Since today is the Brazilian Valentine’s Day, I thought I might reflect on how I wound up with such a great guy/Brazilian.
First, I’d like to say I was quite shocked after our move to Brazil to find out that other Americans had also acquired Brazilian husbands. I’ll be honest, I thought I might the the only one. I thought I had done something really unique. Prior to my Brazilian, I dated your basic All-American guys. Guys that watched football. Guys that played lacrosse and softball. Guys that refused to travel to a foreign country without a guarantee that there’d be a television in the hotel room and a Mac Donald’s around the corner. So when I started dating my Brazilian, I was quite convinced that I was a pioneer.
But wouldn’t you know it, other people had jumped on the bandwagon. Fellow bloggers Rachel, Danielle, Stephanie, Jim and Meredith all have come to this country for or with their Brazilian mates. There is even an official, semi-organized group here in Sao Paulo of American woman with Brazilian husbands (I keep meaning to join…) And I’m sure every story is different. Here is mine.
I met my husband one of the very first days of our business graduate program at Georgetown University in Washington, DC. I remember he sat at my table for breakfast and didn’t say much. Tall, dark and handsome, sure I noticed him, but his cold demeanor put me off. We didn’t have any classes together, so I didn’t see him again for months. I do remember hearing that some of the Latin American guys in the program didn’t like the fact that they were having to work with women as equals on projects. Unfortunately, my now-husband came to mind and I pegged him for one of these machismo offenders.
Turns out, his aloofness came from the fact that he had just arrived to the U.S. the day before and wasn’t terribly comfortable yet with his English.
When I saw him again, it was at the end of the semester at a party. A party I wasn’t even going to go to, but was talked into by a tall girlfriend of mine. This tall girlfriend spotted my Brazilian as a height-appropriate potential mate. I agreed to introduce them, though I did warn her about the machismo thing (poor innocent guy). They got to talking, and I got to working the room. After only a few minutes, they parted ways.
Later in the evening, my Brazilian began to chat it up with me (his English having improved immensely) and I waved over my tall friend. Both engaged in a conversation and I left them to make a love connection. But again, the conversation lasted only a few minutes…
Well, wouldn’t you know it. The Brazilian was interested in me, not the tall friend. It took awhile to dawn on me (actually, it didn’t dawn on me until he started making the moves). Unfortunately, tall girlfriend wasn’t very happy about this.
A year later we were engaged. Another year later married.
Before my Brazilian, I never thought much of the institute of marriage. The married people I knew certainly didn’t make it seem like much fun. It was much more entertaining to date and be free. But when I met my Brazilian, not only did I finally feel the love necessary for such a commitment, something I had never felt before, but I knew that with my Brazilian life would never be dull.
And I was right about that.
Happy Valentine’s my beautiful Brazilian!