We're walking to the mall
Just because there's a Subway there
Not the subway
Not underground trains and filth
Just Subway
You know
Eat fresh.
"It feels like downtown Naperville"
(He's longing to go back home)
"Kinda. The sidewalk's too gross and there are too many tall buildings, though"
"Not the looks, just the feel, the sun's just really warm and the smell is kinda the same and it's just random"
"Plus we're going to Subway"
"Yeah. It's an American thing"
Two seconds pass and he says it again
"It feels like Naperville"
"Kinda, not exactly"
"Close your eyes and feel it"
So I close my eyes
And there I am
Barnes&Nobles right next to me
Ruddy red bricks stretching across an organized town
Gigantic and flashy or environmentally friendly and flashy cars are zooming by
And it's safe to cross the street without looking twice
I could go to Noodles and Company or Jamba Juice or that cute little candy store with the delicious gummy trout
I could go to the River Walk and throw bread to the ducks
Or hop inside Barnes&Nobles and read Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul all afternoon
(Or I could go home. Back to my house. Sit on the roof with my friends.)
I open my eyes.
It's not Naperville.
"We're gonna go to Subway and then when we step out we'll be next to Dominick's and the library"
He says
And I do one of those nervous laughs
Because I know he's kidding
But somehow it seems true.
~*~*~*~*~
We turn onto Borba Gato.
(What a weird street name)
And all of a sudden it goes from feeling like Naperville to feeling like ghetto Chicago
Construction everywhere
Homeless people on the streets
Buildings stretching up up up
"Let's walk faster. It smells funny here."
"Ok."
We speed through
And there's the mall.
~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~
To get into the mall you take creepy stairs down
(Like the ones you take to get to the actual Subway in Chicago, if you were gonna take a train)
They're gritty and threatening
And you can barely see your destination
But you go down down down
And all of a sudden it goes from underground train station to life.
~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~
"Why do all the malls here have a grocery store!"
That's his first reaction.
I love my little brother.
"I don't know. Let's find Subway."
We follow the signs that say
Praca de Alimentacao
Food court
It's not like Fox Valley
The food court is all the way up
Not all the way down.
~*~~*~*~*~**~*~*~
When he sees it he starts running
"SUBWAY!!!"
It's like he's going to hug a long lost friend
(Mark, I thought of you)
He orders his food
Getting a 30cm sub
Instead of a footlong
And there are cookies
Real cookies
Chocolate chip
Soft
Yummy.
He bites into his sandwich and he's home
"It's even better than the one back in Naperville, it almost tastes like Quiznos"
"Yeah well, they keep it cleaner here"
"Yeah, in the US it's like there's lettuce in the tomatoes and pickles in the peppers"
"Yeah, it's gross. Brazilians are super neat freaks"
He takes the last bite of his cookie
And we're done with Naperville
~*~~*~*~*~**~*~~*~*~
We step out of the mall
Into Brazil
It feels like forty degrees
(Not fahrenheit)
There are people buying fresh squeezed orange juice
And corn on the cob
And popcorn
And peanuts
And anything else you can imagine
From metal carts owned by barefooted Brazilians
And no one looks like they have money to spare
And everyone looks happy
It's like a circus or a county fair.
There are trees
Everywhere
Little forests in every step of the city
The shops don't have doors
There's just one wall missing
And I step into a clothing store
(A little place no bigger than my bedroom, filled up to the top with super cute everything)
Because this jean skirt catches my eye.
The lady is eating her lunch at the counter
And is interrupted by me asking her for the same skirt outside but in a larger size
"Sure hon! But the biggest size I have is G" (For the gringos G=Grande=Large)
She digs enthusiastically through neatly folded, packaged clothing and pulls out a skirt that looks like it'll fit someone half my size.
"Ugh. I don't think it'll fit."
"Of course it will! Give it a shot. You'll be surprised"
There are purple curtains on half circle bars
It kinda looks like a shower curtain
And I hesitate
Because it's not gonna fit
But I step inside anyways
"Let me see!" The counter lady calls from outside
I pull open the curtain, biting my lip, cause I'm not confident in how it looks
"It's perfect!" She assures me.
"It's u-hm. Hm. Yeah. I like it a lot. But it makes my hips look huge."
I'm tugging uncomfortably at the fabric hugging my figure
"Well! What else do you want! It's suppose to be tight like that. And you have a violao body. It's perfect for you"
Violao. A "guitar" body. Kinda like a disproportionate hourglass.
The second uncomfortable laugh of the day.
"It looks really good. I swear. I would tell you if it didn't"
I know she's just trying to sell me.
But I don't know
The skirt just made me feel good.
"I'll take it."
Done. The lady smiles and she adds, "You'll be the hit of the balada"
"Yeah. I hope so."
~*~*~~*~*~*~*~
We're walking back.
We've only spent about 80 American dollars between us
But we're practically carrying new wardrobes.
(I love street stores)
"You know," He says, "We're always comparing Brazil and the US. Like. We can't just say that São Paulo is busy or dirty or clean or anything. We have to say it feels like Naperville or Chicago or Arizona. And when we're in the US we say it feels like somewhere in Brazil."
"Yeah, well. It's because it kinda gets the point across about what the city is, but without listing everything single trait."
He doesn't respond.
But inside my head there's another conversation
He's right
This city can't be described in terms of US or Naperville or Chicago
SP, Brasil is a uniquely diverse, fresh, busy, lively, infested, crazy city where cars will run you over without looking twice and you have to clutch your purse to prevent getting pick pocketed
Where shop keepers and hair dressers become confidants and every corner has a different personality
There's just no way to describe it if you haven't been here
It's like nothing you've ever seen before
Crazy looking trees in the middle of highways and bamboo forests in apartment complexes
Fairs with fruit you've never heard of before
It doesn't matter how many things I list
The good or the bad or the ugly
There's a feeling that you can only feel if you're right in the middle of it
So
(Come visit)
--Julie
Just because there's a Subway there
Not the subway
Not underground trains and filth
Just Subway
You know
Eat fresh.
"It feels like downtown Naperville"
(He's longing to go back home)
"Kinda. The sidewalk's too gross and there are too many tall buildings, though"
"Not the looks, just the feel, the sun's just really warm and the smell is kinda the same and it's just random"
"Plus we're going to Subway"
"Yeah. It's an American thing"
Two seconds pass and he says it again
"It feels like Naperville"
"Kinda, not exactly"
"Close your eyes and feel it"
So I close my eyes
And there I am
Barnes&Nobles right next to me
Ruddy red bricks stretching across an organized town
Gigantic and flashy or environmentally friendly and flashy cars are zooming by
And it's safe to cross the street without looking twice
I could go to Noodles and Company or Jamba Juice or that cute little candy store with the delicious gummy trout
I could go to the River Walk and throw bread to the ducks
Or hop inside Barnes&Nobles and read Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul all afternoon
(Or I could go home. Back to my house. Sit on the roof with my friends.)
I open my eyes.
It's not Naperville.
"We're gonna go to Subway and then when we step out we'll be next to Dominick's and the library"
He says
And I do one of those nervous laughs
Because I know he's kidding
But somehow it seems true.
~*~*~*~*~
We turn onto Borba Gato.
(What a weird street name)
And all of a sudden it goes from feeling like Naperville to feeling like ghetto Chicago
Construction everywhere
Homeless people on the streets
Buildings stretching up up up
"Let's walk faster. It smells funny here."
"Ok."
We speed through
And there's the mall.
~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~
To get into the mall you take creepy stairs down
(Like the ones you take to get to the actual Subway in Chicago, if you were gonna take a train)
They're gritty and threatening
And you can barely see your destination
But you go down down down
And all of a sudden it goes from underground train station to life.
~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~
"Why do all the malls here have a grocery store!"
That's his first reaction.
I love my little brother.
"I don't know. Let's find Subway."
We follow the signs that say
Praca de Alimentacao
Food court
It's not like Fox Valley
The food court is all the way up
Not all the way down.
~*~~*~*~*~**~*~*~
When he sees it he starts running
"SUBWAY!!!"
It's like he's going to hug a long lost friend
(Mark, I thought of you)
He orders his food
Getting a 30cm sub
Instead of a footlong
And there are cookies
Real cookies
Chocolate chip
Soft
Yummy.
He bites into his sandwich and he's home
"It's even better than the one back in Naperville, it almost tastes like Quiznos"
"Yeah well, they keep it cleaner here"
"Yeah, in the US it's like there's lettuce in the tomatoes and pickles in the peppers"
"Yeah, it's gross. Brazilians are super neat freaks"
He takes the last bite of his cookie
And we're done with Naperville
~*~~*~*~*~**~*~~*~*~
We step out of the mall
Into Brazil
It feels like forty degrees
(Not fahrenheit)
There are people buying fresh squeezed orange juice
And corn on the cob
And popcorn
And peanuts
And anything else you can imagine
From metal carts owned by barefooted Brazilians
And no one looks like they have money to spare
And everyone looks happy
It's like a circus or a county fair.
There are trees
Everywhere
Little forests in every step of the city
The shops don't have doors
There's just one wall missing
And I step into a clothing store
(A little place no bigger than my bedroom, filled up to the top with super cute everything)
Because this jean skirt catches my eye.
The lady is eating her lunch at the counter
And is interrupted by me asking her for the same skirt outside but in a larger size
"Sure hon! But the biggest size I have is G" (For the gringos G=Grande=Large)
She digs enthusiastically through neatly folded, packaged clothing and pulls out a skirt that looks like it'll fit someone half my size.
"Ugh. I don't think it'll fit."
"Of course it will! Give it a shot. You'll be surprised"
There are purple curtains on half circle bars
It kinda looks like a shower curtain
And I hesitate
Because it's not gonna fit
But I step inside anyways
"Let me see!" The counter lady calls from outside
I pull open the curtain, biting my lip, cause I'm not confident in how it looks
"It's perfect!" She assures me.
"It's u-hm. Hm. Yeah. I like it a lot. But it makes my hips look huge."
I'm tugging uncomfortably at the fabric hugging my figure
"Well! What else do you want! It's suppose to be tight like that. And you have a violao body. It's perfect for you"
Violao. A "guitar" body. Kinda like a disproportionate hourglass.
The second uncomfortable laugh of the day.
"It looks really good. I swear. I would tell you if it didn't"
I know she's just trying to sell me.
But I don't know
The skirt just made me feel good.
"I'll take it."
Done. The lady smiles and she adds, "You'll be the hit of the balada"
"Yeah. I hope so."
~*~*~~*~*~*~*~
We're walking back.
We've only spent about 80 American dollars between us
But we're practically carrying new wardrobes.
(I love street stores)
"You know," He says, "We're always comparing Brazil and the US. Like. We can't just say that São Paulo is busy or dirty or clean or anything. We have to say it feels like Naperville or Chicago or Arizona. And when we're in the US we say it feels like somewhere in Brazil."
"Yeah, well. It's because it kinda gets the point across about what the city is, but without listing everything single trait."
He doesn't respond.
But inside my head there's another conversation
He's right
This city can't be described in terms of US or Naperville or Chicago
SP, Brasil is a uniquely diverse, fresh, busy, lively, infested, crazy city where cars will run you over without looking twice and you have to clutch your purse to prevent getting pick pocketed
Where shop keepers and hair dressers become confidants and every corner has a different personality
There's just no way to describe it if you haven't been here
It's like nothing you've ever seen before
Crazy looking trees in the middle of highways and bamboo forests in apartment complexes
Fairs with fruit you've never heard of before
It doesn't matter how many things I list
The good or the bad or the ugly
There's a feeling that you can only feel if you're right in the middle of it
So
(Come visit)
--Julie
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