Melody in Brazil

Last Day: Home in less than 24 hours.

2009-07-14T10:08:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-05T05:36:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-02T17:13:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-30T12:15:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-29T09:48:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-26T16:45:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-23T15:15:00.001-07:00

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

Day 35: Those who have been checking everyday can yell at me; those who haven't had a chance to recently--hey! you're all caught up!

2009-06-16T11:49:00.000-07:00

So it's been a week since I've last written. I don't know why; I just haven't felt like it. I think I'm starting to feel really tired from the work I've been doing. I've memorized 15 Brazilian songs and chose 10 to perform in my recital last week--it may not seem like much, but for me it's a lot. Then I'll sing an American song to close the night: a perfect wedding between Brazil and the U.S. Yuka says my pronunciation is perfect when I sing; she says no one would know that I'm not Brazilian by listening to me sing.

I've decided to come home on time, which is July 14, because of how much extra it will cost if I stay and travel. Traveling in Brazil is expensive. My plane ticket to Curitiba and back to Sao Paulo was almost as much as a one-way ticket from Boston to Ribeirao Preto. So, I won't be visiting Rio or going to any music festivals, but I'm not disappointed. I know I've made great connections here and that I can come back another time and will be welcomed warmly.

Saturday I went to the Ribeirao Preto orchestra concert at the opera house here. Boy, is it gorgeous. The concert was beautiful. The first set was by a living Brazilian composer, Jose Gustavo Juliao de Camargo: Concerto para Viola Caipira e Orquestra. The soloist was the guitar teacher at USP, Gustavo Costa. The piece was gorgeous, but different. At times it reminded me of Gershwin, at times Charles Ives. Then, on top of that, there was the Viola Caipira, translation: Country guitar. A tiny guitar, the sound is kind of like a banjo and a large acoustic guitar mixed together. The composition was well done and though complex, easy to understand. It seemed hard to play, but looked like it was enjoyable as well. In the second movement, the viola caipira plays a duet with a viola. The whole piece was fascinating to listen to; I don't think any musician, Brazilian or American, had heard anything like it.

Second was a Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in G Major by Ravel. Well, I love anything I hear by Ravel, and this piece was no exception. The soloist was a pianist named Jean Louis Steuermann, a Brazilian who has internationally toured. I've never heard a piano sound so good live--of course, it might have been a collection of many things: the amazing acoustics, the grandeur of it all...who knows, but Steuermann was definitely amazing! The second movement is almost completely solo piano. I looked up as the piece began and noticed several people in the orchestra had their eyes closed-- a violinist in the back, three or four cellists at a time, and a couple men in the brass section. Halfway through the solo, I looked back over and a couple of the cellists had tears in their eyes! That's something I never expected to see from professional musicians, musicians who don't make mistakes, who are paid to play in one of the most important opera houses in Brazil. Of course, this made the piece even more touching, especially when the cellos join in with the piano.

After the intermission, H. Villa-Lobos was next: Bachianas Brasileiras No.9 for string orchestra. Well, this was typically Villa-Lobos and, of course, conductor Cruz executed it with style. The piece began as a fugue. Expectedly, after the second theme entered, both themes played at the same time. Unexpectedly, a third theme was introduced and all three played at the same time. Like the first work of the night, that of Juliao de Camargo's, the piece was like watching a good action movie: you don't dare lose attention, but neither would you want to, because there's too much happening at once and you never know what could happen next.

Last but not least was Dvorak's Te Deum, a strange, strange piece that I'm still not sure is the right way to end of night of music. The piece was, in my opinion, largely experimental and not exactly pleasing. In fact, to me it was a little scary. The last movement, IV, ends in a typical way, with the chorus and soloists singing "Alleluia!" Dvorak's realization of an Alleluia, though, was the strangest I've ever heard. The ending likened to a three-ring-circus-- "so much happens at once that it's tacky," as a friend of mine said during one of the rehearsals. I think I might agree with him, but the last five times the singers chant, "Alleluia," the audience feels less like they're at a circus and more like they're in Cold War era Russia, with the orchestra in 3/4 and the tympany ringing out on every downbeat: ALLELU-IA!--BOOM!--ALLELU-IA--BOOM!--ALLELU-IA--BOOM!--ALLELU-IA! It's as triumphant as any "Alleluia" declaration can be, but certainly not as pleasing as Bach's or Beethoven's.

The next day I went to Ribeirao Preto Orchestra's commemoration in honor of the 153 years of Ribeirao Preto as a city. They played all 20th century music and ended the night with Ribeirao's own Veronica Ferriani, a singer of popular Brazilian music. It was a beautiful outdoor concert full of the most famous pieces of 20th century music you could think of: A few jazz standards (What a Wonderful World and Moon River), the main theme in Gone with the Wind, Also Sprach Zarathustra --better known as the main theme in Space Odessey-- and some Disney classics, like "It's a Small World After All," which would make any American gag, so I don't feel bad about my initial reaction that night!)

Today I'm going back to the operahouse to see a piano and violin concert. I promise I'll keep you all updated from now on!

On Sao Pedro II stage. Final dress rehearsal.

Performance night with large crowd waiting out front

Sao Pedro II

Day 29: Vacation Plans!

2009-06-10T17:50:00.000-07:00

I am excited to announce that I finally have my Brazil vacation plans sketched out! Here are the adventures I'll be having after I perform my recital on June 26th.

Visiting my boyfriend's family in Curitiba. For those who don't understand, Jeff and his parents live in the States, but he was born in Brazil and lived there in his childhood.

Seeing a Brazilian production (in Portuguese) of The Sound of Music, or, Música do Coração, in Portuguese.

Spending a week on Yuka's husband's farm with Yuka and her husband. The farm is in Matto Grosso and right on the border of Bolivia and Brazil. Part of the farm is in the Amazon, the other half is a clearing. Yuka says we can ride horses every morning. Really, it's meant as a sort of retreat from city life, so that I can start to put together my presentation which I will give back in the U.S.

Going to Rio, to be a true tourist. Hopefully I'll be able to go with my friend, Andreia, who really wants to visit, as well. Yuka thinks I should stay for three or four days, and try to make connections between the music libraries there and University of New Hampshire, which is a brilliant idea.

There are other possibilities on my to-do list (a couple other possible performance opportunities that have come up, Campos do Jordao, which holds one of the biggest music festivals in Brazil, and hopefully Minas Gerais) but I don't want to officially mention those until they are for sure (even thought I technically did just officially mention them).

I'll hopefully be back in the U.S. between July 27th and the 29th.

USP at sunset

Day 28: Lasting Impressions

2009-06-09T12:35:00.000-07:00

We forget what the word "impression" means, because we use it every day. I'm talking about "first impressions," "lasting impressions," etc. People don't stop to think about what an impression exactly is--they just use the word. An impression: you know, like a footprint in mud. And a lasting impression is like one in cement. Brazil is leaving a footprint on me, and I'm bending and changing to accommodate it and still keep what I have. And when I leave, I will always be molded in the way Brazil molded me.

What has been running through my mind most of today is my research. I've especially been thinking about it today because Yuka told me she thought I would make a great researcher someday. She said I have a knack for it. Well, I can't say I'm opposed to the thought. Yuka said she would love it if I came back for graduate school. She said I could matriculate into at USP and maybe work more on what I'm starting right now. USP is one of the best universities in Brazil...that invitation was kind of exciting.

Okay, so these are all possibilities, and nothing more. But I feel like I'm opening so many doors in my future. I actually feel secure with what I might do in the future. And I don't have the same dreadful worry of having to teach floating around the back of my mind (no offense, music ed. majors/teachers!)...it's just not for me.

I've noticed a lot of things musically about Brazil since I've been here. The first is that there isn't much in the way of classical music. Ribeirao Preto's music department is small, and it seems like many people in the music world know each other. Brazilians in Brazil don't make recordings because it's hard to find people who record. Apparently, the technology exists but no one knows how to buy or use it. It's a big problem here. So, not only is there a lack of sheet music, if an American in the U.S. does get her hands on a piece of music, she can only discover how it is supposed to sound through intuition-- which is really hard with some music. It seems that there is even less classical tradition in Brazil than in the United States.

This place is a great place for me to grow. I'm realizing that I do most of my growing in a supportive, quiet environment. UNH has given me so much, but I'm lucky to be in a place where, to put it bluntly, I'm on the same level as my peers. I know that sounds bad, but I think I have trouble learning quickly when I'm in a competitive environment, and UNH has felt stiflingly competetive recently--at least in my opinion. Also, Brazilians don't "make plans" like Americans do. Most of the college students don't know exactly what they want to do, but are waiting to find out. That's right, just waiting until it finds them. In the U.S., we're asked what we want to be from the age of five, and at first it's a fun game, but by the time we're 18 it's a very serious question that we are pressured (through society) into answering. It's nice to be away from that.

And there certainly is a difference between being pressured and being impressed. I'm impressed, in the true sense of the word. The footprint sense. Don't get me wrong. I am still Melody; opinionated Melody. Brazil isn't stepping all over me, I'm just....softening because something is shaping me. The research I take home won't be research from an American point of view; from an American who has simply observed and read Brazilian art song. I'm singing it; I'm singing like a Brazilian sings; and I'm asking questions and understanding. I'm truly impressed by everything that goes on here, and I don't think I'll ever want to melt back to my previous state.

USP Vistor's Center

Day 27: Sem titulo

2009-06-08T14:50:00.000-07:00

Today I went to Yuka's, and then to USP to sing with an accompanist that didn't show up. This is the third time an accompanist hasn't shown up when they were scheduled to. A lot of the students are getting annoyed, including me. I have 5 pieces of music to learn by heart and I've only heard my sad, out-of-time version of the accompaniment. I must say, though, I'm getting much better at playing the piano because of it.
I sat in the hallway and a little doggy came in the building to visit. It was a student's dog. Both of them live on campus. Of course, I had to take pictures of the puppy. While everyone else was shooing her away I was rubbing her belly and chasing her.

I chatted, played with the dog, and worked on some translations and then went home with a couple friends, none of whom have a car. We hitch-hiked to the center of town. Yeah, I was surprised, too. It's very strange, but all of the students hitch-hike on campus, because buses are rare. A student pulled up and offered us a ride to the center. She dropped us off and we proceeded to walk about a half-mile to the bus station (it's a big center), where my friend Stephanie split from Andreia and me. Andreia and I waited for the bus for about 10 minutes. The bus was just as crowded as any city bus, and we stayed on for about 30 minutes. When we got off we were at Ribeirao Shopping mall-- yup, my favorite mall, the one I had such a bad experience at this past Saturday. By the way, as I expected, I had gone to the wrong mall to see my friends sing. I don't know if it was my fault, because I truthfully don't think anyone told me which mall the performance would be at. Anyway, I took a mototaxi home again today, but this time Andreia asked how much it was, and they only charged six Reais. I made it home after an eventful day full of absolutely nothing.

Now, onto more translations...sigh. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm enjoying myself.

Day 25: The disadvantages of being a foreigner

2009-06-06T14:31:00.000-07:00

Two of my friends had told me this week that they had a gig at the shopping mall in Ribeirao Preto. It was Saturday at 5:00. After I had worked a little this morning, Cynthia and Catrina asked if I wanted to come with them to get my nails done. The price was cheap: fifteen reias for a manicure. That's about $7.50 American dollars. As we were driving there Cynthia warned me, "If they ask you if you want exfoliating lotion, say no, because it costs more and they don't tell you." Inside, the salon was hectic and noisy. I stood around dumbly until someone led me to a manicure station. After about 10 minutes a woman came by. After the first question she asked, I had to tell her that I was not from here, and could she speak a bit more slowly. She asked again: did I want square or round shaped nails? "Square," I smiled and she did, too.

It was so noisy and busy in the salon that, 10 minutes later, I didn't even notice she had pulled out exfoliating lotion until she was rubbing it all over my hands. Now, in the U.S., I may have said something, but even then the chances that I would let it slide are likely, unless I'm hard pressed for cash. Being in a foreign country where I can hardly think clearly to begin with because my brain is thinking in half-Portuguese, half-English, I probably wouldn't have been able to stutter anything out anyway. So I kept quiet. At the end, Cynthia told me she would pay for everything, but then she saw that I had used the lotion. I explained that I wasn't warned by the manicurist; that she just put it one without telling me. The receptionist apologized and took the expense off the bill. At that point, I felt silly for not saying something exactly when it had happened.

As we left, I asked Cynthia if she would drop me off at the Shopping Center along the way, because I wanted to go see my two friends sing. I had about 10 minutes until 5:00 once I had arrived. I searched the entire shopping mall--both floors, all wings, and even the parking lot. No musical performance to be seen. I started to get worried. Was I wrong about the time? Was it at some other shopping mall? Yuka had called me today to tell me she wouldn't be going, so I knew it was this evening. Finally, at 5:10, I found a security woman and asked her. She frowned and walki-talkied another security woman, who came over and asked me to repeat myself. I did. The new woman frowned and phoned a third person. When she finished she looked at me and said, "Look, I don't know anything about this, and neither did he. We don't have anything like that going on today that I know of." I thanked her. "But wait," she said, "Your friend who is singing, she has a Spanish accent, too, doesn't she?" Now I frowned. I must be misunderstanding something. "My friend who is singing?" She nodded. "No. She's from here. She's from Minas Gerais." "Hmm," said the woman, "Well, look, I don't know anything about it, okay?"

Okay. So, I left. I missed their performances, which I know my friends wouldn't be mad about, but I had really wanted to go and had been planning on it all week. I walked outside. Now, how was I going to get home? It was 5:30 and Yuka said she would meet me at my house at 7:00 to take me to a festival near her house. Cynthia had told me that the "Leva e Traz," a gratuitous city bus, passed by the house. I saw one waiting to leave and hopped on. I spent a half hour on that bus and it went nowhere near my Condominium. When we arrived back at the shopping mall I asked the woman, "Does this bus go to Condominium Buritis?" "No," she said, "that's the other bus, the green line." I got off. I saw a mototaxi across the street and thought about it, but couldn't bring myself to cross. 10 minutes later another Leva e Traz stopped in front of the mall. I asked the driver, "Excuse me, do you go to Condominium Buritis?" He looked at me, probably translating my accent into a real Brazilian accent. Then he spoke, "No. That's the one right in front of me." "No," I said, "She doesn't pass through there either, I just asked her." He said, "Well, it's the green line that goes through there. And it arrives here at 6:30." There was no way I could wait that long. I wanted to get back and shower before Yuka arrived at my house.

I sighed, held my breath, and crossed the street. "Excuse me," I said to the mototaxist who had just pulled up, "Do you know where Condominium Buritis is?" (All this in my best, most confident Brazilian accent). He thought about it, and nodded, "Yes." "Okay, great, because I don't know how to get there but I need to go there, you see? How much is it?" I gestured to his abhorred bike. "Ten reias," he said. I sighed and said, "Okay, let's go." After he showed me how to put a helmet on, we started driving. I took all my strength not to think about Filipe as I was on that motorcycle, my first motorcycle I'd ever ridden. At one point I almost freaked out, but I calmed myself and, instead of diverting my attention, started to think about what Filipe would think of me doing this. I don't know what he would think, but if he is the same Filipe that lived down here he would have been laughing at my discomfort, but he would have been proud of me for taking the damn mototaxi home. We arrived and I thanked the man. I was proud of me too. I was able to get myself home in a foreign country, even after all the misunderstanding that had happened throughout the whole day. I got into the house and said hi to Cynthia. I told her I had taken a mototaxi home. "How much was it?" She asked. "10 reias," I said. "Oh. That's expensive." Great. I'd been taken advantage of again. What great fun it is to be a foreigner, and to not be able to hide it.

The exfoliating lotion, the missed concert, the security cops, the Leva e Traz, and then the damn mototaxi that I shouldn't have taken in the first place.

Day 21: Life with important yet strange Brazilians, networking, and foreign experiences

2009-06-01T20:20:00.000-07:00

As I worked at Yuka's house today, at around 10, she asked if I would come upstairs and help translate the abstract for her doctorate thesis. She had already translated it into a rough draft in English, so I was finishing up correcting it when an older gentleman walked into the room. Yuka introduced me to Juares, who was here to help with the translated thesis as well. We began working. It was hard work, but I enjoyed translating Yuka's musical ideas into English sentences, which were usually very different than what she had written in Portuguese. Juares made the joke that somewhere in the abstract we should put the word "Melody," because Melody is really the essence of the whole translation. When we finished, Juares said to Yuka (in front of me) that I was very intelligent. It was a little embarrassing. He seemed impressed with my ability to write. Later I found out that he had spent a lot of time in New England and New York, and also in England, which made sense, because he spoke English well and had a large vocabulary. He is a renowned medical figure in Brazil and works at USP in the Department of Medicine, which is the best school for medicine in all of Brazil. He went to grad school in the states at Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research, and today is concentrating his research in psychological neuropathy. Juares is a tall man, probably in his early-to-mid 60s, with a keen sense of humor.

When we finished working, Yuka, her husband, her step-daughter, Juares and I had lunch. Juares noticed I didn't eat meat and when I asked for Yuka to pass the tea, he declared that I was a "natureba," which more or less translates to a flower-child. When Yuka's daughter-in-law started to talk about how she was still single, Juares told her that she had to find her "inner-self"--leaving the word in its orginal English form--before she finds love. Then he explained how he could see I had found my inner-self and that just by speaking with me he knew who I was as a human being. Yuka's step-daughter explained how it really isn't about men choosing her, she is just waiting to choose the kind of man she wants.

After Juares and Yuka's husband had finished a bottle of wine, the topic turned towards me again. Juares said once more that I was intelligent, and would I like to meet his girlfriend (funny, for an old man to have a girlfriend) and have dinner with the two of them sometime. I politely accepted. He said that he had just finished traveling an overnight trip from Bela Horizonte to Ribeirao Preto and he hadn't been able to sleep a wink. Yuka told me that when she called this morning, secretly hoping that he would remember they had a date to work on the thesis, he declared, "What do you want?!" and when she asked how he was to try to break the ice, he said, "I'm horribly bad!" Juares said he was glad that Yuka was able to persuade him to come over, because now that he had met me, he was in a much better mood and felt alive again. Then he said something poetic in Portuguese which I didn't understand, but whatever it was, it made everyone laugh, roll their eyes, stand up from the lunch table, stretch, and uncomfortably amuse themselves in something else. It was something about me being a moon and how my light shines...

I stayed downstairs to warm up my voice and perfect some songs, and Yuka and Juares went back upstairs. About an hour later, as I was just finishing up singing, Yuka came down the stairs and said, "Melody! Will you come up here please?" We turned to walk up the stairs and she said quietly, "Juares has a deal he wants to make with you." I came into the room and sat down. Yuka and Juares were sitting across from me, watching me seriously.

"Melody," he said, "I have been thinking about why you're here in Brazil, and the research you want to go home with, and I think it's very important. Now, I know nothing about music. My field is medicine, but I think more people should know about what you're doing, and more people should know about you. And, also, I'm in love with you." I raised my eyebrows. Yuka laughed out loud and hit him on the knee. "Be careful of this one, eh?" She said jokingly. He became stern and said, "No, no! Love is a general word in my case. I'm in love with many things in life. But," He said in a business-like manner, "I am in love with you."

I frowned...what was happening here? Was I being proposed to? "My daughter is part of a cultural program in Minas Gerais which invites speakers to give presentations about anything that culturally deals with Brazil. It is informal-- Yuka has sung there before, and she can tell you. But, I beleive it is a great opportunity for you and it will help to get your word out. So-- and this isn't a promise-- I will ask my daughter if she can try to secure a spot for you. Would you be able to travel there and give the presentation if she can get it for you?"

I had a dumb smile on my face. A presentation in Minas Gerais on my research? My undergraduate research? Wow, this guy thinks I'm a lot smarter than I am, but either way, it's an amazing opportunity to network! I looked at Yuka, and she nodded encouragingly. "It's really a great experience. You could get your lecture-recital ready here and present it, and then you would only have to perfect it when you were back in the states." Juares said I should sing and do the entire lecture in Portuguese. I laughed out loud at the thought of that. "Maybe you think your Portuguese is broken," he said sternly, cutting of my sarcastic mirth, "But it's not that broken." Yuka said, "Sure. And you have a whole month to plan." I must have looked pretty skeptical, because then she suggested, "And, if you like, you and I can split the songs, and we can both sing them." I smiled. Well, this sounded pretty dynamic. Yuka is an amazing singer, and as an undergraduate I would be honored if she would perform in a lecture/recital that I'm conducting, especially because she is the perfect example of how Brazilian art song should be sung!

I gladly accepted and thanked Juares heartfully. He looked at me sternly again and said, "But, I haven't talked to my daughter, so this might not happen at all." I told him I understood, but that I thanked him for thinking of me either way. They both shooed me back downstairs and I sat at the piano, my music splayed out in front of me, frowning, wondering what just happened, what I had gotten myself into, if this is all a dream....

Day 20: Porto Acai

2009-05-31T16:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening I went to Porto Acai with friends. Porto Acai is a restaurant in the center of town which is known for its Acai fruit bowls. Acai is a Brazilian fruit, blackish/purple in color, and usually served mashed and cold. So, when my friends found out I had only had Acai in the United States, they insisted that we eat at Porto Acai. I got an Acai bowl with strawberries, granola, and sweetened condensed milk on the side. The appearance was beautiful, but the taste was very foreign. Acai is sweet initially but has a somewhat bitter aftertaste. To eat it with only a bit of fruit and a very small side of sweetened condensed milk was difficult at first, I must admit. But it was very filling-- I couldn't finish the small bowl I had ordered. Maybe it's like beer, a taste you have to grow to enjoy-- and I have grown to enjoy beer since I've been here, by the way. That'll make Emily and Jeff happy, won't it, guys?

Acai fruit bowl

Day 18: Southern Hospitality vs. Brazilian Hospitality

2009-05-29T20:24:00.000-07:00

I've never been to the South, but I truly believe Brazilian hospitality has got to be better than Southern. Everyone here has been more than nice-- they've been accepting, inquisitive, and considerate, too. Many of my family and friends have been asking how I deal with being a vegetarian here. Truthfully, I believe it's easier to be vegetarian here than it is in the States. This is for two reasons:

One, there are so many fresh fruits and vegetables, and unlike Americans, Brazilians love fruits and veggies just as much as they love meat. Two, in the States, when a vegetarian decides to go out with friends, the friends will say something like, "Let's go to Kelly's Roast Beef." Then, you, the vegetarian, will say, "Oh, but there's not very much of a choice for me there." Then a friend will say, "Oh, no, no, don't worry. They have salad and french fries and stuff." Case solved; crisis averted. Yes, as a vegetarian, I strive to live an unhealthy diet which solely consists of unhealthy sides found at fast food restaurants. And salad. Anyway, here every person I've met has been extremely careful to make sure that wherever we eat, I have a wide choice of entrees. I'm talking old, young, friends, aquaintances, city folk, country folk. My host family always makes sure dinner is vegetarian and that lunch is primarily vegetarian. Yuka buys tofu and soy protein for me, and today we had an amazing soybean salad. Also, there are a wide variety of "vegetarians" here, I guess. I get the question, "But you eat fish, right?" as much as I get the question, "So you don't eat milk, cheese or eggs either, right?"

The other thing is how genuine everyone is. Brazilians can be a little fake when etiquette calls for politeness, (kind of the way Americans are, too), but when they feel bad about something, they are sure to apologize frankly, and often want to make it up to you in some way. Tuesday, Yuka was trying to find a group of kids with whom I could eat. Most of the groups were heading home and weren't going to eat on campus, so I ended up skipping lunch. Today, a boy who I hadn't yet met came up to me and said,

"Hey, we're so sorry about the other day when you were looking for people to eat with! Next time you can't find someone to eat with, just ask a bunch of us, and we'll go to the food court with you and eat on campus before we go home. I felt so bad when Alana told me that you didn't have lunch that day after the group of us left! Please, just tell us next time! It's terrible that you had to go hungry all day."

Other things of interest: I'll be doing a recital (about 30 minutes long) here in Ribeirao at the end June. I'm very excited. Yuka said we should go out and look for a concert dress (which I budgeted in my grant proposal). Also, Rafael, a student composer here, is writing a piece for my voice. Instead of asking, he just informed me nonchalantly after class last Friday. Wednesday, he came to my lesson to listen to hear my range, ability, and timbre. Yuka tells me he's a very good composer, and has composed parts of the opera that USP is putting up this semester.

So as you can see, lots has been happening that I haven't had a chance to talk about. Mainly, that's because I believe stories about over-sized cockroaches and hardly-countable amounts of mosquito bites are much more interesting, and also something I find easier to write about. And, speaking of which, I've got a little "friend" living in my room with me now (well, I've probably got more than one in here and just don't know it). He's a lizard-- a scurrying, see-through, slimy-like lizard. Yeah, it's gross. I'll try to get a picture of him later.

Day 15: The cockroach and the soprano

2009-05-27T16:54:00.000-07:00

Last night around ten o'clock I could hear Manuela go into her room as she was talking on the phone. Mid-sentence she screamed. "Aiii barataaa!! Mamae!" Translation: Aaah cockroaaach! Mommy!" I rolled my eyes and put my slippers on. Sigh. No matter what country it is, girls are always scared of bugs. I grabbed one of my sneakers and went next door. I entered Manuela's room just in time to see the biggest cockroach I've ever seen (and I mean ever, even when I worked with Madagascar cockroaches at the Boston MOS) fly from the window of Manuela's room onto her bed, and then scurry away almost faster than my eyes could move. I dropped the shoe and let out a bigger scream than Manuela had, turned around, ran back into my room, and shut the door.

The Cockroach (Dead). Longer than the length of my thumb, not including its antennae.

When I came to my senses I went back out, and Manuela was still yelling for Cynthia. Cynthia took her time coming up the stairs and into Manuela's room. The three of us looked inside. Nothing. Manuela was laughing at my state of horror. She told me that once when she was sleeping, she felt something on her shoulder and it was a cockroach on her body. Great, a perfect way to put me at ease. We slowly crept into Manuela's room like undercover cops looking for a criminal-- peeking under the bed, snapping our heads from one direction to another. We made it as far as Manuela's bathroom, never seeing the cockroach. We turned around and looked out into Manuela's room and there! There it was, in the walk-through-closet between the bathroom and the bedroom-- it ran across the wall the length of two feet in two seconds. "Aiii--yeww eww!" Manuela screamed (okay, and me too), and shut the bathroom door. And locked it. We stood in silence. Manuela looked at me. Cynthia looked at me. "What now?" I said? Cynthia took her slipper off and handed it to me.

"Ehhh" I said, panickedly. I kept telling myself that I could do this, that it was just like any other animal. A June bug, or a carpenter ant, I kept saying. It just happens to carry an unfortunate connotation in its name. "Barata," "Cockroach." In whatever language, it's a disgusting and chill-inspiring word. I thought, "Poor thing, it's just got an unfortunate reputation. Just go out there, kill it, and put it out of its misery." So, I opened the bathroom door and turned on the light. Immediately it moved, sprinting from the wall to the ground, around the corner, and back into Manuela's room. For a minute it was in the corner, resting, then it started to walk back towards the closet room.

I traded my choice of weapon from Cynthia's slipper to one of Manuela's more heavy duty sandals. Cynthia, one slipper on, one off, had crept out from the bathroom, holding the slipper I had dropped, and we both stood there, me blocking the cockroach on one side of the doorframe, Cynthia waiting for it on the other. It turned into the opening of the door and BAM! Cynthia smacked it dead. Manuela and I screamed again, and then I let out a war cry (well, maybe it sounded more like a high-pitched, "Euugh!!!") and hit it again with Manuela's sandal. I felt like I was in the scene from Boys Next Door when Lucien, Arnold, Norman, and then Barry have to kill the "mouse" they find in the house in the middle of the night. How exhilerating-- but how gross. Manuela slept with her mom and I was condemned to my bedroom next door. This time, though I put my slippers up on my desk and hung my pants over my chair.

Day 14

2009-05-26T14:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to Yuka's house at eight in the morning and stayed overnight. After taking breakfast at 8, I worked from nine until five, only breaking for lunch. I learned mostly all of the music I have been translating. At five, Yuka ordered me to stop working. This morning I woke up at eight and worked until midday, when Yuka drove me to USP. I sang "Dentro da Noite" in the weekly student recital after much prodding from my vocalist peers. I got a polite applause at the end of the song, but a couple people later approached me and gave me congratulations. Then I and another voice student, Stephanie, took turns going over our music with one of the accompanists, Carlos, from 2:30 until four.

Alana drove me home at four. I had some salad and soup when I got back, as I hadn't yet had lunch. Now it's 6:15 and I'm ready for bed. What an exhausting couple of days. The good news is, I'm speaking Portuguese with more ease, now, and when people talk, I no longer have that feeling of clinging onto a word as the others fly past too quickly for me to catch. If anyone reading this has ever learned another language, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

To give everyone an idea of what I'm doing here: In my voice lesson curriculum at the University of New Hampshire, I've got to sing six or seven songs a semester, and usually have them all memorized. That's six songs in four months. Here, I've learned, translated, and sung with an accompanist twenty so far, and Yuka wants me to memorize every song I learn. So, I'm tired. But it's a good way to take in the culture and, even more so, the language. Also, I'm not living in a room the size of a shoebox and I'm not eating unseasoned food produced for the masses, like I would be at UNH.

A tree in Brazil-- yes, I didn't know they had them here, either!

Update on the farm experience

2009-05-25T03:51:00.001-07:00

I woke up at 5 a.m. today quite itchy. I assumed I had gotten some mosquito bites yesterday, so after breakfast I went into the bathroom to look.

28 mosquito bites-- at least that I can see.

18 are on my back and shoulders. One is on my breast-- ow. The other 9 are all around my ankles on both feet.

Just had to share that with someone.

Day 12

2009-05-24T16:54:00.000-07:00

Today I went to my host family's farm. Wow, was it beautiful, and way out in the countryside, as well. On the way we passed one of the biggest producers of sugarcane in the world--but of course I can't remember the name. And, I saw orange trees for the first time in my life. Very cool

I met a lot of family, and many of them had spent a good amount of time in the United States and spoke English very well, but for the most part we all spoke in Portuguese. We spent most of the day there and by the time we got home I felt completely spent from meeting new people and straining to understand all the Portuguese flying around.

The little house was very cute, and so was the area around it. The kids in their teens took me to see a young bull that they were raising on the farm. I spent a good thirty minutes there watching the poor bull put up with each boy climbing on its back and making it buck by pulling a rope that was fashioned around its middle. But when the bull had had enough, it certainly knew how to tell the boys. Plus, I'm positive the boys were in much more pain than the bull by the end of the half hour. Almost all of them had been thrown about 5 feet from where the bull kicked them off, and all of them landed painfully.

Tomorrow is Catarina's birthday. That is the 14-year-old (soon to be 15) cousin that lives with the family as well. Cynthia asked if I would make pancakes for breakfast in honor of the day. There really is no such thing as American style pancakes in Brazil, but I made them my first week here and everyone loved them. So, I'm going to make pancakes tomorrow before everyone goes off to school. I'll make buckwheat pancakes topped with strawberries, bananas, and apples, with cinnamon and confectioners' sugar sprinkled over them. Then, of course, each person can smother their pancakes in authentic New Hampshire maple syrup to their liking!

The pretty little farm house.

The young bull running and the young boy groaning.

Day 11? I'm losing count...

2009-05-23T17:27:00.000-07:00

So, I went to this party which was at the Rodeo. Actually, there was no rodeo show, it was just a party at what Yuka called "the rodeo." In this city Barretos, there is a huge rodeo show every year. The tourist population is ten times more the population of the city during this time. Even more, some people own "ranches" within the rodeo area. These ranches aren't American-like. They are literally huge party rooms where those who own one can give a huge party. So, we were going to the party of a four-year-old, or Yuka's step-daughter's step-daughter. It was very fun and very ornate. I didn't remember to take pictures-- I was too overwhelmed. There must have been over 70 people at this little girl's birthday party. There was a party table with mounds of bon-bons and a round cake the size of a 24 inch television screen and half a foot high. I've never seen anything like it.

This morning I spent the day at Yuka's translating songs and providing the pronunciation for each song as well. So far, I've translated 20 songs. This is good. I'm here for nine weeks and am translating 10 songs a week. If I can keep this up I'll have at least 90 done, and then I'll have more time when I get home for the rest of my vacation. Still, that's less than a quarter of all that exist, but at least I'm getting the most famous ones done now.

Here is a gorgeous song, only about 45 seconds long when performed, but the profound poetry makes up for the length. The song is written by M. Camargo Guarnieri and the poetry by Suzanna de Campos.

Original Portuguese:

Adoração
Quem me dera sentir, de novo, teu ohlar,
E ter a minha mão presa na tua mão!
Na doçura sem fim de ter ver,
De te amar,
Eu ficaria assim como em frente a um altar.
Na minha adoração.

Translation

Adoration
If I could, again, feel your gaze,
And have my hand holding your hand!
In the endless sweetness of seeing you,
Of loving you,
I would stay so,
As if in front of an altar,
In my adoration of you.

Campos, the woman who wrote the poem, was blind.

Days 9 and 10

2009-05-22T16:14:00.000-07:00

These past days have been very busy and not so action packed. I've started to really concentrate on learning and translating songs. So, the majority of my time is spent either in front of a piano with a metronome or jotting notes while I furiously look up translations in my Larousse dictionary. Today I studied the music and texts for three and a half hours and then sang for about three and a half. So, I'm really tired.

Tomorrow is going to be fun. I'm going to a Brazilian rodeo with Yuka. I have absolutely no idea what to expect seeing as I've never even been to an American rodeo. So, I will write about it tomorrow night when I get home. Then, Sunday, I will be going to my host family's farm which is a while away (but no more than two hours, I don't think) to have a little barbecue and spend the day there. They told me that, if the day is nice, we may be able to horseback ride a little too. Look forward to those updates!

The Lake of USP

Day 8

2009-05-20T18:45:00.001-07:00

Sao Paulo was great-- except for one thing: I forgot that Yuka's concert was the same night. So, I missed the concert. I feel bad, but when I told Yuka she just laughed incredulously. I also misunderstood my friend when she told me what we'd be doing in the city. We were going to Sao Paulo to watch a voice lesson given by the famous pianist/vocal coach, Ricardo Ballestero. I think maybe she said "concerto" in there somewhere, but it most likely had to do with Yuka's concert, not a concert we would see in Sao Paulo. Either way, I watched my friend get a private voice lesson from Senhor Ballestero. He was very technically based, and for her it was an eye opener. All in all, it was a good day. We didn't get to look around much, but my friends promised me we would come back and spend the weekend some time. They also told me they wanted to take me to Rio-- but, in a truly Brazilian manner, none of these plans are in stone yet.

Today, Edmar Ferreti, a famous singer of Brazilian art song, came to give a masterclass at USP, which Yuka had asked me to sing for weeks ago. I sang two songs and got some very constructive feedback. Well, as constructive as a Brazilian can be. I will admit, there were probably some potentially destructive things Edmar said, but I wouldn't have been able to hear her through her thick Southern accent, anyway. Mainly: I'm still rolling my "r"s too much, and I need to use much more phrasing and legato, which other students here seem to do easily... She also said she thought I was a quick learner and then asked how long I'd been here. I laughed nervously and one student answered for me. One week. Well, she was surprised and said, "Parabens," in this case meaning, "Good for you." Edmar said I had good control of my voice and at the same time I sang with ease.

I finally finished my finals for UNH that I was still working on. Now that that's out of the way, I feel like I can really start my research. Edmar explained today the difficulties Brazilians have with defining diction within a Brazilian song. In Brazil each region has its own accent, but because Brazil is so large, that means there are some 10 different accents within the country. The authorities on Brazilian art song are fighting, and have been for a long time. One school of thought is that the text should be sung something close to the pronunciation in Portugal. The comparison that one might make is how German is sung in Hoch Deutsch (or High German), or how English art song is normally sung with an English accent. Edmar's view, or the second school of thought, is the one Yuka teaches as well. This is to use the generally correct Brazilian pronunciation: more or less in the way actors speak on television, only not so much a Rio accent as a precise, clear, and understandable one. I think, nationalistically speaking, I agree with the latter view.

Tomorrow is already Thursday. This week, like last, has gone by so fast! By this weekend, I'll only have 7 weeks left. I'm starting to realize how quickly time will fly now that I'm here. Already I feel the pressure to see the rest of the country, visit Jeff's family, and buy lots and lots of clothes and shoes.

A side street in Sao Paulo. We were in a very beautiful area-- I just wish I knew which!

Not many people share my sense of humor, but it doesn't stop me from trying to share it. This was an ad for the bus company we rode with on the way back. The sign was about a yard by 1.5 feet. It reads: "Look at the present you have just won!...Cometa" Yay. I won an uncomfortable, four hour trip to Ribeirao Preto, which I had to pay 50 Reias for! Well...I thought it was hilarious.

Day 6

2009-05-18T18:12:00.001-07:00

Today was another long day at USP, but eventful and fun. I had a coaching with two different pianists: Carlos and Manua. Both were very good coachings. Manua is wonderful. She always knows what I should do to get the sound I want. I value her suggestions as much as I do my voice teacher's. I went to a copy store and made copies of about 100 songs today, and had them spiral-bound. And I played through a couple songs I hadn't heard yet. I got to USP at 12:15, and didn't leave until 9:30. This is a normal day for the voice students at USP. Ugh!

Tomorrow, some music students and I are going to Sao Paulo (a four hour drive) to see a famous pianist, Ricardo Ballestero. We are leaving at 7 a.m. won't be back until very late-- so I'm am going to sleep over at Andreia's apartment, a friend who is also a voice student here. Andreia doesn't have internet in her apartment, so I won't be able to blog tomorrow. But, I of course will keep you all updated on how awesome the capital of Sao Paulo and the biggest city of Brazil was. By the way, it's the fifth biggest city in the world, with over 10,000,000 people living in it.

Speaking of Ricardo Ballestero, here's a lovely video of mezzo soprano Luciana Bueno singing Seguidille from Carmen, accompanied by Ballestero himself (but boy, is Luciano Beuno a mezzo, or what?!).

Weekend Update (Not as funny as Tina Fey's)

2009-05-17T17:55:00.001-07:00

The weekend was great. Friday, I heard Yuka sing for the first time, and she's absolutely wonderful. It was very inspiring, especially, to hear her sing both the Brazilian art songs she's chosen for her program and also the de Falla Siete Canciones. Wonderful, wonderful stuff. So I know I'm in the right place with the right people.

Friday night I went out with Manuela to a little Brazilian bar with some of her friends. I tried Brazilian beer, even though I don't like beer. I must admit, it was pretty good. And, I knew I had to try it because if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to brag about drinking Brazilian beer to my boyfriend, Jeff. I had a traditional caipirinha as well. It was a very fun experience, and I got to meet a lot of new people.

Saturday, Yuka called and asked if I would like to come with her to USP for the day, as she had a second dress rehearsal and she thought I could study and practice some of my music while she was there. So, I went, studied (I now have two huge anthologies, each full of over 50 Brazilian songs), sang a bit, listened to Yuka sing again, and then went home. Jeff once told me, "Brazilians aren't nice like Americans are; they're very critical." This is becoming more and more apparent. It's strange, though, because they are critical in a supportive manner. For instance, Yuka wanted feedback from the students during her dress rehearsal, and not one student had anything positive to say. Everything was either a suggestion on something she could do better or an outright criticism. But I was surprised to see that Yuka took everything to heart and nothing offensively. If no one noticed anything negative about the piece, there would be a brief moment where, after Yuka asked, "What about the third song?" everyone would shake their heads with nothing to say, but then after about five seconds, someone had quickly thought of something small to criticize. I came to realize it would have been rude not to say anything, because that would have made it seem like no one supported Yuka's wish to improve.

As Yuka drove me home, she asked if I would like to have lunch with her tomorrow. I accepted, and at 12:45 she and her husband picked me up for lunch. We stopped first to pick up Yuka's mother-in-law, who may be the funniest woman I've ever met. She's an author and gave me one of her books to read, which she signed "To Melody, with all my heart, Lucilia." The book is a true story about her youth in Japan (although she is native to Brazil), the love she found, and the people she met.

Yuka later explained to me the eccentricity of the woman (yes, the "To Melody, with all my heart" was not meant completely seriously, as we had met literally less than five minutes ago). Lucilia says that when she dies and is reborn in another body, she wants to be reborn as Maria Callas. A couple years ago, Yuka gave a concert and, when it was over, Lucilia stood up in the middle of the bows and applause, turned around, and yelled, "That woman is my daughter-in-law! She's my daughter-in-law!"

We ate at Mirai, an amazing Japanese/Korean restaurant in the center of the city, which Manuela later told me is the most famous Japanese restaurant in Ribeirao Preto. What fabulous food! As lunch began, she asked me what the major differences were between the U.S. and Brazil. I mentioned a couple things (the warmth of the people in Brazil, the importance of family), and stopped when the conversation moved towards another topic. A couple minutes later she tapped my arm and said in English, "More," with a mischievous half-smile on her face. I mentioned a few other things that I could think of. When I finished, the 85 year old woman took a sip of her vodka caipirinha, looked up, and said, "Yes, yes, but tell me even more." So, because I knew the woman would think it was funny-- and because I couldn't think of anything else to say-- I told her about the bidet in my bedroom. She answered dryly, "Yes, it's really terribly these aren't popular in the U.S. They're very good for hemeroids, you know?"

So, I got to spend the afternoon with Yuka, her husband, her crazy mother-in-law, and Yuka's cousin, who is Japanese like Yuka and teachers at USP as well, but as a professor of chemistry. After a delicious and wonderful lunch, Yuka and her husband drove Lucilia and me home. We dropped Lucilia off first. Before she got out of the back seat, she turned to me so we could say the great-meeting-you's and it-was-a-pleasure's. In the middled of my "Yes, wonderful to meet you," she interrupted, looked me in the eye, took my hand and, in a very businesslike way, said, "I like you" in English. I bid her goodbye as we all laughed histerically through tears.

Tonight, my family home and I watched baby videos of the children, and laughed until I thought blood vessels might break. All in all, a very good, relaxing weekend. Now, if I can just get these two final papers done for Tuesday, everything will be wonderful....

Restaurante Mirai

Day 3, May 14: A (long) Post about the music world in Brazil

2009-05-14T17:39:00.000-07:00

Today I had my first studio class. Very exciting but also a little embarrassing. I will freely admit that singing Brazilian art song is much harder than I thought it was. Yuka gets on my case about everything. Pronouncing things is the hardest. Everything that is pronounced in Portuguese is exaggerated, but not in the way I thought it would be. The "r"s in Portuguese are not at all rolled, and hardly even flipped. They are not hard "r"s like in English, either. They are just barely indicated by lightly touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth.

The smallest thing I do incorrectly sounds like it's in another language to Brazilian ears. "No, no, no! You are not singing Italian, why do you roll your "r"s?" Yuka asks. Here's another thing: Unlike any other language I've ever sung in, long, open "a" vowels are not at all preferred. In fact, they're downright wrong.

So: "r" indicated, "a" vowels wide and bright, and, last but nowhere near least, nasal vowels, nasal vowels, nasal vowels. They hide everywhere and have nothing to do with french nasal vowels or any other nasality you've ever heard. And they have got to be perfect, or else it's completely inauthentic.

Lots of the students have been very welcoming, but I did expect to run into adversity because of my being here. I did a lot of research on Brazilian music before I arrived, and found out that Brazilians don't advertise their music because they see it as something only a Brazilian should be entitled to sing. Why? Because no one else would ever do their music justice. Actually, "justice" is too weak a word.

During the studio class today, everyone who came got a chance to sing. So I sang three songs within the two-hour class. After my first, Yuka asked the students what they thought. One said, "She sings Brazilian music better than any Brazilian here." People laughed, and Yuka continued to correct my diction, which has been the biggest problem so far. All seemed fine, but after my third song I sat down and another girl, a beginner student, got up to sing. She had a lot of trouble with the piece she sang and Yuka was visibly upset because not even the notes and rhythms were correct. A student raised her hand: "I think it's better that she sing like this than try to sound like an opera singer and mix a Brazilian sound with a foreign sound. If you can't sing Brazilian music without mixing Italian vowels with Portuguese ones, better not to sing it at all. Even though she doesn't know the music perfectly, I thihk she still sounds very good."

Here I am learning that you either sing it beautifully or "It's better not to sing it at all." So, I'm up against a lot. But, I like the pressure, and I've always found myself good with languages and emotion, and so I'm ready for the challenge. Still, the comment was surprising.

University of Sao Paulo, Ribeirao Preto Campus: A couple of the main office buildings on campus.

Wednesday, May 13: Day 2

2009-05-13T19:50:00.000-07:00

I won't lie: I'm yet again exhausted as I write this. So, although I have so much to talk about, I figured I would make a quick list of things that make me feel good about being in Brazil and things in Brazil that make me uncomfortable.

THINGS THAT MAKE ME FEEL GOOD:
The inquisitiveness of each person I meet; and their genuine excitement that I am experiencing the country of Brazil.
Delicious food.
The weather. It ranges from 80 to 60 degrees. I'm told it will get a bit colder, but only for a week or two, and then it warms up again.
My wonderful host family: they feed me, drive me places, talk to me, and their maid even empties my trash for me (to my pleasant surprise when I arrived home late today).
Living in a city and not in the Boonies (no offense UNH ;D )
Music students, music teachers, and the Ribeirao Preto Chorus, which I joined today. We are singing Dvorjak's Te Deum. Hee!
THINGS THAT MAKE ME FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE:
Bidets. Why are there so many knobs?!
Soap dispensers, toilet flushers, faucets, and other things that differ greatly from what I've seen in the U.S.
Speed limits, street signs and solid yellow lines being merely a suggestion.
Um...Portuguese.
Some, only some, of the informalities here. During my voice lesson, three people sat in to listen to me. While I observed a voice lesson of a first-year student who is learning "Un Moto di Gioia", Yuka, my voice teacher, asked me to sing it (I told her earlier that I was familiar with the aria).

I will write more tomorrow. As of now, it is already thirty minutes past my bedtime. Yawn.

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^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^
Ribeirao Preto is too cool for hot water. Why have hot water come out of a faucet when it's always hot outside? Besides, I've learned that sinks are pretty much explicitly for washing your hands before a meal and brushing your teeth after one. If you need to wash anything else, just shower. Duh.

First day here

2009-05-12T14:30:00.000-07:00

So, for all those who anxiously await my update, it's my first day in Brazil, Ribeirao Preto, Sao Paulo. My flight was...well...long. I started last night at 7:20 p.m. and didn't make it to my destination until 11:00 this morning-- that's 12:00, Brazil time. It wouldn't seem long, but I had no idea it was so hard to sleep on an overnight flight. Plus, they keep it really cold up at 35,000 miles.

Anyway, I made it to Sao Paulo, Sao Paulo (that's right, like New York, New York) by 8:50 (Brazil's time) in the morning. I got horribly lost and ended up paying a porter at the airport 20 American bucks because I hadn't traded in my $20s from the U.S (don't wanna talk about it). I finally found out where I was supposed to go. I waited at my gate until 11:00 and then had to take a shuttle bus to the middle of the lot and then climb up stairs (only five of them) in order to board the small plane which would take us to Ribeirao Preto. By the time all the passengers had boarded, it was 11:45. By the way, my plane was scheduled to leave Sao Paulo at 11:00 and arrive at Ribeirao Preto at 12:00. Hm. The plane was tiny. I had just come off the biggest plane I'd ever flown in--I don't know the make, but it was pretty gigantic), and now I was boarding the smallest plane I'd ever been on, and the smallest plane I'd ever want to be on!

So, that was my first encounter with the laid-back attitude of Brazil. They say that in Brazil, everything has a way of working itself out. Well, we landed at 12:15. Yuka (my mentor) and my host mother, Cynthia, were waiting for me. Yuka and I set a lunch date for tomorrow after which we will have a voice lesson. Then Cynthia drove us towards home. She picked up her 18-year-old daughter, Manuela, who is an intelligent, sweet inquisitive person, from high school along the way and we headed home where I met Enrique, her son, and their cousin, Catarina.

Well, the house is beautiful, and that's all I have to say about that. I am a very lucky person for being able to successfully get to Brazil and I am now even more lucky for living in a lovely family home with such warm people. I'm exhausted. Time for a nap and a shower.