Thursday February 25th 2010

There are very few people that I am comfortable with if they are driving. Steve is not such a person, so early on in our marriage we came to an understanding that for the majority of the time I would drive and he would sleep. This is especially true on longer journeys and it suits us both very well. On last summer’s trip back from Maine, I drove the first eight and a half hours – Steve drove the last one and a half. You get the picture.

Fortunately, Marcelo is one of that very rare breed that I feel totally comfortable with. He loves the car, and I mean really loves the car. Whereas most Brazilians are passionate about football, Marcelo’s passion is cars. Every time he pushes a button on the dash board he involuntarily wipes imaginary specks of dust away. He must be one of those very fortunate people that truly love their work. You can see that every time he gets behind the wheel he is thinking to himself that he is about to set out on yet another journey in his beloved car.

I have to set the scene for what I am about to tell you. We have a small Mercedes that we inherited from the previous General Manager. It is totally impractical in Sao Paulo where the roads have potholes every few yards and just in case the potholes weren’t enough, then there are speed humps everywhere else. Now, the Mercedes is armour plated and bullet proof. It is a mini tank on four wheels and the combination of Marcelo and the Mercedes makes me feel totally secure regardless of the practicality. The doors literally weigh a ton so it is necessary as well as more secure for me to wait for Marcelo to jump out and open them for me. But the extra weight means that going over speed humps at anything more than two miles an hour is out of the question as it would soon destroy the underside of the car. So we drive very carefully and purposefully, unless of course there is reason not to.


At every intersection and traffic lights where there is reason to slow down and stop you will find street vendors. They sell literally everything. Yesterday there were two guys selling car chargers for mobile phones and I remember thinking to myself, “who would buy a car charger for a mobile phone from a street vendor”. Clearly there are such people out there otherwise the vendors wouldn’t bother. Sometimes the vendors are just giving free newspapers away, othertimes it is water and snacks. Whenever they approach Marcelo he gives them a casual wave with the back of his hand as if to say, “I’m not interested, don’t bother me.” They walk on to the next car and try their luck somewhere else.

Yesterday, just after Marcelo had dropped me off for an appointment, he was on his way back to the office to pick up Steve when he had to stop at a set of lights. A guy came up to the car and simultaneously, a second guy came up to the passenger window. Only this time they didn’t have anything to sell, there were brandishing guns and telling him to wind down the window.

I can’t begin to imagine what was going through his mind and I am eternally grateful that I wasn’t in the car. But, part of me would love to have been a “fly on the wall” to see him wave the back of his hand at them as if to say “no thank you, I’m not buying”. He obviously had such supreme confidence that even if they had fired (and thank goodness they didn’t) then the bullet proof glass would have protected him, even at point blank range. From what I can gather, the lights turned green, Marcelo floored the accelerator and left them standing.

You have to love Marcelo.