I used to shop at thrift stores for clothes (still do sometimes!). I always ended up buying stuff with bold patterns and garish colors. I wanted to stand out as a funky artist. When I look back on some old pictures I sometimes wonder who let me out of the house wearing that outfit. Thankfully, the passage of time brought some maturity, and working in Boston helped me refine my taste. Even so, I am loathe to wear anything that's completely plain, and I am miserable in a uniform. I'm still very much attracted to colors and patterns, but I've learned, for the most part, to balance them, and make them palatable to the eye.
I'm less daring in my fashion here than I was while in the U.S. I don't want to stand out as a tacky American. But, on days when I'm feeling extra self-assured or quirky, I'll layer on the clunky, funky jewelry and hippie accessories, even in the heat.
The tendency here in Saint Joseph of the Fields is to blend in and not overdo things. Everyone wants to look attractive, but no one wants to cross the line and look ridiculous. This is true in fashion as well as in day-to-day behavior. There's a padrão--a standard template, a model to follow, and anything fora do padrão--outside the norm, unconventional, or off-beat--runs the risk of being seen as absurd.
Of course, this is not unique to where I live. It's how most societies work, and it's easy to see that an expected pattern of behavior establishes stability and encourages healthy interactions. But the artist in me is begging us to consider how some out-of-the-ordinary facets of life may actually be indispensable to our well-being.
Think about an unexpected compliment. Its result is an unrestrained smile, and a surge of joyous energy that makes someone's day. And why is laughter so powerful? There are many reasons, but one is the pleasure of such an unexpected outpouring of cheer. And think about the last amusing conversation you had with a child. A little one shared an unfiltered opinion, and it likely tickled your funny bone, or even floored you with depths of wisdom or imagination. The unanticipated and curiously apt words that come from children's mouths simultaneously admonish and delight us.
Let me share a few things from my day-to-day life here in São José that glimmer with facets that are just a bit fora do padrão, adding zest to the mundane.
I'm often the only one at the bakery in the morning ordering just coffee (black--no sugar or sweetener) and nothing to eat. Everyone else is loading on the carbs, with pão na chapa (toasted bread) or pão de queijo (cheese bread), or some pastry, but I'm trying to be healthy while getting caffinated. I sit on the bar stool with my yoga mat or gym bag across my shoulders, and open my stackable snack cups filled with little rice crackers and peanut or almond butter (which I often bring from the U.S.). No one seems to mind that I'm in a bakery eating food from outside (that wouldn't go over so well where I'm from). I get lots of odd stares, smiles, and even comments of admiration for those stackable snack cups. Maybe my breakfast has become a dull routine, but it still stirs curiosity in my neighbors as they wonder about that earth-colored paste I'm scooping out.
Back in Central Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts, it's common to walk around or take public transportation with a yoga mat in tow, but it isn't here, at least not yet. The teal roll and fuchsia carrying strap that awkwardly accompany me through the bus turnstile draw plenty of stares. On the sidewalks, I have a habit of walking fast--with purpose--trying to get to where I'm going. But that doesn't discourage folks from stopping me and asking where I do yoga, striking up a friendly conversation. Even though this kind of interaction differs greatly from the cold anonymity I was familiar with in Boston, I like it because it makes me feel noticed. I'm not just another face in the crowd, and I just might have some important information to share about yoga classes.
When I leave the yoga studio and go to the gym (I wasn't this health-conscious in Boston!), I pass a garage that's sometimes under the watch of a long-haired white and black cat. Now that she and I are well-acquainted, she'll lazily strut outside to do me the honor of allowing me to pet her. As I kneel down next to her, and tell her in English what a bea-U-ti-ful POOS-ey cat she is, I wonder how long I can stay there without drawing too many concerned stares from passerby. It may be an oddity for anyone who isn't an English-speaking cat-lover, but it's an endearing little encounter that, when it happens, adds pleasure to my morning like a flavor shot to coffee.
Waiting for the bus in the afternoon with a canvas bag full of books and games, and sometimes a travel mug of tea, I feel the perfect balance of being both a local and a foreigner. People may walk down the street enjoying ice cream here, but never a hot drink. Although I do try to blend in as much as I can, I won't let myself be deprived of tea if I want it and I'm short on time. So I'll sip it at the bus stop and stare at the trees and ignore the truck drivers who blare their horns at me and other women. People often ask me questions about the bus, which I can easily answer now that I know the route. As soon as I start speaking, though, my accent causes eyebrows to lift, and brings a chuckled response of, "You aren't from around here, are you?" Though I may have adapted well to the rhythm of everyday life, I will never perfectly conform to the padrão, and that's OK.
Recently on my bus ride, I've noticed a guy with headphones in a field outside some apartments, dancing like crazy. This is quite fora do padrão--an extremely unusual sight here. But it's immensely comforting to me that this guy doesn't seem to care what people think, and gives himself fully to his lunchtime mission of dancing with reckless abandon.
This past week, I was teaching a writing lesson, in which teenage students had to construct an advertisement to sell something online. They usually "sell" headphones or old video games with mixed levels of enthusiasm. I've taught this lesson many times, but this was the first time a student asked permission to write an advertisement for a flying cow! (Of course I gave full permission and encouraged her to use the target language to market it well!) I'm eager to know who may want to "buy" it when we share the texts in class, and I'm refreshed by her nonconformity.
When I walk through the street market, there's a guy who knows I'm American, and, whether or not I stop to buy hot peppers at his stand, he'll call out, in a strong accent, "Good-djie morning!" I like how it adds a bit of flavor to my day, as well to that of the surprised customers around me. Maybe that guy has a spark of the same flame that once twinkled in the eyes of my grandfather.
Grandpa was the kind of guy who would pull out a fake accent when ordering at the drive-thru, checking out at a supermarket, or even on the phone. He would befuddle telemarketers by taking on multiple personas as he pretended to pass the phone to various brothers. One time, probably during the 1980's, he convinced someone selling a phone plan that he didn't actually have a phone. He came up with an elaborate explanation of a satellite connection that allowed him to talk sans phone, which, afterward, must have given the caller a lot to ponder.
Pranks and jokes were common at family gatherings, and I always braced for something unusual when introducing a friend to Grandpa. Although he walked a fine line between being amusing and annoying, he always left people with a hearty laugh, a boost of adrenaline, and a different view of their day.
With practice, straying from the padrão becomes an art form. I deeply admire artists who make their viewers encounter something fora do padrão. I know an artist in Boston who leaves fun things in unusual places intended to catch people's eyes and provoke thought. Similarly, I am enthralled by yarn bombing and other forms of guerrilla art, as well as creative random acts of kindness.
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| Photo taken by Dani H. at TEDx Sâo Paulo -- Crochet by: Coletivo NaLã, 1000 Fios a 1000, & Meiofio |
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| Photo taken by Dani H. at TEDx Sâo Paulo -- Crochet by: Coletivo NaLã, 1000 Fios a 1000, & Meiofio |
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| By Friendlyneighborhoodyarnbomber - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35341120 |
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| By r2hox from Madrid, Spain - PORTO - 201409 - 251, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=39886776 |
My own artwork, ever since my college days, invites the viewer to see something different in the ordinary. Every glimmer of light, framed by layers of ephemeral leaves, twisting tree branches, and the harsher, more dramatic edges of buildings is a call to to stop and observe what may not have been noticed otherwise. The viewer may even leave and continue about the day more keenly aware of the unexpected in the ordinary.
This is an invitation to consider the richness and even the entrepreneurial necessity of things fora do padrão. Sometimes there's a risk in stepping outside of the expected, but it's there that we discover the fount of innovation and vivacity. Colors sometimes look better outside the lines, and not every wrinkle needs to be smoothed out. Like a tempo change in music, or the complimentary flavors of guava and sharp cheese, the offbeat takes us by surprise to make a memorable moment. And the ability to notice, enjoy, and even to boldly and blithely create these moments will transform the mundane into something delightful and vital to our existence.
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