My first job was at Chris’ parents camera store.
Skeleton (“skelektun” story)
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Welcome to the United States!
The decision about moving to the United States came after falling in love with Chris. I never imagined I would actually leave Brazil to any other country. Why would I do that? I was pretty happy there. I had a family I love, a job I loved, and lots of friends. Rio de Janeiro is a city that has lots of things to do, so I was very active. I was always going out, to the beach, restaurants, parties, trips, friends’ houses, etc. Always very social.
Chris and I met in Rio thru my old boyfriend. One night, December 29th 2000, my old boyfriend invited me to go out with him and his friends, and they were entertaining this American guy named Chris and his friend. I didn’t want to go, since I prefer to spend time alone with the boyfriend. But he said, “come on, let’s go, the guy is really nice”, referring to Chris. So I said ok, let’s take the American out. I don’t know why, but I imagined him being a very short, chubby, very white guy with glasses, which is not my type at all, although I know that appearances don’t mean anything. I’m sure there are lots of guys who look like that, who are incredible nice and make wonderful husbands. It’s not only the looks that matter, and also my opinion is not the only right opinion in the world. Some women are perfectly attracted to guys who look like that. I’m just not one of them. So, anyway, my boyfriend came, picked me up, and all of us, including his friends walked over to the hotel were Chris was staying, that was in Copacabana, in front of the beach. My Mom’s condo was just a few blocks away. When we were all standing there, in the sidewalk, someone said “here he comes”, and I being the curious one I am, I stuck my head forward to see who was coming towards us, and got surprised when I saw an attractive man instead of the short and chubby one. And I thought to myself, “Wow, he is so cute, so handsome”. After all the introductions, we all walked over to a restaurant called Manuel e Juaquim, in Copacabana, to have appetizers and drinks. On the walk over, I connected with Chris in such a way that I completely forgot my boyfriend was right there. It felt like the two of us were alone, walking and talking. Just like in one of those movie moments when they show the couple alone in an empty street that is supposed to be busy, or in an empty room that was crowded in a previous scene. I was teaching him how to say “the book is on the table” in Portuguese. He was very interested in why I wanted him to learn how to say that, and I told him it was because that was one of the first things we learned how to say in English in our English courses. He laughed and tried very hard to say it in Portuguese, and to my surprise, he did it well. The biggest struggle was to roll the tongue when pronouncing the “vr” of “livro”, but he was a good play. We entered the restaurant, and he sat in front of me, which made me happy, so I could talk to him more, and as many women would do, act a little sexy. I was dressed in a mini jeans skirt, and a sleeveless tight blue top that showed my cleavage, and high heels – just like any other 23 year old would dress in Rio to go out at night in the hot summer. I was disappointed that I didn’t catch him looking at my cleavage at all. Any Brazilian guy would stare at woman’s body parts, but he acted like a gentleman. Later he told me that he was trying very hard not to look, and admitted looking, but he was being careful as not to get caught. I smiled. I know you probably thinking “what a slut, her boyfriend was right there”. But I really didn’t flirt, or disrespected my boyfriend in any way. All these feelings were all inside me. My relationship with that boyfriend was not working; we had broken up four times in one year. That month was our last try, since it was Christmas and we wanted to give a last try. That’s when I met Chris. It’s really amazing to think about that. If my boyfriend and I hadn’t try one more time, I would have never met my husband. I have nothing bad to say about the old boyfriend, it just didn’t work for us together, that’s all. I wish him all the best, he was a great guy after all, and the decision to break up for good, as far as I remember, was mutual, and it happened 2 months after Chris and I met. I heard he also got married.
My experience entering the United States was a good one, except that I was put in a separate room for a long time, without being able to communicate with Chris that I arrived, but was being held into a room. For what? I would think. Maybe because my visa is a fiancé visa. After a long time, probably 1 hour, the official called my name, I walked from the sofa to the counter, he asked for my passport, and asked me a few questions, about why I was moving here, and how did I meet my husband. Then he told me what a lucky guy my husband was, and he asked me if I had a sister! After stamping my passport with the September 23rd 2003 stamp, he said the magic words: “Welcome to the United States!” I was thrilled. I felt was alone in an adventure, I felt independent, I felt welcomed, I felt like I was conquering the world! It was gratifying to be able to move in the world, exercise this natural need humans have to move without frontiers. I grew up in a Democracy, but being able to be accepted by another country was an amazing feeling. This is going to be my home. I didn’t know what the future was holding for me. At the same time I was excited about the future, I could not think at all what the future looked like, I had no idea how my life was going to be, if I was going to like my life here, if I was going to succeed with my love, in my profession, if I was going to be accepted by his family and friends, what would people think about me, if I was going to make new friends, and adapt myself in this culture, in this new world, that was so different than mine. I could not imagine what my life was going to look like after 1 year, or 5 years at all. I was also thinking about the marriage. How is to be married? How is it to live with another person, another man? Are we going to get along? How are we going to treat each other? Is he going to be affectionate with me? Am I going to drive? Am I going to find a job in architecture? How? Am I going to be confident, and speak English fluently? Am I going to lose my accent? Am I going to miss my family and want to move back home? Well, thankfully, of these questions are answered now.
Chris and I met in Rio thru my old boyfriend. One night, December 29th 2000, my old boyfriend invited me to go out with him and his friends, and they were entertaining this American guy named Chris and his friend. I didn’t want to go, since I prefer to spend time alone with the boyfriend. But he said, “come on, let’s go, the guy is really nice”, referring to Chris. So I said ok, let’s take the American out. I don’t know why, but I imagined him being a very short, chubby, very white guy with glasses, which is not my type at all, although I know that appearances don’t mean anything. I’m sure there are lots of guys who look like that, who are incredible nice and make wonderful husbands. It’s not only the looks that matter, and also my opinion is not the only right opinion in the world. Some women are perfectly attracted to guys who look like that. I’m just not one of them. So, anyway, my boyfriend came, picked me up, and all of us, including his friends walked over to the hotel were Chris was staying, that was in Copacabana, in front of the beach. My Mom’s condo was just a few blocks away. When we were all standing there, in the sidewalk, someone said “here he comes”, and I being the curious one I am, I stuck my head forward to see who was coming towards us, and got surprised when I saw an attractive man instead of the short and chubby one. And I thought to myself, “Wow, he is so cute, so handsome”. After all the introductions, we all walked over to a restaurant called Manuel e Juaquim, in Copacabana, to have appetizers and drinks. On the walk over, I connected with Chris in such a way that I completely forgot my boyfriend was right there. It felt like the two of us were alone, walking and talking. Just like in one of those movie moments when they show the couple alone in an empty street that is supposed to be busy, or in an empty room that was crowded in a previous scene. I was teaching him how to say “the book is on the table” in Portuguese. He was very interested in why I wanted him to learn how to say that, and I told him it was because that was one of the first things we learned how to say in English in our English courses. He laughed and tried very hard to say it in Portuguese, and to my surprise, he did it well. The biggest struggle was to roll the tongue when pronouncing the “vr” of “livro”, but he was a good play. We entered the restaurant, and he sat in front of me, which made me happy, so I could talk to him more, and as many women would do, act a little sexy. I was dressed in a mini jeans skirt, and a sleeveless tight blue top that showed my cleavage, and high heels – just like any other 23 year old would dress in Rio to go out at night in the hot summer. I was disappointed that I didn’t catch him looking at my cleavage at all. Any Brazilian guy would stare at woman’s body parts, but he acted like a gentleman. Later he told me that he was trying very hard not to look, and admitted looking, but he was being careful as not to get caught. I smiled. I know you probably thinking “what a slut, her boyfriend was right there”. But I really didn’t flirt, or disrespected my boyfriend in any way. All these feelings were all inside me. My relationship with that boyfriend was not working; we had broken up four times in one year. That month was our last try, since it was Christmas and we wanted to give a last try. That’s when I met Chris. It’s really amazing to think about that. If my boyfriend and I hadn’t try one more time, I would have never met my husband. I have nothing bad to say about the old boyfriend, it just didn’t work for us together, that’s all. I wish him all the best, he was a great guy after all, and the decision to break up for good, as far as I remember, was mutual, and it happened 2 months after Chris and I met. I heard he also got married.
My experience entering the United States was a good one, except that I was put in a separate room for a long time, without being able to communicate with Chris that I arrived, but was being held into a room. For what? I would think. Maybe because my visa is a fiancé visa. After a long time, probably 1 hour, the official called my name, I walked from the sofa to the counter, he asked for my passport, and asked me a few questions, about why I was moving here, and how did I meet my husband. Then he told me what a lucky guy my husband was, and he asked me if I had a sister! After stamping my passport with the September 23rd 2003 stamp, he said the magic words: “Welcome to the United States!” I was thrilled. I felt was alone in an adventure, I felt independent, I felt welcomed, I felt like I was conquering the world! It was gratifying to be able to move in the world, exercise this natural need humans have to move without frontiers. I grew up in a Democracy, but being able to be accepted by another country was an amazing feeling. This is going to be my home. I didn’t know what the future was holding for me. At the same time I was excited about the future, I could not think at all what the future looked like, I had no idea how my life was going to be, if I was going to like my life here, if I was going to succeed with my love, in my profession, if I was going to be accepted by his family and friends, what would people think about me, if I was going to make new friends, and adapt myself in this culture, in this new world, that was so different than mine. I could not imagine what my life was going to look like after 1 year, or 5 years at all. I was also thinking about the marriage. How is to be married? How is it to live with another person, another man? Are we going to get along? How are we going to treat each other? Is he going to be affectionate with me? Am I going to drive? Am I going to find a job in architecture? How? Am I going to be confident, and speak English fluently? Am I going to lose my accent? Am I going to miss my family and want to move back home? Well, thankfully, of these questions are answered now.
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