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Brazilians are too damn...
How to "stereotype" 200+ million people in a single story
It ‘twas but my first trip to the most beautiful city in the world:
Rio de Janeiro 🇧🇷
The marvelous city — a fitting name if there ever was one.
I hopped off the plane and instantly smelled the “amor” in the air. Beaches filled with bunda racing through my mind. Thoughts of“Favela bunnies” worshipping my every move.
I had told my Airbnb host about my arrival time in advance. He said he’d be waiting for me. So upon hopping in the taxi at the airport, I was not expecting any issues.
Dusk was approaching and the taxi promptly stopped in front of my apartment near Arpoador.
There was no doorman. Just a large, locked gate and the front door of the building.
I had texted my Airbnb host once I got in the taxi.
I texted him again as I began getting my luggage out of the trunk.
I called him as I stood outside with my luggage. Clinging to all my worldly possessions as hundreds of people walked by.
Five minutes pass by and I call again.
He doesn’t pick up.
It’s getting dark now. I don’t speak much Portuguese. I’m in a city I’ve never been before. Standing on the street with all my belongings.
A city well-known for street crime and petty theft — especially in the early evenings, when the favela teens come down from the hills to harass tourists on vacation.
Five more minutes pass by.
I call again and again.
Multiple text messages.
I’m a few minutes from calling an Uber and finding a hotel. Getting robbed for all my worldly possessions was not in the plans for my first Rio de Janeiro trip.
Or ‘twas the goal at least…
To you know, uhhhh, not get robbed for everything I owned — upon landing in the city.
At least give me a few days.
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I send one last text.
My phone lights up. Finally. The Airbnb host is calling.
“Hey Jake, tudo bem? I’m coming down right now. One second.”
He hangs up before I can get a word in.
Dude kinda sounded out of breath, but whatever — at least he’s about to let me into the damn apartment.
The dude shows up at the front gate. He’s a jacked, Italian looking Brazilian with decent English. He’s also sweating profusely for some reason.
He was a really friendly guy and I was furious at this point, but fuck — how can you be mad at friendly Brazilians?
They’re so nice. They just keep talking and smiling, and talking and smiling.
So I let it slide and we walk up a few flights of stairs to the apartment.
We make it to the door of the apartment and he unlocks it…
The apartment smelled like…
Honestly, not sure how else to describe it. This apartment smelled like pure Brazilian sex — which instantly hit my nose as I took my luggage inside.
Upon which I turn to my left to see a mid-40s woman sitting on the couch…
What is going on here?!
The host notices that I noticed exactly what was going on.
He starts talking a mile a minute:
“You’re muscular. Do you do jiu jitsu? No?! You should!”
“I own a BJJ gym here, you can come train with me for free!”
“Oh, and this is my wife…she was, ummmm, helping me clean the apartment before your arrival.”
“Let me open this window. The apartment gets a nice breeze during the nighttime.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or leave.
The host quickly grabs his wife by the arm and drags her outside…
“Let me know if you need anything!”
Ummmm, like some fresh sheets and a clean bed?!
See what had happened was…
The Brazilian BJJ coach/Airbnb host and his wife decided they were going to knock one out before I arrived.
So the whole time I was waiting outside on the street, with all of my worldly possessions in tow, the host was smashing his wife.
In the bed of the apartment I had rented for the next month.
On the sheets I was supposed to sleep on that night.
Bem-vindo ao Brasil!
Which is why the apartment reeked of sex when I walked in and his wife wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
It gets better…
So I’m doing my thing in Rio over the next week or so.
Trying to go on as many Tinder dates as humanly possible, using Spanish instead of Portuguese.
Hitting the “Flintstones” gym every morning. Swimming in the ocean every afternoon. Hiking, seeing the sights, the “whole nine” so to speak.
Coisas do Brasil
Then the Airbnb host texts me…
“Jake, tudo bem? How is everything? Are you enjoying the apartment? Rio?”
We start chatting, he starts asking me about what I’m doing, if I’ve met any girls, etc.
Me: “Yeah, met a few, broski. Really loving the girls here. So feminine.”
“Kkkkkk you want to go to swing club with me and my wife and some girls from the jiu jitsu gym? My wife told them about you and they want to go with you.”
He starts sending me half-naked photos of all the girls he’s going to the swing club with this weekend.
I wait to reply. I have to think about this one. My Brazilian friend from Sao Paulo always raves about Brazilian swing clubs.
Me: “Hell yeah!”
“We go on Saturday night. I will send you the details on the weekend.”
What in the living hell is going on?!
I’m borderline disgusted, but also not going to pass up an opportunity to go to a Brazilian swing club with my now best friend, the Brazilian BJJ coach and Airbnb host extraordinaire.
Which is where we will cut the story off on this here newsletter, ser ;)
Brazilians are too damn…
If you haven’t figured it out yet, let me break it down:
Brazil is an amazing country.
Best beach cities in the world.
Incredibly friendly people.
World-class nature around every corner.
Modern and livable in many areas.
Incredible place to train BJJ and/or MMA.
Very good looking girls.
Sharp, educated populace — in the south.
There’s only one issue with Brazil…
An issue that makes it hard to live in the country full-time for certain types of intrepid travelers who actually care about building online businesses.