Sunday Afternoon

It’s Sunday. It’s quiet.

Commerce closes with a noon bell on Saturdays. It used to be law that required all retail to close down from noon Saturday until Monday and only restaurants were allowed to stay open. But now that we are so 1st world and have a shopping mall, I think they changed it. Otherwise the mall would go under. Order and Progress. That’s what the flag says.

But it’s still quiet. There are hardly any cars on the street. And you could walk down the middle of the main avenue and not get hit by a bus.

I love this fully sanctioned lull in the week. Truly lazy weekends. There literally is nothing to do. (Well I suppose we could go to the mall, but we won’t.) Except make churrasco. Which we don’t usually do, being fake vegetarians and all. The smell of it however floats in on the breeze from the coal fired bbq’s of our neighbors.

And watch futebol. Sundays are when all the major games are played. The silence of the long lazy afternoon is broken when someone’s team scores a goal and the primal (male) screams, air horns, bottle rockets, come rolling in like waves from rooftops across the city.


Weather is getting hotter and in the afternoons the clouds gather up and we usually get a good soaking. Lots of things are coming into bloom - less my orchid. The mango tree on our street is totally weighted down with fruit. Maybe I’ll go down there and do some mango rustling.



Did you know that in Portuguese you would never say “eat a mango” ? Mangos are only sucked. The same applies to oranges. You don’t eat oranges. You suck them. Kinda makes sense. Because that is mostly what you have do with your sticky fingers anyways.