<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:13:04.924Z</updated><title type='text'>com leite frio</title><subtitle type='html'>Mastering Portuguese and Samba in Salvador (Brazil) for the entire month of July 2007.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-6741990865708296487</id><published>2007-09-06T12:49:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T13:40:13.058+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in good old Blighty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm home!  Well, I have been since the wee hours of Wednesday morning, but I've finally recovered and unpacked and resumed my life of watching mysteries and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tribe&lt;/span&gt; on the telly.  One day, I'll make the incredibly treacherous journey to the ne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;arest &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Boots&lt;/span&gt; to give in my films for processing, so I'll soon be able to complete my very impressive summer photo album!   Can't wait!  Especially as it will be a welcome distraction from the reading I'm doing at the moment.  All very complex stuff about &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;folding DNA to create nanoscale shapes&lt;/span&gt;...origami basically, but with strands of DNA instead of bits of paper.  It's all very exciting, but as soon as I move away from the abstract of a paper, and into the nitty-gritty, I get a tad confused and need to refer to Wikipedia.  Oh, the shame!  University does&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;n't start until October I believe, and I'm in the process of sorting out where I'm going to be living.  Until then, I shall be in London, so if anyone wishes to meet up for a drinkie or two, then let me know.  Do beware that I have now got about £10 in my bank account, and a few Euro cents somewhere, so it'll have to be a traditional studenty event!!  I can't wait to get paid!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, Barcelona, how did that turn out?  Pretty nicely.  The weather was good for most of the holiday, though I found evenings a little chilly.  The food was yummy, especially for someone who loves chips with ketchup (the Spanish version is &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;patatas bravas&lt;/span&gt;)!  I am a little sad that I didn't eat any &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;manchego y membrillo&lt;/span&gt; (cheese and quince jelly), because it's one of my favourite tapas.  Oh well, maybe I can find some in the Harvey Nichols food hall!   Oscar had researched some cool and funky places to get food in the city, and we found&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; some of them but they were often a little pricey.  Still, there were wacky places in the gothic part of the centre, and we gave them a whirl.  We found this amazing ice-cream/waffle parlour, where they claimed to have "50 unusual flavours of ice-cream", and it was true!!  They even had &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;acai&lt;/span&gt; flavour, which of course I had to have as I have been craving the pots of acai I u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sed to eat in Brazil.  It was soooo good!  We visited a strange sweet shop where they had sweets in every fruity flavour you could expect, packaged in space-food type plastic bags.  One street was basically a chocolate-lover's paradise, and I wanted to buy some samples, but I was penniless :-(  There was a funky cookie shop too that caught our eye, but if the cookies weren't filled with chocolate, then they were filled with weird cheese or herbs.  I didn't like that - I just wanted a &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ben's Cookies&lt;/span&gt; cookie!  Gosh, I've gone on about food for ages...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/Rt_02PbetAI/AAAAAAAAAA8/THKVwcJc9OA/s1600-h/DSC01090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/Rt_02PbetAI/AAAAAAAAAA8/THKVwcJc9OA/s320/DSC01090.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107069715153335298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip was a very cultured one.  We must have visited at least a dozen, if not more, art galleries/museums.  One of my favourites was the &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Picasso&lt;/span&gt; gallery, because it was very thorough in explaining the various phases the artist went through to get to being one of the most celebrated modern artists in the world.  It also explained how he was influenced by other artists while he stayed in Paris, and it was great to actually be able to see that admiration in his work.  A lot of the big and famous paintings from the cubist period were missing from the gallery, as they are dotted all over the world, but I preferred it that way.  He's not just about the Weeping Woman after all.  Another thing I enjoyed was the temporary exhibition at &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;MNAC&lt;/span&gt; called &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;El Cartell Modern&lt;/span&gt;, which included a selection of modern posters by European anc American artists such as Cheret, Mucha and Steinlen.  I really hope a collection like this is exhibited in London soon, because it was fascinating.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come back filled with good food, ice-cream and art.  I couldn't have dreamed of a better short European holiday.  Thanks to Oscar for planning it all :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-6741990865708296487?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6741990865708296487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6741990865708296487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/09/back-in-good-old-blighty.html' title='Back in good old Blighty'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/Rt_02PbetAI/AAAAAAAAAA8/THKVwcJc9OA/s72-c/DSC01090.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-893061994579494471</id><published>2007-09-02T18:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T13:33:32.505+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Five days later, and still no Manchego :-(</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hola!  Oscar and I have been in Barcelona for 5 days now, and it has been a pretty packed holiday so far (as is our way!).  Of course, there has been much walking up hills, and rides on funiculars, and eating of ice-creams, and we´re both having fun.  So far, we´ve seen a couple of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gaudí&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; buildings, walked around the &lt;strong&gt;Gothic&lt;/strong&gt; part of the city A LOT and tried to avoid the grotty La Rambla as much as possible.  Yesterday we took a trip to &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Monserrat&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, which is a mountain 60km away from the centre of Barcelona where apparently, many moons ago some man saw a vision of the Virgin Mary, and so now has become quite a popular destination for pilgrims and tourists alike.  We ventured up to the top of the mountain, and it felt like we we´re on top of the world!  The food in Monserrat was, however, largely disappointing :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today we had a deserved lie-in and then decided to go to the Miró art gallery, but after a little trek uphill, we discovered it had just closed for the day.  So we went for a walk up &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Montjuïc&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, where we had great views of the city, and found a funky place for a refreshing drink.  We wanted to go on a cable-car ride too, but it was too expensive :-(  But when we got back to town, we had a nice cake, so that made it better.  Sundays are pretty dull days here because everything is pretty much closed, so unless you really like window-shopping or sitting around, there isn´t all that much to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh my gosh!  Today, there was a naked man on La Rambla.  And I mean naked.  He had tattoo'd shorts on, and his willy was hanging out for everyone to see.  It´s so bizarre.  We also saw a food establishment called "Punjabi Bar".  Enough said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-893061994579494471?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/893061994579494471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/893061994579494471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/09/five-days-later-and-still-no-manchego.html' title='Five days later, and still no Manchego :-('/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-1855080755989884153</id><published>2007-08-28T20:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T20:34:10.434+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Senhor!  Uma sangria, por favor!  Pronto!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RtR2vfbes-I/AAAAAAAAAAs/ZMRzkLb4g3o/s1600-h/SP_A0119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RtR2vfbes-I/AAAAAAAAAAs/ZMRzkLb4g3o/s320/SP_A0119.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103834835980301282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RtR32fbes_I/AAAAAAAAAA0/V5m4Uolq-L4/s1600-h/SP_A0090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RtR32fbes_I/AAAAAAAAAA0/V5m4Uolq-L4/s320/SP_A0090.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103836055751013362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Weeeeeee!  It's time for the third holiday!  Yup, tomorrow I'm jetting off to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Barcelona&lt;/span&gt; (British Airways this time, praise the Lord), for a week of &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;sunshine, sangria and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sagrada Familia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!  Woo!  Being at home for the last two weeks has been strange.  I've developed a terrible routine of watching certain television programmes every weekday, and very occasionally venturing away from the sofa to do some learning.  It will be nice to go out and about and not worry about how much each journey on the public transport is draining my funds!  Also, today, I saw a woman who challenged a 15 year-old bus-fare avoider be spat in the face.  That kind of behaviour, along with the random shootings and stabbing at the otherwise peaceful (and very enjoyable!) &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Notting Hill Carnival&lt;/span&gt; yesterday, make you wish you were one of the 196,000 Britons leaving the country for good.  As I can't afford to emigrate just yet, a holiday will have to suffice.  I'm quite looking forward to being able to comprehend Spanish at last too, as Portuguese and Spanish are not too dissimilar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RtR2Ifbes8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/KH256TaHzU0/s1600-h/SP_A0127.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RtR2Ifbes8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/KH256TaHzU0/s320/SP_A0127.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103834165965403074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;I will be meeting Oscar over there, as he's already holidaying in Marbella, and since Spain is his territory he has been assigned all planning duties.  Hence, I'm not sure what to expect.  Some people tell me that Barcelona is lovely, others say beware of the freshies (i.e. people, usually men, fresh off the boat from a lesser country) and prostitutes around &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Las Ramblas&lt;/span&gt;.  Hmmmmm.  As long as it isn't a Spanish version of the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pelourinho&lt;/span&gt;, I think I'll have a good time.   Now all I need to do is pack...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-1855080755989884153?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1855080755989884153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1855080755989884153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/08/senhor-uma-sangria-por-favor-pronto.html' title='Senhor!  Uma sangria, por favor!  Pronto!'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RtR2vfbes-I/AAAAAAAAAAs/ZMRzkLb4g3o/s72-c/SP_A0119.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-8672615127387455726</id><published>2007-08-17T11:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T12:07:49.434+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Istanbul: the highs and the lows</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RsWBaruZpcI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7_dxFKUqsTE/s1600-h/n222402564_1591108_583.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RsWBaruZpcI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7_dxFKUqsTE/s320/n222402564_1591108_583.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099624448480880066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Okay, I've been a little lazy and not updated this here blog in a while.  Apologies to all my fans.  I returned from Istanbul a few days ago, and since then have been...ahem....extremely busy.  Oh ok, I've just been bumming around my house, but relaxing is a full time job!  The last time I wrote here I was half way through my holiday in Istanbul, and the second half was equally as fun and bizarre.  Instead of detailing everything we did over there, I thought I would summarise what I thought were the best and worst bits.  Overall, I really enjoyed the holiday, but unlike many of the places in the world I have visited and become besotted with, Turkey is certainly one place I would never want to live in and possibly never visit again.  Although very pretty and historically rich, it is a somewhat confused land, filled with inequality, racism, identity-crisis (are they European or Asian?) and way too much meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;The highs:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Blue Mosque. &lt;/span&gt; I don't care what people say, but I think this mosque is much more pretty and grand than the &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aya Sofya&lt;/span&gt; over the road.  I know that architecturally the Aya Sofya was a ground-breaker, but I think the Blue Mosque has a sort of tranquility and sereneness about it, while it's rival felt colder and hostile.   Maybe it's because the Blue Mosque is still used by hundreds of people to pray in, whereas the Aya Sofya is nothing more than a cash-hungry tourist attraction.  A little fact for you: the mosque acquired its informal name due to the tens of thousands of handmade blue tiles that decorate the interior.  Amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Grand Bazaar. &lt;/span&gt; There are over 4000 shops and several kilometres of lanes in the covered market, and it felt like we visited them all.  We certainly got lost in the maze of shops a few times.  Bargaining is pretty easy, as most of the shopkeepers speak English/Spanish, and so you can purchase wares at reasonable prices.  We picked up a few things for our future house :-)  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Interesting discovery: you get lower prices if you speak Spanish than if you speak English.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karadeniz Aile Pide Ve Kebap Salonu. &lt;/span&gt; So good we frequented it twice, this was the place to go to get a tasty pide and some "poofy bread" to dip into your houmous.  The waiters were also very keen to promote how romantic it was to eat at the restaurant (i.e. they lit a tea-light on the table). &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dolmabahce Palace. &lt;/span&gt; An imperial pleasure palace with neo-classical exterior and tremendously over-the-top interior.  Inside the highlights include chandeliers weighing 2000kg, and a crystal staircase.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kariye Muzesi.&lt;/span&gt;  Once the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Church of the Holy Saviour Outside the Walls,&lt;/span&gt; it served as a mosque for four centuries and is now a museum.  It is filled with amazing frescoes and mosaics depicting various biblical stories.  It's over 1000 years old and in really good condition, and if you ever visit Istanbul, make sure you go here.  Although, you might want to take a taxi to the museum as it is on the top of a rather steep hill...which, ahem....we climbed.   At least we earned the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pine-mastic&lt;/span&gt; pudding we had afterwards!  (Anyone who can tell me what "pine-mastic" means wins a piece of Turkish Delight.)&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lows:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts. &lt;/span&gt; Okay, the museum was packed full of various artefacts from various ages, and there were English labels for a change.  But it was about 1000 degrees in the museum and there were more carpets and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kilims&lt;/span&gt; than I can stand to look at in one go.  They didn't really explain why each carpet was noteworthy, and so it basically felt like we were in a carpet warehouse.  The calligraphy exhibits were really good though.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Airport and museum security. &lt;/span&gt; Pretty much at every museum/palace we visited we had to pass through security, which involved my bag being x-rayed and having to walk through metal-detectors.  At the airport, before we even got to check-in we had to lug our suitcases into an x-ray machine and take off shoes and belts etc.  And then we had to do it again before we got on the plane.  And there are so many people who insist on checking your passport.  WHY???!  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turkish Airlines &amp;amp; Stansted Airport. &lt;/span&gt; All I can say is, never again to both of them.  Gatwick and easyjet now seem like paradise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-8672615127387455726?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/8672615127387455726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/8672615127387455726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/08/istanbul-highs-and-lows.html' title='Istanbul: the highs and the lows'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RsWBaruZpcI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7_dxFKUqsTE/s72-c/n222402564_1591108_583.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-8158175121728662262</id><published>2007-08-09T15:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T15:44:22.551+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sun, sea and sheep's brains.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hey folks.  Oscar and I have been in the hot and sweaty Istanbul for four days now, and we've been rushed off our feet seeing the sights and familiarising ourselves with this historical old city.  We're staying in an interesting hotel on a fairly quiet street in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Sultanahmet&lt;/span&gt;, the old part of the city.  The big tourist attractions &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Aya Sofya&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blue Mosque&lt;/span&gt; are a short walk away from here, so obviously we've been to see those already.  In fact, we've done quite a bit already.  My favourite of all the religious buildings has to be the impressive Blue Mosque, which is covered in tens of thousands of blue isnik tiles, and is just huge and breathtaking inside. I experienced a similar feeling of astonishment in the Taj Mahal.  One of the other weird and wonderful places we've been to is the &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Basilica Cistern&lt;/span&gt;, which is an underground structure designed to hold over 80,000 cubic metres of water.  It was so lovely and cool in the cave like place, and quite relaxing despite the number of tourists busy snapping pictures of the famous upside down Medusa heads.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tomorrow, we are going to the &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Grand Bazaar&lt;/span&gt;, which we have wandered through already, but tomorrow we are set to do some serious shopping!  Needless to say, I am rather excited, though Oscar might hide his credit card in advance :-(  At some point we are also going to cross over to the Asian side of Turkey, so we can say proudly that we were in two continents during one holiday!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The food is nice, once we manage to find something we can eat.  At lunchtime, we tend to feast on dips and &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;pides&lt;/span&gt; (which is like the Turkish version of a pizza), but it can be pretty tricky to find vegetarian/fish dishes for dinner.  There are some fancy restaurants, specialising in Ottoman cuisine, but sadly, this means kebaps or some other meaty feast usually involving the innards of a sheep.  Tonight hopefully, I will have some room left in my belly to eat some &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;baklava&lt;/span&gt;, which shockingly, we have not sampled yet!  Don't worry, I will get my fill of it before we leave, especially when tomorrow, we go to a restaurant built above a pretty good baklava shop :-D  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-8158175121728662262?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/8158175121728662262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/8158175121728662262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/08/sun-sea-and-sheeps-brains.html' title='Sun, sea and sheep&apos;s brains.'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-8245002384284197629</id><published>2007-08-04T18:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T18:55:59.921+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mint tea and baklava</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Amigos!  How are you all?  I have been back in England for about 6 days now, and its been a funny time.  Firstly, I caught a cold on the flight back home, so I have been nursing that a bit.  Then, I haven't really been at home much, as I have been wandering all over the place to meet up with friends and have a good natter.  It's nice to be back in London, but I haven't fully got into the fast-pace of life here yet.  I still want to walk slowly, sit about in the sunshine for hours and generally do very little.  So, the fact that it has become much warmer over the last few days is just making me feel even more Brazilian! Also, my misplaced bag finally arrived on Thursday, so I have finally got clean, summer clothes again!  It was getting a bit gross wandering around in winter trousers!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On Monday, I shall be making my way over to the airport once more, to fly to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Istanbul&lt;/span&gt;!  I can't believe how quickly the second holiday has come around, and I am once more feeling excited and impatient about immersing myself in a different culture.  Mint tea and baklava, here we come!  It's going to be nice to go away with Oscar too, as we haven't been on holiday together since last September.  My experience in Brazil taught me that although it is really fun to travel by yourself, its much more fun to experience things with someone else.  I think I might go over-the-top with my souvenir shopping in Istanbul too, to make up for the disappointing purchasing in Brazil.  Plus, now that I can envisage myself getting my own chic little apartment, I might start buying interesting objects to decorate it with.  I shall try to keep you informed with what we're up to over in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stamboul&lt;/span&gt;, but rest assured, we'll be having a great time ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-8245002384284197629?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/8245002384284197629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/8245002384284197629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/08/mint-tea-and-baklava.html' title='Mint tea and baklava'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-1046362302480655580</id><published>2007-07-29T14:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T14:55:33.761+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday #1 is complete</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm back in England!  It is cold and cloudy and not particularly summery feeling.  But, at least I managed to get back safe and sound.  The adventure on the bus was actually worthwhile.  So if anyone else is wondering how best to get to the airport from anywhere in Salvador, jump on the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;executivo&lt;/span&gt; bus, and for a mere R$4, you will end up at the airport in about 40 minutes or so.  Plus the bus is air-conditioned, spacious and comfortable, and drops you right outside the departures terminal.  So, don't take a taxi!!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sadly though, although I made it to London, my suitcase did not.  Everyone on my flight from Salvador to London via Lisbon has lost their bags, so we figure that the problem probably occurred at Lisbon airport.  Luckily, flights from London to Lisbon are frequent, so the airline has promised the bags should be returned to us in 2 days.  It is super annoying though - particularly for the people who were arriving in London for a holiday.  That cannot be a good way to start a vacation.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Right, well, I won't be writing here for a while, not until holiday #2 to&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; Istanbul &lt;/span&gt;is underway.  I hope you are all enjoying your summers, and if you are around in London at any time and want to meet up, let me know!  I shall post pictures here and on facebook.com as soon as I get them developed.  Anyone from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dialogo&lt;/span&gt; who has photos (preferably of me with my eyes open!), please email me them.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-1046362302480655580?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1046362302480655580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1046362302480655580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/holiday-1-is-complete.html' title='Holiday #1 is complete'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-3169734353742260327</id><published>2007-07-28T15:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T19:01:16.846+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The end is here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RrS-31wmH1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/N16w7ZLGdgY/s1600-h/class.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RrS-31wmH1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/N16w7ZLGdgY/s320/class.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094906944995860306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well folks, it´s lunchtime on Saturday, which means I have to quickly wolf down some grub before hot-footing it to the airport to catch my flight back to England (via Lisbon of course).  Its a beautiful day outside, and I think I will miss the sunshine and the heat when I get back home, because apparently, most of Europe is experiencing some sort of torrential rain.  Hmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;On Thursday night, loads of us went on the excursion from the school to the &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Afro-Brazilian folk dance show&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in the&lt;em&gt; Pelourinho&lt;/em&gt;.  The show was amazing.  I really cannot stress enough how cool it was, and it was very professional (it was performed in a theatre!!).  The show encompassed various styles of dance, from &lt;em&gt;Candomblé&lt;/em&gt; to &lt;em&gt;capoeira&lt;/em&gt; to really traditional dances of the slaves working in the plantations.  My favourite has to be the dance of the &lt;em&gt;Fire God&lt;/em&gt;, (related to &lt;em&gt;Candomblé&lt;/em&gt;), because the man carried a bowl of fire on his head, and two pots in his hands, and twirled around really fast on the stage without dropping anything or setting himself alight!  The &lt;em&gt;capoeira&lt;/em&gt; was also fantastic too - much better than any I had seen before.  I can understand why all the male dancers were all tone and six-pack!  I will have to look out for something like this at home, because it was just so good, and an hour show has just wetted my appetite for this sort of performance.  After the show, we all went to &lt;em&gt;Bar Panoramico&lt;/em&gt;, where there was a band playing &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;forró&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, another type of fast-paced music to which you usually dance in pairs.  After a drink and a bite to eat, we made it to the dance floor, where promptly single men would come up and ask to dance with us.  I danced with one guy but then I quickly became tired of going round and round in circles performing the same move again and again.  At least when I am dancing by myself I can just bust out any moves I like!  Oh give me &lt;em&gt;bhangra&lt;/em&gt; any day, and the light-bulb dance!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Friday´s lessons weren´t as tiresome as I was expecting.  For most of the lesson we played a game in pairs, where we had to think quickly of words around a particular subject.  Felipé and I won, and so were given peanut-butter-like sweets as prizes.  I was very proud that I could remember quite so many words....which I take as a sign that I have managed to build up a pretty good vocabulary over these 4 weeks, even if I haven´t obtained conversational Portuguese yet.  In the second half of the lesson I was presented with my &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;certificate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; for completing the course, and then we all gathered around to have photos taken with Marcelo.  It was quite sad to know I would never step into the school again, after building up such a routine here.  In the evening we went out to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"&gt;Rio Vermelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, a posher district of Salvador, up the coast from &lt;em&gt;Barra&lt;/em&gt;.  We eventually found somewhere to eat, and then ended up at another forró club to have a little boogie.  The music there was much harder to dance to though - they mixed the traditional sounds with that of an electric guitar....make of that what you will.  Most people were feeling pretty tired, so we left as the second band was performing a lengthy sound-check.  It was weird to say goodbye to everyone, especially as I have just come to really enjoy myself here.  But I hope that we will all stay in touch, and perhaps meet up when we are travelling in each-other´s home countries!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Today I have been using the morning to going to the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;Igreja do São Francisco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, which was just amazing.  It is one of the best examples of the baroque style.  Inside the church, all the carvings are covered in gold, and it feels very extravagent.  The church was built in the 1700s, and it has been well preserved since then.  Outside in the cloisters, the walls are covered in blue tiles that tell a story, or at least, depict certain morals such as `silence is golden´ (obviously nobody here believes that one).  After being stunned by the richness of the church and the poverty in the rough area just behind it, I went to the museum in the former home of &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jorge Amado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the most famous Bahian writer.  The museum was filled with pictures of Jorge with various celebrities in various fancy locations in the world.  Among the faces I noticed Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Oscar Niemeyer and Jean-Paul Sartre.  That is pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My final adventure in Brazil is to get to the airport.  I have decided to save the few pennies I have left, and so instead of spending lots on a rip-off taxi to the airport, I will be taking the &lt;em&gt;executivo&lt;/em&gt; bus service (a mere R$5 I believe, with air-conditioning, which means it will be -15C in there, as the Brazilians love their AC).  Hopefully I will make it there in one piece, with all my belongings.  For now, I must say &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;adeus, tchau and goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-3169734353742260327?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/3169734353742260327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/3169734353742260327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/end-is-here.html' title='The end is here'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JExFgZmkALI/RrS-31wmH1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/N16w7ZLGdgY/s72-c/class.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-6518555282365597032</id><published>2007-07-26T18:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T18:54:46.378+01:00</updated><title type='text'>An unofficial school holiday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ah, what have I been up to since Monday??  So much, that I myself have to jog my memory a tad.  Well, on Monday afternoon a group of us girls went to get our manicures and pedicures.  It is so unbelievably cheap.  R$10 for the whole package, which is less than three shiny English pounds.  So, might as well make the most of it!  Afterwards, we headed out for a meal, which was a tricky procedure actually.  Most places to eat are closed on Mondays, (why, is beyond me), and the ones we could find were touristy and therefore boring and expensive.  One of my friends is also gluten-intolerant, so Italian was out.  Eventually we found a place and had some food, which was ok, and everyone was so tired that we went our separate ways afterwards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday is of course &lt;em&gt;Pelourinho&lt;/em&gt; night.  After finding out some brilliant news in the morning, I was feeling in the mood for celebrating!  So a big group of us went out to eat (when it promptly started raining, so we had to run indoors and grab a table), and discussed how you say &lt;em&gt;`down it´&lt;/em&gt; in different languages!!  Very interesting!!  At the restaurant were a group of &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tunos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; who are like a bunch of Spaniards (or Spanish speaking people) who dress up in Shakespearian style outfits and play &lt;em&gt;olde&lt;/em&gt; instruments and sing seranading songs, just as some sort of hobby.  We have seen them all over the place in Salvador, and it is cool to get some live entertainment for free!  Next we headed for the samba club we were in last week, but bizarrely, it and many other places were closed or empty.  Sometimes its really awesome in the&lt;em&gt; Pelourinho&lt;/em&gt;, and other Tuesdays it is practically dead, and us &lt;em&gt;gringos &lt;/em&gt;cannot figure out why.  Anyway, we found a salsa place, which was pretty pricey to get in, so we assumed the riff-raff would have been kept out.  Sadly, not.  The guy with fuzzy hair that has constantly hassled us in &lt;em&gt;Barra&lt;/em&gt; was there, as was some guy that chases after Sarah and tells her that he loves her and wants to leave his girlfriend for her.  Hmmmm.  Anyway, there was pretty good music there, and Dana and Judith taught us how to salsa dance, so that was pretty cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday, instead of going to school like a good girl, I bunked off!!  I also convinced a group of my friends to do the same (I´m such a bad influence!)  So, Judith, Dana, Isabelle, Felipe and I met up to go to &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ilha da Itaparica&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the big island in the middle of the&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;All Saints Bay&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; which looks like it is actually the other side of Salvador or something.  It was a pretty grim day when we started on the journey, so I felt a little guilty about organising it, but it soon lightened up.  To get to the island you get onto a boat from near the &lt;em&gt;Mercado Modelo&lt;/em&gt;, and in about 45 minutes, you are in &lt;em&gt;Itaparica&lt;/em&gt;!  It is so pretty over there - lots of lush greenary, hills and valleys, beaches and palm trees, just like being back in &lt;em&gt;Cachoeira.&lt;/em&gt;  The island is famed for its mangos, and its prettiness and closeness to Salvador has made it a popular place for the rich of Salvador to take their vacations.  We did see some pretty fancy houses and apartments, and I can say that I wouldn´t mind at all if the school had been on the island instead of in &lt;em&gt;Barra&lt;/em&gt;.  Ah well.  We were escorted around island by a tourguide, because everything is pretty far apart, and we needed to take a taxi or bus anyway.  So we piled into a pretty comfy and new looking MPV, and went to the historic old town of &lt;em&gt;Itaparica &lt;/em&gt;- very quaint.  We learnt about how slaves used to be sent to a smaller island further away if they had leperosy, so that they wouldn´t affect anyone else.  It must have been grim over there.  We went to a restaurant that the guide assured us would be reasonably priced if he accompanied us (so that we wouldnt get charged tourist prices).  Just as we sat down, all sorts of people selling all sorts of stuff came over to chance their luck.  The jewelry seller and the mask seller were the lucky ones, as we handed over wads of cash for the `unique´ crafts.  We were later conned by the restaurant owner into paying for some lobsters we neither ordered nor ate, but we were all pretty angry about this, so Felipe gave the guy a piece of his mind, and so we just paid for what we actually ate.  Which was bloody expensive as it was - about R$50 each!!  And this was supposed to be non-tourist prices!  Some guy from the Czech Rep, who is a student of music in &lt;em&gt;Brazilia&lt;/em&gt; and was touring around Brazil at the moment decided to approach us because he was being tricked into paying more than he should have by the tourguide he was with.  So he wanted to share our ride back to the port.  Fine by us, but this guy was strange.  While going over the usual introductions, his response to my telling him that I study Physics was `Ah yes, all Indians do subjects like that´.  I felt like throttling him.  Later on, apparently he told Judith and Dana that `All Mexicans are really loud´ and to Felipe that `All Swiss people have lots of money in their bank accounts´.  This guy must have read the &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;How to irritate people by stereotyping them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; book.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;In the evening, we met up with Sarah and the Norweigan girls for &lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sushi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!!  No, don´t worry people - the world hasn´t turned upside down.  I didn´t eat any sushi, though it did look nice.  I had some nice cooked salmon instead, and a lovely hot strawberry compote with icecream for dessert.  Mmmmmm.  The others has a &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sushi festa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;!  There was a deal available to pay R$45 per person to eat as much sushi and dessert from a selection as they could possibly stomach.  There was an awful lot of seafood on the table!  Most of us cannot bear the thought of eating any more fish for a long while!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Tonight there is excursion organised by the school, to a dance show in the &lt;em&gt;Pelourinho &lt;/em&gt;somewhere.  Its going to be a mixture of different Afro &amp; Brazilian folk dances, and should be really interesting.  Tomorrow is my last day here, which is quite sad.  I spent the first week counting the days until I leave, but now, I am sorry to have to go, especially as I have made friends here from all over the world, and the chance of seeing them again soon is small.  But, I am definitely glad that I made this trip, and that I met all these great and interesting people.  There are quite a few of us leaving tomorrow, so it would be good to get together and have one big &lt;em&gt;festa&lt;/em&gt; all together!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-6518555282365597032?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6518555282365597032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6518555282365597032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/unofficial-school-holiday.html' title='An unofficial school holiday'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-4576200833989742425</id><published>2007-07-23T17:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T18:46:23.476+01:00</updated><title type='text'>To Cachoeira and beyond!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As promised, here is a run-down of what I got up to on the weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  The five of us from the school met up at the exceedingly early hour of 9am in &lt;em&gt;Barra&lt;/em&gt;, and from there we walked over to &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Farol da Barra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the lighthouse at the corner of Salvador, where supposedly, one could catch a bus to the &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;rodoviária&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  After a while of waiting in the rather intense morning sunshine, we decided to just take a cab.  Which meant that, since there were 5 of us, I had to sit on Damaris and Felipe!  Eventually, we arrived at the bus station and managed to get tickets for the next bus to &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Santo Amaro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, which is a small town about an hour or so away from Salvador.  We decided that it would be worth going there first, as the town is meant to be quaint and pretty and on Saturdays there is a big market.  So, we boarded the bus, which was very clean and rather spacious, and started into the countryside of Bahia.  It was a pleasant trip, and it was very exciting to see greenary and trees and cows and all the other countryside things that are lacking in the middle of the big city.  After an hour we arrived in &lt;em&gt;Santo Amaro&lt;/em&gt;, and got off the bus near the massive market.  It was just so pretty.  I mean, it wasn´t anything really special, or something so different that I had never seen a town like it before.  It was just a welcomed change from the high-rises and taxis and bustle of Salvador.  The town itself is rather colonial looking, and the small houses with their bright colours and intricate detailing meant we all got rather camera-happy for a while!  The market was mainly focussed on selling fruit and vegetables, so of course, we bought some bananas (just R$1 for a big bunch!).  We also found a music stall, selling all manner of DVDs and CDs (probably all copies, but what the hell).  Francesco, being such a &lt;em&gt;connoisseur &lt;/em&gt;of music of all kinds, requested that he hear lots of different albums before he purchased anything, and so it was quite an interesting experience to hear the vast array of musical styles of Brazil; everything from &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hipi-hopi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to samba to bossa nova.  After making purchases in the market, and being unable to find any good or cheap cachaça, we left and took the bus to &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cachoeira&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;An short while later, and after passing through pretty green hills and fields of crops of some sort, we arrived in the town.  Again, the bus stopped next to a big market, where we got off. Deciding to eat before finding somewhere to stay, we entered the covered market for some food, but alas, it was only meat, so we eventually were directed to a comida por kilo place for food.  I think because we arrived quite late in the afternoon, we were given a 10% discount for the food, which was nice!!  Next, we walked over to &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Convento de Carmo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, which was a beautiful old convent that has been turned into a pousada, hoping we could get rooms to stay in overnight.  Alas, there was a big wedding taking place, and the guests must have booked up all the rooms, so with a sad heart, we left.  Somehow, a tour-guide found us, and directed us to another pousada, which was &lt;em&gt;´ragged´&lt;/em&gt; to say the least.  We chose two rooms, one for the girls (with bunk beds!) and one for the boys.  The rooms were simple, with their own bathrooms, though we weren´t allowed to use the shower in our room for some reason.  There were lots of bugs and spiders and general dirt on the walls, so it was a definite come-down after the pretty &lt;em&gt;Convento&lt;/em&gt;.  Ah well, there was a roof over our heads....just about!  After dumping our stuff, we found ourselves exploring the town and ending up in an art-gallery-cum-shop.  The town is located near a river, which is why, in the olden days, &lt;em&gt;Cachoeira&lt;/em&gt; was an important place, as all the sugarcane and related products that made up the main industry of the area, could be transported around the country/region easily.  &lt;em&gt;Cachoeira&lt;/em&gt; is on one side of the river running through the valley, and directly opposite is the smaller town of &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;São Felix&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.  The two towns are connected by a pretty rickety looking wooden &amp; metal bridge.  We decided we would save going over the river until Sunday.  The art shop was very good and quite chic, for the area.  I bought the prettiest candle-holder I have ever seen!  We made a deal with the tour-guide to see a &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Candomblé&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; show in the evening, and so we had dinner and then a quick powernap before going out to meet the guide at 10pm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The &lt;em&gt;Candomblé &lt;/em&gt;ceremony was going to be held in some other town, on the other side of the river (we tried not to look while we were crossing the bridge, because that would ruin the momentous occasion of crossing on Sunday!)  We were picked up by the guide and two of his mates to go to the ceremony in the oldest, rustiest VW van I have ever seen.  I´ve been in some pretty shakey vans in and around India, but this topped that by miles.  The van engine wouldn´t start by itself, so people had to often get out and push the van to get it going!  The seats weren´t exactly fixed rigidly either, so it was a hilarious and bumpy ride into the middle of nowhere.  The guide had suggested/hinted that other tourists would be accompanying us, but we think he just said that so we would go along, as otherwise we may have been reluctant.  It turned out better that we were the only tourists at the whole event, because that made the ceremony more real, and less of a show for the &lt;em&gt;gringos&lt;/em&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The ceremony was.....ummmmm......interesting.  So, basically, what happens at these events is that people dance and sing and play instruments as their way of getting closer to the gods of the religion (the &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Orixás&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;).  Sometimes, they get so close to the gods that they become possessed by one of them.  You know this is happening when suddenly someone starts convulsing and gets a strange, vacant look in their eyes.  These people are lead off into a back room, where they are either calmed down or something, and we didn´t see them again for a few hours, when they reappeared in a different costume, perhaps representative of their status now.  (Not everyone is lucky enough to become possessed by a god.)  Okay, fair enough, I can understand that their faith in the gods is so strong that they may feel connected with them.  But, I feel a little confused, because a lot of the ceremony involved people drinking a hell of a lot of alcohol, and the two main people involved in the ceremony (sort of like a priest and a priestess, who have a stronger link to the gods than the mere mortals), were puffing away on cigars like they were going out of fashion.  While we were there, they must have consumed a litre each of some lethal looking liquor, and at least 3 cigars, and we were there for about 3 hours.  So, it was difficult for me to distinguish whether they really became close to their gods, or if they merely hallucinated the whole thing.  Suffice to say, all the ones who became possessed looking totally out of it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The next day, after a bit of a lie-in, we made the momentous trip over the bridge.  Pretty much as soon as we started walking on it, it started raining.  A sign!!  We were also heading over to the massive cross we had seen on the top of the hill of &lt;em&gt;São Felix,&lt;/em&gt; so the experience felt rather mystical!  The rain stopped after about 15 minutes, and we started a tiring ascent up a hill towards the cross.  The road leading up was surrounded by houses, and the town was obviously somewhat poor, because the feeling of the town was &lt;em&gt;favela&lt;/em&gt;-like and there was a communal place to have a wash.  However, it was no way anything like being in the favela or in the &lt;em&gt;Pelourinho&lt;/em&gt; of Salvador.  In &lt;em&gt;Cachoeira&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;São Felix&lt;/em&gt; we walked around at all times of the day and night, in between houses and along darkish streets, and didn´t feel at all that someone was going to come along and mug us.  The place was quaint and sleepy, and the difference in atmosphere was just so surprisingly pleasant.  I much preferred the countryside to Salvador, and it is a bit of shame to be back.  It actually felt like we were on holiday too, whereas in Salvador, you feel like you are at work.  Lots of little children came out of their houses and posed, model-like for pictures. They were all so cute and timid, unlike the &lt;em&gt;Little Zé&lt;/em&gt; types running around the &lt;em&gt;Pelourinho&lt;/em&gt;.  Eventually we found the cross, and started back down again.  Sadly, having not packed my suncream for the trip, I have found myself a tad sunburnt, because the intensity of the sun was so great.  It felt much hotter there than in Salvador, but at night, it was very cold, and there was fog in the valley.  That is probably why I managed to sleep quite well there, despite the rather thin mattress.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We ate a good lunch at the restaurant of the &lt;em&gt;Convento&lt;/em&gt; and at about 4pm, we caught the bus to leave for Salvador.  It was certainly sad to leave, and I think everyone really enjoyed getting out into the countryside and seeing another side to life in Bahia/Brazil.  I wish that I had more time or more weekends to go on similar trips, but alas, I don´t.  Anyway, I really enjoyed the trip, and if I come back to Brazil, I would make more time to see smaller towns along the coast and in the interior.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I have to mention that we went to dinner with Judith and Dana on Sunday evening, to a little crepe restaurant near &lt;em&gt;Shopping Barra&lt;/em&gt;.  The mains crepe for me was spinach, ricotta and walnut, which was good, but not thrilling.  The dessert crepe was the best thing I have eaten in a while!  Isabelle and I always say we will eat &lt;em&gt;sobremesas&lt;/em&gt;, but we never seem to, so we both went all out on Sunday.  She had the most amazing looking chocolate and icecream crepe, while I went for &lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;doce de leite and coconut&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  Oh my god.  Mine was soooooo good.  Sweet, but sooo tasty.  I wish I was in Argentina - I would eat dulce de leite every day!!  Judith and Dana wanted to go to Bohemia Bar afterwards, but we were all pretty tired, so went home.  All in all, an awesome weekend.  Although we didn´t see lots of `sights´ and visit the churches in &lt;em&gt;Cachoeira&lt;/em&gt; (which are meant to be beautiful), we did experience a lot, and just leaving the city was good enough!  Right, now its back to homework and the reality of getting mugged and not walking anywhere at night :-(  Although, in a moment, us girlies are going to get manicures and pedicures :-D  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-4576200833989742425?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/4576200833989742425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/4576200833989742425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/to-cachoeira-and-beyond.html' title='To Cachoeira and beyond!'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-3658782075730404490</id><published>2007-07-22T23:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T00:02:19.000+01:00</updated><title type='text'>An awesome weekend :-)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Woah! Okay, it´s currently about 7.30pm, and I have just got back to Salvador after a weekend away in the countryside with friends from the school. It has been unbelievably good to get out of the city and see a bit more of Brazil. A group of us (Isabelle, Damaris, Felipe, Francesco and your´s truly) have been on a mini-adventure to &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cachoeira&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, a town that used to be the second most important in Bahia back in &lt;em&gt;ye olde days&lt;/em&gt;, but is now just a sleepy town, set in the beautiful Brazilian countryside (greenary - woooooooo!!). There is a lot to report, so I don´t think I will write too much now, because I´m pretty tired, and in a moment or two we are off to join Judith and Dana for some &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;crepe-eating&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (mmmm). Anyway, let´s at least begin with Friday...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Friday was the second &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Intercultural Meeting&lt;/span&gt;, organised by the school. Again, it turned out to be not so much of an exercise in speaking Portuguese but more of meeting people at the school who I hadn´t really chatted to much before. Again, the service was sooooo slow, but anyways, it was pretty good. It was Steve´s last day at the school and the last time we´d probably ever see him, so it was good to have a drink or three and say goodbye to him and the other leavers. I spent a while in deep philosophical/socio-economic conversation with some American lads who are part of a big group of students at Dialogo from Philly. We mainly discussed why some of their group had some sort of attitude problem, and then went on to talk about the crappier sides to where we all come from. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Interesting statistics for you all&lt;/span&gt;: the UK population is 70million, and the number of murders per year is probably about 400-600. Brazil´s population is something like 160 million, and the number of murders per year is around 16,000. And yet, locals claim Brazil (in particular, Salvador) is really safe. I think not. And just for comparison´s sake, there are around 100-200 murders in Philly per annum (usually gun or drug-related crime).&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Later, a huge group of us ended up in the Pelourinho, and we tried to get into some big salsa party, but it was not to be. Apparently it was too full of people, and being an old building, would collapse if we entered. Strangely, plenty of locals were entering at the very same time......hmmmmm...After a quick cerveja, I headed home for a night of restless sleep and mosquito-attacks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tomorrow, when I have recovered a bit from the journey, I shall report on the weekend´s events, which include:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a few hours in a small town before reaching Cachoiera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a Candomblé ceremony&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a tour-guide who refused to leave us alone, and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;some very good fish dishes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Till then, amigos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-3658782075730404490?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/3658782075730404490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/3658782075730404490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/awesome-weekend.html' title='An awesome weekend :-)'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-6558963159741158731</id><published>2007-07-18T17:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T17:51:00.780+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Samba!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hmmmm, what´s been going on this week?  Well, I am getting used to the new teacher and the larger class, but at the same time, I find myself becoming much more distracted during the lessons when Marcelo decides to talk on about some subject or another in Portuguese.  It is a good learning exercise to try and understand what he´s saying, but it is extremely taxing and I cannot help but switch off and start thinking about the evening or going to sleep or about the weekend.  Hmmm.  So, the new additions to the class are two Italians (one cool, the other slightly weird), one Swiss-German and the weird, socks-and-sandals-wearing Austrian with a ponytail.  He creeps us out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Last night, being a Tuesday and all, was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pelourinho&lt;/span&gt; night.  We met up with the plan to go to a concert, but apparently the band who were meant to be playing are in Europe on tour.  How rude!  So, after wandering around a little, we eventually ended up at &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bar Panoramique&lt;/span&gt;, where there was a samba band playing.  After a couple of strong &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;caipirinhas&lt;/span&gt; and some cheesy chips, we took to the dancefloor and busted out some samba moves!  It was a lot of fun putting our lessons into practice, though it was really hard keeping the feet moving.  The pace was so fast, and Brazilians seem to move their feet at warp speed, but it was really good!  Before the bar, we watched an awesome &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;percussion band &lt;/span&gt;playing in the street.  So many people gathered to watch as they beat out rhythms on massive drums, and the most interesting thing was that a group of guys started to dance to the music in formation.  It was brilliant!  Never have I seen a bunch of grown men start dancing in-sync in the middle of the street (and never will I again, probably), and it was difficult to imagine stiff Europeans doing the same thing.  Others joined in with the dancing behind them, and soon there was a number of lines of people all performing the same actions in time with each other.  Very cool, and it is at times like this that I really enjoy the Brazilian way of life; the nonconformity and the freedom of it all.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-6558963159741158731?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6558963159741158731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6558963159741158731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/samba.html' title='Samba!!'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-6492485631501992024</id><published>2007-07-16T17:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T18:17:56.312+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Third week!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hello!  How are we all? Well, this is the start of my third week in Brazil, so I am more than half way through the trip now.  It is scary how fast time flies sometimes, and at other times it feels like my watch has stopped.  The weekend was good.  I have already told you all about Saturday, and yesterday was a pretty relaxed day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept until 10.30am, which was amazing, and I only woke up because I heard knocking on my door.  It turned out to be Manuel (the slightly sour guy from the Pousada), who wanted to know if I wished to swap rooms and move into room 5.  After considering it for a while (it has a TV and a desk or something), I thought no, because it used to be Cristin´s room, and she barely slept for all the noise.  Thus, I am staying put.  Having missed breakfast, I went out to get something to eat, and then met up with Damaris at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Campo Grande,&lt;/span&gt; from where we went to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Barra &lt;/span&gt;and met Isabelle.  The three of us went to the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;praia &lt;/span&gt;for the afternoon.  I am not a beach person really. I don´t mind relaxing on them for a while, but I can´t do it too often or for too long because I just get bored.  Anyway, it was a nice afternoon, and at about 4pm the tide came in rather high, so we left to get something to eat.  We went to a restaurant on the beach front, and I had such an amazing meal.  It was &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;peixe grelhado com frutas&lt;/span&gt;, and boy was it good.  The fish was yummy and fresh, and the fruit was enough to feed a family for a day!  It included &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;two slices of pineapple, a whole papaya, mango, a banana and two types of (sliced) melon&lt;/span&gt;.  Yum yum.  I would not have thought fish and fruit would go well together, but it was really good.  I might never eat &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;batatas fritas &lt;/span&gt;again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 6pm, the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Copa America &lt;/span&gt;final started, and we stayed in the restaurant to watch the first half.  Brazil scored a goal very early on, and by the end it was 2-0.  Given that most Brazilians thought that Argentina was the stronger team, people were in a quite jubilant mood.  We left that place and took a taxi to a Mexican restaurant near&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Rua Belo Horizonte&lt;/span&gt;, where we always seem to end up.  The atmosphere in this place was much nicer, and the food looked really yummy, so we will have to go back for dinner some time.  The second half was interesting, with Brazil scoring again, and soon after, it looked like Argentina scored a goal, but there must have been some technical football ruling to disqualify the goal or something, because Brazil won 3-0.  Everyone celebrated, and some fireworks went off outside at the end.  But soon after, lots of people left to go elsewhere, and the all night partying we had expected did not appear.  Perhaps Brazil has won so many times in so many championships that they don´t get excited by it anymore!  Steve turned up at the bar after the game had ended, and he was disappointed he missed the whole thing!  Anyway, we left at about 10pm, and took at taxi home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The taxi driver has now driven me home 3 times, and we have a little chit-chat each time.  He wants to learn English and wanted me to be his teacher.  So, we went to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bahia Cafe&lt;/span&gt; and I went through some useful English phrases that he might need as a taxi driver, and he asked me questions in Portuguese which I had to translate into English for him.  It was quite a good learning exercise. I asked him what the cost of a trip to the airport is roughly, and he said R$70, which is quite a lot.  I asked him what he would charge me, and he said zero, and he didn´t charge me for the fare that night either, so I was pretty chuffed!  It´s good to bargain!  Damaris had joked with him earlier that a lesson would cost R$100, and he seemed pretty willing to pay that, but I couldn´t possibly accept that.  A free taxi ride to the airport is enough for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we have a new teacher at the school, because the school likes to rotate teachers around.  This is a good idea, so you don´t get used to a particular accent or voice.  Our new teacher is Marcelo, but the problem is, we now have 4 extra people (guys) in our class.  Plus, they are either Italian or Spanish speaking, and so for them, Portuguese is much easier to grasp.  So today, in true masculine style, they totally took over the class and dominated the lesson.  And they speak so quickly that when we are asked as a group to repeat a phrase, they complete it before the rest of us have even started.  Perhaps it will help us to learn, because we are now always on our toes.  But, the class feels a little too big and too advanced at the moment.  I wonder why they don´t put the latin-language speaking people in a class together, away from us Germanic language speakers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-6492485631501992024?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6492485631501992024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6492485631501992024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/third-week.html' title='Third week!'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-5148513640327603317</id><published>2007-07-15T15:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T18:19:31.218+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The last 48 hours or so</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, I hope you enjoyed my first words of Portuguese!!  I certainly enjoyed writing it, as it feels like I have really accomplished something over the last 2 weeks.  Although the writing is simplistic and the topic not too riveting, I feel like by the end of the month I will be able to speak and understand the language, so yay!!  I am finding it much much easier to write and read the language than to speak and listen to it.  People have their own accents or speak colloquially, so it can be really difficult.  Nevertheless, I try to converse with people wherever I can, like with a taxi driver or someone in the Pousada.  It requires an awful lot of confidence, and I quickly feel out of my depth, but it is really good to feel you are getting to know people by speaking to them in their language.  Woo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;OK, now for the slightly less good news.  On Friday, after dance class, Damaris, Isabelle and I arranged to meet for a drink in the evening in &lt;em&gt;Barra&lt;/em&gt;.  Seeing as it was Cristin´s last day, I thought it would be nice for her to come along too, especially since the alternative was for her to read until the small hours by herself.  She is a lovely lady, and because we were staying in the same Pousada, we would walk together to  school, and I was pleased to have the company.  So, anyway, off we went.  We met up with the others and went to a restaurant near Isabelle´s hotel, where there are lots of bars and places to eat and loads of people out and about.  We had a great time there, and listened to Cristin´s amazing and scary stories from when she was working in Africa.  After sharing our individual frightening or dodgy experiences, as well as more light-hearted conversation, we decided the bar was probably trying to get rid of us, so we left.  Damaris lives in &lt;em&gt;Campo Grande&lt;/em&gt;, which is about half way between &lt;em&gt;Barra &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Pelourinho&lt;/em&gt;.  As there were three of us, and it was about 11pm, and there were lots of people out on the streets, we decided to walk home.  We walked Damaris all the way to her homestay, and then Cristin and I left to get to our Pousada.  We were almost home, literally about 20 metres from our Pousada, when all of a sudden we hear some shouting and some men appear.  Thinking they are either trying to get past us on the road, or trying to get our attention for other purposes, we don´t really notice what is going on.  Cristin was sort of separated from me, and suddenly,  a man steps in front of me, puts his finger to his lips and tells me not to shout.  The confusion of it all meant I didn´t really register what was going on.  First I thought it was a friend playing a practical joke or something.  Then I thought I was going to be sexually attacked.  Then when another guy came and grabbed me from behind, and the guy in front started pulling off my bag (which was worn across my body) I realised what was happening.  Everyone´s immediate reaction in this sort of situation is to hold on to their possessions, but I remembered the story of the American girl in the Pousada who was punched in the face for trying to clutch her bag.  So wisely, I let go, and they stripped it off me, pushed me aside, causing my glasses to slip off, and then in the darkness, in the blur, they were gone.  It must have lasted no more than 30 seconds, but bloody hell, it felt like it was all in slow motion.   Cristin had shouted while it was happening, but nobody appeared.  A second later, a couple strolled by innocently, and as we walked up to the Pousada, we saw &lt;strong&gt;three policemen&lt;/strong&gt; standing outside.  &lt;em&gt;How had they not heard us?  Why were three standing outside the Pousada, instead of patrolling around the dodgier corners and streets?&lt;/em&gt;  After explaining to the nice guy in the Pousada what happened, he went off with the police for a while to see if they could find anything, but the alley the men ran down was empty when the robbery occurred, and these people are hardly likely to amble along a lane.  So we then go to the police station in the &lt;em&gt;Pelourinho&lt;/em&gt; to make a report...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is when things became strange.  Not scary, just odd.  Firstly, the report I had to make was via filling in a form.  The form asked for information, firstly in English and then in brackets in Portuguese.  That immediately told us about who mainly is the victim of and the reporter of crimes in the area.  The form then asked for some standard info, but some other info that I have no idea why it would make a difference to the case.  It went something like this: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Your name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Your father´s full name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Your mother´s full name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Address and telephone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Have you been accepted to university?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;When did the crime occur?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;What was stolen?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Email address&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hmmmm.  Anyway, I filled in the form (in Portuguese, for ease), and then was asked to look through 2 thick photo albums filled with pictures of known criminals to see if we could identify the pair.  I have no idea what the guy behind me looked like, except that he was short.  The guy in front has burnt his image into my mind.  We found one guy who looked very similar to him, but we couldn´t say it was definitely him, because it is hard to make that commitment when it all happened so fast.  I was then told to come back tomorrow to collect a report that I could use for insurance purposes.  This I did, and it was all relatively painless.  However, on the report, it said that I had postively identified &lt;em&gt;Criminal #xyz&lt;/em&gt; as the robber, which I hadn´t, but anyway, nothing will come of it all, except that I can reclaim some of what was stolen from insurance.  I  have to say that if Cristin hadn´t been with me through the whole process, I would never have managed to cope or make myself understood.  Her level of Portuguese was vital in getting everything sorted.  I am also so glad that neither of us were hurt in any way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Lessons learnt:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; don´t think you can risk walking after about 8pm.  Don´t carry a big bag like I was, even if you think it looks pretty cruddy and nobody would possibly think there was anything valuable in it.  My camera was in it (what posessed me to leave it in my bag is beyond me, I usually always leave it at home in the safe), so that was annoying, but only a few pictures had been taken with it, so I didn´t really lose much.  They basically got a half-broken camera, a cardigan, a bit of money and shed loads of tissues and sanitary towels!  They obviously thought there was a lot of stuff in it, because it was bulky.  From now on, I will stuff money into pockets or underwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyway, after a traumatic evening, the next day was extremely pleasant.  I said my goodbyes to Cristin, and met up with Isabelle and Damaris to go to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Igreja do Bon Fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.  That was an experience and a half!  I managed to ask the guy next to me on the bus which stop we should get off at, and since we ended up at the church, he must have understood!  The church is popular with people who believe in its &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;healing and miracle powers&lt;/span&gt;.  There was a room filled with pictures of people who had prayed there for something, and then they had healed or their wish had been granted.  From the ceiling hung tonnes of plastic models of parts of the body which people were wishing to be healed.  Heads, legs, hands, feet, arms, whole bodies, and baby bodies.  It was really emotional, especially because it was 14th July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;From there, we caught a bus to&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Iguatemi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, South America´s largest shopping centre (or so it claims).  The bus took us through some pretty awful favela type areas of Salvador, and it was really odd to see the wild difference between where we ended up and what we passed on the way.  The population of Salvador is about 2 million, and if you stay around &lt;em&gt;Campo Grande&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;Barra,&lt;/em&gt; you would think everyone was well-off.  We all agreed it was good to see how the majority of people live, in houses so basic that once the four walls and roof were up, windows doors and plumbing were considered luxeries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The shopping centre was dizzying.  There were so many people there, and so many upmarket type shops and cafés.  We thought we could go and see a film in the multiplex, but there were so many noisy teenagers there, we gave it a miss.  They obviously think it is super cool to hang out at the mall.  We also saw a young teen couple that seemed to be having a competition to see if they could kiss each other for an hour......while the girl´s friend stood awkwardly by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We then caught a bus back to&lt;em&gt; Barra&lt;/em&gt;, which quickly caused us to freak out. &lt;em&gt; Iguatemi&lt;/em&gt; is not that far from&lt;em&gt; Barra&lt;/em&gt;, and it shouldn´t take more than 20-25 minutes before you start recognising buildings and surroundings.  We thought we were going in the right direction when suddenly we ended up on a &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;narrow bumpy road&lt;/span&gt; in what seemed like a favela or at least, a super rough area.  Thinking, there is no point in getting out in the middle of nowhere, we stayed on as the bus crawled through dodgy neighbourhood after dodgy neighbourhood.  Eventually, I smelled the sea breeze, and realised we must be back near the Atlantic, and lo and behold, soon we saw the familiar sights of the Christ statue on the hill and the lighthouse.  Never have I been so happy to see &lt;em&gt;Barra&lt;/em&gt;!  We got out near &lt;em&gt;Shopping Barra&lt;/em&gt;, and we all laughed about how exciting and frightening it had been!  All in all, a great day, and a great way to put the events of the night before behind me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-5148513640327603317?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/5148513640327603317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/5148513640327603317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/last-48-hours-or-so.html' title='The last 48 hours or so'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-5559741827802694021</id><published>2007-07-15T15:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T15:35:30.260+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My first paragraph in Portuguese!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here it is, let´s see if you can figure out what it is about, but don´t cheat and use Google Convert or something!!  Also, I haven´t figured out how to put the ^ accent on top of letters yet with a keyboard, so forgive the spelling errors here and there.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Meu nome é Parminder.  Eu sou da Inglaterra, mas minha mãe é do Quenia e meu pai é da India. Portanto eu falo ingles, hindi e punjabi, e eu estudo alemão na escola.  Eu moro em Londres.  Minha família mora no oeste de Londres, e quando eu estudo na Universidade, eu moro no centro de Londres.  Eu sou estudante de Física na Imperial College Universidade.  Daqui  tres anos eu sou doutora em Física!  Eu trabalho em um laboratória e é perigoso!  Eu sou noiva  e meu namorado é estudante de Matemática.  Ele mora em Oxford.  No fim de semana nós gostamos de comer em restaurantes, cozinhamos bolos e peixe, e visitamos Museus.  Nós gostamos de viajar.  Eu tenho um irmão.  Ele tem 21 anos, e ele é estudante de economia, politica e filosofia.  Nós somos bons amigos!  Minha mãe trabalha no consoltorio e meu pai trabalha no escritório.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-5559741827802694021?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/5559741827802694021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/5559741827802694021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-first-paragraph-in-portuguese.html' title='My first paragraph in Portuguese!'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-823187680382334951</id><published>2007-07-13T18:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T18:56:24.804+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Viva Espanha!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;Hello my friends!  Just thought I would share my exciting news with the world.  No, no, I have not won the Brazilian lottery, or married a rich man (as the title of my last blog said I was aiming for).  No, it is simply that, as a greedy traveller, I have decided to make the most of my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;last ever big summer holiday&lt;/span&gt;, and have booked myself another trip!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes!  You heard correctly.  I thought, bugger it, what´s the use of savings these days, I am not buying a house in the near future!  Instead, I shall be going to &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Barcelona&lt;/span&gt; for 6 days at the end of August!!  Wooyay!  As you can tell, I am thrilled, especially as I managed to get a British Airways return flight for just 60GBP!!  (Okay, admittedly, it is from Gatwick, but at least I get a meal on board and don´t have to look at ugly young stewards/stewardesses in garish orange.)  If anyone has been there before and has any recommendations for what to see or do, please let me know!!  I cannot wait to confuse all the Spaniards (and even worse, Catalans) with my Portuguese!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-823187680382334951?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/823187680382334951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/823187680382334951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/viva-espanha.html' title='Viva Espanha!'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-1985665424481151689</id><published>2007-07-12T17:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:24:55.484+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu gostaria de casar com um homem rico!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boa tarde amigos e amigas!  Tudo bem? &lt;/span&gt; How are you all?  It is super-dooper hot here, like way hotter than it was last week, and it is showing.  Despite my desperate attempts to stop tanning by applying and reapplying the factor 25 cream, I am browning every day.  By the time I get to Turkey, I will probably look like a Turk!!  I hope the good weather will last until the end of the week, because I really want to use the weekend to explore a bit, and if it´s raining, I will feel inclined to sit on my bed with a packet of biscuits and a book all day.  Oh, which reminds me, they have that disgusting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aquarius&lt;/span&gt; drink here, and the same bizarre strawberry-cream biscuits as I found in Malaga airport......so in many ways, a Spaniard would feel right at home here!  They really like their sugar here - everything is immensely sweet, and you can feel your teeth rotting.  The juice they serve in the morning for breakfast in the Pousada is freshly squeezed or blended fruit, diluted with a lot of water, and then shedloads of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;açucar&lt;/span&gt; is added.  WHY???!!  Fruit is sweet enough on its own here.  Arghhhhh!  And I went into the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;supermercado&lt;/span&gt; to buy some snacks, really hoping to find some crisps or something salty, but couldn´t find anything other than biscuits, and some salty crackers that remind me of the ones we would eat out of desperation sometimes in India.  It´s really weird.   One thing I wanted to try here was the food from the street vendors, particularly &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;acarajé&lt;/span&gt;.  It´s like a falafel, but its made of beans, shaped into a big ball, the size of your hand, and fried to death in &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;palm oil&lt;/span&gt; (which stinks).  The ball is then split open and filled with mashed up shrimp, some peanut paste and other stuff.  Sounds good, except firstly, I have heard that sometimes they don´t take the tails of the shrimps - there is no way in hell I am eating prawn shells.  Secondly, if something is greasier than the samosas from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shahanshah&lt;/span&gt;, then I am going to have to say no, or there will be dire consequences afterwards.  Henceforth, I am going to pass the &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Baianas&lt;/span&gt; sitting on the curbside selling the oily delights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I went to the extra dance class in the Pelourinho, at the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Diaspora&lt;/span&gt; school.  It was really awesome, way better than the classes at school.  We warmed up for ages, and then, a drummer started to beat out a rhythm on the drums for us to dance to.  Every now and then, he would speed up because he felt like it, and we would have to perform the movements we had just barely grasped at warp speed.  It was seriously tiring, but it was a lot of fun, and because it was open to anyone and everyone, it felt more real and authentic than the class at school.  The dance was pretty much Afro-Brazilian, so some &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Candombl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;é&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Axé&lt;/span&gt; moves.  I think I will be well and truly prepared for this year´s &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Notting Hill Carnival&lt;/span&gt;!  The next class was yesterday, but I was way too tired to go.  I think the rise in temperature and humidity and all the walking I have been doing has taken its toll, and I feel exhausted by the end of the day.  I shall endeavour to attend the Monday classes though, and then do the Wednesday and Friday classes at school.  That´s enough exercise and dancing for one person!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night out in the Pelourinho on Tuesday (fiesta night!) was ok.  Met up with Steve, Malik and others and went for a quick drink at the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bahia Caf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;é&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; first, before moving to the streets.  But, pretty much everyone has been zapped of energy, so by 11pm, we were saying our goodbyes.  The music and the atmosphere was pretty good though, but I feel that it would be a lot more enjoyable if you really appreciated the music and if there weren´t so many people begging or trying to sell you something.  Ah well, its a touristy place, so it cannot be helped. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I also managed to wash my clothes - hurrah!!  All by hand, because the laundry services/launderettes here are pretty expensive.  Thus, my hands were pretty wrinkly and sticky afterwards, but at least I have clean clothes! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, in an hour or so, there is an excursion from the school to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Forte de São Marcelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, which is some sort of fort in the mar (sea) and that we get to by a 15 minute boat journey.  I would really like to go to the island one day (there is a big island across from Salvador, with the best mangoes in all of Bahia), but the journey is about 45 minutes and the sea looks pretty rough, even on a good day, so I don´t know if I will be able to handle it.  Apparently, on the weekend, there was an excursion to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Morro de São Paulo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, which takes 2 hours to get to, and because the weather was really bad, all the students got given a bucket as soon as they boarded the boat.  Hmmmmm, gross! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oooooh, this weekend is the final of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Copa America&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, with Brazil versus Argentina!!  We are going to go to a bar to watch, because its going to be awesome!  There aren´t many opportunities to watch such a big game in one of the countries participating!  I may buy a Brazil football shirt in preparation! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Adeus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, blogreaders!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-1985665424481151689?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1985665424481151689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1985665424481151689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/eu-gostaria-de-casar-com-um-homem-rico.html' title='Eu gostaria de casar com um homem rico!'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-1724342820240753066</id><published>2007-07-09T17:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:21:37.523+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Rain.  Why so much rain?  There were bursts on Friday, and again on Saturday for most of the morning and early afternoon, and today is pretty overcast.  Obviously, I know it is the rainy season here, and expect it to be wet a lot, but it would be so great of it rained equatorial style here, in one big burst for a couple of hours in the afternoon, and then no more until exactly the same time the next day.  Anyway, I woke up on Saturday with the plan of meeting Isabelle to go to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bonfim&lt;/span&gt;, but it was absolutely chucking it down, so Isabelle, Kent (an Americano), Steve (guess!) and I dashed to the nearby &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Museu Afro-Brasilero&lt;/span&gt; for shelter.  Turns out it was R$5 to get in, so we had a look around.  The ground floor is filled with various artefacts recording the black contribution to Brazilian culture.  One of the best rooms was filled with carved panels by Carb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;é&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; (Bahia´s most famous artist).  The 27 carved wooden panels depicted the gods and godesses of &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Candomblé&lt;/span&gt;.  For those who don´t know, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Candombl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;é&lt;/span&gt; is a popular Afro-Brazilian religion.  The followers dress in white and worship together in a dance, with music and singing.  A lot of people go to watch &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Candombl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;é&lt;/span&gt; ceremonies here, but as much as it looks interesting, I also feel a little sceptical about going to a ceremony that they know tourists are coming to watch.  Surely, you are taking something away from the meaning of it all, and turning it into a money-making show for people who think it is a value-for-money, real Brazilian experiences.  Anyway, I digress.  The museum was suprisingly good,though it would have helped to have English descriptions here and there.  Within the museum was the&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Museu Arqueol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ó&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;gico e Etnológico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.  It was in the basement of the main 19th century building,and incorporates the only surviving part of the old Jesuit college, a section of the cellars.  In the cave-like setting were various costumes, jewelery items and weapons from Indian tribes in Brazil.  It was quite interesting to see all the outfits and masks from the African side, because you don´t usually find this sort of thing in museums in the UK or Europe, unless there is a specific exhibition going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, we dashed to the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Catedral Basilica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; across from the museum.  This was once the chapel of the largest Jesuit seminary outside Rome.  The inside of the cathedral as just amazing and unexpected, given the grubby, drab exterior.  The ceiling was made of panelled, carved and guilded wood, and the side chapels decorated heavily in gold and in a sort of Roccoco style.  Behind the main part of the cathedral was a recently restored sacristy, where portraits of Jesuit luminaries (on the wall and ceiling) gaze down intimidatingly on intruders.  Downstairs was the crypt, alongside a constant nativity scene. One of the bricked-up crypts looked like it was freshly used, as the cement seemed a little new.  Creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From here, we rushed over to the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Igreja de São Francisco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, which is one of the best examples of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;azulejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; work in Brazil (Portuguese blue tiling, used to tell a story).  We had a quick look around, but didn´t pay to get into the church proper, as we decided lunch was more important.  Down the road we found a bizarre creperie-cum-hostel filled with youngsters.  Anyway, the crepes were sooooo good and filling.  I may go back one day for a sweet version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now the rain had died down so we headed towards the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Mercado Modelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, an old covered market, which has plenty of stalls selling all manner of tourist-tat as well as some reasonable pieces of art. I will return for souvenier-buying once I have learnt how to bargain somewhat, or found a Brazilian to haggle for me.  Now, the exciting thing here is that to get to the market, you need to take the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Elevador Larcedo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, which is the only way to get down from the Pelourinho unless you really want to risk mugging by taking one of the winding roads down.  The elevator is only 5 cents a go, and its so fast, you feel like you´re on a rollercoaster!!  I met up with Isabelle and Steve for drinks and a meal later on in Barra, and while we were out we semi-watched a football match.  I believe it was Brazil against Chile,in the Pan-American Cup, and Brazil won 6-1.  There was quite a good atmosphere on the streets that night.  Isabelle and I are going to make inquiries to go and see a football game in Salvador, because it would be a great way to get a feel for the Brazilian love for the beautiful game!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhhhh, I forgot to tell you about the inter-cultural meeting on Friday night.  Well, that wasn´t much of a success, given most of us cannot speak conversational Portuguese yet.  So, instead we just got to know one another more, which was cool.  Lev wanted everyone to go to some &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;clube&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; 20 minutes drive away from the bar, but a lot of us didn´t have enough money to go there, pay the R$20 to get in, buy drinks and get back to our homes.  So, although I wanted to check it out, I had to decline, given I only had R$21 on me!  Still, there´s plenty of time to be ripped off to get into a club yet!  Here, you pay once you leave the club, so can you imagine what would happen if you had drunk more than you could afford to pay?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I relaxed for most of the day, and read my books in various locations.  It was really warm, so I could have gone to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Bonfim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, but I decided to go on Saturday this week, for personal reasons. I finally managed to get to a pharmacy too to get some cream for the itchy mozzie bites.  Ahhhh, the relief is immense!  Today, two new students have joined our class to replace Lev and Lin who have left.  It´s a little hard for them, as we have already progressed a bit, and they simply have to catch up, but hopefully they won´t struggle too much.  The school has organised a tour to the Pelourinho today, but dear god, there´s no need for me to go to that, given I live right here and see it all the time.  So I´m gonna chill, and then maybe go to the extra-curricular dance class, depending on whether I have enough energy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, one week in, and I´m still enjoying myself!  Must find some detergent so I can wash my clothes soon :-(  Don´t think I´m missing England yet (though, obviously, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; missing all of you!)  but I know that when I get back, it would be sooooo great to eat cereal, as I don´t think the milk here is too good.  Keep writing to me, when you can.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Até logo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-1724342820240753066?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1724342820240753066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1724342820240753066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/chuva.html' title='A Chuva'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-6816078028103057946</id><published>2007-07-06T17:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:21:59.533+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The bell tolls for the end of week 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So, what have I been up to these last couple of days? Well, I discovered a great place to eat near the school - it´s a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;comida por kilo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, which pretty much does what it says on the tin.  You fill up your plate with as much food as you like from a buffet-type selection, and pay by the weight of the food.  Brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dance class was great fun.  There were about 7 or so of us, and we were basically all beginners, and so it was an excellent experience.  Had some people been experts at samba, I would probably have felt like I used to in Year 10 Dance at school.  There´s another one today, and a group of us are going to attend another 2 next week but outside of school.  Apparently, its going to be a proper workout, so, combined with the walk to and from school, 50 minutes each way, I might just burn off the kilos I´m eating at lunch!!  Our teacher may or may not be gay, but he´s certainly quite camp, which might be part of the job criteria. The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;Afro-Brazilian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; dance stuff was good, and we had a little routine worked out, but the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;samba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; was quite tricky, and just looked like a dance for people who don´t want to take their feet off the ground for too long.  I much prefer the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;Afro-Brazilian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; moves - I wouldn´t be surprised if I could work my patented chicken dance into it somewhere. A bunch of us went for a walk and chatted by the beach afterwards, and it was really good to have some company for a bit longer in the day than usual.  I think everyone is finding the days long and not enough to do between school ending and dinner.  We´re all getting through the books we brought with us to read much faster than expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, today I decided to buy some books if I could find them, in a bookstore in the giant mall, the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Shopping Barra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.  Firstly though, I got myself a pot of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;açai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.   This is one of the best things I´ve ever eaten.  For 4 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Reais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, you get a  pot of  the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;açai &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;fruit, blended with ice, and topped with banana and granola.  It´s refreshing and filling at the same time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Açai &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;is a fruit from the Amazon, which the Indians have been eating for centuries because of its nutrional value - it´s filled with all sorts of vitamins and protein.  Yum yum.  The 4 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Reais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; I save from walking instead of taking the bus have now found a new purpose!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked along the beach and then headed inward to the shopping centre.  It´s huge.  There´s a bigger one slightly out of town, which was planned as the biggest mall in Brazil.  Apparently, some guy now plans to build another in Brazil somewhere which will be the biggest in South America.  Good luck to him.  Anyway, the centre itself was pretty standard and the clothes not cheap at all.  If you think you can go to Brazil and buy shed loads of stuff for cheaper than at home, you are mistaken, unless you get it all from the street, in which case, yes, but it´ll fall apart in a short while.  Oddly, Zara has conquered Brazil too (which should make my dad happy).  Anywho, I found the shop, and purchased a dictionary and the only book I deemed worthy to buy - Austen´s &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Emma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.  The rest of the selection of literature in English was dominated by Danielle Steel and Harry Potter.  Blame the American tourists for that (and the McDonald´s, Dominos, Pizza Hut, Subway etc).  So, now I don´t need to pace myself so much with my books, which is good, as I would be so bored in the afternoons, and the flight home without something to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, there is an inter-cultural meeting at a bar/restaurant in Barra.  We are going to meet up with some local Brazilian students who are trying to learn English, and just get to know each other.  Should be interesting, but I will soon reach my limit in conversation, unless they are really interested in me describing my personal characteristics.  As for the weekend, I´m not too sure what the plan is, but I might go to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Bonfim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; which isn´t too far away but looks pretty cool.  It really depends on what the weather is like, as I don´t want to be in the middle of nowhere during a tropical rainstorm.  What´s really sad and annoying is that thje churches here are some of the most amazing in the Portuguese style and in the Catholic world.   They are simply laden with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;solid gold and silver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, but because of this, they are closed pretty much all the time out of fear of theft.  So, even though the guidebook tells you there are all these things to see, more often than not, you cannot.  I also cannot figure out when museums are open/closed.  Certainly, on weekends they seem shut.  Arghhhhh.  Maybe it will be something to bring up with the students tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-6816078028103057946?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6816078028103057946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/6816078028103057946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/bell-tolls-for-end-of-week-1.html' title='The bell tolls for the end of week 1'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-4474449978912048754</id><published>2007-07-04T17:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:22:15.608+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Once bitten, twice shy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Arghhhhh, I´ve been attacked!! No, not by men looking for a watch to steal, but by mosquitos! Goddamn. It´s horrible - I´ve got bites all over me. Big red blotches. Gross. Anyway, I´ve slapped on more suncream (with insect repellant built-in) than my skin can absorb today as a precaution.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Let me tell you a bit about my Pousada. It´s very nice, though when I arrived there on Sunday evening, I thought bloody hell. Brazil feels a bit like India in many ways. It´s hot and sticky, it smells in some places like human excrement and wee, there´s posh areas with big metal gates so the riff-raff cannot get in, and there´s beggars and thieves. To add to this, my room in the Pousada is painted the exact same horrid shade of green as my village home in Barwala, India. Thus, when I got here, I felt like a snob. But then, after a day I realised that the Pousada was great, and the green was growing on me. My room is massive, given that it´s meant for 3 people, but there´s only tiny me in it. It has a sink, a ceiling fan, a safe, and somewhere to plug in my hair straighteners (lol). There are plenty of bathrooms, and mine is 2 metres from my bedroom. It´s immensely clean, and the shower spurts out lukewarm water, a blessing after 30-degree heat and humidity. Each morning, the family who run it wake up at the crack of dawn to bake fresh bread and cakes and prepare the eggs and fruit for the breakfast buffet. Compared to some big hotels I´ve stayed in around the world, what we get for breakfast here is very good: fresh local fruit (melons, pineapple, oranges, tinsy-winsy bananas and some that I have never seen before, and so haven´t tried yet), scrambled eggs, fruit juice, coffee and the delicious home-made, warm vanilla cake that I cannot help but take giant slabs of. Mmmmmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Anyway, I should get some lunch, and then I will return to the school, for my first Afro-Brazilian dance class. &lt;em&gt;Samba!&lt;/em&gt; Oh, by the way, Salvador is 4 hours behind London time (hence why I´m getting lunch and you´re probably just getting ready for dinner). Peace out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-4474449978912048754?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/4474449978912048754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/4474449978912048754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/once-bitten-twice-shy.html' title='Once bitten, twice shy'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-7317766686556415474</id><published>2007-07-03T19:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:22:31.588+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My first day at school!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;Today is my first day at school, and first access to the internet for a while (hence why there are two posts on one day). The school is really nice - there are loads of other people here, starting at the same time. They quickly determined that my grasp of Portuguese was restricted to names of food and words you pick up from airports (exit, toilet, arrival, departure etc). Thus, I was placed in the beginners class with 3 other students from across the globe (New York, Sweden, Taiwan), and a nutty teacher. So far, we´ve accomplished quite a bit in the 3 hours or so that we´ve had today, and there´s homework to do too! The school must have at least 25-30 students here at the moment, some only coming for a week or so, others here for like 2 months. A group of us went to eat at a local vegetarian restaurant (oh the joy) where food is priced by the kilo. Today there´s a cooking class, but I´m excited about the dance and Capoeira classes that are scheduled for the rest of the week. There´s also excursions and meetings with Brazilian students to keep me occupied. The school is a short bus-ride from the Pousada, and costs only 2 Reais (pronounced &lt;em&gt;hee-yais&lt;/em&gt;), so I´ll be taking that every morning, but I will probably walk back, because I need some exercise. The school is located in the Barra district, which is home to the upper middle-class (and, sadly, noticeably lighter-skinned) Brazilians, whereas the Pelourinho is very African. So, while its safe to walk around here until 10pm, its not recommended that you are out by yourself in my area as soon as the sun sets, which is a shame, because you can feel like a couped up chicken. Anyway, I´m off home now, and will probably be meeting people to enjoy the partying in Pelourinho tonight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Also, just to let my nearest and dearest know, I am being safe and careful when I go out, so please don´t worry. Email me whenever you like, but don´t call because it´s seriously pricey. Text is okay though. &lt;em&gt;Ate logo!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-7317766686556415474?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/7317766686556415474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/7317766686556415474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-first-day-at-school.html' title='My first day at school!'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-3112137592795938273</id><published>2007-07-03T18:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:23:08.838+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday 2nd July</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Right, so it´s my first proper day here, and already this trip has been insane! Since I haven´t written in a while, let me start a couple of days back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;My journey to Salvador has been a long and typically tiring one, with more queues than I had ever anticipated, which is bad given than I cannot stand waiting around for anything. Call it impatience, call it being quintessentially English, but although I can form a line well, as soon as I´m in one I can´t help complaining and moaning. Since most foreigners do not understand the art of queuing, especially at airports, this simply aggrevates my condition. Getting to Lisbon was painless enough, but leaving there for Brazil was a nightmare. Firstly, everyone decided to steal the taxi that I had specifically asked the hotel I stayed in overnight to call for me. After about 10-15 minutes of people jumping into taxis that I had been blatantly waiting for (patiently, I might add), I was finally offered a taxi-share by a very nice Portuguese man. Bless his soul, he didn´t even accept my money for the ride. We parted in the jumble that was the queue to Salvador/Madeira check-in. I hope he has a good holiday - there should be more people like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I waited for an hour to check-in at Lisbon, and then another 45 minutes to get through passport control. There were only 10 minutes remaining until my flight was scheduled to take-off when I finally got to my gate. I have never freaked out as much as I did then, envisioning myself being stranded at Lisbon airport for 4 weeks. In true Brazilian style, no-one was fussed about the countless passengers in the same predicament, and so we finally climbed into the sky an hour later. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;On landing here I was greeted by a rep from&lt;em&gt; Dialogo&lt;/em&gt;, and another girl starting at the school for the same duration as me. She´s practically fluent in Portuguese and is staying with a host family, so I won´t see her around too much. There are a few other people at the school staying at my Pousada, so this is handy. There is a big group of American students here too, so there are plenty of English-speaking people around (for the moment), which is a little comfort. It can be pretty strange to hear voices but not understand anything for hours on end, and to have to perform a pantomime to get yourself understood. Anyhow, onto my first night here....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;After taking a walk around the Pelourinho (which is the region the Pousada is in, and is the historic centre of the town), I got a feel for the place and people. The town looked really pretty as the sun was setting, and just to rub the romance of it all in my face, there were dozens of loved-up couples around the Praca Municipal watching the sky turn into all shades of orange and purple. Feeling tired and alone, I decided to skip back to my room for an early night. Instead I met up with Dan and Rory, for some early evening, home-made Caiprinhas. A few lethal strength drinks and a mild bust-up with some of the US girls later, we left the Pousada in search of pizza. This quickly became a deal, and then a wait and then a search for, some illegal substances (weed and a gram of coke, if you were wondering). The innocent-looking guy who had taken the cash from the guys and promised goods had not returned, and so in haste, another deal was made, with some random dodgy looking guy in the street. Money was exhanged for a small parcel of white-powder. Annoyed, and in need of a hit, the guys and I returned to the Pousada to unravel the package and enjoy the effects. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I should stress here that I was merely tagging along, and was not part of the buying or taking or desiring of drugs.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; The guys had been played!! Inside the plastic wrapper was nothing more than another, &lt;em&gt;empty&lt;/em&gt;, plastic wrapper. Pizza-less and jetlagged, I decided to call an end to the odd evening´s adventures, leaving Dan riled up to go out and kick some ass for the scam. I found out today that he ended up in a fight with 8 other drug-gang people, and won! This place is truly whacky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;After a night of restless and disturbed sleep, I woke to the sound of drums beating outside my window. Today, the 2nd of July, is a bank holiday to mark the independence of Bahia from Portugal. It is celebrated with a huge parade, filled with bands, dancers, performers, Indians on horseback and troops of police. It was like being at the Notting Hill Carnival, only without the Soca, and with more precussion-based beats. I walked down to Largo Do Pelourinho and watched the paraders make the tricky climb up the steep cobbled street, in blazing morning sunlight. It was a terrific atmosphere, with everyone really enjoying the flag-waving, mid-morning Skol-drinking and nationalism of it all. Eventually, the sun got the better of me, and I headed back to the Pousada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Later in the day, it absolutely chucked it down with rain, so I stayed indoors until I deemed it bright enough to go out. The parade was still going on, and it was now 4pm! I had yet another walk around the Pelourinho, and bought myself amazing corn-on-the-cob from a street vendor. It was wrapped up in the corn husk and drenched in so much butter, which dripped down my arms and onto my clothes. Ah well, it started to rain soon after, so I hot-footed it to a local internet cafe &amp;amp; restaurant, where I bought myself a mojito (you pronounce the&lt;em&gt; j&lt;/em&gt; here). I pulled out my book to read while I waited for the rain to clear, and immediately became noticed by other travellers. I met two French people, a cute young couple from near Paris, who are off to Sao Paulo tomorrow (by boat!) but who have my email so we can meet up in a week´s time when they return. Another guy was a French (but lives in Tahiti) dentist, who works for 2 months and then travels for 2 months. What a life!! There were others too, but they were less interesting (a Brazilian who speaks English in a horrid American accent, and a spaced Californian). The rain didn´t quit, so I had a quick bite to eat there, before running home in torrential rain. It was a shame, because if it hadn´t been raining, the festival would have spilled out onto the streets until the early hours. Ah well, apparently, every Tuesday evening in the Pelourinho is a massive party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;PS: I drank my first ever beer, a Skol, and it was gross.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-3112137592795938273?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/3112137592795938273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/3112137592795938273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/07/tuesday-2nd-july.html' title='Monday 2nd July'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-1002861697085515067</id><published>2007-06-29T10:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:23:32.231+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Check-In Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's been a funny old couple of months since my last post here.  Exams have terrifyingly come and gone, results have been published, and much celebratory wine has been consumed to mark the end of a proverbial era.   It's a very strange feeling having finished University completely now, and moving back home after about 3 solid years of living in my own place is also a little odd.  I keep getting the urge to pick up a problem sheet and start performing some calculations, but I'm sure that will soon pass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After packing and unpacking, its now time for me to prepare for my travels, which begin tomorrow.  In a moment of madness I decided to buy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;The Rough Guide to Brazil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, despite the fact that it (and most other guides to Brazil) tend to concentrate their efforts on describing Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo.  Nevertheless, it has been an interesting read, particularly because the highlights of the Bahia region include: Capoeira, Salvador's nightlife, Candomble, and the local cuisine.  This has all made me very excited, but the cuisine especially, so let me explain why.  Salvador was where the Portuguese first landed back in the 1500s, and for 300 years was the most important port and city in the South Atlantic.  As I've mentioned before, it was Brazil's main slave port, and as a result the population of Salvador and surrounding areas in the north of the country is predominately black (compared with the German and Italian roots of people in the south).  Thus, African influences in music, cuisine and religion are everywhere in the city, juxtaposed with the stark colonial architecture and heavily adorned Catholic churches.  So, while sitting among very European-style buildings, I will be dining on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;vatapa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; (bright yellow porridge of palm oil, coconut, shrimp and garlic), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;deep fried bean cake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;quindim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; (small cake of coconut flavoured with vanilla).  As a snack, I might approach a street vendor and purchase fried bananas dusted with icing sugar, or fried sticks of sweet batter covered with sugar and cinnamon!!!  My mother's concerns that I would be under-fed are, I believe, entirely unfounded!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As you can imagine, I am quite excited about the trip now and about beginning my lessons and immersing myself in a totally different culture.  I will of course send you postcards and keep you updated on my adventures via this blog.  Let me know how you are doing too, and what exciting things you are up to this summer.  Expect my next post some time early next week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh yes, and for anyone who's interested, the school I'm going to has its own website: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;http://www.portuguese-in-brazil.eu/eng/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-1002861697085515067?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1002861697085515067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/1002861697085515067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/06/check-in-time.html' title='Check-In Time'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-8172298337432793833</id><published>2007-05-07T16:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T16:53:43.004+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Brazilian Flag</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Following my almost religious reading of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Brazil: Life, Blood, Soul&lt;/span&gt;, I have learnt a thing or two about the country, in terms of history, culture, politics and so on.  Salvador was once the capital of Brazil when it was still part of the Portuguese empire, and so was rich and prosperous and an important port.  The churches in Salvador are lavishly dripping with tonnes of gold and silver, but sadly outside, people roam around with no shoes on.  Being a busy port city, it had its fair share of slaves coming and going (well, mainly coming), even long after slavery was abolished by England.  Like any colony of past great empires, the history of the place is tainted with cruelty and inequality.  I don't expect that this will have changed much; with favelas and the central business district lying in close proximity, I fully acknowledge that the atmosphere will be a muddled one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyway, what I really wanted to tell you about is the nation's flag, and if I hadn't been reading this book, I would never have picked up on how interesting it is.  There are certain flags which one would recognise immediately: UK, USA, Spain, Japan, Germany, and maybe even Brazil, thanks to the publicity it receives during World Cup season!  But it's one I've certainly never paid much attention to, and there is a hell of a lot of detail I've missed.   It is possibly the "most laborious flag to get right throughout the five continents."  It has a &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;green&lt;/span&gt; background, a &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;yellow&lt;/span&gt; rhombus and a &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;blue&lt;/span&gt; coffee bean.  An elliptical band runs through the coffee bean with the words &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ordem E Progresso&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the result being &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;that an illiterate or a young child wouldn't have the slightest chance of drawing the flag correctly.  Anyone could put together the St George's Cross!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Within the bean, there are stars, which appear in their correct constellations, and represent various cities of the country.  "You have to draw no less than five constellations inside half a coffee bean to get the flag right: only miniaturists with an astronomical bent need apply."  And the best thing: the flag is celebrated every 19th November.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-8172298337432793833?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/8172298337432793833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/8172298337432793833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/05/brazilian-flag.html' title='The Brazilian Flag'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8367471155155148091.post-4217533138976901151</id><published>2007-04-29T18:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:23:53.851+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer plans in brief</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span id="BlogViewId" sortmode="Normal" sortkey="" firsthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!480" lasthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!299"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Geneva,Arial,Sans-serif;"&gt;Yup, it's that time of the year again, when, instead of revising hard, I find myself easily distracted by what will be occuring after exams.  Come on, who doesn't drift off after days and days of solitary confinement and studying the complex behaviour of electrons and holes in a p-n junction?!  Exactly.  Thus, I've created a brand-spanking new blog, so that you can keep up with all that goes on this summer, though it's main purpose is to keep people informed about my activities in Brazil...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="BlogViewId" sortmode="Normal" sortkey="" firsthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!480" lasthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!299"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Geneva,Arial,Sans-serif;"&gt;So, for those interested, after I finish my last exams at the end of May, I will finally be the holder of a degree in Physics (well, okay, not until graduation, but humour me).  As long as I get a good grade, I'll be off in September to start a PhD in the broad areas of biophysics/nanotechnology/x-ray optics.  Essentially, I want to use &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;lasers &lt;/span&gt;and shoot various materials with them and see what pretty flames I produce.  Well, ok, there's more to it than that, but its fair to say I've jumped on the bandwagon and chosen areas which are fashionable and innovative at the moment.  Where I will go is not yet decided - partly because I haven't heard back from all the universities I applied to, and partly because I can't choose out of those that have offered me a place.  Basically it's a decision between Scotland and London, and I really wish someone else would make up my mind for me. Although, perhaps &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mystery University X&lt;/span&gt; will get their act together and reply, in which case, I'll have to decide between Scotland, London, and I think, the Midlands.  Hmmmm, tricky.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="BlogViewId" sortmode="Normal" sortkey="" firsthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!480" lasthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!299"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Geneva,Arial,Sans-serif;"&gt;But, before the PhD starts, I'm planning to have a proper summer holiday.  Having worked every summer since I was 17, I've basically never experienced the full joy of a 3 month stretch of no study, no commitments and a hell of a lot of lounging around.  Maybe for a week or two, but never for 3 glorious months.  Henceforth, I have planned a super holiday.  A month in &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Brazil (Salvador, capital of Bahia) &lt;/span&gt;will be spent learning Portuguese and Brazilian dance.  There will be much rum drinking, fish-stew eating, and lazing on the pretty beaches (after class of course)......Hopefully, I will return without a voodoo curse on me (these things happen), or without becoming part of the illegal drugs export industry (again, it could happen).  Note, everyone will be getting traditional Brazilian flip-flops as their gifts from me.  It's the law apprarently.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="BlogViewId" sortmode="Normal" sortkey="" firsthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!480" lasthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!299"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Geneva,Arial,Sans-serif;"&gt;Next, I'll be heading into the skies again, but this time to the possibly hotter and closer climes of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 128, 0);"&gt;Turkey (Istanbul),&lt;/span&gt; accompanied by my other half.  A week or so of wandering through markets, eating as much baklava as the stomach can bear and chillin' by a pool in the afternoon heat sounds like a dream come true.  Novelty Fez hats are the gift of choice from here, so let me know your head size in advance!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="BlogViewId" sortmode="Normal" sortkey="" firsthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!480" lasthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!299"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Geneva,Arial,Sans-serif;"&gt;After that, it may just be time to sit at home for the last couple of weeks of August and spend time with the family, who I haven't really seen very much over the last 3 years.  Plus, I'll have a base from which to travel to see friends who've spread themselves across this land.  And it'll be time to whip out the barbie and enjoy the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;English summer&lt;/span&gt; with a burnt sausage and a glass of Pimms (minus the cucumber bits).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="BlogViewId" sortmode="Normal" sortkey="" firsthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!480" lasthandle="cns!98890E8D0DD90907!299"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Geneva,Arial,Sans-serif;"&gt;Ahhhhhh, sounds brill.  In the meantime, it's back to those pesky electrons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8367471155155148091-4217533138976901151?l=comleitefrio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/4217533138976901151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8367471155155148091/posts/default/4217533138976901151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://comleitefrio.blogspot.com/2007/04/summer-plans-in-brief.html' title='Summer plans in brief'/><author><name>Parminder</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
