Are you freaking out of your mind?

I have always loved the beach. Yesterday, it was my birthday and I tried, I really did. I plopped my towl down on the deserted Ipanema beach and tried to appreciate the beauty of the waves and moutains. The huge drops of rain persisted in their insistance that I take the hint and have the good sense to desist. I gave up when the wind started lashing my face with sand. Oh well.

I settled into one of those ubiquitous little beach stands with the plastic table and chairs to read. Suddenly, I was surrounded by six large, loud American men. Four of them, from my own beloved Texas, were buying those crappy knock off soccer jerseys that fall apart the first time you wash them from a street vendor. They then began to complain about how the water made them sick. Right... (the water is absolutely fine and drinkable, I imagine the week of high risk sex, binge drinking and overeating they excitedly told me about had nothing to do with it...)

Despite the inclement weather the two Chicagoans had set up a large Bose iPod player on their table and were chilling to instrumental rock music.

Now. for context.

I wouldn't walk around in Rio with even a watch. When taking pictures, I use a disposable camera or take pains to hid my digital, only whipping it out quickly when I already have the shot planned, then promptly stuffing it back in my pocket. Brazilians shed all jewelry before going out and are careful to keep a low profile. In fact, during my taxi ride earlier that day, the driver and I congenially discussed strategies for best avoiding a mugging. While I emphatically do not share many Brazilians unfair characterization of Rio as a "very dangerous" city, I freely admit only an idiot would ignore its high crime rate.

People recount stories of kidnapping and muggings and murders with pain in their eyes I would never want to experience.

So imagine my absolute shock at seeing a piece of high technology worth multiple thousands of dollars displayed prominently in a public place. I absolutely could not resist the question... ummm? aren't you a little... er... worried about that?

The Chicagoan's response surprised me even more than the stereo. He was deeply offended and irritated with me. He had never had a problem, ever. He had never felt unsafe. And who do I think I am? As if he didn't know how to handle himself... As if he didn't know Rio... He had been coming down there for over a year, staying for long periods of time and he had a friend and he was learning Portuguese with Rosetta stone! He was not some inexperienced tourist and I might as well mind my own business, because he wanted to sit at the beach listing to music. Damn it.

Wow... very taken aback, I simply tried to explain where I was coming from. How every single one of my Brazilian friends (without exception) had been mugged at some point or threatened with a weapon as they tried to quietly go about their business. I told my own stories of close calls with fights and carjackings.

I live here. I have spoken Portuguese fluently for four years and while I too love this city, I have the humility to accept the rules that govern this place and the good senese to heed the advice of the natives who are only concerned with my wealfare. I freely admit I am a foreigner who has much to learn about life in Brazil.

By all means, display your material wealth prominently in the shadow of the one of the largest favelas in Latin America in the city with one of the world's highest violent crime rates.

Oh... and those men were laughing at you two because you were freaked out by that bug. It's called a dona joana and is basically a glorified lady bug. Have a nice stay.

Extra! Extra! The TV wants your mind!

I watched a news report the other day on the Globo. The well-produced video footage, clear narration and array of interviews deeply impressed me. Informative, concise, emotionally impacting, tasteful, almost artistic... This is high quality journalism, people.

As the report drew to a close, the reporter concluded with (my translation - more or less) "THIS IS THE MORAL OF THE STORY. THE CORRECT INTERPRETATION OF THESE EVENTS IS THIS. THESE ARE THE ACTIONS SOCIETY SHOULD NOW TAKE."

I wish I had been drinking something so I could spray it out my nose for a more appropriate demonstration of my shock.

Gasping for air in a thick cloud of righteous-indignation, I exclaimed, "That would never happen in the US!" Ricardo dryly murmured, "Well, I guess you guys have it all figured out then..."

"Yep. Pretty much," just didn't seem like a very good response.

As I calmed down and thought, I realized it's not really like reporting in the US is unbiased. Fox News anyone?

ALL reporting selects images, quotes and words to leave the viewer with a certain impression... Here it's just a little more obvious: to say the least.

We can never expect journalists to fairly represent all possible view points without humanizing some and villanizing others. After all, journalism isn't a public service so much as an economic activity. Fox News, CNN and the local channels only put up content people will watch and generally people don't want to disinterestedly examine an event or issue from all view points to reach a well-informed, personal conclusion.

We watch to be shocked and titillated. Consider the latest Michael Jackson bruhaha. We want journalists to scratch our cultural bellies.

So I guess, I'm actually alright with patent editorializing. After all, the more obvious it is, the easier it is to refute.

Remember, this is a country were the press was [very recently] the government's key tool to repress political dissent and control the nation's diet of information. A little blatant moralizing in an otherwise fantastic report pales in comparison to relentlessly squashing a politician's career and wrecking his private life just because he pissed off the news editor. Huzzah for progress...

Gyms+Egos: the neverending saga

Ordinarily, I work out almost every week day. Rather high-strung, it's crucial for maintaining my stress levels and emotional stability.

I haven't worked out in two months. Imagine. Also, my normal healthy eating habits have been utterly disregarded in favor of large amounts of cheese, fried garbage and meat slathered in grease. This move/unemployment/new country gig has been so stressful I've been breaking out like an eighth grader.

This morning, I trouped upstairs for my mandatory physical at Alta Energia.

Oooooh boy.

I am amazed at how thorough the doc was. In a small, scuffed up room decorated with an ancient diagram of the human skeleton, this guy took my blood pressure, measurements, fat ratios, flexibility, resting/active heart rate, and on and on.... I'm in decent shape, but I've gotten a little pudgy around the middle. Is there any way to say that without making someone feel dispirted?

I then resolutely marched in to actually work out and was met by Paulo, six feet tall, moreno with great arms and a half-sleeve tribal tatoo that made me wonder how many bar fights he's been in this month. Sweet guy, very helpful... too helpful...

In the U.S., unless you pay for it, you go into a gym, do whatever and leave. People who talk too much or bother you are avoided at all costs. The gym is the pennicle of American independence. Now, I'm no model, but I feel after seven going on eight years of working out, I at least know what I'm doing enough to be left alone... right?

Wrong. In Brazil you let the gym "professors" prepare workouts for you, monitor you, and basically take care of you to the fullest. For me, it was a weird experience trying to do what I wanted, but also incorporating his advice (which is probably pretty well-informed...) I compare it to climbing into a pool raft. You know it'll hold you up, but you wobble around when you lower yourself down just the same.

I also had to resist the temptation to show-off... "see, I don't need your help; I got this..." In the end, he just left me go do what I wanted and took care of other people. To assert myself, I put all my intensity into it and it turned out to be a good workout. Then I nearly threw up afterwards... embarassing. "Start slowly, David," they said. "Ease back into it," they said.

Me and my ego have a long, hard couple of months ahead.