Journalled on Thursday, 18th of May 2023 | Flamengo, Rio de Janeiro: 24 degrees, warmish, sunny, and slightly overcast.
It is Thursday, and it is a good day. Tomorrow will be Friday, then the weekend, but for now it is Thursday, and I have plans today.
I have my usual early-morning routine: getting up early, exercising, having coffee, and preparing for classes. One of my pupils, an old lady of 85, whom I dearly like, has unfortunately fallen and broken her arm.
She will be having surgery today, so there will not be a class. A fall for an old person is deadly; my dear grandmother once fell while going to the shops, breaking her arm and never fully recovered. I hope my pupil recovers well from the operation.
In the afternoon, I plan to walk from Praia de Botafogo to Catete, the next neighbourhood after Flamengo, about a three-kilometre walk.
I need to change the battery in my watch and buy a new skipping rope, as the old one broke last weekend. I skip intensely, so they don’t last long- a couple of months maximum- and then they begin to break or snap. So, I am free from two p.m. until my next class at five.
I have a thing for jeans and white flip-flops. I like the style; it is stylish, simple, classic, comfortable for hot carioca days and a little different. I finish my outfit with a black long-sleeve UV shirt that I always wear when I go out.
There is an ice cream parlour beside my building that sells açai, in addition to ice cream. As I had not had lunch yet, I thought of buying an açai and eating it while walking to Catete and listening to music with headphones. I love walking, listening to music and eating or drinking in the streets of Rio.
When I had the dogs, I would walk with them while listening to music and often drinking a long neck, preferably a Heineken or a Cerpa (a prime brand of Brazilian beer from northern Brazil).
I had always thought it was tacky to drink a beer whilst walking in the street, but for a time, I loved it. Now that I drink very little, I have replaced it with water or açai in the street instead of beer.
The afternoon was hot for autumn, warm in the sun and cool in the shade. For a Thursday, there were quite a few people on the street, and I felt good walking leisurely, eating cold açai, and listening to either Sigur Rós or Talk Talk.
It is good to do things we like that make us feel good and unique, even if they are silly or not very interesting to others. If they make us feel good, then they are good.
I found a medical and health supply shop in Largo do Machado that sells the same rope I used before at a lower price.
After buying the rope, I looked for a watch repair shop; it was a dying breed, but someone pointed me to a street vendor with a stall in front of the main street, selling all kinds of things, including watches and batteries. He had the battery I needed, and for R$20.00, he changed it in less than two minutes.
I thought it was a little expensive, but the old man was extremely nice, and it was clear he was another northeasterner who had made his life, family, and living in Rio, like so many other heroes from the north of Brazil. As always, I asked him his name, and he told me it was Silverino; you can’t get more northeastern than Silverino. I, of course, paid, thanked him, and began my return home for my 5 pm class.
It is so good to break the routine and do something different.
Spending our whole day, every day, on the grindstone is not living. It is just survival, especially in a country like Brazil, where the skilled and qualified may have the freedom to be more adventurous, while the semi-skilled working class has to live each day as if it were their last, paying the bills.
I arrived home feeling happy after escaping from my schedule. The rest of the day’s classes went well. Sometimes, sorting out small but significant problems can lift our day-to-day lives, which really helps us sort out our shit!!!
My name is still dirt with my daughter Yasmin, but I do not care.
In bed by 10 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading my blog. Check out my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments.
Richard
