misAdventures of Workmonkey 3.0

Sao Paulo, an inland city of eleven million heaving, passionate Brazilians, is the biggest city in South America (and in fact, in the entire Southern Hemisphere) and the second biggest city in all of the Americas (right after Mexico City). This random demographic information is relevant simply because I am presently writing to you from the middle of Sao Paulo. I'm near the Parque do Carmo, a vast circle of dark-green trees, trails and museums which provides the only relief from the endless sea of skyscrapers. The thick line of skyscrapers perch like hungry sharks circling prey, waiting to engulf the only remaining open land in southern Brazil. The city stretches endlessly (the entire metropolitan area includes close to 20 million people), somewhat like Los Angeles, if Los Angeles was entirely built out of the NYC skyline and jungle trees and cool people (actually, out of respect for Sao Paulo, I would like to withdraw the comparison to the shit that is Los Angeles).

I arrived here unexpectedly on Thursday morning, with two day's notice from work. I'd explain exactly why I'm here if I thought you find it interesting, but by the time I reached "Brazilian Yahoo", you'd be bored.The flight is roughly ten hours, and confirms the fact that it is better to fly for ten hours internationally than three hours domestically. International flights go to lengths to make you comfortable. Domestic flights pride themselves on doing every thing they can to ruin your day, such as maximizing out the number of irritable babies they can shove in one plane.

I'd always wanted to go to South America, although perhaps under different circumstances. I've been working twelve hour days, and traveled exclusively between the office and my hotel. Fortunately, I've been able to squeeze in three client dinners in the past days, all of which were unique and delicious. As you might imagine, the seafood in Sao Paulo is intensely fresh and diverse. I've had Amazonian fish, which was thick and white, like Mark Wahlberg, if he was a fish in the Amazon that tasted like butter and cod. I've had giant (as in cat-sized) prawns, squid, fish broth soup, and a number of other items I was unable to identify due to both their odd appearance and Portuguese name. The breads here are also fantastic, including a wonderful invention called Pao De Queijo. which is a bit like the cheesy biscuits at Red Lobster, but lighter. The steaks are monumental: My one steak order included two full steaks, with an endless number of sides. That is the beauty of eating here: Like many European countries, the residents of Sao Paulo enjoy eating full and proper meals. That means that from the moment you sit down, before you actually place an order, a number of tapas-like appetizers are brought out. Calamari in copper bowls, zucchini chips in porcelain cups, grilled vegetables with an olive oil glaze, fresh breads of all kinds. You then order a fresh juice of some sort: pineapple with mint, watermelon, grape. With your meal comes an army of waiters to adorn your plate with sides. You didn't order them, but they are there. If you order a beer, your glass is filled as soon as they detect it is empty. In short, you are treated like an emperor. While it is true this is the expensive business dining culture of Sao Paulo, it is immensely better than service at similar places in New York City.

I've said before that cities are, to some extent, the same, no matter where they are. That doesn't mean physically; it simply means philosophically. They all have tall buildings, lots of people, and cabs, and you mostly eat, drink, and go to museums. It's what makes a city a city, not a town. Whether the buildings are filled with Chinese people or German people, the cabs are Fords or Citroens, and the street food is hot dogs or shwarma, the drink is wine or beer ... The premise is similar. Because of that, it is the small details that define a city. And the details that define Sao Paulo make it great. Most particularly, the people.