There is a saying “you chose your friends but not your family” – or words to that effect. Living so far away from my family, I am acutely aware of the need for friends and so I suspect are many other people in the same situation as us. Even for the children, now at college and boarding school. They know that their family will always be there for them, but their friends make their daily lives so much the better.
During my life, I feel very blessed to have found great friends in many different locations around the world. They know who they are and l love every one of them. Sometimes you don’t hear or speak to them for months at a time, but you know that when you do, it will be as if you had spoken only yesterday. I love Face Book, because all of a sudden, I am reconnecting with long lost friends that have drifted in and out of my life at various times. Friends of friends are now surfacing – old school friends and in a very modern way, life is become more enriched because of it. You remember why you were friends in the first place and can almost pick up where you left of years ago.
Sure there is the curiosity of wondering “ how much weight has been gained, wrinkles developed or how grey is the hair?” But I genuinely love hearing how everyone is doing, how the kids are doing and what direction their life is taking. It beats the “round robin” Christmas letters any time.
So this blog is dedicated to everyone that I call a friend.
In Sao Paulo, I have been lucky enough to find several really good friends. They are the friends that I will keep in contact with for the rest of my life. They know who they are. I met two of them on the same day, about two weeks after I arrived. The other two I met a couple of weeks later.
Have you ever had a moment in your life when you look at someone and think “I could chum up with you?” It is an amazing feeling and if you are if by chance you meet a new friend at the time when they are looking for friendship as well, then there is a double blessing.
So five of us came together. We are all pretty much in the same boat. Children have fled the nest, husbands are busy with stressful careers and family is at least 5,000 miles away. We need each other, we laugh, cry and support each other and when one of us is having a tough time we are there for each other. My waistline is struggling to cope with all the lunches, coffees and dinners we have together. If a husband is travelling we arrange girls’ nights, go to the movies, walk dogs and rarely a day goes by without some sort of communication between some or all of us. Even when we are away, email and Face Book keep us going.
This morning the last of our group arrived back from the States after spending Christmas with family. She left her elderly parents, sister and only son to travel by herself for about 24 hours to get back to her husband in Sao Paulo. We knew it was going to be a tough trip for her, so one of the group had the mad cap idea that we go to the airport, banners held aloft to welcome her back. We had to enlist the help of her husband who was sworn to secrecy. We seriously would have killed him if he had given the game away.
Yesterday was spent plotting the final details, buying school supplies and sitting down like third graders with glitter glue, coloured paper and magic markers making a “Welcome Home” banner.
You have to remember that traffic in Sao Paulo is just awful and a trip to the airport is to be avoided like the plague. No body does the trip unless the absolutely have to. It is about 20 miles outside the city (not that distance is really relevant) and it can take anything from 26 minutes (the record held by Charles and Marcelo during a Brazil World cup football game when the roads were not surprisingly empty) to easily over four hours.
So we left this morning with plenty of time. Two cars in convoy. One for the girls and one for the luggage on the return trip. Of course we were early, but coffee and laughs kept us going. We stood by the barrier, signs at the ready. Quite what everyone thought of us I have no idea. Marcelo now has concrete proof that his boss’s wife is seriously mad.
And so she came out, luggage piled high and clearly very weary after such a long trip. But who wouldn’t laugh at two middle aged women brandishing banners of a very fetching pink and blue, covered in glitter glue with your name on. We laughed until we nearly cried. We had the effect that we had hoped for and she loved it.
We piled into the car and didn’t stop laughing until we got back into Sao Paulo where we met the other two members of the gang of five and whisked her off to lunch. Who needs a shower and sleep when you can substitute it for laughs?
Girls I love you all!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Security nightmare - part 2. Wednesday January 18, 2011
There is a post script to yesterday’s blog.
Today I happened to be back in the neighbourhood, where the robbery took place. Marcelo decided that he was going to take me on a guided tour of the area where everything had occurred. Rather macabre I thought, but he obviously wanted to show me.
The street is very built up, houses, apartment blocks and a school. Next to the apartment building is something called a “buffet infantile”. This is something that I have never come across anywhere else in the world. It is a party room for children that you hire for your child’s birthday. They provide food - a buffet what else? - and a space in which to play. Magicians and entertainers can be brought in or maybe even provided. They are in short, a perfect answer to the inevitable dilemma of children’s parties. All the mess is contained, kids have a great time and all the mum has to do is pay – sounds perfect to me.
But imagine the scene yesterday. Helicopters, police and a “heavy” squad, chasing thieves in the vicinity of a school and party place. The school, thankfully is closed for the holidays – it being summer here. My guess is that there were teachers around because the buildings were open but thankfully no children. I have no idea whether the buffet was in use - I am guessing no because it was only 10.30 in the morning. From Marcelo’s account the thieves split up, some taking the route through the school and others through the buffet.
Two were captured almost immediately. The others escaped, although for how long who knows. The fact that the robbers, undoubtedly armed, raced into the school elevates the seriousness of the crime in my book. My guess is that with two captured, the police will very soon learn the identity of the others and hopefully take them off the streets.
The outcome could have been so much worse if the school and the buffet had been full of children. It really doesn’t bear thinking about.
Today I happened to be back in the neighbourhood, where the robbery took place. Marcelo decided that he was going to take me on a guided tour of the area where everything had occurred. Rather macabre I thought, but he obviously wanted to show me.
The street is very built up, houses, apartment blocks and a school. Next to the apartment building is something called a “buffet infantile”. This is something that I have never come across anywhere else in the world. It is a party room for children that you hire for your child’s birthday. They provide food - a buffet what else? - and a space in which to play. Magicians and entertainers can be brought in or maybe even provided. They are in short, a perfect answer to the inevitable dilemma of children’s parties. All the mess is contained, kids have a great time and all the mum has to do is pay – sounds perfect to me.
But imagine the scene yesterday. Helicopters, police and a “heavy” squad, chasing thieves in the vicinity of a school and party place. The school, thankfully is closed for the holidays – it being summer here. My guess is that there were teachers around because the buildings were open but thankfully no children. I have no idea whether the buffet was in use - I am guessing no because it was only 10.30 in the morning. From Marcelo’s account the thieves split up, some taking the route through the school and others through the buffet.
Two were captured almost immediately. The others escaped, although for how long who knows. The fact that the robbers, undoubtedly armed, raced into the school elevates the seriousness of the crime in my book. My guess is that with two captured, the police will very soon learn the identity of the others and hopefully take them off the streets.
The outcome could have been so much worse if the school and the buffet had been full of children. It really doesn’t bear thinking about.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Security nightmare. Tuesday January 17, 2011
There was an incident near us today that brought home to me just what a nightmare the security is in Sao Paulo. I was driving to a friend’s house when we saw a helicopter hovering, very close and very low. It just hovered there for what seemed like ages. Next, a police car crossed in front of us, clearly in a hurry to get to the road below the helicopter.
Marcelo was very interested and turned on the radio to one of the local channels. As we proceeded further down the street, I looked towards the area that was clearly causing so much interest to see the end of it completely awash with flashing lights, sirens and police.
We turned along another street only to see the “heavy” police coming along beside us. You can tell them a mile off – a big SUV car, different uniforms and if we could have seen them, heavy weight armour. Clearly, something serious was happening.
All sorts of things were going through my mind. We have recently had the incidents in Rio, where the police have taken out several of the drug barons that control the Favelas. This clean up, over several days, had involved huge numbers of police, special squads and helicopters. Several people were killed but it had the desired effect of getting the drug lords out of the area – until, that is, a new wave come along to replace them.
As I reached my friend’s apartment on the 18th floor, we had a great view of what was going on. So did everyone else as the balconies were full of people. One guy had his video camera out – go figure.
We later found out that what had happened was that a gang of thieves had entered an apartment building with the intent to rob as many apartments as possible. This is actually quite common. They break in, hold people hostage and then go apartment to apartment, breaking-in and stealing whatever they can. They can tell by the location and quality of the building how rich the pickings will be.
Even though the apartments have “security”, it is often an inside job, with the security guards giving the thieves the knowledge they need.
We live in what they call a closed condominium. There are nine houses surrounded by a high concrete fence. On top of that fence is an electric fence. To get into the basement garage, you have to be let in by the security guards who have bullet-proofed guard house at the front facing the road. If you are on foot, they open a gate into a secure area and once in, the gate behind closes before the gate in front opens.
We have heard all sorts of stories about break-ins recently. In our neighbourhood, the latest incident was that thieves targeted a particular car, got into the back and held the driver at gunpoint so as to be let into the garage area of the condominium. Once in the garage, they were then able to go house to house, breaking in and stealing whatever they could carry.
So I never take security for granted and know that there are people whose job it is to keep us safe. When we moved into this house we had a safe room created with a steel door. The idea is that if anything happens, we have time to get to the safe room and sound the alarm. We have cameras literally everywhere, covering every entrance and the outside spaces, (no sunbathing topless in our back garden). However, given all this we are about to have bars on some of the windows and bullet proof glass in the front and have just had the front door strengthened with five steel bolts.
It all may sound completely over the top, but I have to say that it makes me feel a lot safer at night and especially when I am here on my own.
Marcelo of course has made it his business to find out everything about everyone in the condominium. Not only the people living there, but also the maids and drivers that work for the other families. We have a team of guards at the front gate who together with the maintenance men look after the nine houses. Even when we hired our maid, Marcelo went to see where she lived to make sure that she was living in a respectable area. It is not unknown for maids that come from the Favelas to be “persuaded” to give information about their employers.
So today’s event turned out to be an apartment burglary.
From Marcelo I gather the following:-
The good news is that the police were on the scene very rapidly and not many apartments were burgled.
The bad news is that the thieves got away.
I guess in tomorrow’s papers we will find out more details, if we can get the translation right.
Marcelo was very interested and turned on the radio to one of the local channels. As we proceeded further down the street, I looked towards the area that was clearly causing so much interest to see the end of it completely awash with flashing lights, sirens and police.
We turned along another street only to see the “heavy” police coming along beside us. You can tell them a mile off – a big SUV car, different uniforms and if we could have seen them, heavy weight armour. Clearly, something serious was happening.
All sorts of things were going through my mind. We have recently had the incidents in Rio, where the police have taken out several of the drug barons that control the Favelas. This clean up, over several days, had involved huge numbers of police, special squads and helicopters. Several people were killed but it had the desired effect of getting the drug lords out of the area – until, that is, a new wave come along to replace them.
As I reached my friend’s apartment on the 18th floor, we had a great view of what was going on. So did everyone else as the balconies were full of people. One guy had his video camera out – go figure.
We later found out that what had happened was that a gang of thieves had entered an apartment building with the intent to rob as many apartments as possible. This is actually quite common. They break in, hold people hostage and then go apartment to apartment, breaking-in and stealing whatever they can. They can tell by the location and quality of the building how rich the pickings will be.
Even though the apartments have “security”, it is often an inside job, with the security guards giving the thieves the knowledge they need.
We live in what they call a closed condominium. There are nine houses surrounded by a high concrete fence. On top of that fence is an electric fence. To get into the basement garage, you have to be let in by the security guards who have bullet-proofed guard house at the front facing the road. If you are on foot, they open a gate into a secure area and once in, the gate behind closes before the gate in front opens.
We have heard all sorts of stories about break-ins recently. In our neighbourhood, the latest incident was that thieves targeted a particular car, got into the back and held the driver at gunpoint so as to be let into the garage area of the condominium. Once in the garage, they were then able to go house to house, breaking in and stealing whatever they could carry.
So I never take security for granted and know that there are people whose job it is to keep us safe. When we moved into this house we had a safe room created with a steel door. The idea is that if anything happens, we have time to get to the safe room and sound the alarm. We have cameras literally everywhere, covering every entrance and the outside spaces, (no sunbathing topless in our back garden). However, given all this we are about to have bars on some of the windows and bullet proof glass in the front and have just had the front door strengthened with five steel bolts.
It all may sound completely over the top, but I have to say that it makes me feel a lot safer at night and especially when I am here on my own.
Marcelo of course has made it his business to find out everything about everyone in the condominium. Not only the people living there, but also the maids and drivers that work for the other families. We have a team of guards at the front gate who together with the maintenance men look after the nine houses. Even when we hired our maid, Marcelo went to see where she lived to make sure that she was living in a respectable area. It is not unknown for maids that come from the Favelas to be “persuaded” to give information about their employers.
So today’s event turned out to be an apartment burglary.
From Marcelo I gather the following:-
The good news is that the police were on the scene very rapidly and not many apartments were burgled.
The bad news is that the thieves got away.
I guess in tomorrow’s papers we will find out more details, if we can get the translation right.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Amy Winehouse. January 16, 2011
There is not much in the way of music that Steve and I actually agree on. He is into some bizarre form of alternative music that blends punk, heavy rock, “normal” alterative and maybe a bit of ska (?), whilst I am into music where I can hear the lyrics and that doesn’t blast my ears every time it comes on.
But yesterday we went to the “Summer Soul Festival” here in Sao Paulo, six performers with the headline act of Any Winehouse. She is one of the few singers that we both actually sit and listen to. Pity Marcelo when we have the I-pod on in the car. His tastes run to rock, and judging by the sideburns and pointy shoes, Elvis in particular.
Tickets for the concert came in two tiers. R$ 100 (about US$ 60) for regular admission and R$ 500 (about US$300) for “premium”. We chose the latter. For my R$ 500 plus R$ 100 booking fee I was lead to believe that I would have a seat and be under cover. If you have heard about the flooding in Brazil lately, you will know that we are in the middle of the rainy season, so thinking that we were going to be under cover was actually quite important. Well, wrong on both counts. No seating and no cover.
The tickets said that the gates opened at 3 pm and the concert would start at 6 pm. Basically “first come first served”. If you could be bothered to get there at 3 o’clock then
a. You could park
b. You could get right at the front
c. You would be on your feet for a total of about 9 ½ hours
We were advised not to get there before 8 pm which was just about what we achieved. We missed two/three of the warm up acts (not sure if two performers came on together) but arrived just in time to see the first of the main acts – Mayer Hawthorne. A Buddy Holly look alike and actually quite good.
Janelle Monae was the second big act. She gave a weird stage show that left us both wondering “what the heck was that all about”? But at least she can sing. It looked like scenes from “Eyes wide shut” heavy black capes and masks which must have been extraordinarily hot under the lights and the Sao Paulo heat. There was much writhing on the floor which we couldn’t see because we were standing right in front below the stage, and at the end she drenched herself in water – presumably to cool down which seems a pretty stupid thing to do given the amount of electrical current that must have been surging all over the stage.
So by around 10.15 she was done and the stage was set for the final act – Amy Winehouse. It took about 30 minutes to get the set ready, and a further hour to get Amy ready……whatever that involves.
By this time the audience were getting pretty restless. Although you couldn’t take alcohol into the area, it was pretty much available once inside. Between the audience and the stage there was a barrier patrolled by security guards. There were a couple of scuffles that broke out and within a very short space of time they were over the barriers and in with the crowd. The crowd then chanted and pointed to the guilty party or parties and summary justice was swift with the accused removed from the scene. We didn’t know whether they were removed altogether or just out of that space, but they were gone.
Being an open area, everyone was smoking and personal space was at a premium. Having stood so long in one place though, everyone was aware of the people around them, and when people tried to crash the space to make it closer to the front, the long standers basically closed ranks and stopped them getting through. Summary justice in action again. We had stood for hours to be twenty feet from the stage and no-one was going to get in front of us.
Amy Winehouse was actually pretty good. She is tiny and was dwarfed by the band around her. Her speaking voice is pure London, but her singing voice is quite amazing. Not sure if she was really drunk or just acting the part but there was a certain amount of swaying which looked completely uncoordinated. She had a mug of something that she was drinking from – not sure if it was vodka or chamomile tea or maybe both. She sang all her big hits and a lot besides and the audience were pretty receptive, even when she forgot the lyrics, which she did on several occasions.
After the concert began the nightmare of getting out. Thank god for Marcelo. Fifteen minutes after we left, we saw him and sank into the back of the car, feet aching and very grateful not to be stood upright. Five hours of standing at my age is too much, I am the first to admit.
That said, am I glad I went? Absolutely.
Would I go again to a concert like that? Absolutely not.
But yesterday we went to the “Summer Soul Festival” here in Sao Paulo, six performers with the headline act of Any Winehouse. She is one of the few singers that we both actually sit and listen to. Pity Marcelo when we have the I-pod on in the car. His tastes run to rock, and judging by the sideburns and pointy shoes, Elvis in particular.
Tickets for the concert came in two tiers. R$ 100 (about US$ 60) for regular admission and R$ 500 (about US$300) for “premium”. We chose the latter. For my R$ 500 plus R$ 100 booking fee I was lead to believe that I would have a seat and be under cover. If you have heard about the flooding in Brazil lately, you will know that we are in the middle of the rainy season, so thinking that we were going to be under cover was actually quite important. Well, wrong on both counts. No seating and no cover.
The tickets said that the gates opened at 3 pm and the concert would start at 6 pm. Basically “first come first served”. If you could be bothered to get there at 3 o’clock then
a. You could park
b. You could get right at the front
c. You would be on your feet for a total of about 9 ½ hours
We were advised not to get there before 8 pm which was just about what we achieved. We missed two/three of the warm up acts (not sure if two performers came on together) but arrived just in time to see the first of the main acts – Mayer Hawthorne. A Buddy Holly look alike and actually quite good.
Janelle Monae was the second big act. She gave a weird stage show that left us both wondering “what the heck was that all about”? But at least she can sing. It looked like scenes from “Eyes wide shut” heavy black capes and masks which must have been extraordinarily hot under the lights and the Sao Paulo heat. There was much writhing on the floor which we couldn’t see because we were standing right in front below the stage, and at the end she drenched herself in water – presumably to cool down which seems a pretty stupid thing to do given the amount of electrical current that must have been surging all over the stage.
So by around 10.15 she was done and the stage was set for the final act – Amy Winehouse. It took about 30 minutes to get the set ready, and a further hour to get Amy ready……whatever that involves.
By this time the audience were getting pretty restless. Although you couldn’t take alcohol into the area, it was pretty much available once inside. Between the audience and the stage there was a barrier patrolled by security guards. There were a couple of scuffles that broke out and within a very short space of time they were over the barriers and in with the crowd. The crowd then chanted and pointed to the guilty party or parties and summary justice was swift with the accused removed from the scene. We didn’t know whether they were removed altogether or just out of that space, but they were gone.
Being an open area, everyone was smoking and personal space was at a premium. Having stood so long in one place though, everyone was aware of the people around them, and when people tried to crash the space to make it closer to the front, the long standers basically closed ranks and stopped them getting through. Summary justice in action again. We had stood for hours to be twenty feet from the stage and no-one was going to get in front of us.
Amy Winehouse was actually pretty good. She is tiny and was dwarfed by the band around her. Her speaking voice is pure London, but her singing voice is quite amazing. Not sure if she was really drunk or just acting the part but there was a certain amount of swaying which looked completely uncoordinated. She had a mug of something that she was drinking from – not sure if it was vodka or chamomile tea or maybe both. She sang all her big hits and a lot besides and the audience were pretty receptive, even when she forgot the lyrics, which she did on several occasions.
After the concert began the nightmare of getting out. Thank god for Marcelo. Fifteen minutes after we left, we saw him and sank into the back of the car, feet aching and very grateful not to be stood upright. Five hours of standing at my age is too much, I am the first to admit.
That said, am I glad I went? Absolutely.
Would I go again to a concert like that? Absolutely not.
Monday, January 10, 2011
International Travel, Wednesday January 5, 2011
There is nothing glamorous about international travel, or any travel for that matter. Gone are the days of anticipation and excitement about a trip. Now it is a means to an end with a destination in sight.
Don’t get me wrong, I love it when I get there, but the whole process of packing, booking, organizing, sorting and planning every last detail leaves me absolutely cold. I need a secretary. That person of course is me. When the children are with us, and even when they are travelling without me, it is up to me to book the flights and organize end to end transport. In the case of Emma, her flight to the US generally arrives before school opens and so she needs to be taken somewhere and then we need to organize the final leg of the trip.
Charles can be left a bit more to his own devices, but having managed to temporarily mislay passport, green card and boarding pass in the airport last year, my heart is on my mouth every time he flies.
So tonight Steve and I are off to the UK for a friend’s birthday party. It is a total extravagance and a belated Christmas present to each other. Why would we swap 30 Degrees Celsius (86 degrees farenheit) in Sao Paulo for 7 degrees (45 degrees farenheit) in London, unless they were really good friends. It is also a chance to see family, and there are never enough excuses for that.
So we were driving to the airport when I realized that I had not only forgotten my American Express credit card, but also my driver’s license. Now, I do have a check list, but clearly this failed me. The credit card s necessary because it has automatic insurance for the rental car, and the driver’s license is well obvious.
Here is where the problem occurred. I have a UK wallet – pink; a US wallet – red; and a Brazilian wallet – black. The idea is that everything needed for every country is in the correct place and all I have to do is pick up the correct colour and all is well. In theory at least but I was let down by the fact that I have managed to end up with everything in the wrong place. I always seem to need things, take them out of the appropriate place and then fail to put them back.
“Marcelo, para casa por favor”. Steve took charge at this point and decided that we didn’t have time to go back. He had his Amex card, US driving license as well as Brazilian (yes – Avis do accept both) and he announced that he will do all the driving. Result – apart from the fact that I hate being driven by him – which may be the subject of another blog. Clearly I have been in Brazil too long and have no expectation of driving.
So the international airport is heaving with people. It is holiday season here in Brazil and the world and his wife are travelling. Check in is fine – we both have enough frequent flyer miles to avoid the big queues, but getting through security and immigration, no such privileges.
Now I have an artificial hip, so going through airport security is a nightmare. Zimmer have very kindly given me a card with my name and the type of device that I have printed on it, but none of the security officials take any notice of it.
Going through security in the United States is a serious hassle. There have been a lot of reports in the press lately about the full body scanners and the full body pat down. I would happily go through the full body scanner if I could avoid the full body pat down. I am told they are coming to Newark but so far no joy. So the system is that you set of the alarm, collect your belongings from the belt but don’t touch them. Then in full view of everyone you have to stand on a mat and get the full body massage. Intrusive – absolutely. Gone are the days when they would wave a wand in your direction. Now it is back front and centre. Up and down. Groin, breasts – you name it. If there is a place they can pat you down, trust me they will.
I loved when we lived in Israel. There they racially profile you with no apologies. Forty something with 2 small children got much less attention than a single male travelling alone. Politically incorrect? Absolutely, but it works.
So I love Brazil. I went through the metal detector and sure enough, bells and whistles. Turn around and try again – same result. Take off watch – try again – same result. Take off boots – try again. No alarm. Huh????
Steve and I suspect that the guy in charge of the metal detector had turned down the sensitivity.
Racial profiling Brazilian style – you have to love it
Don’t get me wrong, I love it when I get there, but the whole process of packing, booking, organizing, sorting and planning every last detail leaves me absolutely cold. I need a secretary. That person of course is me. When the children are with us, and even when they are travelling without me, it is up to me to book the flights and organize end to end transport. In the case of Emma, her flight to the US generally arrives before school opens and so she needs to be taken somewhere and then we need to organize the final leg of the trip.
Charles can be left a bit more to his own devices, but having managed to temporarily mislay passport, green card and boarding pass in the airport last year, my heart is on my mouth every time he flies.
So tonight Steve and I are off to the UK for a friend’s birthday party. It is a total extravagance and a belated Christmas present to each other. Why would we swap 30 Degrees Celsius (86 degrees farenheit) in Sao Paulo for 7 degrees (45 degrees farenheit) in London, unless they were really good friends. It is also a chance to see family, and there are never enough excuses for that.
So we were driving to the airport when I realized that I had not only forgotten my American Express credit card, but also my driver’s license. Now, I do have a check list, but clearly this failed me. The credit card s necessary because it has automatic insurance for the rental car, and the driver’s license is well obvious.
Here is where the problem occurred. I have a UK wallet – pink; a US wallet – red; and a Brazilian wallet – black. The idea is that everything needed for every country is in the correct place and all I have to do is pick up the correct colour and all is well. In theory at least but I was let down by the fact that I have managed to end up with everything in the wrong place. I always seem to need things, take them out of the appropriate place and then fail to put them back.
“Marcelo, para casa por favor”. Steve took charge at this point and decided that we didn’t have time to go back. He had his Amex card, US driving license as well as Brazilian (yes – Avis do accept both) and he announced that he will do all the driving. Result – apart from the fact that I hate being driven by him – which may be the subject of another blog. Clearly I have been in Brazil too long and have no expectation of driving.
So the international airport is heaving with people. It is holiday season here in Brazil and the world and his wife are travelling. Check in is fine – we both have enough frequent flyer miles to avoid the big queues, but getting through security and immigration, no such privileges.
Now I have an artificial hip, so going through airport security is a nightmare. Zimmer have very kindly given me a card with my name and the type of device that I have printed on it, but none of the security officials take any notice of it.
Going through security in the United States is a serious hassle. There have been a lot of reports in the press lately about the full body scanners and the full body pat down. I would happily go through the full body scanner if I could avoid the full body pat down. I am told they are coming to Newark but so far no joy. So the system is that you set of the alarm, collect your belongings from the belt but don’t touch them. Then in full view of everyone you have to stand on a mat and get the full body massage. Intrusive – absolutely. Gone are the days when they would wave a wand in your direction. Now it is back front and centre. Up and down. Groin, breasts – you name it. If there is a place they can pat you down, trust me they will.
I loved when we lived in Israel. There they racially profile you with no apologies. Forty something with 2 small children got much less attention than a single male travelling alone. Politically incorrect? Absolutely, but it works.
So I love Brazil. I went through the metal detector and sure enough, bells and whistles. Turn around and try again – same result. Take off watch – try again – same result. Take off boots – try again. No alarm. Huh????
Steve and I suspect that the guy in charge of the metal detector had turned down the sensitivity.
Racial profiling Brazilian style – you have to love it
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Parque Ibirapuera. Sunday January 2, 2011
My favourite place in the whole of Sao Paulo is Parque Ibirapuera. I try and walk the dog there several times a week. There are so many paths, roads and green areas, that I reckon it is possible to do a different route every day for a month without having to repeat the same circuit.
If you “Google map” the park and then look at the satellite view, you can see the lake, the green spaces and the Oscar Niemeyer buildings that are dotted around. These comprise exhibition spaces; an auditorium, museums and a huge covered area that stretches almost from one side of the park to the other. This covered area is great for skate boarding, cycling, concerts and above all, somewhere to go when it rains. I have no idea how many people could get underneath the cover but if someone said to me it would hold 100,000 I wouldn’t be surprised. It is quite simply a huge space.
I also love the park because it is a health and safety nightmare. If this park were located in America or even the UK these days, I can honestly say that it would have to be closed down. For example, there are many areas where tree roots have broken up the sidewalks and the road. Instead of trying to fix them, some of them are highlighted with white paint and hey, the kids love to ride their bikes over them simulating some sort of obstacle course.
Recently a tree fell down, but rather than cut it up and haul away the pieces, they made a sculpture out of what was left. For about a month, several people cut, sawed, smoothed and worked away at the fallen trunk and made the most amazing play space with a hollowed out trunk to crawl through, smooth areas to sit on and a rope net to climb all over. Can you imagine the reaction Health and Safety police? Heaven forbid that someone might get a splinter.
On a busy day, which is normally most weekends, there are literally thousands of people there. And here is what I love the most. People walk dogs, roller blade, cycle, walk, run, jog, and picnic and hang out, all in the same space. There is just the most amazing sense of tolerance between everyone. There is a cycle path that the cyclists tend to stick to but often don’t. Similarly, there are always people walking in the bit that is there for the cyclists. The jogging trail often has walkers and they don’t all go the same way. There are numerous basketball courts and five side football fields, none of which have fences round. The result is that often a ball will come hurtling out of nowhere, but no matter, just throw it back in and let people carry on. I love that a basketball court can be used by two different groups at the same time - one at either end. You would think they would join forces and play a real game, but that isn’t the point. Everyone can do pretty much what they like, where and when they like and everyone gets on together.
There is a huge lake but no fence around it and not even a sign warning of the dangers of falling in. The only sign says “please don’t feed the fish because our food is not suitable for them”. There are feral cats, but I have never once seen them chase any of the ducks, geese or black and white swans, so even the wildlife seem to live in harmony.
Here’s another thing that I love about the place. About every 50 yards or so there are bins and people really use them. They clean up after their dogs and so the park cleaners have a lot of their work done for them. Sure there is always litter, but generally it is a really clean space. There are always loads of people sweeping up the fallen leaves and that, it has to be said, is a never ending task given the amount of trees and foliage that is there.
There are several cafes, and about every hundred yards or so, there are vendors with carts selling everything from iced coconut juice, ice creams and every manner of bagged snack you can think of. At the weekends when there are lots of families, there are vendors selling every type of ball, windmill and kite. Photographers wander around trying to take your photo and very occasionally, I see an old man busking with his accordion. What is really good though is that there is absolutely no pressure to stop and buy – no aggravated selling of anything. It is just there if you want it.
Today it was raining when Marcelo came to pick me up. Tessie, it has to be said, doesn’t the rain, but she doesn’t let it stop her if she hears the magic word “walkies”. We got to the park and Marcelo asked if I wanted to be dropped at the covered area so I could spend an hour walking under cover without getting wet. But today I was prepared for the rain, a Barbour raincoat, hat and Hunter Wellies.
I have to say it was absolutely magical. If I passed 5 people I would have been surprised. The cafes were open but there were no vendors to be seen and even the park police stayed indoors. I felt as though we had the whole park to ourselves. We walked in the middle of the road, in the cycle lane and in the joggers’ area. It literally poured with rain – heavy tropical rain – the sort that soaks you in an instant, but we really didn’t mind.
There was absolutely no one around and I loved it even more than usual.
Marcelo must have thought that we were mad.
If you “Google map” the park and then look at the satellite view, you can see the lake, the green spaces and the Oscar Niemeyer buildings that are dotted around. These comprise exhibition spaces; an auditorium, museums and a huge covered area that stretches almost from one side of the park to the other. This covered area is great for skate boarding, cycling, concerts and above all, somewhere to go when it rains. I have no idea how many people could get underneath the cover but if someone said to me it would hold 100,000 I wouldn’t be surprised. It is quite simply a huge space.
I also love the park because it is a health and safety nightmare. If this park were located in America or even the UK these days, I can honestly say that it would have to be closed down. For example, there are many areas where tree roots have broken up the sidewalks and the road. Instead of trying to fix them, some of them are highlighted with white paint and hey, the kids love to ride their bikes over them simulating some sort of obstacle course.
Recently a tree fell down, but rather than cut it up and haul away the pieces, they made a sculpture out of what was left. For about a month, several people cut, sawed, smoothed and worked away at the fallen trunk and made the most amazing play space with a hollowed out trunk to crawl through, smooth areas to sit on and a rope net to climb all over. Can you imagine the reaction Health and Safety police? Heaven forbid that someone might get a splinter.
On a busy day, which is normally most weekends, there are literally thousands of people there. And here is what I love the most. People walk dogs, roller blade, cycle, walk, run, jog, and picnic and hang out, all in the same space. There is just the most amazing sense of tolerance between everyone. There is a cycle path that the cyclists tend to stick to but often don’t. Similarly, there are always people walking in the bit that is there for the cyclists. The jogging trail often has walkers and they don’t all go the same way. There are numerous basketball courts and five side football fields, none of which have fences round. The result is that often a ball will come hurtling out of nowhere, but no matter, just throw it back in and let people carry on. I love that a basketball court can be used by two different groups at the same time - one at either end. You would think they would join forces and play a real game, but that isn’t the point. Everyone can do pretty much what they like, where and when they like and everyone gets on together.
There is a huge lake but no fence around it and not even a sign warning of the dangers of falling in. The only sign says “please don’t feed the fish because our food is not suitable for them”. There are feral cats, but I have never once seen them chase any of the ducks, geese or black and white swans, so even the wildlife seem to live in harmony.
Here’s another thing that I love about the place. About every 50 yards or so there are bins and people really use them. They clean up after their dogs and so the park cleaners have a lot of their work done for them. Sure there is always litter, but generally it is a really clean space. There are always loads of people sweeping up the fallen leaves and that, it has to be said, is a never ending task given the amount of trees and foliage that is there.
There are several cafes, and about every hundred yards or so, there are vendors with carts selling everything from iced coconut juice, ice creams and every manner of bagged snack you can think of. At the weekends when there are lots of families, there are vendors selling every type of ball, windmill and kite. Photographers wander around trying to take your photo and very occasionally, I see an old man busking with his accordion. What is really good though is that there is absolutely no pressure to stop and buy – no aggravated selling of anything. It is just there if you want it.
Today it was raining when Marcelo came to pick me up. Tessie, it has to be said, doesn’t the rain, but she doesn’t let it stop her if she hears the magic word “walkies”. We got to the park and Marcelo asked if I wanted to be dropped at the covered area so I could spend an hour walking under cover without getting wet. But today I was prepared for the rain, a Barbour raincoat, hat and Hunter Wellies.
I have to say it was absolutely magical. If I passed 5 people I would have been surprised. The cafes were open but there were no vendors to be seen and even the park police stayed indoors. I felt as though we had the whole park to ourselves. We walked in the middle of the road, in the cycle lane and in the joggers’ area. It literally poured with rain – heavy tropical rain – the sort that soaks you in an instant, but we really didn’t mind.
There was absolutely no one around and I loved it even more than usual.
Marcelo must have thought that we were mad.
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