We were standing in what was described to us as the "press box," ready to capture and transmit Caetano Veloso's concert in real time, when Dilma showed up and the floor began to tremble. My colleague from Atlanta made another comment about the dais holding many more working revelers than the 250 person limit advertised at the entrance. "Let's go take another turn at the buffet table," I said, happy to get a brief respite from the crowd, which was comprised of fewer journalists than government functionaries.

Dilma is an economist and the aspiring next president of Brazil (she'd be the country's first female head of state if elected in the 2010 election). The local scuttlebut is that she doesn't have a snowball's chance in the tropics of winning the election. "She's always angry." "She is not attractive." "She just had plastic surgery and dyed her hair."

This last reason is why the dais was groaning under the weight of everyone who rushed to the platform's far end: regardless of their political affiliations, everyone wanted to see Dilma. Were her wrinkles gone? Were her lips fuller? Were the strands of gray in her hair now rendered invisible by a reddish artificial tint? What was she wearing? Was she thinner or fatter?*

Myself? I was getting fatter, sampling salami, passionfruit, and cheese at the buffet, which was staffed by people no one ever really notices, who no one ever rushes to see. A bit later, the minder found us, lounging on a white leather divan. "We're here because the platform was shaking," said the journalist from Atlanta. "We were worried it might collapse." "Oh, you Americans!" said the minder, laughing. "I just told the tourism director that was why you'd disappeared! You Americans love your safety!"

*
It's true. Americans love safety... especially if they can feel risky AND safe at the same time. It's an observation I've made over and over in my travels. Ducking into a hotel bathroom today, I noticed the lights were out. Never in the States! Someone might be lurking in a stall, waiting to victimize a vulnerable woman. In Recife, lights are out when no one's in the room, (delusional) safety be damned. It's cheaper, it minimizes the burden on overtaxed utility infrastructures, and it's better for the environment. Last month, in St. Kitts, I stood on the edge of a fort perched hundreds of feet above the ground and thought-- "In the States, there would be a fence and a sign warning people against standing on the edge."

There are hundreds of other examples; I'm sure you can think of some yourself.

I wish our Brazilian counterpart could have said, "Oh, you Americans! You love your common sense." But it wouldn't be true. She was right. We love our safety... or at least the illusion of it.

*That's Dilma in the white blouse.