We woke up and it was pouring outside. Buckets of rain.
Downstairs the woman at the front-desk confirmed, "Yes, it's going to be like this all day." She agreed that a trip to the waterfalls might not be worth it, "You won't even see them through all the mist."
I asked her if she could recommend anything else to do. Perhaps there were some museums downtown worth getting lost in for the afternoon?
"Have you been to Itaipu?"
Check.
"Have you been to the bird park?"
Check.
"Hmm.." she thought for a moment, "Well there's always the Shopping." Literally "Shopping" is the Portuguese word for "Mall." As in shopping mall. They took the first word and we in the USA decided to stick with the second. Here in Brazil, everyone hangs out at the Shopping. [Here in Porto Alegre there are a crazy amount of Shoppings, 16 I think. Of which I've been to 4 already, meu deus]
And in some ways, I think this day turned out to be my favorite day in the small town of Foz do Iguaçu. Okay, maybe not that small of town. There are around 300,000 residents there, but when you walk the empty street at night, it doesn't feel that big.
It's just that there's something about a day when your expectations are wiped clear and you've got a blank slate. You can't go do the grandiose, marvelous stuff, so you might as well enjoy the small things:
Like walking through the main street trying to share a tiny umbrella between the two of you, nearly knocking each other out in the process. No matter how much you love a person, trying to squeeze both bodies into the space offered underneath tiny umbrella is just not easy.
And getting to observe some Foz do Iguaçu street art.
Enjoying lunch at an shawarma cafe where the hummus tastes like chalky paste but the waitress is nice. Where the man at the cash register, who refused to talk to you earlier, presides over the place in the same manner as the man in the ginormous poster above his head. A man dressed like a king who sits fully waited upon by a young lad, putting more coal on his hookah, and a young lass serving him drinks.
Where you get to marvel again at the utter deliciousness of a fresh passion fruit and milk smoothie at a little roadside stand while Samosa downs an espresso. And the two young women who work there are so kind and just laughing all the time.
Where you realize nearly slipping across all the slick sidewalks that your old flip flops have finally had their day. And luckily, the Shopping has a rainbow selection of new ones (with the Brazilian flag on the straps of course) so the walk home won't be so treacherous.
Where finally you realize your dream of finding "Twilight" in Portuguese (Crepúsculo) at a bookstore in the Shopping. And your boyfriend is thoroughly embarrassed by your literary selection. "Hey," you try to rationalize, "I've wanted to read this book for some time now, ever since the kids I worked with in the high school gushed about it so much. And my friends all admitted to having a hard time putting it down. So, I figured that the best way to do it would be in another language - that way I'm technically learning at the same time as indulging in a guilty pleasure."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah" says Samosa, rolling his eyes, not buying any of it and aghast at how much this frivolous book cost in Brazilian reais.
Where you think you know where you're going as you walk the wet streets but in fact you don't. Neither of you do. The maps only mention the big streets anyhow. And you walk several more miles than necessary. But in fact it's great because you "discover" a totally different neighborhood you never would have seen otherwise. And you're both taking pictures and just having a good time.
And when in the late afternoon the sun starts to come out. You recognize where you are because you saw the Hotel San Juan, glowing blue, when you swam in the rooftop pool of your hotel the other night.
Yup, nerds having fun on a mostly rainy day in Foz do Iguaçu.
Happy birthday Samosa!
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment