Anyway, these pizzas might not be healthy, but they are definately the best pizzas I have ever eaten. They don’t taste like South-African pizza, which I quite like. Have a look at this meneer:

These guys won many many awards for their pizzas, so this is definitely a thing to try in Brazil. Apparently these pizzas are Brazilian pizzas, so it will not be like eating McDonalds in Italy. Try it.

The main website is at http://www.casabraz.com.br, and the pizza Braz (name of this restaurant) site is at http://www.casabraz.com.br/index2.html.

And no, I did not finish it all last night. It was dinner, breakfast and lunch!

So at the MIH office in Brazil they have a massive hi-def TV, and a Nintendo wii. Fantastic! there’s also a spectacular espresso machine, and as a non-espresso drinker when i arrived, I am now a staunch espresso drinker.

Believe it or not, here’s Otavio playing wii in office hours.

Manoel kicking butt.

Chester is obsessed (in a good way; it’s for health reasons he says ) with dancing games. I have no idea what it’s really called, but here he is, playing his new dance game on the work wii.

Espresso comes from this fantastic machine

From our window, you can see a massive hole in the ground. It was explained to me that the city is expanding the metro (underground trains) and this big hole used to be the place where all the earth moving equipment entered the underground areas. About a year ago, the whole thing collapsed, killing 10 people. the hole is so big, that you cannot believe that this whole area is supposed to be level!

Anyway, done with the boring stuff, let’s talk about the bars

Felippo, who met me for drinks the first Sunday, sent me a list of all the places we went to.

Sunday Lunch
Salve Jorge - http://www.barsalvejorge.com.br/vila.asp

Monday Night
Vaca Véia - http://www.vacaveia.com.br/

Tuesday Dinner
A Figueira Rubayat - http://www.rubaiyat.com.br/figueira/

Tonight is Sunday night, and we just came back from Figueira again. Man, what a fantastic restaurant.

On Monday night, at Vaca Véia, I had my first bad experience as a tourist. This guy, and you all have seen the type, was standing by the bar. He was over 50 years old, wearing a shirt that was too tight and too young for him, with a backpack draped over his shoulder. He was eying us, and soon enough he was standing close to our table, and the next thing we knew he was making contact: “So, are you all foreigners?” So obviously soon enough he was sitting at our table, taking over the conversation, and making a nuisance of himself. the next thing, he asks me where I am from. I say South Africa, and he says to me: “Oh, you have that black problem.”. He’s words hit me like a fist to the forehead, I could not believe that this guy first of all stigmatized me this way, and secondly that he could be so openly racist in front of people who obviously didn’t know. I asked him what he means, and he said “Yes, you have all those blacks in SA”. I said to him you are mistaken me and my country for something else, because we are not like than anymore. I turned away and spoke to one of the guys at the table. He left, only to come back soon after. When he sat down, i told him that I do not want to be rude, but this is a private party, and would he please leave. He then told Manoel in Portuguese that he just got butt-whipped by a South-African. He left, but I could see the guy looking at me from across the way. So, after a long while I go to the loo, and thought to myself if this guy follows me to the loo, there’s going to be trouble. I am certainly not a aggressive person, and would never get aggressive with other people, but something about this guy made me very uncomfortable. Sure enough, I was in the loo, alone, and this guy walks in. He goes: “ahhh, South-African, you come to my country, and you embarrass me in front of other people in my country. Well, it’s good to be around lot’s of friends when you are in a foreign country, because you never know what will happen to you when you are alone.” I looked straight at him, turned around, and walked out.

Fucker.

Manoel told me later that Brazil is very tense about hate speech, and I must admit that his one sentence really got under my skin. I was offended to the point where I feel aggression towards this guy, and for anyone that knows me, this will tell you everything you need to know.

1. Traffic in Sao Paulo is so bad, that all big companies offer helicopter transport for their top directors. Look at http://picasaweb.google.com/rohan.strydom/TaxiTripFirstDayToWork/photo?authkey=3tbuLdAcybg#5176172145888714786; you can see the heli pad on the top of the Brazilian Football fereration building. You see helipads all over the place. According to Manoel, Sau Paulo has the largest private helicopter transport industry in the world. This I can believe; seeing all those heliports, and also sitting on a 7 lane highway with thousands of other cars, standing completely still.
2. At MIH Brazil, people start work at 10am, and then finish at 8pm or later.
3. I still have to tell you about my first bad travel experience.
4. Civil engineering can go wrong.
5. Brazilians are very, very good at preparing food. Here is a teaser, and I admit it’s not a good one.
6. Why you should pay R150 for 6 pairs of socks.

That’s it.

Obrigado for reading my blog.

Anyway, so I got into the taxi; showed the driver the address, and off we went to Abril. Abril is the Naspers of Brazil, and is also the reason why I am here. Naspers bought 30% of Abril, so we are helping them a little bit to realise their dreams. I was told that the taxi guys might try their luck, and take me on a joy ride. So, after about 40 minutes (and the meter showing R$45) we stop in front of a very industrial looking building. The taxi driver did not speak a word of English, but when I, quite aggressively, shove the directions under his nose, he realised that I did not come all the way from dark Africa to come visit a warehouse. I later found out that the building was actually the printing building of Abril. So, of we went again. After 2 minutes the driver switched of the meter, and I realised we were both in trouble. another 75 minutes of the worse traffic ever, and I made it to the building.

Sao Paulo is home to about 18 million people, which makes it the 3rd biggest city in the world. 3rd. Third. Dit is foking groot. There are 6 million cars in the city. Apparently there is some kind of system where, depending on the last number of you number plate and the day of the week, you might not be allowed to drive your car that day. So any day of the week there might be (give or take a few 100000 cars) a million cars stuck at home. Of course some people are now the proud owners of two cars, so that they can drive to work whenever they want to, and also screw the system whenever they want to.

So after 2 hours I get to work, and as organised beforehand, I phone Felippo on his cellphone. He agrees to come down to explain to the people at reception that I don’t speak a word of the language, but they have to let me into the building regardless. While I wait for him, a security guard decide that I look a bit rough, and he drags me to reception; only to be forced by him to speak to a women who doesn’t speak English either. After a few tense moments I see Andre (from MIH) walk through the front door, and he saves the day for me.

I meet everyone, and was blown away at the hospitality everyone shows me.

what a lovely country.

Brazil, obrigado.

Photos of my first trip to work is available at http://picasaweb.google.com/rohan.strydom/TaxiTripFirstDayToWork?authkey=3tbuLdAcybg.

My colleague Felippo, took it upon himself to show me a bit of Sao Paulo on Sunday afternoon. We went to a part of the city that absolutely pumps on a Sunday afternoon. When we got there, he parked quite a bit away from the bars/restaurants, which I couldn’t understand, until he explained to me that by 2/3 in the afternoon there are so many people in the street that it will be impossible to get his car out again. And, amazingly enough, the place quickly started filling up. We couldn’t stay long though, as he had to get back to work, so I went back to my hotel. That night I went across the road to a small Italian restaurant, which turned out to be a absolutely amazing example of how good Italian food can be if it’s done right. Hardly anyone speaks English, so it’s a constant battle to get understood. Fortunately, I have been overseas before, so it’s easy enough to show hand signs (or rather hand signals) and use your intuition to get around. My cell phone is always with me, as it it literally my lifeline if I should get lost.

The restaurant in the hotel is a constant source of good laughs for me, as even though the management don’t consider it important to employ staff who can speak English, there is obviously a wish to keep the many foreigners in the hotel feel welcome. During breakfast, a country song played over the music system. Here are some of the lyrics I could make out:

Why don’t we get drunk, and screw?
I just bought a waterbed,
It’s filled up for me and you
They say you are a snuff queen,
Honey I don’t think that’s true,
So why don’t we get drunk, and screw?

You cannot make these kinda things up. I quick search with Google revealed it’s a Jimmy Buffet (no buffet and restaurant jokes, please) song.

Fantastic, I love new cultures. Brazilian people are extremely friendly, and make a major effort to make foreigners feel welcome. I must say, Brazil is a place to visit before you die.

On that note, I am going down to meet Ty and visit my favourite breakfast restaurant.

More later about my 2 hour cab ride to work.

http://www.georgev-etoile.com.br/etoile-ingles/itaim.asp

Felippo told me that the neighbourhood where the hotel is, is actually one of the best neighbourhoods in Sao Paulo. There are many, many high rise buildings around, and they all look first rate.

The first thing I notice is that, like South-Africa, all the building have serious security to protect them.

I asked Felippo about it, and he confirmed that, unlike what the Americans tell the world, the whole of South-America is not a war zone, and the security is only there because of “normal” crime. Strange how we South-Africans use words like “normal crime”, but that’s another story.

My hotel is here:

View Larger Map

Basically I walked all the way up the road, and all the way to the bottom again. It seemed to me that as soon as I got to the end of the road (no jokes, please), the surrounding_s_ quickly change_d_ to a very industrial area, and I am not brave enough to check it out yet.

Here are some photos:

http://picasaweb.google.com/rohan.strydom/EersteStapSaoPaulo

I was amazed at the waiters in the restaurant, no one would speak to me, offer me anything, or even acknowledge that I am there. I eventually got up and helped myself to some of the beautiful food and fantastic coffee. The self-served breakfast was really good, although a bit lonely
I left the restaurant and went for a walk; which I will get to in a minute. When I got back from my walk, I got into the lift, and while enjoying the 14 story journey to my floor, I read the small print on the lift poster, which said the restaurant will be closed at 10am (instead of 11) this Sunday, and guest wishing to order breakfast can enjoy it as room service! So, the waiters were not ignoring me, they just didn’t know how to tell me to piss off

MIH asked me if I want to come to Brazil to help with the final big push of our still secret product, and off course I agreed to come. Less than 2 days later I landed in Brazil, after flying business class for the first time on a international flight. All I can say is that if you have to money, fly business class and don’t ever sit with the plebs again
I got to my hotel just after 8pm, and even though I promised myself I will go out on the first night, I was asleep at 9pm, and only woke uo this morning at 7am! The room is amazing! It has a kitchen, gas stove, living area, bedroom with own TV,

walk-in closet, full bathroom with a jet bath! Let’s leave that story right here.

So, off to breakfast I go.

The problem with being a visitor in a foreign country, is that small things make your life just a little bit more difficult. For instance, my room is on the 14th floor, and when I got into the lift, I saw this:

Straight away I was confused; where the hell is the “G” button for ground. I tried “T” and it turned out to be the correct floor. I still don’t know what “T” stands for.

I walked into the dining room, and there were only 2 other people. The time was just after 10am, so I had another hour of eating my breakfast before the dining room close at 11am. I sat down, and after 5 minutes of no-one helping me, I got up and helped myself with fruit and coffee. I saw a stack of newspapers, looked through them, could not find a English language paper, and after asking for one, I was met with a blank stare and a very vigorous head shake. Ok, so no English newspaper for me, and apparently no service. I grabbed a Portuguese newspaper, as I had nothing else to read, and no waiter to speak to. As soon as I opened it up, I was confronted with a boob. A naked one. As a boob man, I certainly did not mind the photo, but I was amazed that this picture, of a mother breastfeeding her child, would be on the front page of a Sunday newspaper. In SA we certainly won’t see this.Ok, Felippo is here to pick me up for a day on the town, I will post more later.