On Not Being Alone in Rio

This year has been full of travel and excitement for me. At the end of March, I moved to a new apartment after thirteen years in my old one. Five days after moving, I went to Germany, where I had never been, to visit my niece and her husband and their new baby, my most darling little great-nephew.

Three days ago, I came back from another trip, this one to South America, where I had also never been. I can't even describe how exciting and fun and beautiful it was. I was lucky enough to get sent to a conference in Rio de Janeiro, had a little time to do sightseeing there and to fall in love with the city, then went off on an adventure with some friends, flying first to Iguazu Falls, a magnificent and mesmerizing natural spectacle on the border of Brazil and Argentina, where we spent a day and a half, and then to Buenos Aires for five days. I had fun for ten days straight, got to speak Spanish, tried to speak Portuguese, met lots of great people both at the conference and in the places we visited. I talked to taxi drivers, shopkeepers, artisans, waiters, anyone I could. My friends were the same way. Two of them were native Spanish speakers, and one of the two also spoke Portuguese, so we had a whole mixture of languages going.

One day, in Rio, I had some time by myself, and I decided to go up to Sugarloaf, a mountain that overlooks the city (following the suggestion of a notable Brazilian blogger--thanks, Lilian!). Waiting on a long line to take the tram up the mountain, I got acquainted with a Brazilian couple in front of me. Through a combination of Spanish, Portuguese, English, and gestures, we managed to reassure each other that, yes, this seemed to be the right place to wait because the other line was for people who lived in the area. They offered me some biscuits from a bag they had just bought from a vendor. I told them where I was from, and I learned that they were from Sao Paulo, and had come to Rio for the weekend, for a wedding. They seemed happy about the occasion and about getting away together and about how beautiful and sunny the day was. And they were happy to share the day with me; at one point when we might have separated, after buying tickets to go on the tram, they made sure to wait for me. They were so affectionate with each other, hugging and kissing frequently, that I assumed they were a couple early on in a relationship, on a date. But, no, they had been married for fifteen years, it turned out. I realized they were married when Nelson, the husband, said, in English, that his wife was fearful of going up in the tram. Then he told me how long they had been married. I said, in Spanish, that they seemed very happy. Yes, Nelson said, they were.

While we were still waiting for the tram, I was telling them all about how I was in Rio with some friends and we were going to travel together to Argentina. I think I was trying to say all this in Spanish so it was a little laborious. Then Nelson interrupted me to ask, in English, "Where are your friends now? You are alone." I was startled, but started off on another whole explanation, well, they had something else to do today, they had done their sightseeing earlier...

Nelson interrupted me again. "You are with God," he said, gesturing at the grandeur of the mountain, the blue of the sky. Then he added, "And nature."

I thought that seemed right.


On the ground



The view from Morro da Urca, first stop on the tram


From Sugarloaf (this one and the one below)