night on the hill

The night is mild, and cool after a warm day. Below me the lights of São José twinkle in the valley and the stars come out over everything.

Today was a good day, and for the first time I felt like I wasn’t completely lost with the language. Not that I’ve received the gift of tongues or anything, but over the weekend I dived back into my Pimsleur audio course, began recording vocabulary words, scanned the conjugation book, and one of my coworkers talked with me over lunch this afternoon. In case you didn’t know, it’s far less intimidating to learn a language face to face with one person than to dive into a group of eagerly chattering people and make sure everyone knows how ignorant you are.

I went running this evening for the first time since I arrived. It was beautiful outside—the perfect temperature, a whole complex to explore, and a guarded gate to make sure I wasn’t interrupted in my little jaunt. Only later did I find out that the ubiquitous appearance of a motorcycle every few minutes was three, not one, and guards, not an intruder.  I even stumbled upon a random little park with several bars, two swings, and a zipline seat thing. The weight limit was in kgs, whose acquaintance I have yet to make, but since when does one not try out a zipline on discovery?

I couldn’t take my eyes off the skyline. One of the houses in the neighborhood is undergoing construction, so I walked up the cement ramp and tiptoed around in the rooms, hoping there wasn’t too much trouble to get into just around t corner. Most houses here are built of cement or stone, not wood, and this one, with a bare interior, was no exception. I walked through several doorways till I could look out over everything.

I’m not an exceptional fan of large cities, but there’s something different about countries like Brazil—more humanity, less utilitarian industrialization. I felt it this evening when I looked out of the office and saw the evening sun over the roofs of the houses and all the comings and goings of cars and people. It’s busy and crowded, but with the movement and noises of life. People drive less than politely, but they live effusively. They’ll cut you off on the road, but they’ll greet you with cheek touching cheek. I think there must be a part of Brazil that never leaves you once you come.