No World Cup, No Party

There’s nothing quite like World Cup heartbreak.

My first one involves my trying to hustle my poor grandmother out of $5 by cockily betting that Brazil would beat France in the World Cup final of 1998. Cue Ronaldo being out with a mysterious illness and my surefire bet going to shit.

Or how about that handball that Germany got away with in 2002? Or the way we rolled over in 2006 after all the FIFA rankings hype? Or that Ghana heartbreak in 2010 after that Landon Donovan goal had filled us with hope? Or the masterclass that Japan gave us in 2011 that forced us to go back to square one with tails between our legs after that Abby Wambach goal gave us so much belief? Or seeing Tim Howard’s once in a lifetime performance go to shit in 2014 against Belgium thanks to one idiot Chris Wondolowski (I’ll never forgive him)?

As you can see, I’ve been following the national team for a bit (admittingly, the men’s team more than the women’s team). This doesn’t mean that my heart hurts more than someone who’s been following US Soccer for a few months; it just means it really fucking hurts especially because this isn’t something I’ve ever been witness to in my lifetime. The world won’t really miss having the men’s team in the tournament, but the experiences of being in the tournaments are what I personally look forward to every few years, even with the inevitable heartbreak that I know is going to happen (at least for the men).

I can’t tell you much about who even played Brazil in the 2002 final or who won those World Cups that the women’s team didn’t win between 1999 and 2015. My memories were made watching the US team battling it out in the group stages. My memories consisted of seeing the growth of the game in this country with every passing tournament. I remember walking into a bar in downtown Dallas to watch the US take on England in 2010 and wanting to break down and happy cry because it was packed nearly to the brim; I thought to myself “yes, I’m finally not alone watching.” Or how about when I watched the US women beat Germany on the road to the World Cup final in 2015 in a tiny bar in Brazil where I pulled out an American flag from my purse (tada, magic!) and waved it in a German girl’s face as I stood on a chair yelling (I’m not proud of that but also I am).

Now what the hell am I going to do next summer? Where are my memories from World Cup 2018?

Disclosure: this post will focus on the USMNT with some references to the USWNT

The Players

Before I go off on my ArsenalFanTV-esque rant, I want to say that the USMNT is only as good as what we call up. I’m not sure where the thought process went on picking this squad for some of the most crucial games in the federation’s existence, but this is who we chose: players from Germany’s Bundesliga (Pulisic, Wood), England’s Premier League (Yedlin, Cameron) and pretty much everyone else from our own domestic league, MLS. On paper, this is a good enough squad to get a result against both Panama and Trinidad & Tobago. On paper, this is a good enough squad to clinch qualification in the joke that is the CONCACAF region. Yet somehow these players went from an all-guns-blazing mentality on a Friday to something akin to a death march on a Tuesday and this has pretty much been the case regardless of manager; there is an alarming lack of consistency that I don’t even know what to chalk it up to. The players let us down in a tremendous way and no critique can go without pointing fingers at them. How are y’all in a World Cup qualifier acting like asking you to put in a proper shift is the most difficult thing in the world? I tweeted at half time that if we couldn’t get excited for this match then we shouldn’t go to Russia; guess they heard me and decided that was indeed the case.

The Management

But, again, the team is only as good as what we have called up. It’s a delicate balance between the dynamic youth and the hardened and experienced veterans. You have to have a Christian Pulisic and a Clint Dempsey. But do you really need a Graham Zusi still? Or a Dax McCarty? Over a Fabian Johnson, regardless of injury? Not starting Geoff Cameron, a Premier League regular who just played 90 minutes for Stoke City? Where the hell has Danny Williams been this entire time? This team selection can be boiled down to one thing actually – we are still playing Damarcus Beasley. Maybe we should have seen the writing on the walls earlier if this what we’re still having to resort to.

We cried and yelled about Jurgen Klinsmann and rightly so. But then Sunil Gulati hires Bruce Arena who was already fired by the federation once before. What’s changed? He still clearly cannot coach this team or select well from the player pool of talent which is much improved from the early 00s. We’re not like Germany where we’re swimming in quality, but damn, this lineup was really the best we could put together??? Bruce Arena could not cut it before which is why he was let go and with a better team than that from 2002, he still can’t cut it. Wouldn’t shock me if another MLS coach (perhaps my own Oscar “Papi” Pareja) comes into the team in the next few months, but whoever it is needs to be thoroughly vetted and looked into. This cannot be a hasty decision.

But this all depends on Sunil Gulati and a change of the federation’s regime. It’s on the federation that it took so long to dispense of Klinsmann or to have given him so much authority on the national team set up. Did Jurgen’s insistence on bringing in dual nationals to be temporary stop-gaps hurt our youth development long term? Should we have given him so much free reign within different levels of the game as technical director? In the end, Jurgen left us with a hill to climb, but it was still manageable, though still troubling. Yet Gulati brings in Arena to clean up Jurgen’s mess and this was always either going to be a “by the edge of our seats” qualification or exactly what we got – nothing.

Gulati has been skating by on a few achievements for years now though. Somehow, this guy managed to stay on after not just the Klinsmann situation, but also the women’s team’s equal pay fight and also his staying quiet throughout the DOJ’s FIFA investigation. While missing the men’s World Cup is the most shocking moment in the federation’s history, we cannot ignore the fact that various men’s team have failed to make the Olympics (a great mini-tournament that the youth would benefit from), that the boys have missed various youth World Cups, that the men simply cannot get further than the first knock out round in the World Cup or that sometimes we can’t even compete for the Gold Cup. All of these things are extremely alarming.

The Youth / Pay for Play

Every time around the World Cup, we hear the stories. All the “what if”s of professional athletes who used to play soccer but no longer do so. Or the hypotheticals of what would happen if JJ Watt and LeBron James played soccer. What I’m wanting to focus on is why exactly we can’t figure out a formula for youth soccer that’s not involving the player paying out of pocket for the possibility to be trained. This is an issue that plagues both the men’s and women’s teams.

For as long as I can remember, youth soccer clubs have ruled the amateur/scholar-athlete scene. Arguably yielding more power than AAU in basketball, club teams are where recruitment to NCAA programs is made.  But being on a club team requires more than skill and talent, it requires money and that’s a major reason why our development can’t seem to hold up against the rest of the world. Check this out – about 30% of the US makes more than 75k a year, yet over 50% of youth soccer players fall into that socioeconomic. Latinos, the demographic we chase for ratings in this country, has 32% of the Under 18 population, but only 12% of male NCAA players are Latino and less than 7% of women NCAA players are Latina. I’ll give you one more – a study was done comparing the backgrounds of USMNT players to NBA All-Stars and NFL Pro Bowlers from 1993 to 2014. What a shock to discover that those soccer players had higher incomes, more education, and were whiter than the US average, yet the all-stars and pro-bowlers were below that average across the board. Hmmmmmmmm.

Chairman of U.S. Soccer’s diversity task force in June 2016: “The system is not working for the underserved community. It’s working for the white kids.”

So even US Soccer itself can see what’s happening. Yet youth soccer has continued in the direction of exclusion. Look at what US Swimming did – they understood they had a diversity issue and tried to do something with it. It resulted in an increased African American and mixed-ethnicity participation across the board from 2004 to 2015, culminating in Simone Manuel becoming the first African American woman to win gold in swimming during the 2016 Rio Olympics. US Tennis is also trying to get into more underserved communities to make the sport more representative of the diverse country it represents; I don’t even have to tell you about those girls from Compton in this case.

But what is US Soccer doing? It’s no longer okay to give the excuse of how young the sport is in this country – we are a grown ass country now. Our teams won’t improve just because they have more color in them, but our talent pool can surely improve if we go into underserved communities to cultivate the talent that simply rots because they don’t have the financial means to get noticed.  We must make the sport more affordable because poor families cannot afford to spend anywhere from $1500 to $5000 a year (plus the luxury of taking kids to and from practice) just for club soccer. If MLS wants to grow the game, more academies like those of FC Dallas (which are trying to get into these different communities) needs to happen; less designated players and more homegrowns.

A good first step for now might be to reactivate the now dormant US Soccer Diversity Task Force (an org that some US coaches didn’t know existed) and reimagine what the federation is doing to truly grow the game domestically….

Where do we go from here?

It’s the morning after and this still feels like the soccer equivalent of Trump winning the presidency. I’m counting down until the Women’s World Cup in 2019 as a way to focus my attention on something besides this complete heartbreak from last night. I’m trying desperately to look for a silver lining.

Bright spot – our younger crop of players seems to be ready for the challenge of playing abroad and competing with the best. Fans have always talked about what would have happened had Landon Donovan stayed in Germany and not come back home. I give you Christian Pulisic as an example of what could happen. Plenty of other players are giving it a go away from home – Tim Weah (currently on U17 World Cup duty) is in France with PSG, Weston McKinnie said no to FC Dallas and is playing in Germany’s Bundesliga, Lynden Gooch is still with Sunderland, and plenty more examples. I want MLS to be good, but if it can be the feeder league for US development, then that works too. The best are competing in Europe and we should be there. It’s telling that a lot of our roster came from MLS and couldn’t get the job done.

Another bright spot? Increased diversity in the women’s team. It’s not a lot, but there’s a bigger number of women of color suiting up for the three time world champions. This is huge. More WOC are getting drafted for the NWSL, the women’s league here, which means they can get a crack at being called up for the national team. 13 women of color made the January camp earlier this year. This is awesome news indeed because the rest of the world is catching up to the USWNT. Clubs in Europe are making a bigger push to inject more money into leagues (Alex Morgan just spent part of a season in France, Crystal Dunn is currently at Chelsea). An increase in quality means we can’t just skate on our current talent pool; we have to look deeper and I hope that these recent developments are an indication of a commitment to truly expanding the game for all.

And if anything, this has given me a new passion for the game here. I’m not sure how I, as a political fundraiser and operative, can make a difference, but I sure as hell want to try. If you know someone at US Soccer, put me in contact. I love this sport and I want to grow the game in every possible way. If Sunil Gulati as an economist can lead the federation, then surely I can contribute too.

And yes this sucks, but it’s not the end of the world even though it felt like it last night. Germany went through something similar – they had a horrid end of the 90s, culminating in an embarrassing Euros in 2000. But their federation and leagues decided they could do something and a couple cycles later, they are the reigning World Cup champions (oh and their women’s team is DAMN good too). This can be a positive, but only if we make the painful adjustments needed to do so. They will be expensive and difficult, but that’s how we improve.

Oh, World Cup 2019 is in France, which sounds infinitely better than Russia anyway.

On to the next heartbreak and the chance to make more memories!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sources: Aspen Institute, The Washington Post, The Guardian

Home means Nevada

Las Vegas is a place where anything can happen.

Unfortunately, the very worst thing happened last night.

Vegas was my home for less than a year but I loved every minute I lived there (between us, I hope to go back someday). It was the place that allowed me to rebound back into politics and rediscover my lust for my career. It was the place where I met incredibly special people that changed my life, both professionally and personally. It was the place I saw friends I hadn’t seen in ages that made for unforgettable reunions and stories. It was the place I called home.

Many people call it Sin City and I can attest to why it’s called that. But it’s also a magical place. It’s a place where you can escape from mundane living back at home and be a different person. You can dance all night and lounge all day. Drink all night and sleep all day. And even hike all day, nap for a bit and then hit the tables all night. Sure, it’s the epitome of capitalism with high end shopping and countless money being spent on slot machines, but I’ll be damned if I ever heard of someone having a bad time there (besides losing your money). It was our magical oasis in the desert, complete with overflowing liquor, nonstop sushi and steak, and the hint of adventure at every turn.

I think that’s why this shooting is so upsetting to hear about. People set off to escape and instead were met with absolute horror while they were at their most vulnerable. People left their family and friends with the intention of coming back and sharing those oh so typical “What happens in Vegas” stories but instead won’t be going back home. At all. Locals went to a concert, only for some of them to die. The videos of the gunfire brought me to my knees. I wanted to throw up. It was a bizarre feeling to see statements and interviews of those I know reacting to the terrible news unfolding. This entire thing doesn’t feel real to be quite honest.

Our little bubble in the desert has been burst in the most upsetting manner possible.

I’ll spare everyone my “liberal” thoughts on gun control if you spare me your thoughts on why an automatic or semiautomatic weapon is necessary for the average person to have (it’s not). I lost faith in this country’s ability to fight back against the gun lobby when we decided that even dead children wouldn’t change our minds. I’ll still be contacting my representatives and I suggest you do too though.

This sickening tragedy shouldn’t take away from the other atrocities happening in the world (we can walk and chew gum at the same time) but this felt so personal. I personally felt violated by this. For some reason, fear never crossed my mind on the countless times I went to The Strip. It always felt safe, it always felt like the biggest threat to me was myself. I guess the realist part of me felt that something could happen with the open nature of it all, but the idealistic part thought no one would want to pierce this bubble. And I don’t even know why I’m writing. Maybe I just needed to cope at 2am (when I began writing this) because I needed to get off Twitter for a bit. I’m being selfish and I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time giving you nothing insightful at all.

I’m just really sad. My heart hurts for Las Vegas, a city that gave me so much in so little time because home still means Nevada for me and always will. I’m filled with hope by the reaction of the citizens of Las Vegas coming forward to donate blood, to house tourists and so much more. I’m proud to know so many of you that are stepping forward and showing people what this city is about.

And I guess this is my plea to you – come back to Vegas. Don’t be scared off. In this day and age, we live in a world where this can happen at any time and I hate it so much. Don’t think for a second that there’s not a part of me that’s a bit nervous of heading to New Orleans in a few months, but in the same way that we weren’t scared to head back into movie theatres, we can’t be scared to go back to the Valley or Paris or New York or London or any city that’s been hit with terrorism. The city as we know it will change after this of course, but come back. Please.

Viva Las Vegas.

My beautiful dark twisted workshop

7 – Hours spent preparing for workshop
5 – Brazilian reais spent on printing lyrics
4 – Pages of handwritten notes
1 – Keynote presentation
1 – English/Portuguese dictionary
1 – Bluetooth speaker
1 – Churro eaten in my anxious anticipation
0 – Students

I had been told before I got to Brazil that there were many instances where ETAs prepared classes and workshops and no students showed up. It took a little over 6 months, but I am now part of that group; no one showed up to my new workshop series [insert all the sad emojis in the world]. I was planning on blogging about my new workshop since I was pretty excited about it so even though I had no one attend, I’ll still share so you’re assured that I am doing my job here and not just visiting Rio de Janeiro every few months.

Last semester, I began a political conversation group in order to get the notoriously quiet-about-politics Brazilians to open up about their own country while also asking questions about the United States (the number one question is usually the same: is Hillary going to win!?!?!?). It was a heavy subject, but I had decent attendance at all of my sessions so I thought I would do something else where I could bring my love of politics to the classroom in a different way.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a huge lover of hip-hop and rap music. Kanye West is my all-time favorite artist. I know every word to Nicki Minaj’s part in “Monster”. My Walkman always had a rap CD in it as a kid, from Biggie to Pac to Em to even Joe Budden. And I used to dabble in making raps of my own back in the day. Though I don’t listen to that much rap anymore, it’s still my overall favorite genre. While preparing for this semester, I realized I could easily bring together the world of politics and rap music together if I just looked through the crates and found that ol’ conscious rap that I have always loved.

I decided I would name it School of Hard Knocks; a cheesy name, but a name that stuck since I couldn’t think of anything else. My goal was to have a workshop series that could combine a few different things: listening, vocabulary building and learning to figure out context within text – these are all skills that students must use to take their TOEFL exam which lets students know what level of English they are at. I just really wanted to make learning fun!

Over the next few weeks in the School of Hard Knocks, we’ll cover music from NWA, Public Enemy, Kendrick Lamar, Tupac and some others. But before hitting y’all up with that new stuff, I wanted to take things back with a little old school in the form of some spoken word by Gil Scott-Heron (“Comment #1) and the “masterpiece” of conscious rap, “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five.

The first step in my lesson plan was to give some overall context for why these songs were chosen, in this case because of their influence on how hip-hop and rap evolved from their release, especially in the case of “The Message”, which remains so iconic even today. However, we would be kicking off class with the words of Gil-Scott Heron in his anti-SDS song, “Comment #1”, an ode to my love for Kanye.

The Game Plan:
We would listen to the song twice, both times with lyric sheets in front of them. They would be encouraged to just listen and follow along the first time and then have them search for words and phrases they’re not familiar with. From there, we would have a discussion on what words/phrases stuck out to people; this helps figure out if people seemed to have a hard time with certain words, etc. After going through these new definitions, I would go into a short history of the song and artist. Something important I wanted to add was to add the context of the world that song was written into. For example, “Comment #1” was written in 1970; what things were happening in the world that would have influenced the way those lyrics were written? Once that history was done, I would then explain the political references in the song, in this case focusing on Students for a Democratic Society as well as the background for why Heron describes America and African-Americans in certain manners.

For “The Message”, it would be a similar situation, though I did notice when creating the lesson plan that I would have to focus more on vocabulary for “The Message” than for the previous song where the context was more difficult to understand.

Overall, I was hoping to try to squeeze all of this into about an hour. Instead I spent about 45 minutes trying to see if anyone would show up, but alas, it was not meant to be. Of course, this wasn’t a complete waste. Being the hip-hop head I am, I learned a lot just by dissecting the songs and I know that I’ll continue to do so in the next few weeks as well. Is it weird that I enjoy my own workshops so much? Someone has to I suppose.

My next big project is creating a lecture on the history of American political parties and an overview of the current state of American politics so I’m pretty pumped to do that. Let’s just hope some people show up to that at least!

 

Keep learning,
Irma

P.S. Only 75 days until I’m back in Texas! (Sorry, y’all, I worked on campaigns and you live and die by the countdown so obviously I have a countdown going now.)

Learning to breathe

A few months ago, I told myself (and maybe the rest of you) that I was going to try doing some new things. In the past few weeks, I’ve started doing that in the form of yoga. Yoga is something I’ve always wanted to do, but never gave myself the opportunity to do because of “time constraints” or “work” or all those other silly excuses one thinks of when trying to avoid something because they’re a little afraid. I don’t think I would have ever actually gotten the nerve to go on my own though if it hadn’t been for my Uruguayan friend inviting me to go with her though so I’m grateful for that invitation.

In many ways, yoga is the perfect parallel to my coming to Brazil. I never traveled abroad as a student in college because of so many excuses: “it’s expensive,” “I’m an RA”, “I don’t want to leave my friends behind,” etc, etc, etc. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t want to study abroad, I just was a little scared to go to a foreign country for a few months. Same with yoga. I didn’t want to feel silly or stupid doing it and I let the idea of what someone might think of me hold me back from doing it. Lesson: do what you want to do and don’t let other people discourage you from that; don’t discourage yourself from doing new things either.

Yoga is the most difficult thing I’ve done with my body by far; each pose humbles me in its own way. Yoga is about a lack of physical intensity in the traditional manner, something difficult to wrap my head around when all I have ever done is contact sports which can be so physically grueling. I can run miles and not feel sore; I am usually sore after each class and I only partake in hatha, a type of yoga that’s considered to be “slower” and not as “physically demanding” (according to my instructor anyway). My goal is to start partaking in vinyasa once I feel a little more comfortable (and maybe a little less sore too). The best part of starting up yoga is that I was starting to feel bored in my placement city and now I once again have something in my life that I can’t predict and that makes me excited.

Yoga is also about focusing. You breathe in to forget the problems and stresses outside of the four walls you’re physically contained in. And it totally works. You really do disconnect and I’m getting so much better at being able to just focus on controlling my breathing. I wish that I had been doing yoga during the 2014 cycle, though I struggle to figure out at what time I could have gone to a class with the kind of schedule I had; to anyone who wants to hire me for 2016, you better hope there’s a yoga studio around the office.

Much like my time in Brazil has been a mixture of learning to be patient and being willing to be vulnerable, yoga has been similar. My instructor only speaks Portuguese and while 5 months into my experience I can say that my Portuguese is much improved from when I arrived, it’s still sometimes a challenge to keep up with trying to be focused on my poses and then having to switch into Portuguese mode. Luckily, my instructor is very helpful and is always telling me to feel comfortable asking her to repeat if I don’t understand or don’t catch something. Best of all, she helps push me physically to move/stretch my body in ways I hadn’t really envisioned; I’m a bit of a masochist so I enjoy it though.

I’ve been keeping a list of things/ideas to take back with me to my normal American life once I leave Brazil and yoga is for sure one of them. Yoga is helping me remember the kind of person I strive to be and to also remember my own identity.

Namaste,
Irma

P.S. Next on my list of things to do: photography, being more spiritual & reading more (books as opposed to magazine and news articles).

The Games

Something you should do in life: visit Rio de Janiero, Brazil.

Make it a life goal of yours. Start saving. Change your current vacation plans. Just get to Rio ASAP freaking Rocky. If you’re reading this, it’s too late; just go and thank me later.

I just came back from a few days in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and I swear I’m not off the high of it still. I’ve been fortunate to travel a bit for a 24 year old and it’s by far the best place I’ve ever been to. It’s not the place I want to live in (that remains a tie between NYC and DC), but it’s the place I now know I want to escape to any time I possibly can. It blows my mind that people live that close to such a magical place. I am the utmost jealous of those who will be traveling to Rio next summer (winter here) for the Olympics because it’s a magical place.

Except the Olympics are a touchy subject here in Brazil. While in Rio, I tried to see how the Games would affect the Cariocas that actually live in Rio, especially having just dealt with the World Cup hosting in 2014. Last year, I wrote about how Brazil might not be able to pull off the World Cup and the high price the citizens of the country would have to pay; I was half right, half wrong. Brazil was a marvelous host (even though their team got rocked by Germany sans Neymar) but the cost of hosting will be felt for years due to the ungodly amount of money spent on stadiums (many of which aren’t in proper use now) and the very little of all the revenue that will actually come back to Brazil instead of into FIFA’s hands. Not to mention all the projects that were left unfinished or just completely cancelled in the wake of the tournament. The cities of Manaus and São Paulo were supposed to get a new monorail system and that got scrapped. The new subway system for the city of Belo Horizonte? Not happening. Fortaleza didn’t get it’s light rail system either. I could, unfortunately, keep going with all the forgotten/missed city projects that were promised and not delivered. The only city where promises were mostly fulfilled was in Rio de Janeiro. And it makes sense. The city would be hosting the Olympics two years after the World Cup of course.

“[The World Cup] was a great party,” a local football coach, told ESPN FC. “But that’s all it was — a one-month party. Nothing good came out of the World Cup for us.”

When I arrived in Rio, the airport was under construction, with various signs talking about how developments would be finished by 2016. I used the new BRT (Bus Rapid Transit) system to travel from the airport to my friend’s neighborhood, a cross-city trek that allowed me to really see the modern transportation system. Each ride was R$3.40, but nearly all of the people simply loaded money into their “Bilhere Unico Carioca”, a card similar to New York’s Metro card, making life much easier at the turnstile (where I got stuck with my bags twice…). The price per ride was more expensive than my town of Pelotas where buses are usually R$2.75, but big cities are always more expensive; just think of the living costs in San Francisco or New York. The BRT is impressive and you can practically smell how new everything is. These BRT buses have their own lanes and don’t have to deal with traffic as much which is ideal for a city as busy as Rio. When I rode the subway, I was equally impressed by how easy the system was to navigate and especially how clean it was. Of course, the price for all of this wasn’t cheap and was actually a part of a $14 billion proposal dedicated to urban projects from when the bid was announced. The BRT cost Rio de Janeiro well over half a billion Americans dollars and it’s very much worth the price; the BRT is much more effective at moving people around and was a much needed upgrade for the city’s people. Yet, the improved transportation system was probably the ONLY good thing for the local Cariocas that I could see that came from the hosting duties of the World Cup & Olympics.

You can’t go through any news about the 2016 Olympics these days without running into a negative story about what is happening in the build-up to the Games, much like before the World Cup. With a year to go, here’s what’s currently in the media about Rio’s hosting of the Olympics:

• People are being forced to move out: “The real losers in the Summer Olympics Games are often the low-income residents who happen to live in the path of new development, whose race begins well before and lasts long after the official competition.”
• The stadiums in the Olympic Park aren’t even ready (picture for reference): 
• The water is disgusting and unsafe: “It is dirty,’’ said Brazilian Olympic windsurfer Ricardo Winicki. “It is one of the dirtiest places. And one of the most beautiful.’’ Yes, the water can kill you actually.
• Fewer tickets are being sold than for London 2012! No one will watch the Games!: “In the first ballot open just to Brazilians 4.4million asked for tickets. At the same stage here 20m had put in applications. A lack of interest in many of the sports involved, and the poverty suffered by millions of Brazilians, is being blamed.”
• Brazil is so f’n dangerous: “Rio de Janeiro police are reinforcing patrols in areas popular with tourists and near venues that will host Olympic events next year after a series of knife attacks on locals and foreigners.”
• And more about people being forced to leave their homes: “It was frightening”, Naomy says of the protest. “I was scared they [the police] would come back during the night. They want to take the community by force.”

Obviously I’m not for the government trying to move folks out of their homes for an event that lasts just a couple of weeks. And I think it’s crap that the water is not clean (politicians have been promising to clean Guanabara Bay for years according to the locals I spoke with). I’m not too shocked that the Olympic Park isn’t fully built yet (it’s not the “Brazilian way” to do things on time kkkkk). The proposed stadia are smaller than in London so it makes sense that there’s less tickets sold; there’s a year left. But I do take issue with some of the media’s favorite story which is to talk about the terrible crime and how it should be a deterrence from coming to Brazil.

Before I came to Brazil, I heard so many terrible stories from anyone who could open their mouth. Everyone thought I was going to get robbed or stabbed or raped or perhaps even something in combination. Like every other place in the world, from Austin to DC to Rio, any city can be unsafe; we do not decry Chicago as a place where you’ll get shot while taking a selfie next to The Bean even though Chiraq is very much a reality. You always have to be vigilant about where you are and aware of your surroundings because crime is always a possibility, you just can’t let the paranoia consume you. For what it’s worth, I never felt unsafe walking around on Copacabana Beach at night or while taking the bus at night through Rio. Stay away from dark allies and put away your iPhone and you’ll be fine, just like any other big city.

I’m aware that these sorts of events are never meant to be giant money makers for the hosts. They are purely legacy makers. And it’s a big deal that a South American city has finally been given the honor of hosting the Olympics for the first time ever. But now I just want the promises fulfilled because that’s the kind of legacy that I think the people of Rio would like; that’s the kind of thing that will stay with the Cariocas long after the flame is taken from the Maracanã. But I’ve had some difficulty in finding what exactly was promised long term for the citizens of Rio. Trying to find the content of Rio’s bid has proven a little more difficult than a quick Google search. Not even Wikipedia has the info! In fact, going to the official Olympics website turns up a “Page not available” screen; typical. This is the closest thing I found on the Rio website- a page on the sustainability of the games.

This is a better bet (coming from the IOC’s website) and the closest thing I could find to something detailing the actual bid. It details exactly how much would be dedicated to what – a bill that would be underwritten by the federal, state and city governments (the country of Brazil, the state of Rio de Janeiro and the city itself). In this, it mentions $5.5 billion dedicated to transport infrastructure (airports, roads + railways), $1.2 billion for environmental management systems and $770 million for power/electricity infrastructure. These are all items that could actually be of long term help to the Brazilian people and they fit in with the bid’s intention of “accelerat[ing] the transformation of the city“, a worthwhile and meaningful goal. It will be interesting to see how much the final costs will end up being, how much of these projects were completed and how much money went to its rightful locations instead of in suspicious pockets.

Ultimately, unlike the doubts I harbored about whether Brazil could get it together in time for the World Cup last year, having lived here and traveled a bit as well, I have no doubt that Rio de Janeiro will make an excellent Olympic host and that those who come visit will see not just the finest athletes in the world but perhaps the finest CITY in the world as well. Yet similar to the World Cup, the party will come and go and Brazilians will once again be left to pick up the pieces of the broken promises, whatever all they were, that lured the festivities to begin with. I love Brazil and it’s people; I wish those who governed them did too and would choose to do right by them at all times.

Tchau,

Irma

P.S. Some interesting writings about Rio: Brazil is not Rio.

The good & the messy

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. My apologies. In between some traveling within and around my home state of Rio Grande do Sul and while doing further adjusting to life in Pelotas, I’ve forgotten to write down my thoughts. Luckily my social media game has stayed strong; you can follow me on Instagram here @irmstuff.

Since the last time I gave an update, I’ve been working on what I want my side project(s) to be during my time here in Brazil. Tonight I started on the first of those projects – a political conversation club – that I have dubbed ISF PAC (Ingles sem Fronteiras Political Analytical Conversation).

Part of the flyer campaign for ISFPAC

For the past few weeks, the Fulbright ETAs have hosted weekly conversation clubs aimed at getting students to listen and talk with a native English speaker as a part of their English classes. Topics usually are generic and range from television (Brazilians LOVE Game of Thrones) to daily life and recently about American university life. However, because of the self-admitted “Brazilian way” (which is essentially to only focus on the positive and pretend like there’s no negative) and in conjunction with the unpredictable English levels that can be present in a classroom, the conversation hasn’t developed into something deeper and more meaningful. Unfortunately, with topics like politics or social issues, topics that I have been dying to delve into, a conversation can’t be had by avoiding the negative and without a stronger understanding of English.

For the past few weeks, I have also been searching for a purpose while I’m here. I’ve come to realize that the reason will come soon enough and instead of laying around trying to figure it out, I should attempt to just work and create to do something I love and see what happens from there. I love learning about politics and boom – the idea for ISF PAC was born.

The rules for ISF PAC are simple. The conversation is as organic as possible with as little prodding from me, the moderator, as possible. I have a list of questions to help guide the discussion, but if one question is asked that takes us off course – that’s okay. When the conversation comes to its natural end, it’s done. The first iteration of ISF PAC lasted an hour and a half of a projected 2 hours between a total of 10 individuals, including myself, though I would say that only half the group was extremely active throughout the discussion.

More or less, we hit most of the big questions I intended to talk about during the allotted time. I planned to discuss why people were interested in politics, if politics were a hard thing to discuss in Brazil amongst friends, how individuals identified on the political spectrum, mandatory voting and age limits on voting.

I began by introducing myself and my background in politics and, from there, the discussion evolved. We tackled various subjects like the political apathy that exists in the United States (thanks Texas), money in politics in both countries, to television advertisement, coalitions in government, campaign strategies, mandatory voting (which Brazil has), the age of voting, protests in Brazil, liberals & conservatives, self identification, education funding + the education system in general, how a candidate’s appearance affects voters’ perception of them (especially women), high taxes, minimum wage……and wow. We were supposed to start with a “30,000 foot view” today, too. But it was such an incredible conversation, especially for someone who had been craving that kind of discussion.

“People don’t believe in politics.” – Participant in tonight’s ISF PAC

Some of my favorite parts we touched on; there were many parallels with how people feel about the way government/politics work in the United States:

• “There’s few options…same things every year.”
  • Voter apathy was understood by the Brazilians, especially with the two-party system that exists in the US. Yet, even with mandatory voting and various factions, the same feeling was felt by Brazilians about their own voting options. Many of them mentioned how even those who had been previously dogged by allegations of corruption could come back after a few years and hold office, despite not being fit for the position years back.
• Television ads
  • In Brazil, political parties are given “free” television ads on public television. Yet the Brazilians in the room expressed frustration that larger coalitions could still get more TV time than smaller coalitions. And then those large coalitions/major parties still buy up more ads on cable.
• “Know the information because that [your vote] is your opinion.”
  • Brazilians ages 16 +17 are allowed to vote if they so wish. Yet one of our young participants said that she would not vote until she felt ready to do so (or until she turns 18 I guess since that’s when mandatory voting kicks in). Those over the age of 69 are not required to vote either.
• Mandatory voting
  • Recently President Obama said that he would like mandatory voting to exist in the United States and I brought that up to the Brazilians. They said that while they feel that mandatory voting encourages people to become informed and engaged, they also feel that politicians can buy votes; they noted that this happened the most with those who are the poorest. This isn’t shocking. After all, let’s not forget what happened in Mexico a few years ago.
• The Brazilian way + Protests
  • Something that is interesting when having a conversation here is what I know now is called “The Brazilian way”. As mentioned earlier, it is essentially to only focus on the positive and pretend like there’s no negative. Initially, I thought people wouldn’t talk to me about these more heated issues because I was a foreigner, but this is apparently a thing that people here do. Only in 2013 (during the protests) and some of 2014 (throughout the election) did the Brazilian participants feel that people actually cared to talk about the negative surrounding them. Yet that feeling went away “like the wind” they mentioned just a while later.
• Taxes
  • “It’s a huge sea of money but where does it go?”
• Education
  • Much frustration was expressed towards the education system in Brazil, which all felt was not properly funded (I feel their pain) and hurting students. One participant mentioned that her mother was a 3rd grade teacher who was forced to pass students to the next grade despite these students not being able to read or count properly: “But in the statistics, you are a good number.”

As everyone initially signed in, I gave them a piece of paper and asked them to write a sentence about government. I gave them vague instructions in order to see what they could come up with. With ISFPAC, I ultimately hope to see if discussion can help change how someone feels about something or if it will harden their ideals. Here’s some of what they said:

“I believe government can be good.”
“I think one of the bad stuffs of the political system in Brazil is a discrepancy between money that’s spent on the peculiar places around the parties or coalitions of it. Thus the richest groups could reach more people than the poorest ones (smallers as well).”
“The government sometimes does good stuff, but other times is just messy.”
“The government is necessary.”
“Government is about understanding people you live with.”
“I like government.”
“I really don’t like of the government.”
“In a           way I really like the government.”
“‘The capitalism is a cancer of the world’ – David Harvey”

Our next discussion is in two weeks. I’ll make a plan for what to discuss but something tells me it’ll be another auditory journey of sorts again. And that’s exactly what I’m hoping for.

With love from Brazil,

Irma

Love Blue, Give Gold

I’m typing this from Brazil.

I didn’t think I would be here 6 years ago, when I first applied to St. Edward’s. I didn’t think I would be here 2 years ago, when I graduated. I wasn’t sure if I would be here a year ago to be frank. But honestly, after my time on the Hilltop, where I am in my life makes complete sense and wouldn’t be possible without the constant encouragement to challenge myself in every way possible.

I don’t end up on the Hilltop without scholarship offers. Operation T doesn’t come to fruition if not for the generosity of the Brown Scholarship. I don’t have visas & stamps in my passport, along with life changing experiences and a completely morphed perception of the world around me, without those who contribute to programs like Service Break Experience. I’m not currently living in Brazil on a Fulbright grant if all of the above doesn’t happen. It’s all related and it’s why I’m so grateful for all that I was given.

Someone made a financial contribution to try to fund and invest in the future and I hope that, whether it was $1 or $1,000 donated, that I have made them proud with what I am doing. That’s why I’m giving to the Love Blue, Give Gold campaign. I want to pay it forward and help invest in & support the next generation of Hilltoppers, the same way someone believed in me before; in fact, you can specify your gift to the area of your choice if you choose to give. The perks of raising our US News ranking and the little koozie are extra because the real reward is giving back in whatever way I financially can.

If you’re still reading this, it’s most likely because you either currently attend St. Ed’s or graduated from there. We all have different reasons for why we loved our time in Austin and why our lives are what they are. If you’re reading this, this is just many of the posts asking you to donate that are flooding your timeline; I wanted to make mine a little different. And if you’re reading this, unlike that Drake mixtape, it is certainly not too late (to donate).

Thank you for helping me learn to think and to take on my world, St. Ed’s (see what I did there?).

Started from the Hilltop & now we’re here,
Irma Fernandez ’13

The frustration of “figuring it out”

1 month. 4 weeks. 30 days.

That’s how long I have been living in Brazil thus far. It’s passed by so quickly that I’m scared of how quickly the next 8 months will come by before it’s time to pack up and go back to the United States.

As predicted, my assimilation into Brazilian culture, specifically the Gaucho culture that my home state of Rio Grande do Sul is famous for, is going much smoother than I would have imagined. I drink chimarrao/Polar, I eat plenty of meat/bread/cheese, and I’m picking up the little phrases that could totally trick you into thinking I’m Gaucha. (until I open my mouth of course). The whole learning Portuguese thing is going about as well as it can go for someone who is incapable of teaching herself, but classes start in April and I’m quite excited for a more formal learning environment instead of relying on independent study (but I did get my own cabs this past weekend and the driver said he understood me).

In the past few weeks, my fellow ETAs and I have begun to start our duties at UFPel (Federal University of Pelotas) and ISF (Ingles Sem Fronteiras). It’s been a feeling of relief to finally meet all the professors we will work with and to get the ball rolling on what our roles will consist of. In addition, after a couple of weeks of lacking a schedule, it’s been extremely pleasant to fill my Moleskine up with things to do besides just dinner/bar dates with friends, especially because the students we interact with are genuinely excited to meet us and engage with us.

Yet as I have gotten to know the other ETAs on a more personal level, I understand that we are all here in Brazil for different reasons and mine seem to be the most different and I think those different priorities are at the heart of my current frustration at my immense amount of free time. My reasonings for coming to Brazil are much more personal than professional. I’m not looking to have a career in academics or in foreign policy (at least not any more). I’m here because life here would be immensely different to what I was doing back at home and after spending a year doing non-stop campaign work, a break from #campaignlife seemed like the best way to recharge before heading back for 2016. I’m here to grow on a personal level by testing my patience and trying to see how I can become a better leader through teaching. I’m here because I wanted to give a part of myself to something – whether it was a place, an idea, a person – and I wanted to wake up with the same excitement that I did during the campaign; the excitement that the work I was doing meant something and that it could be life changing.

Thus far, I have filled my vast amount of free time with walking around and exploring the city, doing laundry (the most daunting task when you have to strategically hang your clothes up outside), running at the park, learning to ride my bike in a place that’s a death wish for a cyclist, eating/drinking with my Brazilian friends, joining soccer games and…that’s about it. While watching Game of Thrones and House of Cards with Portuguese subtitles has been entertaining and has actually taught me some new vocabulary, that isn’t exactly how I envisioned spending my free time (for anyone that knows me, you know how frustrating I find not being busy; I’m addicted to being busy).

I know I’m really early into my time here, but I’m already taking initiative (just in case) and trying to change how much free time I have. I’m trying to fill up my working schedule as much as I can, I’ve began to make travel plans, I’m working out through running + soccer, my Portuguese course for foreigners starts soon, I’m starting my “research”/community project (I’ll share that soon!) and I’m getting in contact with some NGOs to see if I can do some service while here. I’m also thinking of trying out yoga or muay thai while here because why not? 

Yet with as many new things as I add into my Moleskine planner, the questions still remain:

• “Why are you here?”
• “What are you really looking to get out of this?”
• “Why are you doing this instead of being back at home, potentially padding up the resume?”

All of the answers that come up are so broad and vague, and frankly it feels like, full of bullshit. Of course I’m here to learn the Portuguese language and to immerse myself into Brazilian culture – that’s obvious and feels like too easy of answer, a copout of an answer; I’m frustrated that I can’t think of anything more concrete, especially when I know that I maybe took the spot of someone who had a better idea of their purpose. And if I can’t, is this whole time a waste? Or is it okay to not know and just figure it out (which was my mantra coming into this experience concerning my lack of Portuguese)? Is it enough to be here without an academic or professional goal at the forefront and to simply be here because I can be? That just doesn’t seem like enough.

Even when I look at the reasoning I gave on my Fulbright application for coming here, it doesn’t satisfy me (I wanted to play a role in the continued development and success of Brazil by coming here to help teach English, but that still feels like such a lame/”fraca” response). Having fun is always part of my agenda, but it feels like I’ve been having too much fun and not doing enough to make my time here mean something not only to myself but to those around me that I’m supposed to be assisting. I want to make a difference in Brazil and thus far, it doesn’t feel like I’m anywhere close to doing that.

Here’s to hoping that I find some more purpose in the upcoming weeks. Perhaps some time outside of Pelotas will help me do that (this weekend promises to be fun- check it out via Instagram (@irmstuff) or Snapchat: thisisirma).

Here’s to trying to live a great story,

Irma

P.S. These posts will have accents and fun links and PICTURES soon. My Macbook is still essentially dead, but is getting the equivalent of a heart bypass this week so thoughts and prayers for Baby Texas in this difficult time. I’ve been typing this on an iPad (thank God I brought my wireless keyboard) and I’m pretty over it.

Word of the day: picole – popsicle, not to be confused with pipoca – popcorn 

Relearning privilege

At the time of writing this, the Brazilian real was R$3.25 to one American dollar. It’s the lowest it has been in 12 years.

In the months before I left the United States, the concept of “white privilege” was something that was being hotly debated after events like Ferguson/Eric Garner appeared on the television screens of mainstream America, pushing the conversation to the forefront. 

As a woman of color, there is very little privilege that naturally gets attributed to me in the United States because of the way I look. I don’t look American, but rather like the woman who should be cleaning your toilets or your house (I say that because my mom used to have that job). But I am well aware of the privilege I have as an educated woman and as a woman with a middle class background. My understanding of what kind of privilege I have though has something I have suddenly started reconsidering and questioning since I left the United States and arrived in Brazil.

According to a recent study covered on a Brazilian economic site, the average Brazilian makes roughly $323 a month (this is with data provided by the Brazilian institution of geography and statistics – IBGE).

The financial disparity is terrible when you look at the averages from the northern states compared to the southern states: 



In my new home state of Rio Grande do Sul, located in the aforementioned south, the average Brazilian makes roughly $405 a month in American currency. To put this into perspective, in recent years, the American poverty line for one person has been over $11,000 a year. 

When I first started learning about Brazil within a context that didn’t involve soccer during my Latin American Politics class, it was during the spring of 2012 in the midst of the Brazilian financial miracle, though closer to the end. Business was booming and the Brazilian middle class was finally beginning to take shape thanks to innovative social programs and the strength of the economy. The famous Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro plastered on the cover of The Economist represented the arrival of Brazil on the world stage. Hosting duties for the World Cup and Olympics followed. Brazil looked ready to take on everyone this decade.

However this is not the same Brazil I arrived to. Since the end of 2012, the Brazilian real has began to fall hard against the American dollar, reaching a 12 year low of R$3.26 just in the past week. Just this past weeeknd, a fed up public took to the streets of major cities such as Sao Paulo and Porto Alegre to protest not just the weak economy but to fight against a seemingly constantly corrupt government in the face of the Petrobas scandal. Even with my paltry (by American standards) stipend while I live here, the money I make seems ridiculous in the current circumstances.  And thus begins my guilt and the realization of a privilege I hadn’t given as much thought to initially: my American privilege.

Since arriving to Brazil a few weeks ago, I have been keeping tabs on the exchange rates, mostly so I have an idea of how much I am spending and can see if the prices are comparible or way more expensive than they would be back in the States. Once the American dollar could get me R$3, I was simply excited because it would make the conversions so much easier for me. The dinners and drinks I was buying seemed super cheap and my wallet was the happiest it has been in years because of what a great bang for my buck I was getting.

But in the past few days, I have realized my American privilege more so than ever. Comments like “well sure, it’s cheap for you” when talking about prices or even getting fees for glass beer bottles waived at stores because I’m a lost American – it’s weird. And as I’ve grown closer to some of the ISF professors here in Pelotas, I have asked how much they make to teach and it just makes me hope that they never ask me. How can we be paid more when they are doing such a huge amount of work? Because I’m a lucky little “gringa”? It’s especially hard because of how friendly, accomodating and just plain incredible our new Brazilian friends are. They drive us everywhere, take us on errands and ask for nothing in return. Yet it breaks my heart to hear of the stuff they would like to afford but cannot.

I’ve had to deal with this kind of “Why did I get played the “better” cards in life (take that statement how you would like) ” before when I’ve visited India and Peru, but I also wasn’t get paid to work in either of those places. I hate being on the opposite side of the “equal pay for equal work” debate, especially when there’s nothing I can do to stop it. American privilege is something that I have taken advantage of (the novelty that people find when I open my mouth and reveal that I am indeed not Brazilian, but a dumb American instead….so bizarre), but I’m thinking of ways to use my privilege in the best possible way so it at least helps those around me.  I’m trying to think of how I want those in the US who have noticable privilege to act and I’m trying to do the same now that I’m here. I recognize and check my American privilege on the daily. But if anyone has any advice on how to navigate this situation, I would love some guidance. 

Here’s to hoping for a healthier economy for Brazil in 2015. Let’s get that Christ the Redeemer to open up his arms again.

Cheers,

Irma

Brazilian word of the day: grosso/grossa – someone who is considered rude, but they’re just being honest/blunt

Getting my (fried) cake and eating it too

Tonight is my first night experiencing the real Brazil now that I have found a place to live during my time here in Pelotas. In an attempt to learn Portuguese, I have moved in with a Brazilian woman for the remainder of my grant. Her name is Gilliany and she’s very sweet and accommodating, which is basically my experience with every person I have met in this country. She tells me she wants to learn English to communicate with me which is so nice.  I just asked if I could shower and she said that this is my home too and I can shower when I would like. I think it will take a week or so to get used to my new surroundings (especially the no air conditioning thing that I absolutely took for granted at my hotels and back in the States), but I think that I will do quite fine here in my new home. I am across the street from BIG (pronounced “biggie”) which is basically Wal-Mart; BIG and Nacional are two major stores here that are actually owned by Wal-Mart sadly enough. There is also a farmer’s market across from me on the weekends so that’s neat. I’m down the street from a McDonald’s (LOL) and I’m fairly close to the mall, which is appropriately named Shopping. Bonus: I live in the same complex as another one of the ISF professors, Nairana, too and not very far from some other professors.

I am typing this on my new old bed that the magnificent Mariana (I will talk about her often during my time here) built for me just an hour ago. I just showered in cold water in an attempt to cool off and it’s already my second shower of the day; Brazilians shower often and I cannot blame them. After borrowing a bed, I also had to get some stuff at BIG like some little shelves for all my clothes, a hamper for dirty clothes and some food. Weird fact: here they don’t refrigerate milk until the carton is actually opened. On top of giving me a bed, Mariana’s mom (who I have yet to meet) sent my poor self a bed side table, some Pelotas treats, a cup for coffee and a set of cutlery in a little basket. It was like the housewarming gift I didn’t know I needed or wanted. Brazilians definitely are as nice as the stereotype suggests. 

After moving out of the hotel and moving into our respective new places (we are all living in different spots around the city), we had lunch with the ETA professors at a really cool buffet spot (everything here is a buffet/pay by the kilo place). It was a lunch that was mostly spoken in Portuguese and I for sure felt a little lost. I’m gonna get this whole speaking Portuguese thing or die tryin’. As for the rest of my day, Kelsey, one of my fellow ETAs, and I went to another indoor soccer game and I had a very Theo Walcott-esque game once again: I scored a goal but also managed to play terribly. I am deciding on what kind of indoor shoes to buy – Nike or Adidas??!? Help me decide, y’all. 

…..And all this just happened today. I haven’t even started working with the students. Life has been so fast and fun and I love it. In fact, maybe life has been too good and I’m kind of worried. I found a nice place to live within just a few days and a couple of Facebook messages. The value of the American dollar keeps going up so that’s quite nice for me (but terrible for the country…). I’m going to my first Brazilian soccer match on Sunday. I’ve been able to navigate the infamous Brazilian bureaucracy. And above all, I have met some incredible people that have been absolutely instrumental in my getting used to this new life. I secretly really do love meeting people so it’s been wonderful to share life with such beautiful souls and may all the good times continue. 

Be easy,

Irma 

P.s. Brazilian word of the day: fraca – someone who is lame.