Back in SAMPA

So I'm not sure, but from what I can tell people actually do refer to Sao Paulo as SAMPA, as opposed to those flower children posers who refer to San Francisco as Sanfran. Well, regardless, I'm staying at the SAMPA hostel, which is located in the unbelievably large metropolis of Sao Paolo (18 million and counting in the metro region).

My "worst" fears of returning here in the dead of "winter" were luckily unfounded: it's not THAT cold (all the warnings I'd had were from Brazilians after all)....so I'm sitting in shorts (and a very smelly t-shirt that should just be burned at this point as no amount of washing seems to ameliorate its unfortunate condition) and it's 8 am in the low 60s...I know...frigid right?

Anyways, so I'm staying in a slightly different part of SAMPA this time, in a different hostel (as my favorite Oca hostel is under renovation, which is very very very sad). I have a very love-hate relationship with hostels. If it's a nice hostel (like the one in Belem or the Oca) it's great; for US $ 12-15 dollars you get a dorm bed, wifi, shower, bad tv, and breakfast (of marginal quality). But it's a "crap shoot" (pardon the expression) as it depends on how many annoying travelers are staying there at the moment, and how thick the hostels walls are...let's just say here in good old SAMPA there are many of the former and the latter is of as much substance as their travel itineraries.



So judging aside...ok judging not aside: this area of Sao Paulo I'm in is insane! It's like a mix between Sanfrancisco (the hills), Berkeley/North Hampton (the funky), Buckhead (the incredible opulence) and I don't know a few other things. It is sooooo far removed from the 17 de Abril settlement it's unbelievable. On one street I walked past a Russian, Morrocan, Indian, Japanese, several artisan pizza restaurants and microbrew pubs a buddhist meditation center and innumerable art galleries, even the grocery store (where I thought I might be able to afford something) was an upscale version of Whole Foods/Trader Joes where I couldn't even afford the bread...



oh well....now it's pouring and unlike the rain in the Amazon which was cathartic and cooling...this feels like that great rain in October at the beach when all you brought is shorts and a t-shirt thinking it would be warm...where's Rag-R-Rama when you need it?