25/3 – Just another ordinary Tuesday.

The rain is pouring down and creates an almost horizontal stripe pattern in front of the traffic lights. The city and one of the most buzzing streets during the Carnaval are still recovering from the party of the year. After weeks of overloading all senses and the final discharge of energy during the last few days of the Carnaval, it’s like everything needs a big long breather.

I’ve decided to let the rain win and have dinner at the hotel restaurant. Three British girls, who are sitting just by the stairs up to the terrace and talking with the most high pitch voices imaginable, are starting to get more and more wine into their systems. Once their food arrives, it doesn’t take long before the waiter is called back. Apparently there’s something wrong with the plates, or the food, or both, hard to get a grasp on really. Suddenly, and very unexpectedly, the food complaints drift over into something that, from where I sit, seems like flirting with the young waiter instead. I’m struggling to keep a straight face when the flirting hits it off big time with questions about his age and work and finally origin: Where are you from? Ah, your parents are from Thailand. How neat. Do you speak Chinese? Sigh. The Dutch guy at the other end of the terrace, who is pretending to focus on his iPhone just as hard as I am with my book, makes a strange choking noise. Luckily, I hadn’t had a sip of the white recently, or it would have been all over the table by now.

For some reason Tô nem ai is more quiet than usual, no one out on the sidewalk drinking and chatting, just the normal clientele inside with the standard semi shocked middle-aged tourist couples here and there. The couples that didn’t really have a look around before they ordered the food, and now they can’t leave because they’ve just ordered tonight’s dinner. For some reason the middle-aged husband normally looks more bothered than the wife. If it had been a warm and clear night, the street would have been packed all the way from Poste 8 to the bar with happy mingling guys.

After numerous days at the hotel, the staff seems more like your neighbours than strict waiters and waitresses at the posh restaurant – and this meant in a pure positive way. No raised eyebrows anymore when I arrange the sugar stand and olive oil container to keep my book open or when I decide to have dinner at more European hours than the Brazilian midnight style.

Just a few inches from me, but on the other side of the glass wall, a pair of lovebirds seems to have a romantic dinner enjoying the Asian goodies at one of the tables inside. The guy to the left with a big tattoo sticking out from his t-shirt sleeve and the guy to the right with a silly smile on his face and eyes lost somewhere in far away land.

In other words, just another ordinary Tuesday evening at Rua Farme de Amoedo in the marvellous city of Rio de Janeiro.

9/4 – ...

If you’ve got any property in Rio, the time to sell it would have been a couple of days ago. Sea view from the front porch and waterfalls in the backyard could have been added to any real estate advertisement without telling a lie. Is waterbed back in fashion?
No, seriously speaking, not much to make fun of about the situation. It’s all very tragic. And scary. The city is starting to dry up, the streets are clear and the water levels in the lakes are decreasing for every hour. The mudslides will probably continue for another while, hopefully not as unexpected as lately though. But it will take a very long time before everything is back to normal…if ever…for a lot of people. And as it always seems to be, when it comes to forces of nature, it is not the ones who have the most, who loose some of it. It is those who have the least, who loose everything.

I try to always remember how lucky I am: Lots of friends and family, perhaps geographically on the other side of the globe most of the time, but still always there. A job I enjoy and which challenges me and brings me to fascinating places – how about Kellyville, OK for example? Playing the sport I love (except for here, but temporary substitutes can be found) which also brings me to new places – ever wanted to experience dodgy canals in Belgium or swimming pools in Tampere?
However, if I’m ever close to forgetting that all my worries are definite luxury problems (läs i-landsproblem), things like the last few days make it even more obvious. Honestly, I think I must have been one of the luckiest ones off after the total chaos, which was ruling the city for some 24 hrs. I wasn’t even there. I was “stranded” in a nice coastal town with my parents and didn’t even get my toes wet by rain. A small drizzle during the last day, an extra night at the pousada before being able to return to Rio and making sure my parents got on the plane to Europe. Not even worth mentioning in the big context.

I don’t know if the pictures made it worldwide but sports nerd as I am, I have to comment on this guy wakeboarding behind a Hilux (very nice car by the way) on the beachfront on Tuesday. Right where I would normally drive to work, past traffic lights and with road signs in the background. You can call it making the most out of the situation, or being ignorant to the chaos around you, whichever you feel like choosing. Of course, he didn’t help anyone by his few minutes of sports exercise, but for sure, he didn’t make life worse for anyone either. He might even have brought a few smiles to some people’s faces.

19/3 – Itsy bitsy Caroline.

Itsy bitsy engineer was longing for some snow.
Was sent to Rio, which washed the plans away.
Out came the sun, and beach and wind as well.
Itsy bitsy engineer went kitesurfing instead.

The itsy bitsy blonde girl had sunshine every day.
Friends came to visit, and brought along the clouds.
With mates around you, the weather makes the same.
And the itsy bitsy blonde girl was happy in the rain.

Itsy bitsy Caroline was smiling every day.
Home went the buddies, and washed the smile away.
Then came the brother, and dried up all the rain.
The itsy bitsy Caroline is smiling all again.

9/3 – One small step for mankind, a giant leap for Caroline.

Somehow, the cooking enthusiasm wasn’t as great as usual last Saturday and the going out for dinner option would have included a combined shower and wading mission comparable to Noah and his fellows’. Instead we decided to try out the delivery pizza quality of Rio. After a 15 min phone call, in something that should sound like Portuguese, and mainly consisting of repeating numbers for some reason, I had completed my biggest language mission in Brazil so far. And it was successful - the pizzas did arrive, on time, at the right flat, with the right toppings and in exchange of the expected amount of money. Sometimes, that’s a difficult enough achievement at home even. Learning new languages is great.
Another thing I like with living and working abroad is all the knowledge you constantly gain about life in that city or country. The learnings are always good for the understanding of the every day life in that particular place, but sometimes you also come across scary things. In this case I don’t have a “taxi ride scary” thing in mind but something which is scary on a different plane. Every day, between 7 pm and 8 pm, all the radio stations broadcast politics. The same show on every station, public or commercial and every day! Just feels wrong…

You also become an expert in making acquaintances when you move around and never stay too long in the same place. Meeting lots and lots of nice and interesting people all the time, who you perhaps will meet up with again, somewhere else, another time. Hopefully, you also become reasonably good at keeping in touch with your oldest and dearest friends, even if they most of the time seem to be located on the other side of the world from you. If I ever start drifting into the dark side of keeping in touch with, or appreciating, my friends, please remind me of last week. Thanks Pontus, Anders and Marcus for being such good friends and for the best week in Rio by far, miss your company already.

28/12 – I’ll buy my next umbrella when the sun is shining.

Everyone’s been telling me that I need to get an umbrella. And as I love listening to other people and take their advice… Erhm…since I normally think that I know better than other people, I didn’t think I would need one. Except for the day on my arrival, it hasn’t been raining, so why would I need an umbrella – duh? It’s just this tricky thing that when it’s raining it’s sort of too late to go and get one. Not only did I get soaking wet buying my umbrella, I probably paid three times as much as I would on a sunny day as well.

The rain is not all bad though, it makes wonders for my running. The temperature drops to some 25°C, no crowds, no prams, no Mr & Mrs Lovebird in electric toy sports cars or four-wheel bikes with the whole family (including a couple of dogs) riding along blocking most of the walkways. Not even other people out running or bikes and no need to stop at the water mist machines or to buy something to drink when you think you’re going to faint from sun stroke. In other words, suits me perfect and I knocked my PB off with 9%.

13/12 - What would a Samba Lucia look like?

It’s not like I’m supposed to leave in a week, thus, there’s no stress with the tan. Let’s be less Scandinavian tourist for a bit and not fry myself to a crayfish colour right away…even though I know it will turn into a nice tan in a few days – very tempting though...

Don’t know how they do it, but no one is wearing sunnies here. My eyes hurt after 5 min without them, but these people keep playing football on the beach and walking along without sunglasses or caps. Must be because of the gorgeous dark brown colour of their fantastic eyes. Me want too…

I wonder if anyone has ever counted, but there seems to be more helicopters over here than in Aberdeen even.

Hoppas ni fick några goda Lusse-bullar idag förresten. Och fick lyssna på lite lågstadieelever som sjöng Luciasånger till frukostkaffet - njut i så fall!

Mental note: 5 pm is way too early for a run – alternatively, bring some money to buy some agua (have forgotten the little word to go in between here) coco along the way.

Portuguese progress: fosfora (Should probably be some `´or stuff on some of the letters, but hey, I’m a dummy beginner still.)