Yes, I am wearing Mama's socks. Don't ask.
I never thought leftover sewage tunnels could be so much fun.
I am flower, hear me roar.
For the long weekend of Children’s Day, we fled to the coast with our neighbors and their daughter. The coast of Rio Grande do Sul is mostly one long sandy beach – though they say it’s not all that by Brazilian standards because of cold currents and silty water from the Rio Plata. Where we were, in Torres, along the border with Santa Catarina, is apparently the best beach of the state and kicks-off the better beaches to the north. Several high basalt mesas distinguish Torres from beaches to the south. At the top of one were paragliders and a street vendor selling Catholic saints on small boats. At the top of another was an interesting mix of flora, including passion flowers and cactuses.
It was great to get out of town, having been in POA for over a month, and having not yet seen the beach while in Brazil. It also gave me an opportunity to wear my all U.V. protective suit, hat, shoes, and sunglass combo. I may look funny, but, hey, I don’t need to find a Halloween outfit. I’m going as the ol’ kid-of-paranoid-and-gear-happy-North-American- parents. Sadly, this photo was taken minutes before I began shivering and began the painful onslaught of a 103-degree fever. Ah, the benefits of daycare. Nonetheless, the folks enjoyed a Thai shrimp dinner made from mom’s peanut butter, as well as crab, fries, and beer on the beach. Polar is the state’s cheap beer and a favorite of Exu Tiriri – but that’s another story. 
Last month I started interacting with Brazilian children on a more formal basis – at nursery school. The playgrounds in the public parks are okay, but I was getting a little bored with the metal and concrete, the ground is often wet, and meeting new kids everyday has its drawbacks. But around the corner from my house is Carrossel, a small preschool that has a class of under-two year-olds, which is unusual in these parts. They play inside, on a covered patio, and in a private back yard, all filled with state-of-the art plastic toys and arts-and-crafts. So I gave it a try. 
I go see the "kids" (the word I say every time my folks ask me if I want to go to Carrossel) four mornings a week. It’s actually just four hours a day, but during that time I play and eat both snack and lunch. My Portuguese is improving - my first words were beijos (kisses) and arroz (rice). First we kiss, then we eat. Sounds good to me. Since this is gaúcho territory, once a week we lunch on what they call churrascuria. But by now I’m no fool to the difference. Where are the all-you-can-eat chicken hearts, pork ribs, and beef sirloin, not to mention the “traditional” dance show?
Aside from the inevitable language confusions –- for instance, they call snack “lanche” -- the other big difference from my daycare in the States is that in this class, I’m one of the oldest ones. It’s a bit different being a role model and I miss hanging out exclusively with the big kids. But we often get to play with the older kids outside or in their room which has a cool plastic house. One of the triplets in my class and I played on the first day I was there. I mainly worked the counter, while she cooked up the salgadinhos and feijoada. Aside from the triplets, I tend to play with Julia, Chico, Pedro, Clara and Tiago. The mornings are light there as most parents drop their kids off in the afternoon. But my afternoons are too busy with napping to stay all day.
