The Summer of Sao Paulo
Written: Sep 12 '00 (Updated Sep 12 '00)
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Pros: Paulistanos are more intolerant than I am therefore this trip was educational.
Cons: The criminals are vicious and without scruple
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| conglomerate_mosthated's Full Review: São Paulo |
The thought of accepting one of the internship "opportunities" offered to me this past summer flooded my mind with images of catering to the avarice-fueled delusions of sell-side investment bankers or servicing the whims of depraved, middle-aged women, touting their "Entertainment Lawyer" titles. So terrifying was my summer fate, I was forced to do what any elegantly disposed, first-year law student would do when faced with such a predicament. F the firm, I shorted my trust's genome issues and made a B line to South America.
To preface, few arrangements were made prior to my departure. I reserved a junior suite for six days at the fashionable Maksoud Plaza. The hotel boasts three restaurants, five bars, and a limo service dedicated to hotel guests. The limo service is a mute point since a drive along the traffic plagued Minhocao, the Sao Paulo equivalent to Broadway, makes a 5:00 PM weekday drive through Midtown feel like a ride on the Autobahn.
A quick chat with the concierge yielded a wealth of information regarding accommodations that rented on a month-to-month basis. The only abodes I found suitable were located in the secure enclaves of Higienopolis, Avenida Paulista, and Jardins. I took up an opulently restored flat in an historic mansion (opt for the high-end security system) within the culturally rich Avenida Paulista.
Must stops include the SESC Pompeia, an ex-refrigerator plant turned community center (think of the steps in front of Columbia’s library in late spring, minus the insufferable Japs, and their corresponding skin-shot searching frat boys). The Spot, yummy food but the menu is somewhat familiar. The Mercado Municipal, a beautifully adorned gothic mansion that hosts Sao Paulo’s most extensive indoor market, some offerings, specifically those from the Amazon, have not even been classified by phyla yet, I’m sure of it! I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself had I missed the ghetto fabulous Parque do Ibirapuera, where the buff and well breasted gather for park fun. The Terraco Italia is an elegant entertainment decision. It occupies the 41st floor of the Edificio Italia, a building splashed with the colors red, white, and green.
I addressed the issue of ground transportation by purchasing a used Honda scooter. Huge mistake. The air pollution coupled with non-existent traffic laws makes scooting through the city a literal gamble with death (I was so sad because my motorcross adventures in Barcelona were so enjoyable!). When the occasion of city travel arose, I resorted to my scooter or hired one of many commercial helicopters offered to the public. The city has few regulations regarding helicopter transportation so the sky is littered with Magnum PI-style choppers. I found it helpful to consume alcohol prior to boarding; I suggest an amount in excess of what the pilot has consumed already.
Upon news of the financial crisis in Brazil, I had thought the real so devalued that one with a fistful of fifties (pardon the expression) could afford anything. Sadly, this was not the case. The ensuing hyperinflation was worse than I had thought and the only real winners proved to be the conglomerates that took advantage of the interest rate swings and land devaluation. The familiar faces of Compaq, BankBoston, and Deutsche Bank have murdered the historic structures in Berrini using the familiar execution by explosion method, to make way for their homogeneous, concrete and glass clad South American headquarters. I have also heard a rumor that a building is being erected which will dwarf Petronas by nearly 150 feet. Can nothing stop the march of the corporate monoliths?
I generally do not comment on the more carnal elements of a city, however, the beauty of the people of Sao Paulo is so noteworthy, that not to comment would be a serious injustice. Being a man of the heterosexual persuasion, I found the women of Sao Paulo to be superior in both physical attributes and mating tactics than their North American counterparts. A sure sign that US-born mass consumption culture has not yet seeped into the foundations of South America can be felt in the cellulite free thighs and hard, sculpted abdomens of Sao Paulo’s inhibition-free women.
The women who now claim their stake in my overall development as a man performed upon me the most remarkable tasks that even the most lurid and ill-disposed farm animal would have difficulty justifying. When the fourth of the Seven got the best of me, I found any of the bars lining the Rua Fidalga or Rua Girasol in Vila Madalena to provide an environment ripe for rituals.
Oh, one last tip to all of the socially inept, meliorists with disposable income (i.e. Berkeley, Stanford students). If you are foolish enough to leave the jelly-soft, frou-frou environments in which you currently find yourselves (based on the state of CA's recent admission statistics I would wager you are), leave your ridiculous travel guides and bi-lingual dictionaries by the pool. For just as soon as you don your gauche publications, Sao Paulo's most unsavory will impress upon you the value of nationalism via the business end of a 9mm. Sao Paulo is anything but tourist friendly.
Recommended:
Yes
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