The Archive

Meat me in St Louis, Louis

Hi all.

A quick one today as I´m in an Internet cafe with no air conditioning and the sweat is already running down my back (nice image eh?)

Last night was a very Brazilian night. We (Clan Vartan and myself) went off to a churrascaria, which translates roughly as `place to eat meat, meat and more meat until you think you are going to die`.

The system is this. First you go to a salad bar style operation where you load your plate with things you think might be a good accompaniment to every kind of meat imaginable.

Then, when you`ve got a plate full of more food than you would normally eat in a week (and only then) you take a small disc to your table. This is red on one side and green on the other. Putting the green side up is basically your statement `hey meat, I´m here and I mean business`.

Consequently, various people then come around to your table, offering cuts of meat from what look like what those big Doner Kebabs on sticks were supposed to be like before someone had the great idea of using hooves, testicles and lips instead of real meat.

Now being the polite sort, when someone offered me anything, I felt rude saying no. So I said yes.

`Pace yourself`warned Alex. But did I listen? Of course not, because that would mean learning something, and as we know from the trip so far, I haven`t learned a thing.

So I ate beef, I ate steak, I ate prime rib, I ate sausage, I ate salami, I ate another sausage, I ate a chicken, I ate a chicken sausage.

Then, just as I was considering how much an aorta replacement might be, Alex pointed out that if you wanted to stop the meat train (although you could, of course, have just said no to any of the guys who came up), you turn your disc over and the red side indicates to the waiters `I surrender.`Also`Please keep an eye on me. CPR may be required shortly`.

After this, Tanya took the pickens to bed and Alex and I continued, stopping at the Academia da Cachaca. Sounds like a school right? Actually, Cachaca is the spirit you use the make Caiparinhas and it`s, well, it`s nothing special actually, but when in Rome, drink as the Romans do right?

Anyway, after this we ended up in a club (overpriced, I might add). There I got to dancing with a young Brazilian. Soon we were talking. Well, I was talking, she was talking, but as neither of us spoke more than two words of the other`s language, it didn`t really take off. Still, nice to meet a local I guess.

Then this morning I joined a gym. Yes, I know it sounds odd, but I`m now a week long member of the local gym. This is good because three times a week we have capoeira lessons.

For those not in the know, capoeira is a sort of blend of dancing and martial art derived, allegedly, by the slaves who wanted to train how to fight but to keep it secret, they made it look like a dance.

Anyway, two very nice young lads translated for me and Tanya who watched the moves and tried to repeat them.

Now in my mind, my body was doing exactly what the other guy`s body was doing. My legs were describing a graceful arc. My body bobbed and swayed with the sinuous grace of a cobra.

Unfortunately, there was a giant mirror in the studio, and I could see that in the real world, it simply looked as if I was trying to stand up whilst some prankster administered periodic strong electric shocks.

Still, the instructor said we were good, and why would he lie eh?

So, that was the day so far today. My keyboard is now about to fritz out of existence due to waterlogging and I`m going home to lie in a dark, air-conditioned room.

Cheerio.

posted by Peter The Great @ 6:27 PM