My decision to work overseas may have appeared to be a random one, having endured 4 years of working at a Middle school in Massachusetts, but it was the result of a number of factors, not all promising for a successful move. Forty years ago I was recently divorced and friends with a French teacher at that school who also dreamed of overseas adventures. We both set out on a search for exotic jobs at the same time. One long ago inspiration for me had been a Latin American history class taught by a Cuban emigre at my Catholic women’s college. He was debonair, very well dressed and the most intriguing part of the course for me was the study of Brazil. I was interested in the history of this country that was roughly the size of the US but had a very different history.
After signing up with an agency that staffed international schools, prospective jobs started appearing in my mailbox. I rejected Afghanistan right away, as well as Isfahan, Iran. My friend, Maureen won’t up accepting a job in Tehran, about the time of the revolution, but that’s her story. After coming in second for a job in Dusseldorf, what appeared to be a dream job came up for me, Sao Paulo, Brazil. There were a lot of hoops to jump through to get the job, but after an interview by its director, medical exam, getting references colleagues and being cleared by the Police Dept, followed by months of Brazilian bureaucracy, I was on my way.
The school provided me with two roommates and housing in a three bedroom condo with a doorman.
The air pollution in the city which then numbered 16 million was terrible. The student body consisted of 800 children in grades 1-12 who haled from 40 countries and whose parents intended that they would eventually attend American universities. The job itself was in the school library and my colleague was a very conservative and proper matronly Brazilian woman whose husband had been a big contributor to this ostensibly Catholic school.
I had studied Portuguese with cassette tapes for months before I arrived and fortunately the accent was spot on. Neither of my roommates made an effort to learn the language and being fluent wasn’t really a requirement for the job. I won’t up dealing with the landlady myself when we had problems and was often in a position of understanding nuances to conversations that my roommates missed. What really characterized those two school years in Sao Paulo was how lonely I felt. It was long before the Internet made communication easy and I very much missed my family in the US. I did get to travel in South America with a Dutch and Brazilian friend and even tried psychotherapy in Portuguese with a professional.
This decision introduced to a culture of people who were much more open and emotional than I was at the time. After I left Brazil and decided to stay in the US, abandoning what I thought was going to be a vagabond life abroad, I continued my connection by sponsoring several children through what was then called The Christian Childrens Fund. I got to visit one boy and his family 11 years after I left and saw what real poverty looked like in the countryside. It opened my heart.
I don’t regret the experience of having lived in Sao Paulo for those years. I learned a lot about myself and the country.
— Oxnard15
After signing up with an agency that staffed international schools, prospective jobs started appearing in my mailbox. I rejected Afghanistan right away, as well as Isfahan, Iran. My friend, Maureen won’t up accepting a job in Tehran, about the time of the revolution, but that’s her story. After coming in second for a job in Dusseldorf, what appeared to be a dream job came up for me, Sao Paulo, Brazil. There were a lot of hoops to jump through to get the job, but after an interview by its director, medical exam, getting references colleagues and being cleared by the Police Dept, followed by months of Brazilian bureaucracy, I was on my way.
The school provided me with two roommates and housing in a three bedroom condo with a doorman.
The air pollution in the city which then numbered 16 million was terrible. The student body consisted of 800 children in grades 1-12 who haled from 40 countries and whose parents intended that they would eventually attend American universities. The job itself was in the school library and my colleague was a very conservative and proper matronly Brazilian woman whose husband had been a big contributor to this ostensibly Catholic school.
I had studied Portuguese with cassette tapes for months before I arrived and fortunately the accent was spot on. Neither of my roommates made an effort to learn the language and being fluent wasn’t really a requirement for the job. I won’t up dealing with the landlady myself when we had problems and was often in a position of understanding nuances to conversations that my roommates missed. What really characterized those two school years in Sao Paulo was how lonely I felt. It was long before the Internet made communication easy and I very much missed my family in the US. I did get to travel in South America with a Dutch and Brazilian friend and even tried psychotherapy in Portuguese with a professional.
This decision introduced to a culture of people who were much more open and emotional than I was at the time. After I left Brazil and decided to stay in the US, abandoning what I thought was going to be a vagabond life abroad, I continued my connection by sponsoring several children through what was then called The Christian Childrens Fund. I got to visit one boy and his family 11 years after I left and saw what real poverty looked like in the countryside. It opened my heart.
I don’t regret the experience of having lived in Sao Paulo for those years. I learned a lot about myself and the country.
— Oxnard15
This sounds priceless: "...a culture of people who were much more open and emotional than I was at the time..." (NOTE: I'm trying to comment on everyone's writings this 40-Days go-'round --'Macoff')
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