Claire takes on the world….

My second (and last) day in Sao Paulo wasn’t quite as eventful as the first. My watch broke after a shower incident, turns out it’s not waterproof (sorry Mom!). Because of that I missed the free breakfast. I stayed in bed til as long as I possibly could. I eventually strolled out about 5 to 12, had to be out of there by midday. I wandered the streets for a while trying to find the buffet place I’d had lunch in the previous day. That place must have moved because it wasn’t where we left it. I found a nice little place on a corner and had a pizza cake type thing. I started to warm to Brazilian food just as I was leaving the place.
My luck with airports is still as bad as ever. Sao Paulo airport has to be one of the busiest yet under-equipped in the world. My terminal had hundreds and hundreds of people there, and only two scanners to check them through. I queued up at 5pm and finally got to the scanner at 6.15. I only went through early to take a nap at the other side. If I hadn’t I would have surely missed the plane. After the scanner I then took three steps of freedom before I had to join another queue. This time to get my exit stamp.
I’m not sure what to make of Sao Paulo. It’s a lovely city but didn’t knock me backwards or anything. It weirds me out a bit the way they’ve hidden the poverty. And the wealth there is just crazy. I was told it’s not really on ‘the backpacker trail’. If it was in Europe I think it would be. It has all the charm of a European city but doesn’t have the cheap prices and novelty activities people have come to expect from South American hang outs.
After a 5 hour flight to Lima I was reminded yet again why I hate airports. I skipped ahead of everyone by bouncing down the stairs while they all took the escalator to immigration. I was out before everyone and feeling quite chuffed. I stood by the luggage conveyor belt that I could have sworn said Sao Paulo for a good 20 minutes and then saw the Canadian girl with the Irish passport I’d been trying to beat out of the airport, strolling out with her rucksack. I scooted over with my trolley and saw that all my fellow passengers were getting their stuff behind my back. I grabbed my one that must have been going round and around for ages. After the customs check I went through the arrivals door and started my hour long search for Michael, the guy from college I’ll be volunteering with in Lima. During this hour I made plans to sleep in the airport. I scrapped that and decided to go into Lima alone, and then I changed my mind again and decided to fly somewhere else (it was at this stage 1am, I was wrecked and lost and don’t speak Spanish). But before I whipped out my credit card to fly away I had the brainwave of putting on my Kerry jersey. There was a chance one of the Irish priests would be picking me up, not Michael and I figured the best way to get spotted in a foreign country was to wear something unmistakably Irish. After emptying out my entire rucksack and retrieving my jersey I spotted an illuminous green sign that said ‘Claire Canning’. Turns out one of the priests, Fr. Tony and his right hand woman Elsa had been standing there at arrivals waiting for over an hour and a half (they did the same the night before because they got the dates mixed up). They took me away in Tony’s VW Beetle through the unpaved roads of the suburb we’re in (I’m sure it has a name but sure I don’t know what’s being said to me here). Finally after 2 days of (sort of) travelling I reached the home I’m to spend two months in with Michael. The English name of this home is the ‘Home for Troubled Children’. I will explain that one when I’m not quite so jet lagged.

Shortly after writing my last entry things took a turn for the worst. I was one of the last getting of our plane because of the tons of crap I’m lugging with me. And it seems 6am is too early for most Brazilians. There were only 2 people working the immigration desk so it took me over an hour and a half to get my ‘shiny Brazilian stamps’. People from the flight that arrived an hour after ours were right behind me. As I approached the top, 6 more people arrived into work and it went pretty quickly, by then I was fit to collapse. At least they let me into the country.
Leaving Sao Paulo airport was more difficult than I had envisaged. I suddenly realised I didn’t really know anything about the place and I started remembering every horror story I had heard about people being abducted and attacked, and at the very least mugged. I was sure as soon as I stepped outside the door there’d be someone outside waiting to lighten my load. I ended up having breakfast there and tried to have a conversation with a deaf woman who sold me some Sponge Bob Square Pants stickers. Eventually at 10am I felt ready to check my luggage into a locker and venture into town.
After not sleeping much on the plane , I straight away started snoozing on the bus. Would have missed my stop had it not stopped so abruptly and flung me onto the floor. I had instructions written by a friend of mine, Cassio, but was pretty sure these were in my bag back at the airport. I had to use the map in my guidebook. Unfortunately, orienteering has never been my forte. I headed to Rua de 24 Maio, the street named after my birthday! I kept walking, occasionally jumping when a smooth black thing hit my hand; I kept thinking it was a dog, turned out to be my sleeping bag that I had dangling from my daypack. I came to a museum with big stone steps in front of it. I figured it would be safe to take out a guidebook there, didn’t really want to on a busy street. I sat with a load of men (later discovered this spot is where the unemployed guys sit everyday waiting for work) and discovered I had indeed gone in the complete wrong direction. I found Cassio’s instructions in my bag and between that and the map I finally found Sao Paulo Hostel.
I had booked a bed in an 8 bed dorm but they must have been out of those because I got a single room with an en-suite. Complete with TV, fan and a fridge. Not bad for 10 Euro. Was about to hit the hay when Cassio rang saying he’d be there in 40 minutes to take me to lunch. After a quick shower I was off to see the sights.
We went to a buffet place to eat. It’s where he and his journalist buddies eat a lot. It was great to try loads of different Brazilian food. Wish I could describe it but I’ve no idea what I was eating. Looked like loads of seeds. There was a chicken curry in there too, which was lovely. We weighed our plates then and paid, depending on how heavy it was.
Cassio had to head to work for a while to proof read an article he had written, and he took me with him. Got talking to a girl at the next desk who loves Ireland. She even has the Ireland Lonely Planet on her desk. I hung around the office for a bit. Wish I could remember the name of the paper. It’s one of the two biggest in Brazil apparently. I sat in a swively chair pretending I was a hot shot reporter, but was in fact on my Bebo page checking my messages. Soon enough we ventured back onto the street of Sao Paulo.
We walked for hours around the downtown area. Cassio explained that that was the place where tourists generally don’t go. It’s not dangerous or anything, it’s just not an affluent area. I saw a church that looked like Notre Dame in Paris, an art museum modelled on one in Paris, a building that was modelled on the Empire State Building and a park that could easily have been Central Park. Good to see some original architecture there. Cassio seemed to know the history of the entire city; I barely know the street names in my home city so I was well impressed.
We also chatted about the economic development of the area (yes we are ever so smart!). I’d heard about the number of people living in favelas in SP but amazingly enough I didn’t see a thing. It was like they had hidden all the poor people. He explained how in Rio rich and poor live side by side, but in SP the poor live outside the city. I saw about as many homeless people as I would on a day out in Dublin and I didn’t meet one beggar. I heard how, because of this, many people come to SP, even as backpackers, and leave thinking it’s a very well-off place.
We then got the metro up to one of these posh places called the Miraflores area. It was incredible. We could have been in Manhattan. In fact that is the only place in the world that has more helicopters than Sao Paulo. We passed a block of apartments that each cost $2,000,000. Saw some of the most amazing houses. We got a bus out of town, but got off early to avoid a man telling us how the world was about to end because the population was getting too big (or something along those lines)! We walked through the Ibirapuera Park which is like the outdoor gym of Sao Paulo. Hundreds of people jog by there every evening.
We heard Sao Paulo fashion week was on in the park. Fashion Week shows are the ones Victoria Beckham and Co. like to be seen front row at. We were informed Gisele Bunched (Leo deception’s ex) was the guest-of-honour that evening. So I turned up at the very prestigious fashion event in my hiking boots, jeans and t-shirt that had been my pyjamas ’til I ran out of t-shirts. We stood at the door taking photos for a while (saw a Brazilian Indian chief who is a celebrity round these parts but Cassio couldn’t remember him name). After taking a few photos we moved on, we doubted we were the clientele they were looking for.
We wandered around a bit more, I saw the freakiest tree ever! It was like it had octopus legs drooping down from its branches. It must have had 50 or so. As it was dark and shadowy I was actually terrified of the tree. I ran ahead a little bit pretending to be joining in with the joggers.
We had dinner with a friend of Cassio’s (whose name escapes me right now – but he was a lovely guy!). I was so hungry I was afraid to go for a Brazilian dish in case I didn’t like it so I went with the ever-trusty baked potato and chicken topping. Cassio’s friend is in charge of marketing M&Ms in Brazil. What a cool job! I went on (possibly a bit too much) about how I love Yellow and Red (the two M&Ms characters) but that I prefer Yellow cause he’s so damn funny. He said when he thinks of Ireland he thinks of U2 and war! How lovely!! They also groaned when I could only think of football for Brazil.
All in all, was a very educational day. Don’t think I’ve ever seen so much of a place in one day. The lads drove me home after dinner. I was so tired I barely remember grunting at the reception people to get my key. Then woke up on my bed, fully clothed, a few hours later, all set for more Brazilian fun the next day!

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