3 Cultural Shocks in Brazil

3 Cultural Shocks in Brazil

I have been living in an exotic country for seven years now—a land of samba, parrots, toucans, monkeys, and hummingbirds. The nature in Brazil is unbelievably beautiful, and I could write an entire article about it, but today I want to talk about culture. When we travel to another country—or even move there for a longer time—we have to come to terms with cultural differences.

There were certainly many cultural shocks. Brazilian culture is vastly different not only from Czech culture but from European culture in general. I’ve lived in several European countries, even in Spain, where people are passionate, but nothing compares to the culture shock I experienced in Brazil. I think I could write an entire book about it. It was really hard to pick just three, but I chose the three most significant ones that I still deal with today. I’ll definitely write about more in future articles.

1. “I think so” and “can be” both mean NO!

This was probably the biggest shock. When I first arrived in Brazil in 2011, I didn’t speak much Portuguese. I tried to understand by using my Spanish knowledge. I printed a Brazilian Portuguese textbook that—while telling me that São Paulo is full of smog—didn’t teach me the most basic thing: what YES and NO mean. The Portuguese phrase “acho que sim” Google translate renders as “I think so,” which to me sounded like 90% yes; “pode ser” translates as “could be,” which I interpreted as yes. It took months of waiting for someone and facing disappointment before I realized that both expressions actually mean NO.

Brazilians don’t like to say “não” (= no) because they don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings. From my perspective, it’s not about protecting someone’s feelings—they just don’t want to deal with it. They don’t want to see someone upset because of them.

Trying to figure out how to know if someone is reliable, I eventually learned that even “sim” (= yes) often means “maybe,” about 50%. So if you ask me now what “yes” means here, after seven years in this country, I still don’t know how to answer. When I’m coordinating something with someone who has lived in or been to Europe, I ask whether it’s a Brazilian yes or a real yes. They often laugh and then tell me “yes”—don’t worry—meaning about 80%. My conclusion is that there is no 100% yes here. No one will say “no,” but they’ll wrap it in phrases like “yeah,” “why not,” “sure,” “definitely,” “maybe,” or even “yes.” If they don’t want to come or something else comes up, they simply don’t show up. When you later ask why, they invent excuses (“my mom felt sick and I had to take her to the hospital,” “I had to work”) and no one can blame them.

2. Instant classification of people: “He’s a good person”

When a Brazilian starts talking about someone—whether it’s a friend, professor, employer, or someone they recommend to fix your washing machine—one of the first things they’ll say is “‘é uma boa pessoa’,” meaning “they’re a good person.”

We don’t do that. If I start telling someone about my friend Martin, I’d say something like he’s funny, we’ve known each other since childhood, or he’s a photographer. I would never emphasize that he’s a “good person.” It’s kind of understood otherwise he wouldn’t be my friend.

At first, I didn’t pay much attention. But after experiencing numerous betrayals, lies, and so-called “backstabbing,” I understood why. There are many people who will take advantage of you for their own benefit. The fact that I’m a woman and a foreigner from wealthy Europe increases the chance that I might be taken advantage of—nobody has a clue about the average salary in the Czech Republic or how much I lag behind Germany. Nowadays, when I need to know a price, I ask my Brazilian boyfriend to check.

Brazilians have the habit of immediately stating whether someone is a “good person.” Services here are largely based on recommendations. If you’re told you can rely on someone for a service, that you won’t pay and they won’t disappear in the favela never to be seen again, you can feel a little more confident.

Don’t think I’m saying all Brazilians are deceitful and untrustworthy. I’ve met many fair and kind people here whom I deeply respect. But from my perspective, in Brazil you need to stay alert, and Brazilians know this. So they categorize people immediately. The first thing you hear about someone is whether they are considered a “good person.”

3. A type of romantic relationship without commitment

This cultural shock I only fully understood after a long time. There is a certain type of romantic relationship here referred to by the verb ficar, which literally means “to stay.” The person you’re ficando with is called a ficante—a term Google Translate doesn’t even know how to convert.

A ficante is someone you spend time with when you feel like it. Sometimes a ficante becomes a boyfriend or girlfriend, if the man asks for a formal relationship (pedir namoro). Sometimes one ficante finds someone else and ends “the relationship.” Sometimes you’re kept on as a backup plan.

There are special rules for a ficante. On one hand, a ficante has no responsibilities like a boyfriend or girlfriend; on the other hand, they also have no privileges. A ficante doesn’t get birthday or holiday gifts, isn’t introduced to family or friends, and doesn’t appear in social media photos. You can have multiple ficantes, but people don’t usually talk about them. Being a ficante doesn’t always mean sex—you might go to the movies, beach, or for a walk and munch popcorn.

There’s a blogger here who makes incredible money advising women: Don’t be stupid, value yourself, and don’t spend months or years as a ficante. Her advice: three months is the maximum. If a man hasn’t asked you to formally become his girlfriend, don’t get your hopes up. She recommends not giving gifts, not introducing him to your family, and not fantasizing about a shared future. She mentions that there is no such thing as ficando sério—a serious but casual relationship. It’s like being someone’s exclusive ficante but not their partner. It can all become dramatic and deceptive. Let’s face it, South American telenovelas are based on truth.

This ficante concept doesn’t work for me. I don’t understand how I could fall in love with someone who may date many other women. If I meet someone I like and there’s a spark, I prefer to invest time getting to know them better rather than dating other potential partners.

When my now-boyfriend and I were on our third date (three days in a row), I blew up at him: “I’m not playing this Brazilian ficante game. You’re attractive to me, but I’m not joining your harem. Either you give up your harem and we see where this goes, or we’ll just be friends.” For Brazilians, that kind of honesty must have been quite a shock. For my boyfriend, it was refreshing—and he was glad no telenovela would follow. A week later, he officially asked me to be his girlfriend. He still laughs today: “You won’t join a harem, haha?”

If you decide to begin a relationship with a Brazilian, make sure you’re not just one of many ficantes. And if you’re not looking for a relationship and just want to have fun, enjoy the ficando arrangement. I’ll leave that up to you.

I could write hours about cultural differences in Brazil. Some are irritating to my nature, some I’ve gotten used to, and some I’ve embraced (like learning to be late—when you’re always waiting on someone, you eventually adapt!). We don’t have to adopt another culture’s habits. I personally never allowed being someone’s ficante because it’s not who I am. But it’s essential to be aware of cultural norms, so we don’t become their victim. This article is my first on Brazilian culture, and it certainly won’t be the last—look forward to more.

If you plan to stay abroad for an extended period, I recommend trying intercultural coaching. Learn more here.

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Authored by Pavla Bělostíková, MSc.