Brazil loves meat. I think it is as safe a generalization as I can make.
Wendy and I do not. This, I guess, is a safer generalization; mainly owing to the fact that it is in no way a generalization.
Wendy and I do not speak much Portuguese. Brazilians do. They speak a fast, rhythmic happy amazing Portuguese.
We landed in Brazil not knowing how to say hello. Well, we know how to say "hello," We did not know how to say hello in Portuguese. Silly.
We did land hungry. Ordering food in a place that loves a food that you do not eat where you do not know how to say hello is always fun. How's that for an awkwardly worded too long sentence, Mrs. Moore? Where's your red pen now? (Breathe.)
In Japan, they often have pictures or models of the food outside the restaurant. This has the two awesome effects of informing pedestrians what food is served and allowing foreigners to order in sign language.
In Brazil we were not afforded that luxury. Eventually, we would learn the words for meat and chicken and fish and ham so that we could order food without these. We found that not specifying all would often result in getting the unspecified variety of meat.
The first meal in Brasilia we tried to communicate that we are vegetarian. I did a mean chicken dance and cow and pig with the cross armed gesture. I am really good at charades. But, I did not actually do this.
However, going back to Japan, there was a time when I embarrassed myself and America (don't worry, I pretended to be Canadian) by communicating with a shopkeeper my daughter's need to use a bathroom through charades. The shop keep was not a good guesser, which let me to more and more embarrassing extremes.
I tried my best to explain our dietary preference to the patient Brazilian waitress and then ordered food that I thought would be safe. We received a beautiful croissant filled with ham bits and rice and black beans soaked in bacon.
From Dom Bosco Cathedral in Brasilia.
BLUE LILY | Lifestyle Photographer | Salt Lake City, Utah