First day of Sao Paulo

My legs are sore, my head is light, my eyes are trying to absorb what’s going on. I’m in another country, my hair (as short as it may be) is a mess, my skin is super dry, my clothes are wrinkled and I’m dirty. My teeth need to be cleaned, my feet need to be soaked in warm water and massaged back to life. I’m a little groggy and disorientated, I have too many things in my hands and I’m hungry. Oh yes, that wonderful and familiar few minutes after getting off a long flight.
Mexico City to Sao Paulo, more than the number of hours one is supposed to spend sleeping a night.

It’s been a few hours since arriving in Brazil, so far it’s not quite as I imagined, yet also surprisingly interesting. It looked normal; it looked like a normal functional city. This means there will be a lot to find and uncover.

At the airport we walked outside the terminal and were hit by an unexpected and very welcomed wave of comfortable humidity. My first thought was finally I’m about to sweat. Since starting the trip, bar Moscow, all the cities have been cold and sometimes wet. It was so amazing to feel the heat, and to feel it in Brazil.

I’m no celebrity, but this next bit is all about how much like a celebrity I was treated. We were superstars, even if for a moment. Rockstars baby. From around the corner, the most unanticipated thing happened. Two beautifully branded mini buses came towards us, parked, and while our mouths were on the floor, a gentleman looked right at us and opened the doors saying ‘Welcome Smirnoff Team’. This is when I went crazy, jumped up and down, fumbled in my handbag for my camera, babbled something or another about ‘oh my god oh my god’. Okay, at this point you should know that I should never become a celebrity; I will most definitely make a fool of myself. The mini buses had Smirnoff Experience branding all over, the big silver superstar globe, some Portuguese writing which I think meant 10 people from 10 countries discovering the world through original experiences. At this point my jaw was the floor and I was getting ready to flash a smile to capture the moment in front of our buses. Rock stardom here we are.
Once the euphoria had settled, we jumped into the air-conditioned vehicle, our luggage had a whole mini bus of course, and dived right into the manic Sao Paulo traffic. It took about an hour or so to get to our hotel, oh I mean our surprise stop before getting to our hotel. A surprise stop to meet the 10 finalists from Brazil vying for the number 10 spot to complete the Smirnoff Ten.

Driving from the airport to wherever it was were meant to be, the most interesting and thought provoking part of the traffic ridden ride was seeing the barrios. The section of the poorer areas in Sao Paulo. Little shacks built almost on top of each other, dusty and sometimes muddy gravel roads snaking in between the zinc and cardboard houses. This reminded me a bit of the squatter camps in some parts of South Africa. Some parts would be like townships, which some people refer to as the ghetto but not quite the same thing.

In South Africa we’d have the squatter camps on the outskirts of the city, very similar to the barrios I saw in Sao Paulo, little shacks made of various materials including cardboard, pieces of found wooden planks, zinc (looks like thick aluminium), no real roads or infrastructure, usually tough to get running water and electricity. (Then there are the townships, which will be explained in another blog about South Africa)

Sao Paulo is similar to Johannesburg to me, a city of contrasts and stories. The poor, the rich, all out in the open, the diversity, the escapism, the realness and hardship, the grittiness and grime, the beauty and elegance, the status of being a city of financial leadership in the country, the creativity and gems you can find when you look for long enough with an open mind, established and forgotten areas, bustling streets, trendy restaurants, varied shopping, the rush and the energy, all unmistakable (I’ll elaborate one day).

Back to the surprise first stop; meeting the 10 finalists, all hoping to be the final member of the globetrotting experience seeking group called The Smirnoff Ten. With our bad hair, not so fresh breath, and tired bodies we walked into the room with the ten bright eyed and bushy tailed hopefuls. We spent about an hour chatting, laughing, learning about the final ten who had been chosen following a few weeks of rigorous competition all over Brazil. We made and got our first impressions, took part in an express getting to know each other game, ate a very cheesy meal and left them to their own devices. Their competition is not over yet. In about week’s time, through a voting system, five people will be selected and from there, one winner announced.

We will of course be there almost the way to the end, but for now we’re off to explore the city of contrasts and unfairly gorgeous people. I wish I spoke Portuguese.