Iguazu Falls

RIP Lisa Left Eye. Did you know her sister's name was Reigndrop?

I know it's controversial, but I'm taking a stance. The Argentinian side of Iguazu is more beautiful than the Brazilian side. 

I went to the Brazilian side first, with a Brazilian lawyer named Rafaela and a Romanian med student named Teo. Rafaela said cool stuff. When I told her how amazing it is that Iguazu is in her country, she told me it belongs to all of us. When I mentioned my bad Spanish accent, she said bad accents don't matter as long as people understand you. 

Walking around took two hours, and I got baptized by the waterfalls, or cataratas. There were yucky possum like animals that tourists were petting. Heck no. Rabies can be fatal people. 

Passing through immigration was relatively quick and easy. Brazilians are the nicest, so i had lots of help. The Brazilian side was six hours. I walked around, took the train to Devil's throat, and went on a boat to get up close and personal (and wet!) with the waterfalls. The guy on the boat eased us close to the waterfall and then said "Otra?" And then we all yelled "Vamos!" And then repeated the process. Swimming under a waterfall is on my list of thirty things to do before I'm thirty. Although I didn't swim, I'm going to say it counts only because it was so much fun.

I also went to las tres fronteras, which is where Paraguay, Brazil, and Argentina meet. I was in three places at once! I'm basically Mandy Moore in A Walk to Remember. WHY WAS THAT MOVIE SO SAD. Shane West was totally my bf in 2002. 

But en serio, remember when she had a list of things she wanted to do before she you-know-what and one of them was to be in two places at once and he took her to the Virginian border? Romance.

Anything. Can be a slam. Poem. If you say it like this.

I had the entire hostel to myself last night anddddd I felt like a queen. The staff made my bed and did my dishes. 

I did the Vila Magdalena free walking tour. The tour guide started off by telling us that people always ask if she is Chinese or Japanese. She then declared that she is neither - she is Brazilian! I met another Brazilian named Lucas, who was way cooler than me. And I met another American on her bar trip, named Marisol Sternke, who was cooler than Lucas and me combined.

I met a British guy who has been traveling for the past year and who has been robbed six times. He called me a freedom fighter and I told him that the robberies are less of a Colombia problem and more of a you're-an-idiot-knucklehead problem. He was robbed at knifepoint and gunpoint (they got him from the front and the behind) but after talking to him for five minutes I wanted to rob him too. Some travelers are the worst.

But then I met Marisol, who went to GW and took the NY bar. The first thing she said was that she expected to have to take it in February  and we both laughed a bit too hard. She invited me to a slam poetry event in the evening at a cultural center. I thought, is she my Brooke Acevedo in Brazil?!

We parted ways and I went to MASP, or the São Paulo Museum of Art. Free on Tuesdays! The museum was smaller than expected. I'm glad it was gratis.

I met up with Marisol and we chatted about how much law school broke us/is the worst. She is from Kansas and her dad is in the Air Force. She seems too progressive for Kansas. Marisol lived in West Africa for two years and worked at a domestic violence shelter before law school. I sent her to Rosemary.

The slam poetry event was full of girl power - grl DJ, grl poet, grl dancer, grl bartender, and mostly grl attendees. The lady tried to pass the mic to me (can you imagine?!) and I thought about who? The one and only Leslie Knope.

Marisol and I shared a meal and she told me about why she's traveling alone (heartbreak), how she is dealing with life post law school (nightmares) and where she hopes to end up (government). It was refreshing to talk to someone who is on the same rollercoaster. I told her that vulnerability breeds intimacy (a line I love) and she sent me a ted talk the next day about a woman who studies vulnerability. I plan to read her book when I get home.

Depilação

My Monday mission was to get a depilação, aka a Brazilian in Brazil!

I went to this super hip coffee spot called Coffee Lab that my super hip hostel worker suggested. If I fail the bar I am moving to São Paulo and studying there. It was hands down the best coffee of my entire life. No milk, no sugar, just pure bliss. I got it paired with chocolate and cheese and the workers asked me which one I liked best. I didn't need to taste to know that the chocolate was better. They also asked me to say some English sentences they couldn't pronounce and then laughed as they tried to attempt them. One sentence was "Can I take it off?" It sounded frisky but I didn't ask. I liked the place so much I stayed for carrot cake, which was the worker's favorite. It did not disappoint.

Since all the museums and restaurants were closed on Monday, I decided to get that Brazilian. I was nervous! I did my research so I knew the word and could point to it when asked. I found a classy place, and when she asked where I wanted to get it done I pointed to my gine. The woman kept using the pronoun "he" and I mentally prepared for a male waxer. 

She charged me a steep gringo tax and I gave her a sly look but she knew I wanted it. It should have cost me R$25 but she charged me R$65 and I gave R$70. Still only cost me $22 sucka! That shit in the land of the free costs me $65 so we both win. The waxer (a woman! Hooray!) didn't speak English, so I considered it less of a gringo tax and more of a translation fee. The wax was not as painful as the silence between us.