“Peru has Mario Vargas Llosa. Colombia has Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Mexico has Carlos Fuentes. I am so tired of Brazil: only samba, beach and sex. We have nothing intellectual!” the girl at the check-out counter at Belem Library complained.
“It’s not that bad,” I began. One of her eyebrows rose in anticipation. “You have Paulo Coelho.”
We both burst into laughter simultaneously. If one of us hadn’t been the librarian, everyone else would have told us to shut up.