Sunday, November 29, 2015

Post Blog from Rio: U.S. Americans are Clumsy, But We Show Up on Time

The entire gondola full of tourists gasped as I carelessly fell into the gap between the door and the platform outside; this after repeated warnings in multiple languages to "mind the gap." I sustained minor scratches on my wrist, knee, and stomach, but my pride was most hurt. Especially when a big American jerk told me after I'd been fished out of the bottomless space to "Mind that gap." I was truly embarrassed, especially as we walked around on top of Sugarloaf mountain and people kept asking me if I was all right. Nice to know they care, I suppose.

Other than death defying accidents, it was a lovely visit to the world-famous symbol of Brazil, Sugarloaf mountain. The view of the city was fantastic, and you really get a sense of how absolutely huge metro Rio is. We were tagging along with our friends Chris and Cintia and many members of Cintia's Brazilian family. Without understanding their language, it was interesting to see a large family in action: teenaged boys giggling and pushing each other around; teen girls hanging close together, fashionable and self-conscious; organizing an unruly group of cousins, aunts, and uncles; smiling through the language barrier with Cintia's brother and niece, especially when asking us what kind of ice cream we wanted.

Spending time with Cintia's family also provided the opportunity to witness cultural differences. For example, dinner was planned for 7:00. The four U.S. Americans showed up at 6:55. The South Americans trickled in between 7:45 and 9:00. Whenever we met up with the family, we got there at the designated time and waited a half hour or longer for the locals to show. You just have to go with the flow. No one in Brazil really cares when dinner starts and it doesn't really matter when you think about it.

Clyde and I have enjoyed being here over the Thanksgiving break. Of course, here, Thanksgiving is just another day. We wouldn't even have thought of it except for an obnoxious U.S. American lady at the hotel who loudly wished everyone, Brazilians included, a happy Thanksgiving. Sometimes I'm tempted to tell people I'm from Canada.

Another mass shooting in Colorado was on the news here.

Watching the TV, I noticed the snow flurrying around a bundled up reporter. It's quite a bit warmer here: 30 degrees Celsius. The humidity is high and the city smells like people sweating. It's as if Colorado were a different world. And Denver feels much smaller by comparison.

We were not mugged or kidnapped, and in fact, judging from the TV, the United States is a much more violent place.

Rio's beaches are beautiful and the people are friendly - and very tolerant of visitors who don't speak Portuguese. Fortunately, Clyde speaks Portuguese and managed to communicate with waiters and taxi drivers.

All the same,we are ready to go home and see our cats and put up our Christmas tree. Clyde is already talking about our next trip, perhaps Nicaragua. I need to wait a couple of months. Actually I think our next trip might be to the large and independent nation of Texas to see his family.


Wednesday, November 25, 2015

New City, New Country, New Continent, New Hemisphere

On first impression, it's just like every other crowded, old coastal city. It has that humid, urban smell that New York gets in the heat of summer. There are people everywhere, with little retail establishments all crammed together on every block.

This is my first time to be south of the equator. It seems like it should feel different than it does. The water in our toilet doesn't go the other way around, it just goes straight down.

It does feel different being in South America. The birds are different. The trees are different. It's very green and lush.

And here we are in Rio de Janeiro. I'll bet there are few other places where extreme wealth and utter poverty coexist so visibly.

Clyde and I arrived in Brazil after an overnight flight from the U.S. The taxi ride to the J.W. Marriott was probably the most of the real city that we'll probably see. From the freeway, we saw slums (favelas) literally abutting luxury high rise apartments. Most of the apartment buildings that aren't slums still look a little run down. All residences, rich and poor, seem to have a satellite dish attached to the outside wall. There is graffiti everywhere.  The only perfectly pristine buildings are the churches.

Our hotel is just across the street from the beach. No favilas are visible from here. Our room overlooks the Atlantic Ocean, and of course, has every comfort. It's almost easy to forget the nearby poverty when you're on the roof, 17 stories up, looking down at the coastline and all the incredible green mountains that pop out of the ocean.

We took a walk down the street to take a look at the  90 year old Copacabana Palace. After just a couple of blocks, we were so soaked that we needed a shower. Some Coloradoans have trouble adjusting to high humidity.

Tomorrow we meet up with our friends.Greetings from Brazil!

By the way, this is my 200th BillsWeek post. Wow, I've had a lot to say!

Thursday, November 5, 2015

You Will Find Me on the Space-Time Continuum

I am writing curriculum which will be used by employees in India. It's a challenging project which, among other things, requires a degree of cultural sensitivity. The person I'm working with on this project is based in New Jersey. That is also a different culture.

Meanwhile, I have a weekly conference call with people in Melbourne (Australia), Montreal, and Boston. This call is scheduled for 8:00 a.m. Australian time (AU Eastern), which is 4:00 p.m. U.S. Eastern Time, and for me in the Rocky Mountain region, 2:00 p.m. Oh yes, in Australia, it's the next day. So my meeting is Thursday but the same meeting in Melbourne is on Friday. Just to keep it interesting, last week, while not fully paying attention to this world-wide conference call, I was texting Clyde who was in Tel Aviv, Israel.

It's hard to be centered when you have to spend your day zipping (virtually) around the world and back again. Keeping track of the time zones alone is dizzying.

Even when I don't leave metro Denver, I'm conscious of times and places which exist in exhausting 24 hour simultaneousness.

I doubt if even Albert Einstein could map my existence on the space-time continuum without really getting confused. Did he ever have a conference call with someone who is already living in tomorrow morning?

No wonder people feel lost these days.

I have coworkers in Tempe, Arizona. Twice a year, I have to change my clocks forward or backward for daylight savings time, while in Arizona, the time stays the same. For this reason, scheduling a phone meeting with someone in Arizona is extra tricky.

I can barely sleep at night knowing that my curriculum might be used on the other side of the world at that very minute.

If it can't be done on the phone, I can physically be almost anywhere on Earth in less than 24 hours.  As a matter of fact, Clyde and I will be visiting Rio de Janeiro, Brazil this month. It's quite a contrast from people who 300 years ago could easily go their whole lives without leaving a 10 mile radius of where they were born. You could send a letter to, say, India, but it would take months to get there.

Just to confuse things more, usually when I travel to another continent, like Europe or Asia, I have to adjust to opposing time zones. Day at home is usually night where I'm going and vice-versa. But going to Brazil doesn't present much more of a time change than travelling to the U.S. east coast. It's still confusing, however, because the seasons are opposite. While we're cooling down here, their summer is heating up. I may not have jet lag in Rio, but I won't know what month it is.

I know. This fits into the category of "first world problems." Everyone should have to suffer my trials.

It's really quite amazing when you think about it. Technology opens our world in many ways. What a remarkable time we live in. But I can't help but think that maybe 300 years ago, people slept a little better.