BRAZIL - HERE I COME!
Donald stepped into the Boeing 787 Dreamliner. The welcome space was lavishly spacious and unusually tall for an airplane. Getting squeezed out of the compressed terminal walkway was freeing. The feeling of starting out on a great summer vacation to Brazil really sunk into his mind. The stewardess in the blue suit and the pearl earrings smiled.
With the next shuffle step, he was right back into the squeeze of passengers backing up in front and passengers inching forward. The packed space made it a close family experience. Donald felt like his nose poked his parents and his sister Leslie in front of him. Their bodies took up extra space with the coats over one arm and the large carry on pushed like a shield in the other. There was way too much clothing, hair, and knickknacks in his face. Magazines, bottles, iPods, glasses were shuffled form one hand to the next, into and out of bags, and onto trays.
The mood lighting that cycled through the artificial colors of the airline's logo anchored the whole mess in. Getting into the seat didn't improve things. Leslie claimed the armrest first with her elbow. Victorious smiles escaped her placed face. She arranged the celebrity magazine and iPod with the arm belonging to the other elbow.
He grumpily looked at the window three seats away. The oversized windows with the dimming glass were supposed to be the highlight of the new Boeing 787 Dreamliner. Yep, the window was a tiny speck hidden behind bodies and seats. His mind wandered to imagine what he would tell his class on the first day after school about his first trip to Brazil. Nope, there wouldn't be any class anymore. He had graduated high school a month ago.
He was a young man poised to study math, because he always got A's in math without studying. His pants were gray Ted Baker slacks with a cut that accentuated his slender tall body. Last moment in the morning, he had decided that pink would be a bit dashing and unconventional to wear for a shirt on the travel day. His hair was long and wavy. His face was tall and highlighted by dark eye brows and dark shadows. Yet, his baby blue eyes gleamed with a sparkle, when the light shown right.
His sister next to him was leaning over the tray to flip through her magazine. Her mouth made oh's of exasperation every now and then. The lip stick was pink and the most boring and conservative hue in her whole class. One of her feet was resting up on the seat, so that she could put her upper arm on the knee tip. The hand held her forehead and hair bag. The hair was too puffy and of a seriously annoying natural blond. The first thing that he would do with her hair would be to thin it and color it with a blond from an upscale hair salon.
Though, that was not his decision. He would also burn her wardrobe. The pants and sweatshirt made his sister look big and clumsy, rather then take advantage of her height to make her a tall model like being. The pants were one big cut that did not provide highlights or re-shape her hips in anything that called out sexy. There she went again making facial expressions to herself that demanded a response from everyone else.
"What is your favorite part about Brazil," said Donald trying to make friendly conversation.
"Oh, I can't wait to meet the Latin lovers. All the gentlemen will open the door for me. And, they will gently hold my hand, while they take a bow. Their eyes will have such deep passion, when they see me walking down the street."
"Snap out of it, Leslie. With all those hot Latinas in thong bikinis, they won't even notice you in your grand mother clothes. You did bring at least swimwear, did you? This is Brazil with beaches and parties!"
"Uh, you are so rude again."
She rolled up her magazine and hit him on the thigh. Her face looked tense. He threw his arms up to rest them behind his neck. His sister had returned from her freshman year in college. And, she hadn't grown any easier, worldly, or sophisticated. Then, she walked off to look for the seats, where their parents were seated. His elbow claimed the arm rest.
The rest of the travel went back into a blur. Mind numbing waiting in the airline chair made him want to stand on his head. However, the head space was not near enough to actually attempt such a thing. There was the physical relief of walking to the bathroom every two hours. That also brought the mental relief of scanning the passenger for the one or two cute girls in the crowd of middle aged people.
The São Paulo-Guarulhos airport was like most airports. Multilingual signs for baggage claim and taxi. A mix of people from all countries dressed in fine clothes. There was the conspicuous absence of really poor and rich people. The palm trees and fluffy air flow suggested a warm country. The people lacked what the Brazilian fantasy had promised. They were mostly dressed conservatively in single colored pants and shirts. The exuberantly sexy and shiny people were the minority to be gleaned in the steadily moving crowd.
The taxi was full of foreign signs. Yet, otherwise the taxi delivered the family to the hotel without infamous cussing, speeding, or throngs of impoverished kids running behind the car. The hotel had plenty of the same fake gold ornaments and soiled carpet as the hotels in America. Like with all hotels, he loved the clean, smooth bed sheets and the meticulously cleaned bathroom. The clean bathroom made him want to roll around in it. Obviously, his own bathroom at home had an unspoken and denied cleaning problem.
He looked over at his sister. Her hands were busily messing with her suit case and the closet. Her feet shuffled in house slippers. He looked at his own bare feet, the shirt tossed over a chair, and the undershirt that he was wearing.
"Sis, we are only in Sao Paolo for one day. There is no sense in unpacking. You will only have to pack again. And, guess who gets to sit on your suit case to make everything fit?"
"First, having everything neatly in the closet makes me feel at home. Second, you will be the one that walks around in wrinkled clothes. And, all the girls will turn their noses up, because Latin men know how to take care of their gentleman wardrobe."
"Whatever you say, sis."
The cool part about family vacations is that they are free. An international trip like this would have taken him many pizza deliveries. The bad part about family vacations is that, even they were both over eighteen, they still got to share the same room. Their parents were partially in denial about their kids growing up and partially reluctant to spend double the money on the kids. With all the college expenses, neither of the kids dared to challenge the wisdom.
Leslie went to the bathroom. She reappeared in knee length draw string pajamas. The fabric was stiff, tube-like with a faded pink. The pajama top had lace decoration in the front. Half circles of white lace tried to make the pajama look special, yet only managed to remind of a bored worker yelling at his boss "here are your damn boring laces. Let me have fun designing clothes for once."
Donald simply tossed the pants over the chair as well and slipped under the sheets in his underwear. They turned the lights off. He closed his eyes. The images of the travel flashed in front of his eyes. His mind remembered the look of the airport and acknowledged that he was present in Brazil. Sometimes, the body travels faster than the mind. And, the mind has to consciously catch up.
His mind remembered the blond cheerleader type girl in the airport security screening line. She had worn a pink and white checkered mini skirt with a black belt. Her attitude was so perky. She placed her items on the conveyor into the x-ray machine with a bounce. Her arms moved fluid and were unafraid to raise high to draw attention. The hair was freshly colored near platinum blond. Two pig tails pulled the hair to each side. The hair formed straight and smooth lines. Her full lips were chewing on bubble gum.
"You are ruining my pedicure," had she said with a flirtatious smile to the security officer, when she slipped of her high heels. The high heels were cork wedges that were only held by her toes like flip flops. Her skirt had ruffled, when she had bent over to pick up her shoes. The security guard had smiled and looked, while remaining motionless to feel safe.
