Journalled on Friday, 14th of April 2023 | Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro: 27 degrees, warm, sunny and slightly cloudy.
Friday is the last working day of the week and sometimes the hardest.
In the past, I worked until 2 p.m. at the latest on Fridays, then I was free.
Often, I would work only until midday, so for me, the weekend began super early. I would like to have lunch with a friend at a special place, like Urca or Santa Teresa. Nowadays, Friday is one of the busiest and most difficult days.
Throughout the week, I teach classes, which leaves me tired, so by Friday I am usually completely exhausted. Also, because it’s getting harder to make money in Brazil, I can no longer afford to have Friday afternoons off. I have to give a regularly scheduled class or an extra/rescheduled class on Fridays to avoid losing money or a pupil.
Over the last couple of weeks, I have been comparing Brazil as it was when I arrived with the first ten years before the Workers’ Party (PT) entered office. PT entered office in 2002, and I had already been in Brazil since April 1989, first in Jardins, São Paulo, and later, for the most part, in Rio.
Before coming to Brazil, I lived in London and was in a relationship with Adriana, who came from São Paulo. She belonged to a Quattrocento family, a highly respected, traditional Brazilian Paulista family with strong Italian heritage.
Many Italians migrated to Brazil and settled in São Paulo, and some of these families are over 400 years old (known as quattrocento families) and have a deeply rooted Italian culture. When I told Adriana about my plans to visit Brazil, she kindly offered to let me stay with her family at their home in Jardins, which was considered one of the best neighbourhoods in São Paulo at the time.
When I arrived in Brazil, I landed in São Paulo while Adriana stayed in London for a few more months.
I remember Adriana’s younger brother picking me up from the airport and taking me to their family home. Their house was a small semi-detached townhouse in a quiet cul-de-sac in the Jardins.
Because of her parents’ divorce and poor management of the family businesses, they lost a lot of money. Furthermore, the terrible state of the Brazilian economy, which was in another recession, had made the family feel somewhat diminished compared to its former name and prestige.
After meeting Adriana’s family, they invited me to see my bedroom and rest a little after my long flight. I entered a small, charming guest bedroom, tastefully decorated, with a single bed against one wall.
At the opposite end of the room, an open window with shutters faced out onto a backyard. In the distance, not so far away, I could see a group of tall palm trees swaying in the light breeze mixed with the late afternoon sun. The temperature of about 23 degrees gave me an epiphany of happiness and bliss.
In 1989, the internet and the modern amenities we take for granted today did not exist.
Despite Sarney’s second economic plan for Brazil, which supposedly froze everything from food to salaries amid hyperinflation of 1,000% a year, Brazil still had something unique and special about it at the time. Although supermarket shelves were sparsely stocked and prices constantly changed, the country still had a sublime, singular charm.
Of course, people would complain about the government, the economy, prices, and the day-to-day problems of living in a country like Brazil, but something else remained: a glimpse of something special that people believed in; hope in their souls. Everything was more straightforward, and the people, even though they suffered, were happier than they are now.
The view of the palm trees from my bedroom window, swaying in the afternoon sun and breeze, and the warmth of my first day in Brazil- I have carried all of this with me all this time. I will never forget it, and it has kept me in Brazil all this time and kept my hope from flickering out.
I am sure that the first ten years in Brazil were my best; even my mother, who has been to Brazil more than ten times over the last 30 years, says Brazil is worse every time she goes.
I have also spoken a lot with Yasmin about Brazil’s future and the possibility of her living in England or another country, since we do not know what will happen or how much worse it will get there.
I picked up Yasmin in the evening after her last class so she could stay with me for the weekend. It is the first weekend in three weeks that she’s been with me; she’s been taking exams, and money is tight too. When she is not with me, I miss her too much.
In bed by 9 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading my blog. Check out my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments.
Richard
