A Tale of Two Cities

I've learned here that happiness in life is dependent largely on attitude and perspective. I find myself each week swinging between two very different mindsets.

The Detainee

I really miss home. A lot.

They say that no man is an island and from being here I can tell you that that shit is for real. I realize now how much of my joy and well being in life has rested squarely on the shoulders of my friends and family. They're not here and that part of my life has fallen through. Now, I feel like I'm on an island and there are no ships on the horizon.

If you're reading this, there's a decent chance I've had an imaginary conversation with you in the past two months. When I'm out of the house alone, I catch myself giving tours of my neighborhood to invisible friends beside me. You update me on your life as I show you the cake shop, the pastel place, the cars jammed together on Avenida Vente Tres de Maio. You have no idea how special it would be to just have one lunch with you.

I thought making friends here would be easy because it always has been. Even the restarts in life I've experienced like going to college or moving to Alexandria were a breeze in hindsight. Here I lack the language skills to form a bond. It's often ten or more days that I go without hearing another native English speaker. Even with my improving Portuguese, there's a missing fluidity that only two people from the same country can share. I've taken it for granted my whole life. When I visit home again, I will take deep breaths of the English around me.

Whenever I need to do some real communicating, Dani has to be there with me to translate. She has the Brazilian bank account and handles all of the bill paying. She's also a better cook than me, so the burden of preparing a decent meal falls mostly on her. I'm left with a lot of the grunt work like sweeping and doing the dishes. I'm a child here dependent completely on her to handle the outside world for me.

I want Mexican food. I want Thai food. Both are as easy to find as Ethiopian food back home.

While I'm much better adjusted than when I arrived, safety is always an issue. Like the susceptible mortals in vampire tales, I find myself late each afternoon looking up at the darkening skies and wondering if there's anything else I need today from out there. I will leave the house at night alone, but only to use the crowded streets I know. I'm rarely out after 9:00 pm. In all honesty, I'm not getting out very much at all.

Life is challenging.

The Permanent Vacation

Here in São Paulo, I live an unbelievable lifestyle.

I'm blessed enough to be able to work from home--something I will have a hard time ever trading in. The work isn't any easier and I probably am doing more than when I had an office gig. Still, there's a magic in bypassing the routine of slapping the alarm, showering, getting dressed and commuting. I get to join my co-workers by rising from bed the minute they step off the elevator. Our work days begin at the same moment, but I'm 90 minutes of sleep richer.

I'm logging nine hours of sleep every night. This maybe happened before in college and will probably never happen again. It's improved my quality of life immensely. I just feel healthier and more alive all the time.

There's a gym in my building. I'm almost always the only one in it. I faithfully go six days a week now. I've dropped seven pounds since arriving and am the healthiest I've been in a decade, if not ever.

The food here is hands down the best I've ever had. Another world traveler agreed with me recently, saying, "Forget Paris, New York, any of that. São Paulo has the best restaurants in the world."

To the US dollar it's all pretty affordable, too. There's a gourmet pizza place around the corner. Top of the line stuff for US $20-25 that feeds us for two meals. The homemade cake place nearby gives me three days worth of perfect banana bread right out of the oven for US $4.30. Twice a week I have an unyielding hankering for a hearty Brazilian meal. Dani and I spend US $24 for a little piece of paradise that looks like this. No tipping either.

My social circle is smaller, but it's given me time and focus to dedicate to writing. I enjoy keeping this blog and I've just begun what looks to be my first serious writing project since releasing my book, I Want You to Be My Second, in March of 2012.

I'm in flip flops most hours of the day. The temperatures can swell, but it neither gets as hot or as cold as back home. For two months now, it's been 70 degrees every single evening and night, and that in no way gets old.

I'm adjusted to the city and don't fear it like I once did. Looking back on some of my first posts, I'm ashamed of the way I hyped the threat of violence. I'm much more willing to take my cell phone out of my pocket on the train now. Walking alone during the day is a breeze and at night the streets around our apartment remain mine.

The party scene here is insane and unrivaled in the US except for maybe Vegas or Bourbon Street. Rua Augusta on a Friday night has dozens of bars/clubs for the choosing that seemingly never close. The cool thing is, you don't need to go into any of them to have fun. The real party is on the street where mobs of people just hang out and talk. Vendors sell drinks and all kinds of food right there. I don't do a lot of open container-ing, but it's nice to see a government treating adults like they're adults.

Many of Dani's friends have become my own. They're fun and I can tell they genuinely care about me. Her family loves me like I'm one of theirs. I could fill up a page listing all of the things they've gone out of their way to do for me.

Most of all, I get to live with my girl. She's amazing and everything that I need. We both depend on one another each day. Conflicts are rare and when they do occur, we handle it in a healthy way. She's a knockout and just as funny to boot. There will be no other wife in this lifetime.

Life was much harder here when I first arrived. In the past couple weeks I've realized that if I had to return to America tomorrow, leaving this city would have a real impact on me. This lifestyle that I have here is one I may sadly never be able to recreate. Sampa has taken me in as one of its own and I'm beginning to identify as one of its people. There's a lot to love here.

Here's to feeling a little more upbeat each day.