Meeting my mom and sister

Monday May 19:

Woke up at 4:30 this morning to make a 7 am flight to San Salvador in Northeast Brazil. The airport was crazy and I am such a worry -art when it comes to getting a group of 20 students who don’t speak Portuguese through an international airport.ImageImage

The flight was quick and when we arrived we went directly to another churascurria. My throat hurt so bad and I was so nauseous that I didn’t want to eat anything, but then again they just bring you complete legs of delicious meat so you have to try it. I didn’t feel too well later lets just say, and it didn’t help that our host mom had made dinner for us that night anyways so I had to eat at least some as to not hurt her feelings the first night. Speaking of…

My host mothers name was Ana Amelia. I never met my host father because he is a doctor who works in the countryside about 4 hours away. They have a 31 year old daughter Ludmilla who is a journalist and a son Yuri who is a dentist. Ana doesn’t speak any English but Ludmilla speaks a little which made conversations fun and interesting ( at one point she was trying to say the Portuguese word for scarf which sounds a lot like “catch a cold”- I guess you had to be there but it was an hilarious joke). Ana always made us the best food. As I sit here and eat my airplane dinner that tastes like the plastic food I used to pretend feed my barbies, I REALLY miss Ana’s cooking! Dinner was always some type of homemade soup with acoutrements, bread, coffee, and a dessert like jello or ice cream (for about three days I REALLY enjoyed the jello and soup since that was all I could eat). That night we were stuffed and exhausted but we just chatted with Lud and translated slang terms in english. We taught her what “ratchet,” “YOLO,” “home-wrecker,” and “bro” were and she taught us the reciprocal in Portuguese. Riveting conversation, I know, but in all honesty those were the most insightful conversations because they encompassed real life jargon, and the fact that we had similar slang words showed just how similar we really were.


Ana was adorable, she had embroidered me and my roommate, Sam, towels with our names on them, she put the pictures that we sent in with our profile in little frames, she gave us decorated soaps (maybe she anticipated we would smell bad which I’m sure we did), and she wrote the cutest little welcome note in pink lipstick on our mirror. Her apartment was directly across the street from ACBEU (the Brazilian/American school where we had our classes) and it was cute and modest with the most amazing view of the Atlantic ocean from her balcony.


Sam and I have already made plans to come back and stay with them for Carnaval next spring.


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