Getting adjusted

The smell of pao de queijo is unbearable at the moment. I've been eating that and japanese peanuts for two days now because all they eat here in Brazil, or at least the places I can afford, is breaded meat, chicken and beef. My classes are great because they are very laid-back and it seems like my facebook is about to explode with all the notifications of new friends and group discussions about upcoming trips. So far, the bus is okay, I don't hate it yet, it is the one place where I can listen to music and relax while sitting next to the window looking at the chaotic street in Brazil.

Every time I speak with a local in portuguese, I astound myself by how they could even comprehend the words and semi-phrases that were coming out of my mouth, but they are very polite and they just tease me and ask me where I am from. Which is better than being completely ignored and frowned upon I guess. For example, today Brendolyn and I went to the supermarket, Angelinos, the equivalent to Walmart and with all the variety and quantity of things that are sold there, not a single aisle had chile, salsa, good candy or big bottles of water. We realized at that moment that we are extremely american and that we were attracting a little bit to much attention by laughing hysterically in the middle of the aisle because we saw that they sold the underwear next to the papayas and maracujas. They did not appreciate our good sense of humor or as they may think, our childish humor. On our way back my umbrella turned over, a bus splashed water on all our clothes and our shopping ended up consisting of gummy worms and hamburger gummies, very worth the 10 minute walk. And once we got home...more pao de queijo!! (Or at least something that looks like it.)

My host family.

After a long day learning about Brazilian culture and an overload of information about what I will be doing in my four months here, Brendolyne, my roommate, and I were picked-up at our hotel by our new parents. The mother, Marize, was very excited repeating, " As minhas filhas, as minhas filhas," as she hugged us and then our father, Mauricio, stood there smiling as he hugged his wife. I call them mother and father because they asked us to call them by those names. 10 minutes later we arrive in the house and are received by a weiner dog and Sara, a very cute dog and his type is unknown. Communication was strange, both our parents speak little english and very fast portuguese, I speak what I call portunol (mixture between spanish and portuguese) and you could say that my roommate feels dizzy whenever she is spoken or exposed to any portuguese. We could barely ask the maid for an umbrella that would serve as protection when walking through a thunderstorm on our way to the bus stop that is a block away ( the thunderstorm has been going on for 15 hours now.) But it's only our fourth day here and we are hoping for the best when it comes to our ability to learn portuguese. Other than that, our family is perfect, 3 dogs, 1 fat old black cat, mom and dad, and two sons, a thirty and a twenty-six year old. So friendly and nice that we almost couldn't believe it and it made us freak out at night, making up stories that this is what happens in horror movies; a perfect family receiving foreign students in a huge house, feeding them until they explode with delicious food and providing the most comfortable accommodations just to murder the students in the end. I almost killed my roommate when she put those thoughts in my head, we laughed about it afterwards. These people are harmless, don't you worry mom and dad, we are just in shock of how nice these people are.

Florianopolis