A painting, a platter of fish, three prostitutes, and a Rastafarian pimp

I woke up feeling rather unadventurous, so booked an organized tour to Petropolis (details of this tour in a different post). As we were coming back into Rio I saw a group of artists displaying their paintings. A big yellow painting caught my eye, and I had to see it. I didn't know where I was relative to my hotel, but I begged the tour group to stop the bus and let me off, rather than taking me back to my hotel. They tried to talk me out of it, but I assured them I would be ok. They let me off the minibus several blocks away from where I saw the artists.

I found my way back to the artists, and saw a big yellow painting that screamed "Buy me!!" so I decided to listen to it. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough Reals in my pocket and needed to find an ATM machine to get more cash. I asked the artist (Luiz Deleon Coelho) where one was, and he didn't know. All in all, I ended up getting directions from about a half a dozen people. While withdrawing funds, it suddenly occurred to me that asking people where I can get cash in a city known for poverty, muggings, and high crime was probably not the smartest thing I could do.

After getting a wad of cash, I decided to thwart potential thieves by stopping for a bite to eat before returning for the painting. That way I could pull out only enough money for dinner and the painting, and maybe a bit of other shopping, and bury the rest of the money in various pockets and places in my purse.

Once at the restaurant, I informed the waiter (in my limited amount of Portuguese) that I wasn't very hungry, and would like something small. He suggested a fish appetizer and I agreed. I nearly fell off my chair when he brought out this GIANT platter of deep fried tiny fish!!

I downed a couple Brazilian beers (Chopp Brahma) while nibbling on the fish and giggling to myself about my ordering mistake and ATM stupidity. After a while, I thought I heard voices behind me. Yes, behind me, and not in my head!! I eventually turned around and an older Rastafarian man introduced himself as an English teacher. He had three gorgeous women with him (all early 20s), who he introduced as his students. He asked if I would be willing to let them practice English with me. I agreed, provided that they would help me eat the scary fish. They agreed and provided more beer.

I asked the girls why they wanted to learn English. They told me that they were in the tourism industry. I assumed they worked for a tour group or hotel. After about an hour of chatting, the "teacher" excused himself for a while.

That's when I found out exactly what kind of tourists they served.....they were prostitutes. I nearly choked on a fish! I talked with them for about another hour (and - ahem - taught them some job-appropriate phrases), before I realized that it was after midnight and I completely forgot about the painting.

I decided to wander back and see if I could find the painting again. The artist was just starting to pack up. Luckily for me, the painting was still there!

This painting now hangs in my home office.

It is large (42" x 58") and fills the better part of the wall. Every time I enter the room, I see the painting and smile, remembering back on an adventurous evening in Rio de Janeiro.