Plans Change — A Brazilian Christmas and New Year

Having spent my last few Christmases and New Years in Ontario, Canada, I have found snowy grounds, homes decorated in an assortment of lights, and Christmas music playing unabashedly in every store and café gives me some much-needed Christmas spirit as each year comes to a close.

As a single, childless, fifty-year-old woman who lives far from her family (who don’t really celebrate Christmas anyway), I love the way the Great White North brings everything together to get me in the Christmas spirit.

This year, however, I found myself in Brazil for the Christmas season.

Warm weather, very little Christmas music, and relatively scant decorations (in comparison to our friends up north), plus the absence of friends filled with the holiday spirit, caused my heart to shrink three sizes. Well, not quite, but let’s say there was no abundance of festive cheer running through my middle-aged veins.

Instead, I was gifted with my own personal telenovela.

Christmas

Plans change is the motto that runs through the lives of the amazing people in this big, beautiful country, and none more so than my friend’s family.

Ali, his girlfriend Alexia, and I were due to leave Criciuma, the city where I am currently staying, to head to Terra De Areia, the first stop on our family-infused Christmas weekend, at eight on a Friday night. We eventually set off around nine, which is par for the course down here in Brazil — leaving later than scheduled is the normal modus operandi for most Brazilians.

Saturday morning brought the first rendition of plans change.

We were meant to head to Morro Da Borussia in Osorio to gaze down at the spectacular view followed by a lakeside chill to watch the sunset, but rain loomed large overhead. We opted instead for a drive through the “interior do interior” directly translated as “countryside of the countryside”.

I intend to use this translation often in my life moving forward as I think it’s absolutely brilliant!

This change of plans worked out pretty well as Alexia maneuvered both her little car, as well as, Ali and me through the jungle to an incredible waterfall, Cascata Da Pedra Branca, near Três Forquilhas, a little village nestled in the countryside of the countryside.

On the way back to the house, we also stopped at one of the many roadside stalls to get some fruits and vegetables (as well as some candy). All roadside stalls in the area sell these aliens.

Please don’t ask me why, I still can’t get a straight answer.

The one plan that didn’t change, however, was heading into Capão da Canoa for Brazilian crêpes which look nothing like traditional French crêpes.

A pancake mix is squeezed into the moulds of the machine and then layered with whatever fillings you choose followed by more pancake mix and toasted until golden brown. You can have sweet, savoury, or a combination of both. Like most Brazilian food, they are absolutely delicious and extremely filling.

Ali and I were meant to get a ride to Tôrres to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with his family, but guess what? That’s right! Plans change.

To limit the amount of driving for Alexia, we grabbed a couple of bus tickets instead. This change of plans didn’t concern me greatly as I, too, wanted to reduce her time on the road, plus it gave Ali and me a chance to chat during the short trip.

Originally, we were to head directly to Ali’s parent’s house but guess what? Plans change. Then we were going to go to his sister’s house to get the key, but guess what? Plans change. Eventually, we grabbed an Uber to his folks’ house (as per the original plan) and his sister met us there for lunch.

All settled in with nothing to do but wait for Christmas Eve dinner at his uncle’s house, why not head out into the coastal city for a sightseeing tour with my very own personal tour guide?

Cut to a few hours later, we are back home, showered and dressed for Christmas dinner.

I need to interject a small caveat here: Brazilians in general, are ravenous meat eaters — in the South, they are voracious.

“Don’t worry,” Ali said to me before we left Criciuma. “There will be rice and plenty of salads for you.”

“Great,” I responded. “As a vegetarian, I’m used to fending for myself when I travel.”

Guess what? Plans change.

There were exactly two things that I was able to eat, and both of them were rice dishes.

Staring down the long table packed to the brim with food, I was astounded by the quantity of meat that met my gaze. What amazed me even more was the lack of vegetables… scratch that… the lack of vegetable dishes that didn’t contain copious amounts of meat!

The health of this family concerns me deeply!

At least there were no traces of meat in the delicious dessert offerings, so I stocked up. Throwing all that sugar on top of the champagne I’d brought was not the healthiest choice for me either, but it did make not understanding any of the words flying past my ears much more enjoyable.

We drove home, full and still smiling from the laughter that had peppered the night.

“Plans changed,” Ali said to me as we lounged in the back of the small car.

My heart sank — I was exhausted, and that mattress on the floor of his mom’s massage room was calling to me more loudly than anything else at that moment.

“We are going to drop off my parents, and then my sister is going to drive us to the city to see the lights.”

“Okay, sure,” I said with an internal sigh.

I try to be as amenable as possible when I travel. It’s easier, and you experience far more that way, as I did in this case.

Jonesing for more capybara sightings, my Christmas wish was granted as we ran across a family chilling on the riverbank on our way back to the house.

This exquisite creature was only too happy to let us pet her and even flipped over onto her back for some belly rubs.

After a country breakfast and a lentil stew lunch, I was ready to get back to my own bed. I needed an early night — Brazilians don’t understand the concept of early nights.

But guess what? Plans change. What was meant to be an after-lunch pick-up became an early evening pick-up, and I found myself counting down the minutes until the car pulled up in front of the apartment building in Criciuma.

New Year

Fast forward to the next weekend, and we were heading back down to Tôrres to bring in the New Year. I was informed that we would be leaving after lunch.

Call me a complete Gringa but after lunch is around 2 pm.

Perfect! I needed to get some writing and editing done.

“What time are we leaving?” I ask Ali as he wandered past my room.

“Around 3 pm,” he said.

“I thought you said we were leaving after lunch.”

“That IS after lunch,” he smiled, knowing full well I have a very Gringa mindset.

I can’t fault him — 3 pm is after lunch.

Well, as I’m sure you can imagine, plans changed, three moved to four which moved to five and we eventually found ourselves on the road shortly before six.

Plans change!

On the way down to Tôrres, I was given a full rundown of entrevero, a dish from South Brazil containing a buttload of meat fried up in a skillet with onion, peppers, and tomatoes, and then placed on a bun. Basically, a sandwich.

I was immediately told in no uncertain terms that it was definitely NOT a sandwich, it was entrevero — okay then, a South Brazilian sandwich. Regardless, I was looking forward to trying the special vegetarian version of the dish that was being made especially for me.

Unfortunately, this was not to be. Would you like to guess why? Give yourself a hundred dollars, you’re correct. Plans change!

When we arrived at Ali’s sister’s place, we were greeted with salgadinhos, what we would call finger food. Different meats and cheeses covered in various fried doughs.

God bless the lot of them, ricotta ones had been ordered for me.

New Year’s Eve came. Plans changed.

• Firstly, we were going to Ali’s sister’s house for dinner but, plans changed. We ate at his folks’ house.
• His mom was meant to come home at 5 pm, but plans changed, and she only made it back around 7 pm.
• Dinner was meant to be at 8 pm, but plans changed, and we ate after 9 pm.
• We were going to watch the fireworks on the beach, but plans changed, and we watched them from the wooden bridge on the way to the beach.
• We were going to cross to the beach from the bridge closest to the car, but plans changed, and we wandered quite a bit further down to “a better bridge”.
• We were going to drink champagne, which, thankfully, didn’t change, but the food was left at home. As much as I’d love to blame that on a change of plans, it was a simple lapse in memory.

My lightweight butt was expecting a little something to sop up the champagne that I was sucking down, but alas, my plans had to change.

A little melancholy

Maybe it was the Full Moon in Cancer, my birth sign which coincidentally is also ruled by the moon, but I was feeling a little melancholy leading up to the New Year.

With a heavy cooler in my hand, I wandered along the path leading to the bridge surrounded by rapid-fire Portuguese, understanding nothing and caught up in a moment of missing my home and loved ones back in Canada.

Plans had changed so many times over the weekend that I had no idea what would happen next. A lovely young Colombian woman came over to talk to me. She was a colleague of Ali’s sister and wanted to practice her English.

As her gentle tones caressed my language, my mood began to lift.

With the champagne settling into my belly, I started to enjoy the moment. The coolness in the air, the happiness of a close family surrounding me, sincerely enjoying each other’s company, and the feeling of love that emanated from them.

The fireworks began, a whoop filled the air, and the chatter increased in intensity as everyone marvelled at the display lighting up the sky.

I’d love to say I got through the rest of the long weekend without another plan changing but alas, you know what they say down here in Brazil.

Plans change.

Please feel free to buy me a coffee if you like what you read.