No Girls Allowed
And other SP antics
We just got back to the interior of this big state, and I am trying to keep myself busy as it is too late to have a nap. We stopped at the most delicious and ridiculously priced quilo (pronounced “kilo”) ever. 40 BR (about $8) for all-you-can-eat of rice and beans and all kinds of meat and salad and an actually good dessert selection (RARE). Naturally, I ate too much.
So, I must at least make my gluttony work for me until it is an appropriate hour to fall asleep. Here’s a visual run-down of some parts of my nine days in São Paulo. Why not more photos or variety? First off, it ain’t wise to go around the city with your phone out. Also, I took a few rolls of film, which won’t be developed for a few more months now, and live in a bag in the closet until I get them to a lab. So, phone photos it is!
A very beautiful house in Pinheiros, smack dab in the middle of the city.
Eating my first acarajé after having a few beers and listening to people practice music ahead of Carnaval.
This delicious fritter is an Afro-Brazilian delight made with shrimp paste, beans, and a wonderful, but treacherous ingredient: dendê oil. Dendê, made from red palm trees, is your friend, until it's not. It is a necessary ingredient that adds depth and personality to some of the best food Brazil has to offer, but it also makes you, in the words of Anthony Bourdain (RIP), “shit like a mink.”
Like all good things, acarajé should be approached with respect and caution (which I absolutely had after a few hours of drinking cold beers in very cool botecos).
A bloco dog, ready for pre-Carnaval. Pre-Carnaval is not just a theoretical thing. The city of São Paulo literally puts up signage everywhere about where events are happening, dates, and which train lines are the ones to take to get to them.
That day, we’d gone to the República neighborhood. If you want to look for records or old cameras, that’s where you’ll find them. It’s also where a pre-Carnaval party was happening - beer vendors everywhere, glitter, people ready to go ham a week before it all really goes down. Even the dogs were ready! It began to pour rain literally just as we got back to our apartment, and our pre-Carnaval plans were firmly squashed. As the guy in the record store told us, Carnaval and rain always go together.
Feeling cute and sweaty in this humid city. It is unreal what having predictable and decent skin does for the mind (there were no photos of me out anywhere for over a year because I worked a very stressful job and got the worst acne of my adult life as a result).
It’s weird taking pictures of myself and actually feeling cuter than I did in my twenties! It’s awesome! It’s not awesome being stared at by men, though. The way that men here stare hard, like you could almost feel the air leave your lungs hard, at so many women, is gross. Brazil and Italy are the two countries I’ve spent a decent bit of time in where sexism and misogyny are so evidently on the surface everywhere they could be skimmed off like fat.1
Looking for a used bookstore in Pinheiros and you better bet I walked under this adorable floral arch. Yesterday I strolled over seven miles to this neighborhood and around São Paulo, and came away with two books by Brazilian authors, both English translations, and a stomach full of gelato, and tired legs. One thing I’ll note here: If you are going to be on foot, watch your ass crossing the street. Some roads have pedestrian signs, but that doesn’t guarantee vehicles will respect these, and vehicles of all kinds, especially folks on motor bikes, certainly don’t respect pedestrians (the only exception sometimes being old people). It is one big game of chicken here.
Good beer in a bad taproom. The oft-overly-masculine vibe that the craft beer industry has in North America is practically effeminate compared to what I’ve seen here in this part of Brazil. I think farther north cities like Rio have more breweries and taprooms that don’t feel like they should have a sign that says “GIRLS SUCK” on the front door (once upon a time I think I read an article about this). Alas, the only brewery or taproom I’ve genuinely enjoyed going to that had both good vibes and good beer in SP was Cervejaria Nacional.
When I’m in a place like this, my hackles go up. I’ve given thousands of hours of my life and labor to craft beer, and genuinely loved most of my time in this industry, but still have so much residual, simmering rage with how craft beer continuously treats women, as clients, as coworkers, as collaborators. I always try to smother these thoughts quickly, though. In this and most hyper-masculine industries and spaces, men do not care that women can do and enjoy whatever thing the dudes think they do and enjoy the best. Best to just have the one beer and scram.
A very cool Kodak trash can highlighting the Galeria Professional, where if you want cameras old or new, to buy film, get a battery, or talk shop, you must go. Everything is very expensive but well taken care of, and the dudes that run these stores know their stuff.
Bad picture of good trees. These trees always feel like old friends. A lot of them got knocked over in December during some big storms in SP, so it’s good to see others holding strong. The reason the picture is bad is that when I am alone, I rarely take my phone out of my bag, and the camera gets dirty. Stopping on a sidewalk, rummaging for a lens cloth, and then cleaning my phone’s camera just sounds like a way to invite unwanted attention. Also, the sidewalks are often so bumpy and in bad condition that if you just stare at your phone you’re likely to trip, so there’s that.
One of the most perfect assortment of delicious things I’ve ever had.
A Pepto-pink building called the Edificio Louvre.
Well, y’all, I am getting bitten by tiny, aggressive ants that are outside everywhere, and the parrots are so loud I cannot think straight. I’m blaming them if some sentences here have minor errors. You try writing cohesively with dozens of parrots having a party in the trees around you and ants biting your feet!
More to come in the next few days. I leave for Rio next week for real Carnaval, which is going to be fun, insane, and probably a little hellish, so I’ll try to get some things scheduled for y’all before then.
I think in the US we are sneakier and almost more vicious about how we treat women, because it looks like it’s all even and nice and then you slowly realize that almost none of the men around you actually think you’re a human being, and you begin to feel crazy.