How I got to and back from CELPE-Bras: a mini-Adventure. Last post, I mentioned a bit about the CELPE-Bras test I took. Getting the paperwork sorted and getting to and from the test were not entirely straightforward processes. I couldn't do the test in Natal - the nearest federal university was in Paraiba, in the next state, in Joao Pessoa. Being a 3 hour drive away, I had to take a day off work drive down the night before, stay with Rach's family so I could be on campus for the insanely early start of 7.30 am.

The drive down took a long time. I had my Portuguese CDs blaring out dialogues through the stereo and when we stopped for half an hour because of road works I could even get my grammar book out and revise the 2nd and 3rd conditionals while we waited. At one point a whole village had come out to oggle us in our cars while we waited - I couldn't even see a reason for the stoppage: my best guess was that a tree had fallen across the tarmac. They are widening the road between Natal and Joao Pessoa but it seems to be a case of things getting worse before the get better for now, with traffic being fed through one lane at points on the route (Things I miss about England #97: motorways). We're into Natal's rainy season now (or winter as they call it) and so visibility was quite low in places slowing the traffic down further. I enjoy the drive though, not least because for stretches of it you feel like you're driving through the middle of nowhere (Things I love about Brazil #97: The Outback) and, even though the ride might not be as picturesque as the TILAB #40, it gave me plenty of chance to exercise the TILAB #'s 51 and 52.

Although they don't have Welcome Break service stations here (Things I miss about England #96: road-side services) they do have grilled corn for sale by the side of the road (Things I love about Brazil #12: grilled corn on the cob sold by the side of the road). As it was coming towards evening the enterprising lady with her corn sold me three cobs for 2R so I could clear out her box. A sure bargain although it was quite hard to work my way through 3 corn on the cobs. My jaw muscles ached the next day too - those husks were husky.

I stayed the night with Tia Claudia, Rachel's aunt on her farm with her family and horses, dogs, fish and othr critters. I love being out there - it's so peaceful and quite a contrast to the beach-centric side of Brazilian life. Having said that, the wet weather caused a surge of mozzies (Things I love about England #13: not so many mozzies) which had me slapping my ankles every 5 seconds as I tried to cram for the test. Also, I panicked at one stage as I realised I had forgotten to bring any tea with me. I'm partial to a cuppa and while in Brazil often have a longing for TIMAE #'s 8 with 16. Despite a couple of years of being cold turkey on tea, Rach and I are now back on the habit and if we don't get our early morning fix of PG tips it can leave us with some nasty migraines by lunchtime (Things I miss about England #15: readily available tea). I was not looking forward to having splitting headaches through my written paper so, mercifully, Tia Claudia found a box of Twining's Blackcurrent tea which made a nice brew and seemed to have done the trick.

Early the next morning Elyn (Rach's cousin) drove me onto the University Campus. I arrived before 7am to see sleepy students and professors overloaded with folders trudging in. The early start to the day suits me though and the sunshine at the time of the morning is glorious (Things I love about (the north east of) Brazil #55: All-year morning sunshine). I enjoyed being back on campus. I felt a strange longing for Heslington and the university of York. Perhaps there is some sort of essence of campus which doesn't change across the world: the pro-marijana posters, the students sitting around picnic tables, grafitti in the toilets, pokey offices belonging to eccentric lecturers whose doors are plastered with flyers for this and that conference, the prevalance of cats... Wait a minute? Cats. This was definitely a novelty for me. Whereas we had ducks in York, Paraiba university has loads of cats around the place. I guess they keep the vermin down. Anyway, I like cats and I appreciated them being there - it gave the whole campus a very homely feel (Things I love about Brazil #94: cats on campus).

After my written paper it was lunch time so I went for a walk to find a supermarket to get some lunch. By the time I got there and back I had probably only been walking for half an hour but I was as hot as a pig on a spit. Now, I'm a fan of the hot weather hear as much as the next man but in the middle of the day it can get unbareable (Things I miss about England #81: not needing 3 cold showers a day to stay fresh). So, a rather sticky me took the oral test in the afternoon, then I drove off to find Rach's family. Rach had driven down with the kids so they could see their cousins Mel and Johnny in JP. She came with her folks in another car and again I found myself thinking how great it was that child safety laws were slightly less stringent than in the UK (Things I love about Brazil #83: kids don't have to use car seats up to the age of 11!) so that they could all fit in one vehicle with the kids sitting on laps. I'm all for child safety, don't get me wrong, but I think the UK laws need to be rolled back a bit in favour of letting parents take their own common sense decisions on this (hear, hear!).

We all met up for a great meal at Mangai, our favourite restaurant for regional food and then piled back to Rachel's Uncle's house for the night. Unfortunately, there were several city-wide power cuts which made for an interesting drive home (no traffic lights working) and a pretty broken night as we tried to keep the kids cool without air conditioner (Things I miss about England #25: less power cuts). The next day we visited several of Rach's relatives and made our way back together. But, all in all, the whole couple of days were excellent and worth doing - mainly because, when all's been said and done, I've really enjoyed learning the language of my wife and her family (Things I love about Brazil #7: Portuguese).

CELPE-Bras. This time last week I was in the middle of a gruelling 3-hour writing paper for the government Portuguese exam, CELPE-Bras. I decided to take the test to give myself something to work towards to improve my Portuguese before we left. With a reasonable result, I hope my certificate might also provide something to stick on the ol` CV. The test itself was OK - I had prepared for it fairly well, utilising all the techniques and strategies I've been trying to teach my own students taking English exams. I had memorised idioms, set phrases, useful collocations, linking devices and I frequently used strategies in my oral test to buy time and stall if I didn't know how to express my answers.

Generally, I think the writing went OK. The oral test was hard as I was being interviewed by someone I'd never met before I wasn't used to their voice. The hardest section of all was the listening - a woman was talking about a restaurant. After the test, I heard two other candidates talking about the listening part - "Did you manage to get the address for the restaurant?". "Not all of it", came the reply. Meanwhile, I was in the background with eyebrows raised thinking "what address?!!!".

Twenty or so of us took the test in Joao Pessoa. I was the only Brit/American. Several other Latin Americans were there (not fair, I thought, as Spanish is so similar to Portuguese). Some candidates were definitely European - French, Spanish and I think. With test centres all around Brazil and the world, the CELPE-Bras seems to becoming increasingly well-known and sought after. Before my oral test I chatted to one of the helpers for the test - a university student studying literature. My conversation with her went a lot better than my oral test, I felt, and she had a lot to say about university life in Brazil. She explained that for many people the CELPE-Bras is their ticket to a new life in Brazil. Some companies, professions and many university research or teaching positions will require the certificate if you are to make a living here (similar, to be fair, to all the university-entry English tests I prepare students for back in the UK). In actual fact, she was teaching 8 Congolese refugees (who did not know French - so for them, Portuguese would be a whole more alien than it was for me!) who were going to win VISAs if they passed the exam. I felt humbled - my reasons for taking the test were rather low-key in comparison. For others the stakes were much higher.

One final note - a further question to the student from Joao Pessoa. Whenever I meet anyone who isn't studying to be a lawyer, doctor, engineer, nutritionist or computer scientist at university I always have to ask them how they're managing. This is because I've come to realise that many parents and families exert pressure on their kids to do courses that lead to certain traditional, high-earning careers which often comes at the expense of art, music, history, literature or philosophy. So, when I asked the young lady studying literature how her parents reacted to her course choice, she gave me a weary sigh as if this was a topic that frequently came up. "All I say to people is that the biggest and best thinkers - the people who changed society - came from studying the arts and humanities. That's what I'm aiming for". As someone who spent an inordinate amount of time in the York university library hunched over tomes on the Politics and History floors, I couldn't agree more!

AN A-Z OF ADVENTURES WITH MUM AND DAD

L is for Language. With Mum and Dad here, I took the opportunity to "show off" my grasp of Portuguese when Rachel wasn't around by ordering food at restaurants, making enquiries in shops and asking for directions. Most of the time things went smoothly but I still found myself in occasional situations where, as a gringo speaking Portuguese, the assumption from the receiving end was that I could speak no Portuguese at all. In Joao Pessoa on one occasion, I found myself jamming my finger into a menu at the item in question (which was "Apfelstrudel") which clearly so flummoxed one rather pale-looking waitor, that he ran off. Ten minutes later back came a colleague of his who nervously said in very broken English "I help you?". Its funny how something like this can make one frustrated when one has poured out a lot of time and energy into learning a new language. WE DON'T NEED THE WAITOR WHO SPEAKS A BIT OF ENGLISH - WE JUST NEED THE ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS PORTUGUESE!

Another time, we pulled over to ask for directions. All I had to ask was "Sir, do you know where Marco Zero is?". So this is what I said to the security guard by a builing: "O senhor sabe onde fica Marco Zero?". A blank stare in reply. "Como?"came the tentative reply.

At this point, Rachel reached across the seat and spoke through my window. She said: "O senhor sabe onde fica Marco Zero?". The man smiled, relieved. He then helpfully gave us directions. Now, maybe this has more to do with the Brazilian man wanting to help out a beautiful lady, but in language terms WHAT DID I DO WRONG?

Fortunately, this kind of thing doesn't happen too often. Dad, bless him, actually worked quite hard at picking up some Portuguese (to add to the half a dozen languages he already knows) mainly so he could communicate a bit with Nelson. But, one afternoon we came across a (for these purposes, unnamed) employee of the Cultura Inglesa language school who Dad intended to wish a Happy New Year too. This was the conversation:

Dad (trying his Portuguese): Feliz ano novo!
Mr.X (in Portuguese to me): I don't speak English.
Me (in Portuguese to Mr.X): He said "Feliz ano novo!"
Mr.X (in Portuguese to me): Feliz ano novo? Wow! English is easy. That's exactly the same as it is in Portuguese...

The strange people we left behind: part 1. Moving to a new apartment block was definitely for the best, but I'm sure we'll be sorry to see the back of our neighbourhood as it certainly had some colourful characters in it. In particular, we will probably miss the employees of Palader Satanejer. PS is a small delhi which sells authentic Natalense meat, cheese, cakes, bread, alcohol, beans, nuts and sweets and a lot else besides. It's extremely well-run and is worth a visit just for the colours, flavours and smells. Nelson is always is in awe of the various things hanging from the ceiling - a stuffed cow's head, a bottled crab, a side of dried beef, a large bunch of some unknown fruit...

Anyway, the other day I paid them a visit and under the premise that as we had moved I wanted photos of the shop that I missed, I waltzed in with my new camera and after asking permission started snapping away. What I REALLY wanted a picture of, though, was the framed headshots of some of the employees that were propped up on the counter. The reason being, one of them is named Keith. Not so unusual, I hear you say. But, wait for it, SHE'S A LADY!!!!! Let me repeat that again. In the shop near to where we lived is a WOMAN NAMED KEITH!!!!! How funny is that? So, I was delighted I managed to get photographic evidence of a picture of the bizarrely-named female in question.

My father-in-law thinks that probably she is called Keith becuase her parents wanted to call her Katie but misspelt it - or rather, spelt it phonetically as you would say it in Portuguese. When presented with the written word KEITH a Brazilian would probably pronounce the name as KATIE.

Dad is 60, not out. Well done Dad on another milestone.

Danny is 28, not out. And congrats to my ol pal Danny "My Son" Byrne on becoming 28 yesterday. As it would happen the Byrnes sent us not one, not three, but TWO huge parcels from the UK which arrived yesterday too. So, now Nelson has a bowling game, I have a CD and curry and Rach has some cosmetics... we're very grateful indeed. In fact, seeing as I forgot it was Danny's birthday yesterday, I feel doubley indebted to our good friends from York. Voçes estão demais!

Manchester Barlows. We're entering a time of hosting wonderful people visiting us in Natal. Steve's cousin Paul and his family are across from Manchester for their first visit to Brazil. So, it was off to the beach today and they braved the infamous dune buggy rides. So far they all seem happy enough and not too sunburnt. Although, they did have a lot to say about the "style" of Brazilian driving.

Language ups and downs. As I've said before on here, I'm excited because (finally) my Portuguese is reaching levels of some fluency where I can communicate fairly freely. I took an online Portuguese proficiency test and was labelled as Advanced Intermediate level. But, seeing as that was only reading and grammar and not listening or speaking or writing it's a debatable grading.

Nevertheless, the language is on the up. What I've found, though, is a strange thing. Linguists probably have a name for this, but in familiar topic areas where I can speak without having to think too much I have become quite lazy with my Portuguese opting for the easiest and sometimes semi-accurate route to communicating. Steve says that his Dad arrived in Brazil, reached that level and stayed with it for 50 years. I'll try not to let that happen, but let me give you an example of a small slip-up that I made this week, which I shouldn't have made if I was trying a bit harder. We had some guests over for lunch but didn't have enough knives (long story) to set all the places so I suggested to Ana, the lady who helps in the house, that we use spoons. I kept saying to her "Pode usar coelho. Simplesmente, pode botar coelho". She returned a puzzled look. After a while she held up a spoon and said, "colher?". It was then that it dawned on me that I had said "coelho" when I had meant to say "colher". Instead of suggesting she put out spoons in place of knives, I was asking her to lay out rabbits on the table. Most peculiar and a timely lesson to me to keep thinking about what I'm saying in somebody else's language.

John Stauffacher. My mother's brother, an elderly and frail man in his 70s, passed away last night after a battle with cancer. So, lots of prayers going up for that side of the family. We feel blessed to have known this wonderful Christian man who served in France as a missionary with his wife for his entire adult life. Last summer we had the chance to visit France and introduce Nelson to his great Uncle - that encounter seems especially poignant now.

Looking down the barrel of a busy week. After a great weekend away in Pipa, Rach and I are back to get stuck into a busy period that doesn't look set to let up until sometime in August. Of course, the big thing is the arrival of baby number 2 in probably less than 1 month. Also, Rach is in the thick of organising a huge conference for all the Directors of all the Cultura Inglesa language schools which will be held here in Natal. Next week is test week for students so I have to write a few tests and give a few tests... More about our weekend away in the next post.

Some further notes from the open diary of how to (and how not to) speak the Portuguese language. Teaching English has helped me learn Portuguese in immeasurable ways. Apart from increasing my knowledge of grammar and how languages are structured and function, teaching English has also given me many ideas on best practice for learning a new language, tips on how to keep going and it has also given me an indication of my level of Portuguese and what I should be concentrating on at that level. For example, if I speak English to a student and find that their English is below my Portuguese (i.e. I know the words they can't find) then I know I'm above them and likewise below others. All in all, I think I am at least Intermediate level Portuguese with probably some aspects higher and others lower on account of not learning in a structured way from a course or book.

One of the chief advantages of teaching English to the people whom you are trying to learn a language from is that their mistakes highlight the make-up of their own language. Let me put that more simply. As Brazilians repeatedly make the same errors in English it teaches me how their langugage works and how they are thinking. Here are some examples:

1) Countable and uncountable nouns. Strange as it may seem, in Portuguese it is possible to count the words research, information, equipment and music. Try putting a number before those words and an "s" on the end in English and it will sound very strange. For all of the above we have to put "a piece of" before the noun to desribe one part of it. Brazilians (sometimes with very high levels) are always getting this wrong saying "I listened to some good musics on my ipod" or "I did three researches for my course" or whatever. Indirectly, I have learned that these are countable in their language and I try not to make the same mistake in reverse.

2) Verbs with similar but not identical meanings. There are countless examples of this, but I'll leave you with just two. In English, we use the verb "miss" in all kinds of strange ways (miss a goal/ miss a bus/ I miss you) and Brazilians don't really have that verb so they tend to use "lose" because in their language they would use the equivelent verb "perder" for some of these things. Consequently, they translate their Portuguese into English and say things like "I lost the taxi" and "Ronaldo lost the goal" which sound very strange in English and have completely different meanings. Either way, as I chuckle away at my students making mistakes I gain some new insight into the workings of Portuguese. Another example is that in England we use the verb to rob to refer to taking something from a person or organisation and the verb to steal to refer to the object being taken. Portuguese makes no such distinction and has just one verb "roubar" which sounds like the first of the English verbs. Students forget which is which and often say things like "The man robbed the car" or "The gang stole the bank" each with slightly different meanings. Again, it's a window into Portuguese for me...

All this is leading up to my final point: wouldn't English be a whole lot easier if it was just a bit more regular, standardised, streamlined and logical? It would certainly make my life easier and my students lives easier too. With this in mind I have written a proposal to alter the English language in 10 small ways to make it easier to teach and learn. I hope you like my ideas. You can read them here.

What does Gotham's caped crusader drink? Why, Batmilk of course. At the supermarket last week and came across this delightful prospect - yoghurt either made from the milk of bats or perhaps yoghurt distributed (or enjoyed by) that famous superhero of the night, Batman. I can confirm the yoghurt does taste nice and Nelson is hooked.

The real explanation? This is yoghurt as made by Batavo, a Brazilian dairy brand. However, it is another funny example of how English words (in this case "milk") are cut and pasted into Brazilian culture*, marketing or advertising most likely (according to my students) because it lends products an air of sophistication since it mimics imported European and American goods. In this case, I just think the whole scheme horribly backfired.

* driving back from dropping off Nelson this morning I spotted posters for a reggae event called "Rastafeeling".

Orphanage. On Friday we managed to squeeze in a quick visit to the orphanage to leave some supplies. All the kids were having a nap so we didn't stay too long to play. But, we were pleased as it seems other people are taking an interest in this little project and they had a water cooler and some new kitchen equipment too.

Sunday. We've been seeing pictures of 3-inch snow back in the UK. On Sunday here we went snorkelling in warm weather during the best low tide of the year so far. Rachel's parents were around and it made for a great day out. Here are some pictures that document the whole day including some snaps from our little church group which meets on Sunday afternoons.

R.E.M. quiz answers. Thank you to all NONE of you who entered my mini competition to get the names of R.E.M. songs from snippets of lyrics I used in a recent post. Er, it was quite hard and save for my cousin's husband Rob Miles who appreciates R.E.M. to approximately the same degree as I do, I wouldn't expect too many of the uninitiated to get the answers without using an internet search engine - so, never mind. For all NONE of you that care the answers were:

Let's talk about the weather - the song Stand from the album Green.
Baby's got some new rules - the song Me in Honey from the album Out of Time
When you greet a stranger - the song Good Advices from the album Fables of the Reconstruction
The music will provide the light, you cannot resist - the song I'm Gonna DJ from the latest album Accelerate.

Culture Shock Treatment. I've been feeling a bit down lately and not really known why. I'm no longer that interested in the novelty of being in Natal - instead of wanting to listen to Brazilian music, eat Brazilian food or read Brazilian news, I've found myself increasingly anxious to get hold of the English versions of all of the above. I keep thinking about getting back to the UK even though we've been here over a year and we will still be here over a year. One or two small things haven't gone my way which got me a bit down and, despite a great life here, I've sometimes pined for the smoggy, cold, hectic life of London or York. What's going on?

Even though I pride myelf on being a bit of an international boy, in truth I haven't lived for longer than 6 months in a row outside the UK since I was 8. Nonetheless, I do come from sturdy missionary stock. How did my great grandfather, my grandfather, my parents survive months in the bush with no contact with the outside world? I have quite a few things going my way - I am surrounded by colleagues and family who speak English, we have a nice place to live in a quiet neighbourhood and I am well connected with folks back home. Surely, I can do better than this?

Actually, I sometimes think that my being connected to life in the UK through the internet, friends visiting, phone calls or post is sometimes responsible for increasing my sense of wanting to be back home. Whatever it is, I chatted about it with Rach and realised something I hadn't even thought of: I'm suffering from culture shock. A bit late granted, and probably fairly mild, but it seems to be culture shock.

I saw it in dozens of international students - usually when they were half way through their stay in York (I've been here ages and I have ages to go!), often when they had had a few knocks and when the novelty of life in York had worn out and the lure of Mum's homemade Chinese dumplings was irresistable. Culture Shock is defined in various ways but this interpretation on wikipedia suggests I have passed through the honeymoon period and am now in phase 2 - the negotiation period.

As soon as I recognised I had culture shock I felt a lot better. Now I realise it's something to get through I've been listening to Brazilian radio, eating my beans and speaking my Portuguese with extra gusto.

A truly awesome day. Actually, thanks be to God, I had a really smashing day on Wednesday which has convinced me life in Brazil is managable and actually quite enjoyable. In the morning I had an English class with some of Natal's pastors. It's my most rewarding group as I really endorse their motives for learning and I am impressed with their commitment. We had a great time, we prayed together. They are learning the irregular past verbs in English (*see language note below). Pastor Gerson, a larger than life evangelist/preacher character not wholly unlike Roger Simpson, gets frustrated at his inability to communicate in English and often bursts out with anecdotes or jokes in Portuguese. After one of his stories, in which he recounted a recent trip to Spain, I said that there was nothing in his story he couldn't say in English. So, I stopped my lesson plan, and we worked through his little tale turning all the verbs into past ones. He seemed surprised and thrilled by the end to actually have aquired enough basic English to tell a story. At the end of the hour I spoke with them at length in Portuguese and realised that in comfortable vocabulary areas my Portuguese was close to fluent. They seemed to take this as an encouragement - if their teacher could learn enough Portuguese to get by, then one day they would get English.

At lunch I spoke to my folks on Skype. They are on holiday in the States and speaking to them is always a highlight of the day. After lunch Rachel took Nelson to his first swimming lesson and he loved it. I went across town to teach English to a group of Intermediate level teenagers who have been giving my gyp lately. The classroom we usually use - a big narrow, echoey room with a loud air conditioner - never helped matters, but the air con wasn't working and we were moved to another, smaller room. This changed the dynamic considerably and the rascals more or less fell into line and with a couple of running around games for the kinesthetic learners we were away, English was learned and we had a great time.

But, probably THE highlight of the day came five minutes after the end of the lesson. The language school driver had to take me and two others back across town to the other Cultura Unit. The driver is a certain Sr. Ricardo, an earnest and well-meaning man whose baffling Portuguese (**see below) sometimes confuses Brazilians yet alone gringos like me. He has a natural lust for life which he applies to everything he does including using the car accelerator. Anyway, as I sat in the vehicle and he pulled away, the car sound system was blaring out a jolly tune and Sr. Ricardo informed me that it was him singing on it. Unbeknownst to me Sr. Ricardo is quite the singer/songwriter in his spare time. He composes Christian worship music and he has a pretty good voice. His recordings are lively but, because of costs, most of the instrumentation has been recorded on a synthesizer. As we made the 20 minute journey across town, Sr. Ricardo, eyes popping out of his head in excitement, regailed with me with the story behind every tune and then proceeded to turn the volume way up - both in his singing and on the CD player. He suggested I teach him English so he can write Englsh songs and tour the UK. I honestly think he should! His enthuisasm would win over millions. At one point he introduced a song his wife had written and proceeded to turn on the in-car light to show me that the hairs on his arm were standing on end. I think mine were too. When we stopped at traffic lights, his hands came off the wheel and involuntarily started waving and swaying to the music. His God-given passion for praise was totally infectious and I stepped out of the car at the end of the ride with a huge grin on my face and the sense that I hadn't heard any music so refreshing and uplifting in a long time. It was food for my soul and I walked to my next class buzzing and vowing to get me a copy of Sr. Ricardo's album to a) help me learn Portuguese and b) help me get up in the morning. Bless that man!

* Irregular Schmirregular. If, like me, you learned your English by osmosis, you may never have stopped to think about our often bizarre grammar and conjugation rules. The past tense in English is soooooo much easier than Portuguese when all you have to do is add -ed to verbs such as play, want and walk. But, the irregular ones are pretty irregular as my pastors have been findng out. If bought is the past of buy, why not trought for the past of try? Or, if fought is the past of fight, why not lought for the past of light? Or, if taught is the past of teach, why is brought the past of bring and not breach? Or if eat is ate, why can't I say that yesterday I bate you at tennis but you losed at chess because I chate? Or, if sat is the past of sit, then couldn't fat be the past of fit? As in, she fat in the small space, and so on...

**A footnote in the open diary of how to (and how not to) get by in the Portuguese language. Apart from Sr.Ricardo there is another Brazilian whose Portuguese I find even more baffling. He also works at the language school. He is the janitor, a Sr.Joachim. When he speaks, he reminds me of the Octopus from Pocoyo. You need a black belt in Portuguese to understand him. The day I get his every word will be the day I see some winged pork chops flutter past the window.

This may be longest ever post. If you've got this far you're a saint and I salute your stamina...

A supplementary entry in the open diary of how to (and how not to) get by in the Portuguese language. Adverts are a great way to help with Portuguese learning. From the radio, to the TV, to billboards and magazine spreads, adverts are a helpful linguistic tool mainly because 1) they often involve smart/funny/repetitive language to draw your attention and 2) you know what they are trying to communicate already - namely: this product is good, please buy it.

Two adverts that I have seen recently have caught my attention and caused me to think about the Portuguese language. The first (above) is for a cell phone company. The slogan sinal de qualidade has a double meaning in Portuguese that is lost in a direct translation to English. This is because "sinal" is a very broad word roughly correlating to "signal" or "sign" in English but covering everything from traffic lights, road markings, telephone reception, sign post and brand logo in Portuguese meaning. Thus, sinal de qualidade is saying that VIVO is a brand name of quality AND gives you quality reception when you make a call.

Another advert I've seen recently is for EPSON, makers of computer printers and suchlike. Towards the end of their TV advert they have the word PENSO displayed on the screen which then rearranges itself into the brand name EPSON. PENSO means "I think" which is quite a smart slogan, I guess. It surprises me that a large international company like EPSON have a Portuguese-specific advertising campaign. Lots of other Multi-nationals (Colgate or VISA, for example) often import their adverts from the States with little adaptation to the Brazilian market. I suppose if EPSON wanted to repeat their little trick for the English market they would need to rename their brand KINTHI and then have the letters rearrange themselves to spell "I think". I don't think it's going to happen somehow.

A further entry in the open diary of how to (and how not to) get by in the Portuguese language. It's very late and I'm a bit tired and I'm supposed to be cooking pancakes for some pancake races tomorrow at the language school (yes, and I know it's one month after pancake day!) but here's another entry on Portuguese learning.

Without a doubt, one of the biggest factors that affects whether or not I can communicate in Portuguese is the context. When you communicate with someone, it is rarely with a stranger and it is rarely about something completely unrelated to your present situation. I mean, if in England, a person came up to me on the street and asked, "Did you eat kippers for breakfast?" I would be forgiven for saying "Say what now?" even though we speak the same language. Similarly, in Brazil, if I am talking to someone I know about a common problem or topic I am normally able to communicate with a measure of fluency. Likewise, some language in life follows set patterns - at the gas station, in a shop, with the bloke across the road there are a set of questions that are always asked which you learn to recognise.

It's when the random old lady at the supermarket throws me a googly that I'm really thrown. This happens from time to time: somebody speaks to me out of context, asks me a question or makes a comment about goodness knows resulting in my being totally stumped (to use the second cricket analogy in two sentences). Of course, being English, I assume that a random conversation with a stranger is likely to be about the weather, but this is rarely the case here. Natal's weather is one of the least interesting things to talk about. As a student told me today, "Natal has two seasons: hot and hell". So, when a stranger starts a conversation with me about any old thing I am often left slack-jawed and dumbfounded as they twitter away to the point of my, and eventually their, embarrassment.

This issue of context also applies to phone conversations, especially when a client calls me at Cultura. On the phone all non-verbal communication (which is pretty essential for my understanding of Portuguese) is missing. No hand gestures, no pointing at words, no facial expressions - just a monologue of information about something to do with something or somebody connected to learning English or something. With no more clues at my disposal I am often at a loss, although to be fair I do get by better now than I did six months ago.

What I am saying here is that I prefer it when I speak to somebody I know well (like my wife) about something we always talk about (what's for dinner) face to face with plenty of non-verbal communication (she is looking in the fridge pointing at the leftovers) and, if possible, this person throws in the occasional word or three of English ("Honey, o que a gente eat for dinner?"). Then, I'm fine and I think this Portuguese thing ain't so hard after all.

An open diary of how to (and how not to) get by in the Portuguese language. I completely forgot I was going to tell you all about my learning Portuguese. Well, I promised a story two posts ago and here it is. It is true that I am sometimes a bit harsh to my students when I publish their English clangers on here, but they could have a field day with my Portuguese, I'm sure.

A few months ago we were in a restaurant, just before a football match between Nautico (from Recife) and America (from Natal). Nelson was running around (as usual) and a guy from another table started chatting to me. He had travelled up from Recife for the game and was wearing a Nautico shirt. I explained (quite well I thought!) that Rachel's family were from Recife and, in fact, supported Nautico too and that we were going to the game. At this point I wanted to say that Nelsinho had a little Nautico football shirt too and to do so I used the common Portuguese addition to nouns of -inha which generally means "little" (i.e. Ronaldinho means little Ronaldo). So, I thought, the word Portuguese for shirt - "camisa" - would become "camisinha", naturally. But, as with all general rules there are exceptions and I had hit the bullseye of exceptions in this instance. As I said the word "camisinha", Rachel (who was 2 tables away) shot me a quick glance and shook her head. "Don't use that word!", she mouthed. I could actually see the thoughts in her head forming, slow-motion-like, into a long and despairing "Nooooooooo....". I felt like I was in a comedy scene from a dodgy film as the restaurant went silent, everyone turned to eyeball me and a tumbleweed floated by.

Anyway, my blooper came down to this. Camisinha is Portuguese slang for some other object that is both small and worn for protection. I had just told a complete stranger that my son had recieved from his Grandad, in the red and white colours of Nautico, a condom. Oops.

An afternoon at an orphanage. Rachel and I have wanted to get involved in some social action work but for one reason or another it hasn't worked out until now. We (eventually) managed to track down the contact for an orphanage here in Natal I had been given by one of students, a Christian called Marcus. Rachel spoke to the lady there and we went to visit yesterday. We didn't know what we would find and whether there would be an opportunity for us as a family to be involved. What we did find was heart-wrenching but probably not unusual. Up and down Brazil, the forgotten children of this country end up in places not unlike the one we visited yesterday - a small, bare house of two floors which presently has 35 kids, literally bouncing off the walls, aged 1 to 14 and only two carers worked off their feet.

The lady who started the orphanage took pity on three kids that were left on her doorstep 14 years ago. She took pity on them and the flood gates opened. 14 years on and those first kids are still there. There are needs in every direction at this place so there's lots for us to do. Nelson, who was mobbed on account of his blond hair and on account of being somebody different, was a bit nervous at first but later warmed up to the younger kids in the group. We are praying about how to be involved, how to give and what we can do. Watch this space for more news!

Amusing uses of Portuguese: me attempting public speaking. We came back from a night in Joao Pessoa on Sunday. The occasion for our brief trip was Rachel's Dad's Dad's 80th. He is quite frail and has had a difficult few months but it was nice the family could be together and Nelson could see his cousins.

Back in Natal, our little church group met in the afternoon and the leaders and our good friends Marcelo and Veronica had asked me to say a few words about my parents situation in Africa and also reflect on something in the Bible that I felt was important. I was to speak in Portuguese without a translator. As usual, I was in a rush heading up to the service and I felt it wasn't so well prepared. But, I was really thrown when I arrived to find that our usual group (10 people or less) had trebled in size, was featuring some esteemed guests form Recife and all this was taking place in a completely different room. I found myself muttering an oft-quoted maxim - when in Brazil, expect the unexpected. When the time came for me to do my bit I fumbled about with my piece of paper and explained to everyone that I was a bit nervous but I did have my dictionary and wife around to help me soldier through. I spoke for about 10 minutes on one of my favourite chunks of the book of Acts - chapter 11 and the thoroughly international and outward looking church at Antioch. My efforts at accuracy were shoddy at best but I think I got my point across and that's the main point of communication, I suppose.

After a year in Natal, I finally feel I am getting somewhere with my Portuguese. I can certainly "get by" in most run-of-the-mill activities of the day - at the supermarket, putting petrol in the car, sleeping, walking etc. I understand "quasi-tudo" of what is said to me, especially within Rachel's family where I am used to their voices and manner of speaking. When I was learning to play the guitar aged 14 I think I reached a point after 6 months where the basics were in place, my fingers weren't so sore and I could actually play a couple of tunes. I think I am in the equivelent linguistic position as regards my Portuguese. I hope and pray I can keep plodding on from here and get close-ish to fluency by the time we leave Natal. WIth this in mind, I thought I should write a bit on here about my language learning adventures beginning with an absolute clanger from a few months back...

but, I'll save that for my next entry.