Riding down to Rio

Writing this in the humid lobby of a tech firm in Rio de Janeiro. 32 degrees C, hazy sun and a brief exposure to the Carioca lifestyle.

I´m filling in for a colleague who fractured a vertebra on Thursday; Friday I get the call and Sunday I´m on the plane from London to Rio. Fourteen hours later and Autumn has become Spring.

I like Rio. It is one of only four cities, in my opinion, that live up to their billing (the others being San Francisco, Edinburgh and Vienna).

What really impresses me, however, is that almost no-one speaks English. I know it makes life a tad inconvenient for the monoglot english-speaking tourist, and makes taking a taxi somewhat akin to spinning a roulette wheel, but it impresses me nonetheless. For it tells me that Brazil is confident in its own culture and (for what it is worth) its economy; Brazilians are living their lives on their own terms, and not by trying to accommodate the dash to global mediocrity that so characterises (say) eastern Europe or Africa.

Don´t get me wrong. I´m not saying that learning English is, per se, incorrect - I simply mean that countries where the population are desperate to learn English tend to be ones where you can see the national identity evaporate.

Imported fruit does not taste as good as that you grow yourself.

Obrigado.

- Drib