Tag Archives: Ceará

Friday Night “Happy Hour” in Brazil

24 Sunday Feb 2013

Posted by in Brazil, Leisure & Entertainment, Working Life

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Toast with Mugs of Beer

Toast with Mugs of Beer

Source: jangadeiroonline.com.br

 

Brazilians love cervejas (beer). Women are beer drinkers on a par with men. With the high demand for beer, the national production of 13 billion liters places Brazil in third place worldwide, after China and the United States (CervBrasil). Happy hour on Friday evenings after work was not only the time for friends to get together after a week of hard work, it was also time for enjoying your favorite beer and trying out new brands.

About a year after joining the staff at Ceará Importers,* the other three female department heads invited me to join them for a happy hour at their favorite barraca on the beach, Praia do Futuro, a fifteen-minute drive from our workplace. Fátima* was a widow with a fifteen-year-old daughter. Regina* was a young married woman with a toddler. Tatiana* was single, with a boyfriend who kept track of her movements by frequent calls to her cell phone. They encouraged me to try a beer.

Barraca - Praia do Futuro - CearaBarraca – Praia do Futuro – Ceará

As an adolescent, after witnessing the violent behavior and human degradation of rum drinkers in my native land, I had made an oath never to consume alcoholic beverages.

“You have to loosen up,” Fátima told me. “Life is tough. We have to take advantage of the good things at our disposal.”

They filled up on six rounds of beers that had to be ice-cold. Fearful of getting tipsy and not getting home safely, I nursed one bottle of beer. I enjoyed our time together and joined them on subsequent occasions when I was not working late.

The last time we spent a happy hour together took place in an upscale restaurant and bar in Fortaleza. We talked about work, life, and our dreams. Our laughter grew louder with each new round of beers. Our waiter surprised us with a free round of beers, compliments of a group of handsome young men at a table nearby. With my self-limit of three beers, I remained totally alert.

We celebrated Regina’s new home-based marmita business venture: hot meals in round aluminum containers delivered to her customers at their workplace. Given the success during her first three months in operation, she invited us to partner with her to cater to the growing demand for her marmitas. Raising our glasses above our heads, we toasted our future together as entrepreneurs.

Our plan for becoming entrepreneurs was short-lived. Shortly afterwards, Regina was fired for embezzling the firm. It was an unsettling time.

Through our happy hours together, I had forged a bond with my female colleagues and was accepted as one of them. I smile on remembering the Friday night we stood on the beach and howled at the full moon.

*Fictitious Name

LEARN ABOUT BRAZIL’S BEER MARKET:

Brazil: Training as an Import/Export Manager in the Fresh Fruit Market

10 Sunday Jun 2012

Posted by in Brazil, Working Life

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Port of Rotterdam, Netherlands – Europe’s main trading and distribution center for fruits, vegetable and fruit juices (Source: thelink.co.in)

When I embarked on my new career as an international trade professional, there were no international business courses yet available at the educational institutions in Fortaleza, capital of the Northeastern State of Ceará. Anyone seeking qualification in the field had to move down south to the major commercial cities, such as São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. Then in 1990, President Fernando Collor de Mello (1990-1992) opened the Brazilian market to imports, increasing the demand for qualified international trade professionals throughout the country.

By the time I had joined the import/export team at Melon Exporters S.A. (fictitious name), two-day specialized certificate courses (a total of 16 hours) had become available at privately-run training institutes for business executives and entrepreneurs. Qualified experts in their fields, the majority of them from São Paulo, conducted these courses. During the two years (1992-1994) that I worked at Melon Exporters S.A., the president and owner of the company, at my request, not only granted me the time off (usually Fridays and Saturdays), but also (at his own discretion) granted approval for payment of these courses.

I also participated in one-day seminars conducted by the Banco do Brasil, controlled by the Brazilian government and responsible for issuing Import and Export Licenses; conferences for importers and exporters held by state and federal government organs; and regional agricultural fairs and expositions.

At the request of the company’s Commercial Director, I kept a record of the UK wholesale market prices for melons published in the Fresh Produce Journal. I read the weekly-published journal from front to back, as well as a monthly English magazine for fruit growers (the name slips me) that the company also subscribed to. Through books (we did not have Wikipedia at the time), I immersed myself in the European fresh fruit market and the logistics of moving fresh fruit from the farm gate to overseas buyers.

It was a fascinating and challenging journey of discovery, learning, and achievement!

When one lacks funds, time or whatever obstacles stand in the way of achieving one’s goals, there is always a way. It requires more effort and determination. With focus and passion, it is truly amazing what one can achieve.

Brazil: My First Meeting with an Overseas Client

20 Sunday May 2012

Posted by in Brazil, Working Life

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Buggy Ride across Sand Dunes in Ceará, Brazil

Source: guiadolitoral.uol.com.br

 

My first meeting with an overseas client took place on a Sunday at the beach front of Tabuba, 13.7 miles from Fortaleza, capital of Ceará. With an extensive beach and high sand dunes, Praia de Tabuba is great for buggy rides.

Doutor Antônio, the owner and president of the melon exporting company where I worked, provided company transport to take me and my two sons to his private beach condo at Tabuba. The hot, outdoor churrasco (barbecue) called for light, casual clothing with swimwear for a dip in the condominium’s swimming pool or a wade in the ocean.

Arriving at the condo, we were escorted to the outdoor patio on the ground floor. While Doutor Antônio introduced me to our visiting British client, CEO of a major food chain, seated at a table with the company’s three directors, his wife Dona Rosa took my sons to join the other children under the care of their two teenage daughters.

When Dona Rosa introduced me to the wives of our British client and company directors, one of them expressed relief at my arrival. “How do I tell her that I adored the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace?” she told me.

Seated in a prime position between Dona Rosa and our honored guest, I soon realized that my role at the churrasco was that of English/Portuguese interpreter. There was nothing complex about the conversation among the women: small talk about Brazil, England, and family life. But being a first-time interpreter required great concentration on my part, reminding me that the beautiful sunny day by the beach was in fact another working day.

Over bottles of cold beer and servings of barbecue meat, chicken, fish, and French fries sprinkled with grated cheese, the men appeared to be communicating well with their limited English-speaking skills. At the women’s table, those who did not drink beer, like yours truly, could choose from fresh fruit drinks and coconut water.

But the day was not all work. In the early afternoon, we all went for buggy rides along the beach and across the sand dunes. What a thrill! More so for my sons who also had a great time playing with the other children.

My first contact with an overseas client was a lesson in small talk and the first of numerous future experiences as an interpreter. If you plan to do business with Brazil, I strongly recommend that you brush up on your skills in small talk. Be prepared to answer questions about your country and to share personal tidbits about yourself and your family.

Through such informal business events, Brazilians develop trust with their (potential) clients for a long-lasting business relationship. The visiting British couple spent that weekend at Doutor Antônio’s condo in Tabuba. Brazilian hospitality at its best.

On Monday morning, I accompanied our president, commercial director, and British client on the two-hour drive to the company’s melon farm, over 125 miles from Fortaleza.

Living Behind High Walls

14 Sunday Aug 2011

Posted by in Brazil, Urban Violence

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Entrance (Portaria) to Apartment Building in Fortaleza, Ceará, Brazil

When I migrated to Brazil with my husband and two sons in April 1987, Brazil had not long ago emerged from 21 years of military dictatorship rule (1964-1985). As we settled in to make our home there, we did not realize that Brazil had a long way to go before it could address the glaring inequality between the population and the minority upper class that owned and controlled the agricultural lands, major industries, financial institutions, and the media.

During our first week in Fortaleza, we entered a tiny neighborhood mercearia (grocery shop) and boggled at the shelves stuffed with a wide variety of canned, bottled, and other food products. In the stores in downtown Fortaleza, there were no shortages of consumer goods – all Made in Brazil.

Our elation was short-lived. Inflation, like a woodpecker, whittled away at the meager profits of our home-based pastry business. Like the low-paid worker, we could not earn enough to keep pace with the constant price increases of staple and other essential items.

Together with the majority working class, we jostled for survival. Street children and adolescents roamed downtown, major streets, and beach fronts in search of food and whatever they could snatch. They targeted women (myself included) and the elderly. Bandidos (bandits) did not hesitate to kill whenever they encountered resistance. If you had no money, they took your clothing and shoes, leaving you in your underwear. Pistoleiros (gunmen) for hire eliminated enemies and rivals for as little as fifty US dollars.

In the middle and upper class neighborhoods, private security guards manned portarias (guard huts, like the one shown in the above photo) at the entrance of apartment buildings. Houses hid behind high walls, some with signs ‘Cuidado com o Cão’ (Beware of the Dog). To avoid triggering angry responses from guard dogs on the other side of walled residences, I shunned the sidewalk and walked on the street.

I was not familiar with the numerous popular breeds of guard dogs. But one of them was notorious: the Pit Bull.  The Pit Bull had arrived in Brazil a year after we did and soon gained a reputation as a beast, capable of brutally killing a person. Cases of such deaths usually hit the headlines of Brazil’s TV Network.

The day a Pit Bull escaped from a yard while I was walking by on the street left me shaken. Before his owner had secured him by his collar, he had snapped at the back of my left calf, ripping my sheer nylon stocking, and leaving red teeth marks.

Brazil is currently debating a law to prohibit the sale and breeding of the Pit Bull as well as sixteen other fierce dogs. A number of Brazilian states have already done so. Owners of Pit Bulls must secure them with collars, chains, and muzzles. Offenders are heavily fined. Imprisonment awaits those whose animals injure or kill their victims.

The Pit Bull was not my kind of companion. I found refuge from the violence stalking the city behind high walls.

Riding the Bus in Fortaleza, Brazil

24 Sunday Jul 2011

Posted by in Brazil

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SOURCE: Population Demands More Buses, Diário do Nordeste, Fortaleza, 2008

Be prepared for anything when you use the bus in Fortaleza, capital of the northeastern State of Ceará. More so, if you are a woman.  But if you’re like me and you don’t drive, the bus is an everyday lesson in tolerance and sharing space: sometimes, a very tight space.

During the first month of our arrival in Fortaleza, I learned not to enter a bus with little standing room. As you have to pay the trocador and pass through the turnstile, you cannot get off the bus through the entrance. When my stop approached, I couldn’t squeeze my way towards the exit. I was forced to remain on the bus until it reached the terminal.

Getting to work by public transport was a waking nightmare. There were never enough buses during peak hours. If I wanted to get to work on time, I could not make the mistake of thinking that the next bus would be better. It could be clogged at the entrance! It’s no way to start your workday, especially if you have to take two or three buses.

I leave you to imagine what wives, sisters, mothers, and daughters must face under such a tight squeeze, especially when targeted by perverted males on the hunt. Until the day I started working for a manufacturer that provided privately operated buses for its workers, I, too, had my share of close encounters of the degrading kind.

Like the trabalhadores brasileiros (Brazilian workers), I dreamt of owning a car to end this daily assault. Even a Fusca 1982 (Volkswagen Beetle) with a sickly engine would do. Clammy bodies struggling with adversity squashed my decision to reduce the toxic fumes pumped into our atmosphere.

Life has a way of getting in the way of our best intentions.