Today was another double Brazilian day!
First, I went to a yoga class in my neighborhood. It’s funny, in my past life, going to a new class for yoga or Pilates or cooking… anything really, would always surface some anxieties. Do I look fat in my yoga outfit? Am I going to fall over and hit someone while in tree pose? What if everyone else has more strength, endurance, flexibility… Certainly not dibilitating thoughts, I always still went, but it was there all the same.
But here, I’m such a freak show to the Brazilian as it is, it just doesn’t matter. No anxiety. Sometimes it is very freeing to be a foreigner.
The yoga class went well, and although the instructor did speak some English, he didn’t during the class other than asking if he could adjust me (I’m sure instructors definitely want to get that question across – some people lose it if you touch them!) The practice was pretty standard, although like the Pilates, not quite as intense as I was used to.
Next, I went to go buy myself some Brazilian clothes. As you may recall, my last attempt at this was a fail. Mostly because I was angry about the value equation. But on top of the fact that my clothes still don’t fit me, many have been ripped to shreds by the crappy washing machine that we bought here. So, today I went to Hering, which is like a Banana Republic/Gap kind of place with some lace thrown in, where there was a big sale. Right away, I told the sales person that I am an American and appalled by the price of things in Sao Paulo, so only point out that which is on sale (promoção). (See, similar freedom. In NYC, I would usually browse the full-price items, then slowly and inconspicuously make my way to the sale rack. But today I was wearing a pink baseball cap and a pair of yoga pants that my crappy washing machine had put a hole in, so what did it matter. Freak show.) She stuck with the sale stuff and I picked up some decent items that will get me through the holiday.
But I’m still not sold on Brazilian wear. I’m still dreaming of that Bloomingdale’s quarterly sale. Sigh.