Finally, boarding started. I quickly found my seat (81A), just behind the humongous left wing. Around me, and in the plane overall, were mainly Japanese people, most of them slightly drunk from all the German beer they had at the one and only restaurant / cafe at the terminal... I remembered the last time I sat in a plane in between a Japanese travel group: It was somewhere between Vancouver and Minneapolis, back in the days when I was still scared of flying, and I remember them all laughing and taking pictures in the by thunderstorm shaken plane. No good memories. Luckily though, the A380 flew like a magic carpet. And there was more than enough space for my short legs, and a tiny screen for me to finally watch Midnight in Paris (which I adored by the way, you should go see it!). And then I slept. Finally slept and slept and didn't even wake up for breakfast.

Getting into Japan was really easy. Although they had a mere 6 officers at immigration, there was no line. Take that Brazil! And they even take fingerprints and pictures, not just give out stamps... I managed to get onto the right train as well and quickly found the hostel after I had pulled my suitcase up what felt like 7 flights of stairs at Asakusa Metro Station.

The hostel is clean and nice, and I had time to take another nap and shower to get all ready for the real Tokyo exoerience with Kaoru. She picked me up at 17h and we went to a more traditional area of Tokyo, whos name I forgot. She managed to find the cutest small little restaurant somewhere in the middle of narrow alleys that no car could pass. We had to take off the shoes at the restaurant (smart me was wearing Chucks and taking very long... oopsie) and sat on the floor. As the menu was only in Japanese, Kaoru just ordered what she liked and I ate it. It was amazing food. So yummy. Next to the tuna sashimi I loved the little rolls made of tofu paper filled with I don't know what and topped with roe and sauce. To top off the awesome dinner, Kaoru took me to a tiny tiny bar, that basically just consisted of a small bar with　eight seats, lots of booze, and an old man that mixed what ever you ordered. We had Gin Tonic. It felt like back in the days in Madrid.

Back at the hostel I fell asleep directly and slept through like a baby.

Peru: Cuzco, Sacred Valley & Machu Picchu

2010-11-20T16:35:00.003-02:00

Als ich vor 1.5 Jahren nach Brasilien gezogen bin, stand für mich eine Reise ganz oben auf der "To-Do-Liste": Machu Picchu, Peru. Am Ende war es wohl die letzte Reise die ich von meinem zu Hause Goiânia unternommen habe, denn schon in wenigen Wochen geht es zurück nach Deutschland, aber es war sicherlich auch eine der Spektakulärsten.
Dank LAN hatte Franziska, Klaus und ich relativ günstige Flüge bekommen und kamen morgens früh um 7h in Cusco an, nach einem Flug mit wunderschöner Aussicht von Lima ins Landesinnere. Schnell haben wir ein paar Runden geschlafen und dann ging auch schon die Stadtführung los. Innerhalb der Kathedrale darf leider nicht fotografiert werden, aber sie ist sehr kitschig-schön mit viel Gold und mit einem schwarzen Jesus um den sich die lokalen Legenden drehen.
Innerhalb von Cusco sind noch viele Mauern und Teile von alten Inka-Gebäuden zu sehen, und die wissenschaftlichen Grundlagen mit welcher die Inka Hochkultur ihr reich errichtete und regierte scheinen so durchdacht und berechnet, dass man sich doch heimlich die Frage stellt ob wir nicht einfach all unser heutiges Wissen in bauliche Zufälle von damals quetschen.
Natürlich gibt es auch überall Märkte, und lokale Kinder und alte Frauen bieten Kleinigkeiten zum Verkauf an oder aber lassen sich mit den Touristen und einem Lama fotografieren.
Wir besichtigten auch noch einige Tempel und Versammlungsstätten der Inka rund um Cuzco, so zum Beispiel Saksaywoman, eine Struktur mit riesigen herangeschleppten Steinen und viel aufgeschütteter Erde die eine Plane Ebene ergeben um Versammlungen von einigen tausend Menschen der Inkazeit zu ermöglichen. Quasi so wie bei uns heute der Platz vorm Brandenburger Tor zu Silvester, oder aber die Pollerwiesen am Rhein...
Krönender Abschluss des Tages war eine leckere Portion Ceviche (in Zitrone gegarter Fisch mit leckeren Gewürzen) und ein Alpaca-Spieß. Dazu, wie sollte es anders sein: Ein Pisco-Sour. Dank der ungewöhnten Höhe stieg der auch schnell und gut zu Kopf.

Am 2. Tag ging es durch das Heilige Tal und mehrere darin liegende Dörfer und die Inkastätte Ollantaytambo. Wir besichtigten einen Markt dessen Touristen Stände eigentlich für Rundreisende wie uns gedacht waren, aber die Obst und Gemüseabteilung war sehr viel interessanter anzusehen: Buntes Gemüse, Frauen in bunten Gewändern, Frauen mit Kindern oder Ware in riesigen bunten Tüchern auf dem Rücken, und ganz nebenbei noch zwei geschlachtete Ferkel auf dem Boden. Spanferkel, anyone?!
Zur Mittagspause haben wir an einem sehr schönen Lokal gehalten, wo ich wohl das beste Ceviche und das beste Alpaca des Wochenendes in Peru gegessen habe. Im Hinterhof spielte eine Panflöten-Inka-Band wie wir sie aus der Fussgängerzone kennen und man konnte durch den Garten bis an einen Fluss. Im Garten selbst standen ein paar Lamas und Alapacas. Eins davon klein und niedlich, dass beim Näherkommen aber erstmal versucht hat mich zu treten. Hat aber nicht getroffen. Ätsch.
Ollantaytambo ist ein süßes kleines Dorf schon auf halbem Weg nach Machu Picchu und die Inka Terrassen können, wenn man nicht aus der Puste ist, ganz gut bestiegen werden. In der sehr bergigen Region waren Terrassen die beste Möglichkeit gerade Flächen zum Anbau von Nahrung herzustellen. Da die Inkas ja nicht dumm waren, haben sie gleich noch die passenden Aquädukte und Speicherhäuser mit in die Hügel gebaut. Einige der Wasserleitungen funktionieren heute noch und bringen Wasser von den Gletschern. Im Dorf selbst läuft am Strassenrand ein Frischwasser Kanal entlang und versorgt die Häuser der heutigen Bewohner.
Zum Abendessen hab es Meerschweinchen. Mehrfach wurde uns erklärt dass diese Sorte Meerschwein sehr gut für die Gesundheit ist (es sind nicht die lustigen, quiekenden Meerschweinchen die bei den Deutschen Kindern im Stall im Kinderzimmer sitzen) und so haben wir auch das mal ausprobiert. Sehr fettig muss ich sagen. Und nicht viel dran. Zum Glück hatten wir nur eins als Vorspeise bestellt.

Am 3. Tag ging es endlich nach Machu Picchu. Mit dem Auto nach Ollantaytambo und dann mit dem Zug bis nach Aguas Calientes. Von dort fährt ein Bus die Serpentinen hoch. Wir fahren früh da und hatten so Zeit für ein paar Fotos bevor unsere Tour los ging. Es ist wirklich wunderschön dort oben. Man hat einen sehr weiten Blick über das Land, es ist unglaublich Grün und die Tatsache das Menschen Steine bis dorthin gebracht haben ist einfach beeindruckend.
Leider hat es nach dem Mittagessen angefangen zu Regnen, so dass wir dann schon wieder nach Aguas Calientes gefahren sind und noch ein bisschen über den Markt schlenderten, statt die weitere Stunde die wir noch hatten in den Ruinen zu verbringen.
Machu Picchu ist schwer zu beschreiben. Da sprechen wohl die Bilder besser, als meine Worte.

Am nächsten Tag war dann auch schon die Abreise. Wir hatten noch einen halben Tag in Cusco den wir nutzten um ein bisschen durch die Stadt zu schlendern. Dann ging auch schon unser Flieger Richtung Lima. Während Klaus und ich dort auf unseren Rückflug nach Sao Paulo warteten um am nächsten Tag brav zu arbeiten, blieb Franziska noch für eine Konferenz und noch viel mehr Ceviche noch ein paar Tage in der Hauptstadt Perus.
Es war ein kurzer, anstrengender, wunderbarer, erlebnisreicher, lang ersehnter Urlaub. Wow.

Teil 4: Ja sind wir hier an der Nordsee?

2010-10-22T13:00:00.000-02:00

(Teil 1, 2 & 3 wurden in den letzten Tagen veröffentlicht. Der Text sollte in der richtigen Reihenfolge gelesen werden.)

Nach einem kurzen Stint in der American Express Lounge (wir mussten schon wieder über Sao Paulo Guarulhos fliegen), saßen wir endlich im Flieger nach Florianópolis. Wir waren nicht allein. Also, natürlich ist man selten in einem Linienflug alleine, aber diesmal war es voll, und laut, ein Fotograf mit einer dieser beigen Kriegsreporter Westen ließ mit seinem Blitzlichtgewitter das Flugzeug erleuchten und die Kofferablagen waren gefüllt mit Kistenweise Wodka und Johnny Walker. Wir saßen in der Mitte eines Fußballteams.
Wie ich später durch Google herausfand ist der FC Avaí, Fußball Club der Stadt Florianópolis, Erstligist in Brasilien und hatte am Vortag ein Spiel gegen den Verein von Quayaquil, Ecuador. Bis dahin hatte ich aber erstmal viel Freude dabei den Jungs zuzuhören. Es hat keine 5 Minuten gedauert bis sie bemerkten dass wir keine Brasilianer sind und eine andere Sprache sprechen, so dass sie freimütig von „all den schönen Mädchen“ sprachen die sie in Ecuador kennen gelernt hatten, während sie auf einem der Klapptischchen Karten spielten: „Wenn die 'nen richtigen Mann gewollt hätte, hätte die jawohl mich genommen und nicht unseren Zwerg… Die blöde Kuh.“, sprach einer enttäuscht und rückte noch einmal sein verdrehtes und bloß locker auf dem Kopf aufliegendes Baseball Cap gerade.

Nur wenig später waren wir gelandet und holten unseren bei Avis reservierten Mietwagen ab. Zur Sicherheit haben wir noch sämtliche Versicherungen dazu gekauft… Unsere Pousada [Puh-sada; etwa eine Pension] lag nicht weit weg vom Flughafen am Atlantikstrand Campeche und dank einer genauen Wegbeschreibung die mir von einer Mitarbeiterinnen der Pousada „Natur Campeche“ geschickt worden war haben wir sie auch schnell gefunden. Mal wieder war ein ganzer Tag mit Reisen vertan worden, also bezogen wir unsere Zimmer und gingen zum Abendessen in ein Sushi Restaurant in der Nähe, sehr zur Freude meines Vaters.

Am nächsten Tag nach dem Frühstück, bei welchem die Köchin für meine Mutter auf Anfrage ihr erstes weich gekochtes Ei zubereitete, bezogen meine Eltern noch schnell ein anderes Zimmer. Ich hatte eigentlich die Mittelkategorie bestellt (oder bestellen wollen… bin mir nicht mehr sicher), aber sie waren in einem einfachen Zimmer gelandet was für eine Woche dann doch zu eng gewesen wäre.
Danach ging es zum Strand. Bis dorthin sind es nur 50m, eigentlich perfekt, wäre da nicht das Wetter gewesen. Es war bewölkt und windig und für meinen, an 35°C gewöhnten, Körper auch recht kühl. Es hatte ein bisschen was von Nordsee im April. So hatten wir das nicht geplant. Anstelle also faul am Strand rum zu liegen und zu lesen nahmen wir unser Autochen und machten eine Inseltour. Von unserem Dorf zur Stadt Florianópolis und von dort an allen Dörfern und Stränden vorbei bis zur touristisch geprägten und vor Villen nur so strotzenden Nordspitze und dann an dem Inseleigenen großen Binnensee „Lagos da Conceição“ vorbei wieder zurück. Unterwegs haben wir ein paar Mal für Spaziergänge und Kaffee angehalten und haben somit viel gesehen und einen schönen, wenn auch kühlen, Tag verbracht. Wieder in der Pousada haben wir uns den Jacuzzi anstellen lassen (welcher wegen des kühlen Wetters allerdings eine gute Stunde zum aufwärmen brauchte). Während es meiner Mutter für baden zu kalt war, haben mein Vater und ich uns in das bald sehr warme sprudelnde Wasser gesetzt und gequatscht.

Zum Abendessen sind wir auf das die dem Festland zugewandte Seite der Südspitze in das Dorf Ribeirão da Ilha gefahren um dort wo die ersten Siedler auf Florianópolis ankamen Austern und Fisch zu essen. Die Austernzucht und die dazugehörigen Gastronomiebetriebe machen das Dorf für Touristen attraktiv und da wir alle gern Fisch, und mein Vater im Speziellen gern Austern, essen, besuchten wir das von unsere Pousada empfohlene Restaurant „Porto de Contrato“ mit Tischen direkt am Wasser.
Zur Vorspeise gab es für meinen Vater eine „Sequencia de Ostras“, also quasi eine Austernplatte mit 24 Austern in verschiedenen Zubereitungsarten (von jeder 2). Angefangen vom Shotglas mit Auster in Tomatensaft über die klassischen rohen oder auch gratinierten Austern bis hin zu Austern mit Basilikum oder Kokosnussmilch war alles dabei. Mama und ich haben uns Gambas mit Knobi geteilt (das war gut so, die Portion war sehr groß) aber auch bei den Austern mit gegessen. Die klassischen, rohen Austern mit Zitrone waren nach Ansicht meines Vaters nach wie vor die besten, worauf er bevor die Hauptspeise kam noch mal 6 rohe nachbestellte.
Für den Hauptgang hatte ich mir gewünscht mit meiner Mutter eine Moqueca, einen klassischen Fischeintopf mit Kokosmilch, Paprika, Dendê Öl und festem Fisch im Tontopf, zu teilen, da es die nur für zwei Personen gab. Die Idee gefiel ihr, und da wir ahnten dass schon die Sequencia de Ostras Papa ziemlich satt machen würde beschlossen wir dass der Eintopf auch für uns drei zusammen reichen würde. Eine gute Wahl denn der Fischtopf war riesig und wurde mit einem kleinen Salat, Reis, Farofa [Fa-„raw“-fa, geröstetes Maniokmehl] und Co. serviert. Dazu hatten Mama und ich noch ein frisch gezapftes „Eisenbahn Pils“, das einzige brasilianische Bier das nach deutschem Reinheitsgebot gebraut wird und aus der südbrasilianischen Stadt Blumenau stammt, wo dieser Tage kräftig Oktoberfest gefeiert wird. Wir waren alle pappsatt.

Am nächsten Tag hatten wir etwas mehr Glück mit dem Wetter. Wir verbrachten den Vormittag am Strand und als die Wolken aufzogen machten wir uns auf den Weg die Südspitze der Insel zu erkunden. Natürlich nicht ohne für eine Kokosnuss anzuhalten, die es an einem Kliff mit Blick auf den tobenden Atlantik gab.
Am Abend machten wir einen Spaziergang durch das Städtchen am Binnensee Lagoa und suchten uns ein Restaurant wo es für meinen Vater noch mal Austern gab und dann leckere Linguado (Scholle oder auch Flunder) aus dem Südatlantik. Trotz leicht gekippter Stimmung da es, wie lokal üblich, anscheinend nur überbackene und in Sauce schwimmende gegrillte Fische gab, konnte ich meinen Vater am Ende doch davon Überzeugen dass man im eher Serviceorientierten Brasilien alles so haben kann wie man will, woraufhin ich im eine schönes, gegrilltes Filet der Linguado bestellte, mit der Kräutersauce extra serviert so dass er sie probieren konnte aber der Fisch garantiert nicht mehr schwamm oder gar ersauf. So waren am Ende alle glücklich.

Am Tag darauf war auch schon wieder Sonntag. Ich verbrachte den Vormittag mit meiner Mama am Strand während mein Vater nach all dem Eiweiß und Eisen aus Austern und Fisch der letzten drei Tage leider etwas litt und lieber am Pool im Schatten blieb.
Nachmittags ging mein Flieger via Sao Paulo Congonhas zurück nach Goiânia, wo ich um 21h ankam.

Heute ist schon Dienstag und ich arbeite die Woche während meine Eltern noch ein paar Tage Florianópolis und seine Strände genießen. Das Wetter müsste dort jetzt durchweg sonnig sein. Am Donnerstag geht es für die beiden nach Rio de Janeiro weiter, wo ich am Freitagabend auch hinfliegen werde.
Wir werden dort noch einen schönen Freitagabend und Samstag verbringen bevor sie um 23h Samstagabend in den Flieger Richtung Paris Charles de Gaulle steigen und am Sonntagnachmittag wieder zu Hause in Leverkusen sind. Ich fliege dann um 23:30h vom selben Flughafen nach Hause nach Goiânia um den Sonntag zu genießen. Aber davon dann mehr, wenn es soweit ist.

(Fotos folgen bald. Die hat alle meine Mutter.)

Teil 3: Das Abenteuer geht weiter!

2010-10-21T13:00:00.001-02:00

(In den letzten beiden Tagen wurden Teil 1 & 2 veröffentlicht. Diese sollten zuerst gelesen werden.)

Am nächsten Tag reisten wir schon wieder weiter. Gepackt, ausgecheckt und gefrühstückt, hatten wir die Idee uns noch den Itaipú Damm anzuschauen. Das größte Wasserkraftwerk der Welt versorgt, laut Lonelyplanet, Paraguay mit 100% und Brasilien mit immerhin 25% der von den Ländern jeweils gebrauchten jährlichen Energie. Was ein echter Ingenieur ist, wie mein Papa, kann ja nicht nach Hause fahren ohne nicht da gewesen zu sein… Ich war mit mir selbst nicht einig darüber, ob es eine gute Idee sei die Koffer im Taxi zu lassen während wir den Damm besichtigen, aber am Taxistand war uns versichert worden dass dies quasi eine Standardtour ist und dann der Taxifahrer vor dem Eingang wartet bis wir wieder da sind und uns dann zum Flughafen fährt.
Mein Vater besorgte uns also einen Taxifahrer, wir luden die Koffer ein, und ab ging die Post. Es dauerte keine 20 Minuten bis der brasilianische Taxifahrer jegliche Sympathie verspielt hatte. Mein Vater fragte ihn, warum sein Renault Mégane (BJ 2007) nach nur 3 Jahren schon 250.000km gefahren sei. Er würde häufig Passagiere nach Buenos Aires fahren (das sind rund 1300km für eine Strecke), denn es kämen über Paraguay so viele Chinesen ohne Papiere nach Argentinien und die wollten in die Stadt. „Human Trafficking, verstehst Du? Die zahlen gut.“ Ich konnte gar nicht glauben was ich da grade gehört hatte, aber ich sagte nichts, denn ich war mir sicher dass weder meine Mutter noch mein Vater die Worte „Tráfico Humano“ herausgehört hatten.

Die Grenzüberquerung nach Brasilien verlief ziemlich ohne Probleme, auch wenn die Dame am Schalter meinen brasilianischen „Ausländer-Personalausweis“ noch nie gesehen hatte und sich deshalb nicht sicher war was sie damit anfange (und wie zum Henker sie mich eintragen) solle. Am Ende wurde ihr aber geholfen und dann war alles gut.
Statt rechts zum Flughafen bogen wir linksrum zum Staudamm ab. Dort angekommen mussten wir feststellen, dass man sich den Staudamm leider nicht allein anschauen kann. Es gibt organisierte, anderthalbstündige Busfahrten mit Filmvorführung und diese hätte zu lange gedauert, dann hätten wir unseren Flug verpasst.
Damit wir nicht gänzlich uninformiert wieder abfahren mussten, durften wir in den Vorraum des Kinos um uns die Fotos und Modelle anzuschauen. Unser Taxifahrer wartete draußen. Als wir 10 Minuten später wieder raus kamen (so viel gab es nun wirklich nicht zu sehen) war das Taxi weg. Es wartete nicht, es war nicht auf dem Parkplatz, es war wie vom Erdboden verschluckt. Weggefahren. Mit unseren Koffern.

Selten war ich so sauer in meinem Leben wie in diesem Moment. Die Wut überkam mich so dermaßen, dass ich die schönen Broschüren mit Fotos einer Ausstellung über Brasilien mit voller Wucht auf den Boden knallte. Ich bin eigentlich kein jähzorniger Mensch, aber über unsere eigene Blödheit aufgeregt brannten bei mir die Sicherungen durch. Ich fuhr meinen Vater an, dass dies ja wohl eine Scheißidee gewesen sei und stiefelte los zum Wachpersonal. Meine Mutter konnte es nicht glauben, und mein Vater blieb (obwohl eigentlich er derjenige ist der sich schnell mal ärgert) sehr gelassen, als belächle er die Situation aus Ansicht eines Dritten, amüsiert auf den „ältesten Trick der Welt hereingefallen zu sein“. Er fragte bei ein paar Ticketverkäufern rum, aber keiner hatte das Taxi gesehen. „Ha! Dann nehm’ ich ein Taxi zurück nach Argentinien. Den find ich den Kerl…“ sagte mein Vater. Zum Glück hatten wir alles wichtige, Pässe und Geld, in unseren Rucksäcken, aber dennoch schwankte ich zwischen blinder Wut und Ungläubigkeit.
Angekommen beim Wachpersonal am Eingang zum Damm sprudelte mein Portugiesisch aus mir heraus als hätte ich nie eine andere Sprache gesprochen. Ich erklärte unseren Verdacht und der Wachmann rief einen Grenzbeamten namens Oliveira an der Grenze nach Argentinien an. Dort käme er nicht durch, es würden nun alle schwarzen Méganes angehalten, aber sollte er über die Brücke nach Paraguay fahren dann hätten wir wohl Pech. Ein paar Minuten später, es erschien mir wie Stunden, kam einer der Ticketverkäufer zu uns rüber. Das sei noch nie passiert, versicherte er meinem Vater in gebrochenem Englisch, er wäre bestimmt nur etwas essen gegangen, dass machten die meisten Taxifahrer so wenn sie warten. Ich glaubte ihm nicht, dass dies noch nie passiert sei, dafür wusste der Wachmann viel zu genau mit wem er reden musste und was zu tun war… aber es gab ein bisschen Hoffnung.
10 Minuten später tauchte unser Taxifahrer tatsächlich wieder auf. Meine Wut verblasste etwas, aber ich war immer noch sauer. Der Wachmann rief wieder bei den Grenzbeamten an um alles okay zu melden, ermahnte mich aber sicher zu gehen dass noch alles in den Koffern ist. Es wäre nicht neu, wenn etwas Wertvolles rausgenommen worden wäre. Zum Glück war nichts rausgenommen worden, aber ich fauchte den Taxifahrer trotzdem an dass er nicht einfach ne viertel Stunde abhauen könnte ohne uns Bescheid zu sagen, zumal wie nur kurz die Fotos angucken waren. Er hätte ja nur ein Sandwich geholt… er lachte und bleckte die Zähne. Er war mir immer noch unsympathisch.
Im Laufe der Fahrt wurde ich wieder etwas lockerer. Der Taxifahrer erzählte uns von seiner Familie, von denen alle bis auf einen Sohn in der Tourismusbranche arbeiten. Sein Bruder fährt auch Taxi, seine Frau putzt in unserem Hotel, seine Tochter organisiert Tagestouren… „Siehst Du, so einer betrügt einen doch nicht…“, sagte mein Vater. Er konnte schon wieder laut über den Vorfall lachen, ich noch nicht. Am Flughafen angekommen luden wir unsere Sachen aus und der Taxifahrer erhielt sein Geld. Das Trinkgeld fiel, auch wenn mein Vater schon wieder lachen konnte, knapp aus. Die Fahrt war aber ja auch kürzer gewesen, da wir nicht die 1,5 Stunden Tour gemacht hatten. Mit übertriebener Sorgfalt öffnete der Taxifahrer alle Türen, schaute unter die Sitze und fragte ob wir auch nichts vergessen hätten. Für mich war das Getue einfach nur noch suspekt und verdächtig. Nennt mich einen Angsthasen oder panisch, ich war froh als ich mit einem Kaffee in der Hand in der Abflughalle saß.

(Morgen erscheint Teil 4.)

Teil 2: Abenteuer im Drei-Länder-Eck

2010-10-20T13:00:00.001-02:00

(Gestern wurde Teil 1 veröffentlicht. Bitte Teil 1 zuerst lesen!)

Für den nächsten Tag hatte die Reiseleitung (also ich) die Wahl offen gelassen. Nachdem wir auf dem Ausguck über das 3-Länder-Eck und die beiden Grenzflüsse waren konnten wir entweder die brasilianische Seite der Fälle besuchen, die nicht so spektakulär aber auch sehr schön sein sollte, oder (vielleicht auch ein bisschen des Stempels und der 3-Länder-in-3-Tagen Story) nach Paraguay rüber zufahren um sich das auch mal anzuschauen und im Mona Lisa Shoppingcenter, von dem meine brasilianischen Kollegen auf Grund der „spottbilligen Preise“ schwärmten, ein bisschen einkaufen zu gehen.
Meine Mutter fand die Idee Paraguay zu sehen interessant und so saßen wir kurz darauf in einem Taxi. Um nicht durch Brasilien durchreisen zu müssen, nahmen wir die etwas teurere Route: Mit der Fähre. Die Autofähre fuhr ein Stück den Rio Iguazu, zwischen Brasilien und Argentinien, hinunter und überquerte dann den Rio Paraná (der Paraguay sowohl von Argentinien als auch von Brasilien trennt). Die Fahrt dauerte nicht sehr viel länger als wenn man mit der Fähre den Rhein überquert, aber wir landeten in einer anderen Welt. Schon auf der Fähre sahen wir lauter Kleinbusse, beladen mit Zwiebeln, Bier und Mehl. „Eben alles was in Argentinien billiger ist und in Paraguay schwer zu bekommen“, kommentierte unser Taxifahrer Daniel Ferrer, der wohl deutscher aussah als wir selbst (er hatte, wie wir erfuhren eine Deutsche Mutter).
Wer von euch die Auswanderer auf VOX gesehen hat, die nach Paraguay abgedüst sind (und nach ihrer Ankunft aufgeregt in die Kamera sagten „Oh mein Gott, das ist ja ein dritte Welt land hier!!! …wie ist denn eigentlich der Wechselkurs zum Euro?“) hätte die Landschaft wieder erkannt: Ungeteerte Straßen, Pferde und Kühe die fröhlich im Dorf spazieren gehen, alte Opas die mit dem Bier in der Hand vorm zerfallenen, fensterlosen Haus sitzen, und Wäsche die zum trocknen auf dem (Stacheldraht-)Zaun hängt. „Nein“, bestätigte auch Daniel, „abends würde ich hier nicht allein lang fahren… manchmal verschwinden auch Kinder. Tagsüber ist Paraguay ein Land zum einkaufen, um 4 Uhr ist keiner mehr auf der Straße… die Kriminalität geht bis zum Organhandel“.

Angekommen in der Stadt Ciudad del Este fielen meinem Vater als erstes einmal die vielen Autos ohne Nummernschilder auf. Auf Versicherungen werde kein Wert gelegt, erzählte und Daniel, und wenn er als Argentinier ein Auto aus Paraguay ankatschen würde so würde er zahlen müssen. Würde sein Auto von einem anderen angefahren aber wohl auch, denn die Polizei interessiere dies nicht da sie mit den Verbrechern unter einer Decke stecke und er als Ausländer habe da eh wenig Rechte. Kam mir bekannt vor. Ich erinnerte mich an die Tatsache dass ich in Brasilien auch Schuld am Unfall hatte, weil ich Ausländerin war.
Nicht viel später parkten wir das Taxi auf einem „sicheren“ Parkplatz. Ob man nicht direkt bis zum Shopping Center fahren könnte, fragte ich. Nein, er könne sein Auto ja nicht „irgendwo“ stehen lassen, erklärte mir unser Fahrer. Also stapften wir durch die mit mobilen Ständen und Menschen überfüllten Straßen Ciudad del Estes und ganz wohl war mir bei der Sache nicht. Hinter mir hörte ich meinen Vater sagen „Ich trau’ mich hier gar nicht ein Foto zu machen…“ Nein, besser nicht, dachte ich mir, aber schon in dem Moment hörte ich meine Mutter: „Ach, da kenn ich nix!“ Ich dreht mich um und da stand sie, mitten auf der chaotischen Straße, einen Arm weit von sich gestreckt und den kleinen Fotoapparat locker in der Hand, nicht einmal das Bändel ums Handgelenk geschlungen. Ich werde ihr dankbar sein für dieses Foto wenn es in meinem Reisealbum landet, so wie für viele Fotos die sie in meinem Leben gemacht hat, ganz vorne in der ersten Reihe stehend und mit extra gutem Blitz wenn es mir am liebsten gewesen wäre sie säße ganz hinten und würde bloß kein Aufheben um meine Person machen. Aber ich konnte Mama in dem Moment nicht anders als sie laut anzufahren, den Fotoapparat wegzustecken. Sicherlich bestand für sie in all dem Chaos keine Gefahr, aber vor meinem inneren Auge sah ich schon einen Mopedfahrer vorbeibrausen und die Kamera schnappen. Das wäre schade um die Fotos der letzten Woche gewesen und auch schade um den Apparat. „Jajaja, ich pack’s ja schon weg…“ sagte sie mit halb erschrockenem, halb frechem Gesicht.
Angekommen am Shoppingcenter verabredeten wir uns mit unserem Taxifahrer für 1,5 Stunden später. Es wurde uns schnell klar, dass die Lobhudelei der sensationellen Preise durch meine brasilianischen Kollegen für Europäer keineswegs zutraf. Die Produkte waren zwar rund ein Drittel (im Falle WII sogar 75%) billiger als in Brasilien, aber in Deutschland oder den USA ist es dennoch wesentlich günstiger. Trotzdem fanden wir zwei Schnäppchen: Ein flaschengrünes Lacoste Poloshirt für meinen Papa und eine lila Kapuzenjacke von Puma für mich. Dann setzten wir uns in ein Café, tranken ein Wasser, aßen ein Sandwich und beobachteten wie die brasilianische Schickeria Designerwaren auswählte. „Aber der da ist kein Brasilianer“, meine Mama zeigte auf einen dicken Herrn mit goldener Rolex, „guck, der hat da die paraguayische Flagge auf dem Hemd!“ – „Das ist nicht die Flagge von Paraguay, Mama… das ist die Flagge von Tommy Hilfiger!“ – „Oh…“

Wieder sicher und heil auf der Fähre angekommen musste ich etwas enttäuscht feststellen, dass wir in Paraguay an der Grenze gar keine Stempel in unsere Pässe bekommen hatten. „Paraguay… es Paraguay.“, war der Kommentar unseres Taxifahrers dazu. Aber was soll’s. Wir hatten einen spannenden Tag und können behaupten in 3 Tagen 3 Länder in Südamerika besichtigt zu haben.
Den Rest des Tages verbrachten wir halb dösend oder lesend am Pool des Hotels. Wie schön wenn man sich von einem Abenteuer so luxuriös erholen kann.

Zum Abendessen waren wir in einem superschönen Lokal wo mein Vater ersteinmal kurz über die Preise schockiert war, bis er bemerkte dass man ja von Peso zu Euro durch etwas mehr als 5 teilen muss, und nicht durch etwas mehr als zwei wie beim Brasilianischen Real. Die Portionen, gerade das Fleisch, waren allerdings dennoch so gewaltig, dass man sich locker zu zweit etwas hätte teilen können.

(Morgen erscheint Teil 3. Da ich nur die Fotos aus dem Naturpark Iguazu besitze, werden die anderen in ein paar Wochen nachgereicht)

Mama und Papa zu Besuch! - Teil 1: Ankunft und Wasserfälle

2010-10-19T14:45:00.003-02:00

Meine Eltern sind am Vormittag des 08. Oktober, mit ein wenig Verspätung, in Goiânia gelandet. Eigentlich hätte ich an dem Tag ein Seminar zu sicherem und vorrausschauendem Autofahren gehabt, was ich aber abgesagt hatte um den Consultant des Zertifizierungsprogramms nachmittags in einer anderen Stadt abzuholen und zum Flughafen zu fahren. Diese Fahrerei wurde zwar auch wieder abgesagt (der Consultant wurde bis in mein Büro gebracht) aber ironischer Weise wurde ich als ich nicht beim Seminar war sondern meine Eltern abholte an einer roten Ampel geblitzt. Eine rote Ampel zu überfahren ins in Brasilien eigentlich manchmal sogar normal. In Deutschland ist es grober Unfug. In beiden Ländern ist es aber, wenn man geblitzt wird sehr teuer. Währen man in Deutschland noch eine Reaktionszeit mit einbezieht, wird hier geblitzt sobald die Ampel von Gelb auf Rot springt, selbst wenn man nur noch mit dem Hinterreifen über die Induktionsschleife rutscht. Genau deshalb bin ich mit so was auch eigentlich besonders vorsichtig und wenn ich die Blitze sehe stehe ich meist schon bei Gelb. Dummerweise aber nicht dieses Mal. Ich habe nicht einmal gesehen dass es eine Ampel gab. Ein LKW der vor mir fuhr verdeckte die Sicht auf die hängende, auf der anderen Straßenseite befestigte, Laterne und somit sah ich das rote Leuchten erst direkt über meinem Kopf als ich schon längst über die Kreuzung war. Ich bin ja mal gespannt ob was ankommt.
Der Freitag war noch ganz relaxt. Wir sind erstmal nach Hause um zu duschen und dem Wetter angemessene (kürzere) Kleidung anzuziehen und dann haben wir mit meiner Kollegin Sthela zu Mittag gegessen. Danach konnten meine Eltern ein Nickerchen machen während ich unseren Consultant in Empfang nahm, mit ihm die vergangene Woche durchsprach und ihn dann, an der unsäglichen, versteckten Ampel vorbei, zum Flughaften brachte. Abends mussten meine Eltern sich dann meinen Gesangsunterricht antun… Ich war so nervös, dass ich kaum einen Ton raus brachte und selbst das Aufwärmen der Stimme musste drei oder vier Töne früher (tiefer) beendet werden als normal. Oh je.

Samstag und Sonntag haben wir uns erstmal die Gegend (selbstverständlich und zum Verdruss meines Vaters inklusive Shopping Center) angeschaut. Sie haben ein bisschen was von dem Land zu sehen bekommen, dass ich während meiner Arbeit so durchfahre und wir waren, mit vielen anderen Wochenendausflüglern, an einem Wasserfall mit Badesee versteckt in den Hügeln von Pirénopolis. Dazu ein bisschen relaxen auf dem Balkon, ausgiebig mit vielen Früchten frühstücken und im Park Kokosnüsse schlürfen.

Am Montag ging es dann richtig los. Früh aufstehen und über Sao Paulo Guarulhos nach Foz do Iguacu, im Drei-Länder-Eck von Südamerika. In Sao Paulo hatten wir einige Stunden Aufenthalt, aber das war gar nicht so schlimm. Denn währen eine goldene American Express Card in Deutschland, Europa, gar nichts Besonderes ist, hat man in Brasilien damit Zutritt zu speziellen American Express Lounges. So konnten wir unsere Zeit mit gutem Kaffee, Internet, oder lesend auf dem Sofa vertrödeln.

Von Foz do Iguacu aus (Brasilien) hat uns dann ein Taxi nach Puerto Iguazu (Argentinien) gefahren, wo ich uns ein schönes Hotel mit kleinen Apartment Bungalows reserviert hatte. Die Grenzüberquerung per Taxi war kein Problem, dennoch wurde mir klar wie froh wir über das Schengener Abkommen und die stempelfreie Herumreiserei in Europa sein können… Angekommen und eingerichtet machten wir uns auf den Weg das Städtchen (mit gerade einmal 45.000 Einwohnern wesentlich kleiner als das mit 300.000 Einwohnern belebtere, aber auch kriminellere Foz do Iguacu). Es dauerte ein Weilchen bis wir eine Bank gefunden hatten. Danach wussten wir irgendwie nicht so Recht und waren außerdem durstig, so dass wir uns kurzer Hand auf die Veranda eines Restaurants gesetzt haben um etwas zu trinken. Hier blieben wir dann auch noch zum Abendessen und fielen dann relativ früh ins Bett um rechtzeitig aufzustehen um zu den Wasserfällen zu fahren.

Nachdem Frühstück stoppten wir den Bus „El Practico“ direkt an der Straße vor unserem Hotel und stiegen etwa 45 Minuten später, nach einer rasanten Fahrt, vor dem Eingang des Naturparks wieder aus. Schnell waren wir am einzigen Kartenschalter angekommen. Wie sich herausstellte konnte man dort aber nicht mir Karte bezahlen sondern nur und ausschließlich mit Pesos. Und weit und breit keine Bank. Wie sich aber dann herausstellte, befindet sich im Park ein Bankautomat und würde ich meine ID hinterlegen könnte ich auch durchgehen und Geld abheben. Ich trabte also los, mit meiner brasilianischen EC Karte in der Hand, fand nach einigem Suchen die Bank und war endlich an der Reihe. „Sie haben eine ungültige Aktion gewählt. Wollen Sie eine andere Aktion durchführen?“ – Meine Karte funktionierte nicht. Ein häufiges Problem in Südamerika, dass Karten mal hier und mal da funktionieren, aber in diesem Moment, an der einzigen Bank weit und breit, hatte ich nicht damit gerechnet. Ich ging also wieder zurück. Meine Mutter hatte nur ihre Kreditkarte dabei und wusste die PIN nicht, das war also auch keine Option. Zum Glück hatte mein Vater aber noch eine EC Karte der Sparkasse Köln/Bonn in der Tasche, mit der das Abheben glückte. Endlich hatten wir Pesos, und da ich in Brasilien lebe bekam ich sogar noch einen Rabatt von etwa 50%. Leicht verspätet traten wir in den Park und machten uns auf die Suche nach den Fällen.
Schon auf den ersten paar Metern kam uns eine ganze Familie Coatis [Ko-Ah-Tihs] entgegen. Die tagaktiven, aus der Familie der Waschbären stammenden Tiere sollten uns noch öfter begegnen, allerdings nicht mehr als Familie im Wald sondern unter die Touristen gemischt die auf Plastikstühlchen in der Nähe der Snackbar sitzen: Die Tiere, wie die Nordamerikanischen Waschbären auch, kramen gern im Müll und mögen „Menschenfutter“ so sehr, dass sie dafür sogar kratzen und beißen würden.
Die Wasserfälle wurden von mal zu mal schöner und imposanter und die schiere Masse des Wassers (1500 Badewannen voll pro Sekunde) die über den Rand der mehr als 150 kleinen und großen Wasserfälle fiel war wunderschön anzuschauen. Wir verbrachten den ganzen Tag im Park und sahen zum krönenden Abschluss den Teufelsschlund „Garganta del Diablo“, den größten Wasserfall des Iguazu Flusses. Iguazu kommt übrigens aus der lokalen Indianersprache und heißt so viel wie „großes Wasser“. Kann man so unterschreiben, denke ich…

(Teil 2 erscheint morgen. Fotos kommen heute Abend noch nach)

USA

2010-09-18T17:39:00.006-03:00

Jaja, ich weiss, eigentlich habt ihr es alles satt zu lesen wie gut es mir geht und wie toll alles ist. Dummerweise muss ich noch einen draufsetzen: Die 10 Tage Urlaub mit meinen MBA-bffs Amber und Kaoru waren total genial und den Reisestress absolut wert. Aus vielerlei Gründen und gewillt möglichst viele MBA Kollegen zu treffen, Cirque de Soleil's KÁ zu sehen, und ausserdem in Texas einen Truthahn zu frittieren kamen wir dazu die USA mehr oder weniger zweimal zu überqueren um alles unter einen Hut zu bringen.
Wir trafen alle mit unterschiedlichen Flügen aber mehr oder weniger zur gleichen Zeit am Samstag in Las Vegas ein (Kaoru aus Tokyo, Amber aus Austin und ich aus Goiânia), haben uns in Las Vegas köstlich amüsiert, am Pool gelegen, in Clubs bis zum umfallen gefeiert, eine tolle Show gesehen und ganz nebenbei noch alle drei (ein bisschen) Geld gewonnen.
Danach ging es ab nach Washington. Eine Stadt die mich beeindruckt hat. Wirklich schön und sauber und recht klein. Es gab viel zu sehen, und für Kaoru und mich viel zu fotografieren. Ausserdem konnten wir Ricardo, Julianna, Paul, André und Fanny treffen, die ich alle seit der Graduation Party in Madrid (Dezember 2008) nicht gesehen hatte.
Zu guter letzt mussten wir natürlich noch nach Austin, Texas, um Amber's neue Wohnung zu sehen, in riesigen Schwimmreifen stundenlang den Fluss abzufahren, und nicht zu letzt bei Amber's Patentante einen "kleinen" Truthahn zu frittieren. Amber's Familie selbst hatte das noch nie gemacht, aber nachdem Amber in Madrid so viel vom frittierten Vogel ihrer Tante erzählte und mir, dem Küchensklave bei den Vorbereitungen des Madrider Thanksgivings, versprochen hatte dass "sollte ich jemals Fuss in Texas setzen, ich einen frittierten Truthahn serviert bekomme", musste Wort gehalten werden. Tom, Ambers Vater, hat sich also vom Schwager alles genau erklären lassen und für uns flux einen Truthahn in siedendes Erdnussöl getaucht. Und, was soll ich sagen, frittierter Truthahn kann sich sehen lassen!

Über die Reise selbst könnte ich wohl Romane schreiben. Wer Amber, Kaoru und mich kennt wird ahnen, dass wir die drei Städte nicht geschont haben. Und uns auch nicht. Ein Marathon quer durch die USA (ich habe sogar den Grand Canyon gesehen, wenn auch nur von oben aus dem Flugzeug). Genaueres folgt, in Bildern:

Kafka, die Zweite! - Autofahren

2010-09-02T05:00:00.000-03:00

Ich weiss nicht ob sich noch jemand erinnert, aber letztes Jahr um diese Zeit habe ich einen Blogpost veröffentlicht, in dem ich die gewagte (wirklich?) These aufgestellt habe, dass wenn sich jemand die Bürokratie Brasiliens geplant und ausgedacht hat, dann müsse das wohl Kafka höchst persönlich gewesen sein. Damals ging es um einen Fernseher, heute geht es um mein Auto und meinen Führerschein.

In Deutschland läuft ein Führerschein ja erstmal gar nicht ab. Es ist ja nicht mal ein wiederholter Sehtest in hohem Alter vorgeschrieben, wobei das ja womöglich sogar noch sinnvoll wäre. Hier läuft der Führerschein, je nach Status des Inhabers, nach ein bis ein paar Jahren (mehr oder weniger willkürlich gewählt) ab und muss für viel Geld (Papierkram, Tests, und Co.) verlängert werden.
Ich hatte bisher ein kleines Papierchen aus Sao Paulo welches besagt ich dürfe mit meinem Deutschen Führerschein Autofahren. Dies zu bekommen war kein Akt: Übersetzung des Führerscheins einreichen, Schnipsel abholen, fertig. Der war ein halbes Jahr gültig und wurde daher im Dezember, in Sao Paulo, ohne Probleme verlängert. Was schloss ich daraus? Dass ich im Juni wieder nach Sao Paulo fahre und wieder ohne Probleme verlängere. Doch weit gefehlt! So bekam ich also am Abend vor meinem Termin (der, wie passend, am vorletzten Tag des Ablaufdatums lag) eine e-mail die besagte dass das ja alles so gar nicht richtig sei, denn ich sei ja nun schon ein Jahr in Brasilien, und wenn man ein Jahr da ist, braucht man den brasilianische (Original-)Führerschein und den bekäme ich nicht in Sao Paulo sondern in Goiânia, wo ich nun mal wohne. Gut, das ist ja erstmal nicht so schlimm. Dachte ich. Aber dann wurde mir der Prozess (am Telefon) erklärt:

1.) Dokumente sammeln. Da die Systeme der Verkehrsämter nicht verbunden sind, sind die Dokumente die ich in Sao Paulo abgegeben habe nicht in Goiânia im System. Ich muss also alles neu einhändigen. Legalisierte Kopien von Pass, brasilianischer ID, Steuernummer, Führerschein und Co. Sowie eine notariell beglaubigte Übersetzung meines Führerscheins. Die Übersetzung, so wusste ich, existierte schon in der Personalabteilung in Sao Paulo, also habe ich die Praktikantin in der Abteilung für Expats angerufen und sie gebeten es mir mit dem „Malote“ (wörtlich Köfferchen, einer Tasche die morgens von Sao Paulo mit dem ersten Flug nach Goiânia kommt, und abends mit dem letzten wieder zurück fliegt) schicken, damit es am nächsten Morgen da ist. Die Gute hat es dummerweise in der Post eingetütet, so dass es erstmal ne Woche dauerte.
2.) Dokumente beim Verkehrsamt vorlegen. Klingt einfach, isses aber nicht. Nach einigem Fragen saß ich endlich in einem Raum mit vielen Wartenden, ein Nümmerchen in der Hand. Als ich endlich dran war, sagt mir die nette Dame ich sei leider falsch. Hier könnte ich den Führerschein nur beantragen. Dazu müsste aber zunächst ein Prozess gestartet und meine Dokumente akzeptiert werden. Zunächst wurde ich also in ein kleines Büro geschickt, wo jemand anhand der selben Liste die ich mir per Telefon besorgt hatte eins zu eins raussuchte ob ich auch alle Kopien habe. Ich nehme an dass ist so was wie bei uns der schlechteste 1-Euro Job. Danach wurde ich in ein Büro geschickt wo ich den Prozess starten solle. Ich bekam ein Blatt wo ich brav noch mal alle Informationen die auf meinen Kopien sind eintragen sollte, um dann abzuzeichnen dass ich alle Kopien beigelegt habe. Das gab ich dann einer netten Sekretärin, die mich fragte ob ich schon beim Typ nebenan war und auch alle Kopien hätte die er auf der Liste hätte. Ich bejahte dies und sie „startete meinen Prozess“. Das heisst zu Deutsch: Sie hat alle meine Kopien und den Fragebogen lieblos zusammen getackert, ein Label mit meinem Namen und einer 6-stelligen Nummer ausgedruckt, dieses draufgeklebt, ein zweites Label gedruckt, auf einen post-it Zettel geklebt und mir als „Prozess Protokoll“ in die Hand gedrückt. In etwa einer Woche (zu Deutsch: eher mehr, vielleicht zwei, schauen wir mal, nix genaues weiss man nicht) könne ich die Service Nummer anrufen und fragen ob meine Dokumente akzeptiert seien.
So weit bin ich bis jetzt. Es ist noch nichts akzeptiert… Aber immerhin hat sich jetzt mal die Service Firma gemeldet, die von Bayer bezahlt wird um mir bei so was zu helfen. Denen hab ich erstmal erzählt dass ich 3 Wochen nach meiner Anfrage keine Hilfe mehr brauche, da ich dass schneller und billiger allein hinkriege. Das sind die natürlich nicht gewohnt gewesen und haben sich entschuldigt, waren aber offensichtlich beleidigt. Mir egal, mit denen hat ich eh immer nur Ärger.
3.) Sobald dann aber (vielleicht, oder auch nicht) meine Kopien als echt und für gut befunden werden, kann ich mir einen neuen Zettel abholen. Damit kann ich dann zum Sehtest (mal schaun wie ich da durchkommen soll… da werden beide Augen auch einzeln getestet. Prost Mahlzeit). Nach dem Sehtest muss ich zum Psychologischen Test. Dann muss ich auf die Dokumente warten. Dann eine Nummer ziehen, die Dokumente einreichen, und hoffentlich endlich den Führerschein beantragen. Dann wieder warten. Achso, bezahlen muss man natürlich noch vorher. Jeden Test einzeln und dann noch die Beantragung. Passender Weise gibt es Geldautomaten von allen großen Banken, denn man kann nur Cash bezahlen (womöglich auch dadurch zu erklären dass die Preise je nach Person und deren Gefallen am Antragssteller die Preise zum schwanken bringen). Dann aber wirklich wieder warten. Wie lange weiss ich nicht. Will mir auch gar keiner erzählen.
4.) Dann muss ich wieder zum Verkehrsamt und ein Foto machen (muss man speziell da machen und natürlich auch sofort Cash bezahlen). Das schicke Portrait wird dann auf einen leicht zu fälschenden grünen Wisch geklebt, der eine Woche Gültigkeit hat. Es ist der vorläufige Führerschein.
5.) Eine Woche später (Mehr oder weniger. Eher mehr.) kann man dann den richtigen Führerschein abholen: Ein leicht zu fälschender grüner Wisch, aber nicht mit aufgeklebtem sondern mit aufgedrucktem Foto und irgendeinem Siegel. Das ist dann mein brasilianischer Führerschein. Bei Ausländern hat er etwa 1-3 Jahre Gültigkeit (entweder bis Ende Juli, oder Ende Dezember), kommt auch ein bisschen auf das Visum an. Da meins im Juni 2011 ausläuft, reicht das womöglich nicht mehr für einen Führerschein bis Juli 2011 (Dezember schon mal gar nicht). Dann fängt der Quatsch für mich wenn’s schief läuft schon im Dezember wieder von vorne an, aber ich hab Hoffnung dass das doch irgendwie anders läuft. Denn nur weil das so Vorschrift ist, heißt das ja noch lange nicht dass es auch so sein wird. Wir werden sehen.

Ist aber ja alles nicht so schlimm, denn: Autofahren kann ich im Moment eh nicht. Mein Auto ist in der Reparatur. Der Anschnallgurt ist kaputt (geht nicht mehr vor noch zurück) und muss ausgetauscht werden. Da es sich um eine Spätfolge des Unfalls handelt, muss die Versicherung das zahlen. Diese brauchte aber erstmal 4 Tage um den Anspruch auf Reparatur zu klären. Als sie dies dann endlich getan hat, sagt mir der gute Mann von der Werkstatt: Oh, ja dann muss ich jetzt mal gucken ob wir den Gurt überhaupt haben. SERIOUSLY? Das hätte der nicht schon am Montag machen können, als ich ihm meinen VW vorbei gebracht habe? Kommt aber noch besser: Der Gurt für meinen „Parati“ (vergleichbar mit einem älteren Passat und hier absolut KEIN seltenes Auto) ist im Moment bei der ganzen Werkstattkette nicht zu haben und muss erstmal bestellt werden. Dauert wohl so 7 Tage.
Heute rief ich daraufhin wieder an, ob der Gurt denn dann auch morgen da sei und ich mein Auto eventuell am Freitagmorgen abholen könnte. Nein, der Gurt sei noch nicht da und überhaupt hätte die Versicherung ja den Anspruch noch gar nicht geklärt (doch, doch, hatte sie) oder dieser sei noch nicht angekommen.
Die Versicherung hat daraufhin heute alles noch mal geschickt, und mir eine Prozess Nummer geben und es mir in Kopie geschickt. So wurde es mir zu Mindest am Telefon gesagt. Bisher ist bei mir noch nichts angekommen, und auch wann der Gurt erhältlich sei (er sei nirgends auf Lager, die 7 Tage beziehen sich von „Auf Lager“ bis „In Goiania“).

Mensch, ein Sicherheitsgurt! In einer riesigen Werkstatt die ständig Unfallautos repariert! Das kann doch nicht so kompliziert sein! Und wieso kann der Typ nicht selbst mal bei der Versicherung nachhaken, wenn die Kommunikation zwischen deren Systemen nicht klappt?

Wie gut dass ich am Freitag erstmal eine Woche Urlaub hab. Ich hab schon schlecht geträumt letzte Nacht vor lauter Bürokratie und für andere deren Arbeit organisieren. Aber dazu ein andermal mehr.

Tischmanieren

2010-09-01T15:51:00.000-03:00

Ich glaube ich habe schon öfter moniert, dass die Tischmanieren in Brasilien zu wünschen übrig lassen. Und ich rede hier nicht davon, in welcher Reihenfolge das Besteck benutzt wird oder wie man Austern öffnet und Hummer halbiert. Es geht um Kleinigkeiten, die ich gelernt habe zu ignorieren, aber deren tiefe Verankerung in meinem Verhalten sich doch immer wieder bemerkbar macht.

So wünsche ich zum Beispiel „Guten Appetit!“ und ernte fragende Blicke, oder lege mein Besteck auf dem Teller zusammen wenn ich fertig bin und werde tatsächlich gefragt wieso.

Meine Eltern scherzen gerne, dass ich mit 3 Jahren bessere Tischmanieren hatte als heute. Sie erzählen die Geschichte, wie ich als Kleinkind im Restaurant in Spanien schon wusste wie man sich zu benehmen und wie man zu essen hat und dass sogar irgendwer erwähnte wie toll das Kind das alles schon kann.
Zugegeben, wenn es heute Abendbrot zu Hause gibt setze ich schon mal in Gedanken den Ellbogen auf (und werde sogleich von meinem lieben Paps ermahnt, obwohl er höchstwahrscheinlich erst 5 Minuten zuvor noch mit den Ellbogen auf dem Tisch sein Stück Weißbrot über dem Teller zerrissen hat) oder lege, weil ich nicht darüber nachdenke, Messer und Gabel für alle falsch rum hin weil ich das Messer lieber in der linken Hand halte. Aber immer hin weiss ich wie ich Messer und Gabel zu halten habe, auch wenn in der falschen Hand. Ich schliesse meine Hand nicht in einer Faust um das Besteck, halte meine Hände über der Tischplatte und nicht darunter versteckt, und schneide nicht alles schon mal klein um dann nur noch mit der Gabel das Gemüse-Fleisch-Kohlehydrat-Gemisch über den Teller zu schieben bis dieselbige gut gefüllt zum Mund, bzw. der Mund zur Gabel geführt werden kann.
Wobei man sagen muss, dass das Kleinschneiden sämtlicher sich auf dem Teller befindlichen Zutaten in sofern in Brasilien angebracht ist, als dass nun mal alles zusammen und durcheinander gegessen wird. Eine Mittagsportion die sich aus Lasagne, Reis, Bohnen, Fischbällchen, Pommes, Steak, Salat, Früchten und frittiertem Käse zusammensetzt ist keine Seltenheit und die Explosion der Aromen scheint nur dann perfekt wenn man alles durcheinander isst. Hab ich mir zu Mindest sagen lassen, denn auch wenn ich großer Fan von „untereinander“-Gerichten bin (mein Favorit: Kartoffeln und Möhren untereinander) geht mir das dann doch zu weit.

Aber ich schweife ab, denn wie gesagt, dass sind alles Dinge an die man sich gewöhnen kann. Andere Länder andere Sitten. Das einzige was ich wirklich nicht akzeptieren kann, ist das beim essen nicht gewartet wird.

Wer sitzt, fängt an zu essen. Beim Mittagessen mit Buffet ist also der erste schon fertig wenn der letzte der Gruppe an den Tisch kommt. Das geht soweit, dass bei meiner Freundin zu Hause die Mutter noch nichts gegessen hat wenn alle fertig sind, weil sie dafür zuständig ist alle zu servieren und der erste ja schon fertig ist wenn der letzte seinen Teller gereicht bekommen hat, und dann muss ja sofort die zweite Runde losgehen. Selbst wenn alles auf dem Tisch steht serviert sich der Vater nicht selbst sondern fragt seine Frau, die womöglich noch aufstehen und um den Tisch laufen muss um zu servieren. Und wenn dann endlich alle was haben und sie sich setzt und auch isst, stehen alle auf sobald sie fertig sind. Lassen alles stehen und liegen und gehen Fernsehen. Dann kann sie allein zu Ende essen, aufräumen und spülen.

Selbst im Fernsehen, in der neuen Werbung für tolles Wunderpulver welches Tiefkühlbohnen beim kochen die Farbe zurück gibt, nutzt diesen Umstand. Die Tochter und der Vater kommen mittags durch die Tür und strahlen die Mutter an, wie gut es riecht und wie toll die Bohnen aussehen. Die Mutter sagt daraufhin sie schmeckten sogar sehr gut, man solle nur den Sohn ansehen der schon aufgegessen hat. Der Teller sei leer geputzt. Daraufhin serviert die Mutter Tochter und Vater das essen und geht zurück in die Küche und sagt sie käme dann auch gleich zum essen. Tochter und Vater hauen rein, und dann kommt ein Schnitt zur tollen Marke und dem Werbeslogan.

In fast allen Werbespots für Gerichte ist es so ähnlich. Haltet mich für spießig, aber jedes Mal wenn ich diese Werbung oder ähnliche Werbung sehe fällt mir das auf und ich frage mich warum hier nie zusammen am Tisch gegessen wird, bzw. nicht richtig zusammen.

Tischmanieren sind wohl kulturelle Güter, so fest verankert dass man sich schämt wenn andere sich so daneben benehmen. Kulturelle Güter, so fest verankert, dass man das sich zusammen reissen muss um den Mund zu halten und nicht zu versuchen Erwachsene Menschen, mit anderen Werten wenn es um Tischmanieren geht, schnell noch umzuerziehen. (Und das bei meinem sowieso schon starken Drang des Besserwissens! Stellt euch vor!).

Ich bemühe mich also, mich zu benehmen und mich anzupassen, meine Tischmanieren zu handhaben wie ich sie gelernt habe aber mir nicht anmerken zu lassen dass mir was gegen den Strich geht.
Mein „Guten Appetit!“ werde ich allerdings nicht los. Sobald ich Messer und Gabel in die Hand nehme, sage ich automatisch „Guten Appetit!“ so wie man nach dem Aufstehen „Guten Morgen!“ wünscht und zum zu Bett gehen eine „Gute Nacht!“.
Ich nutze dies dann geschickt, um zu erklären dass man sich in Deutschland „Guten Appetit“ wünscht wenn alle gemeinsam anfangen zu essen. Vielleicht kann ich den ein oder anderen ja doch noch davon überzeugen…

Dinge

2010-08-18T16:30:00.001-03:00

BRIC Staat, Globalisierung, Expat Communities und mehr. Ausländer sein kann trotzdem manchmal schwer sein, weil Dinge fehlen. Dinge die vorher einfach waren, Dinge denen man mit fast schon nihilistischer Gleichgültigkeit begegnet ist, Dinge, die eigentlich gar keine Dinge sondern Situationen, Situationen, die eigentlich gar keine Situationen sind sondern Augenblicke, Augenblicke, die Heimat bedeuten obwohl man sie zuvor nie wahrgenommen hat.
Es sind die Dinge, die man vermisst und auf die man sich freut wenn man ankommt, zurückkommt, und wach ist und gelehrt sie zu bemerken.

Spricht man darüber was man im fremden Land, fern der Heimat vermisst, so fallen einem Kölsch ein, oder Mettbrötchen, danach vielleicht Sicherheit, Organisation, die Autobahn, schnell schiebt man noch ein „und natürlich meine Freunde und Familie“ hinterher. Aber all das ist es nicht, was ich meine.

Ich meine den Klang eines Biergartens im Sommer.
Ich meine die gemeinsame Stille die nach jahrelanger Freundschaft ihre Peinlichkeit verloren hat.
Ich meine das „Mitreden können“ wenn Kinderserien und –Lieder zitiert werden.
Ich meine den Duft der Luft nach einem Sommergewitter.
Ich meine die aufgewirbelten Blätter im Herbstwind.
Ich meine das Klingeln einer Fahrradklingel auf dem Radweg.
Ich meine das Vogelgezwitscher das man hört, wenn im Sommer spät die Sonne untergeht.
Jahreszeiten.
Ich meine die Ruhe kurz bevor der erste Schnee fällt.
Ich meine die Soundkulisse der Muttersprache in einer Menschenmenge.
Ich meine die Vertrautheit von Bäumen und Pflanzen, selbst an unbekannten Orten.
Ich meine den Geruch einer Bäckerei am Sonntag Nachmittag.
Ich meine das Klacken des Zeigers einer Bahnhofsuhr an einem leeren Bahnsteig.
Ich meine die Vertrautheit die in der Luft liegt und einen bestärkt.

Ich meine, Papa in den Arm nehmen zu können wenn er eine traurige Nachricht überbringt anstatt sprachlos und traurig am Telefon zu sitzen, auf der anderen Seite der Welt.

Raubüberfall

2010-08-06T23:17:00.002-03:00

Von der Liste der aufregenden Erlebnisse Südamerikas kann ich nun wieder eins streichen. Und nein, ich rede nicht von den 3 Wochen Konferenz mit 20 bierbäuchigen Kollegen, obwohl auch dass eine Rubrik verdient hätte... Nein, nein. Ich bin tatsächlich überfallen worden. Und dass nicht allein, sonder zusammen mit Mari und Alessa.

Aber ich sollte von vorne anfangen.

Alessa und Mari haben letzten Freitag (30.06.2010) ihre diesjährige Backpacking Reise angetreten. Auf dem Programm stehen Brasilien / Paraguay / Bolivien / Argentinien, oder was davon eben möglich sein wird in 5 Wochen.
Der Flug ging zunächst nach Rio de Janeiro, da musste ich also natürlich auch hin. Ich liebe Rio, und dann am Wochenende, und mIt Alessa und Mari, das lässt man sich ja nicht entgehen.
Um 18h hab ich die beiden also am Flughafen in Empfang genommen und dann gings mit dem Taxi einmal quer durch die Stadt nach Humaitá zu meinen wunderbaren IE Kumpels Rafael und Rodrigo, die so lieb waren uns ihr Gästezimmer anzubieten. Wir waren dann noch etwas trinken, mit Blick auf Rio's Marina, und dann ging es auch bald ins Bett denn jet lag, Arbeit und Co. hatten ihre Opfer gefordert.
War aber auch besser so, denn am nächsten Tag sind wir schon früh aufgestanden um zur Christus Statue auf dem Corcovado zu fahren. Wir haben Tickets für 11h bekommen und hatten von oben eine super Aussicht... also, nachdem wir uns durch die Massen gekämpft hatten... :D
Danach sind wir nach Leblon, dem wohl sichersten reichen nicht-touristischem Stadtteil mit schönem Strand direkt neben Ipanema. Von dort haben wir uns in Etappen fortbewegt: Füße ins Wasser, im Sand sitzen, spazieren, auf der Promenade sitzen, einen Caipi trinken, Füße ins Wasser, noch einen Caipi trinken, spazieren, ... bis wir in Ipanema waren. Rodrigo und Rafa waren zu einer Hochzeit gefahren und wollten erst Sonntag nachmittag wiederkommen, also sind wir heim, haben uns umgezogen und sind was essen gegangen und haben gequascht. Ein relaxter schöner Tag.

Genauso wollte wir am nächsten Tag natürlich auch weitermachen, aber da kam wohl was dazwischen. Nach dem Frühstück wollten wir uns in Rio's Zentrum die auf der Touristenkarte gepriesene Kirche und das Theater angucken. Ich hatte am Abend vorher schonmal drüber nachgedacht ob ins Zentrum zu fahren wohl so eine gute Idee sei, da es Sonntags da total leer ist (es sitzen hauptsächlich Banken und große Bürokomplexe dort), aber dann konnte ich mir auch wiederum nicht vorstellen dass die Kirche inklusive der Messe Zeiten im Lonelyplanet und der Tourikarte stehen, ohne Warnung, wenns da gefährlich wär. Ich ging davon aus dass da wohl Security ist. Und ne Menge Touris halt.
Es waren aber nur ne Handvoll Leute da. In der Kirche eine Familie mit Kindern, auf der Straße ein paar Jugendliche. Und dann sind wir statt links rum geradeaus gelaufen, in der Annahme aus der Richtung seien wir auch gekommen. Schon nach 20 Metern war uns klar dass dem nicht so ist, aber da wars eigentlich auch schon zu spät. Wir haben umgedreht und sind zurück gelaufen, und da wurden Mari und Alessa von hinten von zwei Kerlen angefallen. Ich hab erstmal nur Lärm gehört und mich gewundert dass die Mädels nicht mehr neben mir stehen und als ich mich umdrehte sah ich auch warum. Ich dachte echt dass kann nicht wahr sein.
Am Ende hatte Alessa ihre Tasche noch, weil der Henkel abgerissen war und es dem Dieb zu lange dauerte, wohl auch weil ich auf portugiesisch sagte "Jungs, macht keinen Quatsch, in den Taschen ist nichts wichtiges drin. Was soll denn das.". Maris Tasche aber war weg, und mit ihr Kamera, Strandtuch, Bikini, Sonnencreme, und rund 30 Euro. Alles ersetzbar aber der Schock saß tief, da der Kerl Mari nicht mal die Zeit gelassen hatte die Tasche freiwillig herzugeben (was sie selbstverständlich getan hätte denn der Arsch hatte irgendwas in der Hand, wohl ein Messer) und der Lederriemen aber nicht riss, hatte Mari geschwollene rote Stellen am Nacken. Es ging alles sehr schnell und schon 15 Minuten später war das geschehene total weit weg. Ich weiss noch was der Typ für ein T-Shirt anhatte, aber das ist auch alles.
Wir sind dann schnell wieder zur Hauptstraße, wo auch zwei Männer an einem Sprinter standen die uns gesehen und gehört haben mussten aber da greift in Rio natürlich niemand ein, und nur 2 Meter weiter bog eine Gruppe Leute um die Ecke um genau dort langzugehen wo wir grad überfallen wurde, mit dem Blackberry und dem Telefon locker in der Hand als könnte nix passieren. Ich sagte noch zur der Frau sie solle da nicht lang gehen, wir seien grad ausgeraubt worden, aber sie hat nur ungläubig geguckt und ist die Straße runtergelaufen.

Wir haben dann das nächste Taxi an die Copacabana genommen und statt sightseeing lieber den Tag am Strand verbracht. Schwimmen, Bier, Sand. Das hat geholfen.
Am Abend hab ich die beiden dann zum Busbahnhof gebracht wo sie Richtung Pantanal weiter gefahren sind. Ich bin zum Flughafen und wieder zurück zur Konferenz nach Sao Paulo.

Schon am Montag erschien das Wochenende wie ein Traum. Nun ist es Freitag und schon wieder total weit weg.
Komisch.

Wo ist bloss der Juni hin?

2010-07-01T21:53:00.003-03:00

Wenn mich heute jemand geweckt hätte, mit den Worten ich hätte den Juni nur geträumt, ich würde es glauben.
Da sagen einem die Eltern schon als i-Dötzchen dass die Zeit immer schneller laufen wird, das Geburtstage und Sommerferien gar nicht mehr so lange auf sich warten lassen werden, aber glauben tut man es doch nicht.
Und auch wenn ich mittlerweile gelernt habe, dass sie Recht haben, dass man mehr zu tun hat, weniger Zeit sich zu langweilen, so schnell wie der Juni sind doch schon lang keine 4 Wochen mehr vergangen.

Zurück denkend, müsste ich eigentlich noch Ende Mai anfangen. Die bekloppte Nacht, in der ich mit Regiane, Karla und Mauricio in sämtlichen Schlangen sämtlicher Clubs stand um letztendlich in einer BaileFunk Disco zu landen, die ich nach nur zwei Bier wieder verließ. Wie ich auf dem Rückweg Knut und Thiago und die ganze Band kennenlernte, nur weil die deutsche Flagge verkehrt rum hing. Nach Monaten das erste Mal wieder nach 6 Uhr morgens nach Hause gekommen, und selten hab ich mich so zu Hause gefühlt in dieser Stadt.
Anfang Juni bin ich allein für 4 Tage ins Amazonas Gebiet geflogen, habe im Regenwald zwischen Papageienschlange, kleinem Ameisenbär und Alligator in einer Hängematte übernachtet, mich amüsiert über die lustigen Franzosen die seit Monaten unterwegs sind aber immer noch Angst vorm Wald haben. Fabio getroffen, den Mathematiker der jeden freien Tag am Amazonas verbringt, schwimmt und jagt und immer ein bisschen aussieht wie Rambo, und Joaquim unseren mittlerweile 60 jährigen Guide mit 6 Kindern verstreut in den Grenzgebieten Brasiliens mit Kolumbien und Venezuela, also da wo man eben durch den Wald wandert und Touristen die Affenfamilien zeigt, die Jaguare und die Piranhas.
Nicht wenig später bin ich nach Deutschland geflogen, 14 Tage Dauerprogramm, Party, Fussball, Festival, absoluter Wahnsinn, absolut genial. Zwei Tage Madrid zum relaxen. Die Hochzeit von Christian und Line, Familienfest und die Zeit stand für einen Moment still. Noch ein bisschen Fussball, 2 Stunden Verspätung am Düsseldorfer Flughafen und schon war ich wieder in Brasilien. Ich schon. Mein Gepäck nicht.
Unpraktisch war das, denn ich konnte es auch nicht am nächsten Tag entgegen nehmen: Da ging es um 6h morgens schon wieder los zum Flughafen, auf nach Porto Alegre. Zertifizierung von Weintrauben. WEINtrauben. Jaja, Rotwein, Weisswein, Portwein, und Cava. Yummy yummy yummy. Und das nenn ich Arbeit (nur so als Info).
Heute ging es wieder zurück und morgen ist schon Freitag, um 11 spielt Brasilien und wir schauen alle zusammen im Büro. Es ist schon Juli heute, und die Woche ist morgen auch schon wieder um. Unglaublich. Und es geht weiter: Am Montag zertifiziere ich Mais bei einem Kunden in Rio Verde, dafür ist noch so viel zu tun und ich weiss nicht wann.

Die Zeit rennt. Fliegt. Und ich mit ihr.

DAS ist Brasilien!

2010-05-17T20:36:00.003-03:00

Urlaubsfotos :)

2010-04-11T12:28:00.001-03:00

Die Sache mit dem Unfall

2010-03-09T09:54:00.001-03:00

Es hat geknallt. Und zwar heftig. Meinen ersten richtigen Autounfall hatte ich also in Goiânia. Und wen wunderts?, so wie die dort fahren…

Autofahren in Goiânia ist grundsätzlich anstrengend und nervenaufreibend. Niemand hält sich anregeln. Straßenbeschilderungen und –markierungen dienen mehr als Aufforderung zum regelbrechen als zur Einhaltung selbiger.
Mit der Zeit habe ich mich jedoch dran gewöhnt. Madrid war ein guter Testlauf, und wenn man auch einfach ohne Angst fährt und immer mit dem schlimmsten rechnet passiert auch nichts. Im Grunde glaub ich sogar dass insgesamt weniger passiert als bei uns, da sich einfach keiner auf irgendwelche Regeln oder Autofahrer verlässt, nicht einmal auf rote Ampeln.

Kurz vor Karneval fuhr ich also mittags ganz normal nach Hause. Amber war zu Besuch und wir wollten zusammen zu Mittag essen.
An einer großen Kreuzung musste ich zwei nordwärts führende Spuren überqueren um nach links, richtung Süden, abzubiegen. Von links kam nur ein Auto. Ein großer, fetter Landrover. Er fuhr auf der rechten Spur, wurde langsamer und blinkte rechts.
Aha, dachte ich, der will hier rechts abbiegen. Wunderbar, dann kann ich ja fahren. Kaum hatte ich jedoch den ersten Gang eingelegt und war gerade einmal 1 Meter vorgerollt, da gab es einen riesigen Knall. Bevor ich wusste wie mir geschah, stand mein Auto schräg, dampfend, aus, und so, wie es vom Fahrersitz aussah, ohne Front mitten auf der Straße.

Für einen Moment wusste ich gar nicht was passiert war, geschweige denn, was ich jetzt machen sollte. Schließlich schaute ich mich um, öffnete meine Tür und stieg, immer noch völlig perplex, aus meinem Auto aus.
Die Front von meinem Auto war im Vergleich zum Rest um ein paar grad verschoben, total verbeult und an allen Ecken und Enden liefen Flüssigkeiten raus. Mein Nummernschild lag mitten auf der Fahrbahn, verbeult, ein Frontlicht war in tausend Scherben zerborsten.
Um mich herum hupten Autos und wollten den Landrover und meinen mickrig, wie eine Schuhschachtel zusammengefalteten Passat passieren und kamen nur schlecht durch.

Eine Frau stieg aus dem Landrover. Sie war in Sportsachen gekleidet (und wie ich annahm unterwegs zum Fitnessstudio, welches man durch rechts abbiegen erreicht hätte, oder aber wenn man die nächste rechts nimmt und ins Parkhaus fährt). Sie hatte das Handy am Ohr, war total ruhig und sprach schon mit ihrem Mann. Ja, die Versicherung hätte sie schon angerufen, da käme jemand. Nein, am Auto sei nix dran. „Ich dachte sie wollen rechts abbiegen… sie haben doch geblinkt!?“ sprach ich sie an. Sie antwortete mir nicht, teilte aber ihrem Ehemann sofort mit dass ich offensichtlich keine Brasilianerin sei. Die Schuldfrage war somit für sie geklärt: Ich komme nicht aus Goiânia, also war es meine Schuld dass sie mir rein gefahren ist. So einfach geht das, in Brasilien. Aber als Ausländer legt man sich ja dann nicht mit der Polizei an, zumal ich versichert bin und das alles bezahlt wird. Verletzt war sie auch nicht. Nicht einmal ihr Auto. Der Landrover, groß und fett wie ein Traktor, hatte nicht mal eine Delle an der Stoßstange, während mein Auto aussah als sei ich mit 80 Sachen ungebremst vor eine Wand gefahren. Wie ich später erfuhr war es wohl ein gepanzerter Landrover mit Stahlstosstange. Das erklärt warum trotz mein Auto trotz unser beider geringen Geschwindigkeiten so hart getroffen wurde und ihr Auto nicht mal einen Kratzer hat. Ich ärgere mich heute sogar ein bisschen, dass ich nicht die Nerven hatte mein Auto zu fotografieren. Ich habe leider gar nicht daran gedacht.

Ich rief als erstes bei mir im Büro an. Netterweise kam Klytya, die bei uns am Empfang sitzt, sofort mit einem Taxi angebraust und regelte alles. Ich stand etwas unter Schock. Zitterte, wusste mein portugiesisch nicht mehr, seltsamer Weise aber sämtliche wichtige Telefonnummern direkt aus dem Kopf.
Unsere Assistentin Saara rief vom Büro aus die Versicherung an, besorgte einen Abschleppdienst.

Die Versicherung der Frau mit dem Landrover kam als erstes. Dann auch ihr Mann. Der Agent machte ein paar Fotos von ihrem Auto, bestätigte dass nichts dran sei, und der Landrover konnte weggefahren werden. Der Mann sagte er mache gutes Business mit der Bayer AG, jaja, kenne er, kenner er. Kein Thema. Nix am Auto. Jaja, Versicherungen austauschen. Passiert. Goiânia halt.

Unter dessen rief ich 5 mal hintereinander zu Hause (in Goiânia) an und hoffte Amber würde drangehen. Tat sie dann auch irgendwann. Ich berichtete ihr und sie war auch etwas geschockt, und wartete dann auf mich zu Hause.

Das Ehepaar fuhr wenig später im Landrover davon und ließ mich, Klytya und den Versicherungsagenten allein um auf den Abschleppdienst und meine Versicherung zu warten. Eine halbe Stunde später trafen diese auch ein und alles war geregelt. Klytya nahm die Sachen aus meinem Auto mit ins Büro (Werbegeschenke, Poster, Banner und Co. welche ich in der Woche vorher nach Rio Verde gefahren hatte) und ich nahm ein Taxi nach Hause.
Eigentlich sollte ich noch zum Arzt, weil mein Auto so krass aussah, aber ich fühlte mich gut körperlich aber mental dermaßen gestresst dass ich nicht noch 2 Stunden im Krankenhaus verbringen wollte. Die Knautschzone hatte ihren Job getan, der Aufprall sah heftig aus, zu spüren gewesen war er aber zum Glück nur minimal. Den Nachmittag hatte mir mein Chef freigegeben, damit ich mich von dem Schock erhole. Da Amber da war, war das auch kein Problem. Wir setzten uns auf den Balkon, bestellten eine Pizza (eigentlich wollten wir ins Shoppingcenter „fahren“ und Sushi essen, aber das war dann ja nicht mehr möglich und Lust hatte ich auch keine mehr) und ich erzählte ihr bestimmt fünf oder sieben Mal den Unfall Hergang und dass ich immer noch nicht verstand, warum die blöde Kuh nicht abgebogen war, und wie mein Auto aussah!

Am Ende kann man sagen: Ich hab echt Glück gehabt. Wenn ich nur schon einen halben Meter weiter vorgefahren gewesen wäre, wäre sie mit ihrer Stahlstoßstange durch die Fahrertür gefahren, das hätte übel ausgehen können. So war es nur ein Blechschaden den die Versicherung ohne Murren bezahlt.
Angeblich auch kein Totalschaden (auch wenn die Versicherung nun schon seit fast 4 Wochen repariert und ich noch nichts davon gehört hab, wann sie endlich fertig sind). Wir werden sehen.

Die Kreuzung meide ich jetzt übrigens.

Die Schönheit, und die brasilianischen Männer

2010-03-08T09:53:00.001-03:00

Ich hatte ja, nachdem ich schon über Frauen und ihre Po-Implantate geschrieben hatte, auch versprochen selbiges für die Männer zu tun.
Sicherlich ist es nicht ganz so einfach wie über die Frauen, aber auch die Männer hier fallen in gewisse Klischees, die ich vor allem beim Karneval in Rio beobachten konnte.

First of all: What’s up with those costumes… Da waren beim Karneval doch tatsächlich 70% der Macho-Männer als Frauen verkleidet. Und dann gleich mit Perücken, und Pailletten besetzten Kleidern. Manche sogar mit hohen Hacken, Pumps vom feinsten, wo ich mich doch echt frage warum man sich dass bei 40° und viel Bier antut, wenn man nicht muss. Mir wurde also erklärt, dass die Männer sich Karneval so verkleiden, weil sie sonst nie die Chance haben auch mal die „weiche“ Seite zu zeigen. Das ist in der Macho Gesellschaft nicht geduldet und selbst Karneval nur dann erlaubt, wenn man es total ins lächerliche zieht. Ich fand es einfach nur kurios, und auch ziemlich unsexy, mir betrunkene und meist nicht sonderlich schön gebaute Männer mit Bierbäuche in Miniröcken, falschen Brüsten und bauchfreien Oberteilen anzuschauen.

Aber Karneval in Rio hatte natürlich auch seine guten Waschbrettbäuche, ähm, Seiten. So waren beim Bloco (den Straßenfesten) im Stadtteil Leblon viele besonders schön anzuschauende Männer dabei. Diese allerdings nicht im Frauenkleidern (nicht einmal im Kostüm, denn dafür waren jene jungen reichen Söhne sich zu fein… aber was solls, ich schweife ab und wollte ja auch eigentlich nur gucken und nicht mit diesen Schnöseln feiern…). Also, nicht in Röcken und ausgestopften BH’s kamen jene daher, sondern in Surfshorts und Sonnenbrille. Und sie konnten es sich auch wirklich leisten. Wahrscheinlich gehörten diese Männer zu der Sorte Kerl, die ich auch bei mir im Fitnessstudio beobachten kann. Die sind jeden Tag nach der Arbeit da, machen stundenlang Hantel und Gewichttraining und laufen regelmäßig Marathons auf den Laufbändern. Männer die nie Zeit für Gespräche haben, nie Augen für normale Frauen (nur für die Knackärsche auf denen man ein Bierglas abstellen kann), aber viel Zeit haben für Freizeit, da die meisten von Ihnen irgendwoher Geld haben. Nicht grade die sympathischste Sorte Mann muss ich sagen, aber wenn man mit einer guten Freundin leicht angeheitert bei guter Musik am Strand steht und eben diese Männer im 5-Minuten Takt an einem vorbeilaufen und nicht sehen können wie man sie durch die Sonnebrille anguckt und Noten verteilt, dann sind sie doch herzlich willkommen.
Wir bewerteten Bauch, Arme, Tattoos (Tattoos sind in Brasilien sehr weit verbreitet, darüber evtl. den nächsten Blog Post), Gesicht und wenn wir uns unauffählig hinterher drehen konnten auch den Hintern. Wir verteilten eine Menge guter Noten, vor Allem für die Sixpacks im Taylor Lautner Format, aber leider fielen 80 oder sogar 90% beim Gesicht durch. Angespannt. Hochnäsig. Arrogant. Meist mit Zahnspange.

Okay okay, das war natürlich alles rein objektiv. Naja, subjektiv aber den Mann nur zu einem Objekt machend. Aber die Schönheitsideale machen es einem Mann fast unmöglich normal sympathisch und somit für normale Frauen schön auszusehen. Entweder platzen die Hemden weil die Arme so aufgepumpt, die Brust stolz geschwellt ist. Oder sie platzen vom Bierbauch, der auch sehr häufig vertreten ist (meist so mit 30, wenn dann „endlich“ geheiratet wurde). Und an über 30 jährige mit Zahnspange kann ich mich nicht gewöhnen. Okay, irgendwie klingt das jetzt ein bisschen zu negativ. Zu viele Cowboys in Goiânia… Es ist ja bei den Männern nicht alles verloren, und die vielen nackten Oberkörper waren ja echt schick anzusehen. Aber das Mythos Latin Lover aus Brasilien bleibt mir doch unerschlossen.

Hier meine Tipps für Brasilianer auf dem Weg zur Schönheit.

- Lächeln
- Mund zu beim Kaugummi kauen
- Es im Fitnessstudio nicht übertreiben (nicht nur wg der Muskeln, auch wg der Zeit... jeden Tag 3 Stunden?!)
- Sonnenschutz am Strand nicht vergessen

Frauen empfehle ich übrigens selbiges. Dazu noch: Zeitungen die „Plastica“, „Dieta“ oder „Beleza e Operacao“ heissen, nicht zu kaufen.

Pictures from Carneval in Rio

2010-02-21T11:56:00.004-03:00

Sorry, there are no pics from the "blocos" (the streetparties) but I didn't dare to lose my camera for that... I might get some soon from a friend. :)

Brasilianer und die Schönheit. Und schöne Brasilianer...

2010-01-31T11:42:00.003-02:00

...oder auch nicht.

Die Frauen - Oder: Das Lehrbuch ohne Selbstvertrauen

Die Frauen sind der eigentliche Grund für diesen Post. Das heisst, rückblickend ist wohl der ur-eigentliche Grund mein Portugiesisch Lehrbuch. Lehrbücher für Sprachen, das wissen wir alle, sollen uns nicht nur Grammatik mit auf den Weg geben, sondern uns vielmehr auf eine Unterhaltung in der Sprache vorbereiten. Eine Sprache ist jedoch mehr als Vokabeln, Satzbau und Co., denn eine Sprache ist Ausdruck einer Kultur, ein gewachsener Part einer Gesellschaft der sich von den alltäglichen Gesten, Themen, Lebensweisen eben dieser nicht so einfach trennen lässt. Wie also soll ein Buch so etwas vermitteln?
Im Englischbuch gab es sogar indische Einwanderer (Pallavi Patil und Familie), und natürlich Mini Cooper, Jam und Co. Im Französischbuch wurden wir sogar auf die Tiernamen von beliebten Haustieren aufmerksam gemacht (was bei uns Bello der Hund, sind dort Minnie la souris, Minnouche le chat et Arthuuuuur! Arthuuuuur! Arthur est un perroquet!), und im Spanischbuch wurde erklärt wie Paella gemacht wird.
Selbstvertändlich lässt sich auch mein Portugiesischbuch die mehr oder minder kreativ gestaltete Einführung in die brasilianische Kultur nicht nehmen, jedoch erreicht es mit jeder neuen Geschichte auch einen neuen Tiefpunkt.
In den Geschichten geht es oft um Liebe und Ehe, und sie weisen immer wieder einen gemeinsamen Punkt auf: Die Lateinamerikanische (brasilianische) Frau hat kein Rückrad und kein Selbstbewusstein, soll sich aber selbstlos um den Fernsehenden, arbeitenden, Fussballliebenden Ehemann kümmern, die Kinder großziehen, bloss nicht zu oft den Mann um Geld bitten und niemals aufmucken.
Dies trifft nicht nur genau den eher mild belächelten Stereotyp der Latina auf den Punkt, sondern ist furchtbar langweilig und ärgerlich zu lesen. Ja, es ärgert mich regelrecht. Denn sicher gibt es solche Macho-Mann und Nix-zu-sagen Frauen hier noch zu Hauf, aber man muss es ja nicht auch noch forcieren und überall anpreisen denn den meisten Menschen hier geht es auf den Keks.

Bei der letzten Portugiesisch Stunde ging es also mal wieder um eine solche Geschichte (ein Comic in dem die Frau nach Geld fragt, und der Mann ihr antwortet das "was er ihr letzte Woche gegeben habe für den ganzen Monat hätte reichen sollen". Ich habe darauf hin gesagt, es könne doch nicht sein dass ich ständig solche furchtbar schlechten Stories lesen müsse, und das es doch nicht gut sei den Immigranten und Expats Horrorgeschichten als Alltag vorzulegen, die sich lesen wie eine Kreuzung aus 50er-Jahre Ami-Oberschicht (Mama kocht wie Julia Child, erzieht die Kinder wie Marry Poppins und die Frisur sitzt besser als 3-Wetter Taft es je vollbracht hätte; während Papa dicke Kohle nach Hause bringt) und einer völllig überzogen dargestellten Ruhrpott-Hartz4 Familie wie man sie so oft auf RTL beobachten kann (Macho Mann gut TV, trinkt, lässt die Frau nix entscheiden, trinkt mehr, fährt betrunken Auto, mag Fussball; Frau serviert Bier und Pommes, ist frustriert weil ohne Job, ...)
Meine Portugiesisch Lehrerin, die selbst ein Jahr jünger ist als ich und zuletzt zwei Jahre in Irland gelebt hat, sagte mir sie würde meine europisch-moderne Sichtweise verstehen und sie wolle sicherlich auch nie so leben wie die Leute in diesen Geschichten, aber es sei nunmal auch viel wahres dran auf das man vorbereitet werden müsse. Die meisten Frauen in der brasilianischen Gesellschaft haben nunmal wirklich kein Rückrad, sagte sie (ich widersprach), man würde das ja auch an all den versuchen des jung-bleibens (Schönheitschururgie und Co.) und den vorstellen Hochzeiten sehen (ich widersprach nicht).
Wir waren bei einem Thema angelangt dass ich sonst so nur aus Hollywood kenne. Die meisten Frauen sind operiert oder zumindest mit mehr als nur Make-up aufgehübscht. Die Zähne sind gebleicht, die Haare sind nie echt, das Fett wird abgesaugt, Implantate in alle möglichen Körperteile gesteckt (wer glaubt die Brüste seien das non-plus-ultra hat den Arschbacken Trend eindeutig verschlafen... zumal, falsche Brüste "hat ja jeder") und wer sich das nicht traut oder dafür kein Geld hat verbringt jede freie Minute im Fitnessstudio, im Solarium oder beim Friseur und richtet den Rest mit Fettweghosen und Make-up. Fastzinierender Weise sind auch die Röcke kurz wie Gürtel, die Ausschnitte gehen (selbst im Büro) so weit dass sie fast alles zeigen und die Bikinihosen nicht größer als eine Visitenkarte, zusammen gehalten mit Zahnseide, aber dennoch würde eine Brasilianerin niemals oben ohne am Strand liegen...
Beim Thema Fettweghosen guckte meine Lehrerin schon so als wolle sie mir gleich ein Geheimnis verraten aber sie hielt noch still. Als ich jedoch darauf hinwies, dass ich den Wunsch der Brasilianerinnen, einen Hintern zu haben der zwar fest und nicht zu breit ist, der dafür aber nach hinten rausguckt wie der einer Ente, und auf dem man ein Glas abstellen könnte, musste sie lachen. Ich lachte auch, laut, und erzählte weiter, dass ich ja letztens in der Shoppingmall was gesehen hätte, das würde sie mir nie glauben: Es gäbe Unterhosen mit Silikonkissen im Hintern! Ich fiel fast vom Stuhl vor lachen.
Sie jedoch stand auf und hielt mir ihren Hintern entgegen: "Drück mal drauf!" - "Häh?!" - "Doch, echt, fühl mal... das bleibt aber unser Geheimnis... ich hab sone Hose an. Hab ich sofort gekauft als ich sie gesehen hab. Und son Fettweganzug auch."
Sie würde sich auch operieren lassen, von Kopf bis Fuss, aber sie hätte weder das Geld noch die Traute. (Und an dieser Stelle sei einmal gesagt, dass sie wirklich eine hübsche, niedliche, schlanke 23-jährige ist, seit letzter Woche mit Zahnspange, das hat sie sich dann doch getraut.)

Die Schönheit ist den Brasilianerinnen halt doch das wichtigste, es geht über Gesundheit und Verstand hinaus. Und weit über den Geldbeutel sowieso.
Es kann aber nunmal leider nicht jeder aussehen wir Giselle Bündchen, da hilft es auch nicht sich in deren Klamottengröße wie in Wurstpelle einzuschneidern oder sich gleich den ganzen Körper ummodellieren zu lassen auf das man mit 35 aussieht wie Cher oder Mickey Rourke.

Leider fällt mir grad kein schlauer, abschliessender Kommentar ein, denn ob sich das jemals ändert steht in den Sternen; auch wenn es genug junge Mädchen gibt die davon (jetzt noch?!) so wenig halten wie ich.
Der Post ist jetzt ja auch schon sehr lang... ich werd also das nächste mal über die Männer schreiben (denn auch da gibt es viel zu erzählen...).

Von 0 auf 10km/h in einer Sekunde!

2010-01-23T10:14:00.002-02:00

Eckelig. Widerlich. Dreckig. Hässlich. Riesig (bis zu 7cm). Braun. Leider auch fliegend. Und sie legt 30cm in einer Sekunde zurück.

Die Kakerlake.

Ja, ich lebe in den Tropen. Kakerlaken gibt es hier zu hauf, denn sie lieben warme, feuchte Luft und vermehren sich in einer Geschwindigkeit die Karnickel vor Neid erblassen lassen würde.
Zum Glück halten die Viecher sich hauptsächlich in Zuchtbetrieben und Lagerhäusern auf, wo sie alles anfressen können und die meiste Zeit des Tages ihre Ruhe haben (denn sie sind Nacht aktiv). Leider kommt es dennoch vor dass sich mal ein Tier verirrt. Oder sagen wir besser, dass sich einer dieser ekligen, wie Riesen-Maikäfer aussehenden Bakterienschleudern verfliegt. Da kanns auch schonmal der 15. Stock eines Hochhauses sein.

Einmal war eine durchs Flurfenster reingeflogen und sie saß vorm Fahrstuhl als ich nachts nach Hause kam. Sie können ja nicht beissen oder so, und weil drauftreten auch nicht hilft, hab ich sie gepackt und aus dem Fenster geworfen (und selbiges schnell zugemacht). Hände waschen nicht vergessen.

Ein anderes mal saß eine im Schrank des Sekretariats. Pappbecher drüber, Papier drunter, raus ausm Fenster. Und Becher wegschmeissen nicht vergessen.

Eines Nachts, damals schlief ich noch mit offenem Fenster, wurde ich mal von einem lauten bbrrrrrrrrssssssp *gelandet* wach und sah eine Kakerlake an der Wand gegenüber sitzen. Als der erste Schock vorbei war, konnte ich sie jedoch mit ein wenig Aufwand (sie sind rasend schnell) mit einem kleinen Handtuch fangen. Ich wedelte das Handtuch aus dem Fenster aber das Scheißvieh wollte nicht loslassen. Es krabbelte am Handtuch entlang auf meinen Arm zu, so dass ich mich im Halbschlaf total erschreckte und mein schönes Canadiens Habs Handtuch mitsammt der Kakerlake durch den Wind richtung Müllcontainer der benachbarten Baustelle segelte. Ich habe das Handtuch leider nicht wieder gefunden...

Der Hammer allerdings kam gestern. Da fand ich in meiner Lebensmittelschublade in der Mehldose lauter kleine mini Viecher. Ich bin mir nicht sicher was es war. Aber die Angst, dass eine Nachts mal eine Kakerlake durch meine Küche spaziert ist und in der Schublade mit den Gewürzen und Zutaten ein paar Eier abgelegt hat war auf einmal so groß dass ich in Windeseile alles mit fast kochendem Wasser und Spülli ausgewischt hab, alles weggeschmissen hab (meine armen schönen Brotbackmischungen die ich extra aus D-Land eingeflogen hab). Dann hab ich das Familien freundliche Spray genommen und alles eingesprüht, Tür zugemacht, bin zu Carrefour gefahren und hab das richtig giftige Zeug und eine Menge Lauffallen gekauft (Panik-Hamsterkäufe...), sowie eine Fertiglasagne weil meine Idee ein frisches Brot fürs Abendbrot zu backen sich ja grad verabschiedet hatte und ich mich sorgte dass ja die Küche jetzt auch überall mit Gift besprüht ist und ich vor einem Großputz dort nichts zu essen mehr ablegen wollte.
Ich hab mich etwas schlecht gefühlt dabei, so viele Lebensmittel wegzuschmeissen, Mehl, Zucker, Salz, und andere Grundnahrungsmittel. Aber die Tatsache dass Kakerlaken und andere tropische Parasiten (ich weiss ja nicht was es genau war, hauptsache es ist jetzt tot!) hier Krankheiten von Hepaitits über Cholera und Typhus bis hin zu Kinderlämung verbreiten (von den Standard-Ekel-Infekten mal abgesehen)ekelte mich so dermaßen, dass ich nichts mehr davon anfassen wollte.

Heute ist also Küchengrossputz angesagt. Ich muss gleich mal zum Supermarkt und Putzalkohol und Plastikhandschuhe kaufen und dann gehts los. Denn mit dem Gitft hier ist nicht zu spaßen und so ein Spray dringt, zu Mindest in meiner Vorstellung, in alle Ritzen. Widerlich.

Aber gut, so sind sie halt. Die Tropen. Es gäbe schlimmeres. Schlangen im Sojafeld zum Bsp machen mir mehr Angst wenn ich durch selbige stapfe, oder auch Leoparden und Anacondas die in den "Reservas Legais", also den gesetzlich vorgeschriebenen unberührten Waldstücken leben die zwischen Flussläufen und Feldern stehen und somit dafür sorgen dass in der Regenzeit das Ufer nicht einbricht und weggeschwemmt wird und somit über kurz oder lang das beackerte Land abträgt. Solche sind mir aber noch nicht begegnet. Nur ein paar Äffchen konnte ich mal am Rand vom Wald beobachten. und die sind mir definitiv lieber als fliegende Kakerlaken...

Arbeiten am Arsch der Welt.... macht Spaß!

2010-01-16T11:56:00.007-02:00

Naja, so schlimm ist es eigentlich gar nicht, aber diese Alliteration kann man sich natürlich nicht entgehen lassen.

Ich war diese Woche mal wieder in Rio Verde, einer sehr kleinen Stadt umgeben von nichts als Feldern. Von Goiânia aus sind das nochmal 230km land einwärts auf der wohl schlechtesten Autobahn auf der man Goiânia verlassen kann. Eigentlich kann man es auch gar nicht Autobahn nennen. Die zweispurige Straße ohne Mittelstreifen (oder gar Mittelbegrenzung) ist zwar in den letzten Monaten extrem ausgebessert worden, aber trotzdem gibt es noch Stellen wo man besser langsam auf dem schmalen Standstreifen fährt anstatt sich auf der eigentlich Fahrbahn die Reifen aufzureissen. Schlaglöcher sieht man ja nach kräftigen Wintern mit gefrorenem Boden und anschliessender Schneeschmelze in Deutschland auch, hier allerdings brauch es keinen Schnee sondern ausschliesslich den dichten Verkehr großer, schwer mit Mais und Soja beladener LKWs. In den Schlaglöchern kann man ohne Probleme Einkaufskörbe oder kleine Handgepäckkoffer versenken, so tief sind die. Wer da langfährt braucht gute Bandscheiben... und vor allem ein größeres Auto als meinen Passat.

Wert war es den Trip aber trotzdem. Ein halbes Jahr habe ich bisher an meinem Zertifizierungsprojekt gearbeitet, und während das Tomatenprojekt wegen eines komplizierten Vertrages noch in der Rechtsabteilung liegt, kann ich für das Projekt für non-GMO Mais in Rio Verde seit dieser Woche den ersten offiziellen Projektstart inklusive Vertragsunterschrift, grosser interner und externer Kommunikation, sowie ein tolles Werbegeschenk für alle meine lokalen Kollegen verkünden.

Ich muss schon sagen: Es fühlt sich echt super an, wenn so langsam alles Form annimmt. Diese Woche habe ich schon die Farmen und die Anbauflächen zusammen mit unserem Berater besucht, viel Zeit auf dem Feld verbracht, den großen Bossen unserer Partner auf portugiesisch präsentiert, und vor Allem habe ich viel gelernt und viele Ideen und Pläne für die nächsten Monate erarbeitet. Ein Vortrag ist in der Mache, eine weitere Reise nach Brasilia steht an, und die Ausweitung des Projekts auf weitere Kulturen.

Kurzum: Ich habe das Gefühl dass ich jetzt, wo sich all die Arbeit des letzten halben Jahres in Ergebnisse verwandelt und ich gemerkt habe dass mir mein Portugiesisch keine Probleme mehr bereitet, endlich das Gefühl hier richtig angekommen zu sein. Jaja, man soll sich nicht selbst beweihräuchern, ich weiss. Aber für diesen einen Moment ist mir das grade egal. Ich bin glücklich, und stolz. Und ihr sollt alle daran teilhaben.

Wonderful Cable or: Why do we have to dub everything in Germany?

2010-01-16T11:14:00.002-02:00

I have always loved TV. Already as a small child I used to watch Disney Cartoons (preferably Donald Duck) with my Dad, and who thinks saying that 1-and-a-half-year-old Anna really wanted to watch it was just my Dad's excuse to watch his favourite TV shows is wrong: Colors and moving pictures attract me. I adore movies, I would like to go to the cinema at least once a week (if there were enough good movies showing here... Brazil only shows blockbusters) and I like to watch TV series on a lazy afternoon as long as its not too hard to follow them without seeing every episode. Here in Brazil its easy and so much fun, as Cable TV is not only affordable but movies and series are shown in the original with subtitles and there is really a channel for everyone, so WB Channel shows all his series, Universal all it's own, and so does Sony. You can choose whatever you like according to your humor or likings without depending on the stations to chose for you what is worth to be dubbed and what isn't. They are funnier this way, and way easier on the eye and ear.

In Germany on the other hand, a lazy sunday on the couch with the TV on is hell(since I am not that much interested in Disney and other kids series anymore). First of all, many many good series and shows just never make it onto German Television (Dexter, Big Bang Theory, 30 Rock, Saturday Night Live, Jimmy Fallon, Conan, etc.) and the few good ones that are dubbed to death (Friends for example: the mouth movements never fit, all voices are annoying as Janice's, the jokes are badly translated or completely lost,...) or show (still badly, yet not as horrendously dubbed) at stupid hours (Seinfeld, Prisonbreak, ...)

But really, what annoys me most of all is the dubbing. A TV show loses so much of its momentum and fun by dubbing it. The price for the dubbing is pretty high, so for series that might not make it to the top as they aren't understood by everyone's humor (Big Bang Theory) it is apparently not worth it so they aren't showing at all. It also takes a lot of time. While House runs in the 2nd next season in the USA, they restart from the beginning in Germany to bridge the gap until the next season is translated and recorded. Same for movies, by the way.

I mean, we live in a globalized world. English is absolutely mandatory for everyone in the working world and I would say that for people younger than 50 the series in English would not be a problem as our school English is good enough to actually listen and the few lost jokes would get lost in translation anyways. Reading along the subtitles would be totally fine to know exactly whats going on, and lets face it: listening and reading the translation does help one's English a lot and is thus only helpful (best example: the Netherlands never dub, and thanks to good school english like the German's it gives them a little extra in terms of vocabulary and accent). For the people that do not speak english, subtitles would still be okay I think, as I can see here in Brazil that even people that do not speak a word of english get along well with subtitles. They have no learning effect, sadly, but still the movies and series are understood, as much fun, and out at the same time as in the USA.

Seriously, we should stop dubbing and stop importing only the mass-compatible crap. Really.

And here the promised hint for someone: "No, I don't want you to buy me journey... I circle journey! It's a metaphor, Daddy!"

On my way back...

2010-01-05T10:03:00.003-02:00

In two hours I will start my wonderful annoying 26-h
our trip back to Goiânia. To get a little back into the Samba Feeling, here a nice clip from Vanessa Da Mata and Ben Harper. =)

Clipe VMB 2008|MTV from Paraphernalia on Vimeo.

Recap: Holidays at Home

2010-01-04T10:32:00.002-02:00

So that was nearly it. My first real holidays at home. By saying this I do not mean staying at home over the holidays, or visiting my parents just for a weekend. No, this time I really spend a 2-and-1/2-week holiday in Germany to visit everyone and to get all pampered and celebrated by friends and family after living in Brazil for now more than 7 months.

So how was it? Holidays at home? First of all, it is weird to use the word home. Even though in many languages, such as the German or Brazilian language, we make a difference in words for the home where we live and the home where our heart, our soul, our history lies, I do not find specific words for that in English. Maybe I could ask Lucky, or Amber, or best maybe Kristen who studies that kind of stuff. But really, I think the fact that in English, which is the language I use more and especially more regularily than German by now, I can call 5 or maybe even 6 places home makes moving in between them a lot easier. The word home gives a warm feeling, a sense of "I am going where I belong".

My parents house, Leverkusen, where I spent these Christmas Holidays is more than home and those holidays were really awesome. My parents house is not "where I belong". Not anymore. But it is the place where I can always go, the place that always will be there, and the place where I can hide when things go rough.

These holidays were passing really fast and everyday there was something I needed to do. Somewhere to party. Friends to visit. Family to see. I probably saw more of my friends and family, I partied more and I was out more than any other random two weeks I have spend in Germany ever in my life and I had a blast.

I arrived on Saturday night, delayed, in Cologne, and already my parents, my sister and my closest friends were waiting for me at the trainstation and took me right away to a nice, typically colonian bar at the Rhine river. Later on I moved on to my friends Christmas Party and in the end I had managed to travel 27 hours, party another 8 hours and then finally sleep for 12.
The next days I had fun in the snow, enjoyed the lovely cold, picked up my grandfather at his place (280km south of here), had coffee with the family, enjoyed Christmas Eve, met with my aunt, uncle and cousins, saw a Rock Concert (Die Toten Hosen), went to my friends birthday party and was surprised how easy and unproblematic it was despite my ex being there, I played what felt like 100 games of Scrabble with my family (and a dictionary), I drove 230km to my best friends house, saw a Ska-Concert (The Busters), drove another 360km spent a wonderful, snowy New Years Eve with a bunch of really great (new) people in Berlin, had a nice walk on the river Spree, went back to my best friends house and talked all night, drove then back home to my parents, met with a kindergarten friend, went for dinner in Cologne with my parents and my sister, stopped on the way back at Lucky and Toni's place, happened to spend the night there because of the snow, back to my parents the next day with the train and one hour walking as there are no buses on sundays (what a tiny poor little village!), I had Cheese Fondue for the second time and well, now its already monday and I leave this house in 24 hours.

The time passed fast, and it was stuffed with fun. But it won't be long before I am back, as I think it is reasonable to at least show up at home for a couple of days every half a year, and Hurricane Festival in June is just the right spot to mingle with all my friends.

That being said, it also fits into my Resolution for 2010: Travel. Travel. Travel.
First travel for this year: Back home to Goiânia, Brasil.

Ein Post für Lucky und Björn

2009-12-27T11:32:00.003-02:00

Nein, nein, natürlich ist dieser Post nicht nur für Lucky und Björn, ich bin ja froh über jeden meiner dreieinhalb regelmäßigen Leser. Aber Lucky ist mit Abstand die Hartnäckigste wenn es darum geht mich ans Schreiben zu erinnern und Björn hat gestern den süßesten Kommentar überhaupt gebracht... und ausserdem regnets und nachdem ich ja in Brasilien behauptet habe das brasilianische Fernsehprogramm wäre schlimmer als alles bisher dagewesene habe ich jetzt doch wieder meine Meinung geändert und behaupte das Deutsche Fernsehen wäre noch schlimmer.
Was also machen? Schreiben. Damit ich jetzt nicht wieder ganz von vorne anfangen muss hier mal ein Sommer Highlight vom Dezember.

Die Büro-Weihnachtsfeier
Auch in Brasilien wird Weihnachten gefeiert, ist ja klar. Auf den ersten Blick zu erkennen war dies für mich in der Adventszeit in Brasilien aber nicht. Sicher, ich hatte die kitschige Deko überdimensionaler Plastikweihnachtsmänner die den ganzen Tag E-Gitarre spielen oder Doughnuts essen in den Shoppingcenters bemerkt, auch die falschen Weihnachtsbäume die mit glitzerndem Obst bestückt sind habe ich gesehen. Aber schon allein die Tatsache dass es draußen 38°C hat und ich mit einem Eis, in Shorts und Flips-Flops daran vorbei laufe liess alles nur noch kitschiger und so falsch aussehen, dass man glauben könnte der Innenausstatter der Galeria Kaufhof hätte sich einen Scherz erlaubt um das Sommerloch zu füllen.
Als ich mich einmal dazu hinreissen liess, zu sagen für mich wäre das doch alles sehr unweihnachtlich, denn bei dieser Hitze würder der Weihnachtsmann in seinem Mantel ja sofort einen Herzinfarkt bekommen und die armen Schneemänner ausserhalb des Gefrierfachs nicht überleben, da bekam ich strafende Blicke zu spüren denn immerhin sei jawohl Weihnachten und das wäre ohne ohne "Papai Noel" jawohl nichts und die Schneemänner und Tannenbäume seien ja eh nicht echt. "Eben." war meine Antwort dazu. Das war dann aber auch wieder nicht richtig denn ich wurde belehrt dass man Weihnachten die Geburt Jesu' feiert und damit hätte jawohl der Baum garnix zu tun, wo das herkäme wüsste eh keiner, denn in Brasilien gibts ja nichtmal Tannen und bei Weihnachten muss es warm sein. Punkt. Aus. Keine Disskussion. Nao tem jeito.

Ich erwartete also ähnliche Deko für die Büroweihnachtsfeier, wurde aber enttäuscht. Es gab bunte Luftballons, einen elektrischen Rodeo-Stier im Luftkissen zum drauf reiten, ein Trampolin für die Kinder; und ja, tatsächlich, ich sollte zum vierten Mal der selben Sertanejo Band zuhören. Kellington e Anderson. Ich glaube es gibt keine andere Band die ich 4 mal in nur 6 Monaten gesehen habe, schon gar keine die ich nicht besonders leiden kann (ich empfehle hierzu den letzten Blogpost). Natürlich gab es auch Fleisch vom Grill und Bier. Was sonst?!
Vor dem Essen aber wurde gewichtelt. Wir hatten im Büro alle Namen gezogen und während man bei uns schonmal raten soll von wem es kommt, müssen in Brasilien alle raten wer gezogen wurde. Dazu erzählt der Schenkende eine kleine Geschichte oder stellt Fragen, bis es raus ist.
Mein Chef war irgendwann dran und fragte: "Wer ist denn hier blond?" Einige Hände schnellten in die Höhe, ich schaute mich um... Tatsache, waren einige blond, das würde noch etwas dauern. "Nein, wer ist denn richtig blond. Von Natur aus?" Nur zwei Hände blieben oben, aber beide hatten schon ein Geschenk in der Hand. Das kann ja nicht sein. "Wer ist echt blond und hat noch kein Geschenk?" Keiner meldet sich. "Wer ist blond und hat blaue Augen?" Keiner meldet sich. "Mensch Leute, wer im Büro hat denn blaue Augen!?!" ANNA! Achja, ich. Oh. Blond?! Ich nahm mein Geschenk entgegen und entschuldigte mich erstmal mit den Worten, dass mich in Deutschland sicher niemand als blond bezeichnen würde... Mein Chef schenkte mir Noten für traditionelle brasilianische Musik (Samba, das Mädchen von Ipanema, etc.). Ich fand das eine sehr schöne Idee.
Einige Zeit später mussten dann die Kinder auf dem Rodeo Stier platzmachen. Der Chef wollte aufsteigen. Danach alle Männer. Wer nicht wollte wurde dann doch vom Chef überzeugt (ich möchte nicht wissen wie). Sie hatten alle mehr oder weniger Spaß, und unser Chef kommentierte jede Bewegung und hätte mit seiner Euphorie in der Stimme jeden Fussballkommentator neidisch gemacht. Zum Glück tat sich keiner weh, obwohl das ein oder andere Manöver bei den zuschauenden Ehefrauen spitze Schreie und hektische Griffe an den Kopf hervorriefen.

Weil es draußen schüttete wie verrückt gab die Band Zugaben und der Whiskey (immer gern genommen, ob mit Kunden oder Kollegen, siehe dieses Foto der letzten Messe http://www.twitpic.com/qxtps) wurde ausgepackt. Um zwei Uhr morgens wurden dann aber auch die letzten Kinder quengelig und so wurden die Familien nach und nach mit riesen Sonnenschirmen durch den anhaltenden Regen zu Ihren Autos geleitet.

Ich war Fahrer einer Truppe und sollte uns alle wieder hoch auf den Hügel, auf dem die Stadt liegt, fahren. Die Straßen waren so überflutet dass man nicht sehen konnte wie hoch das Wasser stand. Überall waren schon Autos geparkt bzw. abgesofffen, die Mofafahrer drängelten sich auf den kleinen Verkehrsinseln.
Ich dachte, ich bin ganz schlau und fahr einem ähnlichen Auto langsam hinterher. Wenn er durchkommt, komm ich auch durch. Bei einem U-Turn allerdings lag ich etwa 5 Sekunden hinter ihm, und während der Fahrer des Wagens vor mir eiskalt durch das Wasser düste, bremste ich in der Kurve. Ein fataler Fehler, denn schon kam eine Welle und mein Auto stand bis zu den Lichtern im Wasser. Ich dachte jetzt ist es abgesoffen... Dann bin ich aber doch noch mit Warnblinker im Rückwärtsgang wieder rausgekommen; nach vorne wurde es nur immer tiefer.
Wir brauchten eine kleine Ewigkeit nach Hause, denn die meisten Straßen waren gespertt und auch vor meiner Haustür lief das Wasser in Strömen. Selbst die Temperaturen waren um 16°C auf kühle 22°C gefallen und somit war es fast weihnachtlich: Kühl, regnerisch, dunkel, und nass. Eigenltich so wie heute in Leverkusen.

Alles in allem ein echtes Abenteuer, so eine Weihnachtszeit in der Fremde. Aber Spaß hats gemacht! Und wie!

2009-10-21T10:56:00.003-02:00

...und es klang, als wäre er seiner Katze auf den Schwanz getreten. Mehrmals. Im 4/4-Takt.

Diese Gedanken hatte ich gestern, als wir hier bei der großen Konferenz in Cuiabá zusammen zu Abend gegessen haben und dabei einer Live Band lauschen durften.
Der Klang jedoch ist beabsichtigt. Es nennt sich Sertanejo und ist die lokale und hier in der Gegend erfolgreichste Musikrichtung.

Wer sich darunter noch nichts vorstellen kann: Es ist lokale Volksmusik. Ein recht fröhlicher Beat eigentlich. Aber jammrigre Texte. Xavier Naidoo fällt mir dazu ein; und auch Florian Silbereisen. Ja, so in etwa. Es klingt wie Xavier Naidoo klingen würde, würde er zusammen mit Marianne und Michael (Akkordeon und Gitarre) bei Florian Silbereisens Volksmusikantenstadl-zdf-rentner-hitparade auftreten. "Diese Trennung wird keine leichte sein, diese Trennung wird steinig und schwer... drum' loss uns oardentli oan uffn grill lega un kräftig oan trinkn"...

Zwei Männer, zwei Gitarren. Einer kann spielen und macht die komplizierten Parts oder nimmt auch mal das Akkordeon zur Hand, der andere streicht nur hin und wieder mal über die Seiten und singt dafür. Sie grinsen. Grinsen in die Runde. Warten das endlich jemand tanzt, aber ich bin die einzige Frau unter 38 Männern und wenn es jemand gibt der in dieser Musik keinen tanzbaren Rhythmus findet, dann bin das ganz sicher ich.
Meine Kollegen grölen die Texte mit, sie kennen sie alle, freuen sich wenn sie auch mal ins Mikro jaulen dürfen.
"Du wirst schon noch lernen diese Musik zu mögen" sagen sie mir. Sicher bin ich mir da nicht. Eigentlich will ich auch gar nicht lernen diese Musik zu mögen.

Doch dann wippt plötzlich mein Fuss im Takt. Nur ganz kurz. Ich schaudere, grusel mich fast ein bisschen vor mir selbst... Haben sie doch recht? Kann man "lernen" eine Musikrichtung zu mögen? Ich grinse auch. Mit dem Sänger um die Wette. Nein, ich glaube bisher hab ich noch nicht viel gelernt. Aber für den Anblick meines Chefs der aus voller Überzeugung und mit Inbrunst die traurigen Texte ins Mikrofon singt das er dem eigentlichen Sänger entwedet hat, wie er sich bei den langen Tönen nach hinten beugt und mit seinen Händen der Tragik ausdruck verleiht... Wie alle Kollegen mit singen, das Bier in der Hand... Dafür kann man gut auch mal Katzenjammer-Kammermusik ertragen.

Was für ein schöner Abend denke ich, nehme einen Schluck Bier, suche den Takt des Akkordeons und wippe nochmal kurz mit dem Fuss.

Chile! - Part 3: Concha y Toro Vineyard

2009-10-08T14:13:00.001-03:00

On Monday I met with Franziska and Alastair early in the morning. Carlos and Consuelo had to work, so they could not join us for our vineyard tour at the Concha y Torre Vineyard, just 45 minutes out of Santiago’s City Center.

I met them in their hotel for breakfast, we put our luggage in storage and stopped a cab on the street. We were lucky. The driver accepted to drive us to the vineyard and back for a reasonable price and would wait there for us. Also, he was the funniest taxi driver I have ever met. He made the whole tour into a sightseeing tour, but not showing us the best sights of Santiago, but things like his old elementary school. He was laughing the whole time and even took some wrong turns and laughed about it.
In the end, we made it to Concha y Toro 5 minutes after our reserved tour was supposed to start, but we could still join. We decided to chose the big tour which involved more wine and a little introduction to how one recognizes good wine.
The tour itself was cute, but nothing to what I had remembered from the wine tasting tour my parents once did in France (with me and my sister following them around the wine cellar, totally impressed by what we saw (which was totally as described in Asterx in Rome) but not understanding anything the guide says nor being able to taste). We saw the wine barrels and learned about the differences of American oak and French oak, why it is lying in the cellar and that the old cellars are naturally cooled and with the optimal humidity, while the new ones above ground need to be constantly monitored. The oldest cellar of Concha y Toro is called “Casa de Diablo” as the legend tells that bottles were stolen from the cellar by employees, to which Don Melchior (founder of the vineyard) reacted by telling the people that the devil lived down there and that every month he came and took a bottle of the finest wine. The story made up was so powerful that the Christian and superstitious people that lived and worked on the vineyard got scared of that particular cellar and called it “Casa de Diablo”. No more bottles were stolen.
After the tour we had a wine tasting, where we were able to test 4 different wines of one of the top brands of Concha y Toro. Concha y Toro, being one of the biggest vineyards in the world with more than 8000ha, has many brands for all kinds of segments, prices and tastes. We tasted a Merlot, a Carmenère (Concha y Toros specialty), a Shiraz (Syrah), and a Cabernet Sauvignon. I liked them all but the Merlot, however, Carmenere and Shiraz were my favourites with the cheese and crackers we had. The really really good Cabernet would have been great if it had come with a heavy meal…
We learned about the colors, the smelling, taste and the way it sticks to the glass and I found it so interesting that I would do a wine course just to get to know more about it, but unfortunately, Goiania is not really the right place for it.
Our funny cab driver brought us back to the city center where we had a good lunch at a Peruvian restaurant with a cabernet sauvignon which allowed us to try out what we just had learned. We walked back to our hotel to pick up our luggage and stopped a cab to drive us to the airport. On the way we stopped at a wine store where Alastair and Franziska bought some wine and then we had to go to the airport quickly.
As always, lines were really long, and when it was really really time to check in I was 2nd in the line and one of the ladies from the counters came and started picking out people from behind me in the queue that had a flight that left 5 minutes before mine. I tried to talk to her, because out of a sudden there were ten or more people in front of me and my check-in was closing. She didn’t hear and so I started bitching at her in Spanish and finally she heard me. Franziska and Alastair who just needed to drop off baggage as they were able to check in online were already at the counter and made me signs to hurry, as it was closing (the lady told them they were lucky arriving 2 minutes before closure). So I just pushed the lady aside and went over to the counter where Franziska and Alastair were standing and checked in there. Of course the LAN-Airline girl wasn’t happy, but really: what do I care in that moment…

We had to fly a big detour over the Andes due to bad weather conditions and only got out of the airport with our luggage around 1:30am. My flight to Goiania would leave at 8am, so it really did not make any sense to go into the city to sleep on Franziskas couch and go back at 5am. Instead I took one of the free hotel transfer cars and slept in a very rundown, hostel like hotel in Guarulhos. But that was okay. At least I had some light hours of sleep (not much though, there was a very loud group of young, drunk, male Brazilians). I arrived in Goiânia on time and drove directly to the office. I was a little late, but noone noticed and I had had a really great weekend!

Chile! - Part 2: The Seaside

2009-10-01T00:00:00.001-03:00

The next morning we got up early to go to the beach. Originally I had planned to go skiing with Franziska and her boyfriend, but the weather forecast predicted heavy snow and I figured this would not be the best surrounding to stand on (snow)skis for the first time in my life.
Driving out of the city was really nice and, again, looked a lot like south Germany / Switzerland… Unfortunately the view was blocked many times by clouds and rain. The street wound nicely through the mountains and after a while I saw the sea! The first time I see the sea on the other side of the equator happened to be in Chile!
We stopped in a small town where they had a few huts making a little market with fresh fish, sea food (among them the freshest scallops ever!) and some hand made clothing. It was really cute, but the most amazing part were the Pelicans that sat all around, waiting for some fish to fall off the tables.

We had lunch in a cute little restaurant by the sea, where I had an amazing dish with crab meat in a claypot and of course: Pisco Sour. Pisco Sour really advanced to one of my favourite drinks on that weekend.
The clouds slowly cleared and after lunch was over, one could see the coast line, and the town with its colored fisher boats and pretty houses built into the cliffs, still partlz hid in low clouds, gave a magical view.
I was so “awwww-ed” by the view, that I forgot to look on the ground and a view seconds later was lying on the same. My feet had gotten caught in a fishers net… Fortunately I was able to safe my camera by holding my arms up high, which, on the other hand, is anything what I have learned from falling as a child and protecting ONE SELF. Ah well, the knee shall shut up, the camera was saved…

We moved on along the coastline in order to reach Vina del Mar and Valparaíso, which by now can be considered twin cities.
Just before reaching Vina del Mar we passed a big rock, just off the cliff, where at least 50 sea lions were gathered with many young ones playing in the water. So cute! I could have watched forever! A little later I think I even saw some penguins…

In Valparaíso we parked the car and took a nice walk around the city. To get to the upper part, we took the “elevator” which reminded me of a San Francisco Cable car, but with a steeper slope.
The view across the city, which is a UNESCO World Heritage by the way, was very nice. Mountains and sea, and in between cute little houses in all kinds of colors, most of which reminding me of candy. Rose, baby blue, yellow, white, indigo… the list could be endless, really.

Back in Santiago we were really hungry and thus rushed into Consuelo’s favourite Pizza Place, with the best Pizza in town. It was crowded with young people but we were lucky to find a little table close to the wine display.
I had not reached Franziska the whole day, and as we overheard that there had been a big Avalanche across the road of the ski resort Franziska and Alastair wanted to go to, I got a little worried. Fortunately they had decided last minute that they rather take another, bigger tour of the city instead of skiing in the snow because 2 days later there were still around 1300 tourists trapped upon the mountain.

Chile! - Part 1: Santiago

2009-09-30T10:59:00.003-03:00

Better late than never, I thought, and thus you can now read about my weekend trip to Chile.
As there are not international flights leaving Goiania Airport, I had to leave to Sao Paulo first and spend the night there. My flight left here on Friday night and arrived in Sao Paulo Guarulhos International Airport at 21h. Unfortunately I missed my bus into the city by mere two minutes, and had to wait for another 30 until the next would drive me to Congonhas, but if I have learned something in Brasil, waiting is definitely it…
Sandra picked me up in Congonhas and after a quick beer at her apartment we went to have a big and amazing Sushi Dinner. Of course, not without taking a picture and sending it to Kaoru in Tokyo!
We had a lot to talk about so we stayed up nearly all night and I just got half an hour of sleep until at 5am my taxi arrived to bring me back to Congonhas, to take the bus to Guarulhos, to finally board my plane to Santiago de Chile.

I slept the whole four hour flight and when we finally arrived I was all awake and happy to explore the city.
Once through the very tough customs with dogs and big machines to scan / x-ray all of my luggage to keep me from entering the country with plants, vegetables or any other living thing that might spread, I found Carlos, my friend and first term team mate from IE waiting for me.
We drove towards the city, which is built into a dent with the Andes in the back, and I swear it could have been Switzerland. The swiss impression of the country only changed when we passed the poorer parts of Santiago, but soon we were in the middle of a buzzing, very clean, and very modern city. I must admit: I loved the city from the very first moment on, even though it was cold (Goiania: 28°C, Santiago: 6°C) and rainy.

Carlos’ wife Consuelo was waiting for us at home and as soon as I had gotten rid of my luggage and unpacked my warm coat and scarf, we went to take a stroll through downtown. I just liked the city more and more. One can easily see that Chile is the most westernized country of South America and the clean little parks and spots to sit, the open cafés and the well maintained houses seem to have everything that Brasil is working on, yet still lacks.
We had a coffe in the main square and took a look at a little exhibition about Rapa Nui (Easter Islands) which lie far off the Chilean Coast, closer to Tahiti in fact than to the country they “belong” to.

As it was time for lunch, we went to a nice restaurant at the border of a big park and had amazing seafood for starters, together with fresh bread and a spicy type of tomato relish which Consuelo and I loved. Then I had something “typical Chilean”, a type of meat with a lot of sauce and spicy mashed potatoes. Technically, this could have also come from the “Schwabenländle” in south Germany, where they love mashed potatoes and everything as to swim in a nice meat sauce. I loved it. (yes yes, I keep repeating my love for Chile, but what shall I do, I am supposed to tell the truth here…)
On the way out Franziska reached me. Her and Alastair had taken a later plane and had now arrived in Santiago as well. We decided we would meet later at night for drinks, as I was invited to watch soccer and have some snacks together with Carlos’ family at his parents house.
Before we could think about more to eat though, we first had to walk off all the things we had just indulged ourselves with.
We took a route into the park and up the mountain until we reached a platform from where one could watch all over Santiago. The city was hid in a mix of clouds and smog, yet it was great to see how it was huddled against the mountains in the back.
A little higher up one had an even better view and could climb up to the statue that you can see on the pictures. It watched over Santiago, a little like the Jesus Statue watches over Rio de Janeiro. However it is a little smaller.

I was tired as hell when we reached Carlos’ and Consuelo’s home again, and so I took a little two hour nap before we left to watch the soccer game. Apparently my four hours of sleep on the plane weren’t as relaxing and deep as it had seemed…

We watched the soccer game at Carols’ family’s house and his mom had prepared all kinds of little tapas for us to eat. It was very yummy and even though I have no clue about soccer, I enjoyed it very much.
After the game, we went together with Carlos’ sister and her boyfriend to a nice area with bars where Franziska and Alastair were already waiting for us. We had a couple of beers and a nice chat.

Rainy Days in Chile

2009-09-13T12:55:00.001-03:00

Text will follow later, here you find pictures of Santiago, Zapellar, Vina del Mar, Val Paraiso, the Beach and Concha y Tore Vineyard :)

Kafka was brazilian...

2009-09-02T19:44:00.008-03:00

... or if not, whomever invented rules and laws on how administrativ things work in Brasil had just read Kafka and loved him.
Me, on the other hand, I do not like Kafka. I never thought he was interesting and when I had to read his books and stories in school I was just reassured, that Kafka really isn't my thing. But you always meet twice in life, and Kafka came back at me. Not in a book this time, but with an adjective that was purely invented for him and the way his stories work. Kafkaesque.

Wikipedia says:

"Kafkaesque" is an eponym used to describe concepts, situations, and ideas which are reminiscent of the literary work of Prague writer Franz Kafka, particularly his novels The Trial and The Castle, and the novella The Metamorphosis.

The term, which is quite fluid in definition, has also been described as "marked by a senseless, disorienting, often menacing complexity. [...]
Situations that are incomprehensibly complex, bizarre, or illogical.

If you have read my blog entry "What Pachaa is for Madrid..." then you have already gotten an idea of how bureaucratic things in Brasil are sometimes, even if it is just to get into a club. It led me to writing a series called "Kafka was brazilian..." of which you can read part one right here, right now.

Buying a TV.

Even though I am not a a big fan of TV, I sure am a big fan of movies and I do not like to watch them on the tiny screen of my tiny laptop. Thus, I needed a TV.
Well, I thought, that cannot be so hard. Its a TV. You go to the stores, look at the offers, pick one, take it home, plug it in. Done. Well, thats right, I THOUGHT.

Well, first of all, things tend to be sold out. I could pull out some comparisons to the former GDR now, but I won't ;) Afterall, I have just heard those stories from other people.
But it is true about Brazil. Stores do not like to keep a lot of anything in storage that is expensive, and while I can understand that, it bothered me while shopping for a TV.
Everytime I found one I liked it was sold out and the prices tend to jump up and down every day. But this cannot really be called kafkaesque, so here comes the real deal.

I finally had found a TV I want even though there was none left in storage (if there ever was one) but I could have the one standing in store. Quickly, I pulled out my debit/credit combi-card in order to pay my new TV and take it home.
First though, I needed to register in the store. Name, Adress, Phonenumber... ooops, system fail. Again, Name, Adress, Phonenumber... ooops, does not work, there is a, street number required for the adress and not just the buildings name. Mh, too bad, cause the city hasnt given out numbers yet (it is a new building in a new quarter). Okay, it will be 00.
I am registered. I get asked to please move over to the nice lady behind a bulletproof glas. The cashier.
When I try to pay though, it turns out that neither debit, nor credit, nor a combination work. My limit is too low. Limit?, I think, What limit? They never told me about any limit?! Its just a TV?!
The salesperson offered me I could go to the ATM and take out all money I can and see if it is enough. So I gave it a try, but my limit was 500R not enough for the TV... And keeping it and going again tomorrow for more and driving all across the city with so much money? No thank you.
I decided I would just go to the bank and pick up checks to pay the next day, and i was promised that they would keep the TV. Tomorrow at 10am, they said, we open and you can come and pay.

The next morning, it was 10:30, I was back at the store. Unfortunately, it was still closed. Due to rearrangement of the store, it would only open at 2pm it said on a big screen. Well, "re-arranging" the store?! The guy yesterday could have known that... oh well.

I came back at 16h and, oh, new sign: The store stays closed today. Thank you very much.

Well, there is still sunday. I went back to the store, and as it was closed the day before, they had kept there promise and noone has bought the TV. Actually, the price had even dropped. I pulled out my checkbook and was actually kinda happy to, for the first time in my life, pay with a check.
But oh. Registration. Registration? I just registered the last time?!
Well, for check payment one needs to register "completely". This includes, first of all, the CPF number. It is tax number and "Schufa" (for all you Germans) in one. Luckily I have a CPF number. Next would be my RG number. Unfortunately, I do not have an RG as foreigners do not get registered with an RG but with RNE (Registro Nacional para Estrangeiros - National Registry for Foreigners or something like it). The stores system luckily took RNEs and although I do not have my RNE card yet ( it takes half a year to be made) I was able to proof with many discussions, the protocol of the RNE application and the system print of the RNE Filing (with all its stamps and stickers) that I was really registered and thus allowed to buy things. But although I registered in the stores system with my RNE as a foreigner, when it asked for my birthdate, parents information and birthplace it unfortunately asked for a state and only had brazilian states in the dropdown menu. Berlin with its wonderful postalcode of 14057 was not found in any state, and there was no way to find the postal code to some, maybe existing, Berlin somewhere in Brasil. We left it all empty to see what else is coming up.
I was supposed to give them two telephone numbers in Goiânia as a reference for me being able to pay. Or, just in case I won't pay. Now, I did absolutely not feel comfortable with giving away two of the three phonenumbers I new so far in Goiânia.
Not being registered, would leave the option of writing a check to the store and to come back two days later to see if the check had worked out and if the TV was paid. If so, I could take it home then. But really, I felt even more uncomfortable with that option, thus check book was now officially ruled out.

As I nearly had expected something like this, I had brought my German credit card. The German system works with signatures, while the brazilian always works with 4-digit pins. My card ran through smoothly and though it hurt a bit knowing that the money would be taken off from a bankaccount in Germany that receives no more salary but gets deducted for a student loan every month (more about this in the next Kafka Story) at least the receipt popped out and I I finally owned my TV.
Wait, was that real? Can it really be paid without a pin? Another discussion and explanation later it was decided. Yes. It was real, and I could take the TV home.

They packed up the TV and loaded into the back of my car. It now stands here and is great. But these registry and system things can really drive you nuts. Wait until you hear more about them...

TGIF

2009-08-28T22:58:00.003-03:00

TGIF - Thank God Its Friday

It is Friday. Finally. Actually, the week passed super fast, but Friday is always good. Cause it's Friday. As simple as that. ;)

I have no plans for tonight although I wanted to go to a concert of a colleague originally. But then, in the end, noone ended up going and going alone? Nah, not really. Thats the downside to living in a big city one does not yet know very well. But it will come with time, I guess.

On the other hand, I was not going to go out for too late anyways, because my long awaited couch will finally arrive tomorrow and as they cannot really give me a time frame that helps ("We will arrive between 8h and 18h... plus / minus 30 minutes") so will have to be awake and ready at 8h because my appartment still has no interphone so the doorman can call me and I won't wake up from a simple knock on the door (at least not as far as I know me... ;)

Another great thing today was that my boss approved my holidays, thus I can travel somewhere down south with Alessa (who landed in Sao Paulo today and will be travelling around for 4 weeks) and then in October I will go to Buenos Aires to visit Ale and to see the city I always always always wanted to live in. Maybe one day I still will. And its all thanks to Anna who moved there when we were still in Kindergarten. Her stories when visiting Germany in the summer apparently were enough to make me wanna go. Oh well and it helped of course that Ale told me about it, Marisa did, Carlos (Schmitz, that would be) said he loved it and my former boss moved back there twice and would go again as soon as he had an offer... Buenos Aires must be amazing.

Oh and guess what? No, that is not all! I will go to Santiago de Chile next week. A night in Sao Paulo on Friday and then Saturday morning to Monday Night in Santiago. City Tour with Carlos (Mendoza, this time) and his wife Consuelo, skiing in El Colorado and a Wine Tasting Tour at Concha y Tore :)

Yepp yepp yepp, amazing plans... And I am soooo excited. So who cares about a friday night at home when you have those trips coming up?! Thats right, I don't.

Last but not least I tried to buy a Blackberry Phone, cause there is an amazing promotion going on these days that would basically offer me "unlimited data" (VOIP here I come, skype on the go all day long and thus being able to communicate with my family and friends throughout the week cause they wont be sleeping when I come home from the office) and "unlimited" phone and messages (well, it would be 1000 minutes and 1000 messages per month, which for someone like me, hating the phone like nothing else, is basically unlimited). And as if that was not enough there is a 300 Reais Rebate too (which is totally necessary cause electronics just seem to be insanely expensive in Brazil when you grew up in Europe).
Unfortunately, Blackberrys are sold out every-f*in-where in this city and thus I was not able to get one. But I will keep trying and send all you busy business friends of mine my BB Pin soon, so we can message for free and be cool, and to all those normal people outthere: This means I can have Skype turned on all day and thus be reacheable through my German Skype-in Number :) :)
Yes, it sounds really good :) But: I need to get the opportunity to buy one first. Of all things, I did not think this would be an obstacle...

So, thats enough news for today.

Except maybe: I finally saw the movie "Das Weisse Rauschen". Now, to be honest, I am not a big fan of those Dogma 95 style movies because the movement really makes me motion sick, but here it was just really really helping the story and Daniel Brühl was really really good. If you havent seen it yet, you should.

Beijos and good night!

Some Random Brasil Facts and Stories

2009-08-26T21:31:00.003-03:00

In the video rental store here, the dvds are not sorted by genre and then alphabet, but (and I am totally serious, I was just there today) by genre and then by COLOR!

I spent 3 times as much money for groceries on Monday than I spent the same day to fill my car's tank.

(Some) cellphone providers charge you for roaming when you change states within Brazil.

If you want to buy something big, or rent a dvd, you need to register in the store. In order to do so, you need to give two phone numbers of friends or colleagues for reference. (So, if you thought of stealing a 15 Reais DVD, they will hunt you down, may it cost whatever...)

Nobody has dishwashers. And as most people clean their dishes with cold water, the soap here is so aggressive it cleans everything. Burnt in, dried out, who cares!?

As it hardly ever rains in this city, streets turn into raging rivers when it finally does.

You think you can skip cleaning dust this week? I don't think so. The earth here is red as I would only expect it in Africa... and you can see red on EVERYTHING.

Bills have barcodes, so you can pay them easily on the ATM Machine. Yet there is no such thing is automatic debit (only for water and gas) or "Bankeinzug".

Brasil has no Ikea.

Things in Brasil sell out easily, as stores do not stock much. If you see something you like, buy it.

Your CPF number shows people if you are paying your bills, if you have a valid identity, and (through noticing if you know it by heart or not) how long you have lived in Brasil (in that order, by the way ;))

You need your CPF Number for purchases of all kinds, to use your credit card, to open bank accounts, to rent appartments, to register a car, to register your signature, to get Internet Access, and the list goes on and on. You even need it to be allowed to enter clubs and bars sometimes.

You need to register your signature. In Brasil it is not necessarily enough to sign things (twice or three times). Your signature also needs to get a little sticker, another signature of a state worker, and a couple of stamps before its valid and proven that it really is your own signature.

If Brazilians call anything "Alemao" (=German) you can translate it as "Bavarian". Dirndl and Lederhosen are typical German cloths, Sauerkraut and Eisbein are typical German food (and sausages), the Oktoberfest is what every German attends once a year and Franziskaner is a typical German Beer. And beer is drunken warm in Germany, cause it is so cold over there... Mmmh, lots of work left for me.

Brazilians love fireworks. There is a big rocket sent off after every GOOOOOOOOOOL here at the stadium.

The lines that show you lanes on the street are there, but they are useless and thus ignored. And you better ignore them too, if you dont want to cause an accident. Who honks first, goes first and there is ALWAYS space to change (imaginary) lanes 5 to 7 times on 100 meters in rush hour.

... thats it for now, but I am sure there will be more to come...

Pictures of my Appartment

2009-08-23T19:55:00.003-03:00

Here are some pictures of my appartment. It is still missing a lot of decoration, but I think that will come with time... Also bookshelves are missing, thus, some of my books are still in boxes.
Nevertheless, it was finally time for a nice housewarming dinner with my friends to thank them for all the help they gave me to start here in Goiânia!

Fire in the Attic

2009-08-17T08:00:00.001-03:00

No, I dont mean the band. I mean actual fire.
On Friday night I sat in my appartment and watched The Butterfly Effect, when the TV made a loud cracking sound and turned off. Damn it, I thought, I will miss the last minutes of the movie now...
My phone and my internet also work over the cable network, so it was all turned off. What now?

I heard a loud knocking on the door... Whoomp Whoomp Whoomp it went. Mh, I thought, maybe someone wants to know if my cable tv stopped too.

"Helloooo?"
"Oi, its the porteiro! Come out please!"
"Uhm, hold on a second" *key search, turn keys, open door*
"We gotta go. There is a fire. Upstairs."
"A what?..." *grab wallet and cellphone, grab shoes*
"Fire. Come quick.*

We ran down the stairs. 15 floors. He had run them up before. He was sweating. Nervous. The building had just been opened and he was new. New to this job. New to this responsibility.
My knees were a little shaky. I had done this before. Ran down the fire stairs, once from 11th floor once from the 26th. It always turned out to be a false alarm and as there was no smoke, I thought this must be a false alarm too. Yet the porteiro seemed very nervous.

The only thing I could be thinking was: This is not possible. This cannot be true. My stuff made it all the way from Germany to Brazil, by train, by ship and by truck. It will not burn down now. And why am I carrying my sneakers in my hands. My socks will be ruined when I get downstairs. Why I was thinking that? No idea. Kinda ridiculous. My socks? I mean, who are you kidding... I run around on socks all the time and for years my mom keeps telling me that I keep ruining my socks and i never before cared. The brain works in weird ways sometimes...

When we arrived outside there were already people standing there. From the outside I could see that the building had a light alarm, that was blinking heavily in the night, but I did not hear a sound.
From the other few people that live in the house so far, I learned that the little three year old girl saw the fire. When going to bed she looked out of her window and saw the fire reflection in the new building next to ours. "Oh look mommy, how pretty. It has fire in the window." Mommy of course didnt think it was so pretty, grabbed her little one and ran downstairs informing the porteiro and the local fire brigade.

When the fire brigade arrived, the fire still didn't seem to be big, there was not much to see from the outside.
The fire was on the top floor, where the appartments arent ready yet and noone lives there so far (well, there are only 5 of 22 appartments used so far). Apparently a construction worker had left one of those tools on, that make a flame to melt things together. He had left it on small, so it took a couple of hours before the material caught fire. As far as I understood, we all reacted right. When the chief of the fire brigade came back downstairs to tell us the fire was out and why it happened, and all the details that everyone wanted to know so badly... I didn't really understand it all though, people were all talking at the same time, talking fast, talking portugese (of course), but at least the guy was very handsome... so I just looked, and had someone explain it to me later...

A little later we wore allowed to go back upstairs. It was a little weird. The fact that i did not hear any alarm got me a little worried. What if it happens again and the porteiro cannot run up 15 stories again... but then again, what are the chances of it happening again in the same night, when the fire men just took care of it?! And the alarm will be repaired or re-adjusted too.

...it's been a while...

2009-08-16T13:06:00.002-03:00

I did not remember how much work moving was. Then again, I think I have never really moved like this before. Moving from Berlin my parents did all the work, moving to Canada just involved 2 suitcases cause the rest stayed in my room at my parents, then I moved out from my parents house but I did it in little bits and pieces, and Madrid, like Canada, involved more work putting things in boxes for storage than it involved unpacking...

Either way, I am nearly done now. There are still two and a half boxes with stuff left... the boxes with the stuff that you collected without really noticing, and for which now you cannot find a space :D haha
And there is soooo many books. I knew I had a lot of books, but somehow miracly, they all had a nice space in my old place. Now here, I have two big bookstands and still I have a huge box just with books left. I need to find a carpenter to build me bookshelves that I can put into the cupboards that are built into the walls here. They are made for clothes and thus just have one compartment to hang stuff.... Hey Joey, didn't you want to go down south when its winter in Montréal? I mean, you cant really build a house here, but I could need a good carpenter ;) Free beers included!!

I also had to realize that I have a lot of clothes and shoes. Frankly, I do not beat my mom in shoes and clothes, by far. Yet, for someone who mainly wears sneakers it is a lot... And guess what? After sorting all my shoes into sandals, winterboots (which I so didnt need to carry across the ocean), gym shoes, sneakers, highheels... I still wondered why I can find my red, my black, and my multicolored chucks, yet the brown ones and the green ones are missing. I am wondering if I sorted them out in Madrid, where I sorted out a lot of stuff that would get me over the 20kgs luggage for the plane... damn it, should have thrown out other stuff ;)
Also, so many clothes that I forgot that I had, because they went into storage two years ago, when I left to Madrid. Mainly work clothes, but also my favourite band shirts that are so damn worn out but that I just cannot throw out cause they are tied to the best concerts ever (like the Less Than Jake Shirt from my first rock concert ever, when they played with Bad Religion in Montréal) or just great moments and friends, like the "The Frikadells" t-Shirt which was made for me when I left to Madrid, from all my friends that were on my balcony on a random drunk bbq-burger night when we decided to start a band called "The Frikadells". We even prepared our "The Turtle is the Mailman" Tour and had already a bunch of songtitles... yet, we never reached the moment of actually hitting a single note together...

Moving is a lot of work. But as you can also see from this post, it brings back amazing memories. I found my two favourite stuffed animals in a box, for example. One of them a bear that my aunt had made for my birth, without which I have not slept a single night between my first days on earth and leaving for Canada. Other people have a small pillow, I used this bear as a small pillow (and frankly, by now he looks like a pillow, all flat...)

In another box I found the guitar that Anne and Joey made for me when i left Canada so that I would remember them. Next to it the Bongos that Andrea gave me at Grad Day for the same reason and a McDonalds Name tag from Allard, which was his first name tag of his first job that he was so damn proud of.

I found my high-school exams from my challenge classes physics and english, and my economics notes from my German University and from Madrid.

I found tons of pictures from being a child, from being a teenagers, from holidays in Estartit, from BBQs at my first own place, from work, from school, from university, from Berlin, Canada and Madrid. Maybe unpacking took me so long, caues I looked at them all ;)

But now I am sitting here, I nearly finished everything... I put up the pictures and paintings I brought. Kurt Cobain, who has been travelling with me since Canada, is back on the wall and looks down on my beautiful living room ;) (though this poster definitely needs a frame, it is starting to rip on all edges)

It is a nice sunday, a couple of clouds. Not too hot. And I feel really comfortable. Here. Finally. At my new place.

Ah well, the brazilian way...

2009-07-30T19:57:00.003-03:00

What has happened if suddenly you realize, that noone you are doing business with, is trusting noone around you nor you nor anyone is his own team? Well, easy: You tried to rent an appartment in Brazil.

I had to put down a deposit today, in order to get my keys. I went to the bank and asked them to show me how to do it, as I had never done it in Brazil and the vocabulary was just so strange... The guy was really nice and said he could do it "right here at the counter"... until he realized I am missing a piece of information (called CPNJ) which, next to bank number, account number, and name, makes sure that its the legitimate receiver.
I went back to office, called a few people, got the number. Back to the bank.
Oh, the guy said, this number is invalid.... he went to the back to check and found out there was apparently a zero missing. Next thing I hear: Oh, now, this number gives an error.
Mmmmkay... ?!
I went back to the office, called a few people, and apparently the numbers were correct. So this time, I tried to do it via online banking. The number apparently was correct, so was the 6 number code to enter, the token to enter, the token to reach the transfer page, the other 6 number password to confirm the transfer and the token to confirm the transfer but: Oooops, this is above your limit. Sorry.
Limit?! What limit?! It was so low, I would never be able to pay my rent in one piece... well, not even in two pieces... -> Back to the bank. Back to the counter.
There is one other possibility the lady said: You could use a check. Mmmmkaaay... I don't have checks yet. So I applied for checks. Got checks. But the real estate agency doesnt like checks.
Well, finally, some other person managed to enter my deposit and transfer it. Ouf. Finally. Lets get the keys.

Well, the contract was not yet signed by the owner. The receipt of my deposit was not enough for them to sign off that I had payed. And oh, the key was not there, cause there was a problem with the stove.

But as I needed the key, cause tomorrow my container arrives and I need to move in, I went to the building to pick up the keys and to tell them I was moving in tomorrow.
In the building we met the stove technicians, who had brought (again) the wrong thing and thus werent able to install it. And by the way, there is no electricity yet. And the laundry machine isn't plugged into the water tap yet. Oh, and yes, we cleaned it but left paint buckets and only used a sweep, no water or anything that really cleans. And no, we never talked about ACs being installed and a stove does never have an oven.

Oh well, I thought. Just how I had imagined it. Welcome to Brazil.
At least it looks pretty (in daylight).

Schlüssel - Keys

2009-07-30T13:03:00.003-03:00

Finally, I can pick up my appartment keys today.
All I need to do is go to the bank and make a deposit for the real estate agent fee and then its mine. And I cannot wait to see it, cause last time I was there, the kitchen wasn't ready.

I will take some pictures of the empty appartment today and upload them later tonight, and then tomorrow, my container comes and I can finally move :)

Of Homesickness and Cultural Shocks

2009-07-26T10:38:00.002-03:00

Now, it has been over a week since I was down, and the strange sad feeling is completely gone, so I will write about it.

It was last friday, my sisters birthday and other than that a normal day at work. I spent the lunch break at the hotel, so I can call my sister over skype cause I knew she would be preparing her party at my parents house.
We talked for a while and I wished her a happy birthday and a great party, and then I went back to work.

When I arrived back at work I was told that I had a meeting at 14h (it was around 13.55h) which was important cause it was about what I was working on.
Now, first I thought "how nice they plan this without letting me know" and then I thought about the project I was working on which was generally really easy (calculating a marketshare per product per each salesman) but turned out to be really annoying as the two databases that give the information work completely different and make it really hard to combine product and market into one (different languages for example, or different spelling).
In the meeting we wanted to go over the steps needed to calculate it all into one format, as I had had a couple of questions in the morning, however, all I ever heard was "it is all easy" because I was simply not able to explain the problem I had in portugese and they could not understand me in english. I felt like I was running against a wall and their repetition of "don't worry its so easy" and "you know, it's new for us too, the databases are very new" made me go crazy.
The meeting ended and i wasn't any smarter than before, so I decided to just do it as far as I thought it was reasonable and not changing the results too much (due to too much calculation needed to make the databases comparable).

Later however, my colleague came again over to my place to explain me again what they needed. I had understood what they needed from the beginning so I told him I understood, just had one question. We started all over again but reached the same problem: language. I was so frustrated you cannot believe it.
I got angry at myself for not being able to make myself understood, angry at whomever decided to have two databases with basically the same data but with different names and spelling, and angry at the world around me, cause they did not seem to care that this way they would get results but they would be unable to tell anything worth the analysis and insane excel programming needed to get there. And probably they would even be far off reality cause they would be taken out of context, mixed and brought back together. I tried to stay calm, but after the 100th time of "don't worry, it's all easy, you just need to divide the forecasted sales through the forecasted market" I just couldnt stand it anymore. Out of a sudden and without myself having any control over my brain, I had this rush of thoughts...

"What am I doing here? Why am i 27 hours of travelling from home? What was I thinking, I cannot even explain anything in this language?! Why am I not home helping to prepare my little sisters big birthday bash? Why didn't I chose any place in this world that is more like home? Canada, Spain, Germany, anything... but I chose Brasil?! Those people are crazy and dont even speak a little bit of english! I don't even have a home here yet... 6 weeks in hotels for that?! I wanna go home. Now."

I knew I had to finish until Monday and it was Friday, 17:45h so I decided to run. Well, as far as I could: Across the street into my hotel room. I saved the excel file and all the background data on a usb flash stick and left. I thought I could finish it in the hotel on my computer, afterall, excel 2007 is way easier for stuff like that anyways.
When I came home to the hotel, I was really really sad. Heavyness and an unexplainable sad feeling was nagging on me and I really did not know how to cope with it. I had never experienced a Cultural Shock and with homesickness I had never really had a Problem. In Canada I was homesick only twice that I really remember: One on the 2nd day, which had passed after 20 minutes of crying and then going outside to play with my little host sisters; and once more on September 11th (my first day of High School) when people talked about a third world war, which had passed after calling my parents and a mean joke of my little sister (Grandma: "Maybe we should get her home..." Sis: "Grandma... with the plane?!").
But this here in Brasil, this was different. It felt like I had made a huge mistake by coming here, and I really cried. If my red ballerinas weren't in the container, I would have slipped them on and clacked the heels to see if I could get home like in the Wizard of Oz... I tried on skype and on the phone, but of course, on a Friday night at 23h in Germany nobody was reachable. And my sisters party I didnt want to call, cause I would have cried and ruined the mood...
So I had a beer, watched a movie and went to bed early. It helped too.

On sunday I plugged in the flash drive to start working. But the file was corrupted. I sent it to Amber to see if she could open it, but she couldn't either... I could have thrown the damn thing out of the window, but that's not really me, so I just turned of the TV and went shopping instead. For the first time driving with my car around.
I chose a shopping center that is not too complicated to reach and though my car (an old Volkswagen Passat (or Parati in Brasil)) is old and dirty and I needed to get used to it first: It drives well and probably noone will have the idea of stealing it...
As I had heard a couple of horrendous stories of driving in Goiânia ("worse than Sao Paulo") I was prepared for hell. Turned out though, compared to Madrid it is a joke ;) Well, it is about the same as in Madrid but with less traffic which makes it a lot easier. I reached the Shopping Center without problems and thought it was funny that in Madrid my biggest ever shock was driving in the city and not really knowing where to go, and now here that was no problem (thanks to Madrid) but the language was (which, in Spain, had never be a problem of this extreme).

On Monday I got to the office early and had only a tiny lunch break, but I managed to finish the damn excel file and people were happy.
That was it. My first homesickness in years and my first real cultural shock. Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to Brazil!

saturday afternoon life

2009-07-25T18:31:00.002-03:00

I am soooooo close. I am so close that I can barely wait for it anymore.
Latest news are, that probably on monday I can sign my contract and hopefully get my keys on thursday. I will have to confirm that, so that I can make sure that my stuff arrives on friday. MOVING ON THE WEEKEND! WHOOOO HOOOOOO! :)

That is why I wanted to go and check out some furniture today, but unfortunately they were all closed. It is this street, actually around the corner from where I will soon, very soon, live where there are many small furniture stores. Many of them look more like garage sales, but I heard that if you look hard you might find really nice pieces as they make them all themselves and often copy or get inspiration from the selling designs. Now, this doesnt really say that much as the most selling designs here arent really what I like, but it is worth a try... I thought... until I found out they were all closed.

So I went to the big shopping center instead to have something to eat. I got a loooooot of sushi and wandered around among the bookstores and in the one furniture store (Tok e Stok, like Ikea just way smaller and way more expensive ;) and checked my options there.

When I came back to the car it was actually very nice outside, not too hot anymore yet not dark. So I decided to pass by my soon-to-be home and check out the parc right in front of it.
Its was a great idea, cause the park was full of people. Kids playing, people lying on blankets, some joggers and many many dog-walkers. I felt very comfortable there and ended up just watching for half an hour or more, drinking some water.
I need to go there more often, and I will, soon... Looks like a nice spot to meet some people outside of work too...

Long Time No See

2009-07-21T18:02:00.002-03:00

Yes yes yes, I haven't written anything in a while. Well, I was busy watching movies, going out and sitting in the sun reading (as you probably have expected me to do). Also, I worked, and I must admit that last week for the first time I really encountered the barriers of language which was a little frustrating and forced me into a little homesickness.
But sun always helps and so it passed quickly and I am back on track in the brazilian adventure.

The good news are, that my appartment was 99,9% approved (I won't give it a 100 until I have the contract in front of me) and I can probably move on the 30th or 31st of August.
My furniture and cloths and most importantly my bed and my music have safely arrived in Sao Paulo and passed customs, so I will get them all the moment I move in :)

Today I took a little roadtrip for work and went together with two colleagues, Franziska and Emerson, to Rio Verde to visit some clients. It is very interesting so far and I am impressed how much I actually understand, yet a little frustrated with not being able to answer as quickly as I wish ... ah well, it will come with time and I still have plenty of it left.

This was a little chaotic now, and short, but nonetheless its something and I will write more and especially in more detail about the last week and its crazyness in a couple of days. Stay tuned ;)

Warley's Birthday BBQ

2009-07-12T16:56:00.001-03:00

What Pachaa is for Madrid...

2009-07-07T09:29:00.001-03:00

On Friday, I was told that we were going to go out to a club. And not just any club...

... a club, where you have to go early enough not to wait hours in line,
... a club, where everyone goes,
... a club where you will party all night,
... a club, where people buy bottles of Vodka/Whiskey/Tequila/Champagen and not glasses,
... a club, where only the coolest people know the bouncers,
... a club, that to me sounded like Pachaa.

But many things were different in Bufalo's. It was harder to get in. And I don't mean the bouncers, although not even Carlos could have gotten past the bouncers, like he often did in Pachaa...
What I mean is the security measures:

You are checked by a bouncer, if you fit in.
Your passport/ID is being checked by another bouncer, to see if you are old enough and if you have legal identification on you.
You and your stuff are searched for weapons or drugs or both by yet another security person.
You the entrance hall where you have to stand in line to register your ID or Tax Registry Number (so they can sue you if you cannot pay in the end or demolish something or start a fight).
You get a little chipcard to buy all drinks on and you can finally go party.

When we entered the actual club through a door, I expected this huge dancefloor, light show and some cool places to sit. To my surprise though, it was Sertanejo Music playing (Country Music from the region of Goiânia) and the whole club, including bars and some tables, was no bigger than the main dancefloor of Pachaa and instead of dancers and light show there was Rodeo being shown on a big screen. Now, don't get me wrong. The people were all dancing and the girls were way more dressed up than in Pachaa, but it was a little weird compared to what I thought I would see, and honestly, the cowboys walking around didn't make it any more normal. Plus, I felt like a grandma in there. Now, many people of you might laugh, especially the ones I know from Madrid. And I think, the people were not even that much younger then me (I guessed the average at 22 maybe 23, with me being 24)... but they looked younger... maybe it is the crowd I usually hang out with that is older... hahaha...

As I am not very fond of Sertanejo Music (yet?!), I went to first of all get a beer. The guy who handed me the beer, took a napkin and wrapped it nicely around the bottles neck and fixated it with a litte twist. It looked like what you would put on a nice 15-year old Rioja and not on a brown, 0.33l beer bottle and it was already soaked from the condensation when he handed it over. I looked at it with a "what's that?!" look and took the napkin off. For Sthela that was funny enough laugh really loud and the guy behind the counter would remember me for the rest of the night, handing me beers without the napkin... :D

By the way, did I tell you that many brazilians think that we Germans would drink our beer warm? I do not know where they got this from, but it is one of the most common things I have heard so far, when people found out I was German...

At around 1am at night, the music changed to house music and it was a little easier for me to move along to it than to the Sertanejo Music (Puppet, I miss you hear, the men hear cannot lead very well, which for a beginner to this type of dance is both embarassing and kinda boring!). So I danced all night and wanted to catch a cab in the morning.
On my way out someone out of a sudden grabbed my hand and tried to kiss me. Now for drunk Brazilian men that might be typical, not so for German girls. I could hardly see or hear him, so while he was telling me something about, my pretty eyes and that I was so beautiful and blablabla let's make out, I played my foreigner card. I kept a little distance and said something in portugese like "Sorry, no speak portugese... beautiful? Yes, party is beautiful... what? ... bye!" and went away.
Leaving the place is a little easier than going out. One goes back to the counter, pays whatever is saved on the chipcard, goes to the bouncer who checks that the chipcard is really empty ad then one can leave.

I was just about to enter the cab when this drunk cowboy was there again. Now that he was standing and walking in the light, I could really see that I did good to keep him on distance. He was so drunk he could hardly stand and sweating as if he had just ran a marathon. As he tried to tell me that we should share cab, and beautiful blabla, I pretended to be really stupid and said "Sim Taxi... (Yes, a cab.) Beautiful hm? I like it better than walking. What? Sorry, no portugese... nao fala. Boa noite! Good night." and closed the door.
I had a nice chat in portugese with my taxi driver on the way home. My portugese is actually getting a lot better, but no need to tell the drunk guy ;)

Wednesday I was taught how to dance...

2009-07-03T18:21:00.003-03:00

... Sertanejo Music.
There is not much to blog about that night. 3 colleagues of mine and me, in a bar, drinking fresh cold yummy beer and listening to a live band and dancing to it.
They taught me the steps which was easy (some songs require one step, others two, but generally thats it ;) and now its a matter of practice...
Though I must say: Noone can leadn and is easier to dance with than Luis! Puppet, I miss you :)

Tonight (Friday) I will give it some more practice... :D

Here some pictures:

Kindergeburtstag: When a kid's birthday turns out to be a massive event!

2009-06-30T21:51:00.003-03:00

Last sunday, my boss invited a lot of people from the office to come to his son's eight's birthday party. It was supposed to be a soccer party so everyone should come dressed up in the jersery of his/her favourite team (that's the story why I bought a Germany jersery, remember?).

When we arrived at the place, it turned out to be a big party room with foosball/kicker, trampolin, carussel, basketball and many many other games for kids and a part with tables for the older people to be seated with food and drinks and a hell of a lot decoration. They even had people to entertain the kids with soccer games (penalty shots), medals to be won and many more things.

But not only the kids were entertained... actually, the kids did not care much about the whole entertainment... they rather played on the super playground with all these games and possibilites than listening to a lady explaining... Thus, we were entertained. Danceing games for couples, penalty shots (the men even had to sing the hymns of their favourite teams, we women just had to name them), and musical quizzes.

It was a lot of fun, I can tell you and seriously everyone was acting as if we were eight ourselves. Look at the picture and the video of the dancing competition to judge yourself... Our boss and his wife won it by the way, though Warley and Wagner also turned out to be great dancers (some might say Helio being the boss of most dancing judges had a slight advantage) :D

[ooops, youtube just always stops before the video is uploaded... maybe I can do that when I have my own internet and am not in the hotel anymore]

Just Dance...

2009-06-27T10:23:00.004-03:00

I went out to a very cool Pub/Club yesterday night. While from the outside it looked very posh, inside it was a mixture of an irish pub and a rock club, decorated with posters of bands from the beatles over kiss to nirvana. It had some space to sit, a nice dancefloor and a stage which was already filled with instruments for the band that would play tonight.

The band came on stage. They had a keyboarder who would have easily fit in a skate punk band with his outfit and piercings, next to him a guy with rhasta hair who could have been Bob Marley's missing cousin on the bass, in the middle the singer with long uncombed hair, a plaid shirt and a voice you could have put on a The Darkness record, the guitar player a big bear with no hair but big tattoes who would have not looked wrong on stage with Flogging Molly or The Dropkick Murphy's and last but not least a nice looking young guy on the drumset who, if he lived next to you, probably would walk your dog and mow your lawn on weekends.
Now, this is a crazy combination... What do you think a band like this opens up with (except for an amazing bass solo from the rhasta guy)?
Yes, that's right, they opened up with "Take On Me" from A-ha! :D Oh, did I mention it was an `80s Party? ;)

I had a real fun night there and it was interesting to see how brazilian girls dress up for a night out... The craziest dress I saw was what looked like a big golden "potato bag" but it fit with the girl that was constantly repeating her own little dance routine somewhere between "The Robot" and "Ententanz" (also known as the Hooters Chicken Song or something). But in general, the skirts are shorter, the high heels are higher (not below 10cm) and the lips are redder ;)
But apparently there is 5 girls on every man in Goiânia, so the competition is big... maybe that's it :D
But even though there were tons of willing ladies out on the dancefloor this one old and ugly guy in a glitter shirt kept hitting on my friend Sthela. Brazilians don't like to accept a "no, thanks" so he was coming back all the time to talk to us and trying to get Sthela to dance with him. His opening line (he tried it more than once with the same line) was always said to me: "Oh, you could you please introduce me to your pretty firend?" After the fourth time I still did not know his name but was so annoyed that I said "Okay, Sthela this is the weird guy in a women shirt; weird guy in a women shirt this is Sthela" Fortunately he did not speak any english, so Sthela and I had a good laugh and he was happy cause he figured I had said something nice about him :D

Now its a nice sunny saturday morning and Sthela, Nathalia and me are going to look for nice furniture... hopefully we find a nice and, most important of all, comfortable bed for me and a nice sofa and puff (yes, dear Germans, a puff... its a Sitzsack and said "poufie"... it has nothing to do with whorehouses) for Sthela.

Sao Joao - Gym Party on the Roof Top!

2009-06-25T09:55:00.003-03:00

As everyday I went to the hotel's gym yesterday night and did my usual work out. When I arrived though, the girl at the entrance was wearing ponytails left and right behind her ear and had her cheeks colored bright red and with painted freckles... Upstairs in the gym, the room was decorated and outside on the terrace seats and tables were prepared. However, noone was there yet.

So I started my workout and did not wonder anymore about it. When I finished an hour later and wanted to leave, one of the trainers told me to come back up later for the party. I am "just" a hotelguest, who is thus allowed to use part of the gym for free without really being a memeber, but Daniela said "You are a hotelguest, right? Well, you are here all the time, so you should come up anyways to get to know some more of the 'students'"
I thought that was very nice, especially since they new that, living in a hotel for nearly two weeks and not knowing the traditional brazilian food eaten on Sao Joao's day, they knew I couldnt really add anything to the potluck dinner.
So of course I went upstairs later and met some really nice people. I was introduced to everyone as "This is Anna, she comes from Germany and will live in Goiania" and everyone was really interested in what I do here, and how I got here, and, and, and... :)

My hour on the treadmill was quickly cancelled out by all the food I just had to try (Anna, do you know this? No? Oh, you have to try it, its really good! ... Oh, look, something new, its traditional, you should try it! ... No, but seriously, I made those and all my friends say I make the best! You really need to take some! ...)
But I must admit, it was all very tasty. Food here is heavy, but very tasty.

Later on, two guys that work out in this gym brought a guitar and sang live Sertaneja Music, which is the traditional music here... country music, that is. Most of the party guests were dressed up for this day, with plaid dresses, strawheats or plaid shirts and cowboy hats, and knew how to sing a long.
I did not really get into the music, it is not bad, but really, a little whiney... (For the Germans among you readers: The singing is a bit like Xavier Naidoo in portugese, although the music is a little happier)

Most of the evening I spent talking to Cynthia (who introduced me to many people and showed me around), Junio (the personal trainer of the gym who also prefers rock music over sertaneja and who would tell everyone that I seriously jumped into the non-heated pool at night) and Diego, Pedro and another guy whose name I unfortunately forgot (who are the youngest members of the gym with 20 to 23 years). They were very interested in what I do and how I like it here, and of course they wanted to talk about soccer ("Bodouskee", "Swinestygar", and "Balakke" meaning Podolski, Schweinsteiger and Ballack). Fortunately I learned a lot about soccer through my friends, the worldcup and the eurocup so I was actually able to talk to them about some things.

All in all I had a lot of fun, but one last random story stays to be told:
While we were all partying outside on the roof's terrace there was one guy still exercising inside and he was the reason why Diego and Pedro did not get to work out, they were just too irritated... It was a skinny, longhaired, tall guy in a white muscle shirt and colorful '90s shorts. Shorts, meaning short. Really short.
Do you know the episode of FRIENDS where Phoebe has this super active and sporty boyfriend? No? Well, let me tell you: Phoebe's boyfriend in that episode and the guy yesterday have two things in common: The very short shorts, and the fact that they are not wearing any underwear... Like the friends, we could have needed a Gunther too yesterday night, to tell the guy that he is showing way too much skin.

Pictures of Hotelroom View

2009-06-24T13:46:00.007-03:00

Here you can find some pictures of the city center... some "Plattenbau" high buildings and, compared to other LA Cities, quite some trees!
And of course, a picture of my first ever soccer jersey :)

And for the really curious ones a little video with pictures of the city! I did not make it myself, I just happened to found in on youtube :)

Winter Weekend

2009-06-22T13:01:00.003-03:00

It is winter, here in Goiania. At least that is what the lady in the elevator told me today, dressed up in a long sleeve blouse and a jacket. I look up at the infoscreen and it shows me 21°C and it is not even noon yet...
However, this clearly explains why I was the only person at and in the pool the whole saturday. The otherones must have stayed inside, wrapped up in a big pullover drinking hot chocolate.

But seriously, this winter season here is weird. I was shopping in the big shoppingcenter on sunday, and C&A is selling big boots and warm wollen pullovers. What I needed was new short jeans as my airshipment arrived but is still held in storage until I am able to move into my new home (I am with appartment nr. 4 now and it is still not 100% sure if it works out).

In the end I found great new short jeans, and an adapter for my PC which thus finally works again, and a couple of new CDs which are just amazingly cheap here. My new favourite to listen to while working is the Soundtrack of "Into The Wild" (a movie which you all should watch, by the way, if you haven't done so already).

Last but not least, I bought my first ever soccer jersey! It is a Germany jersey and it says my name and the nr. 5 (-> birthday) on the back! I need it for a party I am invited to next sunday.
Amazingly, what a World Cup and a Euro Cup (both of which I enjoyed and really followed) could not do, Brazil does in less than 2 weeks! :)

Here a little proof on how much "winter" it is:

Fingers Crossed

2009-06-19T17:18:00.003-03:00

So apparently all of you crossed your fingers very well!
After a couple of really disappointing appartments, we by chance found a really nice one. Brand new and ready in 10 (brazilian) days... The owner of the place accepted the offer that I put down regarding what has to be done in the appartment and what rent I can pay.
But do not stop crossing your fingers yet, cause the paperwork still has to work out and I do not believe a thing, until I can sign it...

At work I learned a lot about numbers today. I love numbers, don't get me wrong, but this was really really a lot. And a lot of background to understand the numbers...
I was rewarded though with a great lunch. Ornellas, who explained me all those numbers, took me to his home for lunch as his wife had invited me to come over.
This was not just very sweet, it was also very yummy!
Especially the meet, which was cooked with the bones, onion and garlic, some vinegar, spices and wine in a big pressure cooker and it was super soft.
Unfortunately I could not eat as much as maybe brazilians do, because the weather is very warm and the food is very heavy... ...and I did not want to fall asleep in front of my PC three in the afternoon ;) I hope they did not think I did not like it, because I just ate one plate...

It is the weekend now, and I am happy to be able to enjoy the sun for two days, cause it gets dark here relatively early (pretty much exactly when I leave work ;). I brought some sunscreen 50, which I will definitely need and cannot wait to use.
The hotel pool and gym is on the top floor so it also has a very cool view which I so far only saw at night... I will take some pictures and post them, as soon as I have a working pc in the hotel...

Paperwork

2009-06-18T10:37:00.000-03:00

Hallo Ben! Schön dass Du auch da bist! ;)

I had thought I would never get to that point, but: all necessary paperwork is done. Now, thats not completely true as my drivers liscence and a home are kinda necessary too, but I can receive a salary now, I am fully legally here, fully employed and on payroll.

I will look at three more apartments this afternoon, and as me crossing my fingers seems to not have been enough effort for my house hunt so far, I ask you all to cross your fingers too!
I still do not have an adapter for my PC, so I will let you know tomorrow if your efforts in fingers crossing and Daumendrücken have helped.

First Days in Goiania

2009-06-17T11:52:00.002-03:00

On sunday night I left Sao Paulo to go to Goiania. I flew from Congonhas Airport, which is the crazy airport I wrote about some days ago. It is really crazy. The way to the runway looks like your in a car or bus, driving down Calle Serrano / Hohenzollernring / Grande Cote...

The first night was awful because I litterally got the worst room in the hotel. It was so loud, you cannot imagine.
However, I was supposed to start monday morning with house hunting, so that was something to look forward too while trying to fall asleep everytime a big truck passed by and woke me.

House hunting started off really terrible. The first place didnt get the keys, the second place didnt feel right, the ones we found by chance didnt feel good either. In the end, we passed another company and just went in to ask if they had something, and they did.
I looked at two possible new homes which both were really nice, though the first one just felt "right"...
Now, guess what? It AGAIN did not work out. I really really could bang my head against a wall right now. Again I had two days to be happy about it and feel good, and again I learn later that unfortunately its not possible. This time, because the landlord apparently changed his mind and wants to sell it now instead of renting it. And, as if that wasnt enough, the other pretty place (which I thought would be a good alternative just in case) will not work out either, cause its around 360 Reais above my budget(about 125 Euros) and he will not move a little bit at all. And well, I am not willing to pay above budget for the back-up choice, therefore the house wasnt perfect enough... so, househunting can start all over again.

But there are good news as well.
The people here in the office are really nice and all very helpful. So far, I am not of much use to them, because I still dont have access to all the systems (but at least I have a pc and a phone and a seat)!
Yesterday I spent nearly all day doing paperwork for my workbook (which I think is a bit like the Lohnsteuerkarte in Germany) and for my bank account.

Hopefully tonight, I get to buy an adaptor for my PC at home. The batteries are empty and there is no place in the hotel room where the plug fits... I went to one shopping mall yesterday, but unfortunately they didnt have one...

Lets wait and see.

The Crazy Roadtrip

2009-06-15T18:49:00.004-03:00

As we couldnt spend the whole nice weekend in Sao Paulo while nobody is in the city, we decided to follow the traffic jam and head to Campos do Jordao.
Luckily, Sandra got a car and a navigational system, so we thought it would not be a big deal to drive where everyone else is going too.

What we did not know is, that our GPS had no freakin idea about reading maps and finding way that are "usuable". Thats how we were lead from the highway through a little city and against a oneway street. Now, we wondered, but did not think that just because of one oneway street the GPS would be totally wrong. Afterall, there were NO SIGNS for a one way street and if it wasnt for a coconut dealer that waved at us like a berzerk, probably nobody would have noticed us. Not even ourselves.
So we turned the car around and followed "Uschi's" (thats what we called our GPS as it is the stereotype name for a dumb german girl) advice. We headed towards the road "SP 50" of which we thought it was a highway. Well, let me get straight to the point: It is not a highway. Barely even a real street. But we were supposed to drive on it for "more than 40 kilometers".
I can tell you, it was an adventure. It was a tiny street full of holes and red earth, partly the street fell down the cliff, the curves were extreme and when Sandra and I did not stay silent because we were concentrating so hard on the street, all we would ever say was "oh my god", "do they always go this way? there must be another way?!" or "they should use that as Formula 1/Rallye/DTM racing track". Sandra was driving, I was the co-pilot... "careful, sharp right".
But: We were really really happy about the view we had from there. We went very high up and due to the way the street went we really had the view of a lifetime.

Here is a little video (dont listen, we talk weird):
[oooops, this follows tomorrow. not enough battery]

In the end, the trip took us 3.5 hours instead of two and when we finally arrived in Campos do Jordao. You must imagine it like this: We came from the left, down a hill and lined into a huge traffic jam with cars from Sao Paulo. So there was another way! And it was apparently very full (while our way was empty...) Probably we would have stood an hour in the traffic jam if we had found the right way right away, so whatever.
The town is really cute. Its a bit like the St.Moritz / Aspen of Brazil where people just go to show of their expensive cars and clothing. Against all stories it was not cold at all, though it is higher than 1000m. Noone cared though, they all were wearing fur, and hats, and gloves, and boots. Only Sandra and me were in T-Shirts :)

On the way back we decided to lock "Uschi" away in the glove compartment and to just follow the Sao Paulo signs, in order to find the other way. Following signs really wasnt easy as mostly there weren't any, but we made it.
It was faster and a lot more comfortable to go this way with police lined up everywhere and many people on a three lane road. But: It was kind of boring compared to the start.

What a crazy adventure this was. And one thing is for sure: Der Weg ist das Ziel!

And now some pictures:

Sandra's Housewarming

2009-06-12T10:02:00.002-03:00

Sandras Air Shipment arrived faster than thought in her appartment (and she packed a whole lot more than me... I should have packed more... ;). As it is also partly furnished she has a bed, a kitchen and table and chairs, but best of all: She has a Churrasco on her terrace!
As she had packed pots and pans and plates in her air fright, we decided it would be a great idea to spend the evening at her appartment to have a little housewarming party. Unfortunately everyone we know here is away for the weekend or had to work today, so we decided to cook some spaghetti and open a red wine and relax.
As we were shopping we looked at the meat and I asked her if she by any chance had a churrasco, more jokingly, but she said yes, so we decided to put a big piece of meat onto it, just like I was taught by Gerwin (my former boss who had spent years in Argentina practicing how to grill meat).

Her appartment is really great. It is over two stories and very open with a big terrace. On the terrace there is even a jacuzzi which unfortunately is not cleaned yet. From the terrace on can see a faked Eiffel Tower all across the city and tons of big houses of course.

As it is still very rainy we decided to not go to the beach this weekend, but rather go out in Sao Paulo tonight and then make a day trip to the mountains on Saturday. More about this later.

Hortitec 2009

2009-06-11T11:33:00.003-03:00

As I was pretty much done with all organizational things in the office, I did not go to Bayer on Wednesday but joined Franziska (whom I know from Bayer CropScience in Germany and who is here since 2007) to go to Hortitec, an agricultural fare, in Holambra.

We left at 6:15h in the morning to avoid the heavy Sao Paulo traffic and got to Holambra around 08:30h. Holambra is supposed to be a little Holland Colony with windmills, hollad style houses and, get this: they have "drempels" and the funny signs for them too but they forgot the one and only famous holland holiday sentence "let op drempels!" :D Okay, I know you wont understand this if you are neither called Elli nor Toni or Lucky but whatever ;)

The fare was a little outside the town so we started to take a look at the fare. Bayer had a very nice stand there and one could look at many many nice flowers and vegetables from seed breeders and at big agricultural machinery too.
It was actually very interesting and I learned a lot, especially about the cotton and tomato markets.

After the fare we checked out the little town, but really, the whole Holland thing is a bit of a marketing joke. They basically built normal flat bungalows and placed a holland look alike front before them. It looks like they forgot the movie set there when filming was over :D
Still, it was really fun! And of course, they have wonderful flower shops.

On the way back it started to rain very very heavily and we stood a little in the traffic jam, but it was still okay. At least comparing it to Sandras first driving experience that same day: It took her over 2 hours to go from Bayer to the hotel, in the rain and when everyone leaves for the long holiday weekend...

Here you can find some pictures:

Lazy Sunday in the Park

2009-06-09T15:55:00.003-03:00

My sunday was really easy going.
I woke up not too early and the sun was shining so I decided to go for a nice walk around the area after breakfast. I found a sunday vegetable and fruit market in the roads not far from hear and strolled a little through the stands, of course not forgetting to take care of my wallet... It seemed really calm though and the market was really nice.

When I came back to the hotel my room was just being arranged, so I grabbed my Lonely Planet and sat down in the café next to the hotel entrance to wait for Sandra.
Sandra is also from Bayer CropScience and Germany and arrived in Sao Paulo only two days before me, so we are having the same troubles and issues with bureaucracy and the same experience of being completely new in the city.

We decided to go to the Parque Ibirapuera, which is not far from the hotel and can be compared to the Central Park in New York. It is the biggest park in Sao Paulo City and about 120.000 people (apparently) visit it every sunday. We were two of those today :)
The park is really nice and full with families on one end, and full of kissing and flirting teenagers looking like Emilie the Strange an other Emo Figures on the other end. In between one can find a couple of Oskar Niemeyer buildings and museums. We looked at the Ibirapuera Auditorium (which is also known as the "tongue") and we went to the Sao Paulo Museum of Modern Art of which the temporary exhibition is always free on Sundays. Most of the time though, we spent chatting and sitting in the sun.

Later on we decided to go have a nice drink and go to a Sushi Rodzio (aka "All You Can Eat"). So we drank a Sake with fresh Lytchee (or however you spell that) and had what felt like a ton of great Sushi and Sashimi.
And as I learned from Kaoru how to behave like a good Japanese, we took pictures of the Sushi ;) No seriously, I only took those pictures for Kaoru answering to her picture series of the Bento del Dia in Tokyo.

Here are the pictures from the park and the Sushi:

Feijoada and Caipirinhas

2009-06-09T10:13:00.002-03:00

On Saturday I went to have a typical brazilian lunch: feijoada. It is a stew made of black beans and with meat. All kinds of meat, but in the restaurant you could chose whether you want tongue or ear or just sausage in it :D
With it I had Caipirinha, but not like we know it at home. I had it with Maracuja and it was soooooo yummy! And then I had one with red berries which was also soooooo yummy. Basically one can have Caipirinha with whatever fruit one likes and I love it =)

Later on we went to Matthias place, a friend of Susi. From his balcony I had a crazy view over all the high buildings of Sao Paulo, it looked insane! Especially when a plane flew by to land in Sao Paulo Congonhas, which is in the middle of the city (and the lights to lead the planes' way are built on top of the buildings!).

Here you can find a video of it:

Wurst

2009-06-06T12:36:00.000-03:00

Sorry to all those readers who do not speak any German, but really, this post would not make anysense in any other language but German... =)

Einer meiner Kollegen, von denen ich gestern einiges Bereich Strategy und Forecasting gelernt habe, hat ein Jahr als Austauschschüler in Deutschland verbracht.
Als er ankam, konnte er genau zwei Wörter sagen. Kartoffel und Wurst. Und was das bedeuten sollte wusste er auch nicht. Es hatte ihm halt irgendwann mal irgendwer beigebracht als die essentiellen Wörter schlechthin.
Kaum in Deutschland angekommen hat ihm seine Gastfamilie zur Begrüßung einen Sekt angeboten. Alle hoben die Gläser und sagten laut "Prost". Rafael dachte er hätte das Wort wiedererkannt, schaute fröhlich in die Runde und sagte laut zum erhobenen Glas "Wurst!".

Es sei ihm so peinlich gewesen, erzählte er mir gestern nachdem wir in der Kantine waren. Ich fands aber total lustig und sagte das sei auch nicht peinlich, die Wörter seien sich ja auch sehr ähnlich. Da musste er auch lachen und sagte dass sei sehr nett, aber nun könnte er ja Deutsch und wüsste genau dass die Wörter sich so ähnlich ja nun auch nicht seien. Wär aber egal, jetzt wüsste er es ja und hätte zudem immer noch eine lustige Geschichte parat.

Fuits and Tennis Shoes

2009-06-06T12:01:00.000-03:00

Now, as this might sound like a weird combination, these are the two things I really want to tell you about right now.

It is saturday today and I woke up at 8 already, even though I stayed up until 2am brazilian time yesterday watching a movie. I had the most amazing breakfast ever, and breakfast is probably the thing I like most about being here so far (well, I must admit though that I haven't seen that much yet)! Fruits, Fruits, and Tropical Fruits! And they taste soooo much better than the ones that we get in Germany after riping for weeks in a warehouse.

As it was still early and I had nothing better to do, I walked the four blocks to the shopping center Ibirapuera. On my way I realized that what Ulf told me on Thursday night was absolutely true. The people walking on the street keep looking at each other carefully. They look into your face as if they wanted to say "I saw you, I know what you look like..." The hotel I live in is in a barrio called Moema, which is pretty safe and many people are walking around on the street, but still one can see that people are always aware of what is happening all around them. It not like the dreamy wandering around like I prefer to do it in Cologne ;)

The shopping center is pretty big and with many different shops for all kinds of styles and things. However, what one can find most are tennis shoes. And I dont mean sneakers, but the typical white, shiny tennis shoes. Paulistas seem to love them, cause I saw at least 10 shops for tennis shoes on the three floors of the shopping center and they were all called things like "the world of tennis", "tennis no.1", "all tennis", ... I would have expected to find more soccer shoes to be honest ;)

Afterwards I went to the supermarket to get some water and fruits and now I am back in the hotel. Its 12.15 and I am wondering what to do with this beautiful day... It is at least 25°C outside, no sign of the coming "winter", so I willl go through my Lonelyplanet now and see what cool stuff can be done. Lets see what I find...

Madita grüsst Pims :)

2009-06-05T21:50:00.000-03:00

I just watched Madita, a movie my sister gave me the last night in Germany.
We used to watch it when we were little and Madita and Pims remind me of ourselves when we were small...
Its like travelling 15 years back within seconds =)

Numb3rs

2009-06-05T19:16:00.000-03:00

I can forecast here and now, that I will use a loooooot more numbers in my new job than I thought I would.
But thats okay, I guess I will get used to it :D

So, that was one thing I learned today. On my first real day in Brazil. Meaning, awake and communicating ;)
I spent all day with the three strategy guys and they explained me how the forecasting works in Brasil and one jokes in Brazil and pretty well also: How a work day works in Brasil. And I like it.
It was a long day though, I just got home, spending two hours in the every(fri)day traffic jams of Sao Paulo to get back to the hotel.

Its a friday night, but I think I am going to stay in and watch a movie. I just went to the "Tante Emma Laden" across the street and got some water and guaraná and the "lanchonette" next to it had a little bbq put up where I ate a yummy little piece of meat on a wooden stick ( I think in English thats a Kebab, but then a Kebab is something totally different in German, where what I ate is a Spiesschen; so whatever, I ate meat on a stick... :D)

Now all of that was a little chaotic, but I think you know me well enough to know that this is how my brain works ;)

Arrived

2009-06-04T17:25:00.000-03:00

The moment I left my family at the security check, I really thought I did a terrible mistake leaving. 5 minutes later, the feeling was gone, but that was a shock second, really.

The flight to Madrid was, well, like always. And when I got off the plane I thought: Wow, nearly two years ago I arrived packed like this to live here for a while... mh, wouldnt be a nice idea to just stay here... maybe the next job... ;)

My flight to Sao Paulo was everything but always or calm. The news of the Air France flight really haven't helped me in being calm and unfortunately the weather did not want to help me either.
It was very turbulent and I did not sleep for more than half an hour in one session because I was woken up by heavy shakes every once in a while. Once over Brazil the turbulences were finally over and I got to sleep for another hour before landing.

In Sao Paulo they had the massive amount of 3 people ready to check the passports of two jumbojets who just arrived from Madrid and Rome... I stood there, half asleep for over two hours and was already scared that the driver leaves without me.
But of course, everything turned out well.

I checked into a nice little hotel, this time its a little closer to night life too, and had some rest before I had some appointments for work.

Tonight I will go to dinner with some people and I think its gonna be fun =)
On Saturday I hopefully meet Thais, Camilo, maybe Julio and some others for a little IE reunion, which would also be amazing.

So thats it for the day, I need a tiny bit of sleep before going out... Tomorrow at 8, I gotta be ready for a training day in office...

Abfahrt

2009-06-03T11:36:00.000-03:00

Es ist alles gepackt, der letzte Businessplan bewertet, die letzte Versicherung gekündigt und seit heute bin ich offiziell kein Bürger Deutschlands mehr.

Oh, that was German.
Well, all is packed and all is organized and I am officially not living in Germany anymore. I left. I have it written here, with a blue stamp of the city of Leverkusen.

In half an hour I am leaving to the airport to check in and to leave. And finally there comes the point that Jenny thought would never come: I am scared. Not badly, but anxiously. I would lie if I said the Air France Crash wouldnt make me feel a little weird about flying over the atlantic, and yes, at one moment or the other I thought "What the hell am I doing here?"

But most of you know me well enough to figure that this mood doesnt last. There is no way back anyway, so why worry? Rather smile and laugh and wonder what awaits me. Happily.

Goodbye and see you when I landed ;)

24h

2009-06-02T14:17:00.000-03:00

It is time to actually stick to my resolution and to write into my blog. In 24 hours my flight leaves for Madrid, where I will change planes to fly to Sao Paulo.

All this waiting and now it is finally time. Weird, somehow. And so much that happened and that had to be done in the last week.
I spent the last long weekend in Holland at the beach, got a little tan and enjoyed. Then of course, all the other things like packing needed to be done quickly as lying lazy on the beach does not really pack anything... I was in Rome for work from Monday to Wednesday night, so this didnt really help me in packing either, but I loved it. Finally, on Thursday, when I had a day off I really sorted things out as the rest of my stuff was supposed to be picked up on Friday morning. On Friday morning however, I was told that the people would run late and only arrive at tweleve, so all the rush for nothing ;) Once everything was packed I had to bring my car back to the rental station and drive by the bank to coordinate that I am leaving the country... however, they didnt really believe it and wanted proof (which I couldnt give, cause of course the offices were closed and I could only go on Tuesday). Also on Friday, Rémy's little daughter Julia was born. She is the cutest little girl on earth and I am very very happy for Ruth and Rémy!!! =)
On saturday I picked up my friend Jenny and we drove in a pretty convertible and nice loud music to the 30th birthday party of Schröder. On the way I dropped off a little joke birthday gift at another friends house. I am not sure what he is thinking about it (but he will never ever read this, so whatever) but I had my fun handing it to his dad who had no clue whatsoever who I am or where I came from on a random Saturday afternoon... Plus, if I say "or else I will send it to you by mail" I need to stick to it ;)
Either way, I spent a very very nice weekend in Herford and around and the party was amaaaaaazzing.

The only sad part was, that Vanni really started to cry cause I am leaving. It made me feel miserable. But then again, I am so happy that things are finally starting. We listened to some sad songs like Westernhagen's "Freiheit" and "Freunde" from Die Toten Hosen and in the end, the smile was back on her face. ouf.... I mean, I am far away, but not thaaaaat far... :)

Sunday we spent on the couch and on the terrace. Thats it ;)

On Monday I drove home, again with the opened car and loud music and to be honest: I felt like the cooooolest person on earth with my hair blowing in the wind... hahaha. Seriously. I loved it. And I heard a new song in the radio, which just fit so perfectly... It is called "Wir werden uns wiedersehen" (We will see again) from Selig.
Monday night I spent with baking cakes (though there werent as many eggs in the fridge as I was told, so I had to postpone the cheesecake to Tuesday morning) and had friends over to finish of the beers that were left over from my party in April. This time Jenny nearly started crying but then we said goodbye and see you soon, and I am back soon, etc. quickly and saved her from a messed up make-up ;) It is so weird to see friends worry so much and be so sad. Makes me sad. Yet, and thats even weirder but true, it also makes me feel happy because it shows me that those people are better friends then I could ever wish for...

Today was the last day in the office. And as weird it was to come back after 1.5 years, as weird it is to leave again. We had a ton of cake and coffee and nice speeches and well, I will be back ;) Hehehe.

Thats it so far. I will go now and "dine in the castle" with my parents, my sister and her boyfriend... it is a nice little restaurant here in town with a nice terrace and I think it is going to be a great last night.

By this time tomorrow, I will be somewhere over Paris ;)

Here the Toten Hosen Song called "Freunde" ("Friends")

Goiânia

2009-03-25T18:51:00.000-03:00

So I finally did arrive in Goiânia.

It was a long way to get here, but I made it. And Sao Paulo International airport now officially is the most boring airport in the whole wide world. I mean, seriously. The Goiânian airport on the other hand is just very small. It reminded me a little bit of the airport in Siem Reap, Cambodia. Just one little house, two belts and a walking way where you walk from the plane to the baggage claim, all across the airport.

I was really tired, so I really didnt see much of what was going on. I was picked up by Georgia, the girl who organizes my relocation, and Ismael, a guy that comes from Goiânia and that also helps me around and shows me everything.I went to the hotel and slept.

The next day I met Ismael and Georgia and we did a city tour for the whole day. They showed me all the different areas and places and we stopped for coffee and had a long chat in the sun. It was really nice. The city reminds me a bit of cuba's and mexico's little cities that I have seen. A little run down on one hand, on the other kinda charming. It is very green but then again, the buildings are sooooo grey. I dunno. It is safe and seems nice, and I think I could live here. Its a big step away from europe though. In many ways. The streets arent as cosy nice and pretty as what I had in madrid, but the living conditions in a condo with pool and everything are above all standards I could ever afford in Europe. A little weird, that feeling.

We had lunch at a place that serves local food and it was very very yummy and a lot! Food, I think, is really important in this town... They have so many little restaurants and at night they all go to the burger places...

We also went to the mall to get me a brazilian sim card and to see whats going on there... basically, we just had a very nice, relaxed day of walkind and driving around, seeing things and talking about everything... They are really two very nice people.
Also, we went to this one place where they have nearly 60 different sorts of fruit icecream. I tried one, but I was still full from lunch...

There isnt really much more to say, except that I had a great day but am tired from the wierd heat/humidity and that tomorrow we will go house hunting. That is really a very exciting part, as the flats I am going to look at are going to be really nice and big and with a pool for the condo!!!
Crazy, crazy, so much luxury! Tomorrow then I will also take pictures... I didnt today, I kinda forgot...

Well, as you can see from my post, I am really tired... I look over it and its a little all over the place... Ah well, maybe tomorrow I know more things to say... :)

Visiting Brazil

2009-03-15T17:57:00.000-03:00

So, it is finally official... well, I still don't have a ticket, but after weeks of begging and organizing and making people find a way around stupid rules, we all together found a way and now I am officially allowed to fly to Brazil for the wekk 23rd to 29th of March in order to attend a couple of regional meetings where I will be able to meet my future boss and colleagues. It also finally gives me a chance to visit the place where I will be moving in a month and a bit... So I am very excited about going really, though, I am a little scared as well... but who knows... its gonna be great, I hope, and why shouldn't it be?! Hahaha, yeah, I am really kinda trying to keep me on the positive road here... not that easy all the time...

So I received most of my vaccines last week, but I gotta go back to get a second and third rabies vaccine, but it isnt just rabies: it's against vampires :P That's what they call the little bats that live in the countryside and regularily dive down onto cows and sheep in order to push their teeth into their meat and to suck out some blood. And well, sometimes, the cow turns out to be human... ooops... kinda scary, isn't it?

That's all there is to say about Brazil for now, but I will tell you more as soon as I have actually been there ... :)

And, just as a little sidenote, I couldn't resist to open the chimney and to blow air into it to get the fire a little more going, and as a result I have to clean the floor now... ah well...

Pictures of the Past

2009-02-02T10:31:00.001-02:00

I spent my weekend in Bremen, where my aunt and uncle as well as my Grandma live. I went there because my Grandma is now nearly 89 years old and she is getting very very forgetful. Meaning, if she knows who you are its already very good.
I wanted to see her before I go to Brazil as in this age, you never know what happens. So it came that I spent some hours drinking tea or coffee with her and saying all the same things over and over again. Sad somehow, great on the otherhand.

It is just so very sad to see that she always feels lonely. Even if you spend many many hours with her together, as soon as you are out of the door she will feel alone and think, forgetting about the visitors she had earlier, that noone cares or comes to see her. The thought of her feeling so alone makes me sad and crazy.

On the other hand, she seems to feel satisfied with her life and the world around her. She does not complain about more than being lonely and she arranges her life as good as she can. That makes me proud. It makes me proud because she had a rough life the first 20 or 25 years. Her mom died early and she was sent to a very strict boarding school which she hated. As soon as she could leave she left to Paris to study french and become a translator. She came back to Germany when World War II had started and her hometown Nürnberg had been bombed. There she stood, a young girl with a suitcase in front of the empty burnt down house of her parents.
Later, her younger brother and father were killed at the war-front and she had many more years of horror and war to live through.
My grandma married my grandfather, however, she was not good enough for her mum(ster)-in-law. Not even with a grandchild for her parents-in-law she was good-enough, as it was only a girl. It was only a couple of years later that things changed, but then they really did and I think my grandma had an amazing live with three great children and a wonderful husband. They lived in Hamburg, Caracas (Venezuela), Munich and Frankfurt; and the appartment in Spain was (and is still) always filled with family. Probably these great years made up for the trouble she had encountered, resulting in that satisfaction that she seems to have regardless of her lonelyness and her fading strength to walk around or to remember things...

Before I drove home yesterday, we sat at her little coffee table and looked at old and very old pictures from my family. Cute pictures of me, my sister and my cousins; pictures of my young dad and his sisters; pictures of my grandparents. She didn't recognize to much and kept confusing my cousins or me with my dad when he was little, but yet she enjoyed looking at all those pictures I think.

In the end I found a picture of my dad, on the balcony of their appartement in Hamburg-Altona, being nearly two years old. His blond hair goes all the way over his ears, he smiles, wears a bib overall of cord-rows and a white longsleeve shirt underneath. He looks exactly like a girl. Like me. We put a picture of me, age one and a half, next to it. I smile, my blond curly hair reaches my ears and I am wearing a rose-couloured cord-row bib overall and a white longsleeve shirt underneath. If it wasn't for the black/white vs. coloured, one could exchange the picture from 1955 with the picture from 1986 easily.

Madres

2009-01-22T05:57:00.000-02:00

I am flying back to Madrid today, only for the weekend though.
Wonder if its still gonna be the same. I mean, not much time has passed since we were all really living there and a lot of my friends are still there working, or looking for jobs in this weird time of crisis...
When I was in Canada I had to write this thing called "inner monologue" for English and I wrote it about leaving Canada and hoping to return "home" when I come back for graduation. I got a 100% for my little piece of poetry, however, Ms. Artiss, my English teacher at the time said to me: My dear, I left England when I was small and as much as I wish it would come true, in fact you will never return "home" whenever you left a place. You will always have to stay for a while and make it home again..." She was damn right that smart lady... But nevertheless, Canada stayed at least like a second home to me and I feel comfortable being there.
Madrid, I hope, will stay the same.
Germany really didn't. I feel home and visiting at the same time having to build friendships completely new and trying not to be too sad when I am forgotten to be invited for parties etc.
I think knowing that I will leave to Brazil soon makes it worse.

However, lets stay positive: I gotta catch a plane and keep playing jet-setter. Madrid, party-city, I am coming!

Hungry for Spicy Food

2008-08-23T06:23:00.000-03:00

After coming back from Angkor Wat and my nap, I did not have dinner as I was tired out and the heat and especially the humidity made me lose any appetite.
When I finished my tea this morning and set off in the city the heat was still too much for me to take and to eat in it. Yet, when I arrived at about 12:30 in the middle of Siem Reap the smells got me hungry and full of appetite despite the weather around me.
I sat down in a little soup restaurant with fans, which turned out to be viatnamese and served wonderful spicy food.
On the table next to me sat a girl and we started talking. She comes from Canada and is on her way for two years now, teaching English in school times for a couple of months up to half a year and then moves on to travel until the money is gone (which is when she starts teaching again). We had a really nice talk and later went to the market together to stroll through the various stands of cloths and (fake?) jewllery.

Later on, Kim (thats the canadian girl's name) left to go to the gym. She had already lived in Siem Reap for two weeks now and enjoyed the city and her volountary work.
Myself, I still wanted to rent a bike to see some more parts of the city. I followed all rent-a-bike signs i could find, however, I never found the store that goes with it. Maybe, the few bikes these rental services have were all ready gone and I was too late. I don't know.
Anyways, I decided I should see some more of the city and set off by foot. It didn't take too long for me to realize, that the visit of the temples was not only mindblowing but also heavy leg training (from all the stairs) and my muscles right above the knees were so sore, that I could even feel it when walking camly and really not any stairs or slopes, after I had walked for a while. I kept going but after quite a while decided to sit down in a cafe and to have a nice break over a cold lime juice, just watching the Cambodian People folowing their usual saturday precedures. I enjoyed it a lot. People Watching here is very different than on the terrace of El Lateral in Madrid, where it is mostly about making fun of expensive dresses that make the ladies look like saussages or about the parking skills of girls, whos hair is never the less perfect (eh, Amber?).

As the plan to go to the concert is still standing, I am back now to take a shower and to get everything ready for tomorrow morning.
Later on, I might go back to the city to meet up with Kim again who said she would be in the Banana Leaf bar this night, in the famous pub street. Maybe I can get Martin the swiss guy to come with me, as he is wanting to do some voluntary work and to stay here some longer. Kim could maybe help him with that (yeah yeah, its all about the networking, as always... ;P)

Last but not least, I read the email today that York's wife gave birth to a little baby girl named Rubi! Welcome to Madrid, little one; happy birthday! And Congratulations to Luly and York, the proud parents :)

A Calm Day

2008-08-23T01:44:00.000-03:00

The eight hours of temple sightseeing really were enough. I spent a calm evening yesterday night here at the hostels garden and chatted with a Portugese and a Finnish guy over a couple of Angkor and Lao Beers. Lao Beer by the way is really yummy. You should try it! :)

Today I woke up at nine, went down to the garden and sat there with a couple of Germans and Swiss people to talk about travelling and about Asia in general. I ordered a tea, thinking of a green tea or something, but I received a Lipton Tea. Thought that was wierd.

Other than that, I didn't do much so far. It is just so nice to hang out and chat, and to let the experience sink in.
Maybe I will go and rent a bike to go down to the lake, and tonight I want to go to a free concert in town. Thats all the plan.

Tomorrow my driver will pick me up at 5:30am to go to the airport, where my plane leaves at 7:something... Even though the airport is so tiny, one is supposed to be there an hour early, but luckily I have my iPod and a book :)

Thats it for now, i guess...

The Temples of Angkor

2008-08-22T03:04:00.000-03:00

I did really get up at 4:30am... me! Can you believe it? I hardly can... hehehe
But it was worth it.

At 5am, my driver showed up and we set off in the dark towards the temples of Angkor. Somewhere in the middle of the street were huts to buy your ticket. It comes with a picture, so that you cannot share it.
After one has passed the booth, one keeps on moving on everyday streets and routes which are used by the people, who live in the villages between the temples, all the time. It doesn't feel at all like a museum site, but rather like a temple city, where people have these temples in their live, because they are there for ever, but not because they are something special.

At dawn, I sat at a lake on a little old stone plateau to watch it. The dawn was wierd though, the sky never turned orange nor did one see the sun rise really. It was just light so quickly.
On the other side of the lake was the first temple I saw. I felt like a crazy scientist or lara croft when I wondered through the calm temple in the jungle, as I was the only one there. I had it all to myself, cause most tourists start in the opposite direction to see Angkor Wat at dawn. Me, on the other hand, I listened to Kati and did it the "wrong"way, which was exactly right.

Of course, there were kids again, trying to sell braceletts, coffee or other things. Here, in this surrounding they were a bit annoying, even though they only followed me around outside of the temple itself.

The second temple was Ta Phrom. This is the so called "jungle temple" where trees have grown all over and through the massive walls and stones. Here, they filmed Tomb Raider, but even though I was alone (except for a so called guide) it didnt feel like the first temple. There were too many signs and construction sites to rebuild the temple. However, I liked this temple the most from the small ones, it is just very special with all the trees and the early sunlight.
Funny enough, one of the carvings displays a dinosaur. I wonder how they did know... or who played a very big joke, cause there is really no evidence for the dinosaur to be carved in at any different time than the gods shown in the reliefs.

I went on and saw a couple of more small temples which are not really necessary to mention, but of course, they were beautiful as well. One thing is to mention though: One of the temples was to be climed at own risk, and the stairs are really crazy. As narrow as ten centimetres and high as maybe 35cms... really hard to climb, and horrible to get down. I only climbed the first two levels.

The next highlight was in the City of Angor Thom. Next to another small temple there was a bigger one which is fully under construction right now, to rebuilt a huge reclining buddha. As one couldnt really enter it, they put up huge walls with explanations on how the re-construction works. It was actually started in the 50s, stopped in the war, and only restarted in the mid 90s.

Right in the middle of the City is the temple of Bayon, which is another really beautiful temple with many many towers which have huge faces on them. Unfortunately, I met a lot of tourist groups here (mainly japanese and english, by the way) which took a little of the charme and the some chances for amazing pictures. Still, I thought this was so beautiful that I sat down in the shade for a while and listened to the various guides, whenever I could understand them.

When I went back to search for my driver, I went to get a water. They couldnt change my ten dollar bill (I even think they didnt think it was real) so I gave them my last Riehls. I also wanted to eat something and so I sat down in the place where my driver had a quick meal as well. The girl there spoke english very well, she was about ten I guess, and assured me she could change it for sure. The food was yummy as always, and in the end she gave me nearly all small dollars and one dollar in Riehl, so that was really good.

The last temple I saw was of course the huge and beautiful Angkor Wat. Before one enters it, one has to walk a huge 200m causeway over to big mashes, then go through a 200m wide building used as gate with an entrance so big that an elephant could go through, and in the end another 150 Causeway before one reaches the terrace in front of the temple. Here, I had the post card view on the temple, really, with the five towers sticking out.
I entered and was surprised that there were hardly any tourists left in the building. The bas-reliefs in the galleries are so carefully carved and so detailed, it is amazing.
In the second floor i got a nice few on the towers, but unfortunately, the third level was closed off.
In one of the hallways I sat down for a while to read about Angkor Wat in my book and to take a sip of water. It was very calm and nice.
On my further way through the temple, I passed several buddha statues with golden scarfs and some with candles where people had prayed.

Somehow, the real feel of the temples isnt really possible to be described in words, especially not on a blog while being here, as time is limited. Maybe the pictures can tell more, and in the end I can always sit down with everyone who wants to hear about it and tell the stories over a glass of tinto (which I miss, really) on the terrace :)

After Angkor Wat, I drove back to the hostel. I had been looking at temples for over eight hours, even though I only did the "small"round. I felt smelly and stinky and tired, from waking and sweating in the incredible heat at noon. Luckily I had sunscreen with the number 50... I would have burnt myself otherwise.

I showered, took a nap while it rained heavily and now I will go and get a drink :)

Mmmmh, yummy lime juice...

2008-08-21T10:31:00.000-03:00

I went back outside, as there is no point in sitting in my room of course.
It had cooled down a little and was slowly getting dark, so I decided to get a nice drink somewhere and to read in my travel book about Angkor Wat and its temples before searching for something to eat.
I found a nice bar and at one of the huge tables with couch-like seats sat a guy who seemed to travel alone as well. I figured, maybe he is up for a little chat, which would be more what I felt like than sitting alone, and so I asked if he would mind if I sat with him. He did not and so we started talking. His name is Paul, he is my age and on his travels around the world for quite some time now. It was really nice to talk to someone about seeing the world and I was really impressed by his journey he started over a year ago.
He gave me nice tips for the temples tomorrow and the hint to take a fresh squeezed lime juice from the bar we sat in. I can tell you guys, this juice was sooooo good. Really.
Paul also gave me some tips about where to go out in Siem Reap, where the people are, and where to eat. The hawker stalls here make such great food and it is so cheap, especially when compared to Madrid, ah well, when compared to Europe.
So I had a really nice and calm evening and am full with good food and information, and all set for tomorrow. Thanks Paul! I hope you have a great time in Vietnam, Hong Kong, Australia and where ever you go in between :)
Time to go to bed (and yes, it i insanely early forSspanish timing, but I have been up since 2:30am Cambodian time, and now its 20:42pm... I need these 7 hours of sleep I hope to get before I gotta get up and ready at 4:30am to take a Moto Ride in the dark towards Angkor Wat) Good Night!

PS: This one goes out to Rémy, mon grand frère adopté ;) qui a des beau vacances lune de miel, j'espère! Ce matin j'ai parlé avec une fille francaise (en francais), et quand sa copine est arrivé et nous avait ecouté, elle a pensé que je suis francaise! Pas allemand, ni canadienne, mais francaise.... hehehe, trop cool. Ca me ne paserais jamais, avant. Honestly. ;)

Heat and Sweat, and Laughing Kids.

2008-08-21T04:25:00.000-03:00

I must admit, I took a little nap...
After it had rained so hard, the streets where hardly walkable. Rather they were an orange, muddy puddle and since it was still very early in the morning and since I was a little tired, I decided to take a one hour nap. I didnt really sleep but rather rested and when I went back outside the sun was shining and it was warm. I sprayed myself with anti-mosquito stuff and off I went...

Right at the end of our street I quickly ate a few rice noodles with Mangold, Carrots and Cellerie, for breakfast. Ah well...
I walked along the river towards Psar Chas, the old town market hall. I passed a supermarket and stopped to get two big bottles of water. Drinking water is not drinkable here, and as it was getting warmer and warmer I decided I needed to carry some around. I am a very thirsty person, most of you know this ;) and indeed, the first liter was gone within half an hour...
Before I entered the market I walked a little around the little streets with its many new cafés and restaurants, most of which were filled with americans and british people. The "Pub Street" seemed a lot bigger on the map, however, for the muddy streets and little shop houses in this small town, it fits many bars.
Whereever I went, I was, of course, easily identified as tourist with my "light" hair, light eyes and, most obvious, a huge camera dangling around my neck. One girl came and ead of a note what she had to saz to me: "Hello. Lady. Bracelette, you want to buy?.... Bracelette... Come back later, yes? Later, don't forget about me and bracelettes..." I told her I didn't want it, but she walked another 50 meters with me and constantly repeated that I should remember. "TukTuk? Moto? Lady, Lady!" - "No thanks, I like walking... no really. No." Though the Tuk Tuks here arent real Tuk Tuks like I know them from Thailand. They are rather an old Rikscha with plastik top and a Moto tied up in front of it. They look quite comfortable, but I honestly do not need one. And for Angkor Wat and the Temples tomorrow I have already promised the guy who took me from the airport today, that he can drive me and pick me up at 5 am tomorrow morning. This is how it goes: The ride from the airport is reasonably cheap in order to be your guide at Angkor tomorrow. I had first thought about taking a bike, which I might maybe enjoy a little more, but then again, I want to leave in the dark to see the early morning at Tha Prom, before all the coaches ful of tourists arrive. And if it rains again and gets muddy again, a bike is probably less fun than its motorized big brother... but about that I will be able to tell you more tomorrow night, when I come back.

The shadow of the market hall was very inviting after walking in the sun for a while. Behind the first row of mainly caps and flip flops for the tourists on "Pub Street" a big hall opened where the sellers did not have little, tiny shops with three walls but only a big stone table and maybe a sink where they showed off her fresh food in big and colorful plastic bins that looked like the plastic thingy my flatmates and I use in Madrid to move our wet clothes from the laundry to the balcony in order to dry it... Here, I saw everything swimming in these big pots. Alive little crabs, baby squitin ice water, bananas, carrots, guaves, dragon fruits, mangold, and much more. It looked beautiful, really. Especially the fruit and vedgetables... the dead fish (though not at all stinky yet) is probably nothing for vegetarians.
The real vegetarian hell was behind all that though. An area where even I, and I can stand a lot when it comes to food (well, in countries where people simply do not have fridges): The meat area. It reminded me a lot of what I had seen a couple of years ago in the market of Querétaro, Mexico. The raw meat of all possible animals was lying around on the stone tables without any kind of cooling. It didn't smell that bad, but even the light smell of warm raw meat was not flattering to my nose. I know that I will probably eat part of the meat I saw when I go and have some food from the hawker stalls tonight. But then I won't see, nor smell it before, and it will be well done and fried in palm oil as most things are here, so thats okay. Still, I didn't want to stay in that area to long and neither did I want to take a picture of it. Though it looked quite funny with the selling women sitting with crossed legs on the table with the meat while chopping bones in front of them. They must be very experienced in this, cause neither did their feet get close to the food (obviously not, Cambodian people want clean and fresh food, even if it might be warm) and even there was hardly any space between her crossed feet and the meat she still managed to chop the bones in the space between.
I took a left to head back to the touristy shops and passed many stores with nice linen and cloth and very old sewing machines. At the end of the aisle I found a little bookshop with (nearly) new books. Kati had recommended me a book ("The Gate") about the years of the Khmer Rouge. A true story about a french correspondent who got kidnapped by the Khmer Rouge but survived last minute.

I decided to walk back towards the hostel to take a shower. When I walked along the River again, I saw many Cambodians lying in the shadow of the trees taking a nap. I decided that the nice shadow by the river is a wonderful spot and so sat down, took a big gulp of water and watched a woman fishing in the river.
It was so nice there, that I decided to take the newly bought book out and to read a little. While I was doing so, the little daughter of the fishing lady started wandering around where I sat. She was running and playing, yet she would look at me every once in a while and as soon as I looked back she grinned and ran away. "Hello" she said every once in a while and then ran off.
A few minutes later two other little kids joined her game and together they climbed what once held a swing but now was merely an old steel ruin. They dangled from the top like little monkeys, laughed and said "Helloooo, Helloooooooo". They pointed at my camera and told me to take a picture of their play and they ability to climb like little monkeys. I shot a few pictures, they smiled, I smiled, they kept playing, I kept reading. Every once in a while, when I looked up, they were smiling at me and running after each other. They were really cute.
The fishing ladies daughter was called to help. She took her left shoe (pink with sparkles, but there was no right shoe...) and left, the other kids left too. They said "Bye-bye", smiled and ran with their naked feet along the now dried and dusty, reddish road towards one of the closer shop houses where they went inside.

I finished the chapter I was reading and packed my stuff. On the other side of the street I could see the post office and next to it a golden boat with little temples. According to the story, a monk once crossed the river and his boat was bitten apart by sharks (yes, sharks...). It was bitten into two parts, but they were still swimming. The monk was saved and the boat now is a sacred object. The people were still working on a little temple behind it and it was super interesting to watch them carve signs into the stone.

I took a little detour torwards the hostel, and that is where I am now.
I still haven't showered, which was the original plan, but I will do so soon. Then I will get a new breeze of yummy anti mosquito stuff with 25% DEET (the active ingredient). I have it from Kati, as the highest I was able to buy at globetrotter in Germany was 8% I think. 25% is forbidden to be sold in Europe, but hey, it is Malaria Region and rainy weather... so I rather take a big chunk of spray on chemistry than that. Obviously.

Besotes grandes a todos mis amigos que me faltan mucho!
Und einen Kuss an meine Mama und meinen Papa, die sich immer Sorgen. Alles super hier, wie ihr ja lesen koennt!

On the way to Cambodia

2008-08-20T23:47:00.001-03:00

At 4:00am I left the house with a cab, to Changi Airport.
I checked in and walked towards my gate. On the way there I found a free internet spot and decided to check my emails. Thats where I read about the terrible Spanair plane crash in Madrid.

I felt wierd to wait for boarding of the Singaporean EasyJet "JetStar" and to read about this at the same time.
I even joked with another German guy about how statistically our plane ride should be safe now.

We left Singapore without problems and as it was super cloudy I spend the flight reading about Cambodia and the crazy last three decades.

When we arrived in Siem Reap it was raining heavily and the landing area was flooded with water. The plane, though maybe another 10m above ground made a scary left turn which I had never experienced before. Seconds later it turned a sharp right and I got scared seeing how close the wing came to the ground, when the pilot turned sharp left again while we were hitting ground. The plane slid and was tilted to the left so much, that in the first seconds the aching of the left wheels sounded as if our wings would scratch on the ground. I wasnt the only one shocked in that moment, I can tell you that.
When I exited the plane, the pilots were taking pictures of the wheels and I saw the flooded areas. The sliding must have been "Aquaplaning" (as we call it in Germany), however, the sharp turns before hitting ground I can only imagine as the pilot not being sure of which puddle was the landing area...
Especially after the Madrid news from this morning, this was a scary ride.

To get from the airport to the city I took a Moto. Thanks to Natalie, who took me on her Moto in Madrid, I am not that scared anymore of these vehicles... It was a smooth ride, though the streets didnt look much different than the airport, maybe a little muddier.
On the streets I see kids, cows and many people eating underneath coloful marketing umbrellas. This is how I imagined Cambodia, and it reminds me of Cuba a little bit, though it looks even poorer and more run down.

I got a room at the same hostel Kati stayed in a while ago. It is cheap and easy, but the people here seem nice.

Tomorrow, the same Moto Driver will pick me up to go to the Temples of Angkor, at 5:00am!!! Sunrise at Ta Phrom is supposed to be so beautiful, and I want to be there before the tourist busses arrive.

Singapore: Living to Spend

2008-08-20T22:59:00.000-03:00

I know I havent blogged in a while, but I hardly ever sat down in Singapore...
So here it comes, all at once.

*** Day 1 ***

I started the day in the whirlpool. Could it be any better? Volker and I just sat there, enjoying the water and chatting while we were waiting for Ben to finish his stuff for his MBA.
When he was all set, we left to hold a real chinese tea ceremony in the tea shop "tee chapter" in the outer parts of Singapore's Chinatown. A chinese lady told us to get rid of our shoes and to sit down on cushions on the floor, next to a very low table. She showed us the tea menue and we ordered an Oolong Tea which had already been tasted by the Queen of England when she attended the opening of the shop (a felt 100 years ago). The lady came back with the tea set. Each person gets two little cups: one to smell the aroma, and one to drink from. There are many steps from pouring the tealeaves into the can, to the hot water to an eight step ceremony from when the tea lands in the smelling cup until one drinks the tea with three slow sips. The tea was yummy and we spent quite some hours there, photographic every step at least once :)

Later on we moved to Harbour Front for a nice Sushi Lunch. The Sushi was amaaazing, really, and so cheap compared to Spain...

In the evening we were all invited to a party, to kill leftover alcohol from other parties at a friends place. In Asia, things start early... The party started at 18:30h and ended at about 24h. That was wierd. For me and my spanish timing this was not really what I had expected ;) Yet, it was a lot of fun and I met a lot of nice people.

*** Day 2 ***

Today is sightseeing day. Kathi and I started and walked Singapore for hours. I can not even rename most of the things I have seen, but I do know that I enjoyed Little India very much and I liked the Merlion.
The amount of Malls (and their size) and the foodcourts are really crazy. This country really exitst to spend and to eat.
Towards the end of our tour we got hit by crazy rain, fortuneatly we were just in a tunnel to walk beneath a street. When it ended, we started to go in direction movie theatre, where we were about to meet the rest of the group o watch "Mad about English".

The movie was really cute. It is about the chinese people to learn English, in order to get ready for the Olympic Games in Beijing. Cute and really entertaining.

Afterwards we went to Arab Street and ate there. Arabic Food. Everyday, honestly, I eat food from a different country.

*** Day 3 ***

This day was really easy going. After spending the earlier morning in the pool, Ben, Kati and I went to have a quick Thai Lunch and then I went on to take a look at Orchard Road where tons of malls are aligned next to each other, but usually not selling the usual stuff.
At night we met at Raffles Place to go to the oldest of Singapore's Food Courts where originally they simply provided a cleaner place for Hawker Stalls. Now a days, these Hawker Stalls are real little huts inside the market place and tables are set all around.

We ordered Satay with peanut sauce and with cut onion and cucumber, which are supposed to help against the acrylamid which is in the burned meat.

Ben and I moved on to take a look at the Skyline and the Merlion at night and to take another beer. However, his favourite beer place had increased (doubled) its prices and was now extremely expensive so we sticked to a "Strawberry Vodka". I wonder if there was really any vodka in it... i don't think so...

*** Day 4 ***

Kathi and I got up a little earlier and went to China Town. Like most big cosmopolitan cities, Singapore has a big China Town where quite some people only speak Chinese and nothing else. That made it fun :) We had a nice fresh fruit juice at one of the stands and enjoyed the chinese kitsch.
I even bought some cute chop sticks.

For Lunch we went into a chinese vegetarian restaurant and as there were no english explanations we just ordered anything. Its vegetarian, so we werent afraid of chicken feet or heads... It was pretty good (and just in case you wonder: Yes, as I said, Singapore is all about shopping and eating).

In the later evening, Kati had to go to a class at university and i used the time to go to the night safari. A zoo that only opens at night, to see night active animals. It is sometimes quite scary to walk through it, as one is pretty much alone and hears nothing but the rainforrest sounds, as trees and plants are everywhere.

*** Day 5 ***

As the Night Safari can be bought in a cheaper combi ticket with the zoo, and some of the others hadnt been to see the zoo yet but wanted to, this is where we spend the whole day.
Seriously, the whole day. The zoo is huge and super nice. The animals are as close as possible and whereever they can they do not use fences to keep them away. The Orang Utans are even rangig freely where the visitors walk and one of them stopped right above Ben and stared down. Just last minute Ben said: Well, maybe I should move, just in case he pees." He was a few steps away only, when exactly that happened. The Orang Utan would have hit Ben exactly.
We also fed Kangaroohs and saw an Elephant show and exited the park when it was closing.

We were all hungry like crazy and decided to go to Chimes, a former monastary which now hosts several restaurants and a pub.
Ben and Volker were tired, Chris and Franzi had to work, so only Kati and me went. We ate a huge Burger and had some Cocktails.

We didnt go home too late, as in the morning I would have to get upat 3:30am to catch my plane to Siem Reap, Cambodia.

Arriving in Singapore

2008-08-17T01:21:00.000-03:00

The Muezzin woke me at 5am. I fell asleep again and then got up at ten to pack my things together and to catch a cab to the airport. The hostel has its own cabs and so it didn't take a long time to search for one and it even was 2 Euros cheaper than the normal one.
Because I received my 1000 baht deposit back, I still had 20 Euros to spend on the airport. But I figured this wouldn't be a problem, I mean, it is the airport. Airports are expensive...
The first 65 were for the taxi driver, cause I asked him to take the toll way. I arrived, checked in and still had two hours left to get my plane. I went to one of the bars and ordered a very Thai breakfast: Noodle Soup. Good thing I had been up for quite some hours by now... I also asked her for a Pepsi. In the end I paid 270 baht... So I moved on and bought a small coup of icecream. Another 40. And now? A coffee... Another 90. Time to board the plane. Ah well, the rest I can keep and glue into my picture album ;)

I arrived at my friends place at around eight. We took a short swim in the pool and then went to eat at a terrace in the city, where they had really good shrimps and lots of beer.
After we came home, my friend Kati and I sat on the terrace and talked until 5:30h in the morning, then I went to bed.

My first, and due to Spanair only, day in Bangkok

2008-08-17T01:16:00.000-03:00

I woke up to the sound of the Muezzin. I didnt realize before that there was a mosque right next to my window. He stops calling for his religious people in the neighbourhood about 5 minutes later, and before I can think about getting up I fall asleep again.
The next time that I wake up it is very hot in my room. I had turned off the airconditioning in the night because it was blowing to cold, but now I really needed it. I turned it on and waited till everthing cooled down. Then I got up and got dressed to conquer Bangkok, finally.

I left the hotel and turned right. I walked past many noodle soup stands and Ga-kitchens and the smell was marvelous. Seriously, most of the people reading this do know how much I love asian food with all its spices and vedgetables, and the noodle soups that come packaged with dried noodles and all you need to do is fill them up with hot water and wait, and you get a delicious (unhealthy?!?) meal.
However, it was breakfast time and neither wanted I spices and chicken for breakfast, nor was I hungry enough to eat a bowl of noodle soup.
I hit the main road about 5 minutes later and a nice Thai person explained me the way to the river. I followed his instructions but then took a left instead of a right in order to see a little market where they sold coloured balloons, stuffed animals and flowers. The street was a dead-end and ended at a university building. The reason for the little market was a huge graduation ceremony! All these students in their gowns and with medals and golden scarfs. I looked around a little bit, but felt in the wrong place, so I went back to where I came from only to go right this time. I hit the pier after only a couple of minutes and bought a boat ticket to Tha Thien for 22 baht. Which boat I need to take? Well, any boat that drives into this direction (the lady points to the left)... Okay. I wait for a couple of minutes between some more tourists and some Thai commuters. A big boat arrives, it is white and kind of empty. As it hits the pier, the lady who sold me the ticket comes out behind her little table and takes all other tourists on the boat. Not me though. I booked a normal boat, this is a tourist only boat. I wonder why some tourist would buy a tourist only boat ticket, if he could experience real life and while I try to finish this thought the first "normal" boat in the right direction lands on the pier.
The boat has one driver and one person in the bag who gives the directions and ties up the boat. He has a little whistle and depending on the sound he makes, the driver knows what to do. Drive forward, more left, faster, stop, backwards, faster, hold it. People exit and I enter the boat. I chose a spot on the other side where I can stand and easily take pictures. Out of a sudden, the whistle person jumps in front of me and opens the boat right in front of me. I can take a close look at the water and it would probably only need one big wave for me to fall. This time we land on a pier on the other side of the river. I make space for people to exit and enter the boat and get myself a new spot at the back of the boat, where I cannot disturb anyone.
To Tha Thien it is only four or five stops. The pier is filled with little shops and kitchens, and with many tourists. One can see that I am very close to one of the biggest sights in Bankok. The Wat Pho. the largest and oldest Wat in Bangkok.

I go to the ticket both and get myself a ticket for 50 baht. For Thai people, the entrance is free, as this is a place to worship buddha which should be open to the people who want to go there for prayer. The court is filled with little houses and little towers. They sparkle in the sun and look stunning, with all these little stones, these colours and this massive amount of gold.The biggest sight within the grounds of the Wat Pho is a big Buddha statue which lies in the middle of the temple, as if the temple was built around it later on. The reclining is a symbol for the Buddha's last step on its way to Nirvana and the statue is made of wood but has a layer of gold all over it.

I kept walking through the grounds of Wat Pho and then decided to move on to another temple which would close in three hours. It is a temple which lies in the same grounds as the Great Palace, the former residence of the King and the Queen of Thailand. The main "attraction" there is the "Emerald Buddha" which is actually not made of emeralds but carved out of Jade, however, when a monk saw that on the ordinary grey statue of a sitting buddha in his local temple, the stone was falling of its nose a green stone came up. He first tought it was one emerald, sitting in the normal stone mass the buddha seemed to be made of. Only later it was found that the whole buddha was made out of a green jade and that it was covered in grey stone to hide it from robbery.
The buddha is relatively small and sits on something like a high throne. To see it one has to leave the shoes outside and sit down in front of him. I was kneeling between 25 school children to look at buddha and only when I came out I saw the instructions on how to sit (they were placed at the exit... one must not understand...) Luckily, I did everything right, even the "You must not point your feet at buddha" The feet are to be the lowest, in both geographical and hierarchical sense, of our body.
Unfortunately, the Grand Palace itself was closed as there was a ceremony going on and the public had to stay outside. However, I had spend nearly two hours in this temple and so I was not too sad when I moved on. Direction Khao San Road.

I walked along the main road and its markets to reach Khao San Road. In the map it was not really visible that I would have to cross a big road with 2 lanes - stop - 4 lanes - stop - 4 lanes - stop - 2 lanes and no, there are no traffic lights. I stood for nearly five minutes between the first 2 lanes and the coming 4, when I decided that I just had to start walking at one moment...

I kept walking along bigger streets and all 10 to 15 meters I was stopped and asked "TukTuk? You TukTuk?" - "No thanks, I want to walk..." - "Ah walk, no no, TukTuk fast"... I only had a couple of hundreds of meters left to Khao San Road and when I told them they usually understood. :)

Then I hit it. Khao San Road. The Road. The road where all the tourists are, where Bangkok looks like you have expected it. As if they kept it alive for the tourists. Thousands of commercial posters hanging on the street, market stands on the pedestrian walk, Ga Kitchens blocking the street and TukTuks driving around everywhere. The tourists are mainly backpackers, in wide single-coloured cotton pants, tank-tops, flip-flops and messy hair. In pretty much every house there is either a hostel or an internet cafe and a restaurant or bar. Only at more or less the middle of the street is one deserted entrance. It is Nana's Place and Nana's Hostel. The place where mainly men spend their Bangkok holidays to see the beautiful Thais. Apparently, the attached guesthouse is mainly used by exactly those pretty Thai girls. It is weird to see how people enter it with their head held low. Nobody stops in front of it or looks around. I was curious to take a step into the terrace to take a look, but then again I didn't dare, and seeing two or three rather strange looking men walking in was enough.

I walked on until I hit the end of the street, to take a sharp left and to enter the street my hostel is on. Right at the corner I saw a huge Ga-Kitchen with 3 huge soup pots and about 9 different types of meat or fish to chose from. It looked very yummy and so I decided to give it a try. I didn't really trust the fish, and so I asked her for chicken and chose one. She told me to chose another one, and I wondered. I wanted this one... I had to chose two, she said, because it is two for 30 baht (which is less than 1 Euro). So I asked her for the other chicken. "Oooh, but this spicy." - "Great, I like spicy! I will take it" - "No no, really spicy, is hot." - "That's good, I like hot." So she brought me a plate with a mount of rice and the two types of chicken I chose. It was really spicy. Honestly ;)... But it was sooooooooo good, it was really really yummy! She looked at me, and I think she wondered a little, that I liked the spice so much as most tourists, she said, don't ever eat it.

I walked on and stopped at an internet cafe to see if my bag was found. Apparently not. Great. I went to my room to take a little nap. When I had just fallen asleep, the phone rank. "Hello? Helloooooooo? Uhm, hello?" Nothing. I tried to call the reception back, but I couldn't hear a ring. I think my phone was broken. So I walked down to the reception and searched for someone who knew why I was called. The airline had called and they had found my bag. Apparently they wanted to bring it later tonight. Now I really took my nap and decided to wait for my bag. It must have been something like 18h when I started and at 22:30h, finally, the phone rang. "Hello? Hellooooo?", oh right, it was broken. I went downstairs and there it was. My bag. Finally. I took it upstairs and never have I been happier to see it. Finally a shower with REAL shampoo and not cheap hostel soap. Lotion for the little sunburn I have. Fresh cloth. And a comb to make my hair look normal... Now I felt ready to go outside again.

I met two Germans who had just arrived and together we walked to a close Ga Kitchen and bought a Phad Thai with Chicken. We sat down on the street, ate, watched people walking by and talked about holidays. It was really nice. We thought about moving on to a bar later, but it was already pretty late and I must admit that the day had been quite exhausting.
I went to my room, read my book and fell asleep.

Yes its been very calm nights in Bangkok, but you know what? That was exactly what I needed after these crazy days in Bilbao and the long trip to Asia.

One Night in Bangkok...

2008-08-17T00:26:00.000-03:00

***** In Bangkok, the blogspot site is blocked, so I will upload this later! *****

I entered my flight to Bangkok and sat down in a shiny pink seat of Thai Airways. All the seats around me were in gleaming purple, yellow or pink and they all had a purple pillow on them. I listened to Thai Pop and looked around the bangkok airport while taxiing. Well, I must admit, before we had reached the starting lane I had switched to Jason Mraz. Thai Pop is just not my music, it sounds like Mickey Mouse on Speed, played backwards.
While I enjoyed the start I really felt like a jet-setter person, realizing that this was the 13th plane start I enjoyed in the last four months...
Once up in the air, the apparently most beautiful stewardesses came out and yes, they were all very pretty, but moreover, they were also dressed in either yellow, or purple, or pink, while they served us a thai-chilli on purple trays, with pink dishes and yes, yellow sachets with salt and pepper. Thai Airways really understands the concept of "corporate colour... :)

We landed in Bangkok and were picked up by bus. It was the first time I actually had real "fresh" air since I left Frankfurt and it was still very warm, extremely humid and the smell reminded me dust or potatoes cooked with the peel. Yes, seriously, like potatoes. When you cook them with peel and dirt and leave the lid of the pot open, it smells like Bangkok Airport.
Imigration was absolutely no problem and within a few minutes I stood at baggage claim, belt 12, to await my luggage. Afterall, they said in Singapore that they would have it. I chose a point from where I had an easy look onto the beginning of the belt and when I saw a black backpack with grey sidepockets, a smile came onto my face: My bag. It made it. I went a few meters upfront to catch it and realized that it wasn't mine. I waited longer and longer, until a Thai Airways Lady came and told me that it was the last bag and that I should go to the Thai Airways Office to get more information.

I went and told them the bag got lost, so they placed it in worldtracer, the commonly used system from all airlines. I catched a metertaxi and told the lady where I wanted to go, and where I hopefully still had a room reserved. She started the SUV and I realized, that they drive on the left here, I had forgotten about that completely. Even though she drove a huge SUV with blue lights at the feet and an extra big and blue clock-like thing to measure her rounds per minute next to her radio, she did not drive faster than 80km... ever. One moment she even stopped to get gas in a little corner and asked me if I wanted to take the toll-road or the normal road. It wasnt expensive, however, I had the feeling she wouldnt drive faster and there werent many people on the road we had taken so far either. So I told he to take the normal road, so I could see more of the city.
The streets were still packed with people and little Ga-Kitchens that even blocked the road. A super market was still open as well ( it is called "eleven" but its logo is a "7"). It was just after midnight. In front of us I saw two TukTuks crammed with what looked and sounded like four drunk american students. The TukTuks drove right next to each other and the students from one TukTuk tried to clap the other peoples shoulders when they took a sharp right and nearly fell out of their mini-taxi.
When I arrived at the hostel, the room was still reserved for me. I went upstairs, put a little water in my face and then went outside to check out the region. I met some Spanish and some German people, but I was very tired. I decided to just go quickly into an internet cafe to tell my mom that I am okay and to check if my luggage has been seen anywhere. The luggage has not been seen, but I am convinced it will arrive with the morning machine. For sure.

I just quickly get a water in the supermarket around my corner and then go to bed.

Getting to Bangkok... or not.

2008-08-13T07:59:00.000-03:00

Everything started off so nicely... I was packed in time, actually a little bit early, I left to the airport and got there in time as well and walked my way to the Lufthansa Check-In, as I had booked a Lufthansa Flight.

Unfortunately, I had to walk back and to Terminal 2, as the flight was carried out by Spanair. Well, I thought, I have been on Lufthansa flights that were carried out by other companies like EuroWings and still I checked in with Lufthansa... kinda wierd.

Boarding time came, the plane was there and a young lady showed up. "Mhh, MMhhhh.... Ladies and Gentlemen, the flight JK 1234 to Frankfurt will be delayed due to technical problems. We cannot tell you more, except that we will begin boarding at 19:20h" 19:20... 19:20!?!?!?!? BOARDING!?!?!?!? That means we board an hour later then we are supposed to leave...

I want to ask the lady about my connecting flight to Bangkok, but unfotunately she has left. And on the screens there is no information and boarding is still told to be now.

So I make my way to the SpanAir information desk to ask about my flight. He doesn't know anything, does not want to help me and tells me Lufthansa will book me on another flight the next day. Well, thank you, that means I loose one full day of my holidays at Frankfurt Airport and my hostel reservation anyways.

On my way back there is another lady at the Gate desk, so I want to go and ask her for other connections or possibilities. She is talking to a spanish lady and explaining her that she can get a free snack as excuse. When I want to talk to her, she is already rushing off. I stop her, but all she tells me is that this is Lufthansa's responsiblity, but that I might want to go grab a snack, as we are not boarding until 19:40h... another 20 minutes later.

I go and get my snack, and I call my mom to have someone to tell my mysery to.
As my mom always does everything to help, she called the Lufthansa Information Center to check if I could get booked onto another flight from Madrid. When she calls back, I have a big bite of not-so-yummy tortilla sandwhich in my mouth and nearly choke on it because she tells me if I would run, they could book me onto Swiss Airlines to Zurich in half an hour and the form Zurich to Bangkok, direct flight, nearly same timing...

I am supposed to go to the Lufthansa Transfer Center, but unfortunately there is none in this particular terminal and the terminals in Madrid are so clsoed off that I would have to leave it completely and come back for a new check-in, new baggage check etc. So one sends me to Spanair Information Center. There the guy tells me (after I gave him details about time, flight numbers, airline and destinations) that this flight does not exist, cause it is not in his computer. I tell him again, that Lufthansa offered me to book me onto this flight and that as they cooperate this would now be his responsibility. And I told him that the flight must exist, otherwise they wouldnt have told me flightnumbers etc., but that maybe its another gate. He looks again on his screen and tells me that this wouldnt work with the luggage. I say that would be fine, they can deliver it in Bangkok as the luggage most probably wont make my other flight either (in the unlikely event that I can run and catch it within minutes). He tells me it doesnt work and that the only chance was a direct Iberia flight but that would be too late now... NOW!?!?!? I was here an hour ago asking him for other possibilities and he said there is none.... IDIOT!

As I finally have no other choice, I board my Spanair Plane at 19:40h (with still no information about any delay on website or screens), being told that we should arrive in Frankfurt at 22:10, which would give me 10 minutes to board the plane (boarding begins at 22h and the flight is supposed to start at 22;45h). I must admit, I got a little anxious and thought I had chances until at 20:10h the pilot talks and says that we are delayed because the technical crew didnt arrive and that now we need to wait another 40 minutes at the gate, as we didnt get the slot to start. Congratulations, I think to myself, for the first time in your life you will miss a plane... We started 25 minutes later.

I arrived in Frankfurt in the Lufthansa Terminal, by Bus, at 22:30. When I entered the arrival hall, the gate signs next to my flight to Bankok was still blinking green and saying "boarding" (not even last call...). So I started sprinting and ran what felt like a kilometer together with 15 spaniards who wanted to catch the same flight. However, the pass control was closed down and even though the lady called the ground staff at the gate if we could still get in we were told we were too late. We saw the plane leaving... without us.

As we couldnt get back into the arrival hall and to its Lufthansa Transfer Center we had to go all the way to the other side of the airport to find two over-tired staff members who would check for new flights for us. Me being the only one who speaks German and the one who basically lead the whole crowd from one end of the airport to the other, could go first and thereby managed to ("maybe") get a seat on the Quantas Flight to Singapore. From there I could go to to Bangkok, with only 12 hours delay, meaning one day of my holidays gone... (Well, the otherones could only start with the first flight in the morning, meaning 18h later... direct but even more time gone. Yet I asked the lady at the desk if there is some kind of reimbursment, as I had booked a Lufthansa Ticket and now missed one day of holidays, most probably my hostel reservation and about my luggage we wouldnt even have to talk... She looked at me with an arrogant smile saying that the booking onto another flight was reimbursment enough, afterall Lufthansa had nothing to do with the delay and therefore a flight change for free would really be a big offer. Well, I had booked a Lufthansa ticket, and I had another flight possibility which I didnt get because there was no Lufthansa person around in Madrid and afterall, they said theyd cooperate with Spanair and they should then go themselves to Spanair and get their money back but not send me there after I have been sent back and forth twice. Well, there was nothing she could, uhm let me rephrase that, nothing she would do, and when I said that at least a little upgrade would have been nice after this, she stared at me blankly and handed me my stuff. "Quantas is boarding already and I do not know if you can make it. You have to take the skytrain to another terminal and go through the police control." - "And if I don't make it?" - "Well, then you better get back here fast so you can get another flight before the Transit Center closes..." Oooookaaaaay. Let's run. So I sprinted again from one and to the other, hopped on the skytrain and got laughed at by police people at the passport check and the luggage check cause I was sweaty, angry and pretty late.

I received a boarding pass and the lady at the counter, after asking me why I was rebooked, gave me a nice aisle seat next to a young girl travelling to Australia and the middle seat being empty. Quickly, I called my mom to tell her to write an email to my hostel to tell them I will be arriving in the middle of the night / morning but that they should keep the room for me. Being the last person to board the plane, I calmed down once I sat in my chair and saw the little screen in the front seat with Video On Demand. The plane started and we were served pretty good food (ever been served Lamb on a plane? In the economy class?!?) and I started a movie. I gotta admit, the whole running around, not knowing what happens or where to go to, got me quite tired and once the movie finished I had no problems to fall asleep for 5 hours.
The morning came and there were only 3 hours left till we would reach Singapore. I had a coffee and watched Kung-Fu Panda, and then we were there. It is early evening and my next flight goes in three hours... till then, I gotta figure out where to get a boarding pass, where my luggage went and if my hostel reservation is still being held.

***

Now I am standing in the gate already, waiting to board. After waiting half an hour for my boarding pass I went to a Free Internet Stand and checked my emails. Unfortunately I have no news from the hostel. I hope this works out. The nice lady at the counter also found my luggage for me... well, more or less. According to Lufthansa it made it onto the Quantas flight with me, however, in the airport it hasn't been scanned yet. I hope I can pick it up in Bangkok, and if not: Quantas ( I really like them, very helpful) gave me a business class overnight kit with socks and toothbrush, toothpaste and some refreshing creme so I don't have to worry to much.
Let's see...

without title

2008-07-18T16:34:00.000-03:00

She sings in the morning,
dreaming of you.
All you can hear is a faint humming:
The killer in me is the killer in you...

Do you know how she feels?
How she misses you?
Sleepless,
she stares into each night.
Stars shimmering above her,
seem to laugh at her,
as she reminisces how she had lost you,
and finally asks herself:
Have you ever been her’s?
Hours go by,
night is fading,
all she can think of is your face,
your dark brown eyes and hair,
how you looked at her,
smiling,
telling her your dreams and fears.
Where are you now?
Why have you left her in thesee doubts?
Daylight breaks through her window,
another night is gone.

You can hear her singing at the morning,
dreaming of you.
All you hear is a faint humming:
The killer in me is the killer in you...