October 2016
On Thursday night I drive my husband to the airport and farewell him as he departs for his journey to São Paolo, where he will attend a conference before joining me in Rio.
I work all day on Friday, then on Saturday morning I attend my Portuguese class. I might as well get that last little bit of language training before heading to Brazil.
Then I set about the job of packing. I've bought a new dress for my performance. It's long and floaty, with lots of sparkles on the front. I roll it carefully to minimise creasing in my suitcase.
My friend Amanda arrives, to help me leave the house and to alleviate my anxiety about locking up. Together we start at one end of the house, checking doors are locked and that power points are switched off.
The taxi arrives and she gives me a big hug. I get into the cab, and now I'm off on my big adventure. As we drive down the street I'm almost holding my breath, mind racing - have I forgotten anything? I force myself to breathe deeply, in and out. The taxi driver provides soothing conversation, and when we arrive at the airport he wishes me a successful trip.
I'm travelling to Brazil "the long way" - Adelaide to Dubai, then Dubai to Rio. Although it's two very long flights (12-14 hours each), it's just the one stop, instead of the two or three that you get if you fly in the other direction. I prefer to stay on the plane instead of sitting in airports.
After a good sleep on the first leg, I board the plane in Dubai feeling quite fresh. We set off for the long flight across Africa and the Atlantic Ocean.
Mid-flight, boredom and fatigue set in, and new anxieties surface. I haven't been able to shake off the cold I got on the way back from the US, and I've started coughing. Will it settle down in the next few days? I can't sing if I'm spluttering.
There is also another niggling concern, too. I'm travelling on a tourist visa. Hopefully I don't need a work visa in order to perform in Brazil? I sought advice from Brazilian lawyer friends. They told me that as long as I am not going to be paid, a tourist visa will be fine. But what if this isn't right? The advice was in the context of a show to benefit a charity, an idea that didn't progress. Are the rules different if it's a public performance in a bar? I've brought a copy of the email, just in case.
Will the venue ask to see my visa? The show is now being publicised - will someone start to ask questions? Will the police be alerted? Will they haul me off the stage?
Or, will I be refused entry to Brazil? What if they've got my poster, and I'm on a watch-list? They will ask me questions at Immigration, and I will be seized and taken away for interrogation. Then I will be ignominiously deported. They will send me back to Australia on the next available flight - at my own expense.
The truth is, by the time our show was confirmed, there really was no time to investigate a work visa. No doubt the processing time is longer than for a tourist visa, and more questions would be asked. What if they refused my request, or it could not be provided in time? Plus, when I went onto the Brazil Visas web site, there was no option to apply for an Entertainment Visa such as we have in Australia.
I'm hoping that Brazil has bigger fish to fry than me.
The captain announces our descent, and soon the plane touches down.
"Welcome to Rio de Janeiro, where the current temperature is 27 degrees".
Exhausted from the long flight, I wheel my cabin bag into the airport. I half expect to see my poster with a "Wanted" sign across it.
I stagger towards Passport Control. Really, there is no similarity at all between the glamorous creature portrayed on my poster and this bedraggled wretch stumbling along in baggy sweatpants, dark circles under bleary eyes that peek out through strong spectacles. But if I am really "wanted", I guess digital technology will "out" me.
Wearily, I hand over my passport, and breathe, unsmiling.
"Tourist?" asks the officer.
"Yes", I say, in Portuguese. It's true - I intend to have a very good look around Rio.
He stamps my passport and hands it back to me.
I shuffle through the gate and follow the signs towards the baggage area.
I'm back in Brazil.
On Thursday night I drive my husband to the airport and farewell him as he departs for his journey to São Paolo, where he will attend a conference before joining me in Rio.
I work all day on Friday, then on Saturday morning I attend my Portuguese class. I might as well get that last little bit of language training before heading to Brazil.
Then I set about the job of packing. I've bought a new dress for my performance. It's long and floaty, with lots of sparkles on the front. I roll it carefully to minimise creasing in my suitcase.
My friend Amanda arrives, to help me leave the house and to alleviate my anxiety about locking up. Together we start at one end of the house, checking doors are locked and that power points are switched off.
The taxi arrives and she gives me a big hug. I get into the cab, and now I'm off on my big adventure. As we drive down the street I'm almost holding my breath, mind racing - have I forgotten anything? I force myself to breathe deeply, in and out. The taxi driver provides soothing conversation, and when we arrive at the airport he wishes me a successful trip.
I'm travelling to Brazil "the long way" - Adelaide to Dubai, then Dubai to Rio. Although it's two very long flights (12-14 hours each), it's just the one stop, instead of the two or three that you get if you fly in the other direction. I prefer to stay on the plane instead of sitting in airports.
After a good sleep on the first leg, I board the plane in Dubai feeling quite fresh. We set off for the long flight across Africa and the Atlantic Ocean.
Mid-flight, boredom and fatigue set in, and new anxieties surface. I haven't been able to shake off the cold I got on the way back from the US, and I've started coughing. Will it settle down in the next few days? I can't sing if I'm spluttering.
There is also another niggling concern, too. I'm travelling on a tourist visa. Hopefully I don't need a work visa in order to perform in Brazil? I sought advice from Brazilian lawyer friends. They told me that as long as I am not going to be paid, a tourist visa will be fine. But what if this isn't right? The advice was in the context of a show to benefit a charity, an idea that didn't progress. Are the rules different if it's a public performance in a bar? I've brought a copy of the email, just in case.
Will the venue ask to see my visa? The show is now being publicised - will someone start to ask questions? Will the police be alerted? Will they haul me off the stage?
Or, will I be refused entry to Brazil? What if they've got my poster, and I'm on a watch-list? They will ask me questions at Immigration, and I will be seized and taken away for interrogation. Then I will be ignominiously deported. They will send me back to Australia on the next available flight - at my own expense.
The truth is, by the time our show was confirmed, there really was no time to investigate a work visa. No doubt the processing time is longer than for a tourist visa, and more questions would be asked. What if they refused my request, or it could not be provided in time? Plus, when I went onto the Brazil Visas web site, there was no option to apply for an Entertainment Visa such as we have in Australia.
I'm hoping that Brazil has bigger fish to fry than me.
The captain announces our descent, and soon the plane touches down.
"Welcome to Rio de Janeiro, where the current temperature is 27 degrees".
Exhausted from the long flight, I wheel my cabin bag into the airport. I half expect to see my poster with a "Wanted" sign across it.
I stagger towards Passport Control. Really, there is no similarity at all between the glamorous creature portrayed on my poster and this bedraggled wretch stumbling along in baggy sweatpants, dark circles under bleary eyes that peek out through strong spectacles. But if I am really "wanted", I guess digital technology will "out" me.
Wearily, I hand over my passport, and breathe, unsmiling.
"Tourist?" asks the officer.
"Yes", I say, in Portuguese. It's true - I intend to have a very good look around Rio.
He stamps my passport and hands it back to me.
I shuffle through the gate and follow the signs towards the baggage area.
I'm back in Brazil.
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