Last Day: Home in less than 24 hours.

To be honest, I'm really not a sentimental person. That may come as a surprise to those of you who know me relatively well; but it's true. I am an emotional person, and here I think there's a difference. Though I am emotional, I don't dream; I don't get easily attached to someone or something; and I don't get sentimental. Usually.

It seems that with age, though, sentimental hormones kick in, or something. The last opera I sang in was the first performance where I've felt like I was really losing something important when it ended. Last year I went to the Black Hills Playhouse to work professional theater and, to be quite honest, hated it, but I made some connection with the people there and especially with the land, and when I left, I cried like a baby.

Here I am in Brazil, and until now I have felt sorry to go, but nothing more. I said goodbye to my friends a week ago before I traveled away from Ribeirao and sure, we all cried a little, because I will miss them and the future of our friendships is uncertain since we don't know where we'll be after college. Then today I came downstairs for lunch today and my host mother, Cynthia, and sister, Manuela, were standing at the bottom of the stairs with smiles on their faces.

And I felt like crying, because I knew they had bought something for me.

So I took the chocolate (which is for me and my mother) and said thank you, trying not to show that I was choked up (since they weren't). Then we had lunch.

So, to get sentimental on all of you (even though I'm not a sentimental person), I'm really going to miss this country and, even more, it's people. The people are what make the country here. Everyone is happy even when they're sad and everyone has an optimistic outlook on life and the lives of people around them. Brazilians say Brazil is a land blessed by God. Well, here I am, a young woman without a religion, who's not sure if there is a God, or if there is, if He blesses things, but I know that I feel blessed to be here-- truly blessed--by something. I think being here has opened up a totally different world for me. It's a wonderful feeling to feel at home in a country that isn't your own, that you've only been in for two months and yet you feel like you belong, even when you and everyone else know you are different. I know I can come back and will always be welcome. I know I have a graduate school invitation to USP. I know I can come back if I wish do more research. And I know I have a new career path that's opened up right in front of where I have been standing for the past three years of college. These things make me sentimental, definitely.
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If you've been reading these blogs, please comment on this last one with either simply your name or a message concerning how you've enjoyed it.

Writing this blog has been enjoyable for me, too. For one thing, it's helped me maintain (most of) the English language. But, also, I've been able to share my feelings and foreign experiences with friends, family, maybe even acquaintances, and most of all, with Americans.

United States: I'm coming home to you a stronger and better person, and I can't wait to see you tomorrow.

Melody

Day 55: A quick update about the beginning of the end

I've got a week and 3 days left in Brazil and, yes, I'm starting to get sentimental. This will be one of my last posts, because tomorrow morning I'm leaving for a road trip which will end at Yuka and her husband's farm on the border of Mato Grosso (a state in Brazil) and Bolivia. I'll stay there for about four days while I put together everything I've learned about Brazilian art song and ultimately develop a well-formed outline for my presentation: How to Sing Brazilian Art Song. There is a little town about 50 kilometers away from the farm which Yuka says has coffee shops and wi-fi, so perhaps I will get a chance to update my blog one of the days I'm away. If not, I get back a week from now, Sunday July 12, and I'll tell you all about my experience then.

Then I leave for the United States on July 14!

I miss the United States but I don't want to leave Brazil. Almost everyone I know has invited me back to stay with them at some point in the next year. I wish it was that easy! Just hop on a cheap plane and be in Brazil in no time; but Americans don't exactly have time to vacation whenever they'd like. Or the money. At the same time, I can't wait to get home, see my family and friends, and have a break from all this work (yes, it's been fun, the but the majority has been work, I admit)!

A semi-candid picture of me at the Botanical Gardens in Curitiba

Day 51: Curitiba

So yesterday I arrived in Curitiba and met Jeff's father's side of the family. How wonderful everyone is! I'm staying with Jeff's aunt. Yesterday we ate lunch out, then went shopping. After finding out I was a vegetarian, and that I don't eat chicken either--or fish, or bacon, or ham-- we went to the supermarket to buy some fresh veggies and fruits. And by "some" I mean $100 dollars worth (yeah, I already made a post on how wonderful the hospitality is here). I spent the afternoon at the house, eating, chatting, and watching TV. Of course, we Skyped with Jeff, which was very new to the family but very enjoyable.

This morning I met Jeff's grandfather, a very nice, polite, old-fashioned Brazilian gentleman. He, too, Skyped with Jeff in the afternoon. Then the family had lunch together. As he was getting ready to leave, he asked me if I was enjoying Brazil. I told him, "Of course, I'm loving it here. I'd love to come back and live here one day!" "Look," said Tia Maria, "He's crying!" Sure enough, he was. "How wonderful, how wonderful," he said through tears of happiness. When Jeff and his parents left Brazil, they left with the intention to come back, even though they never did. From talking to everyone, it really seems like many are unhappy that Jeff's family now wants to stay, and that Jeff has grown up as an American-Brazilian, not just as a Brazilian. For Jeff's grandfather to hear that someday the family, even if it skips one generation, might be reunited with its fatherland, he was overjoyed. It was wonderful to have met him, and I'm sure I will get another chance to see him in person.

Later in the afternoon, we went to the botanical park in Curitiba. How beautiful! Tia Maria insisted on buying me a jewelry box made from the Brazilian pine trees, which was very nice of her. After that, we went to the most enormous shopping mall I've ever seen. It must have been two miles of walking from one side to the other! We looked around, had a snack (which consisted of two small fries, half a pastel, and a soft serve ice cream cone), and then left.

Now I am back at the house, Tia Maria is making some dinner (which I am not hungry for, but will definitely eat because she makes really good food), and I am going to watch a little TV before bed. Tomorrow I fly to Sao Paulo the city, in order to watch A Noviça Rebelde, (The Sound of Music) and spend the Fourth by celebrating the death of Yuka's grandparents in some sort of Japonese commemoration which I don't yet understand.

Strange?

Yes, but this is my life here.

A picture I took of the botanical gardens in Curitiba. Ahead is a gigantic and beautiful greenhouse

Day 49: Don't Judge Me

But before you do, let me defend myself:

I've spent all the money I've needed to spend on books and other pieces of music and literature that I need for my research. I spent over $1,500 on research. I had money budgeted for rent in case I had to stay in an apartment in the city. Turns out I didn't. So, that was $1,500 dollars. Yes. YES, okay, I ADMIT IT!!

I used it on clothes...ehhee.

Anyway, if you can read that, you know my secret. It was money I had planned on saving when I got back to the U.S. For food, for tickets to the Met, maybe. But Brazil has made me a bit more vain, I suppose. Eek! I'll use the dresses for musical performances-- for example, my recital that is coming up next Spring.
One dress I got for $150 when the value was really $500. Lucky. Another I got for $600 when the value was really $800. I did a lot of bargaining. I'm proud of me. Here are some pictures of the $600 dollar one, before all the finishing.

Day 48: Weekend in Gabriel Monteiro

This weekend I went with my friend, Alana, to her hometown in Gabriel Monteiro, São Paulo. The city is really a tiny little town with a population of a little under 3,000 for the majority of the year. During this time, however, the population shoots up to around 15,000 because of Gabriel Monteiro's annual festival in honor of its patron saint, São Pedro. The pavillion where the food is served is in the shape of a U. The picture below shows the bottom part of the U, probably about 500 feet long. Picture this times 3. And the next night was even more packed! In the middle of the U is the town square, where concerts are held, as well as a carnival with rides and lots of Brazilian festival foods.


I had a great time. Alana's family was very nice and everyone was genuinely interested (like most Brazilians I meet here) about the differences between the United States and Brazil, and about what I thought about their country, their food, their people, and their ways. I made lots of friends. Both Saturday night and Sunday night we went to the festival (just a block down the street, in the center of town) and spent the night eating, going on rides, and dancing.

Last night, right before we left, the Sertaneja band Roby & Roger played. Sertaneja is a type of Brazilian country music that most Brazilians who live in the interior of southern Brazil enjoy. I did, too. Most of the time, when a band plays here, they're going to be amazing, or at least a better than they already sound on their CD. That's not too common in the United States, so I have a lot of respect (probably a bit more than I do when I'm in the States) for popular music here. I thought about my mom and how she'd enjoy this Brazilian country music and asked Alana if there was somewhere I could buy a CD.

They weren't selling CDs, but Alana's boyfriend found a security guard and told him who I was and what I wanted. The guard found a co-manager, who found the acutal manager, who told Alana's boyfriend that he didn't have any CDs but he wanted to invite me, Alana's boyfriend, and Alana onto the stage as soon as the show ended to meet Roby and Roger, and that after that he'd like us to come to the after-party they would be holding. It's amazing what the word "American" can inspire in individuals here. You'd think I was from Mars, not the U.S.

Because Alana and I had to catch the 11:50 bus which would take us home to Ribeirão, we couldn't stay for any after parties, or even to meet the performers. So, I won a free, used CD from the manager and we were on our way home. I said goodbye to Alana's huge family-- several of whom invited me to come back any time I wanted, especially if it was next year during the festival-- and we got back on the bus, preparing for our five hour trip back to Ribeirão Preto.

Wednesday I'm onto my next adventure: Curitiba. There I'll visit Jeff's family and, hopefully, the city. It's strange to be visiting people in Jeff's family who he hasn't seen since he was seven years old, and only talks to once every six months or so...

Alana and I at Festival São Pedro

Day 45: My Recital

Well, you're all gonna kill me.

I had my recital today but when the time came to leave the house, no one was around to take me. It seems my host family had forgotten about my big day. I was relying on them to take me, but Yuka luckily gave me a call just before she was leaving the house and so I asked if she could swing by to pick me up. Because she had to do a couple errands, she needed to arrive early. I rushed to get ready and was able to have my makeup on and my dress and shoes in a bag when the horn beeped outside my house.

So, long story short, I forgot everything else besides my dress and shoes, including: A bottle of water for my voice, my cheap-o iPod recording device which I had planned on using to record the entire recital, and my camera. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

I have no pictures of myself in my dress, and no recording. Luckily Yuka brought a video camera, so the whole night was video-recorded. Well, the important thing is that I have the memory, I think, but I do feel bad that I can't share how I looked or sounded with anyone right now.

About the recital itself: Really, I'm just glad it's over. I was very nervous. I'm proud of myself. I sang every song and didn't forget or mess up the words to any of them, and I enjoyed myself in the moment. That said, I'm just glad it's over. It was a lot of stress to memorize and perfect 15 Brazilian songs in a matter of two weeks, and I really dislike being ill-prepared for things. I wouldn't say I was ill-prepared (I definitely worked my butt off to learn these songs), but I was less prepared than I would have liked to be. Very few people came to see me. My host-family forgot, but I left a note for them on the kitchen table and three-quarters of the way through, my host mother, Cynthia, and her daughter Manuela showed up. There may have been 20 people in the audience. What's important, though, is the opportunity I got, and for that I am very, very grateful.

Day-three-more-weeks-until-I-come-home: An unusual masterclass experience

Yesterday I had the longest masterclass I've ever been a part of it. It started at 5:00 and ended at 9:30. Ugh. But, boy was it helpful. I love the couple who taught it. They are very famous singers here in Brazil, and I'm really lucky to have been able to sing for them: Fernando Portari and Rosana Lamosa.

Yuka had asked me to sing A Mulher e o Dragão, a rather difficult song I'm singing in my recital. I was the third to sing, and the most nervous I've ever been to sing in front of someone. I don't know why. I think it was because I saw the couple sing two days before, and they were really amazing. I wanted to impress them, but I kept reminding myself what a silly goal that is for a masterclass. In the back of my head were the practical words of my first voice teacher, Emily Romney: You're only as good as you are at this moment.

I got up to sing. I did everything exactly the way I had rehearsed it, and was really pleased with my performance. But I didn't know what Fernando Portari and Rosana Lamosa were going to say. They had been whispering back and forth the entire time I had been singing. After some applause there was a moment of silence. Fernando Portari sighed from his seat the back of the room.

"Okay, Melody," he began. "Look, this is a very difficult song to sing..."

"...very difficult," interjected Rosana.

"You have high notes; you have low notes. You have to sing forte on the low notes, and the phrases are really long."

I nodded. Where would the "but" come in?

"I don't know if you know this, but Rosana has recorded this song for Gilberto Mendes himself." Gilberto Mendes is the composer of A Mulher e o Dragão, who is still alive."

"I know," I said, "I've heard it."

"Ah... you've heard it. Well," he took another sigh, "Listen, Melody, it's a really hard song, as you know,"

PAUSE

"And you did it really well."

PAUSE

"But..." --There it was -- "Do you have anything else for us this evening?"

"I...uh...well...yes..." I stammered. I was really embarrassed. What did I do wrong? Was it really that bad? Is it at such a difficulty level that I shouldn't even be singing it? I asked him what kind of song he'd prefer to hear.

"Just...anything else." O...kay...

I started to list off other Brazilian songs I had and finally he chose one: A Casinha Pequenina, with which I will be starting my recital (this Friday). Again, the whole time I sang, the couple whispered hurriedly back and forth. I felt like I was in an audition room being adjudicated. When I was done singing, the audience applauded again. And, for the second time, Fernando waited a long time until he said something.

"Good, Melody," He got up from his seat and began to walk to the stage. I could feel my nerves unwind a little. "You really sang the Portuguese well. What a good accent you have! You obviously have an understanding of the cadences in the phrasing, the cadences in the language, and the overall pronunciation of Portuguese. It's not an easy language, is it?"

"No," I said.

"And," He said, as he was almost to the stage, "How long have you been studying Portuguese?"

The audience, most of them student peers, burst into laughter. I nervously laughed as well.

"About a month," I said.

His mouth dropped and he frowned. "A month?!" Here he switched to English: "So you didn't know anything when you came to Brazil?"

"I knew about 20 words or so. I thought I knew more, but...well, I was wrong. But I speak Spanish," I added hastily, before he got too carried away with the idea of me being some sort of genius.

"Oh!" He exclaimed! "You know Spanish! Good, because for a minute I thought the only explanation was that some old Brazilian spirit had inhabitated your body and taught you how to speak perfectly. That happens here in Brazil, you know?" I could here some students translating to others in the hall. There was a delayed laughter. Then he switched back to Portuguese. "Well, look," he sighed with the same energy as he had after I sang my first piece. "Do you have something with you in English? I'd like to get an idea of your voice by you singing in your own language."

At this point the whole room was filled with tension. What was happening? Why did I have to sing so many pieces for him? I've never been to a masterclass, nevermind the fact that I've only sung in one other, where someone had to sing so many pieces before they were critiqued. I started to think, What if I don't really know how to sing Brazilian art song after all? What if I'm not learning anything Yuka is trying to teach me? And the familiar shaking in my knees returned. I had chosen an unknown Stephen Soundheim song for my last piece in my recital, but it wasn't memorized yet. He let me use the music. I sang. When I was done, I got a big applause and a "Nossa!" from someone in the audience. Translation: "My God!"

Fernando Portari got up from his seat again and came over. "Great! Melody, this song was in a more musical theater style, and I could tell you were using a bit more chest voice, a bit more belt. Is that right?"

I nodded.

"Okay. I understand that that is the style you want to use in this piece, but there is a slight tension in the throat and larynx involved with belting, and I believe you're carrying it over when you sing classically. Let's go back to Casinha Pequenina, shall we?"

Finally, the work began. Sure enough, Fernando Portari was right. I've been aware that I carry a good amount of tension in my neck and back when I sing, but I never realized how much tension there was in my larynx. I've been working a lot on my belt and I can surely say that it has come miles from even a year ago. I never feel tension when I am singing in my chest voice anymore, but there is some sort of support, tension, I don't know what to call it, that must be there, because I do the same thing when I sing classically, even though I don't need to. Not only did letting go of the tension help my resonance tons, the line in the song was so much better. Before we finished, Fernando told me that I had a wonderful ability to sing in Portuguese, and, I quote, that I "sing Brazilian art song better than many Brazilians are able to."

So, in the end, my three-song-trial was worth it. It was the last song, the one where I had no other worry except singing out, where Fernando discovered my largest problem, tension, and, more importantly, where the tension originated.

When I talked to the couple after the masterclass, I asked if they thought I should take A Mulher e o Dragão, the first song I sang for the class, out of my recital program.

"No!" said Rosana Lamosa, "It's a really hard song to do right, and you do it..."--here she switched to English--"...just perfect, you know!"

"No, don't take it out," agreed Fernando, "it's a very good piece for your voice," he smiled.

I said thank you again, we hugged and kissed on the cheeks, and then I left for the night. How eye-opening (or maybe it was more larynx opening than anything)! Either way, it made me feel good about myself, about my being here, about Yuka working me so hard, and about my ability in Portuguese but, more importantly, my ability in singing.

The headshots of
Fernando Portari and Rosana Lamosa