The World Cup

So, I don't really care about sports, but once every four years, I go crazy. I care deeply and passionately about the World Cup, as some of you have picked up on in light of my recent highly-emotional facebook updates. I learned at a very young age that, as a Brazilian, I must care about the World Cup, I must watch every game, I must cheer against Argentina, I must hate France, I must know every player's name, I must scream when Brazil scores, and I must cry when someone- anyone- scores (or almost scores) against Brazil.

It is because of the World Cup that the world knows where my country is.

Around the world people have said to me, "Oh, Brazil! The kings of soccer!" And I always reply, with a warm smile, "Yes, that's right. No one loves soccer more than Brazilians." And it's true. It's the country's sport. And if you go to Brazil, you better understand that Brazilians believe it is our sport. (Also- just a head's up- if you happen to think that some Argentine can be compared to any Brazilian, you better keep your mouth shut. Actually, you better not go to Brazil.)

After Brazil's somewhat unnerving game with North Korea today, I tried to talk to some American friends about the World Cup. Big mistake. They were like, "So what? It's just a sport." Well. Not a cool thing to say to a Brazilian. You see, soccer is not just a sport for Brazil. It's all we have. Other than big butts in thongs on the beach and our red meat, it's all people really know us for around the world. And it's the only thing we're all really proud of. There's dignity in being known as the champions of a sport that the world competes in. There's pride in knowing we are a legend. There's immeasurable joy in seeing our country making history happen.

Most of the time, I regret to admit, I'm not that proud to be Brazilian when I'm outside of Brazil. I have a couple of Brazil t-shirts, and I never wear them. I used to wear them when I first moved here, I thought it would be a good conversation starter. And it was- except the conversations were usually started by males and, at some point, they would say, "So is it true all Brazilians have a Brazilian wax?" or "Wow, you're Brazilian? That's so hot." Which, hard as it may be to believe, is not exactly what I wanted to hear.

One time, I got a job babysitting for an American woman and once she found out I was Brazilian she gave me a really evil stare, and then proceeded to tell me that a Brazilian had stolen her husband. That's the other thing we're known for. Stealing husbands. Great.

At one point I was complaining about all this to an American friend who had done quite a bit of traveling herself, and she said, "Well at least people don't think you're ignorant, rude, and bad in bed. Don't you think it's better that people assume you're sexy and good in bed?" I didn't quite know how to explain to her that no, it was not better. Our cages were shaped differently, perhaps, but they were cages all the same.

So I stopped saying I'm Brazilian. I didn't want the profile that came with it attached to me upon first meeting people. I didn't want them thinking "Easy", "Good in Bed", "Husband Stealer", "Super Waxed", etc. It took too much energy to try to re-educate people, and I certainly wasn't interested in pretending to be a boring nun so as to not be associated with the usual stereotypes. They just didn't have to know. Case closed.

But then there's soccer.

The World Cup rolls around and I proudly sport my Brazil shirts, bandanas, sunglasses, nail polish, flip flops, flags, and, most importantly, spirit. It's the one time, every four years, when I'm super proud to be Brazilian. When it doesn't matter what else people think of me or my country or the women in my country, I'm still part of a nation that has won five World Cups, the leading country in soccer, the legend of the game. I walk around knowing I am part of something important, something that makes people pay attention to our talents, not just our asses. For just a little while, the world looks at Brazil in awe. We are worth their time. We deserve their respect.

It is the most watched sporting event in the world, bigger than the Superbowl, the U.S. Open, or the Olympics. It's impossible not to be proud of your country when they win a game. The world is watching, and we know it.

The first world cup I remember watching is the 1994 one held in the U.S., which Brazil won. I was 9 years old, and I remember very little of it, but what I remember most is how the whole city stopped to watch every game. There was no one on the streets. People were excused from work. You couldn't even get a taxi cab. Every single Brazilian was gathered in front of a TV screen, crying if Brazil lost, crying even harder if Brazil won.

So yeah, I take the World Cup seriously. I've seen its power to unite and bring light to a nation. I'm gonna watch every game I can. I'm gonna cheer for my country and against the countries that threaten our title (or even just the ones we're notorious for not liking...). I'm gonna write about it on facebook- all. the. time. I'm gonna wear my Brazil t-shirt everywhere and paint my nails green and say "Woo Hoo!" when people yell out "Yeah Brazil!" at me on the street. I'm gonna let the world know I'm Brazilian, because this is a time when I'm proud of what my country has achieved. I'm proud to be part of this country that draws millions of people together to watch our legendary team play. I'm proud to represent excellence and achievement.

I'm proud of Brazil.

I'm going to scream every time we score. Listen, and you'll hear screams around the world.