This week we got a new Portuguese teacher, which I was quite happy about (normal teacher rotation). Our original teacher Adonis spoke excellent English. He studied English Literature at University, spent time in the States, etc. It was useful at the beginning when he was explaining grammar and stuff to us, but towards the end it was a bit annoying because he liked to talk (a lot) and he would often go off into an explanation or story about something to do with Brazil in English which was very interesting but not particularly useful for our oral Portuguese comprehension skills.
This week, our new teacher was Clarissa. She speaks next to no English. This was a little challenging at first, but it's helping me understand spoken Portuguese a hell of a lot better. It's still difficult if she's teaching a new grammar rule or a new piece of vocabulary, because some things can't be explained easily - but then again, that's what dictionaries are for.
The other two English students in the class (my mother and another lady from Cambridge) are having more difficulty keeping up than the rest of us. My mother complained that it was a big jump from someone who speaks excellent English to someone who speaks none.
However, as the rest of the students (all non-native English speakers) in the class pointed out, this is the way they learned English. They didn't even have the first two weeks of someone speaking in their language to ease them in - they were straight in at the deep end. This is how English is taught to foreigners when they come to English-speaking countries. Basically, "we can't be bothered to speak your language, and if you want to learn ours, you're gonna have to do it the hard way".
Sounds harsh, but this approach works. All the non-native English speakers in the school who have learnt English in an English-speaking country speak/read/write it quite well, because they had to. They had to for economic reasons, they had to because their English teacher wouldn't cut them a break, and now they're learning another language.
I'm personally inclined not to complain. And besides, the tough approach is doing me the world of good.
Saturday, 26 November 2011
Monday, 21 November 2011
Nightlife #1
This is probably the first of quite a few posts on my experience of nightlife here. I like going out. In London I was more specifically interested in EDM (electronic dance music) and gay clubs (which mostly play either pop or house music - my preference being the latter). However, I am interested in most genres of music. London just has a particularly good dance scene.
On Saturday night I went out for a birthday get-together thingy for our host Fernando's boyfriend. We went to a place in Jardim Paulista called 'DJ Club Bar'. As a native English speaker from England, I found the name of the bar highly misleading. The words 'DJ' and 'Club' usually denote some form of danceable music of which there was none. Well, not what I was expecting anyway.
The ground floor (there were three floors in total) consisted of a few seats and some retro arcade games: Virtua Street Fighter, another game like VSF, and two proper old-fashioned pinball machines. Fernando is a massive gamer, so we played video games while we were waiting for the club room downstairs to open up. Upstairs was a slightly quieter bar, but nothing particularly interesting.
We went downstairs into the club room about 1am when it opened. The music was British and American indie/rock. Most of the songs were instantly recognisable to me and I spent the whole night singing the lyrics to practically every track played. I heard: Metallica, Guns 'N' Roses, The Cure, The Smiths, Morrissey, Talking Heads, Simple Minds, Kings Of Leon, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Florence + The Machine, amongst many others. After a very strong caipirinha, I got over the initial weirdness of dancing to late-80's indie and got 'on down' as Fernando kept saying. The dance floor was rammed. The atmosphere was great. Everyone knew the lyrics to all the songs despite the fact that most of them had great difficulty in stringing together a sentence in English.
I ended up getting pretty drunk (bebedo - I'm not going to forget that word quickly) after forcing myself to finish a second caipirinha and I had to escape to the ground floor pinball room to get some air before I passed out. The whole group came to find me about 5 minutes later which I felt very guilty about. After it was clear I was having issues standing up straight, we went home, played Just Dance 3 on the wii for about half an hour before I retreated to my bed about 5am to pass out. Everyone else carried on without me in the living room.
Maybe next time I'll stick to one caipirinha and a beer (gnat's piss), if I feel like having a second drink.
On Saturday night I went out for a birthday get-together thingy for our host Fernando's boyfriend. We went to a place in Jardim Paulista called 'DJ Club Bar'. As a native English speaker from England, I found the name of the bar highly misleading. The words 'DJ' and 'Club' usually denote some form of danceable music of which there was none. Well, not what I was expecting anyway.
The ground floor (there were three floors in total) consisted of a few seats and some retro arcade games: Virtua Street Fighter, another game like VSF, and two proper old-fashioned pinball machines. Fernando is a massive gamer, so we played video games while we were waiting for the club room downstairs to open up. Upstairs was a slightly quieter bar, but nothing particularly interesting.
We went downstairs into the club room about 1am when it opened. The music was British and American indie/rock. Most of the songs were instantly recognisable to me and I spent the whole night singing the lyrics to practically every track played. I heard: Metallica, Guns 'N' Roses, The Cure, The Smiths, Morrissey, Talking Heads, Simple Minds, Kings Of Leon, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Florence + The Machine, amongst many others. After a very strong caipirinha, I got over the initial weirdness of dancing to late-80's indie and got 'on down' as Fernando kept saying. The dance floor was rammed. The atmosphere was great. Everyone knew the lyrics to all the songs despite the fact that most of them had great difficulty in stringing together a sentence in English.
I ended up getting pretty drunk (bebedo - I'm not going to forget that word quickly) after forcing myself to finish a second caipirinha and I had to escape to the ground floor pinball room to get some air before I passed out. The whole group came to find me about 5 minutes later which I felt very guilty about. After it was clear I was having issues standing up straight, we went home, played Just Dance 3 on the wii for about half an hour before I retreated to my bed about 5am to pass out. Everyone else carried on without me in the living room.
Maybe next time I'll stick to one caipirinha and a beer (gnat's piss), if I feel like having a second drink.
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
Iguatemi Sao Paulo
We came across the Iguatemi SP mall completely by chance yesterday after an unsuccessful attempt at getting into Hebraica (come on, who carries their passport with them at all times anyway...).
The nearest metro station definitely isn't within a comfortable walking distance. This is deliberate: the mall was constructed before the metro system was (1966 & 1972, respectively). Something to do with 'keeping away undesirables', or more to the point: poor people. Brazil has a lot of those.
The very first thing I noticed about Iguatemi SP, was that there was a valet service for customers to drop off their cars. A valet service. Secondly, I immediately felt under-dressed the second I stepped foot in there. No one was wearing trainers, converse or anything of the type. There weren't many people wearing jeans either.
It was relatively empty when we walked in, just a few well-dressed people milling around with very well-behaved children. As we ambled along the white marble corridors past the overpriced shops I thought "this is a nice mall". Then I saw the Christmas display.
Just to give you and idea of scale: those figurines are people-sized. And the train is pretty much to scale. Yeah, I know. And that ain't all. It carried on up the stairs, along the wall:
It was the largest and most overwhelming Christmas display I've seen anywhere - and I've been around. It filled the entire central hall from ceiling to floor - there were six animatronic reindeer attached to a sleigh suspended from the ceiling.
We decided to see if there was a food hall so we could get a coffee. The signs were all written in both Portuguese and English, so it didn't take us long to find it. This is what we found:
Ok, now I've been to some really nice malls... I had a couple of holidays in Palm Beach with my ex-step-dad's millionaire parents, went to a millionaire's golf club, visited some seriously impressive 'rich people only' malls and I have NEVER in ALL MY LIFE seen a food court as opulent as this one. It really took your breath away. On top of which, each restaurant/cafe had an equally beautiful but completely individual design of it's own - even the McDonald's. It was just as well there was a McDonald's because we were totally out-priced by everything else on offer.
This is one of the cafes - notice the chandelier. Again, this picture doesn't really do the place justice:
The opulence carried on in the bathrooms. The floors, walls, and sinks were made of red and white marble - the floor was like a chess board. The fixtures and fittings - including the hand drier - were made of solid, highly polished brass. There was a member of staff in a maid's uniform standing by the basins ready to assist at all times.
My mother was on cloud nine the whole time we were there, she didn't want to leave - that place is basically her idea of heaven. I, however, felt... well, a little uncomfortable. I always feel a little uncomfortable in places where there are a lot of rich people. It's not that I have a problem with rich people: I have known plenty and some of them have been lovely and some of them have been total assholes - the same as the rest of us. Politically I'd probably be slightly left-of-centre, so I don't hate rich people or 'the establishment' per se, but I do think certain things rich people do/buy/have are a bit over the top.
Iguatemi was over the top. It was a bit much. In fact, it was bordering on insensitive. The only black people I saw in the mall were staff - and by 'black' I am also including what we in the UK would term 'mixed race'. I come from a city where it's not unheard of to see black/mixed race people actually buying stuff in expensive stores in expensive areas with their own money. I didn't see a single one - not even at lunch time when the mall packed out.
The prices were shocking. Prices for a lot of things in Brazil are higher than we're used to in the US/Europe because they have to import a lot of 'luxury' items in. However, I saw a pair of Prada sunglasses for R$1800 - that, translated into GBP is approximately £700. I saw the same pair of Prada sunglasses in Selfridges recently and they cost HALF of that... and Selfridges ain't cheap. You get my drift.
Considering just down the road there were a bunch of homeless living in squalor in cardboard boxes during a torrential downpour, and a little bit further down there were thousands upon thousands living in makeshift shanty towns, it was downright outrageous.
Our host Fernando told me about another mall in Sao Paulo, a bit further out, that is only accessible by car - you can't walk into it like you can at Iguatemi. Parking your car at this mall in order to shop there isn't free, either: it costs around R$80 (£32). As you can imagine, this mall is frequented mostly by the super-rich. In Brazil, you don't ever see these people. They live in large mansions with high security, they only travel by car, they don't go out in public, they have their own private clubs, they go to each other's houses. They are nowhere to be seen. They are entirely separated from the rest of Brazilian society. This is the reason I felt so at odds in Iguatemi: it was merely a small indication of the vast gap between the rich and the poor in Brazil. The rich here are REALLY rich and the poor here are REALLY poor, and that just doesn't sit well with me.
On the plus side, I can confirm that I have a fully functioning conscience.
The nearest metro station definitely isn't within a comfortable walking distance. This is deliberate: the mall was constructed before the metro system was (1966 & 1972, respectively). Something to do with 'keeping away undesirables', or more to the point: poor people. Brazil has a lot of those.
The very first thing I noticed about Iguatemi SP, was that there was a valet service for customers to drop off their cars. A valet service. Secondly, I immediately felt under-dressed the second I stepped foot in there. No one was wearing trainers, converse or anything of the type. There weren't many people wearing jeans either.
It was relatively empty when we walked in, just a few well-dressed people milling around with very well-behaved children. As we ambled along the white marble corridors past the overpriced shops I thought "this is a nice mall". Then I saw the Christmas display.
Just to give you and idea of scale: those figurines are people-sized. And the train is pretty much to scale. Yeah, I know. And that ain't all. It carried on up the stairs, along the wall:
It was the largest and most overwhelming Christmas display I've seen anywhere - and I've been around. It filled the entire central hall from ceiling to floor - there were six animatronic reindeer attached to a sleigh suspended from the ceiling.
We decided to see if there was a food hall so we could get a coffee. The signs were all written in both Portuguese and English, so it didn't take us long to find it. This is what we found:
Ok, now I've been to some really nice malls... I had a couple of holidays in Palm Beach with my ex-step-dad's millionaire parents, went to a millionaire's golf club, visited some seriously impressive 'rich people only' malls and I have NEVER in ALL MY LIFE seen a food court as opulent as this one. It really took your breath away. On top of which, each restaurant/cafe had an equally beautiful but completely individual design of it's own - even the McDonald's. It was just as well there was a McDonald's because we were totally out-priced by everything else on offer.
This is one of the cafes - notice the chandelier. Again, this picture doesn't really do the place justice:
The opulence carried on in the bathrooms. The floors, walls, and sinks were made of red and white marble - the floor was like a chess board. The fixtures and fittings - including the hand drier - were made of solid, highly polished brass. There was a member of staff in a maid's uniform standing by the basins ready to assist at all times.
 |
| Check out the solid brass hand dryer on the wall on the right. |
My mother was on cloud nine the whole time we were there, she didn't want to leave - that place is basically her idea of heaven. I, however, felt... well, a little uncomfortable. I always feel a little uncomfortable in places where there are a lot of rich people. It's not that I have a problem with rich people: I have known plenty and some of them have been lovely and some of them have been total assholes - the same as the rest of us. Politically I'd probably be slightly left-of-centre, so I don't hate rich people or 'the establishment' per se, but I do think certain things rich people do/buy/have are a bit over the top.
Iguatemi was over the top. It was a bit much. In fact, it was bordering on insensitive. The only black people I saw in the mall were staff - and by 'black' I am also including what we in the UK would term 'mixed race'. I come from a city where it's not unheard of to see black/mixed race people actually buying stuff in expensive stores in expensive areas with their own money. I didn't see a single one - not even at lunch time when the mall packed out.
The prices were shocking. Prices for a lot of things in Brazil are higher than we're used to in the US/Europe because they have to import a lot of 'luxury' items in. However, I saw a pair of Prada sunglasses for R$1800 - that, translated into GBP is approximately £700. I saw the same pair of Prada sunglasses in Selfridges recently and they cost HALF of that... and Selfridges ain't cheap. You get my drift.
Considering just down the road there were a bunch of homeless living in squalor in cardboard boxes during a torrential downpour, and a little bit further down there were thousands upon thousands living in makeshift shanty towns, it was downright outrageous.
Our host Fernando told me about another mall in Sao Paulo, a bit further out, that is only accessible by car - you can't walk into it like you can at Iguatemi. Parking your car at this mall in order to shop there isn't free, either: it costs around R$80 (£32). As you can imagine, this mall is frequented mostly by the super-rich. In Brazil, you don't ever see these people. They live in large mansions with high security, they only travel by car, they don't go out in public, they have their own private clubs, they go to each other's houses. They are nowhere to be seen. They are entirely separated from the rest of Brazilian society. This is the reason I felt so at odds in Iguatemi: it was merely a small indication of the vast gap between the rich and the poor in Brazil. The rich here are REALLY rich and the poor here are REALLY poor, and that just doesn't sit well with me.
On the plus side, I can confirm that I have a fully functioning conscience.
Monday, 14 November 2011
The obese FINALLY get the recognition they deserve...
I was on the bus earlier. I saw this on the window and I had to take a picture:
I laughed. A lot. People were staring at me. My mother was staring at me. I found it very funny.
And before you start getting on your high horse: technically I'm obese.
 |
| Translation: "Reserved seating for the obese (YES, THE OBESE), pregnant women, women carrying babies/children, the elderly and the disabled." |
I laughed. A lot. People were staring at me. My mother was staring at me. I found it very funny.
And before you start getting on your high horse: technically I'm obese.
Sunday, 13 November 2011
The difference between English and Brazilian customer service
This is what happened in a pharmacy in London a couple of years ago when I was waiting in a queue:
A young Spanish-speaking woman was trying to buy something but didn't know the word for it in English and she was trying to work out the name by saying it slowly to the cashier, then using quite clear hand signals for body moisturiser. The cashier rolled her eyes, looked sarcastically at someone behind the spanish-speaking girl as if there was some private joke going on, didn't even attempt to understand or help the girl and said "Look, there's a queue, I have no idea what you're after - maybe get a dictionary or something, yeah?"
The cashier then motioned as if to go to the next customer, when I piped up: "Hold on a second, she's clearly after body moisturiser - see?" and I mirrored the spanish-speaking girl's hand movements.
"Well, why didn't she say?" the staff member replied in an insolent tone.
"Because she doesn't know the word in English, obviously - do you know the word for moisturiser in Spanish?" I replied, staring her right in the eye. Someone in the queue coughed. I turned around to look at them and they immediately looked in another direction.
"Well, if they're going to come here they should make an effort, innit...."
"...so I assume you brushed right up on your Spanish when you went on holiday to Tenerife or wherever it was you went last summer?" Someone in the queue giggled.
The spanish-speaking girl got her body moisturiser in the end, but the cashier gave me plenty of evils.
Similar situation in a Brazilian drogaria last week, involving a lady in my Portuguese class:
Again, the non-Portuguese speaker is at the front of a reasonable-sized queue.
"Bom dia, um...Eu gosto...uhhh....cream, for cuts?" (makes cutting movement on her arm)
"Eu nao entende...voce poderia repetir?" The cashier is genuinely interested in hearing what the English-speaking customer has to say, doesn't cut them off, waits patiently and makes a hand movement to repeat.
"Ummm....cream? antiseptic cream?" (more flailing hand movements)
The staff member looks puzzled for a couple of seconds, then brightens up.
"Creme anti-septico?"
"Ummm....possibly..." (N.B. the pronounciation of Portuguese is far more confusing to an English-speaker learning Portuguese than actually reading the words - just because you understand the words when read doesn't mean you'd be able to if they said it)
"Sim, temos." Staff member comes out from behind the cash desk, gets someone to replace them, personally takes English-speaking customer to where the antiseptic creams are, helps them pick one out, then escorts them back to the beginning of the queue to complete the purchase. No one in the queue is annoyed.
I think I've made my point clear.
A young Spanish-speaking woman was trying to buy something but didn't know the word for it in English and she was trying to work out the name by saying it slowly to the cashier, then using quite clear hand signals for body moisturiser. The cashier rolled her eyes, looked sarcastically at someone behind the spanish-speaking girl as if there was some private joke going on, didn't even attempt to understand or help the girl and said "Look, there's a queue, I have no idea what you're after - maybe get a dictionary or something, yeah?"
The cashier then motioned as if to go to the next customer, when I piped up: "Hold on a second, she's clearly after body moisturiser - see?" and I mirrored the spanish-speaking girl's hand movements.
"Well, why didn't she say?" the staff member replied in an insolent tone.
"Because she doesn't know the word in English, obviously - do you know the word for moisturiser in Spanish?" I replied, staring her right in the eye. Someone in the queue coughed. I turned around to look at them and they immediately looked in another direction.
"Well, if they're going to come here they should make an effort, innit...."
"...so I assume you brushed right up on your Spanish when you went on holiday to Tenerife or wherever it was you went last summer?" Someone in the queue giggled.
The spanish-speaking girl got her body moisturiser in the end, but the cashier gave me plenty of evils.
Similar situation in a Brazilian drogaria last week, involving a lady in my Portuguese class:
Again, the non-Portuguese speaker is at the front of a reasonable-sized queue.
"Bom dia, um...Eu gosto...uhhh....cream, for cuts?" (makes cutting movement on her arm)
"Eu nao entende...voce poderia repetir?" The cashier is genuinely interested in hearing what the English-speaking customer has to say, doesn't cut them off, waits patiently and makes a hand movement to repeat.
"Ummm....cream? antiseptic cream?" (more flailing hand movements)
The staff member looks puzzled for a couple of seconds, then brightens up.
"Creme anti-septico?"
"Ummm....possibly..." (N.B. the pronounciation of Portuguese is far more confusing to an English-speaker learning Portuguese than actually reading the words - just because you understand the words when read doesn't mean you'd be able to if they said it)
"Sim, temos." Staff member comes out from behind the cash desk, gets someone to replace them, personally takes English-speaking customer to where the antiseptic creams are, helps them pick one out, then escorts them back to the beginning of the queue to complete the purchase. No one in the queue is annoyed.
I think I've made my point clear.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)