Blog #26 – Février 2009

Turning 30 and Its Corresponding Well-Planned Collaborative Celebratory Function
Many a co-worker have accused me of being married to a 20-year old, referring of course to Shannon’s blessed youthful and girlish good looks.  But the loyal readers of RC should know that indeed, looks can be deceiving – and in fact when I met Shannon at dear Roosevelt High School in 1993 – I had no intentions of “robbing the cradle”…she just so happened to be in the very same grade as a certain current Editor-in-Chief of le blog of Rue Cassette.  Which could of course lead one to rightly conclude, that if my 30th birthday was a recent occurrence…then perhaps in short order we had some more celebrating to do.  And this simple fact will, lucky for me, and lucky for you, be the foundational backbone of everything you are about to see in the words and pictures below.

In addition, many of you may also be familiar with the best-in-class organizational and advance planning capabilities that my wife is blessed with.  So if she were to apply these skills to a milestone event such as, say…a 30th birthday party, how long in advance would she begin the planning efforts?  3 months?  1 year??  Not quite – remember, this is Shannon.  And it just so happens that the fundamental “concepting” and celebratory function planning started over 8 years ago, between two college girls who had decided that graduation from academia and it’s associated jubilation wasn’t going to hold a candle to their…GLOBAL TROPICAL 30TH BIRTHDAY EXTRAVAGANZA.

And so, you can imagine my surprise when Shannon gave this proposal to me six months ago (a proposal NOT in Microsoft PowerPoint by the way) – a vision of two girlfriends toasting to their 30s, beachside in tropical conditions on some unnamed Caribbean island, a makeshift “bachelorette party of two” if you will.  A solid defense, somehow always coming back to the cornerstone argument “but we’ve been planning it for 8 years!” never quite made it feel good…Something about the use of the words “tropical” when we were living in Paris, and the word “we” yet not referring to me, were among my preliminary concerns with this particular format.

But marriage is about compromise, and with some minor modifications to the proposal I found myself taking a dramatically different stance on the concept of a global, tropical 30th birthday celebration.  As I recall, the negotiation went something like this:

LJ: Under page 4, section 3 “attendees” – I propose a modification to the text to include one “husband of the France-based attendee” to serve as co-30th-celebrator and chaperone, a difficult role but one that I am prepared to accept.
SJ: I accept this modification with a corresponding upward adjustment to page 13, section 7 “spending limits.”
LJ: Agreed, under the condition that we again modify the page 4, section 3 “attendees” to include one “friend of the husband of the France-based attendee” to serve as morale and gender-balancing agent, co-30th-celebrator…and all-together good guy.
SJ: Approved modification with pre-interview and consent from all attendees of the Global Tropical 30th, and a corresponding change in Page 1, Section 2 “Destination” to a more appropriate dual-gender location, namely “Brazil” during the week of “Carnival”.
LJ: I suppose that could be arranged.  Where do I sign?

February 1st –20th: Pre-Departure and Its Corresponding Bitter-Cold Winter
And while these negotiations were more than influential in my support of this idea, Paris and mother-nature were also doing their best to advocate a dramatic change in scenery during February.  Shannon and I weren’t exactly used to waking up and seeing the following view of Rue de Rennes out the window…and the corresponding frequent use of the vocabulary word niege (snow)…

Reports of snowfall from Seattle were even more dramatic than our “dusting” of white stuff on Saint Sulpice, which better justified our choice of destination completely outside of the Northern Hemisphere…

Paris was trying to do its best to overcome the bitter-cold and seemingly endless winter with Obama-style rhetoric and a reminder that “Paris is for lovers” on Saint Valentin (Valentine’s Day)…

And who am I to reject this valid cause?  After last year’s Feb 2008 pan-European study of Love in the Air, I have a ongoing commitment to celebrating Valentin, especially when it involves eating a heart-shaped gateau chocalat fondant (molten chocolate cake).  This is spot-on for preparing for Brazilian-cut swim attire.  Apologies in advance for that loyal RC readers…but i think it is an exceptional illustration of the complete and utter apathy that we had succumbed to immediately preceding our 30th bash…

The Girls from Ipanema, and Their Corresponding Memories with Responsible Chaperones in Rio, Baby.
Let me first just say that I am quite appreciative that Shannon agreed to update the 30th proposal with the additional “optional” attendees.  This is one that in retrospect, I would not have wanted to miss.  And while pictures and words can only go so far, I think you will get the picture that this weeklong event in South America very effectively served its purpose in welcoming four late-twenty-somethings into the world of the thirtysomethings.

The Cast: But before the main event, perhaps some introductions (or for most of you, re-introductions) are in order – starting with some basic profiles of the four lucky attendees:

Full Name: Shannon P. Johnson
Goes by: Shannon, Shan, occasionally baby (and generally not fond of “woman”)
Industry / Profession: Education, Teacher
Age: 30
Defining Role in this Trip: Co-Founder, Girl from Ipanema #1, known for organization, relaxation, scolding chaperones when necessary

Full Name: Jennifer L. Meyer
Goes by: Jennie or Meyer.  (But not Jenny Meyers.  Ever.)
Industry / Profession: Medicine, Doctor (Internal Medicine Resident)
Age: 30
Defining Role in this Trip: Co-Founder, Girl from Ipanema #2, Blending with the furniture when possible, emergency medical procedures when necessary

Full Name: Lars E. Johnson
Goes by: LJ, Johnson, Captain of Rue Cassette
Industry / Profession: High-Tech, International Marketing
Age: 30
Defining Role in this Trip: Chaperone, perpetual optimist, being confused as Jennie’s brother, avoiding the use of Brazilian-cut swimwear, being a general embarrassment to the group

Full Name: G. Demetri Heliotis
Goes by: D, Herr Deter
Industry / Profession: Law, Public Defender
Age: 29.5 (barely qualified)
Defining Role in this Trip: Co-Chaperone, perpetual theorist, sporting a wicked ‘stache, pushing the limits of streetside celebration, aka dancing on top of moving buses

A diverse crowd, but more importantly – a special and familiar crowd.  One that is relatively accustomed to making international trips together…dating back to a 1998 trip where the four of us journeyed to far-reaching peaks of…Canada. OK maybe Canada doesn’t count as international, but the point here people is that you put these four together in front of a pink wall in a Brazilian hill town, and it screams 30’s photo shoot!

The Location: As for the location, this paragraph is going to be difficult for me to write.  I am so used to outwardly promoting the natural beauty of Seattle, Washington (“A Gift God Wrapped up in Green”) – that I sometimes pretend that cities of equal natural aesthetic talent (or perhaps slightly greater) do not exist.  This game of pretend is nearly impossible to play when showing photos of Rio de Janeiro, so I will just have to let it go.  The town is simply breathtaking / shockingly beautiful, from the peaks of it’s lush mountainside lookouts like Sugarloaf and the iconic Christ the Redeemer statue…

…to it’s seemingly endless sandy beaches of names that everyone has heard – Copacabana and Ipanema, among many others…

The Kicker: Let us be reminded, that instead of thinking of Shannon and I as thrill-seeking global party-attending hedonists, the timing of our vacation breaks is all set by the academic calendar of Paris schools.  So if it just so happens that our trip to Rio coincides with the the timing of the largest known celebration of humankind, I shall not take the personal blame for this.  And sure enough, it did so happen to be the week of Carnival (“Carnaval” locally), which I would also like us to be reminded of the appropriate context for this celebration: “a farewell to certain pleasures of the flesh in a season of religious discipline to practice repentance and prepare for Christ’s death and resurrection”.  Don’t believe me?  All you need to do is look at the “anything-but sand castles” that are found alongside the walkway of Copacabana…

The Nightlife: We shortly discovered after our arrival that there are really two sides of the Carnival celebration – the first a set represented by lavish parades featuring some of the most ornate, gorgeous costumes in the world.  This mannequin, found in our hotel lobby – represents this side of the celebration – which was largely un-observed by our group due to factors outside of our influence (ticket availability and cost come to mind)…

But for us personally – the more jovial, inclusive, and observed part of Carnival looked much more like the following picture set.  That is to say, an endless ocean of Brazilian people doing something that I can only describe as “dancing in the streets”…EVERYWHERE.  Whether it was by the beach…

In the middle of the city…

Or outside of local favorite watering holes, like at Bar Bracarense in the neighborhood of Leblon.  The crowds were so…voluminous, that the area of bar service would turn into a virtual bar within a 200 meter radius of the building – spilling out into nearby streets, turning parked cars into bar tables and dance floors,   What to do?  Our natural and mutually-agreed group approach to this celebration was to adopt a simple policy of “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em”.  There is a little bit of Where’s Waldo in this picture going on, but I can be found quite obviously in white linen, and Demetri’s two raised arms (also in white) can be found about an inch to the left of me.  BTW – raised arms is our code word for fun.

Demetri became our resident expert of adopting the local spirit, to the point of extreme improvisation.  While the casual onlooker may fear that his “dancing on top of a MOVING BUS” to be a risky behavior, I can assure you that the two arms up sent me a strong signal that he is still in FUN mode…

In addition to the impromptu night-life, there were also a set of organized functions in the name of Carnival that we managed to get ourselves involved in.  Here are Shannon and Jennie proudly displaying their red entry cards to a samba-themed concert at a local club.  What is not displayed in this picture is the look on the club owner’s face when he realized he had to give two cards to the chaperones as well…

As the night-life carried on at the concert, I think it was safe to conclude that the theme of Carnival was truly – “FULL HOUSE”.  And amazingly local as well, with very few tourists.  This way it was surprisingly easy for the four of us to spot each other – identified by stark white skin (relatively speaking, of course).  This advantage disappeared by the day….

The Daylife:  To avoid the late night reveling and chaos of Rio, we stayed at a neighboring town of Barra (prounounced “Baja”).  Daytimes were filled with the guys rejuvenating, making difficult decisions on where to place the poolside refreshments….

The ladies had significant pool-time hours too, as well as Barra beachside walks where they strategized on the art of being 30…

Each day at some un-specified point in the early afternoon hours, we hopped in a taxi and headed to the core of the Rio action – for example here, on the banks of Ipanema beach…

Much like the nightlife, beach life was a bit tight on the real estate, and even tighter on swimsuits.  If you ever wondered what the Brazilians find themselves up to on a given February day, this picture may give you some indication.  As for the attire, some example man-butts found in this picture will also give you an idea for the expectations on the size of swim wear for men – behold the Sunga. (the female version was edited out entirely to maintain an “all audiences welcome” approach to Rue Cassette)…

And according to our trip approach (recall the “can’t beat ‘em” mantra)…Demetri and I had little choice but to follow suit.  Get it, follow suit?  And so it was time to become Sunga-fied. OK well the least I could do for the loyal readers was drape myself in a Brazilian flag to minimize exposure, and the associated drop in future readership….Notice that I am found in a rare, less-populated patch of Copacabana beach.  This may have something to do with a traumatic experience of attempting to change into this butt-suit in the middle of a crowded beach, and having to run far, far away shortly thereafter.  Don’t worry ladies, D’s semi-covered debut will occur in the near future…

The Excursions.  Rio has some of the best hilltop neighborhoods that are ideal for touring through daytime excursions.  One such must-see charmer is the area of Santa Teresa, which is best reached by a San Francisco-style classic trolley (you will agree that this is best referred to as “the Brazilian trolley that Could”).  If there is a two-hour line, then WAIT.  It’s worth it.

The best part about falling off the trolley and catching up to it from behind?  You can easily walk and still beat it…

Two happy passengers up front, experiencing a spirited ride to the top (well, almost to the top.  Turns out it can only make it 3/4 of the way in its current state, and you must walk the rest)…

You want your lunch at the top to go faster than the trolley ride?  Fugettaboutit.  The slow-cooked meats and fish will come out when they are ready.  In the meantime, ask for a Brahma draft beer and enjoy the sun from the outside deck…

The cobblestone streets of Santa Teresa are twice as charming, but no less animated than the heart of the city.  Enjoy the late-afternoon stroll…

And don’t forget to pause and appreciate the views of this endless city!

Speaking of views…if it’s panoramic you are searching for, there are two big acts in town.  First is the Pão de Açúcar (Sugar Loaf), which is a monstrous rock that you can ascend via two separate gondola cable cars (in the words of a Seattle friend, this will “test your faith in Brazilian engineering”)…

Prompting you to take goofy pictures like this…

And from that summit, you can clearly (or in this case, less clearly) make out the other major attraction – the Cristo Redentor statue (Christ the Redeemer) perched on one of the highest peaks in the region, overlooking the city.

Which, in blinding sunlight, will prompt you to take awkward photos like this…

The Grub.  These Brazilians love their meat ,and a recent field study of new 30 year-olds has concluded that they also love Brazilian meat.  One of the best sandwiches I have ever been introduced to takes advantage of this key ingredient (called Carne Asada, plus cheese and pineapple) and can be found at Cervantes Bar toward the North end of Copacabana.  You’ll need a Brahma to get it down, and if it’s February you’ll likely feel like you are bathing in sweat by the end.  Good sweat, not bad sweat.

The Brazilian steakhouse (churrasscuria) is of course a must-do, but you don’t need RC insight to tell you that.  You do need RC insight to get the best creamed corn in the world – which is found at Bar Beto in Ipanema.  Warning, since this picture was taken after the meal, it is not intended to draw you in, but instead provide us (the participants) with a good, full-bellied memory…

And for 30-year old approved high-class dining, don’t miss Zuka in the neighborhood of Leblon, as good for food as it is for self-portraits!  Rio, you have been marvelous!

Búzios, and Its Corresponding Departure from Stress
If Rio was the Prime Rib of our Brazilian 30th Adventure, then I assure you that our escape to the quaint beach town of of Búzios was the decadent New York Cheescake that followed.  I would like to take a moment to sincerely appreciate the actress Brigitte Bardot for popularizing this resort escape two hours north of Rio – as it was, in our experience, not unlike the sand castle in this picture below…Short-lived, but amazing.  Welcome to Búzios!

Búzios was the anti-Rio in a way.  It was a fishing town of sorts,  calm and charming…and just what the doctor called for after the pandemonium of Carnival…

What Stress?  A couple of beautifully tree-lined cobblestone streets filled with shops and restaurants, and VW microbuses as taxis…

And hotels and pensions taking advantage of the many coves and small beaches that surrounded the entire area.  As for the crowds…what crowds?

And since our digs had more privacy than say…Ipanema Beach,  some of us in the party were particularly bold in donning our newly acquired swim wear…Sunga time!

And others of us we’re feeling particularly relaxed and good about being welcomed to “the new 20”…

With four Seattle-raised coffee addicts in the house, I think it is safe to say that the biggest stress of the day was waiting for the first cup to reach the table…but we hid it quite well.

Daytime was about exploring the beaches of the area (best accessed by water taxi or boat!) – Azeda Beach, Joao Fernandinho Beach, Ferradura Beach, and Geriba beach.  This was all Portuguese to us – they simply looked like great sandy escapes!

As soon as that motor stopped, it was time to walk the plank, a sentence I accepted with passion…

Night times in Búzios were most about the ladies looking jaw-droppingly gorgeous (in a newly-found-30-year-old kind of way)…

And the gentlemen looking…not quite worthy of photographs.  Let’s get another one of the ladies, this time in well-coordinated black on the night prior to departure – for the official capstone 30th dinner!

And from this night we can conclude: If there is a place to celebrate a milestone birthday, rest assured that a waterfront deck overlooking the Búzios harbor will most likely exceed your expectations.  They restaurant staff may not sing the happy birthday song to you…but if you get lucky, your close friends just might

All Castles Made of Sand…Fade Into the Sea…Eventually…
And two other conclusions that I have to share after one of the best trips in my short 30 years…

1.  When your wife spends 8 years planning a trip, it’s probably going to be good.  Trust her judgment.

2.  Do whatever it takes to get yourself invited.  You’ll want to be there!

Thanks for browsing – until next time, we’ll start creating (less tan) memories for the month of Mars….