1. Appearance
Getting tanned is the first, compulsory step. My white,
burnt skin is a shining beacon from afar that tells people I do not come from
these parts. The obvious solution to this problem is to spend some quality time
on the beach in the next six months, something that I am perfectly happy to do.
Rather more problematic are my clothes. My attempts at being fashionable saw me
buy a couple of pairs of shorts, which come to just above the knee. Apparently,
this is gringo giveaway number two. The longer short is more fashionable among
cariocas. I may have to grin and bear the extra heat of more fabric if I am to
succeed in my bid to fit in.
2. Beach Behaviour
Beach behaviour is a crucial part of one’s quest to lose the
gringo tag. Locals laugh at those foreigners who ‘bring their house to the
beach’. That is to say, they come equipped with enough equipment and supplies
to last them a good few days and spend about half an hour spreading their
belongings out on the sand. Fortunately, I have devised a strategy to get
around the typical gringo problems. Firstly, apply the strong base layer of sun
cream at home, so as to avoid embarrassing yourself later. Secondly, take as
little as possible with you to the beach. Thirdly, buy a beer and blend in.
Part of that blending in applies to your beachwear. Perhaps in protest against
a ban on topless sunbathing in Brazil, the women seem to wear as little fabric
as is possible. The popular thong bikini really does leave very little to the
imagination. But if it’s sheer bravado you’re looking for, my award goes to
Brazil’s men. These exemplars of masculinity parade up and down the beach in
remarkably tight-fitting numbers, which offer far more than a suggestion of
what’s going on underneath. I’m sorry to be so graphic, but this is simply how
it is. You may now understand my predicament: to become a carioca, I must
embrace the speedo. I, too, must arrogantly prowl the shores of the Atlantic,
exposing my upper thighs to the power of the sun for the first time in over 21 years.
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| The Sunset from Arpoador Roack (3 mins from my flat) |
3. Language
English is another killer. It is the global language,
particularly the tourist’s language and most locals know enough to recognise
it. It would be naïve of me to expect my Portuguese to become flawless, but I
shall do my best to fool people. What I have done to avoid speaking English is
to pretend I am Russian, which is always good fun. I pretend not to understand,
forcing people to speak in Portuguese. Fortunately, as other language students
will confirm, the expression of a lack of comprehension is one with which we
are all painfully familiar.
This list barely scratches the surface. Of course, I must
get to know Rio like the back of my hand and not be so in awe of what it has to
offer. Yesterday’s hard lesson of finding myself in the middle of a street
party with a rented, bright-orange bicycle, struggling to wend my way through
the crowds is a demonstration of my current shortcomings. There are no prizes
for coming second. You can’t be nearly carioca. You’re either gringo or you’re
not, and I’ve got an awfully long way to go…
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| Ipanema Beach at Sunset (2 mins from my flat) |
