Entering Jardim Botânico

   Once we finished basking in the pulsing rhythm of the waters hitting the jagged rocks, we returned once more to the blithe, orange van, to continue the rest of our journey. Just as our jocund and effusive guide turned the ignition and assertively pulled the gear, he told us we would next be visiting the famed Jardim Botânico which would take at least two hours to visit.

        My mother and father smiled at each other excitedly, each having an admirable passion for the Plantae kingdom, which I unfortunately did not share. Now, please do not mistake me, but I suppose I haven't planted a sufficient amount of seeds or deweeded thick undergrowth enough to deeply appreciate their lovely, cleansing existence as yet.

         But, that doesn't mean I wasn't excited about going to Jardim Botânico. After all, before starting for Brazil, I'd read somewhere that it was home to a tremendous variety of plants, having over 8000 plant species.  I imagined what a spectacular and multifarious show of green we were soon to witness, when we finally stopped before a stony, grey parking lot a short distance away from Jardim Botânico. When we finally found the entrance, I was greeted by the pleasant sight of a long, reddish brown pathway that snaked to the right of a formidable white building, with strong but elegant columns.  However, before we could begin walking down the inviting pathway, which was ensconced in the arms of luscious foliage, we had yet to purchase our tickets.

  Evandro laughed heartily at our predicament while cheerily declaring that I would be the one purchasing them using my Spanish. I was actually pretty nervous about speaking to a local Brazilian in my schoolbook Spanish, having little to no experience outside a classroom. I slowly walked towards the counters, dreading the simple exchange that was to come. What if I did my best to communicate our intentions, and the woman at the desk would just stare blankly back at me, not comprehending? This was it. I had finally stood directly before the main ticket stand. Evandro promised to step in if I didn't make any sense.

   Pulling in a deep breath, I quietly mumbled to the dark-skinned woman selling the tickets, "Gustariamos cuatro billetes por favor." Surprisingly enough, my pronounciation must not have been as terrible I thought, for she warmly smiled and handed me four long, white strips of paper.

  I continued onward with my group, a little proud of the wad of white papers in my pocket. I think I was going to enjoy Jardim Botânico.