Confusion Will Be My Epitaph

I'd had my fill of overstimulation. I couldn't keep up with everyday existence and wasn't certain I wanted to. I was having dreams where I'd forgotten how to operate my cell phone.

I realized that only when I went on vacation to tropical climes did I slow down enough for the world to make sense.

Finally, a revelation – I'd find clarity on an airport escalator to the tranquil world of the tropics. The antidote to my metaphysical turmoil would be a postcard-laden paradise. I saw myself strolling along cobblestone streets on a sun-dappled afternoon wearing a Panama hat.

I packed up my life and moved to Brazil. What could go wrong?

Today, the gorgeous beaches and friendly folks welcome me. Now, at last, I have time to smell the roses.

Unfortunately, although I've abandoned my former life, I can't alter my pedantic instincts. I have slowed down enough to shed my New York stress like the down coat I left behind, but I still need to organize, categorize, and analyze my new surroundings.

I'm suffering from what King Crimson lamented. I fear, “Confusion will be my epitaph.”

No one likes being confused, least of all we underachievers who love organizing as much as the next OCD guy, and even more than the Monty Python hero who was busy, “Putting things on top of other things for over 30 years.”

I'm asking for your help, kind reader. Please tell me I'm not being overly zealous when I declare I live in one confusing place. Let me start with a simple puzzle – the seasons. The 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio de Janeiro were held during Brazil's winter. Had the Olympics taken place during the Brazilian summer, Brazil would have won every medal while the rest of the athletes were hospitalized for heat exhaustion. Summer in Rio starts just a few days before Christmas with temperatures hovering around 100 degrees with 90 percent humidity. In Curitiba in the summer, there are hailstorms when it's 80 degrees. Go figure.

Moving on to more complex bewilderment – politics. If you think the US scene is confounding, Obama the opening act for Trump, you're going to be mystified in Brazil. There are 33 registered political parties, and 30 of them have federal congressmen in Brasília, the country's capital. The current president, Bolsonaro, who has been in office one year, is a right-wing, populist admirer of Trump. Meanwhile, the previous leftist president, Lula, was sentenced to 17 years in prison for corruption, but he's now free on a technicality after serving 18 months in a specially designed luxury cell.

Although Lula was in prison during the last election, all polls reported he would have won, even from prison, but the courts wouldn't permit his name on the ballot. The law cited that keeps convicted criminals off the ballot was only passed recently, championed by Lula himself during his two terms as a measure to fight political corruption.

Can it be any surprise that the most popular English-language website has as its tagline, “Trying to understand Brazil since 1989.”

Pushing ahead to the more mundane. As an expat, I should have a grip on basics like buying food, but I still don't understand how milk in boxes isn't refrigerated until after it's opened. Also, I can't fathom the ATMs. They use a triple tier password system and can scan barcodes off my utility bills. ATMs also transfer cash in a flash to a friend's account. With so many functions, the banks' ATM areas have employees to assist customers, assuming you speak Portuguese.

During the Rio Olympics you probably caught glimpses of the slums, known as favelas. There are over 1000 slums in Rio, with nearly a third of the city's six million residents residing in one of them. Most of the people don't have deeds to their property; they're squatters except their longevity of occupancy guarantees them property rights. Some of the favelas sit atop Rio's famous hills, giving the poor locals the finest views in the city.

Here's where it gets confusing: Although poverty is endemic in Brazil, a typical middle-class family owns more than one home. Some own second apartments as rental properties or free domiciles for their married children. They may have a beach bungalow for weekend jaunts or a small piece of land in the countryside. My wife's manicurist has a small apartment near the beach.

For a country with a distinct real estate-savvy, the education system is a mess. Children go to school only half a day. No Brazilian has ever won a Nobel Prize. Brazilians are so embarrassed of their education policy that IQ tests don't exist.

Yet, despite the lack of formal education, their level of etiquette is unparalleled. One day I approached a security guard in the mall and asked where the bathroom was. He replied, “Olá. Tudo bem?” (Hello. How are you?), an odd response to my question, I thought, until I realized he was instructing me in conversational etiquette. Where is the bathroom? might work with a security guard in the US, but not here. First, you say hello.

Brazilians think I'm rude, but it can't be helped when Where's the bathroom? is the only Portuguese phrase I pronounce correctly. Still, when I approach a taxi stand in Vienna, I will ask the lead driver, “Are you free?” I don't need to greet him politely first, “Good afternoon. How are you?”

My favorite exemplars of oratorical etiquette are the TV newscasters:

“We are going now to the flooding disaster in Petrópolis. Fernanda, tell us what's happening there.”

“Good morning, Luiz. Good morning to everyone. It seems we have about 10 confirmed dead in last night's flood.”

Before reporting the disaster, she needs to say hello to everyone

As if a salutation to security guards and taxi drivers wasn't difficult enough to remember, eye contact with strangers is also required. If the person isn't a stranger, women kiss to say hello and men shake hands with both hands. Saying goodbye is even more complicated. Two men end a conversation by saying abraço (hug) without actually hugging. A work email ends with beijos (kisses) from a woman or abraços from a man. For a supermarket chat, people stay within arm's length for emphatic touching. Waiting on line, you're free to bend down and caress a total stranger's baby in a stroller.

Names are equally puzzling; surnames are superfluous. Everyone is on a first name basis as if the country learned naming protocol from Dr. Phil. A waiting list for a table at a restaurant is first names only. A university graduation program lists the graduates alphabetized by first name. The country's presidents are known by their first names. All doctors are known by their first names, Dr. Mike. 'Doctor' is also used as a sign of respect: “Good morning, doctor” would be the proper way to address a lawyer or a judge. Music stores alphabetize their inventory by first name: J for José Feliciano.

Here's one for the churchgoers: In an entirely Christian country, no one says, “God bless you” when you sneeze. People say nothing, like they're politely overlooking your poor health. As if learning to be quiet following a sneeze in a country of diplomatic decorum weren't enough, do not tip anyone – no waiters, taxi drivers, or barbers.

Next, try your hand at Portuguese abbreviations. Brazilians transform every abbreviation into an acronym. Considering the enormous number of government departments with unruly titles, we're talking a serious number of acronyms. The Brazilian School of Economics and Finances at Getúlio Vargas Foundation is FGU EPGE, which becomes the acronym, foojewepgee. The abbreviation for a non-profit group is ONG in Portuguese (Organização Não Governamental). However, instead of saying O-N-G, it's called an “ongee.” UCLA is “ookla.” A VIP is a “veepee.”

For new software, people say a-p-p instead of app. Their one chance to use an acronym and it switches to an abbreviation. Go figure.

Confused yet? Brazil has the world's highest interest rates. A MasterCard or Visa will accumulate about 300 percent interest annually, 20 percent compounded monthly. High interest rates might make sense if people had large amounts in their savings accounts, but Brazilians are worse at saving than Americans. Only four percent save for retirement. At one point a few years ago, a president hoping for re-election ordered the banks to lower their interest rates on credit cards, and they all did it no questions asked.

If you're hoping for the legal system to settle your dispute, there are currently 20 million cases pending in Brazil's court system. The Supreme Court handled over 20,000 cases last year, and it still has a 10-year backlog. The Supreme Court will halt their work for a political emergency like demoting the president of the senate from his position. When it happened in 2016, the senate president was deposed not by a majority vote but by one Supreme Court justice who was in charge of that case. Because of the Court's backlog, most cases are adjudicated by one justice. In this case, the senator proceeded to announce his intention to ignore the justice's decision because it was political. Duh. The following day the full Supreme Court voted to allow the senate president to keep his position. Go figure.

When the Supreme Court has a very important decision, each justice is allowed to speak explaining his/her vote. There are 11 Supreme Court justices, and there is no time limit placed on their declarations. Only at the very end of their monologue, do they declare their vote. TV coverage can last one or two days to complete the final tally.

Stupefaction is my guide in the culinary world as well. It's not customary to find salt/pepper shakers on a kitchen table. If I'm a guest in someone's home, it would be rude to ask for salt because it implies the cook's ill preparation. As a result, homemakers over-salt their food. Restaurants don't have salt shakers on the table; however, if you ask for condiments, they'll be provided in little packets. Do you know how many packets of ketchup it takes to cover a plate of french fries?

I used to think math was a universal language, but even that's confusing. Our maid, who owns two cars and her own house, has a grandchild and a child who are the same age.

For all you fugitives with plans to escape to paradise, be forewarned you'll need to alter your fingerprints. I enter my fitness club using a fingerprint scanner. Some ATMs and voting machines use them also. There's a national ID system called RG, which is in addition to driver's license photo IDs, social security cards that are hard plastic, and voter IDs. Producing an RG is required for basic tasks like store exchanges so everyone carries the original with them.

There is no word in Portuguese for hooligan, thereby rendering the activity of soccer violence within the realm of acceptable behavior. Why is violence in the sports arena overlooked, especially in a sport that isn't supposed to involve physical contact? Good question. My theory is life in Brazil is so calm that people go out of their way to avoid physical confrontation. Any subject that might be remotely uncomfortable is avoided. Obvious mistakes aren't discussed so as not to create tension. Endless talking undercuts injustice. As a result, men need an outlet for their anger. They can't be 24/7 pacifists.

While violence is never an acceptable alternative to argument, ceaseless debates do encourage excessive chatter. Brazilians are compulsive talkers. If you want to speak, it means interrupting a cascade. I told Brazilians that in Bali the New Year is celebrated with a day of silence. No one believed me.

Brazil is so verbal, guys stroll through the airport yelling out “Last Call” for departing flights. Hawkers stand in outdoor malls proclaiming their stores' wares. Live music concerts demand audience participation. Considering every audience member is singing on every song, the performers are barely audible.

Maybe it's time to accept that the commonsensical world of the tropics is a myth. Why else would a woman chat with a cashier after she's finished her transaction, holding up the line? Because she's never been in a hurry in her life, and yet when she reaches a busy intersection, she'll dash across three lanes of traffic in high heels holding her child.

The most spectacular enigma is the way the country balances the contemporary with the ancient – ATMs and gyms with fingerprint-scanner entrance turnstiles mixed with three generations of families living under one roof. Past and present merge without friction like a pair of ballroom dancers. Today I was standing in front of a great stone edifice, the free university in Curitiba, waiting for the local bus, which operates on biodiesel. On the corner was an old shoeshine man who had no customers. Walking past me, a guy carried an unwrapped side of beef on his shoulder.

Thanks to all this talk about confusion, I've got a persistent noise in my head. Schopenhauer said the higher your tolerance for noise, the lower your intelligence, but I'm keeping that to myself. Perhaps the truth is it's not just Brazil that's bewildering. How did Hawaii end up as the state with the highest rate of homelessness? How did those lost folks get the plane fare?