Exploring Brasilia North

There is a lot of blogging that does not get done when I am trying to write something serious. I am currently writing a piece for an Italian magazine, something about Brasilia and transformation. So I open my eyes a little more these days when I drive around.
Today I was in Asa Norte, and somewhat got a better feeling about the city, about the planning and its general intentions. It would be this idea of common areas where people share public equipments and time, I guess. Yet I am still unconvinced by the scale of all this. Parking takes over most of the center of the housing blocs. And that green without really any landscaping ends up looking like a no-mans-land rather than a place.

Another Sushi Night

I have previously posted about the intricacies of being a multicultural family, a multilingual one and of dual religious roots. Often as parents it is difficult to know what is best for our kids, yet it is also possible to use our instinct to determine what are our priorities.
So far in terms of religion, I assumed the awareness of both religions' holidays and traditions would be important for them, so that they can feel at home and comfortable in both world, in both cultures. I have also made the effort to connect them to the judaic traditions, as it they are more complex and certainly less mainstream than the christian ones. I guess I measured my success when around Christmas time, while walking in a mall, Noam asked me why there was a baby lying under a decorated tree. I had obviously some explaining to do to catch up on that other end.
But if these questions arose, it is mainly because Brazil is a very religious country. Faith is present in a large number of churches of all denominations, Christian being the main one. Saints are given holidays and festivals, street and city's names.  In our travels, we have encountered and visited numbers of chapels, churches and altars. And the language includes numerous reference to god.
Despite the importance of Christianity, the Brazilian Jewish history started with the portuguese  inquisition in the 16th century. And Sao Paolo is home to the largest Jewish community in the country. But Brasilia is home to a rather a small one, and the young rabbi and his wife hold the services in their house. For Purim, they had organized the traditional torah reading along with a great sushi buffet. We joined our Israeli friends, who promised us better sushi. In fact, it was not only the food which was good, but the welcome and the ambiance, more relaxed and casual than other communities.

Night Out

Despite having a very amazing babysitting, we are not going out enough. Most of the time, we tour our friends places for more BBQ and social evenings. Not doubt, they are always enjoyable. Consequently, when we drive "to town" for a nice meal just for the two of us, it is quite special. Last night we felt like sushi. (Asia saudade?) And since we could not recall where was the good sushi in town, we landed on a random one. And consequently were disappointed. I mean, sashimi should not try to become ceviche, and cream cheese should stay at the breakfast table.

It is almost unmistakable, our random restaurants trials are usually a fail. If that would be only that, we could keep on trying until success, but the price tags are often Ritziesque. In most cases, the meals are overcooked, meat well overdone, full of creamy sauce, with few overcooked greens. Whether it is a typical Brazilian dish, or a French or an Italian one. Or even a Chinese one. The most practical and safe way to eat out is the buffet by the weight. But for dinner, I can't resolve myself to the cafeteria ambiance. Yeap, call me snob just for that.
It is not only the way the food is prepared that is sad, it is often the lack of imagination in the types of produces used and dishes made. Despite all the goodies this country produces, it is often surprising that people have not developed a more evolved taste buds. Our gardener needs to have his feijao (beans) and rice, she cooks him that daily. Maybe this situation is similar to the Quebecers' in the fifties. It must be just a matter of time to see some evolution. 
For us, our excuse for being "food snob" is this common love of food we share. I am pretty sure my cooking skills helped sealing our deal. Further, for my Israeli husband good food means mezzes and fresh produces and a gazzilions of different traditional ethnic dishes of several origins. For me, it is translated by a family affair with food, where meals are often homegrown, discussed and prepared together. And Beijing was for both of us a smorgasbord of flavors and produces far superior to any other places we lived in before. Chinese food is by far more varied than one could ever imagine. And the vibrant Beijing food scene is home to some of the best tables of Asia. And while we tested some (most) of them, we also loved the little unknown corner stall, where we would discover some amazing specialities.
That said, to be fair, we have discovered a few yummy addresses in Brasilia. I will report, I promise. I guess I just miss the infinite freedom of amazing food choices we had in our Beijing alleys.
For those readers who love typical Brazilian food, I would assume you either have Brazilian blood, or were raised here. And if it is not the case, I am ready to offer you a home cooked meal in lieu of apologies. Just email me.

It is All in the Icing

We are just returning from another birthday party. Again. This one, thrown by an expat mom, was low-key with a nice gathering of select parents and kids (as opposed to the entire class).
The memorable moment was the cake. The bakery forgot to make the poor kid's cake and the parents had to rush over there to collect something. They came back with some superb tier cake, with the theme of jungle animals. Very cute. When the cake was finally cut, the crowd realized that a huge portion, a entire tier of it, was fake. It was styrofoam covered in icing.
It kind of left me thinking: an amazing look, yet so hollow. I hope that this cake is not the metaphor of our brazilian connections.
People are often so unnaturally nice here. They get out of their way to help us. They are always pleasant when you talk to them. They are nice and patients in ways that feel sometimes totally unreal. I mean, in Israel, someone (or many) would loose patience after waiting 30 min in the fast lane at the grocery store because the lady is chatting away. I mean, in Canada, someone would get fired for incompetence.
This cake made me wonder about what is a facade here. We have fences in front of our houses, and secret ones in front of our hearts. Are the fences of the brazilian their niceness? Will I get to know them better? To really meet them? For who they are, without the fluff and the frizz?

Playdates

With the help of online groups, I was able to connect with a group of very interesting women. They have organized weekly get-togethers, where kids play while moms chat away. There is of course a few obligatory expats from the diplomatic corps, but a majority are either foreigner with a Brazilian spouse  or Brazilian with a mix background (dual citizenship,  parents of mixed origins or past expatriation experience). It makes for lively conversations and a fun time. This week it was our turn to host. I pulled the black tarp on our front yard/hill, every time it is a huge hit with the kids.

Where Am I?

Sometimes flashbacks of a previous life assault me. At first glance, not many things would confuse me as whether I am here in Brazil or there in China. Yet at times, the other side of the world winks at me.
For example the other day I walked by a store on the W3 and saw a kitchen tool I needed, so I walked in to buy it: a battery-operated vinaigrette mixer. No comments please. As it was there on the shelf, and I walked in with the intention of spending less than 5 minutes in there, just enough time for the transaction to be validated on my card. Oh! what was I thinking again? A staff had to get a new box downstairs. Then record in one computer what I am buying. And ask me for my CPF and my complete address and all sort of very important details. And then send me over to another cashier, who would find my order in the system, pull it out, and complete the sale and print a few tickets. Then I would need to go back to the first counter, where upon presentation one of these coupons I would retrieve my purchase. Nothing short of 30 minutes.
Although the speed of the cashiers are not comparable, the process was similar in China when making purchases in department stores. Exasperating.

I found a number of other strange similarities with China:
- In a chicken purchased at the grocery store, I found not only its gibbets but also its feet!
- There rice is a staple here. Required by everyone for every meal. Ok, granted, it is not the same type and accompanied by much different fare. But no one would discuss the importance of this grain in these two cultures.
- One other thing that I found striking when comparing those two country-continents was the importance of the "face". We ear often about the Chinese face, and how messages might be conveyed in a rather indirect way, just to avoid de-facing an interlocutor. Surprisingly enough, the Brazilian will also take great lengths to convey their negative message in the less possibly direct way, wanting to preserve their relationships and the person their are dealing with. Like China, Brazil is a country where connections are essential to for many things in life.
- Generally, both Chinese and Brazilian are bad drivers. On this I might post more extensively later.
There has been a number of other "flashes" but for now I will leave you with this.

If I Could Fly

We are just returning from a very interesting exhibition at the CCBB. What an interesting guy. When we lived in Beijing, my students had mentioned this guy who was building the strangest robots, robots that were more like themselves references to art movements: Cai Guo Qiang (蔡国强). His work was installed here in Brasilia. In fact there was several parts to this exhibition. The first one was presenting these funny (and at times spooky) rough-looking animated robots; painting, pulling a rickshaw, playing chess, barking, walking around, spitting water. Emmanuel did not really like this hooded one, which admittedly had the feel of some kind of horror movie when walking rigidly towards him. The staff was having a kick at following small kids around with its tele-guided puppet. Thankfully my son did not have nightmares.

A large room was dedicated to CGQ's "paintings" with gunpowder. As a child who witness the Cultural Revolution, CGQ grew up in a setting where both fireworks and cannon blasts were common. This work is certainly a way to channel those memories. The artist had initially laid large canvasses in the outdoor covered space in the garden, where some tiered stands were installed for the public to witness the performance. Under the canvasses, with specific care, he would lay down certain quantities of gunpowder in specific patterns, and eventually set it in fire that he and a number of his assistant would put out. The walls of this room where we watch a video of this where covered with the results of his experiment.

The last portion of the exhibition was CGQ's curated collection of flying and floating machines and devices made by various unknown peasants in rural China. All this handmade machines presented there at one point flew or floated, which is pretty amazing when you start thinking about it. I really like the story of this one machine who was saved by CGQ and some villagers, as the wife of the constructor was furiously destroying the machine to burn it, upset that her husband wasting all their small income on the construction of devices such as this one.