Look at me, Im British!

Well well well. It would appear my blogs are increasingly less interesting given the lovely graph that word press shows me every time I log in. I think this one might be slightly more entertaining given the weekend Ive just had.

More about that later though, this week has been hectic. We finally settled into our teaching role and started looking beyond for other things to get involved with other than beer and vodka. Although I certainly got on board with that this week aswell.

On Friday I didnt feel great but we went with some of the AIESEC Maringa team to Nobel Highschool about 20minutes drive away, anyway. It was a genuinely odd experience and I felt somewhat like a celebrity. Or how I imagine celebrities feel anyway. We, me in particular seemed to be paraded around like some circus act for teenagers to stare at and take secret photos of. Not sure how I feel about photos of me on 16-year old highschool girls phones… supposedly my image is One Direction esque. Not sure how I feel about that either. Consequently not many girls actually spoke to me and we left the talking to Frankie. As we always do.

So thanks to Camilla and Vitor for using my boyband good looks to advertise AIESEC to underage girls.

Moving back in time to thursday evening/night/fridaymorning and the reason why I  didnt feel great at Highschool. It started off so inocently as all good nights do, after our session Matthias, Frankie and I went for a hotdog. Something of a tradition now, but not particualry that special. Just cheap. And easy. (Like me). After dropping Frankie home we went to the home of cheap beer, Alfonso’s to meet up with Klara, her host and some other friends for (quote) “One or two beers”.

Cut to 7am friday morning walking home through the UEM campus watching most people start classes. Ill describe for your pleasure the bits I remember…

After 4 beers of convincing we got taxi’s to CarWash, a bar in town, picking Frankie back up on the way. I should mention I was in shorts and flipflops from our session and didnt go home to change after being re-assured numerous times by other drunk people that it would be fine and I would get in everywhere still. Between 5 of us we shared a bottle of Absolut and 12 cans of redbull. Good quality alcohol finally but still… alcohol all the same.

After failing to get in anywhere else due to my inappropriate footwear situation, we landed in some bar I only know the name of because I took a photo of the car they gave us. They have a different system in Brazil where they hand you a credit card upon entry which you use to pay for drinks and they pay for everything at once when you leave. So we were in MPB Bar, and i see this guy in a kilt.

I know right. I did a triple take. Apparently there had been a Scottish band playing who had just finished. then the bar sort of closed. So we were there for about 20 minutes.

Most of what I will say now is only what I think happened. We met these people, one of the girls then drove us home… but actually to another hotdog place that was still open. We then went to a petrol station to buy more beer and ended up at the house of the crazy guy who conviced us to go to Car Wash in the first place. I later found out he was 32… I can only guess that the girl who drove us home was called Natalia because I have someone in my Brazilian phone called that who Im pretty sure Ive never met.

Deep, heart felt conversations followed as is normally the case in the early hours after you dilute your blood with vodka.

You’ll start to think Im not actually doing any work here at all and just getting drunk all the time. Which is probably fairly accurate.

Saturday night. Party. Had a private dance lesson in the middle of a Samba club. (I know right, me… dancing. LOL). Our teacher then proceeded to find partners for me and Matthias. I feel you should know this wasnt a particularly ‘young’ place. So you can imagine my partner. Apprently I do have a bit of rythm. A surprise to me. The owner then asked for photos with the foreigners, to which we happily obliged (after fixing my hair obviously).

Sunday was Round II of the pool party, but without a pool. Mainly it was just a party with the leftover beer. Not quite as wild as the pool party, I think I was all too conscious of people memory of me from that day. And my distinct lack of memory about it. I believe there is still beer left over.. so round III ?

So in summary, last week. Ive been drunk, tired and British. People love it.

Next week. More of the same I imagine. And some more actual work.


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