My parents came to visit for two weeks. We had a great time. I think this is probably the first time they actually had nothing to do if that was what they wanted. We went to Rio so my mom could cry at the Christ statue. We sat on the beach where my parents, for the first time, drank beer on the beach. And guess what, people bring it to you! You don't have to go get or anything at all! Awesome! We went to the local street market to buy food. We went to a craft bazaar. We went to delicious restaurants. We went to the flower market to buy 4 dozen roses for US$15. My parents found out that the flowers are probably the only cheap thing here. You can't even buy flip flops for US$15, but you can buy dozens of roses! Well my house smells good even if our feet don't look pretty. By now you are probably wondering how I got the title though. Well there are two stories to this, hence the twice.
Story one:
To visit Brazil you need a tourist visa. It never used to be like this. However, ever since 9-11 the US has required many countries to need visas if their countrymen want to visit. Brazil is one of those. So in the style of an eye for an eye, Brazil now requires a visa for all Americans. Well, my dad couldn't find the information online, but the Brazilian Consulate in his town is right down the street from his work. So he decided to go and find out how to get one. So he arrives. And it really just looks like an office building. He walks in and goes to the counter to ask questions. The lady behind the counter starts yelling at him. Well, he says he is trying to get a tourist visa. She does not care. He must leave immediately. Kind of like the Amityville Horror house "Get Out!" Now there is a gentleman and a lady sitting in the chairs behind my dad. And this guy is chuckling. My dad turns around and asks what he did. The response: "Well you stepped over the line." What line? Yes, my dad visited Brazil without having a visa, because he could not figure out how to get one and was asking. That is a BIG no-no. However, he was not allowed to ask in Brazil (the other side of the room), he needed to ask from America (the other other side of the room). Needless to say he was given the web address and escorted by guard out of Brazil (really just the Consulate room) and back to America.
Story two:
My parents had a hard time initially listening to my cautions regarding safety. They were taking pictures in the Taxi. They were taking pictures on the street. And they are lucky someone did not come along and steal that camera the first few days! And they also spoke English where I told them not to. This is hard to remember, I know. But there are several places here that when you speak English you become a target. I don't want to become a target, nor do I want my kids as targets for bad people. So we speak English very softly when we are out and about. Luckily enough nothing happened while my parents were here. However, while taking pictures my dad thought it would be a great idea to take a picture of the ATMs we have here. It is actually a kiosk that you enter, with a door for privacy, and get your money. Well he was not actually taking a picture of the ATM because you could not see it through the door. He was taking a picture of the stickers on the outside of the ATM. Why? No clue. He thought it was cool that they had stickers of VISA, Mastercard, PlusLink, and that sort of thing. O-kay. Well, the crime de jour here is blowing up ATMs for the money. A few weeks ago 12 guys decided to blow one up. The cops shot and killed 6 and the other 6 were arrested. Well, my dad took the picture in front of a security guard. Hmm, is he scoping the joint? Let's put it this way, my dad would have had a hole in him if that guard had a gun.
But we did have a great time. They got to see how tough my life is here. Ha-ha. I do miss them. My house was so quiet this morning.
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