Today my Brazilian advancements have been driven by me getting driven to the supermarket. By a driver. Not my driver, mind you, but the driver of my sister-in-law’s father (my daughter and I are staying here with her and the cousins during the last leg of our holiday). I know that having a driver may not be a common luxury in Brazil, but it’s much more common than in the U.S. And since there is a snow ball’s chance in hell that I’m getting driven by anyone outside of family members or friends in the States, or a taxi driver, it is Brazilian to me.
Oh, yes, and I got driven twice to the supermarket, because the first time I forgot my wallet (loser).