Back in big bad BA

So goodbye Braz…hello real life in Buenos Aires. Haha, yeah right…“real life“..who am I kidding…I’m in play land righ now…but even in play land one must some how make a living… Soooooo folks, im delighted to inform you all that you are now looking at the g-darn cutest engish teacher this side of the Rio Plata. Yes, the rumors are true...I landed a solid job as an English teacher for snooty business men. how i managed to pull it off is beyond me, having no previous experiance...BUT embelishing a tad on the ol´ resume and talking like you know what the fuck you´re talking about apparently is enough to make a career out of nothing. No complaints here. I had my very first class yesterday and my client liked me so much that his report back to my boss landed me another client.

Anyhoo, teaching is fun and soooo ridiculously easy. I basically get paid to sit in a fancy office, sip on a latte, and have a converstation for two hours...and I´m 40 pesos richer...just like that. I almost feel bad...buuuuuuut not that bad. Hopefully I will aquire more students in the near future and I´ll be realin in the big dough. Yeeeeeeeeah.

Bye bye Braz...you kept it real

The last night we were there we had to do it big, so after a samba show and two trendy/way overpriced night clubs we put on or b-suits and hit the beach at 5 am to watch the sunrise with some local buddies. The water was colder than a witches niple, but it was waaaaaaaaaay worth it. Just peep the pics and you’ll see what I'm talkin' abooooot...

Well hello 2009...how you doin'?

New Years eve can most easily and accurately be described as pure debauchery. It is a well known Brazilian tradition to wear white on New Years. It signifies rebirth as we gracefully transition into a new year. Others may choose to wear yellow for money, pink for love, or red for passion. I was tempted to throw on a red regalia, but I thought the color might clash with my sunburned forehead…so white it was! Our night began with a warm up at the house…you know a few capirinhas…a little dancing…the usual.

Then we rendezvoused with Jano at a friends house near by to do a little pre-gamin’ before we unleashed ourselves onto the packed beach party celebration. The host of party surely must have been playing a cruel and devious joke on the attendees due to the fact that she whipped up one of the most potent garlic spreads in the history of party snacks and served it up generously to all the guests. By the time we arrived at the party it was garlic breath city and there was no turning back. You could imagine the look on my face when one of the garlic eaters proposed that everyone kiss on the lips after the countdown…I pretended I didn’t hear.

We spent the rest of the night dunk stumbling around the beach that was packed with over a million people. I won’t say who, but someone accidentally gave my wallet as a peace offering to the ocean…goodbye wallet, you were all that I hoped you would be…tear. Anyhoo, I topped off the night by praying to the porceline god for a good hour…and then when there was nothing left to throw up I hobbled off to bed…and then of course...

...breakfast at 4pm the next day…we keep it classy folks.

Favella Fun...

Breno, being the fantastically social solialite and entertainer that he is, was alwasy having international buddies crash at the pad...sometimes for weeks at a time! First there was Fabio from San Paolo who spent of few lazy days with us guzzling Caphirinas in crappy cabanas on the beach. Then came Tom, a Berlin Native and international DJ super star. At first we thought our little Tommy boy was gay, then we realized that he’s just German. Anyhoo Tombo became our right hand man and we spent massive amounts of time with our new found friend.

One wild and crazy night we got dressed up all fancy style and headed out

to a samba club with Tom, but after befriending a welcoming local at the samba gig our plans quickly diverted onto another path and before we knew it we were relentlessly speeding down a dirt road in an unmarked ten-seater van on our way to a massive Brazilian funk party rager dead smack in the middle of a favella. This funk club was quite possibly the most insane venue I’ve ever laid eyes on. Picture a two story club chock full of half naked Brazilian men bumpin' and grindin' to the pounding rhythm of the funk that is the essence of Brazil.

At last I know where the world has been hiding its emergency stash of ridiculously good looking men, damn you world! Not to mention the lit up

stage fully equipped with a never ending booty shaking contest hosted by a gay transsexual named David Brazil. I never wanted to leave.

Jammin' in the name of Ferris

One night after a 4 hour stint in a Brazilian comedy club, non of which I could understand, we found ourselves with Bree’s entire family fully engaged in an all ages jam fest. Cousin Fernando, rockin' a pair of old trousers with two mismatched haviana sandals and a “SAVE FERRRIS” T-shirt, led us all with interpretive renditions of popular Beatles tunes.

It was Jamtastik indeed!

Clu-hu-hubbin...

The majority of our nights were spent following uber famoso DJ BRENO UNG around to all of his DJ gigs...

...all of which just so happened to be at gay clubs around Rio. The whole guys not into women thing was actually kind of nice because you don’t have to worry about sleazy men sleazing all over you, or do you??? I learned the hard way that “Gay” in Brazil means that they can vigorously make out with another guy right in front of your face…and then try to kiss unsuspecting foreign chicks on the lips right after…way to throw a curve ball. Occasionally we would bump into a lost tourist bewildered by the lack of women in the club. We had to break it to them gently.

A little game that I like to call "Name that Brazilian"

We had the pleasure of bumping into some familiar faces during our stay in Brazville…some of which you just might remember from earlier days at the hill…

Who could forget the Brazilian hunk of burning love sensation Breno who conquered not one, but two blonde Lonsdale sisters one hot and steamy summer…

And of course the one and only Jano from ten years back…making his mark on the Rochester school contingency as the sole nominee and proud winner of the coveted “hottie of the year” award 1999...

And last but most certaintly not least...the long lost cousin of some of Quarry Hill's most loyal members...ladies and gentlemen...I present to you...Sam Drougas

Christ-worthy view

And golleeeeeeeeeeee, the view fom the top sure was purrrrdy!!!

Thanks for the fab day JC, you were fantastic and it was holy shit load of fun : 0

J to the C

We also made some time to hit up the quintessential tourist traps. I mean c’mon…it’s Brazil…of course we had to pay good ol’ Christ a visit…it was only right. And Jesus was looking exceptionally well that day…

I’m not sure exactly what it was…I think he did something different with his hair. So we did what anyone would do in this situation…PHOTO SHOOT WITH J.C.!!!

YES!

YES!

NO!

NO!

NO!

Bree's Here Bitches!

Bree arrived the next day and we were off to the beach in minutes. Lucking for us gals, Lucia’s penthouse apartment was a mere block and a half away from the beach in Copa Copbobanaaaaaaaa…go ahead…sign the song…I know you’re itchin’ to…

Unfortunately for me and for anyone within a 10ft vecinity of me...that very same catchy yet miserably cheesy tune was on repeat in my head the entire trip…no actually not the entire time…it was a steady tradeoff between that song and the equally infectious tune “the girl from Ipenema”…die cheesy songs DIE!!!

From that point on the whole trip was a continuous blur of new and exciting experiences. Our days were spent sipping fresh coconut water and partially cooking ourselves on the glorious beach.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah the beach, I thought I’d died and gone to Speedo heaven. That place has got a culture entirely its own. You can get everything you could possible need on the beach from a g-string bikini, to a hair wrap, to a block of fried cheese on a stick, to a heavy dose of sexual harassment…and everything in between!

Meet the Fam

I got there on December 23rd and Bree was supposed to be arriving the next day, although do to unfortunate series of events and a travesty on behave of a continental airlines stewardess, she spent Christmas alone in a hotel room and I spent Christmas sitting around a table with a bunch of strangers speaking a language that I couldn’t even begin to understand. But I can say one thing, Bree’s family is a bunch of characters fo’ shizzle.

The Christmas festivities took place at the home of Uncle Milton, or Milty as I prefer. Milty is laid back homeopathic doctor, a ladies man for sure…bachelor for life with a great sense of humor and a love for Samba. You know a George-type character.

Then there was Mi Mi. The matriarch of the family. An absolute sweetheart, but with a quickly failing memory due to Alzheimer’s. She sat next to me at dinner. She kept asking me the same two questions over and over again all night long…where was I from and why didn’t I speak Portuguese. As you can imagine our conversations were somewhat limited, but mutually amicable just the same.

And then there was Lucia. Aaaaah Lucia. She’s the kind of bad ass woman that fought her way up from secretary to the CEO of a major company. The kind of woman that wears skin tight leopard print dresses to Christmas dinner, who’s fire red hair compliments her tattooed eyebrows, and who’s raspy voice vigorously cuts through the smoke rings continuously escaping from her parched lips. You know, the kind of woman who’s nipple makes surprise appearances at breakfast slyly popping out of her red lace teddy to say hello…just remember “maintain eye contact”.

But her every single one of them took me in no questions asked and treated me like I was part of the family. They were all such generous and giving people, I felt very lucky : )

BRAZILICIOUS

So my rendezvous plans to meet Bree in Brazil were beginning to materialize and after three grueling days at the Brazilian consulate and several attempts to purchase a plane ticket online, I finally put my manipulation skills to work and was on my way to Rio de Janeiro with just one short layover in Uruguay…no biggie.

I must say, RIO IS B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L! An impossible city…a tropical New York built on a glistening beach crevissed between lush green coated mountains. The people are abnormally attractive, the food couldn‘t be more fresh, and the partys never cease to rage on into the abyss. Even the language is enchanting…with a few unsuspected pronunciation twists. In portugues, R’s are pronounced like H’s an T’s are pronounced like CH’s. For example, Rio de Janeiro is pronounced “heeo Shaneho” and in this city my name is no longer Katie, but Kaychee. Kind of a funky twinge eh?? It’s growing on me.