Crazy Bus Drivers and Apartment Renovation

The last several days have been a blur of activity. We successfully got into an apartment. A huge relief, since we were hours from living in cardboard boxes. Despite all the odds against me, and the number of people who said it couldn't be done, I broke record finding a place to live before Carnaval. It's not all roses, the toilet leaks, some lights don't work, and its filthy, but its home for the next year. The location is optimal. We are walking distance from everything we could possibly want. Additionally, I could throw a coconut from here and hit the beach. We are on the 2nd floor of a condominium complex with about 8 families and an older couple that lives in the "cobertura" or penthouse. There is a 24-hour door man that monitors the street and activity coming and going into the building. If someone wants to come to our apartment he gives us a ring for permission. Each of the buildings around here has a doorman and often a locked gate. On each side of the street are parking monitors. I believe it is the cities attempt to employ as many people as possible, but the parking monitors are people that help you park your car. You are expected to give them 2 reais for the service. They also keep people from stealing your car. As a good citizen, you are expected to leave your car in neutral so that they can roll the car forward or back and line the cars up bumper to bumper so they can fit more in. When it gets really full, they start parking the cars on the sidewalk. This is no big deal in city where everybody clearly understands that pedestrians have no rights. As they say, "the law of gross tonnage wins". In any case all the doormen, parking attendants, street sweepers, and corner newspaper stand men have worked these streets for years and it is a little bit of a neighborly eco-system on each avenue.

(fast forward 2 week) This apartment is fairly modern and has relatively new appliances. It is in the best shape by far, of any apartment that I have looked at. That being said, I have spent the better part of the last week supervising an army of workers trying to square this place away. Broken lights, toilets, stoves, water heaters and bare dangling wires from electrical sockets were the highlights, followed by painters, floor installers and cleaners. Quite a project really, complicated by the fact that during Carnaval and the immediate week after, nobody likes to work that hard and by that I mean not at all. I still have some cleanup items that I just couldn't get done before Kellee gets here, but I feel satisfied with the progress. Lori, my relocator, has been invaluable. I couldn't have done this with out her. She is on the phone daily cracking the whip, alternating between sweet talk, loud demands, and downright shaming the contractors into honoring the schedules they set.

The apartment is in the Leblon area which is just down the beach from the famous Ipanema Beach. Leblon is a little quieter. For those of you who know San Diego, it compares to La Jolla, while Ipanema would be PB. I like it a little better. I t is sort of a village here with 100's of bars, restaurants, and shops within a few blocks. All of them friendly and more than willing to serve us with a smile while sticking it to us with incredibly marked up prices. The Marines from the Marine Security Guard that protect the Consulate live in a house about 4 blocks away, which is a comforting factor, along with the alarm that is being installed that rings directly to Marine Post One at the consulate guard post.

While I have been down here by myself I have taken on the additional responsibility of sampling as much of the local eateries as possible and taste-testing all the local draft beer so that I can make good recommendations to Kellee when she arrives. I'ts been hard work, but I knew I could handle it. I have also been experimenting with the local buses. Generally, they are clean and secure, but I wouldn't say they are safe….at least they don't feel safe. The bus drivers here would all be arrested in the US. They careen around corners at high rates of speed, sometimes racing each other and then suddenly slamming on the brakes as the next bus stop appears. My last ride I actually saw the bus driver accelerate towards an unsuspecting herd of tourists caught midway in the crosswalk. They scattered like pigeons as 20,000 pounds of screeching bus barreled by. A further example of the sinister nature of the local bus drivers happened yesterday. I was in Centro on an expedition to find drawer handles that fit the furniture in my house; mine were rusted beyond repair by the staggering humidity. I had just left the Centro shopping district which I can only compare to the Gold Souk in Dubai or maybe Mos Eisely Spaceport for you Star Wars geeks. Imagine centuries old, narrow cobbled streets, a thousand shops all selling the same thing, and random smells that waft across your nose just often enough to remind you that a large part of Brazil remains entrenched in the third world. All this is set to the back ground of local music blasting from various shop speakers and taxis. I had just finished risking my life in the new Olympic sport of running across 12 lanes of hurtling bus traffic to reach the other side of the street like that fabled chicken. Once I reached safety I let my guard down….too much. I was standing on the curb waiting for a taxi and let my gaze wonder away. The next thing I saw was a bus mirror passing no more than two inches from my nose. The air blast hit me next and push me away to safety. My sense of shock was turned to anger as the driver accelerated away bathing me in a greasy coat of diesel exhaust. I couldn't be angry for long as I mulled the other possible outcomes. Lesson learned.

Kellee arrives on Friday and I can't wait to see her and Hannah. It's been too long and I have missed them both. We are all looking forward to this being a good tour to concentrate on being a family and spending lots of time together, recharging the batteries after years of running on the margin with the Marine Corps' schedule. Hopefully, my Portuguese will continue to improve at a steady rate. I am tired of not being fluent, and yet I have a ways to go. I can only imagine how godawful my Portuguese sounds. In my minds eye I am the stereotypical asian tourist in the B-movies with the horrible, heavy accident that is unwittingly about to be eaten by Godzilla or some other creature. Maybe I just sound like a Texan, who knows. Talk to you all soon. Ryan

Big Party and Soon to be Homeless

(a note about connectivity- this email is a little dated as I have had almost know internet connectivity for over a week now. I finally found a hot-spot in a shopping center. However, a unique combination of internet fickleness and the average Brazilian IT employees revulsion to work during Carnaval make this a tenuous connection at best. Besides the difficulties in staying in touch, it makes closing on a land deal very frustrating as well-anyway, excuses, excuses. I apologize to all for the unanswered emails.)

Well it has been two days since I have written an email about what I have been experiencing down here. Believe me, I wanted to write earlier but it was impossible because I was too worn out. Since I last wrote the population of Rio seems to have doubled. There was a noticeable difference in the number of people in the city. I guess it is the early Carnaval crowd. Yesterday I met an Army officer and his extended family. It has been a great experience to meet some of the military folks that have been down here for a while. They are completely plugged into the local culture and welcome all of us newcomers with open arms. Most of my friends from my Portuguese class are replacing other officers down here. Through them I am meeting people that know the city well. It is great to have instant friends.

Yesterday, I met Cory. He was an Army Blackhawk pilot that has since been assigned to the Brazilian Army as an instructor at their academy. His fiancé is a local Rio girl, that he met here in town. They invited us all over for a party and showed us a great time. We went to their house in Leblon, where I am hoping to live. After a get together at their place we went to a Samba demonstration at a local venue. The Samba school Rio Grande put on a practice show. I learned that most of the schools do this leading up to Carnaval. It was a great party. Like I have said many times, I look at everything as a language learning experience. During the pre-party I got to practice my Portuguese in a friendly environment where I could make many mistakes and get away with it. Everybody was very accommodating. Actually, several of the people are trying to learn Spanish and/or English, so I thought that everybody was very accepting of the fact that I didn't speak perfect Portuguese because they already respected the difficulty of learning another language. In any case, they made us feel welcome.

After several hours we went to the Rio Grande Samba demonstration. I learned quickly that it was really just an excuse to party. But besides the party, the dance demonstration was incredible. I never really knew what the Samba beat was before, but it is burned into my brain now. Samba, as you see it in the States is a form of ballroom dancing. This type of Samba has almost nothing in common with the fluid Samba practiced here. The thing I was most enraptured with is the Samba drums. They belt out a mesmerizing beat that is hypnotic. It is no wonder that the people in Rio love the Samba so much. It is the trance inducing background beat to the life here. The venue we went to was kind of like a place where you would go in the States to see a live band. Up on stage they had all the Samba drummers that were pushing out a driving beat. All around the dance floor they had stages where the Samba queens were dancing in costume. I say costume, but in effect they were actually wearing not much more than bikinis made of a few strategically placed feathers. It was quite a party. I was very impressed with the culture. It was quite something to hear 1,000 people singing along with the band to local Samba songs.

The next day, Sunday, started off a little more casual. My friend Jason and I went a watched a beach volleyball match. Any of the players could have been successful on a professional team. The skill was amazing, but tempered by the fact that I had seen fute-volley the day before. I have to explain fute-volley because there is nothing like it in the US. Fute-volley is the melding of beach volleyball with the Brazilian passion for soccer. Essentially two-man teams play volleyball without using their hands. They volley the ball back and forth using only feet and shoulders and the occasional head-butt. The skill involved with this is absolutely amazing. After watching volleyball for a while we went to a "bloco", which is Brazilian for a block party. Trucks with dancers, drummers and speakers belting out Samba music drive through the streets dragging with them a crowd of partiers, street vendors and the crowds. It is flat awesome, I have never seen anything like it. The entire party is encouraged by street vendors that are constantly pushing a menu of fried food and 40oz beers that cost all of 70 cents. Hard to resist, believe me.

After the bloco finished we went to a soccer game. I can't even explain how important soccer is to this town. Everybody, and I mean everybody, aligns themselves with one of the 4 soccer team in town. This time we went with some Flamengo fans to the Macarana. This is the city of Rio's soccer stadium which is still the 2nd largest in the world. Even though the soccer match was against a lesser known team from out of town, there were at least 80,000 people there. As you would expect, it was very different from an American sporting event. Soccer fans align with a team and also align with a cheering section. There was an entire section called "Flamengo Youth", a section called "The Black and Red Race" and so on. They bring drums to the game and the entire match is played to the background of gigantic waving flags and Samba drums. Amazing. Completely amazing. Afterwords we retired back to Ipanema to our hotel and went to a restaurant called "Garaota de Ipanema" which is a legend down here. Those of you who know how the whole Bossa Nova music scene got started, surely know of the "Girl from Ipanema" that this restaurant was named after. When we arrived, we saw the remains of another "bloco". The entire intersection was choked with partiers and vendors. Interestingly, there was a line to get into the restaurant. However, because my friend was wearing a Flamengo soccer shirt he was given front of the line privileges and we walked straight in without waiting. Sometimes it pays to wear your affiliation on your sleeve. It capped off a perfect evening. Again, I was amazed at how lucky I am that the Marine Corps is paying me to do this.

Of course, the party culture has a down side. I was expecting to sign a lease on my apartment Monday. For some Brazilian reason that I don't understand this as been pushed back yet again. We are down to the wire now. My friends and I do not have reservations at the hotel past Monday. If I can't get into our apartment on Tuesday morning we are going to be sleeping on somebody's floor or at a hotel in some other city. It is not a good position to be in but we really don't have much of a choice. Cross your fingers for us.

Ryan

Rain and Redtape in Brazil

Friends and family,

Today is the 22nd…..I think. Since Christmas, I haven't really been at work and therefore I have lost all sense about which days are weekends and which are workdays. In many days this is like an opposite universe from my last duty station in Yuma where we worked so many long hard days and completely through so many weekends that I also lost track of which day it was. I guess it is better to have the problem of no work to go to than too much work. Unfortunately, my Catholic guilt rides me a little and in a sick way I sometimes wish I was back in the squadron doing hard stuff. Today our sponsor picked up myself and my Navy friend Chris to get honorary memberships to the Naval Club. This club is on the inland lake of Rio. It is a very nice area, with two pools, a restaurant, hotel and cinema that are for the members and family of the Brazilian Navy. It is in a pretty swank area. The Brazilian Navy retains a nature like most old world navies. Its members consider themselves aristocrats on par with upper politicians and the wealthy. This is the vestige of the colonial navy brought here by both Portugal and Spain. The US Navy, in contrast, once was like this a hundred years ago but has since moved on into more of a business-like goal oriented organization. Regardless, it is very competitive to get into the Navy here and it is considered a very good job.

The Naval Club here is right next to the Flamengo Sports Club and numerous other so-called "high class" institutions. In any case, we didn't get our memberships because we were told that we have to go to the Naval Club downtown to have our IDs made. Even though they make membership IDs here, if you are only an honorary member you have to go to the other place. This type of red tape is becoming part of our daily life. Nobody here can make a decision, correct inefficiencies or get something done. Its one of the frustrating parts of life here in Brazil. Tomorrow we will try again. Chris and I are hoping that we get our membership soon before the weekend. On Saturday, the Naval Club is hosting a Samba dance exposition by Beija-Flora (flower-kiss). It should be a really neat evening of live Samba music and dancing by a local Samba school in preparation for Carnaval. As far as Carnaval preparations, we are about a week out from the world's biggest party. The city is noticeably getting more populated with tourists. Unfortunately, most seem to be international playboys so far.

We have noticed that the restaurants automatically give us English menus and try to speak English to us. For our part, we refuse to speak English to the waiters. Interestingly, at some of the places that cater to the international crowd, despite our best efforts they always answer us in English. Is our Portuguese that bad? I look at each day as an opportunity to try to speak and understand Portuguese. My restaurant and hotel Portuguese is doing fine, I understand most things. But whenever our Brazilian Navy sponsor picks takes us somewhere, it is like I never studied a thing. He speaks very quickly, and as an extremely nasal pronunciation in a low voice. I catch maybe one in 4 words. I can still usually figure out what he is getting at by the second time he rephrases it. Today we tried to see a movie but missed the start time. All the movies down here, for the most part are US Hollywood productions. They usually have different titles that fit better with the local culture. I am not sure if the movies were going to be dubbed or subtitled in Portuguese, but I am sure it would have been an experience anyway. I'll let you know how that goes.

For the last three days it has been raining all day. It is the monsoon season down here. For a good chunk of January and part of February it rains quite a bit. Sometimes the day starts clear, blue, and hot and then in the afternoon a windstorm blows in off the coast while clouds form over the mountains. When this type of rain comes, it comes in force, with strong winds and lightening; a true tropical storm. Despite the obvious signs of a squall, the beach goers and vendors hang onto the beach until the last moment. The results are often comical with hundreds of people desperately clinging to beach towels and umbrellas that are trying to take off like kites. Other times it comes as a soft Oregon/Ireland type rain that is already going before you wake up and continues all day. On these days the beach is completely deserted. Typically the beach is full of sunbathers and vendors. All along the boardwalk there are established vendor stands that sell beer, fresh juice, and coconut milk. They have piles of coconuts that and at a moments notice they cut the top off of and stick a straw in for you to sip. I haven't tried it yet but I will soon. The pure uniqueness of it is drawing me like a magnet. On the beach itself, every 50 feet are "borrachas" little stalls that rent umbrellas and chairs for a few dollars. You don't need to bring anything to the beach here. You can show up and one of the borrachas will take care of you, get you set up and make sure you have all the beer and juice you could possibly want. On days when the rain establishes itself early several things happen. They city cleans itself and all the dirt and trash are washed down the mountains, out of the streets and pushed out into the ocean where the strong undertow takes it out to sea. The undertow here is fierce, but is probably single-handedly responsible for keeping the beach water from being a trash infested mess. Sometimes when it rains hard, there are landslides that take out hundreds of peoples homes in the Favelas on the hill. They are shanty shacks that are built without regard for the Earth they are built on and the result is a predictable disaster. Finally, if it looks like rain all day, most of the borrachas don't show up. So much commerce happens on the beach, that I am sure a good hard rain for several days, puts several thousand people out of work.

I am expecting to sign a contract on Friday for an apartment. I have to come up with about $4000 US dollars to cover the first month. Hopefully, the government reimbursement hits soon or I am going to be existing solely on coconut milk and bread. Also, since the hotel is kicking us out for Carnaval, this loan signing is very important, as it will become the boarding house for me and two of the other Americans. All in all, I feel very happy with the housing situation. Coming down early is really paying off. I found a place, and my first house hold goods shipment is already in Sao Paulo. If my luck holds, the place will be completely set up by the time Kellee and Hannah show up. That is my primary goal down here, aside from becoming more fluent in Portuguese and getting the lay of the land.

Tchau for now
Ryan

Ryan in Brazil - Day 10

Friends and family,

I can't remember what day of the adventure I am on, but I think it must be around the 10th. I don't know because I stopped wearing a watch. I hate to admit this but the Marine Corps is finally paying me back for all the 16 hour days and 6 month deployments without weekends. I have definitely been getting better than I deserve and I feel a little bit guilty that the rest of my buddies are toiling away somewhere much less pleasant. That being said, every time that I return to the hotel from a day out in the town I feel exhausted. This is primarily because of the effort that my brain is expending consciously and subconsciously to comprehend the language and the culture. It's funny that it takes such a physical toll on a person. The humidity here also affects me too, especially since air conditioning is rarely used here. This is because the price of electricity is ridiculously high. Even the richest families here do not use a dryer.

My situation here is fortunate; 3 of my friends from my Portuguese class are all living in the same hotel with me. That gives me some companions to go out and explore the town with. One of my friends has been down here 3 months already. He also is fluent in Portuguese and dating a local girl. This has really helped the rest of us break into the culture a little more.

Last night my friend's girlfriend (Rosana) had a birthday party. He invited us all to go. We left the hotel and went to an area of the city that translates as "Botanical Garden". It's a very safe, secure, and pretty area of the city. If I had a car I would definitely consider living there. We met about 6 of her friends, mostly couples that she knew from work. They were all lawyers I found out. I also found out later that residents of Rio don't really appreciate talking about work when they are not at work. Chalk that up for cultural miss-step number one. I guess they don't really identify themselves through work like we tend to do. Anyway they were all very nice. After some initial conversational niceties, the conversation between the group split into English speakers and Portuguese speakers. For us non-speakers, we found that the velocity of words they were using was so high we couldn't understand much at all. Since we couldn't talk about work, I was sort of at a loss and quickly becoming a wall flower. Remembering something I had read about their culture I brought out the sure-fire conversation starter. I asked who they thought was the best soccer team in the city and why. The explosion of chatter was like pouring gasoline in the wood stove. While most couldn't agree whether the best team was Fluminense or Flamengo, all could agree that as along as you cheered for the team that beats Botafugo, then you are okay with them.

Later that evening, Rosana took us to a neat club up on a hill near her house. I don't really want to call it a night club or a bar. Really, it was most like a big backyard. There was a pool and several cabanas where they served drinks. Surrounding all this were beautiful big palm trees that had been brought in by the emperor of Brazil several 100 years ago. A live band played Samba music the whole night long. In between songs they would talk to the crowd. Some songs were old crowd favorites. I remember thinking that if you discarded the fact that you couldn't understand a word, it would remind you of any outdoor bar in the US. We all had a great time. It was probably the best and most immersed language practice I have ever had. I really felt like I benefited a lot from it. One of the best ways to get going in this language is to just jump in and start talking. It's hard to do that though if you worry too much about making mistakes. I found that a couple of ice cold Skol beers helped in this department very much.

One of my friends here is very nearly a professional dancer. He has been training most of his adult life as a hobby. He is also very shy and introverted. It was quite amusing to watch him throughout the night. Once the girls at the club found out that he could dance the samba and dance well, they were lined up to dance with him. It was a great experience for him also; I hope it breaks him out of his shell a little bit.

All in all, what started out as bad conversation ended up being a great immersion event. I made Rosana promise to take Kellee and I there again when she gets down to Brazil. She is going to love it.

I have a couple of goals to accomplish, while I am down here before the rest of the family shows up. The first is to complete my check-in with the consulate. The second is to finish my check-in with the Brazilian military, and the third is to find a place to live and get settled before Kellee arrives with the baby. Things are going well on all fronts. As much as I regret not having Kellee and Hannah down here right now, the logistics of trying to get all of these things done with a 6-month would be formidable. The thought of traveling on the buses or metro while trying to handle an exploding diaper still scares me. The traffic is extremely dangerous and at times I barely feel like I have enough eyes in my head.

On Sunday I went to the Hippie Market (yes that is what they call it). A local park turns into an open air market. About half of the stuff was homemade jewelry, clothes and purses. The other stuff was more interesting. I found several stands selling leather products. Although I never really thought I needed anything leather, I was really impressed with the stampings on some of the leather covered boxes and the art. There were large sheets of leather with sailing ships and maps of the world all stamped in fine detail. Knowing that the art of leather stamping for saddles in the US has almost died out, I was glad to see that it was alive and well down here. Of course it could all be stamped by a machine in China to be sold here and I would never know, but it was cheap enough that it didn't really matter. The center of the park displayed thousands of local paintings. All were beautiful; the style was simple and very colorful. One particular theme I saw a lot was paintings of the favelas (slums). From a distance they look like a patchwork quilt. Sickly ironic in some ways.

The other night I met some friends at a local bar; one of the other Navy guys, his girlfriend and some other locals. This, by far, was the most challenging language immersion event I have had so far. Even if they were speaking English, the bar was noisy enough and they were talking low enough that I would have struggled. So I REALLY struggled. But I managed to stay in the conversation, although they must have thought it was very painful as they had to repeat every question two or three times. One small victory was I noticed that when I was talking I must have been using enough words correctly that it made them think I understood better than I was really capable of. I knew this because they often asked me questions with blistering speed and using more complicated or local words. Several times I was caught not understanding a thing, until they slowed it down to the kindergarten level. Typically, even in the best of circumstances I am catching 1 in 5 words. I am using facial expressions, gestures, and context to put the rest together. However, I am a long ways yet from true conversation and I am certainly not catching the nuances, innuendo, idiomatic language, or jokes. But…on the bright side, occasionally I end up making an unintentional joke of my own by blundering through an attempt to say something else. Hey…as long as were all laughing, right?

Still without steady internet. I am only able to access email through the lobby of the hotel. Hoping to change all that when I move into an apartment.

Ryan

Ryan Arrives in Brazil - Jan 12, 2008

Friends and family,

My apologies if you are wondering where in the world I am writing this from. Just to update you, I am in Rio and getting acclimatized.

The last several weeks have been very busy and I know I lost touch with a lot of you. Since December 21st, I have been working like a dog to get our house in order for the big trip overseas. Starting in the middle of December, Kellee and I had the movers at the house for a week. We decided to rent a furnished place in Brazil. This meant that we needed to quickly decide which items in our house were going to go into storage and which would be sent to Brazil. I graduated from the language course in Monterey on the 21 st. I got decent grades despite struggling through the middle of the course with listening skills. Kellee said she wasn't surprised since I never listen at home either. The afternoon after graduation we finished cleaning the house and then I put Kellee and Hannah on the plane to Dallas to stay with her Mom. I got on the road with the remaining household items including the Bronco. I left at 1pm and got to my next destination of Fort Collins Colorado by 4pm the next day. The Bronco went into storage for a year with a friend, where she will remain until we return. I had to wash the road salt from the highway off of her, and unfortunately since it was below freezing, the Bronco is now a gigantic popsicle sitting in the shed there. That night I made it to the Kansas line and took a break for 6 hours for some needed rest. The next morning I drove all the way to Shreveport to spend Christmas with Kellee, Hannah and Kellee's mom. Yes it is possible to drive from the Pacific to Louisiana in two days but I don't recommend it.

Hannah's first Christmas was a good one, although she won't remember it. For those of you that have seen her, you wouldn't recognize her now. She is growing like a weed and changes every day. She recently discovered how to make the letter "M" sound, learned how to eat cereal and also how to throw a tantrum. All in all she is a very happy kid with lots of smiles and she sleeps through the night perfectly, which makes us happy.

On the 6th of January, I flew to Miami and checked in with my new headquarters. After three days of paperwork I left for Brazil. United Airlines made sure that I got my money's worth by first routing me to Dulles in DC for a 7 hour lay over to catch a redeye to Rio de Janeiro. Additionally, something happened on our landing that made the pilot go around for a second attempt. They said they had unexpected tailwinds, but considering that we landed the second time in the same direction……it doesn't really make sense. Regardless, I got a free aerial tour of the city. Rio is green and tropical surrounded by huge rock mountains that poke up out of nowhere. Very impressive, even the favelas (slums) look pretty from the air. On the ground I was immediately hit by the heat and the humidity. January and February are the height of the summer months here in Rio. Its not the worst heat I have ever felt but it is a big change from Monterey.

I was met at the airport by Lori, my re-locator realtor and by Marcelo Costa from the Brazilian Navy. Marcelo seemed like a nice guy and he gave me some notes about when and where to come to the school to get my Navy ID and to get in-processed. Interesting note, the weight standards appear to be similar to what US Navy Chiefs are allowed. It was very evident that Marcelo likes to drink beer. Lori was a surprise. I instantly recognized her but I couldn't place her. She is a former US Navy LT who took orders to Brazil and then got out at the end of her contract and stayed in Rio. We started comparing military histories and figured out that we both deployed together on the USS Peleliu in 2000. We knew a lot of the same people, and at the time she was dating one of the pilots in my squadron. In any case she is now a fluent Portuguese speaker and knows the city like the back of her hand. I can't explain what a godsend she is right now. Getting around this city is very difficult and you don't want to be on your own initially. Also, she is helping me cut through all the red tape with finding a house. Nothing appears to be easy here except going to the beach. Finding a house in a good area, that meets the security requirements, fits in the price range, and negotiating a contract is a real art . It is common for landlords to back out at the last minute. Everything is negotiable. Even worse, it all has to happen before or after Carnaval (where we got our Mardi Gras) evidently, nobody works for almost three weeks during that period. For this reason, I am down here by myself, while Kellee and Hannah are staying with Grandma in Shreveport. When I get the house stuff settled, I'll bring them down. It would be far too stressful on everybody, including Hannah to be living out of a hotel down here. Furthermore, I do not have a hotel reservation during Carnaval (the prices go through the roof). On Tuesday, I am moving in with 3 of my Portuguese class mates that are also looking for houses here. We are living in a temporary apartment that is being vacated by an older lady, probably about 60 years old. She already thinks of us as her grandchildren and she was going to make pizzas and leave them in the fridge for us. There was a lot of knicknacks to move in her house so I doubt that she will really be out by Tuesday, but that is the way it goes. Well that is enough for now. I probably lost most of you halfway through this long email, so I will sign off. Remember, if you think you might want to see Brazil, please come stay with us. We would love to have you.

Ryan

Kellee and Ryan's Webpage

Hello!

Welcome to our blog . . . you're also invited to take a look at our home page.
www.autonomyproductions.com/kellee