I’ve been inspired with the observation that when you do mundane things in a foreign country, suddenly it becomes much more fascinating. For instance, last weekend, I rented a car, but in Brazil. Well, actually, the Brazilian brother I was with had to rent it because of various complications involving stolen wiring. It took us close to an hour to get new rental arrangements figured out.

So, some of the things I did last weekend were fairly mundane, but in Brazil. I got stuck in traffic, but in Brazil. I went to a zoo, but in Brazil. I experienced freezing temperatures, but in Brazil. I ate at a fondue restaurant, but in Brazil. I drove, but in Brazil… etc. etc. You get the idea.

We drove down to Porto Alegre for our Sunday outing. That was cool, because we went to a coffee shop, but in Brazil. When one goes to a coffee shop in Brazil, apparently one must sit down and enjoy the tortures of table service. One of the guys accidentally told one of the baristas to “get out of his way” while attempting to order another drink, so that was a good time. I think she figured out that he didn’t speak Portuguese.

The cleaning and mucking out of houses continues apace. There are about seven American boys and two Brazilians here at the moment. We have three electric pressure washers and one gasoline-powered. It’s quite easy to find oneself twiddling his thumbs wondering what to do next. It seems the best approach is to split up into a muck-out crew and a wash crew. This works out whenever we have houses that need both a muck-out and a wash, but it seems that we are running into more houses that have been mucked out already and just need a wash.

I’ve been using my Frogg Togg rain suit every day so far (minus one) and it is in a sorry state. When one is pressure washed twice a day while wearing a $30 rain suit, the rain suit begins to show its age quite quickly. I’ve been wondering for close to a week whether it will keep me dry until the end. I did have to reinforce the seams with duct tape, which helped a little, I think. It turns out they were designed for rain, not for bleach, nails, mud, and pressure washing. But then I have to remember that the motorcyclist suits that most of the others are wearing were probably not designed for repeated pressure washing either.

Some other highlights include the two times we had churrasco last week. Now, churrasco is pretty much barbecue, but in Brazil. It’s just salt plus beef, chicken, sausage, or lamb roasted on a spit over a fire. Delicious. The men all hang out by the meat and get it fresh out of the fire while the women go and do their thing.

I was in the zone earlier while writing this, but I got interrupted to go eat churrasco and fixin’s again. Now it’s late and I must go to bed, but in Brazil.

This was written last night, but publishing time, is, as you can see, now.