A few Brazilians convey distress to me over my blog. They enjoy my depiction of daily life in Brazil, however, they feel my usage of "jungle" in the title is unfair. I am informed that many here believe America unjustly stereotypes Brazilians as a bunch of tree dwelling, loincloth wearing, spear toting Indians.
This is Sao Paulo, home of culture and sophistication. The Indians, I am repeatedly assured, live in the jungle. Not in the cities. This is the City.
They are correct.
The rainforest which once stood in the way of progress has been removed and replaced with glorious Sao Paulo. The city is, however, flanked on three sides by the Atlantic Coastal Rainforest, a bonafide official rainforest (full of bonafide official Indians)
Nonetheless I cede the point. I am in the city. But my title intends the word "jungle" in the "concrete jungle" sense. In the context of the rest of my title, it is meant to be an ironic play on the Victorian notion of the "Glourious Expedition" (which is why this blog's description is in the wording of a pulp adventure novel) The wordplay is furthered by the fact that this "concrete jungle" is smack in the middle of a forested jungle.
We have some coffee. We tell some jokes. It is agreed that we will visit the fashion district of Paulista Avenue and take a picture for the blog.
We debate soccer. We play soccer. It is agreed that we will go into the rainforest and take a picture for the blog.
Everybody eats chocolate and goes home happy.
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