|
 The summer of 1970 was not an easy one for me. I would be leaving my country to live in a foreign one. I would be leaving all my friends, the school I had attended since kindergarten (1963), and even my dog behind.
My biggest worry was the money thing. How would I make change? How would I know how much money to give when I bought something? I had spent the first thirteen years of my life living in São Paulo, Brasil, and attending Escola Graduada de São Paulo. My father worked for Sylvania, and had been transferred there when I was less than a year old. I had never seen snow, I knew cruzeiros, not dollars, and thongs (the sandals, not the underwear) were called zorries. Now I was moving to a place called Indiana, which to me was a foreign country. It's not that I had never been to the United States. We went there every two years on home leave, sailing there aboard the Del Sud or Del Norte, part of the Delta Ship Line. Depending on whether you had crossed the equator or not, you were either a Shellback or Pollywog. My father was King Neptune one year aboard ship. There was food all day long, beautiful flying fish gliding in the air beside us as we cruised along, and a great pool on board. But the United States wasn't home to me. It was someplace we visited to buy Stride-Rite shoes and good clothes, along with Barbie, her best friend Midge, and Super Balls. I suppose that's why I don't always jump on the "I love the U.S.A." bandwagon as quickly as everyone else. Or get worked up about immigration like some people do. One of the things I miss most about Brazil, is Farinha Láctea. I will never forget the smell and taste of that cereal! I can even eat it "raw." I was elated when I found it in my mother's grocery store in Danbury, CT, which has a large Brazilian population. I can almost pretend I am back home as I window shop up and down Main Street in Danbury. Unfortunately, I had to guess how to make Farinha Láctea, since the whole can is in Portuguese, and I don't remember a word of it, even though I spoke it fluently at three, and had to translate between my mother and the maids. "Maids? You had maids?" My American friends were speechless. "You must have been rich," they said. I couldn't make them understand that everyone had maids, it was no big deal. We also had a cook. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with them, eating the Portuguese rolls that were delivered to us each day (and no bread in the U.S.A. has tasted as good since), and having Coca-Cola in a cup, pretending it was coffee. We did not live in a jungle as many of my new American classmates thought. We actually saw movies, went to Holiday on Ice and to the circus in Brazil. We went to pizzerias where waiters wore dinner jackets, and you ate pizza with a knife and fork, something I still do today. We went to Guarujá, a beautiful beach, and I had friends from places like Texas, Michigan, South Africa, Holland, England, and Denmark. And I did see President Dwight Eisenhower in a parade, although I don't remember him. My father and mother had beautiful dinner parties, we had a pool in the backyard, and I have numerous scars on my knees from falling while riding my bike and roller skating up and down Avenida Baía. The luxury car in São Paulo was a Ford Galaxy. We didn't have one of them. We had three cars during our time in Brazil: a Willy's Jeep; a Simca; and a Volkswagen Bug, with plaid seats. After thirty-six years in the U.S.A. I know how to make change, I have seen snow, and yes I learned to love the U.S.A., but something in me yearns for my happy childhood in Brazil. And a good churrascaria! Elizabeth Barrett lives in Southington, Connecticut, USA. She is an aspiring writer and welcomes comments at
This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
.
|
Subscribe to this comment's feed
Afterall millions of Brazilians dream of doing what you did....but rarely the opposite.
There should be a reason !
A VERY GOOD REASON......in my opinion !
There is not an estimated motre than 1 million Americans illegally in Brazil. Why should they....anyway !