Day 1 - The Arrival

My flight on Thursday night wasn't until quite late, so that meant that I didn't have to pack until the last minute when I got home from work that night. However, I was so excited about this trip that I actually packed on Wednesday night. The build up for the trip had been tremendous - we were all sending emails multiple times per day, and Stefan and I had been talking on the phone almost every night. Those of you who know this obnoxious character know that he takes quite a bit of patience to deal with, but he was very good for delegating tasks to, like buying Roland a jug of Red Vines from Costco buying Roland and I an extra battery each for our Canon cameras off of Ebay. My import/export duty was to go down to the ghetto in Brooklyn to pick up Roland's new $300 James Bond poker chip set that he bought online and had sent to me. The problem was that it was way the hell down at the Fedex warehouse in Brooklyn and they were only open during business hours. It was a pain in the ass, but he's worth it, even if they were heavier than bricks of gold :o| . Plus, we needed some entertainment for our late nights!

To make things interesting, I set up a gambling ring with the gentlemen about how late Roland would arrive on this trip. He had scheduled a five-hour layover in Paris to make sure that no delay would cause him to miss his connection, but I wasn't convinced. He was supposed to arrive at 9:00am on Friday morning and I was getting in a few hours later, but I made a bet with him that I would arrive before he would. The first wager was a round of cervejas, but Vas then called and raised the bet and said he would buy all the beers on the trip if I beat him. I read his email, gave it a double-look, and all I got was a straight poker-face from the words on my screen. He was bluffing, I knew he was. Damnit, I was convinced that I had the better hand, though. I called his bet. Stefan folded on the bet, and Daniel also called his bluff and thought I'd arrive first as well. This would at least make the trip entertaining...

So I boarded my flight at 10:00pm Thursday night for an overnight, nine hour flight down to Sao Paulo. I had tons of leg room (emergency rows rule) and sat next to a stock broker from Sao Paulo who was up in NYC for work. I didn't talk to much because I was tired and wanted to pass out as soon as possible to be ready for my week. So out came the glass mini-bottle of red wine from my jacket, which I sipped on like a stainless-steel flask in between flight attendant fly-byes. It did the trick though, and after dinner my iPod was spinning some nice sleeping music and I was out.

I woke up somewhere over the Amazon, about an hour and a half before the flight landed in Sao Paulo. Perfecto! When I arrived in Sao Paulo and finally made it through the customs line, I had a huge grin on my face as I entered the masses of people around the international arrivals gate, eagerly looking for my long-last buddies - Kelly and Daniel (the Brazilians). I was hoping I wouldn't see Roland's face because that would make my trip much more expensive due to my bet ;o). Sure enough.....I saw no one's face. I hate that, when you have that eager grin on your face and you walk out into the crowd hoping someone's going to greet you and instead you look lost while you wander around hoping to find them. At this point, I knew that my bet was a lost cause and I was going to have to pay for all of Vas's cervejas because if he wasn't there, Daniel and Kelly would have been on-time ;o) . I parked my luggage next to the cutest girl I could find and turned around to see the clan hollering my name and Vas holding a sign that said "Someone's Buying Me Some Beer This Trip". Of course I was ecstatic to see that sign and gave everyone a big hug. It turns out that Vas doesn't like cerveja anyway, so the bet was all for not. I knew he was bluffing in some way ;o)!

We went over to Stefan's terminal to pick him up (he arrived shortly after me) and he arrived in his bright blue "Yes, I'm American, please rob me" Hawaiian shirt. It was great to have our group back together and we all looked forward to the trip. We loaded up the Calandrino's new Caravan (we had destroyed the Grand Caravan three years prior, blowing a tire, ripping a bumper, and breaking a muffler and exhaust all in a week ;o) and started the long trip to Daniel's hometown, Sorocaba.

Everyone was hungry and a bit tired from the trip (Roland doesn't sleep on flights, Csilla couldn't sleep much, and Stefan only slept about two hours. I got a full six hours or so :o), so we planned on getting some food pretty soon after our arrival. We were staying next to Daniel's parents house at Anita and Ricardo's house (sister and brother-in-law) in the notorious Calandrino mafia neighborhood of Sorocabo. Don Calandrino (said with a Marlon Brando accent) was remodeling (not rebuilding, Daniel ;o) his compound next to Anita and Ricardo's house and the family had moved into another house around the corner. It was nice to have all the family so close and very convenient. The church where the marriage ceremony would be was just around the corner, as well.

What better way to start a trip than by visiting a Brazilian churrascaria (barbeque, more on this a few days later) an hour after arriving? Unfortunately, the bastards were still closed at 2:00, so we went to one of the Calandrino mafia's many Habib's fast food restaurants for lunch. Habib's has about 250 restaurants in Brazil and it is middle-eastern food. Daniel manages one restaurant and Don Calandrino (said with a Marlon Brando accent) runs four of them in the area. Daniel ordered up a bunch of food for us and I filled my belly with the food. Roland was too tired to eat anything but had plenty of room for a dessert. Csilla, as skiny as she is, eats manlike portions and ordered a massive banana split for dessert that she took a nice chunk out of, but called in for aerial support from Stefan's buddha belly and my welcome-to-brazil appetite.

After lunch, we headed back to the family compound to hang out with Daniel's awesome family and lounge by the pool. It was nice and hot outside, so the pool was quite refreshing. We messed around with a couple soccer balls with Luis Estevo and Tulio (two of the Calandrino brothers) that were laying around while Csilla did her nails. After a few hours of lounging, Roland and Csilla headed back to the homestead to get caught up on sleep. Soon thereafter, we realized that there was a hidden gem that Daniel had been hiding from us - ping pong tables. Snap-crackle-pop, the beer cans started to open and we found the ping pong paddles and balls. We played a few games and rallied around for a while before we found out that Don Calandrino (said with a Marlon Brando accent) was coming home from work and was bringing some pizzas from Habib's for us.

We thought we'd snack on a few slices in a quiet house as it was pretty quiet all night. But as soon as Don Calandrino (said with a Marlon Brando accent) came home and called us in, the place was buzzing with Calandrinos. This is a family with 13 kids, so they were coming out of the woodwork. It was great though, the whole family was there at 11:00pm, eating pizza, drinking guarana, and the adults were sipping on cool beers from the fridge and talking. Stefan and I had planned on getting to bed early that night so that we could be fresh for the next day, wedding day. That went out the window once Daniel's mom busted out a vat of an eggplant dish with vegetables and spices for us gringos to munch on. Daniel said that his mother and grandma like nothing more than to make food that people enjoy, that's like their sole purpose in life. Of course, with 13 kids, they don't have much time for much else! But you could see the smile on her face as Stefan and I dug in for seconds and thirds of the tasty dish. Daniel told us later that he can't stand that stuff, but he's glad that we enjoyed it!

We got home at around 12:30 that night and crashed pretty quickly in the sweltering room. The room had a ceiling fan that Stefan woke up in the middle of the night to turn on high because he has issues with his body temperature (I think you can figure out why!). As expected, I woke up with a really dry throat and mouth, even after I buried my head in my pillow. I always laughed at Germans because they are paranoid about moving air giving them sore throats, but lately I've been realizing that they might have a point. Maybe they don't need to be THAT paranoid, but whatever.

J. Riley, One Day down, Nine to go!