I always thought it was an old wives tale to make people feel better after a bird poops on them, but now I know that it's true. I was on the hunt for an apartment in Ipanema.
Being a beggar who is a chooser, I wanted something within walking distance to both my portuguese and volleyball lessons that wasnt in a favela. I already had a nice offer to rent a room with my very generous and thoughtful friend Mariana in a newly renovated apartment with views of Christ the Redeemer and the Lagoa.
But it was located in the Botanical Gardens part of the Zona Sul region of Rio. And that would mean having to get a bike and I was traumatized from riding bikes when i flipped over the handlebars, puked up my breakfast and Bill Moeller came out and offered me a bandaid. When my mom drove me home, I remember laying on my family room couch, staribg at my bloody arms desperately hoping that I didnt have AIDS (I had just watched the Ryan White Story - you remember, with Angela from Who's The Boss? - and while it served it's purpose of scaring me, it didnt really do a good job of explaining how AIDS was contracted to a 6th grade suburban audience.) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0098237/
Point being, I was terrified of having to rely on a bike as means if transportation, even though the apartment is amazing and it would be fun to live with Mariana. I had lots of leads, but the bird poop confirmed that this one would work out.
I arrived at Jussara's place, praying that it wasnt a setup to steal my organs (I found the listing on www.easycuarto.com). Juju was nice, and speaks little english. She is 38, works at a bakery a few days a week and designs clothes too. The place has sewing machines and mannequins everywhere!
The place is a bit dated, but serves the purpose for a month, has an excellent location and the price is right. After much deliberation with my English friends from the hostel, Jade, Louisa and Alice, I decided to do it! I said good bye to the folks at the hostel- creepy Fabricio forced me into an extended hug, and gave me a t-shirt which is apparently some sort of ritual when he says good-bye to girls he has creeped out (see June 2011 blog entry for backstory).
I moved in the next day. Ahhhh. A big, bright room all to myself! A kitchen where I dont have to worry about anyone knicking my food! A shower where I dont need to wear flip-flops! And a bedroom where I can sit around in my underwear and get a whole night of sleep without drunk 19 year olds raising hell at 3am! I was so estatic to unpack. Then I realized I dont really have much to unpack. An entire wall is lined with built in wardrobes. I set to hanging up all my clothes. My excitement got the better of me, because soon I was hanging up t-shirts and tank tops, and even my dirty laundry!
I have 2 nightstands, a desk, a full length mirror, and even a hamper! There is a tv, washing machine, even wifi. Although it did alarm me a touch when I realized the wifi passcode translates to "I love gangstas." Life here in Rio isnt bad, well as long as Juju and her gangsta boyfriends dont steal my organs in the middle of the night.
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