A Full Day

For the first time in a while, my day was full today. I woke up a little late--as usual since I've been here--and went straight for lunch at Laís' house. I'm not sure if the word "maid" is politically correct in the US anymore, but for lack of a better word I think I'm going to use it. While "housekeeper" seems adequate, I could argue that it doesn't completely satisfy the work these women do (not that "maid" does either). Sure, she "keeps the house," but if we're going to get technical it's an apartment. So should I use "apartmentkeeper?" No thanks. Plus, I feel like cooking and parental responsibilities fall into a realm beyond "keeping." Therefore, I'll use "maid." If you're truly unsatisfied with this word or have thoughts or suggestions, I urge you to comment or email.

Getting to the point... We had a delicious lunch consisting of some of the usual: salad, rice, beans, and some chicken. Cris, her family's maid, had prepared lunch for us after returning to work from a recent surgery. I won't get into those details since I'm talking about food. Each time I visit, I seem to relate very well to Tunico, their small poodle. Maybe it's because he doesn't speak Portuguese and ask me questions that feel impossible to understand. Before we left, I took a look through her father's collection of books and found some very interesting titles. And thank God, some books in English!

I'd recently spent some free time wandering around Wikipedia reading about history and finding some answers to random unanswered questions. We may curse the internet and the negatives it brings, but I am yet to find a more enjoyable resource than Wikipedia. About a week ago, I read about Che Guevara, an Argentine revolutionary and guerrilla leader who played a significant role in the Cuban Revolution of the late 1950s (among plenty of other major historic events). If you don't recognize the name for some reason, take a look at the popular image below.

 Che Guevara's popularized image. Photo Credit: http://www.fatamerican.tv/
t-shirt-archive/t-shirt-archive-images/ernesto-che-guevara450x.gif

If you still don't recognize the name or the image, sorry.

Not to bore too many of you with history, but Che Guevara led an interesting life. At the age of 22, he set out alone on a motorcycle trip across his native Argentina. A year later, he and a close friend traveled much of South America by motorcycle. This trip inspired his journeys filled with philosophical insight and social commentary, which are now called The Motorcycle Diaries. The book has also been made into a film of the same title. If you haven't seen it already, please do. And I emphasize the word "do" here.

Now I've ranted about Che Guevara, and I'm beginning to sound a Los Angeles yuppy who boasts his beret-wearing Che t-shirt. You know, that group of people who would wear it after hearing about Guevara at a Reggae festival downtown and still have the nerve to answer his friends' questions with "Are you serious?! You don't know who Che Guevara is?" I don't want to be that guy in many regards.

But really, there's a point to the rambling. Since it's getting complicated and long now, I'll draw a diagram.

seeing motorcycles in Aracaju --> desire for motorcycle --> thought of traveling around Brazil by motorcycle --> reminder of Che Guevara --> Wikipedia article --> desire to purchase the book, The Motorcycle Diaries --> realization that an imported English copy costs $30 here --> dissatisfaction

There. That's a diagram.

So I had this dilemma. The book was more than I wanted to pay. But lo and behold, rummaging through the book closet today, I discovered a title that seemed to be an offered compromise: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Zen. Motorcycles. Good enough.

I took the book, along with a copy of the Dhammapada, which contains Buddhist scripture describing a "Path to Virtue", and we set off to the Universidade Federal de Sergipe (Federal University of Sergipe). While Laís sat in class, I laid on a bench under some palm trees and the shade of another unknown. This seemed like a better option since I'd gone to a physics class with a friend a couple of weeks ago. I sat for nearly an hour and understood only the pictures the professor drew. I can summarize that one hour in four words: "ball rolls off table". The rest I didn't quite catch.

So I began this book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, accompanied by a can of Coca-Cola. The first page described a journey on a motorcycle headed Northwest from Minneapolis toward the Dakotas. Seriously? I run into this in the middle of Brazil? Dwight, if you've stood by all of this drudgingly long post, the book really reminds me of the NY Times article you sent a while back about "working with your hands". And those of you that were old enough to read in the 1970s (most of you) may even remember it. Apparently it was a bestseller. I'm only about 40 pages in and fully engaged--from motorcycle maintenance to Chautauquas.

I took a quick break and dove into the Dhammapada. I'll definitely put more time into these.

As you can see, I struggle in omitting details. On the way back from the university, we stopped at a friend's workplace. He works in a clinic. I'm not sure what he does there, but he wears a white lab coat, smokes too many cigarettes, and he made sure we went out the door with some medication. He told me the box he gave me was for anytime I get headaches despite reading "PRESCRIÇÃO MÉDICA," or "prescription medication." I decided to look into things on my own. 

Apparently, the main ingredient is dipyrone, or metamizole sodium, a drug banned in the US since 1977 for its tendency to lower white blood cell counts. After some reading, it sounds like another medical debate with decent evidence on both sides, but these pills are used similarly to ibuprofen in the US. There is also more caffeine than a cup of coffee and an almost equal dosage of a main ingredient used in migraine headache medications in the US. I think if I get a headache, I'll just wait it out.

Despite the medication, he gave me two papayas and some crackers--the best trip to the clinic I think I've ever had.

We went straight to Laís' workplace at an English school near her house. I'd been there once before but didn't encounter anyone that actually spoke English well enough to converse. Tonight, however, I met a few other teachers and talked for an hour or so while Laís was teaching a class, and eventually I was invited into the owner's classroom.

He had a class of about 10 students from 14-17 years old that were finishing the course after about 5 years of studying at the school. I was invited to the classroom so they could practice conversational English. I built a little perspective after an hour of the school's owner asking if I could recite the Lord's Prayer in English and how he could obtain a medical degree at the age of 65 were he to travel to the US. Aside from his strange questions, the students were a refreshing dose of something I've missed since leaving the US. Not only was I able to interact with young people, which I truly enjoy, but I was able to TALK to someone without sounding like an idiot!

At the end of class, another teacher told me he'd mentioned my visit to his classroom: "There's an American at our school today." The students asked, "When is he coming to our classroom?!" So I've been invited back, and I hope to be back soon.

So here I sit. Late at night writing about motorcycles, prescription medication, and Buddhism. I've also added some post-dated posts that weren't up yet, so be sure to check those out too.

Thanks again, and email me if you're bored at nmhaugen@gmail.com

Tchau for now!