On Friday morning, the first day of June, when I woke up in Sao Paulo, Brazil, I was in desperate need of some clean clothes. It had gotten to the point where I pretty much had nothing to wear. The hostel had a washing machine and though it seemed a bit expensive (about $10 per load to wash it myself without the use of a dryer), I decided it was still preferable to lugging my laundry around trying to find a laundromat. It didn't help that I was in a suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of town. Unfortunately, just as I was going to put my wash in, the cleaning lady had started a cycle with a very small number of towels. This meant I had to wait another hour for her to finish. She tried to talk me into waiting until the next day since there was a party that night, but I was afraid the clothes wouldn't be dry on time with the damp and chilly weather. As it was, I had to book an extra night to make sure they'd be ready. Since I was washing pretty much everything in my bag, I was left wearing a black sweater and a pair of black capri pants that I guess I determined were still relatively clean. That's probably because I hadn't had a chance to wear them in South Africa or Argentina where the weather wasn't that warm. As it was, I was a bit underdressed, even for Brazil.
Finally by about mid-afternoon I was able to get my clothes into the washer and then I had to wait another hour for the cycle to finish before I could hang them on the rack. I contemplated taking a shower while I waited, but my towel was in the wash and I couldn't seem to get any hot water, though in retrospect I think that was because I was confusing the taps. I decided to just forget it and instead remain dirty and shrouded in black all day. By the time the laundry was finished, it was too late to go into town and besides I was dressed like a crazy person. It was drizzling a bit outside so I just walked about a block to a pub right out on the main street. The menu was only in Portuguese, but since written Portuguese is somewhat similar to Spanish, I could nearly figure out what was listed. However, after I put in my order, what the waitress came back with was not exactly what I had expected. I ended up getting a hamburger-like sandwich with a fried egg on top. Luckily, it was okay in spite being not quite what I'd pictured.
As I was finishing up my dinner, loud music suddenly started playing and an older Brazilian man grabbed a microphone to start singing. It was apparently time for karaoke. This same man sang three or four songs one after another until someone else finally got up to the mic. His voice was loud and booming, but honestly not very good. Most of the songs were in Portuguese, but one that I didn't recognize was in English. That was actually rather amusing, since it was quite clear that this man did not know how to speak the language. However, overall the loud, off-key music was really just annoying. After paying my bill, I knew it was time to go, but not before I half considered going up there to belt out a tune in front of a bunch of random strangers just to have a funny story. I ultimately decided against it because it seemed like there were a lot of people waiting in the wings and I couldn't stand to hang around listening any longer until my turn finally came up.
Unfortunately, my night didn't get any less annoying from there. Just as I got outside to head back to the hostel, it started to pour down rain. I didn't have an umbrella so I waited until it let up a tiny bit before deciding to make a run for it. I couldn't escape getting a little bit wet, which wasn't helped by my lack of any other dry clothes. Then when I got back to the dorm room, all the lights were off as my roommates were taking a nap. I didn't want to disturb them so I kept the light off and worked on my computer until I fell asleep myself. A few hours later, while I was still asleep, the group of the three or four guys and a girl suddenly turned on the light and started talking loudly in Portuguese right next to my bed while they got ready to go out. I didn't mind the light so much as the unnecessarily loud conversation, especially since I'd been so considerate to them all earlier.
The group finally left, but then the managers of the hostel started cranking music for the huge party they were hosting for all their friends that night. Hostel guests were invited, but since I was unshowered and had nothing to wear, I didn't have the motivation to go out and try to meet people who didn't even speak my language. I may as well have been out there, though, since it was so loud it felt like I practically was. I tried to go to sleep for a while, but it was completely impossible. They had a live band that didn't even START playing until almost 2:00am! I don't think the thing wrapped up almost 4:00am or 5:00am. I hate wearing earplugs because I find them so uncomfortable, but I finally put some in since it was the only thing that would slightly muffle the sound and let me get some rest. To say that I was LIVID that the owners of a hostel where people theoretically come to sleep would not allow me to do so, would be a complete understatement.
The next morning I slept in for a bit, then got up, showered and found some clothes that were relatively dry. From there I left the hostel and took the subway to the bus station in order to buy a ticket for Rio de Janeiro the next morning. I had tried to do it on-line, but wasn't able to book it without a Brazilian ID number. There was a company I'd found that I was planning to go with, but when I got to the station there were dozens of stalls for different companies and I couldn't even find one that listed Rio. I kept walking around until I finally saw "Rio de Janeiro" on one stall's sign. I bought a ticket from them by pointing at the screen to show which time I wanted (no one in Brazil speaks English.) Then as I turned around to leave, I saw the booth for the company I'd been looking for all along. By that time, it was too late to change my ticket, so I just hoped the one I had would be fine. Before I left the station, I stopped to grab some food and once again screwed up my order. I asked for a coxinha, which I thought was a cheese croquette, but turned out instead to be stuffed with chicken. That's how I learned that frango means chicken and queijo (which admittedly is close to the Spanish word, queso) means cheese in Portuguese.
From the station, I took the subway to Sé, on the recommendation of one of the hostel workers. The Praça (or Plaza) da Sé is where the Catedral da Sé as well many court and government buildings are located. It's also the starting point for all street numbers in the city. I went inside the Neo-Gothic Catholic church where there was a mass going on since it was Saturday afternoon. I walked around for a bit, but the crypt was closed so there wasn't much to see. I went back out through the plaza, which sadly seemed to be a meeting point not just for the city streets, but also for its homeless population. At the end of the plaza was the Caixa Cultural or Cultural Center, which had free admission. I went in to look at the various art exhibitions on display, but my favorite was the one done by a graphic artist who used various repetitive shapes and patterns to create what amounted to one-dimensional obstacle illusions. There was also a cool display of various photographs from outer space taken by the Hubble telescope.
After leaving the cultural center I walked toward the Pateo de Collegio where the whole plaza was blocked off for what appeared to be a car commercial shoot. A lot of spectators were gathered around out of curiosity and I joined them along the barrier fence. Unfortunately, the crew started resetting the scene shortly after I arrived so I decided to move on. I walked over to Sao Bento where there is another plaza with a basilica and school. I then crossed over a footbridge and tried to figure out how to get down to the lower level where I had seen a market street I wanted to check out. Once I got down there, I couldn't figure out how to get to the street I wanted. It felt like I was in a weird area so I decided to instead go back up toward Sé to try to get some food. Along the way, I was so thirsty that I stopped at a snack shop to chug down some freshly-squeezed orange juice. From there I just wanted to find a grocery store where I could get something small to bring back with me to the hostel.
As I walked along a nice pedestrian street, there was a restaurant that appealed to me and I nearly stopped. Then I noticed that even though there were still people eating, the sign on the menu said "closed." I kept walking and found a commercial strip with lots of stores and some bars, but all the stores were closing and none even seemed to sell groceries. I finally gave up and decided to just go back toward my hostel. Once there, I asked the guy at reception if he had any take-out suggestions. He recommended a pizza place not too far down the road. I quickly found the place and was able to order a small pizza, which I planned to take with me to go. As I was returning to the hostel, however, I started to feel really nauseous. I have no idea what came over me, but once I got back I had to force myself to eat a slice or two before finally giving up. I put the rest of the pizza in the fridge and figured I would take it with me in the morning. I was feeling so sick that I decided to go right to bed. Unfortunately, I had to deal with my obnoxious roommates who appeared to be getting ready to go out to a "white party" that night (who are they, P. Diddy?!?) They finally left and I was able get to sleep. I barely even batted an eyelash when they returned later that night.
On Sunday morning, I was fortunately feeling a bit better, though I still had no desire to eat my pizza. Since I also had no way to heat it up for lunch once I had boarded the bus (I don't love cold pizza) I just left it in the fridge to either be eaten by someone else or get moldy. As I was packing up my clothes, which for the most part had finally dried, I noticed that some of them were all covered in dirt. The workers had moved the drying racks for the party so I assume a few things had fallen on the ground and been trampled before being thrown back on the rack. I was really pissed that I had spent so much money for laundry that I had to do myself and then still had dirty clothes because of that stupid party! I went to talk to the receptionist to tell him I wanted a discount. He said he couldn't do that, but would let me rewash the dirty items.
"Uh, no," I responded. "I'm leaving right now and besides the clothes already took two days to dry as it is."
In the end he finally gave me around a 25% discount on the laundry (not much, but at least something) and I checked before heading to the bus station. After all those debacles, I was certainly in no rush to stay at that place again any time soon. I took the subway to the station and then braced myself for the six-hour trip to Rio de Janeiro.
I'll post photos in the morning.
Finally by about mid-afternoon I was able to get my clothes into the washer and then I had to wait another hour for the cycle to finish before I could hang them on the rack. I contemplated taking a shower while I waited, but my towel was in the wash and I couldn't seem to get any hot water, though in retrospect I think that was because I was confusing the taps. I decided to just forget it and instead remain dirty and shrouded in black all day. By the time the laundry was finished, it was too late to go into town and besides I was dressed like a crazy person. It was drizzling a bit outside so I just walked about a block to a pub right out on the main street. The menu was only in Portuguese, but since written Portuguese is somewhat similar to Spanish, I could nearly figure out what was listed. However, after I put in my order, what the waitress came back with was not exactly what I had expected. I ended up getting a hamburger-like sandwich with a fried egg on top. Luckily, it was okay in spite being not quite what I'd pictured.
As I was finishing up my dinner, loud music suddenly started playing and an older Brazilian man grabbed a microphone to start singing. It was apparently time for karaoke. This same man sang three or four songs one after another until someone else finally got up to the mic. His voice was loud and booming, but honestly not very good. Most of the songs were in Portuguese, but one that I didn't recognize was in English. That was actually rather amusing, since it was quite clear that this man did not know how to speak the language. However, overall the loud, off-key music was really just annoying. After paying my bill, I knew it was time to go, but not before I half considered going up there to belt out a tune in front of a bunch of random strangers just to have a funny story. I ultimately decided against it because it seemed like there were a lot of people waiting in the wings and I couldn't stand to hang around listening any longer until my turn finally came up.
Unfortunately, my night didn't get any less annoying from there. Just as I got outside to head back to the hostel, it started to pour down rain. I didn't have an umbrella so I waited until it let up a tiny bit before deciding to make a run for it. I couldn't escape getting a little bit wet, which wasn't helped by my lack of any other dry clothes. Then when I got back to the dorm room, all the lights were off as my roommates were taking a nap. I didn't want to disturb them so I kept the light off and worked on my computer until I fell asleep myself. A few hours later, while I was still asleep, the group of the three or four guys and a girl suddenly turned on the light and started talking loudly in Portuguese right next to my bed while they got ready to go out. I didn't mind the light so much as the unnecessarily loud conversation, especially since I'd been so considerate to them all earlier.
The group finally left, but then the managers of the hostel started cranking music for the huge party they were hosting for all their friends that night. Hostel guests were invited, but since I was unshowered and had nothing to wear, I didn't have the motivation to go out and try to meet people who didn't even speak my language. I may as well have been out there, though, since it was so loud it felt like I practically was. I tried to go to sleep for a while, but it was completely impossible. They had a live band that didn't even START playing until almost 2:00am! I don't think the thing wrapped up almost 4:00am or 5:00am. I hate wearing earplugs because I find them so uncomfortable, but I finally put some in since it was the only thing that would slightly muffle the sound and let me get some rest. To say that I was LIVID that the owners of a hostel where people theoretically come to sleep would not allow me to do so, would be a complete understatement.
The next morning I slept in for a bit, then got up, showered and found some clothes that were relatively dry. From there I left the hostel and took the subway to the bus station in order to buy a ticket for Rio de Janeiro the next morning. I had tried to do it on-line, but wasn't able to book it without a Brazilian ID number. There was a company I'd found that I was planning to go with, but when I got to the station there were dozens of stalls for different companies and I couldn't even find one that listed Rio. I kept walking around until I finally saw "Rio de Janeiro" on one stall's sign. I bought a ticket from them by pointing at the screen to show which time I wanted (no one in Brazil speaks English.) Then as I turned around to leave, I saw the booth for the company I'd been looking for all along. By that time, it was too late to change my ticket, so I just hoped the one I had would be fine. Before I left the station, I stopped to grab some food and once again screwed up my order. I asked for a coxinha, which I thought was a cheese croquette, but turned out instead to be stuffed with chicken. That's how I learned that frango means chicken and queijo (which admittedly is close to the Spanish word, queso) means cheese in Portuguese.
From the station, I took the subway to Sé, on the recommendation of one of the hostel workers. The Praça (or Plaza) da Sé is where the Catedral da Sé as well many court and government buildings are located. It's also the starting point for all street numbers in the city. I went inside the Neo-Gothic Catholic church where there was a mass going on since it was Saturday afternoon. I walked around for a bit, but the crypt was closed so there wasn't much to see. I went back out through the plaza, which sadly seemed to be a meeting point not just for the city streets, but also for its homeless population. At the end of the plaza was the Caixa Cultural or Cultural Center, which had free admission. I went in to look at the various art exhibitions on display, but my favorite was the one done by a graphic artist who used various repetitive shapes and patterns to create what amounted to one-dimensional obstacle illusions. There was also a cool display of various photographs from outer space taken by the Hubble telescope.
After leaving the cultural center I walked toward the Pateo de Collegio where the whole plaza was blocked off for what appeared to be a car commercial shoot. A lot of spectators were gathered around out of curiosity and I joined them along the barrier fence. Unfortunately, the crew started resetting the scene shortly after I arrived so I decided to move on. I walked over to Sao Bento where there is another plaza with a basilica and school. I then crossed over a footbridge and tried to figure out how to get down to the lower level where I had seen a market street I wanted to check out. Once I got down there, I couldn't figure out how to get to the street I wanted. It felt like I was in a weird area so I decided to instead go back up toward Sé to try to get some food. Along the way, I was so thirsty that I stopped at a snack shop to chug down some freshly-squeezed orange juice. From there I just wanted to find a grocery store where I could get something small to bring back with me to the hostel.
As I walked along a nice pedestrian street, there was a restaurant that appealed to me and I nearly stopped. Then I noticed that even though there were still people eating, the sign on the menu said "closed." I kept walking and found a commercial strip with lots of stores and some bars, but all the stores were closing and none even seemed to sell groceries. I finally gave up and decided to just go back toward my hostel. Once there, I asked the guy at reception if he had any take-out suggestions. He recommended a pizza place not too far down the road. I quickly found the place and was able to order a small pizza, which I planned to take with me to go. As I was returning to the hostel, however, I started to feel really nauseous. I have no idea what came over me, but once I got back I had to force myself to eat a slice or two before finally giving up. I put the rest of the pizza in the fridge and figured I would take it with me in the morning. I was feeling so sick that I decided to go right to bed. Unfortunately, I had to deal with my obnoxious roommates who appeared to be getting ready to go out to a "white party" that night (who are they, P. Diddy?!?) They finally left and I was able get to sleep. I barely even batted an eyelash when they returned later that night.
On Sunday morning, I was fortunately feeling a bit better, though I still had no desire to eat my pizza. Since I also had no way to heat it up for lunch once I had boarded the bus (I don't love cold pizza) I just left it in the fridge to either be eaten by someone else or get moldy. As I was packing up my clothes, which for the most part had finally dried, I noticed that some of them were all covered in dirt. The workers had moved the drying racks for the party so I assume a few things had fallen on the ground and been trampled before being thrown back on the rack. I was really pissed that I had spent so much money for laundry that I had to do myself and then still had dirty clothes because of that stupid party! I went to talk to the receptionist to tell him I wanted a discount. He said he couldn't do that, but would let me rewash the dirty items.
"Uh, no," I responded. "I'm leaving right now and besides the clothes already took two days to dry as it is."
In the end he finally gave me around a 25% discount on the laundry (not much, but at least something) and I checked before heading to the bus station. After all those debacles, I was certainly in no rush to stay at that place again any time soon. I took the subway to the station and then braced myself for the six-hour trip to Rio de Janeiro.
I'll post photos in the morning.
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