Voce Brasil

"So all you need is my passport with your fees?" I asked the consular agent in Chicago? "Yes, that is correct sir. Anything else? "Yes, if you were going back to Brasil, what would you buy as a souvenir?"
"Well. If it were me I would buy gold jewelry and leather goods. Buy shoes. We make great leather shoes in Brasil. That's what I would do. "

I was enthralled. I had worked as an US History teacher with little success. The students were completely disinterested in learning about anything except how to buy the next pair of Nike shoes or Pelle Pelle outfits in between gun fights and court visits.

I wanted to see Amanda, my ex-Brasilian namorada, for love or friendship. After a year of educational insanity, I had decided to begin a new life in Brasil if necessary. So after spending about $600 for a passport and ticket, I boarded the first flight I could out of Motown to Sao Paulo, Brasil. It was a journey unlike any other. As I arrived into Houston, TX all the familiar sounds of English vanished into the melodious harmony of Portugues; a tongue which is the definition of passion. Spanish on the other hand I define as the language of love; however, Portugues, for me is the most passionate language my ears have heard. But perhaps it was due to having two Brasilian girlfriends as amazing teachers. As I collected my luggage, my ex- Amanda greeted me with open arms and I was whisked away in a duel fuel VW to the urban jungle of Sao Paulo. Freeways that crossed in multiple directions with underground intersections, buses jammed like sardine tins, and everyone having somewhere to go but home. I instantly fell in love with the insanity. Being raised in Detroit, insanity had become the reality; but not anymore. Sao Paulo and Brasil was just like the US, except turned on its back and covered in graffiti.