The Astounding Travel Adventures of a Miraculous Fellow


The Happiest Farm on Earth
August 26, 2008, 9:22 am
Filed under: Brazil
 
Pat, Me, and Helio
Pat, Me, and Helio

I have a friend whose name is Helio.  He is Brazilian.  During the week, Helio lives in a nice house in Sao Paolo, one of the largest cities on Earth, with almost 30 million people.  He doesn’t know most of them.  Like Batman, however, during most weekends Helio has an alternate identity.  In this identity, he is still Helio, is still Brazilian, still doesn’t know all 30 million people in Sao Paolo, but he lives in another place…a place unlike any other on God’s Blue Earth.

The Cathedral of the Midget God of Aguai

The Cathedral of the Midget God of Aguaí

 
This place is called “The Farm.”
 
While most traditional farms grow crops or cultivate delicious animals that humans cut to pieces, smother in sauce, place in their mouths, then chew, swallow, and eventually discharge into feces receptacles or (when terrified in Venezuela) their pants, this farm does none of the above.  On this farm, the only thing that grows is magic, and the only thing cultivated are dreams.  Oh, and chicken eggs.  They cultivate those too.
 
After leaving the hustle and bustle of Sao Paolo, Helio, his girlfriend Deborah, his cousin Talissa, Pat and I drove for about 2 hours until we reached the little town of Aguaí.  While driving through this Brazilian suburbia, we passed into the center of town and stopped at a gate.  Generally, in my experience, farms aren’t located in the middle of suburbs, but as I said before, on this farm, you are transported to a magical land where suburbs don’t exist.  As the gate slid open, and we shifted the car inside, the first thing we were greeted by was an exact miniature replica of the town’s cathedral.  This replica church stands at about 15 feet tall, is covered in the identical statues, stained glass windows, and steeple of the real church, and was built by Helio’s grandfather, a proud Aguaían, in tribute to what is most likely a powerful, yet merciful, Midget God of Aguaí. 
 
The next thing we passed was a perfectly groomed soccer field, which is basically the most cherished thing in all of Helio’s family.  If the farm caught on fire one day, they would all sprint outside with shovels and pickaxes, and move the field yard-by-yard to safety.  Maybe later they’d try to save the monkey.The Disgruntled Monkey
 
Oh yes, you heard me right.  They have a monkey.  He’s kind of a jerk though, and wouldn’t do my bidding and fetch me cold beers, pick the ticks out of my hair, or dance around when I manically clapped my hands and repeatedly yelled “Dance monkey! Dance!  Waaaahaaaahaaa!”  But, nonetheless, it was a monkey, and I grinned wildly while he climbed around his hut and tree while nervously eyeballing me. 
 
Now, for more about the farm.  It is a huge place, with about 18 bedrooms, a swimming pool, and a glorious bar.  This bar rivalled most I’ve ever seen (and, unbeknownst to most, I’ve frequented many a bar — woo!) by having about 6 shelves full of different bottles of international alcohols, old beer cans (remember the old 1980s dancing Bud can with headphones that scooted around to music? — they had one of those too), and all kinds of Corinthians futebol paraphernalia, which is a rite of passage to be a member of this proud family.  What was more fun, was that this farm was full of family members — aunts, uncles, Moms, Dad, cousins, friends, and of course, Grandma, all of whom wanted you to drink caipirinhas.  So, after a session with these fun-loving lunatics, in which Grandma herself took a shot without using her hands, I rapidly found myself swinging from a tree with a cold beverage in tow, trying fruitlessly to capture a bewildered monkey.
Look Kids, No Hands!

Look Kids, No Hands!

 
 
 
On the topic of animals, while this farm did not cultivate animals for consumption, I did not intend this to mean there are no animals.  Helio’s aunt is an avid animal protectionist (and has a strange ability to speak to animals — within seconds of approaching that dastardly evasive monkey, it would hop into her arms) so there are abundant animals that live a life of peace on the farm.  At least, peace that occasionally is interrupted by a drunken gringo chasing them to and fro. 
 
Among the animals on the farm are a flock of geese, 400 million chickens and roosters, three toucans who enjoy nothing more than pecking peoples’ eyeballs from their heads, four parrots, a pond full of fish, and five Doberman Pinschers.  Oh, and one other peculiar animal that once resembled a dog. Let me paint you a mental picture of this interesting beast: imagine a dog (possibly a shitzu or cockerspaniel, mainly because their names are hilarous); now imagine this dog being eaten by a pregnant dog; now imagine a hippo eating this pregnant dog; now imagine a Doberman Pinscher eating this hippo, and Voila! you have the “Fattest Dog on Earth.” 
 
The Fattest Dog on Earth

The Fattest Dog on Earth

 

 
This thing was incredible.  It most likely weighed close to 200 pounds, had a belly like a pregnant she-giant, could stagger at a lightning pace of 0.4 mph generally toward its food bowl, and, being Grandma’s baby, slept on a human’s bed.  It was, literally, the size of a smallish, obese brontosaurus.  We told Helio at one point it would lose a few pounds if he took for a walk…around the Earth.  Alas, he was a gentle fat ass, and I couldn’t resist giving him all of my table scraps, which he consumed along with the plate, the table the plate was on, and the upper half of my body.
 
More on the Farm.  The miniature church previously mentioned was not the only altar to the town of Agauí.  There were tiny replicas of the first two-story house in the town, complete with tiny couches, a tiny table, and a tiny bed.  It made even a smallish Jeff Wheeland feel like a normal sized-man…sniff…for this one day, I knew the joy of being average-sized, like the rest of you…sniff. 
For once in my life, I am a giant.

For once in my life, I am a giant.

Anywho, true to form, this replica had two floors with a balcony, that we climbed out on to scream to all the others in Midgetville “I am enormous!  Bow before me!”  This tiny little village also had a tribute to the Mayor of Tinytown, with a perfect replica of the Aguaí mayoral office.  After playing “Merciful, Handsome, Yet Spiteful Mayor” for seven or eight hours, I wandered around the property for awhile longer, only to find the tiny train tracks!  While no longer functional, in the past there was a little train that rumbled around the property.  This farm, for children and simple-minded doofuses such as yours truly, is probably the greatest place on Earth. 

 
Bow Before the Giants of Aguai!!!

Bow Before the Giants of Aguaí!!!

Later that evening, after all 25 of us feasted on a Brazilian churrascuria (barbecue) consisting of a couple of painless slices of the “Fattest Dog on Earth” (which was about 400 kilos of beef) we headed out to Helio’s friend’s house for a little pre-party before a big concert in Aguaí.  When we arrived, we met a bunch of Brazilians who did something very, very strange for their race: they spoke English.  Thus, for the first time in my month in this fine country, I was able to communicate to people.  It was delightful.  Moreover, these people had a wonderfully attractive collection of women with them, most of whom spoke English as well.  One of said women was blond-haired, blue-eyed, and deliciously beautiful.  Naturally, she had zero attraction to me, but was quite taken with our little friend Patrick.  By the end of the night, after hours of gazing into (what I consider, when comparing to myself) this hideous creature named Pat’s eyes, a strange thing happened for a Brazilan woman when talking to a man: nothing.  While constantly dogding my efforts to sneak-attack-kiss her from all angles throughout the night, this lovely specimen got absolutely no loving from Pat.  There are two possible reasons for this:

 
 
1. He is gayer than Christmas.
2. He has a girlfriend.
 
Despite, Helio’s and my own suspicions about #1, the answer is #2.  He has a girlfriend, and is disgustingly faithful.  So Lisa, if you are reading this, you owe our little friend Patrick a big time “high-five”, and possibly a high “woo hoo!, wink-wink, caw-caw!” if you catch my disturbing sexual innuendo.  Oh, and please let Helio and I know if it was just #1 that was the real reason for his fidelity.
The End of the Night

The End of the Night

 
By the end of the night, Helio’s English, which is normally very good, degenerated into a mishmash of fake slurred words, which was basically the same thing as Canadian English, and his Portuguese was nonexistent.  He was “The Man Without a Language.”  So, after consuming multiple glasses of Brazilian “wine” (read: grape juice), dancing the Gringo Samba (read: running in place), and having my face inhaled by a Brazilian woman (read: she must have been really drunk), we stumbled our way home to finish the night with a game of “Harrass the Monkey.” 
 
All was well on the Happiest Farm on Earth.
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4 Comments so far
Leave a comment

Keep up the good work and blogging. Sorry about the monkey not taking to you. Love the comedy bro, send my best to Helio and Pat. I hope to make it down there sometime soon. Thcau cara!

Comment by MRM

Now you know how I feel in the “normal sized” world bro. That picture of you on that tiny bed is what I look like on a Cal King. What the fuck are you still doing over there? I thought you had grad school to attend…..or was that just your excuse to pay less on the cabo trip. I should’ve thought of that, but no one would’ve believed me. Booo!

Comment by Koyt

This particular blog could be made into a childrens story book.

Comment by Marc

muito obrigada, yeff. no lovin probably made the gatinha want pat even more. I say “take that, hot brazilian woman”! Pato deserves many rewards for his faithfulness.

Comment by Lisa Glancy




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