Today, I played soccer with my Brazilian neighbors. The only *ahem* interesting aspect of the game was it was not on grass, but on sand, which apparently is routine down here, but I was not used to it. I guess I felt like any tennis player playing on an untried surface or anyone else who might need to get adjusted new terrain. Is this my metaphor for an American abroad? The exercise was manageable except when I tried to slow an attack, and sand, not having my familiar level of friction, betrayed my footing and I took a dive. Additionally, I was wearing shoes, which may not have been the wisest choice of footwear. (barefoot=better grip) Oh well. Meanwhile, the parade of gastronomic experiences continues. The last couple days I have been going the "Spiche Restaurante," a place that offers healthy (not so processed) food. The dollar exchanges to about two reais (or is it reals?) nowadays, which makes eating out as an American really affordable. (The ATM is where they get you.) It is also home to a very well balanced and addictive lemonade; the drink has the right amount of foam and just enough sugar to leave a crystalline trace clinging to the sides of the glass after the liquids have been drained.