With extensions into Argentine, Paraguay and Brazil, Iguazu Falls is the worlds largest waterfall with a total of 275 falls along the Iguazu River. We experienced the power of the flow many times with the falls of nothing less than 82 meters height resounding above our heads, feeling the blasts of water that repeatably blew our hair back. Or was it on the platform surrounded by endless streams of water, or was it on the speed boat close to the foot of the huge tale of Noah’s Arc; in every manner it was a boundless, vertically-placed sea.

The four days went by visiting the falls frequently, going to the bird park, being around the hotel, and playing football. We did also cross the borders to Argentine and to Paraguay, where we, respectively, went to shop at the main street, and at a huge market containing electronics, clothes and all sorts of replicates.

As it occasionally was the days up to Christmas, we received the task of buying a little present, which we the last day distributed as a rule of a game called “Amigo Oculto” translated to “Secret Santa” a West-european christmas game. It’s a cool game, where you have to pick a name in the pot, and give him/her the present - but first you have to describe the person without using names, and, furthermore, without telling the appearance. Simply you have to pass information in form of compliments, to the audience which will try to guess your person. I received a pan-flute from an Italian mate.

It was all in all a very nice voyage with a lot of good experiences, exchanges and views. There is definitely one word that I have to stress: Unforgettable.

Enjoy the photos.

A traditional danish Christmas consists, in my family, of a gathering of everybody. Arriving around 04pm, we greet all our relatives by starting small conversations informing ourselves about their health and wellness. It could be questions about American Football, work plans, hobbies, etc.; a very small talk. When everybody feels comfortable, the home-cooked dinner gets served. The tongue and the rest of our senses get overwhelmed in sinus-curved rounds, fulfilling the tastebuds’ wishes with perfection. First there are the potatoes, sweets or not - what you prefer. Second there is the unforgettable, well-temperated duck; not too much and not too little. Third there is the roasted pork with the unimaginable crispy skin, ripped in uniformed units, melting on the tongue. (I’m getting hungry). Fourth - the crown of the dinner -, is the well-prepared salad with walnuts, iceberg, dried currants, vinegar, tomatoes and, sometimes, apples. And of course, all accompanied with THE brown sauce.

There doesn’t exist anything close to this.

As the last pile of the glittered waterfall of dust, is the dessert. Rice pudding with the almond gift. In the pudding is hidden one whole almond. The objective is to find that almond; show it, and you’ll get the gift - chew it in parts, and, well, you would not dare to know, but I can ensure you that you won’t get the pink pork of marzipan; also known as the trophy of all trophies.

The big feast is followed up by the session of singing the danish Christmas carols (many of them have the same melody in English) all together, small ones as well as big ones. Afterwards, we slowly open the presents showing what we’ve got to everybody, along with our deep gratitude, and like this, the night ends about 12pm, driving towards home, satisfied. Sleeping.

My Brazilian Christmas was very different. Certain things as the gathering and the presents were the same, though. But it was more like a party. Yes, there was good food, but what got served was cod, farofa(typically Brazilian mixture of a special prepared flour, bacon, egg and onions), potatoes, salad of apples with a cream of mayonnaise, and a dessert of chocolate mousse besides a cake of strawberries.

Yes. There was music, not traditional Danish Christmas music, but pop-music with Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas, that turned the Christmas-carpet into a dance floor, which, in my opinion, removed the Danish Christmas spirit and the coziness, replacing it with party.

I’m not saying that the Christmas was better or worse, just different. Even though that I now know, that I wouldn’t give up the Danish Christmas for anything in the world, I see, when I look back in the rear-view, that it was a good experience, that made me value my values of my home country.

Besides that, the only thing left to say is: Enjoy the pictures, and a very late very merry Christmas.

The snorkeling took place on a local farm. We got split up in four groups, each one with our own guide, before we changed our clothes to the rented wetsuits; and off we went. There was a 45 minutes walk to the staringt point; 45 minutes of sunbathing in a wetsuit, sticking to the body like a chewing gum. I personally started to sweat, but under the circumstances - walking in the forest with mosquitoes with hunger - I chose to endure, instead of zipping my breast naked. After all, what is an adventure without a moment of suffering?

The little path lead out to a wooden ledge, from where we all entered the water. The cool water was very refreshing; every little muscle began to relax. We put on our snorkels, after we had spat on them; a trick too keep the from dew. The guide gave us a small introduction: Keep between two and three meters to the person ahead. Don’t mix your legs, because it disturbs the flow and the rhythm of the water, and scares the fishes. To remind you of this, bend your feet in a cross, and let them float. Always stay in line… and so we did, when we began the adventure. 

The water was crystal clear; from the start location to the estuary of the river we had great vision, allowing us a sight of an area measuring 60 meters in radius. The big amount of seafood was alluring, and I did touch one, two or three of them even though the guide mentioned not to do that. We floated for about 50 minutes before we hit our first stop,  ending up with a faster flow.

We entered the river a few hundred meters ahead, and continued floating. The next notable mark was the volcano; a nickname for the phenomenon of a subaquatic lair of oxygen, which made the surface of sand dance just like a volcano.

After a relaxing time, we rode the last part of the river, closing  our adventure with the truck ride back to the farm. During all this, we did of course rent a water camera to take pictures, to save this memory not only forever in our minds, but also in bytes. Enjoy.

The riverrafting took place at the river Rio Formoso, beginner level, rafting approximately 8 kilometers in a beautiful scenery with open sky, forests on both sides, living animals, and a burning sun. During the rafting we fought like warriors, excited of the blood rage flushing through our veins. We stole the oars of each other, pulled the enemy’s oarsmen into the water, span the boats around, and, most important, had a great time.

And that is truly correct. It was like a battle with four squadrons representing the Saxons, the Indians, the Russians, and the Vikings. With a Norwegian on my frigate we were the only battle ship with Scandinavians, why we of course were the Vikings.

The activity was a mixture of team-building and gymnastics, which with the proper leader, co-leader, and operator lead to victory in the end; I do not need to tell how the fight terminated - the history of the Vikings reflects that properly; always winning!

Throughout the whole battle we had supporters in canoes taking pictures, why my gallery now is expanded with 49 images.

The group consisted of about 39 exchange students from all over the world including South Africa, Italy, Belgium, Thailand, Norway, Denmark, France, the United States of America, New Zealand, and Australia. The main part, however, was from Germany. People were very friendly and easy to cope with, which transformed the first whole day of driving into a lot of fun. Our guide from Belo Brasil also did his share by telling his interestings stories about earlier trips.

Our adventure was divided in two parts, with the first destination at a local farm, Xaraés, about one hour from Campo Grande, the capital of Pantanal. The first impression that the whole group made together, was to complain about the famous mosquitoes. It was like stepping on the hot sand of Ipanema Beach in the middle of the tourist season;  big swarms of fat, sun-sucking, people glued to the sand doing nothing but sucking sun, sucking sun and sucking sun. I can ensure you that we all did pull repellent out of our bags, initiating a small project of organized skin protection.

Xaraés was very well arranged interior, not to mention exterior. We had a very large space to play football, a pool, and even three guides to take care of us 24 hours a day; one of them nicknamed “Indiana Jones” because of his strange language rooted in Spanish, Portuguese, and English, on top of his energetic appearance just like Harrison Ford with hat. Furthermore, he was the perfect scout; with his help I managed to see arara-Azuis (blue parrots), arara-vermelhos (red parrots), apes, an anteater, snakes (not wilds), fishes, Jacarés (a type of an alligator), deers, boars, lizards, a lot of insects, and a lot of undefined creatures.

We spent two wholes days at Xaraés, exploring the terrain, riding horses, fishing, and relaxing at the pool, before we entered the airconditioned bus and headed for Bonito.

Bonito, was a flat city with a very low grade of urbanization - the word Urbanizationin in this case particular, only founded on behalf of the center’s mainstreet. We were hosted by a very nice hotel, not to fancy, not to grey, but with the necessary needs to fulfil everybody’s taste.

The city of activities, was indeed the proper nickname for Bonito, indicated by to major events: Riverrafting and snorkeling. The riverrafting took place at the river Rio Formoso, beginner level, rafting approximately 8 kilometers in a beautiful scenery with open sky, forests on both sides, living animals, and a burning sun. During the rafting we fought like warriors, excited of the blood rage flushing through our veins. We stole the oars of each other, pulled the enemy’s oarsmen into the water, span the boats around, and, most important, had a great time.

The snorkeling was nothing less, if not more. We floated on the surface of the river Rio de Prata, the Silver River. A name well chosen in the perspective of that it’s possible to see 60 meter sub water. There were many beautiful fishes, among other things, that made the 1:30hour worth it all!

It was a wonderful trip - or adventure - which I definitely will remember for a long time. And hopefully it have given me friends forever. Enjoy the pictures.

My godmother Isa, or Ginda (translated to english means godmother), was, besides us, invited  by some friends to a party Thursday evening in Niteroi. We left home a bit late, but leaving in time wouldn´t do anything better; the traffic was hell. Our car wheeled out of the garage 7:35pm to be there around 8:00pm, but because of the beforementioned %$¬¢1!&)¨¨$@%! we arrived 10:20pm - estimated driving time under normal circumstances equals 25 minutes. Nonetheless, we were happy arriving after all, not to mention hungry, although a bit exhausted.

We entered the apartment beautifully decorated with balloons - view the gallery pictures - commemorating Ginda, and there was placed snacks on the tables to kill the worst hunger before the last guests arrived. I sat down, talked, and had fun, and a surprise video we´ve made for Ginda, telling her about our feelings for her, was shown.

Later, after the last guests finally arrived, we ate, and when it was time for the cake, we celebrated Isa with song. I also got my chance to show my musical abilities, singing “I dag er det Gindas foedselsdag” in danish for her with the crowd yelling Hurra, hurra, HURRA!

It was a good night that ended at 02:00am the next morning, which allows me to stress the fact that Brazilians party amazingly - not only in the weekends, but daily as well. I had to go to school this morning.

Congratulations Ginda, you´re wonderful!

We left Rio de Janeiro the wedding day and flew to Brasilia with GOL airlines, a local domestic flight company. The flight took approximately one and a half hour if not less. While approaching the airport in Brasilia, I viewed the barren soil with a lot of red-sandy plains. Brasilia is completely different from Rio de Janeiro. The grade of urbanization is very compressed in the center of the city, but only there. Otherwise, the houses are spread along wide areas of territory with big roads connecting them together. And not to mention the heat. It´s so dying hot that you do not dare to waste the last drop from the bottle of water. 

However, I met a part of the big family when we landed in the airport. From there we drove with the rented bus to our hotel, which I can´t complain about. We had lunch, got dressed, and off we went to the wedding.

The wedding was framed in a natural, peaceful scene with trees colored by spotlights. The bride-lean was placed between wood chairs with the altar up front. Besides the altar was the stage for the live band, and behind that, the purified darkness only omitted by the bright light of the bride, who just entered after the entrance of her new husband, surrounded by the anxious gathering.

We all watched happily when the couple kissed each other in joy of the promise they just made. They walked down the lane, getting rice thrown at them from both sides. When the ceremony was done, we were all lead into the amazing hall centered around the wedding cake. To my surprise the cake was fake, and not for cutting. Asking curiously I got told that in Brasilia it´s a tradition not to cut the cake; it´s used for decoration purpose only. However, another cake was served later, so I didn´t miss anything. We ate, danced, and had fun, which pictures displays better than words.

Saturday we all were invited out to an old property of the family. It was a big farm with, primary, horses, and I was told that it housed a lion as well. Not being naive I took it as a joke. First when I asked about it, and the farmer confirmed, I was convinced; it was true. Unfortunately I did not get a view of it since it wasn´t locked up in a case; it was wild.

The churrasco - a cultural way of gathering among family and/or friends to eat a lot of Brazilian beef and to relax - was good, meaning, the food and the company was great. The Brazilian way of spending time together is very relaxing, though you always know that beneath the calm surface is lying a creature far more furious of what you have ever imagined. Hence, the lion was nothing less than the proper animal to have.

I went horseback riding, played pool, and ate a lot.

I am glad that I met the whole family who indeed is nice, and, to my luck,  fulfills my expectations. Thanks to all of them for a wonderful weekend.

I hope you´re doing great wherever you are in the world . View the taken pictures, uploaded in the folder A Weekend and a Wedding in Brasilia.

Furthermore I would like to add that I really love Brazil, and whatever I criticize is in the perspective of my background and home country, which not necessarily means it´s better there.

Thanks for your attention.

I left home Friday night 11:30pm with the AFS exchange students from Rio de Janeiro and Paraty, together with some of their counselors, heading for Iriri in Espírito Santo. The ride took about seven ours, giving me a bumpy nights´ sleep with too many breaks. Hence, all of us arrived tired in Iriri the next day.

I shared room with two brazilian exchange students, and to my big surprise one of them did his exchange year in Denmark; speaking danish. I conversed with him a bit in Danish, and I had another surprise within several minutes, when he told me that he was one out of five. I didn´t know that Denmark was that popular among brazilian youngsters.

The first day went by, making activities of any kind, doing stuff together, and talking. This is the heart of the AFS meetings; to be social with other exchange students, discuss points of view, and develop your vision of other nationalities. Relaxing and interesting. More important, however, is the part where you try to find a solution to your family problems with help from the AFS volunteers.

It was indeed very necessary for some of the exchange students to free their minds for the heavy weight of their problems, which were truly sad. One girl was forgotten by her mom in the mom´s restaurant late at night with all the doors locked - another girl had a native brazilian brother, momentarily exchanging to Canada, which from there wanted to speak with her every day. He even called her classmates to check if she slept during the lessons (which is normally here), if she did her homework and stuff like that; scary.

The day ended with a party, where, as stated earlier, the speaker went dead. Alcohol, however, was only for people over eighteen, which in common was the persons from AFS only. You´re normally not allowed to do an exchange year at the age over eighteen.

The next day we just slept, ate, swam, and enjoyed the weather, before we returned to Rio de Janeiro. Enjoy the pictures.

Finally, after unbelievable long time, we left the building and walked, in my opinion, slower than a snail who just had the best and biggest dinner ever. Right… One cross, opposite sidewalk… Walking… One cross more, left… And we stood in front of the gate. We entered the school and met Regina, the co-coordinator, at the third floor, and after a long talk and presentation of the different teachers, which, to say politely, are indifferent to you, she introduced me to a class:

Everybody looked at me, when I entered the worn, quadratic room. My eyes looked around to memorize the faces of the students whom watched me carefully, but also curiously. Regina began to talk: “This is Frederico…,” but instead of listening I started to analyse my impressions of the room; not noticing a single word she said. The room was very monotonously furnished; no decorations of any kind except from a painting above the blackboard indicating the religious path of the school. The white-gray walls reflected the artificial, basement-blue light from the naked neon tubes, and the fan behind my back made an annoying, repetive sound, making me drawing parallels to my imagination of a danish classroom back in the thirties. My eyes also sensed the yellow marks on the floor, indicating where the small one-man tables, with barely space for your long legs, should be placed.

Regina pushed me in the direction of a free table besides a good-looking girl, and I sat down listening carefully to every spoken word trying to understand; with no luck.

The positive, unfortunately also the negative, attention about me, the danish guy, was huge the first days. It was a bit hard for me to choose between the right and wrong friends, because of the language, but with a useful hint from a well-trusted friend, I managed to pass the period to my satisfaction; as soon as the bad guys found out I did my homework they left me alone. Right now I´m slowly getting integrated.

As the school is different from Denmark so is my schedule. I have 37 lessons each week, and sometimes also school at Saturday - mostly because of the swine flue which delayed the school start two weeks. This is my schedule:

Every day starts at 07:00am with three lessons in a row followed up by the fat line which marks a break of thirty minutes. Some students eat a little while others save the hunger for the warm lunch at home; usually I eat an apple, banana, and a plum. In the schoolyard there are various activities for me to do. Football, volleyball, basketball, and foosball - I play basketball since my friends prefer that, but when it rains we are only allowed to play foosball, so I already had my games. The break ends when the bell rings with a piece of the classic Mozart, Bach, or sometimes even the latest top song from Jonas Brothers (I must admit that I prefer Mozart or Bach), and we all walk crestfallen back to our classes, attending another four hours of teaching.

Tuesday is a special day, because I also have classes in the afternoon. This day I normaly go straight back at home to eat and repack my backpack; I only have one hour from I leave school to the afternoon classes begin, so I don´t have time for anything else. These classes are often the best classes because we´re operating in the laboratories, touching things instead of looking at the blackboard, though I´m not going to deny that it wouldn´t do anything worse if they didn´t exist.

As you may have noticed some of the subjects are divided in two parts. That´s because I have multiple professors for the same subject, which means I don´t make any relations to the professors, much more homework, and more difficult studying because each professor is specialized in a particular subject.

Conclusion: The things that make the school good are the friends only - and I have plenty of opportunities to choose them since we are 39 students in my class, A1.