Oh man

Yesterday I went on a date with a Brazilian man--a local dance instructor who I have gotten to know gradually through my forró escapades. I was apprehensive about going out alone with him, but everyone around me was encouraging me that he seemed like a great guy and I should give him a chance. It was a beautiful afternoon. He called for directions and then showed up on a motorcycle(!!!) and whisked me away. I swear it was straight out of one of those Mary Kate and Ashley Go To (insert foreign country) movies...except that I lack a twin and my date lacked a nearly-twin fellow motorcycle-riding double. First he took me to a park where we walked around for a bit, then sat down and talked for about an hour. Next, we went to the mall, where he was thinking we could catch a movie, but we both had places to be for dinner and arrived too late to see a movie and get out on time. Instead, we sat down at a café and had fresh juice and bread with cheese. This was when the Olsen twin motif really began to crumble; I asked him how old he was. He replied, thirty-eight. He asked me what my future career ambitions were. I replied, I don´t really know yet. We ended our time at his dance studio where we took turns playing his guitar and singing. He played romantic songs in Portuguese that I half understood and then Love Me Tender. I played part of a song I had written, then one by my favorite folk artist, then I realized I really didn´t have anything more I felt comfortable sharing with him. I sat there smiling sheepishly, searching with my fingers for something to play. I passed the guitar back his way. He suggested that sometime I write down the names of all the songs I know so I don´t forget. I responded, Oh, I remember it all! But it´s all worship music! It was more or less time to head back, so after a moment of him trying to teach me a ballroom dance with which I was not familiar, I asked to be motorcycled home. Upon arriving at my house I instinctively reached out for a hug. He hugged be back and kissed my cheek. I had forgotten to take a key with me, so I rang the doorbell and waited for my Brazilian father to let me in. I felt like such a little kid, and seeing as they start early in Brazil, this thirty-eight-year-old dance instructor man could seriously be my father! All things considered, the afternoon had all the trappings of what I would call a very good date. But the person wasn´t right. I found myself wanting to talk about my roommates and how much I love riding my bike. He tried to convince me that I should get into the business that he is affiliated with, selling health food products to ´help people´. I am aware that we are people in two very different places in life, looking to go in different directions. I´m not sure he perceives that. I felt young and disinterested and uncomfortable. Beyond the normal tasks of my volunteer work here, I now have the added task of figuring out how to graciously, or not so graciously, turn down further attention from this guy.

Forgive me for being so brief and fickle here! I will write a much more lengthy, relevent, and profound post tomorrow! I am about to go out of town for a São João festivity with some friends I met at the University, and I couldn´t hold back on sharing this recent experience with you all.