Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Maybe you can go home again, kinda

I wouldn't know where to begin if I tried.


And I'm not even in the mood to try, because it's late and I've spent almost two evenings "at home" in the last few weeks. Don't misread that as a complaint--I have had the most unbelievably enjoyable weeks...catching up with family and friends from all of my previous incarnations.

I am posting from my new, beloved MacBook. (Yay!) I love it, but am still low on the learning curve. Add to that the hour, the wine, and the general confusion (of South v. North, of summer v. winter, of freelance v. full-time, of open agenda v. scheduling chaos), and you can likely forgive the whateverness of this post, right?

My Dad met me at the airport. Man, that hug was the best ever.

I spent the first few days nestled in Dad and Kris' warm home. I cuddled human-dog Spot a lot.


When I made it downtown, I parked my stuff at my dear friends Roberta & Michael's gorgeous condo. My friends are living in Wales at the moment, and they very graciously allowed me to crash at their place during my stay. I think I'm getting spoiled. Their home, a 20th floor condo in the heart of the city, is beautiful and comfortable. Forget the baby grand piano that I can't play and the 3 bathrooms, forget the fireplace I can't operate and the espresso machine I can--I'm living it up with a washer and dryer! The location is sweet and super-convenient to work. The tallest building in view from their living room is the new Trump Tower. It was under construction when I left--needless to say, it's done now. Enjoy this lovely evening view... as I do nightly.


I started working at Compass Lexecon, my former employer, on the Monday following my arrival and was surprised at how quickly and comfortably I transitioned back to the corporate environment. Dare I say, I think that one day I might even return to the "real world"... but not yet! Regardless, I was blessed with lots of great company at "Lex," but the one I had bonded with (and missed) the most was my girl Jackie. She's a rock star, I tell you. See for yourself...


...and Katie... she's an incredible girl with a spirit to match. Man, I missed these girls.


As I said, I've been out a lot. Reconnecting. Reliving. Reviving a little piece of my me, at the perfect time. When I visited Thiera, she had been in her new apartment approximately 36 hours. Still, she served me a big ol' glass of vinho tinto in a giant plastic cup--to which I responded: "this is why I love you." (One of the multitude of reasons, truthfully.)


A few evenings later, Thiera and I met Marcelo, my Paulista friend (and former Portuguese teacher) at a cute pub. (Tangent: I always knew, but just remembered, that Chicago has such a wealth of world class restaurants and bars--there are a million different places to go here, something for every mood, budget, and taste. We, if I can still count myself in that collective, are very fortunate for that.) Anyway, afterwards, Marcelo gave us a ride home in his new car. Marcelo has lived in Chicago for five years but, as he never had a car, he never had to clean off the ice and snow. As he peeled the cardboard packaging from his snow brush/ice scraper to do the deed for the first time, he proclaimed, "I'm living the American Dream!" and Thiera and I fell about the place laughing.


There are so many other bits and pics and stuff. The people I know here (like those in Brazil, and in Ireland, in Spain, in anyplace) are so amazing--so whole, so interesting, so admirable--that I feel like I am slighting them somehow by not writing a story for each person I cherish, conveying why and how they have impacted me. I don't want to slight them (you) all. Maybe, in time, I will manage to tell all these stories in words that do justice.

For now, though, I am happy here. I am freaking cold here. Still, it's been an enormous--surprising, even--pleasure. I trekked back here feeling a bit apprehensive about the ways I've changed... and the ways others might have changed in ways that I wasn't a part of... but I love love love this city. I love seeing my Dad, my friends--I even love working the grind (because of the previous bonds).

I've still changed. And I'm not done with my adventure. Please don't ask me what I'm looking for, because I don't know myself... but I'm not done.

But if and when I am done, I'll come back to Sweet Home Chicago. And I hope with all my hope that the people I adore are still here and just as welcoming as they are to me today--after my lengthy absence.

I leave you on ice, for now...


Happy 2010...

Loquinha Everywhere

Thursday, December 17, 2009

"Old habits..."

Winter isn't hitting me as hard (yet) as I expected it to. I fell right back into the swing of my old job, though I sense that I have a better attitude than I remember. Maybe because I'm more relaxed in general, maybe because the work is fleeting; either way I'm enjoying it.

I was surprised at how much information (passwords, procedures, phone numbers, etc.) bubbled up from the depths of my mind on Monday, my first day back to The Cube. And what I didn't remember on a conscious level, my weird robotic hand seems to recall for me. Today, I paused by the photocopier, thinking, "hmm, what was that employee number I used to enter to make this thing do its magic?" My digits responded automatically to the thought, keying in the requisite digits! Holy smokes, que estranho!

Yesterday I was treated by my old boss--"Chief", or "Denny", as I playfully refer to him--to lunch. Chief happens to occupy a high position on my list of most-respected people, and I am far from alone in that assessment. We had a really dynamic conversation, from matters of the heart to those of the world, as usual. It has been so fun to reconnect with all the people, colleagues and otherwise, from my other life, that even the cold weather isn't troubling me as much as I suspected it would.

The only thing that has me completely discombobulated is the southerly slant to the sun's trajectory. My inner GPS, my only real innate talent, is completely out-of-whack. Somehow, even though I'm in a city I recently knew like the back of my hand, North has becomes South. [Which creates an interesting side-ponder: how do all those migratory birds manage to keep it all straight?]

But the Southerners shouldn't worry. I'll find my way back soon enough.
Beijos pelo mundo inteiro,
Loquinha

Friday, December 11, 2009

Victoria Day

I don't mean the Canadian holiday. I mean my good kiwi friend, Victoria.
I'm going to miss her real party to celebrate the completion of her MBA (studying international business in Portuguese, while holding down two full time jobs, gasp!), but we had a pre-party, if you will, last month.



I am so proud of my friend. She is strong and ambitious, and will truly be a force to be reckoned with as she moves forward with her career.

Long distance-wishing you a great celebration.



Loquinha

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Change of scenery

I woke up at seven this morning, which is absurd. With the unplanned extra time and the bright blue sky, I moved like a tornado, scrubbing every surface of my apartment. (Luckily the place is small.) I even hand-washed the summery clothes I'll leave behind. At least my apartment should be wonderful and welcoming to return to.

[Don't buy cheap paper towels.]

It feels very strange, after a year and nearly nine months, and about a million changes--expected and unexpected--to be en route to Chicago: back to a skyline, but no visible stars; sideways to a corporate routine for a reminder of another reality; and forward to the cusp of 2010, in both of my worlds and accompanied by both of my personas.

Should be pretty cool; the forecast says that some seriously shocking temperatures will greet me. On the up side, so will my Dad.


Hello Sweet Home Chicago--and Tchau (for now) Porto Alegre!
Fui!

Loquinha com certeza


P.S. The other working title for this post was "Mother's Little Helper"...because Engov We Trust.
Why don't we have this little miracle hangover remedy in the US? I've armed myself with a supply. Let the reunions and holiday festivities begin!


Sunday, December 6, 2009

Roxo e doente! (Ammended)

Way back in 2005, I spent a lot of time and energy trying to procure an Internacional jersey for a creative project I was working on to surprise my then-boyfriend. I was living 6,000 miles away and didn't speak a word of Portuguese, so it was much more challenging than your standard shirt-shopping expedition.

Aided (or, perhaps, injured) by Google Translator, I engaged in "dialogue" with a sales rep named Eliane, which continued, little by little, over the course of about a month. We became kind of close, actually, as we gestured virtually (using clip art and pictures) to try and communicate.

At the closing of one email she wrote, "Roxo e doente!" According to Google, she had become "purple and sick" and I was taken aback in horror and concern for my new amiga. I sent a caring and sympathetic message...or at least, I tried to. She responded the following day in, what I suspect was, post-rolling-on-floor-risos (laughter).

I came to learn, much later, that "roxo e doente" is a phrase that Colorados (Inter fans) use to express their passion for the team.
Oh.



Later today, rain or shine, I'll be at Estádio Beira-Rio to cheer on my darlings for the last game of the 2009 Brasileirão, and the last game of the teams' Centenário, or 100th Anniversary.

We had a great start to this season, a rough middle, and have come very close to claiming the national title this year. [There's a huge national controversy swirling this week over the likely sabotage predicted for later today
by rival club Grêmio]. Our likely finish as "vice liderança" will still give good cause for a happy post-game celebration at the sold-out stadium.

Canta forte, minha galera!
Loquinha "purple and sick"

As letras da musica "Minha Camisa Vermelha"

Inter, estaremos contigo... / Inter, we are with you...
Tu és minha paixão! / You are my passion!
Não importa o que digam / It doesn't matter what 'they' say
Sempre levarei comigo / I always carry with me
Minha camisa vermelha... / My red jersey
e a cachaça na mão / and a
cachaça in my hand
O Gigante me espera... / [the stadium] awaits me...
Para começar a festa! / To begin the celebration!

Xalaialaiaa, Xalaialaiaa, Xalaialaiaa! / Sha la ya la ya (3x)
Você me deixa doidão! / You make me [a nutter]!

Xalaialaiaa, Xalaialaiaa, Xalaialaiaa! / Sha la ya la ya (3x)
Inter do meu coração! / Inter, of my heart.

Addendum 12/7/09:

The weather was befitting: a perfect storm--Inter fighting for the championship that was in the hands of their rival.

The team arrived at the stadium right after I did. As you can see, the scene was energetic!

video

Another in the little-thing-made-big series, I love love love our new flag that covers about 3,000 people in the stands. I also love how fast they "raise" and "lower"--as if it was water washing over the crowd. Neat!


Canta, galera!

video

Inter did their part--winning 4x1 against Santo André. Unfortunately, so did Grêmio--losing to Flamengo 2x1. Sem problema, sou orgulho de ser colorada! (No problem, I'm proud to be an Inter fan!)

Oh, the neighbor kids (a girl of about 11 and a boy of about 9--each of whom possesses a talent for malabarismos [fancy footwork]) are colorados too. Sometimes they make me laugh as I spy on their backyard soccer games and their mock "announcing" of the plays in the most recent game. Today, though, the girl is wearing a Flamengo jersey. Awww, man. Que triste!

Friday, December 4, 2009

Vizinhos

These are (some of) the people in my neighborhood.
[in my neighborhood, in my neigh-bor-ho-od!]



This is Paulo. He (apparently) owns a small parking lot next to my apartment and splits the 24/7 operation with his son. Paulo is from the interior, or countryside, and as such, his accent is so thick and so laden with colloquial speech that I can hardly ever understand more than 25% of what he's telling me. I pretend to get more, and I sometimes go sit on his extra stool, pet his adopted stray dog Pretinha, and try to communicate as best I can. He and his son are very pleasant, and it's nice to know that they are always there--keeping a finger on the pulse of the 'hood and looking out for me like little guardians.



This is the owner of the mini-mercado around the corner. I forgot his name, and feel too silly to ask him again after all this time. We wave to each other every day as I pass, occasionally indulging in a little chat about our team's recent performance. Sometimes when I walk by looking tired or hungover, he teases me about it--in a half-fatherly, half-friendly way.



Marcelo? I am terrible with names! This, though, is 1/2 owner of the little café I frequent most often. His girlfriend is the other half and we are always swapping stories, jokes, cultural insights, etc. He's posing with the special mug they have acquired to accommodate my special needs.

This is just a smattering, but there are lots of people that I enjoy greeting almost daily. I feel like they each look out for me and that feels really nice.

Loquinha

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

For my Dad

Hot off the press...



...thinking of you, Dad, and I can hardly wait for us to have the hugs we deserve next week.

"How'd you get to be so cute?"

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Oh, the irony...

In Porto Alegre, what's bigger than a Gre-Nal?

How about Internacional being a contender to win the 2009 Brazilian Championship in their last game, next Sunday, thereby commemorating their 100th anniversary in high style?

Sounds like one hell of a party to me!
Except...

Our arch rival, Grêmio, will play Flamengo next weekend.
Flamengo is in 1st place, Inter is in 2nd.
Grêmio is in 7th--and have nothing to lose by losing their game.

Oh well, at least we won't see them in the Libertadores 2010.

Bienal nos Cais do Porto

A while back, I mentioned the massive art exhibition, the Bienal, which is now coming to a close.



Of the venues that took part in the Bienal, the first I visited, MARGS, didn't allow pictures. Que pena! The art there was really provocative.



I could snap some photos at the Cais do Porto, however. The cais are the warehouses along the riverfront in Centro that edge the shipping port. Though they don't look like much from the outside, they are pretty neat. Loads of cultural events, concerts, arts and craft fairs, and other happenings take place there. I even heard it was the setting for a rather decadent wedding reception recently, which isn't surprising because the vantage point it offers sunset spectators is fantastic.




A tree suspended from the ceiling with various headphones attached, each one playing different audio (music, newscasts in foreign languages, interviews). I decided that I like interactive art.


I also like larger-than-life Lite-Brites.

The 55th annual Feira do Livro also ended recently. I am proud to report that during the 2+ weeks of the event, I managed to stifle my book-buying compulsion and only made a single purchase...my 2010 planner with daily Portuguese Grammar tips. How responsible of me!



Here's the stall for the Ministério da Educação. Zoom in on the picture and you'll see that the red Machado de Assis book is labeled "Venda Proibida"! Ha! Not for sale?!

Yes, apparently these books are on loan from Itú.

This concludes the November Art and Culture report from sunny Porto Alegre. I have a smidge over one week to try and get some color before I shock myself into alternate reality with a blast of Chicago air, so I have some work to do, poolside.

Loquinha Branquinha

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Turkey One!

Shelley is a very talented cook. In an eleventh hour decision, she decided to prepare a traditional Thanksgiving feast. If you have ever tried to satiate a comfort food craving in a foreign country, you will appreciate that (in)availability of certain basic ingredients poses a rather large obstacle. Making sauce bases and combining the right seasoning takes a creative edge. As if that weren't obstacle enough, she prepared a complete spread (from shopping to serving) after work on Thursday afternoon. (Yeah, I run with superheros now.)

Shelley dressed Turkey One* with a sausage and green pepper stuffing...


Assistants Allison and Kristin providing backup to Chef Shelley

...while the guests nibbled on the standard crudité and ranch dip. (Try making ranch in South America, I dare ya.)

We dined on green bean casserole with a cream-of-mushroom-soup base and those crunchy breaded onions on top; roasted garlic mashed potatoes; and handmade blackberry relish (the avant garde cranberry substitute)--with everything made from scratch.

It was amazing.

And of course the company was great too!



Thanks a million, Shelley and Rafael, for hosting us for a memorable Thanksgiving Day!

Loquinha

*This was a little inside joke that I'll do my best to relay concisely, but humorously. A few weeks ago, Lisa, Ivan and I were having dinner at a churrascaria, drinking caipirinhas of course. Somehow the conversation lead to me, agitatedly, recounting my audacity at Sarah Palin's was-that-your-friend-there-in-the-woodchipper turkey trauma from last year. I had to brief my Catalan and Aussie friends on the concept behind the customary Turkey Pardon. I explained that typically the President offers the gift of life to the presidential turkey...at which point my friends erupted in laughter.
Lisa and Ivan, in contemptuous unison: "Presidential Turkey?"
...p
ause...
Ivan: "What do they call it? 'Turkey One?'"
And we all rolled about the table with tears streaming down our faces.

Anyway, Shelley made a Turkey Two too. Both of them were perfect.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Sampa III: in conclusion

Despite my current leaning that Sampa, for all its efforts, didn't win my residential heart, there are loads of things to love there. Among them:

The cool vibe in places like Estação de Luz, Praça de Luz, Praça Republica,
and Trianon; the magnetism of neighborhoods like Pinheiros and Bela Vista ("Bixiga"); the beauty of the historic Centro; the inimitable nightlife; the unparalleled variety of restaurants; the ginormous parks; the dozens of museums; the street fairs in Liberdade (Asian-town), art fairs like Benedito Calixo, and food markets like the Saturday happening in Vila Madalena; and every day offerings of Mercado Municipal. The list of treasures goes on and on. Far from my first impression, São Paulo is a city I adore now.


The sun casts rainbows on the pillars inside Catedral de Sé.


I ate the most delicious Lebanese food in Cerqueira César. As a bonus, I received this imported box of Chiclets.




I think there must be 10,000 cool neighborhood joints and hip clubs that I would like to explore in Sampa.


People that like to hoof it around unknown cities and take the time to see the details will appreciate Sampa for its (non-marketing) signage--like this one which politely asks graffiti artists to move along.

Wherever my next home is, I'm certain that São Paulo will be more accessible to it, and that I will enjoy many more weekends happily losing myself in the maze.

Loquinha

(Thank you Leo, Felipe, Sávio, Rachel, and everyone else at
Casa Club for just being that cool.)

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Sampa III: playing with giants

From Insituto Butantã, I jumped on a bus that looked like it was heading in the direction of the hostel--figuring I'd hatch some sort of plan en route. After a few minutes on the bus, I asked the woman next to me if she knew where I could catch a bus to Itú.

As luck would have it, she said that the bus ended at Barra Funda, a massive intercity bus, metro, and local bus terminal. "Talvez," (my seatmate and new BFF) Rosangelina offered, seja um ônibus lá...

She was so helpful, so wonderful, sweet, and charitable... so best-of-"Brazilian." Roseangelina not only engaged me plenty of chatter to pass the commuting time, but also escorted me from our departure area to the intercity bus terminal, then on to an assortment of ticket counters of various bus operators, enquiring--with as much enthusiasm as if it were her own adventure--how and when I could get to my destination.

Com sorte, de novo (luckily, again), I found a trip and a ticket with just enough time to spare for a coffee. And just as buckets of rain began falling from the sky, I sat in dry comfort as the bus to
Itú pulled out. Why Itú, you ask?

Because I have a quirky affection for little things made big.



The rule of my affection is this: "it" (the regular object made big) has to be realistic. Allow me to provide some examples. This photo of some big fruits and veg (snapped at an art fair on Avenida Paulista, Sampa), are okay. 50% delightful. The realistic giant toothbrush outside your dentist's office--cool. 80%. The giant grill attached to the Weber Grill restaurant in Chicago--100 % delightful. The cartoonish butterflies and mushrooms on the façade of Rainforest Café, however--hate 'em.

Tangent: Here in Porto Alegre, I have several "locals"--which unlike their British counterparts (that is, pubs), are the coffee shops I frequent. A man at one of these locals told me about this little town that has some "giant" replications of everyday things. He said there was a giant orelhão. (You might recall the term.)

That was enough reason for me.

Two hours later I arrived in
Itú. I asked a taxi driver for directions to said scenic treat and hustled off, knowing I only had an hour and a half to find, delight, photograph, and get back to the bus station for my return trip at 7pm.



I came upon the main square of this charming colonial town easily enough. According to this sign, there were only 99 days to go until the 400th anniversary of
Itú. I have considered going back solely to learn how this quirky little town throws a party.

I found the giant traffic lights.



The cathedral reminded me of the one in Back to the Future...
except that the clock worked.



And the pièce de résistance, the great orelhão.



Just to provide perspective, here's the giant phone booth (left) and normal-sized cathedral (right, duh).



Incidentally, there was a pharmacy in Itú that had this logo of a boy getting a shot in the tush. The design was replicated in the sidewalk, over and over, along the entire block of the flagship store. Ha!



Feeling extremely satisfied, I returned to the bus terminal for my return to the megalopolis.

Unfortunately, this time, the 100km (62 mile) journey took 2.5 hours. We got stuck in an obscure traffic jam on the marginal (ring road) for an hour--at 10pm on a Monday--apparently that's normal. After arriving at Barra Funda I caught the wrong bus to the hostel, quickly realized the mistake, de-boarded in a shady area, and caught another bus in the right direction.

All I wanted, as I walked in the rain back toward Casa Club, was a stiff drink and a cheeseburger (they make the best I've had in my time here in South America, and I'd been saving the treat for my last night). Infelizmente, the kitchen was closed.
(Grimace.)
Fine. Give me a strong caipirinha then.

The 5-hour bus debacle foreshadowed the conclusion of my Sampa research: it's a wonderful city to visit, but I think the daily realities of living there would be unbearable for me. I felt very disappointed by this realization, while being thankful to have it on a reconnaissance mission as opposed to after an all-out move.

After a few days of disillusionment, I found a #2 city to visit on my next mission. More info on "City X" and my progress regarding Phase II of My Life In Havaianas in the coming months.

Beijos,
LG

P.S. I found this little
orelhão (maybe orelhazinha?) near a metro station in Sampa, which gave me as much pleasure as the giant one. Pure happiness!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Sampa III: things that go hiss in the night

So...my last full day to explore Sampa was a Monday. I headed to Universidade Federal de São Paulo and Instituto Butantã in the morning. I wanted to peruse the campus of the former because, as I have been considering a move to Sampa, I would enroll in Portuguese classes there if...

I wanted to visit the adjacent Butantan Institute sheerly to satiate my curiosity--it is "internationally renowned for its research on venomous animals."

I had a bit of a nightmare, though, getting from point A to point B...and to points C, D, and E, in the course of that day. (Normally, that is no trouble for me--even in cities I've never set foot--because I have a weird, natural, GPS-like mind and I tend to find my way around unfamiliar areas with ridiculous and envious ease.) I arrived at the university campus without hassle, sorted out what I needed to sort, and happily re-directed myself toward the poisonous things.

Because the sites are adjacent, I walked through the enormous USP campus expecting to land near the institute. I didn't factor in unscalable fencing. I didn't factor in footwear. I was wearing my Havaianas (flip flops, duh). They are oh-so-comfortable, but I don't choose them on power-walking missions.

I walked and walked along the fence that separated me from my lethal friends, foot soreness be damned.

Eventually I arrived at a guarded gate. A curious security guard advised me to take the campus shuttle back to the main entrance of USP, walk a few blocks here, then a few there, and I would find the entrance to Butantan. Awww man! Ok.

Eventually, I got there. It seemed really empty as I climbed the hill through the lush forest that surrounded the place. No matter, I figured. It's just (a little past) lunch time. Maybe everyone's still eating.

The first building I found in the larger-than-expected facility was very neat.



It fit with the stories I have heard of anti-venom breakthroughs in the early 20th century. In front of this building, there was an open-air exhibit of some of the research subjects--like rattlesnakes (cascavel, in Portuguese).



I learned from this sign that the word for "poisonous" is peçonhenta. Good to know.



I saw the creature, or the tail, at least. That's worth something.
I saw other deadly creatures. Neat.
Then I headed to the building to find the doors locked.
Perhaps there's another entrance?
Or, perhaps...



...they are CLOSED on Mondays.
PQP! (That's bad language.)

I enjoyed a little stroll though the gardens, where at least I felt like I was in a jungle.



So, it's after 2pm, and I didn't want to waste my last day. The only thing I had really hoped to see, and hadn't managed yet, was the orelhão in Itú--a town 100km outside Sampa. I hadn't brought the essentials (map, requisite bus station, iPod, etc.) with me, since I expected to save it for my next visit. At the same time (punny), it was too late to go back to the hostel to gather them. Actually, it was kinda too late to even consider a trip to another town, but
to my ears that just sounded like the makings of a perfect adventure story. "Ah, what the hell?" Right?

Next up: playing with giants...

LG

Friday, November 13, 2009

Sampa III: Ibirapuera!

Finally! Marcelo, my Paulista-native Portuguese teacher in Chicago, told me to visit this mega-park on my first visit. Oops.

The park area is nearly two square kilometers (large!) and still isn't the city's largest. I'd consider it the most central, though, and it really is fantastic. There are several museums, restaurants, concert stages, a skating area, bike rental, food vendors galore, etc. etc. etc.



Wait a minute. What's that off in the distance? Is it a giant "climbing wall"?



In fact, I suspect it was workers building the scaffolding to, in turn, build a rather large Christmas tree. Surely, it looked like a massive liability to my USAmerican eyes!



The feet, or boots, of this Brazilian Air Force Memorial seemed abnormally large. I laughed. I took a picture.

As I approached the Museu de Arte Moderna (Modern Art Museum), I thought this arachnid was painted on the wall...



...but upon closer inspection...



Yipes!

Parque Ipirabuera is
truly a lovely retreat from the "concrete jungle" that is São Paulo. I spent the better part of a day there and still didn't cover every thing. If you visit the city, don't miss it!



Next up: things that go hiss in the night...

LG

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Sampa III: the Metrô

Sampa's Metrô is just cool.



It's clean, fast, efficient, and economical. Though Paris offers a strong contender, Sampa edges them out--I reckon--for top prize simply for its modernity.

And politeness...


"Going to wait for the next train? Then give way to those that wish to board."

There is minimal advertising in the stations, as the entire city went almost ad-free by law a couple years back. Instead the city opted for art and poetry...





Check this out! Vending machines for paperbacks--clever!



A bit meaty-concretey, but sleek and refreshing just the same.


(Rachel and I did the tourist-thing, posing for snapshots in this station in which three different lines intersect.)


(I think these guys in were taking photos for a CD cover or something. Whatever they were up to, it made for an entertaining ride.)

Despite the fantastic system, ever-growing Sampa is facing a massive public transit crisis nevertheless. There are 28 new Metrô stations under construction. That will help. The buses, well... the street traffic, in general, is another matter...stay tuned.

LG