Pa'lante Colombia!

Yesterday was the "sorteo," or draw, for the 2014 FIFA World Cup, where the qualifying teams finally find out which group they are in and who they will play in the first all-important round of play.  Ladies and gentlemen, start your stats and let the wagering begin!

Most of the news I saw was concerning the USA being placed in the "death group" with Ghana, Germany, and Portugal, essentially ending their hopes of escaping the group rounds.  Unfortunately, the likelihood of that happening to the USA with another combination of teams was pretty high regardless.

The highlight for me was the fact that the one game we had tickets to - June 19th in Brasilia - ended up being assigned to Colombia and Cotê d'Ivoire.  This is Colombia's first appearance in the Cup since '94 and they have been getting a lot of positive buzz around their talent and momentum leading up to their qualification.  Also, I lived there for five years and carry a piece of "la tierra querida" around in my heart.  To say I celebrated in front of some students and coworkers would be an understatement.  I'm glad my Selección Colombia jersey and Colombian flag will be put to good use here in Brazil.

¡Echa pa'lante, vamos Colombia!   I'm a bad American...

Mining the Past

You know you're in Ouro Preto if you can close your eyes, throw a stone, and odds are you will hit a church. For such a small town, even at its peak population of 110,000 in the mid-1700's, there are a ridiculous number of enormous churches.  Also museums.  And rocks.

Igreja São Francisco de Paula, completed in 1898 after 94 years.

The town of Ouro Preto has an important place in Brazilian history.  This tiny town in the state of Minas Gerais a couple of hours east of Belo Horizonte and several hours due north of Rio de Janeiro was founded back in 1711 after gold was discovered by bandeirantes (outlaws roaming the countryside looking for Indians to enslave and resources to exploit).  Due to the gold rush and resulting infrastructure, Ouro Preto was the place to be.  By the mid-1700's it was named the capital of the state and had a population more than twice that of New York City at that same time and over six times that of Rio de Janeiro, though most of this number was comprised of slaves.  Today it is under 70,000.

In 1789, several revolutionaries, including Joaquim José da Silva Xavier - better known as "Tiradentes" - began an uprising against the ruling Portuguese powers.  This particular effort failed, resulting in Tiradentes being jailed, then cut into pieces, his remains scattered along the roadway connecting Rio de Janeiro to Ouro Preto and his head impaled on a pole in the center of town.

In an attempt to preserve the history of the architecture of the town, in the late 1800's the capital was moved to the newly created Belo Horizonte.  In 1980 the entire city was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the first in Brazil.  The preservation was successful; walking the hilly cobble-stoned streets is like having taken a time machine to colonial European-style villa, but with palm trees, parrots, and monkeys.

In Ouro Preto you're either going uphill or downhill.

Aleijadinho's work:
Igreja São Francisco de Assis

Of all the churches, the Igreja São Francisco de Assis (1776) is allegedly one of the most important in terms of Brazilian colonial art.  The soapstone façade was carved by the son of a Portuguese architect and a black slave, known today as Aleijadinho, or "Little Cripple," due to a disease (leprosy?) that cost him his fingers, toes, and use of his lower legs.  This makes his carvings all the more impressive as they were created by  tying hammers and chisels to his limbs.  Ouro Preto is one of the best places to see some of his works.

This particular church displays two of Aleijadinho's signature styles.  The first is the double-barred cross seen at the top of the church.  The second is his portrayal of angels: always with wide open eyes and long wavy hair.

Close-up of one of Aleijadinho's typical angels.

While the mining industry in the area is still active - aluminum, iron, bauxite, manganese, topaz, and soapstone are all considered local resources - the main industry is tourism.  And Ouro Preto does tourism well.  Aside from the churches, there are several great museums, including the Museu de Ciência e Técnica da Escola de Minas where one can learn about and see a plethora of rocks, gems, and metals mined locally and abroad.  As fun as looking at rocks sounds, it's a really impressive museum.  Another place worth visiting is the Museu Casa dos Contos, a transformed mansion that served as both a jail and a treasury building.

Inside the Gem Room of the Museu de Ciência e Técnica da Escola de Minas

I got a mini-lesson in gemology from a local jeweler: on the right is the
unrefined topaz, and two examples of polished topaz. About $100USD each.

If I am ever in the region again, I will definitely make stop here.  There are couple museums I didn't get to, as well as a gold mine outside of town.  But there is also something to be said for just taking aimless strolls, tripping over uneven cobbled streets, getting lost in colonial back alleys...and time.

InstaOuroPreto?
Praça Tiradente from the window of the Museu de Ciência eTécnica
da Escola de Minas

Praça Tiradentes, again.
The monument in the center of the Plaza marks the spot
where Tiradente's head was displayed on a pole after the
failed revolutionary coup in the later 1700's.
Vem pra rua?

The "game room" of the restored mansion, now the
Museu Casa dos Contos.

Soapstone souvenirs galore!

Europe or Brazil? 

Another reason to come back to Ouro Preto.
(It's hard to find good beer in Brazil.)

Don't Be Stupid, Stupid

Sometimes not being politically correct at all times can be refreshing.  At the risk of making a huge generalizing statement, Latin American culture is good at "calling a spade a spade."  I credit this to the structure of the language - both Spanish and Portuguese are very open with the adjectives-as-nouns concept.  Sometimes this directness spills into other areas of life.

I recently visited Campinas' Bosque do Jequitiba, a park and zoo in the center of the city.  The park was beautiful; the zoo was sad.  The only not sad animals were the free-roaming agoutis (called cutia in Brazil), a rabbit-sized rodent that looks like the cross between a hamster, a deer, and a kangaroo.

But I digress.  My favorite part of the zoo was this sign:

You dumb.

Apparently there is a problem with people throwing food - and, I imagine, other objects - at/to the animals.  The sign says that "throwing objects into the cages of the animals means" several characteristic things, several of them include attributes of throwers themselves.  In terms of blunt honesty that probably wouldn't appear in the US, for example, is number one, which states that, as a thrower of objects, you "lack education."  In other words, you are uneducated.  In more other words, "you are stupid."

I do not disagree with this point.  However, I do feel there is a risk that those "lacking in education" will not (or can not) read the posting to begin with. Same goes for comprehending Number 5: "an insurmountable irrationality."  Those be some smart folk words right there.

Sigh...it's about respect, stupid!

The Place for Porcelain

Palm tree sweaters.
It's a thing.

Monte Sião is a small town about a hundred kilometers from Campinas, across the state border in Minas Gerais.  While not a major tourist destination, it is known locally for its many sweater and knitted-goods shops and a renowned porcelain factory.  The former is not so much because Monte Sião is particularly cold - it's not - but because of the sheep industry surrounding the town.  One older lady, knitting next to her kiosk of scarves and shawls informed me that there are "three thousand wool shops in the town."  While this number may not be exactly official, after walking around a bit, she may not be far off.

Our reason for visiting was for the porcelain, however.  The Porcelana Monte Sião Ltda. factory, founded in 1959, is world-famous for its blue and white hand-painted pieces, though brown and white and plain white versions are also produced. Being a Saturday the factory was not functioning, but we were free to wander through and see the different pieces in their various states of readiness.  And, of course, there was some consumerism to occupy ourselves with, as well!

Monte Sião Porcelain

The town was originally known as Arraial do Jabuticabal, but was changed in 1850 at the suggestion of Franciscan missionaries who thought the area resembled the biblical "Mont Sion."  Since then the name has changed slightly to accommodate the local language, however, the semblance remains.

Exploring the factory

The finished product!

Only A Little Crazy

Inspiring or ominous?The race's starting point.
The inscription beneath the obelisk
reads: "They lived a little to die well.
They died young to live forever."

Anyone truly wishing to "get in touch with their inner self" ought to just run a marathon.  At one point or another, all of your selves will make an appearance, often at the same time, though many don't have the discipline to stick around too long.

Rest assured, they're all there!  The enthusiastic "this is so much fun" voice.  The competitive one. The pessimistic "this sucks" side of your brain - mine has quite the potty mouth - and its good friend the self-destructive, cynical voice who tells you you're not prepared, points out every ache and its potential for fatality, but who usually peaces out after you finally break through "the wall."  There's the rational one who negotiates with you when you don't want to run up that hill at kilometer 37, saying that if you make it halfway, then you can speed-walk to the crest.

And I have the reflective one who is composing this blogpost in real time, making observations along the way.  Sometimes this voice in annoying - I mean, seriously, can you please focus!  Other times it has a humorous side.  I mean, I think it does, but then I'm often strapped for oxygen to my brain so, it's questionable.

The Octavio Frias de Oliveira Bridge:
An impressive piece of art and engineering.

Some notable observations from the 2013 São Paulo Marathon:

• The Octavio Frias de Oliveira Bridge is one of the city's iconic landmarks.  The race ran underneath and then across it. Mostly because occurred a mere 10 kilometers into the race, it was spectacular.  However, in mentally preparing myself for the return trip on the out and back course, I wanted nothing more than to "not see that @#%!*$ bridge again." We didn't, so I'm glad I was in better spirits when we did cross it.
• Usually I spend time composing a playlist that collectively builds in tempo as the race progresses, for pacing purposes.  Then there's some aggressive hip-hip, rock, or reggaeton in the middle with some inspirational wailing songs at the end.  This time I simply threw a bunch of the normal fare into a playlist and hit random.  They didn't always work out, but Gym Class Heroes' "The Fighter," Mase's "Breathe, Stretch, Shake" (old school, I know), Pink's "Try," and Jonny Lang's new "Blew Up the House" helped me out a lot.  In addition, though it came at the beginning when I didn't need it, Christina Aguilera's new "We Remain" (from the upcoming Hunger Games sequel) is amazing.
• Oh, yes!  Goo!  I love goo!  Chocolate?!?  Blech!  Seriously?  Not while I'm sweaty, exhausted, and parched.  Never then.  Ever.  Why does that flavor even exist in goo?  
• Around kilometer 18 I remember distinctly thinking that this had to be the sunniest day to ever occur in São Paulo history.  I'm reminded of this now as my face emanates heat.  Isn't São Paulo grey pretty much always?  Rainy or grey.  I thought that was the deal.  Hmm...
• Runners are always anxious to see where they will hit "the wall."  I thought I hit it at around kilometer 25.  Wrong.  That was a ledge.  Kilometer 30 was the wall.  Needless to say, the intervening five kilometers were a huge let-down.
• Also, right around hitting "the wall," the good people handing out water and other refueling goods, were distributing baby potatoes.  Is this a thing?  Really?  Really. I didn't eat them.  I did stuff them in my back pocket to take a picture later, under less distressing circumstances.
• There was the older woman handing out orange slices somewhere along kilometer 36 who awkwardly chased me down to ask where I was from.  When I told her, she responded with, "Oh, foreigners are the only ones who say 'Thank you'."  How nice?  (And, yes, an old lady was able to keep pace with me while holding a bucket of orange slices.)
• After a while you kind of keep passing and getting passed by the same dozen or so people.  They become your "rabbits" and you, theirs.  You exchange places based on if you physically stop at watering stations or simply because of your general fluctuating states of dying.  Yellow Shirt and I were playing switcheroo for nearly all the second half, until I eventually lost sight of him after a few walking episodes.  Then on the last half-kilometer, I saw him up ahead.  The competitive side of me would like to be able to say I chased him down.  That would be a lie.  I was not capable of moving any faster than what I was already doing.  Yellow Shirt, on the other hand, was toast.  Dude was done.  And I passed him.  I didn't even need to try and I kind of felt guilty.  Not guilty that I passed him, but that it took no extra effort; it was basically the marathon equivalent of a mercy kill.

Me talking to myself is no longer
the craziest part of this post.

In the end, I crossed the finish line in 3 hours 24 minutes and 41 seconds. The last full marathon I ran was Duluth, Minnesota's Grandma's Marathon in a PR time of 3:24:36 in June of 2009.  I will admit to being under-trained for this one, but, four and half years later, I'm impressed and pleased with the result!  Only five seconds slower; in the marathon world I think that's a tie!

It wouldn't be a real marathon without leaving
a few toenails behind, now would it?!?

Preach.

Running with the Night

The strangest part of doing a road race at night wasn't the time of the day.  It was figuring out what to do to prepare myself, physiologically, for the timing of the event.  Normally races begin in the morning.  I think about what I should eat the night before, when to wake up, what to eat for breakfast, and the ever-important timing of bathroom/biffy trips.

Night races throw those factors for a bit of a loop. Fortunately, not one that resulted in some unfortunate incident.

The Night Run - Campinas race took place at 8pm on a Saturday, with a course that looped around my preferred running route, the large Parque Portugal, more commonly referred to as Lagoa do Taquaral (Taquaral Lake).  There were 5K and 10K options and I opted for the later.  I honestly cannot remember the last time I raced such a "short" distance, but it was fun to mix it up and nice to do it on such familiar terrain where I knew every incline and curve.

I finished with a time of 43:51 minutes for the 10K and am pretty happy with that!  This put me at 41st overall and 13th in the 30-35 age bracket. 

There was a lot of yellow going on.

The race began, as all road races do, with a significant amount of weaving until people settle in to their appropriate pace-groups.  Since the 5K racers did one lap of the park and the 10Kers did two, the pack was thinning as we got near the end of the first loop, as the runners near me were either 10K racers keeping my pace or 5K champs keeping a decent clip.  I assumed the roads would be as clear and open for the rest of the time, but as I approach the second half of the second lap - kilometer 7ish for me - I encountered an ever-thickening group of 5K...walkers.  Walkers.  This got progressively worse as we neared the finish and the weaving recommenced.

Seriously, who enters a 5K race if you're going to be walking by kilometer 3?  If this were a charity run, I get it.  But you just paid at least $40USD to walk in the dark in an ugly yellow shirt.  Really?!?  And this wasn't just a few people; this is a collective couple kilometers of weaveable people we're talking about. 

With my friend, Claudia, post-race.

Add that to the list of things I don't get about Brazil.  (Along with why the name of the race was in English.  Incidentally, in Portuguese it's pronounced "ny-chee hoon.")

Either way, it was a well-run event and I enjoyed the novelty of night racing.  I would definitely consider doing another!

I should add this to my playlist...

Progress Report

As I start my second year in Campinas and Brazil I look back at some of the goals I had when I first touched down in São Paulo 12 months ago.  I did not accomplish all the goals I had set for myself, and as busy as last year was, I am okay with that:

• Learn Portuguese - Check (?) ...mais o menos. Always in progress!
• Dance samba - I have gone to samba clubs a couple times, need to make more effort to truly learn and not just slip into salsa.
• Make a delicious caipirinha myself - As delicious as these are, I try to avoid them for the instant rassaca they give me so this goal is not one I'm motivated to achieve...we'll see.
• Find a guitar teacher (preferably with limited English) -  Before 2014 it will happen.
• Get a bike and then bike to work - Not a goal at the moment.
• Volunteer - Check!  Co-sponsored a school Social Justice Club working with kids in a favela.
• Find and run a marathon within 12 months of arrival - Check...kind of.  Find?  Yes.  Register?  Yes.  Train for?  Yes.  Marathon postponed until October 2013?  Also, yes.  So...pending.
• Get back in the pool - Not a goal at the moment.
• 52 in 52 - Check!

Two original goals are no longer logical or logistical, however, I may decide to refocus on them in the future, so, I will leave them on the master list.  Without Portuguese class twice a week in the evenings anymore, I plan to replace that with guitar classes.

So, what do you do when you've crossed off goals?  You make more!

• Travel more! 
• Present at a PD Workshop
• Finish four Masters classes
• Get World Cup tickets to see Selección Colombia