Chapter 3 - The first girlfriend

IN THE FIRST YEAR OF OPERATION of the Vecchio Tour, I was guided by one of the college professors, who was also a great advisor, to participate in the tourist events that would take place that season, so, as soon as some gaps appeared in our very tight schedule, Celso and I we embark on one or two business trips.

We were in Rio de Janeiro to closely follow the Brazil Travel Expo, a business tourism fair that takes place every year in the Marvelous City and that was an important sunny afternoon to make contacts with the most diverse types of people who, like us, they were also involved in the world of travel. Our intention in participating in that fair was to publicize our brand, which at the time was practically unknown to the general public, in addition to networking with those who had been on the road for a longer time.

We were both “green” in many aspects within the business and from the moment we started attending that type of event, a whole new horizon of possibilities opened up in front of us. We met entrepreneurs, owners of other agencies, CEOs of the hospitality sector and several potential clients. We learned a lot of strategies to optimize our services in addition to expanding our marketing and we took the opportunity to discuss a multitude of projects with partners who understood a lot about the area in which we operated, which helped us a lot.

Terms like “networking”, “marketing”, “co-marketing” and “branding” started to become common in our corporate vocabulary and I can say with some confidence that it was after that trip to Rio that we started to take off in business.

Celso and I were celebrating the whole range of knowledge that we would take in our luggage back to São Paulo at a bar in Copacabana and we decided to stretch out a little more in the city in order to take advantage of the pleasant day of high temperature that it was having. From there, we went to an Argentinian steakhouse by the sea and discussed some Vecchio Tour topics while we gorged ourselves on the restaurant's deliciously seasoned meat.

At one point in the conversation, I had noticed a group of kids who were making a lot of noise around one of the tables at the back of the establishment. The place was relatively full that day, it was a Friday, we were on the eve of a long holiday and many people had left home to have fun. From where we were, it was possible to see through the window a part of Copacabana beach and although the night had already begun to fall outside, there were still many regulars enjoying the exuberant sea. One of the girls in that group couldn't take her eyes off our table and as Celso had his back to her, I realized that the gazes were on me.

"Don't look now, but there's one hell of a kitten teasing me back there!"

The girl was really pretty and stood out from the other three who accompanied her at the table of five people. Two young men accompanied them and spoke loudly, in a very characteristic Carioca accent. The conversation wasn't entertaining her much, though, as she kept looking at me now that I'd noticed her.

— The white girl with the curly hair?

Celso turned around at a certain point to find out who I was talking about and at that moment, she whispered something to her friends, who soon noticed us too and started laughing.

— We have to go back to São Paulo early tomorrow, brother — said Celso, now looking at me with an undisguised look of mockery —, but if you want, I'll go back alone and take care of everything there. Such a beauty should not be left adrift. Better hit the boat soon!

I had considered my friend's suggestion and after that, we continued talking normally, but with my eyes always on the table in the back. The girl looked genuinely interested.

The noisy and happy group started to get up to leave the place after paying the bill and I saw the chance to approach. Celso had agreed to go back alone to the hotel where we were staying that night, and as soon as the opportunity arose, I joined the girl. Strategically, she had stayed a little behind her friends as they walked out the door, starting to walk north, which was a clear green light for me.

— Your friends seem to be quite lively.

Our eyes had already crossed and she opened a smile. I was six feet tall and she looked six inches shorter. Her hair was curled in brown curls and fell over her shoulders.

“They really are. They draw attention wherever they go.

It was the first time I had heard her speak and she had a nice tijucano accent.

— Nice to meet you, my name is Ralph.

She stared at me for a second and held out her hand to shake.

— My name is Shanaya.

I was twenty at the time and Shanaya was nineteen. She was originally from Rio de Janeiro, born and raised in Barra da Tijuca and was studying law at FGV, in Botafogo. She was the daughter of a judge from Rio de Janeiro who was quite prestigious in the area and lived in a student dormitory with two of the three colleagues who accompanied her to the restaurant that night. On the way out of the steakhouse, he made a point of introducing me to his five friends and shortly after, they invited me to get to know a little more of the city on an outdoor tour.

The night had already settled over our heads when we decided to sit down in front of the sea to talk and it was then that I got to know a little more about that girl who was as friendly as she was pretty. Through her friends, I learned that she stood out as one of the best students in her law class and that she did everything to honor the expectations that her strict father placed on his only daughter. I also learned that she loved to dance and that she had always wanted to parade through the sambodrome wearing the shirt of her favorite samba school, Unidos da Tijuca.

— I always had a passion for carnival, but my father never let me parade — she looked slightly frustrated — he says that a samba school is not the ideal place for “people like us”.

Shanaya belonged to the Villas Boas family, one of the most traditional in Rio and descended from a family almost entirely made up of judges, judges and lawyers. The Villas Boas were purely elitist and did not tend to mix with the plebs that surrounded them. Everyone in the girl's circle of friends referred to her father as "Your Excellency", in a mocking tone, and she always seemed intimidated every time she mentioned him in conversations.

— Next year, I make a point of bringing you back to Rio just to drag you to the Unidos da Tijuca rehearsals — said Melina, a girl with dark skin and afro hair who was one of her roommates in the republican —, I want to see if your excellent father will be able to stop you from parading in Sapucaí this time!

I had been curious about a detail in that speech by Melina.

— Why “return to Rio”? — I stared at Shanaya for a few moments — Are you intending to leave here?

She was embarrassed, charmingly tucked her hair behind her ear, and replied, sitting there on the sand, barefoot beside me:

— My family and I are going to move to São Paulo at the beginning of next semester.

The friends now had sad faces. She explained.

— My father was called to join the team of the São Paulo Court of Auditors and as it is an offer he cannot refuse, he weighed the pros and cons that involve such a radical change of state for the family and decided to accept. We moved in a few months.

After that pleasant evening in the company of her and her friends by the sea, the two of us exchanged contacts and began to speak regularly via text message and on social networks. Despite the strict, almost military upbringing she had been subjected to most of her life, Shanaya was a very fun girl, as well as being very intelligent. On the cell phone, we spent hours talking about legislation, ethics and morals, then we philosophized about the applications of all that in real life, rarely reaching any conclusion in fact. She had a very innocent way of looking at life, despite all the theoretical knowledge she possessed, and I liked knowing that the study of law had not yet corrupted her true essence.

“You speak as if we law students were evil, creatures from the pits of hell itself…

She told me once, as we watched the night plunge our cities into a dark blue outside our windows. Time seemed to pass slowly for me while I was talking to her on the phone and that had never happened to anyone else before Shanaya.

"Isn't the blood pact you're forced to make as soon as you enter law school true?" The one involving goats, snakes and dwarfs?

I always played that kind of silly lawyer joke with her to piss her off and test her patience, but Shanaya got around my jokes with clever comments, as well as using words in the “legalese” dialect that were way beyond my comprehension, breaking any of my arguments. As I knew I was defeated in the discussions, I replied, still mockingly:

— Data venia!