June 18, 2003
My living room, flood lights, coffee table, and weights.
Last night was so wild that I had to save my entry for this morning, but I'll explain that later. I'm writing from the embassy as the day slowly begins. Yesterday was action packed! First off, I'm happy to say that I finally completed my first small project, that of researching the senators that preside over the eight permanent committees in Brazil's senate. The best part about the whole thing is that the last senator that I researched turned out to be an evangelical/pop singer by trade. It was kind of like desert after researching the other senators who were trained as journalists, economists and lawyers.
The other treat of my day yesterday was a chance to use our direct line to DC to call an awesome associate at the Supreme Court. Everyone knows that the Department of State and the Supreme Court are pretty tight, and sometimes their interns and administrators have to talk about stuff like books, mutual friends, weather and so forth. I really felt like the call was bearing fruit when it was suddenly cut off. I figured, "no big deal, I'll just call back!" Two minutes into the resumed conversation, the call was cut again. That's when I started to sweat and decided not to call again. I suppose some people don't feel that the Supreme Court and State Department should be so tight, but whatever. I just hope that I'm not snatched out of bed and thrown into a rubber bag and/or trunk one of these nights.
Last week I wrote about a cultural head-butting match regarding the odd nasal Brazilian accent that I had with my Brazilian colleague, Alessandra. Well yesterday marked round two, however this debate was much more fun and enriching for all involved. It was about the Speedo. I am contemplating...no I have decided to take a water aerobics class offered at the embassy, and as we discussed the exciting prospects of me hopping into a pool with a group of bikini-clad Brazilians, the topic of speedo-clad men arose. Don't worry, pictures are sure to come.
Anyway, Alessandra was quick to point out the flagrant machismo behind the idea that men should wear shorts while women were encouraged to wear bikinis. Jeff (the new intern, not Geoff) explained that it had nothing to do with machismo, but that speedos merely looked 'gay.' To further his argument, both he and I tried to explain that the female figure is much more worthy of celebration/admiration than the male figure. Alessandra disagreed adamantly. We said that women have curves that men don't have. She said that men can have curves too. Jeff and I quickly pressed her on that point, and she realized that male curves were not as desirable as the female variety.
Then we tried to understand what she was really looking for. If she likes the male figure so much, why aren't shorts enough? Technically, men go topless all the time, we show just as much skin as women, and the only thing the speedo has to offer is a glimpse of upper-thigh and an enhanced ability to um...gauge the...um...you know, speedos don't leave much to the imagination. Anyway, Alessandra claimed that she wants more upper-thigh. I insisted, asking her if she wanted to see my upper thigh. She said yes. I know she has a boyfriend, but I was deeply flattered. That was the first time a girl had ever told me that she wanted to see my upper thigh, and I've decided to go buy a white speedo post-haste.
However, I'm afraid that my upper-thigh is not quite up to the standard that fitness model John Basedow has set and I'm still a little self-conscious. But whatever! I'm up for the challenge! In conclusion, viva el speedo!
I worked out when I got home using the weight pictured above, jogged down to the bridge, ate more Mexican leftovers, and read for a bit. At about 9:30 Geoff's sister Beth and Jeff (not Geoff) arrived to pick me up to go 'hang out.' We had all originally planned to watch a movie, but nobody could decide on a suitable venue and somehow about 9 or 10 kids ended up hanging out in front of Cool Kid Juan Carlos' house. Salsa blared from his car stereo and the chillens stood around putting their beers down and dabbling in a few other beverages while I had a Coke. Jeff (that's Jeff), and I marvelled at how old we felt. He and I are something like 6 years older than most of the kids there, but who cares? I had fun, we all danced a little, and I'm sure we'll continue to find older kids to join our little crew. Now if we can only make sure that they never decide to 'hang' at Friday's (daaaah!) again.
From there...yes, there's more. I was commissioned to drive across the bridge to pick up Ivan at a nearby golf course where he had spent a quiet evening trespassing and candlelight picnicking with his girlfriend. Brasília was designed for the car. The non-residential roads are wide and fast, with plenty of places to exit into neighborhoods or make U-turns. In fact, the original plan was to not have any stoplights. They haven't been able to stick to that standard entirely, but driving around here is pretty smooth sailing, especially at 11:30 on a Tuesday night. The only bummer is that they have pesky cameras that radar your car and send you a ticket if you're caught speeding, the bright side of that is a requirement that signs be posted announcing the cameras. I'm not really one to drive out of control fast, but having to brake for a camera every mile or so is an added element to the driving experience that I'm not accustomed to. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, it's just interesting.
music listened to while writing: Pinback's This is a Pinback CD