I decided against the millionaire lifestyle, or, to paraphrase Cary Grant, it decided against me. Instead, I have found a ramshackle place where I can indulge a penchant for faded glamour. Yes, that old chestnut…

With a pool outside my room and a decent location, not to mention a rent which takes cash, I think I can live with this.

It was a relief to find somewhere, once I had accepted the fact I will likely be a bit of a nomad for the next few months at least. Teaching English, while a useful way to meet folks and enjoyable in itself, is far less lucrative than journalism, so I am going to adjust the way I am dividing up my time a bit.

I am currently teaching a Naval Commander in Niteroi, the island opposite Rio. For the money he pays, it probably isn’t worth the trip by boat over the ocean, as when all is factored in I probably just make enough for a couple of “per kilo” meals only. Without spelling out what might be appealing about the job, I do it mainly because I enjoy it.

The other day, we were reading an article about the forthcoming elections in Brazil, which included a comment on “the shenanigans” that have gone on during the campaign. The shenanigans mentioned seemed to involve nothing more than the usual mudslinging during most elections, plus a bit of bargaining and compromise when it came to the selection of candidates. I had to explain to the Commander however that he shouldn’t really refer to “shenanigans” when talking about military business at a conference. I feel justified in laughing at other people’s language errors since others laughing at mine is more or less a daily occurence.

Only yesterday, I realised that the text I sent expressing my excitement at being taken to Maracana actually communicated a state of sexual arousal. Thankfully, since I am in Brazil, I do like football, but not that much.

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