Water

The most constant piece of advice I heard before coming to Brazil was more of an ominous warning: Don't drink the water. As the story goes, my American tummy couldn't possibly handle the bacterias lurking in Brazilian agua. I read about it in books, which promised mucho diarrhea. I heard stories from other travelers, telling horrors of trips ruined by drinking a cola cooled with tanted ice cubes. Even my doctor warned me not to eat fruit, because it may have been washed with the wary waters.

So before coming here, I began to wonder how exactly I'd stay hydrated. I mean, beer can only go so far. Also, how would I make coffee or brush my teeth? Would my skin absorb this water in the shower? So many worries ... which (mostly) all proved to be unnecessary.

Once we were in Brazil, Ben and I got the real advise we needed: Just don't drink the tap water. Instead, every home has a water cooler (ours included) where we can get all the fresh water we need. Now that was refreshing. We wouldn't have to be the odd ducks who refused to drink what everyone else was. We could just grab a cup and have fresh, filtered water in our own kitchen.

As for other water encounters, we decided to just dive in. I took a risk and showered sans a water filter and brushed my teeth with tap water too. I mean, it's not like I swallow the toothpaste. We boiled water for our coffee. Eventually, we even went swimming in a pool. By the time I dried off, I was happy to realize my stomach handled it all just fine.

All was well for the first week. And then we ran out of our fresh water to drink. The huge jugs that had been stockpiled in the closet were gone. And to our dismay, we couldn't easily find any more at the grocery store. This was a problem. Sabrina, our Brazilian guide and guru, was gone for a few days, and we were thirsty. We had one smaller jug left in the fridge, which Ben and I rationed between us each meal. At night we drank beer (and sometimes for lunch too), but it just wasn't something we were ready to crack open each morning.

Finally, after we'd poured the last few drops, Sabrina got a hold of us and promised to order more. And the solution was so simple. Apparently all we have to do is call the doorman downstairs, who will deliver as many jugs as we need. Now we have plenty of fresh water. No dying for thirst (or helplessness) for us!

However, I did fall prey to some tainted water lurking elsewhere ... ice cubes. I guess those warnings were right. During our first night out in Rio, I ordered my first mixed drink, which of course came on the rocks. These rocks proved to be too much from my tummy to take. I won't get into details ... but I learned the hard way that freezing water does not kill bacteria :(

Arriving

My original name for this blog was "A Life Once Imagined," a title inspired by my favorite quote: "Live the life you imagine." And so far living here in Brazil has been exactly that. Ben and I are living an adventure we've dreamed of for at least a year -- one that's been stirring in our subconscious for much longer than that.

However, once we got here, I realized the real story was about us, the Americans, trying to make it in a country where we stand out so much. Not only because we're American, or because I'm blond, or because of the clothes we wear-- but because we're truly in a forgeign land. Not forgien like England or Australia or Canada. No. Here no one speaks English. At all. They don't have shops like they do in America, or drive in lanes like they do in America. They don't serve food like they do in America. Sure they have McDonald's here, but it cost about $30 US to eat one "value" meal. It's a big event here to go to "fast food," instead of the I'm-too-lazy-to-cook-tonight meal back home. And that's one stark difference between our McDonaldses ... a place that's supposed to be known for its consistency around the world. Not that I'm complaining. Instead we eat cheap coconuts on the beach. Instead we run to the little vendor on the corner. And when we ride the bus, it's more thrilling than a roller coaster ride. Everything is new to us. But that's what's making everything so exciting. I don't know about Ben, but it's just the adventure I was looking for.



We arrived t Rio safely after 24 hours of straight travel. Sabrina, our Brazilian hostess, was there to pick us up at the airport. She zipped us right over to Ipaitu, our new home, and our beautiful apartment. The entire place has white tiled floors and lots of windows that let in the ocean air. It smells of mildew -- not like an old towel, but like a place that's been weathered by the rain. I love it. Our room is modest, with a bed, dresser and attached bathroom. We were surprised to crawl into bed the first night and realize they don't use comforters, but only one sheet to stay warm. That's all you need in this humidity.

A view from our apartment

Itaipu is to Rio as the Valley is to LA. It's about an hour's drive away but still has the hustle bustle of the big metropolitan nearby. Part of me wishes we could be closer to Rio, but on the other hand it's nice to be away from the tourism and absorbed into this raw Brazilian culture. And we have the best beaches here! I've seen two of them so far, and both were just the paradise you'd imagine: palm trees, surrounding cliffs, white sand and cheap, cold beer. Just perfect. Oh, and the view of the people is pretty nice too. Everyone is beautiful, from the surfers to bartenders to the cable guy. Even the pigeons are glamorous and come in all white or white and brown speckles.


There's so much more to say I could type for hours. I'm going to try to get most of it recorded in here sometime down the line. Right now I'm still trying to make sense of everything myself. But all this new stuff, these unknowns, is what our adventure is all about.