Journalled on Tuesday, 9th of May 2023 | Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro: 28 degrees, warm, sunny, and slightly overcast.
Tuesday marks the third day I’ve been living in Flamengo with my ex-wife.
Until now, everything has been OK, and it should still be in the early days. I get up early in Flamengo at 4:30 a.m. and am out in the street by 5:00 a.m. Today,
I decided not to go to the park to exercise, but to walk instead. I wanted to walk around the neighbourhood to get to know and remember where I had lived for twenty years. I walked from Praia de Botafogo up Rui Barbosa, a charming street with tall, lush trees and imposing buildings facing the Bay, and into Praia de Flamengo.
I didn’t want to walk along the beach; I preferred to stay in the neighbourhood, walking on the pavement in front of the buildings, since time was short today. When I reached Rua Barão de Flamengo, I turned in as if making a round trip and turning back on myself. Halfway along the street, a small botequim was already open at half past five.
People were already having coffee, a salgado(a Brazilian snack), breakfast, etc. Three tables sat on the street in front of the two large entrance openings, so I seized the opportunity to sit outside and have a coffee as the sun began to appear. SUBLIME!
I love sitting outside a bar, restaurant, or bakery, drinking something, especially in a city like Rio, where the weather is perfect for such a simple but profound pleasure: stopping, sitting, and watching the world go by over a good coffee.
Next to me at another table were the owner and friends, men who worked along the street selling parking spaces and were talking and arguing about football and then politics, the two main subjects in Brazil for the last fifty to one hundred years.
We like to talk about the weather in England, but in Brazil, it’s football and politics, and maybe women are far behind Brazilian men. I didn’t join the conversation; I just wanted to stay quiet and be alone, enjoying a good coffee in tranquillity in the early morning hours in Rio de Janeiro. It is so GOOD!
After coffee, I bought two coxinhas (a Brazilian chicken pastry snack) at the same botequim, said my goodbyes to everyone, and continued on my way home. At the end of the street is a prominent 24-hour newsstand that sells almost everything imaginable.
Again, I took advantage of the situation and bought incense. Four sticks of your choice for R$10.00. I went shopping at six o’clock in the morning, and, besides all this, I was very well treated in both establishments.
When I was a child growing up in England, my father ran a newsagent’s shop that he opened at five o’clock in the morning to catch workers going to and from the factories as they changed shifts. When I was young, not even a teenager, I would go and work with him in the shop.
My father was a workaholic; he loved working and caring for customers. This rubbed off on me, and I understand the importance of listening and treating people well, giving the best possible experience without being overbearing.
My pupils at the school often commented on how well they were received, how unique the treatment was, and how helpful it was. If I am not well received at an establishment in a good, pleasant, and professional way, and I am not thanked or shown any gratitude after paying, it is difficult for me to return.
My father had also taught me the importance of quickly adding up in my head.
Customers would enter the shop, take various items from the shelves or the counter in front of us, and expect us to total them immediately and without error.
I would also have to receive the money in cash and immediately know in my head how much change to give, and again, I could not be wrong! Nowadays, shop assistants need a calculator to add up two items, charge the customer, and then calculate the change.
People are even too lazy to think nowadays.
When I arrived home, Yasmin and Nalva had already left, so I at least had the flat to myself for the first part of the day; nice. I showered, changed, and gave classes for the rest of the day. Yasmin arrived home from school around 1 pm, and she made her own lunch, which was nice and made me proud.
Moving back to Flamengo has been a culture shock after living in Copacabana, but this isn’t the time to talk about it.
In bed by 9.30 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading my blog. Check out my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments.
Richard
