But there are a few things that are just too hard to change and some very American things that we really just have to indulge ourselves in from time to time. A few things that come to mind immediately are:
- my inability to wear anything other than my Nikes during the day when I know I am going to have to do a lot of walking around the city (Brasilian women never wear tennis shoes unless they are working out. They are able to walk forever in platform sandals or high heels over the most deplorable terrain. I am forever jealous!)
- Mexican food
- solid deodorant
- mashed potatoes and gravy
- and now, softball
A few weeks ago, Eric was totally fine (and even enjoyed?) attempting to play some soccer without looking completely like someone who had never kicked a soccer ball in his entire life! I had pretty much accepted that grown women here don't usually play much in the way of sports (outside of professional athletes.) But then we discovered the BH softball team and everything changed. We had our third practice with them this weekend, and we are both having so much fun! Eric has always been pretty awesome at baseball/softball, so of course he is having a blast. While I have never been a superstar, by any stretch of the imagination, in any sport (I tend to lean towards highly mediocre at best when it comes to athletics), I love to be outside and playing most anything and am having a great time being included on the team here! We will be traveling with the team to play in a tournament about four hours from here May 31-June 1 which makes practice even more exciting! Despite instructions being called out to me in Portuguese with some Japanese terminology thrown in, I feel so American (in a good way, not in the bad way that I feel so American while walking around wearing jeans and Nikes with my curly blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail) out there on the soccer field with my softball glove!
The first day we arrived, Eric was pretty excited at the prospect of playing softball and then got even more enthusiastic when we walked onto the sad, little, barely-maintained soccer field, "This is just like The Sandlot!" Here, take a look for yourself!
The Sandlot, indeed! There is even a dog that lives at this little residence beside the field, and, when we accidentally hit a ball over the fence, he barks his head off!
So, not only are we playing America's favorite past time, we are also acting out one of the best movies from our childhood! It's probably a good thing that we don't host other teams here . . . as I might be inclined to call someone an idiot, moron, scab eater, fart smeller, or maybe accuse them of playing ball like a girl! Oh, wait . . . scratch that last one . . . it's not quite right coming from me, is it? But I could still call the other team buffalo-butt breath or tell them that they mix their Wheaties with their mama's toe jam. Hehehehe I do love that movie! (But before you give me too much credit for my fabulous memory, I'll admit that I did have to get on You Tube and watch that scene again. I didn't actually remember all the cut-downs they tossed back and forth.)