Entry 111, July 9th, 2011, 11:02pm (GMT +2)
Earlier today, just before flag parade . . .
I'm standing next to a silent, hulking giant of a man who is holding a Brazilian flag. I'm holding the Turkish flag. He seems new, so I decide to strike up a conversation.
I point at his flag, and then look up at his chest.
"Nice, man. You know, I bet you could even pass for a Brazilian guy."
His head swivels around towards me. I can practically hear the gears grinding in his neck.
"I . . . am . . . Brazilian."
His head turns back with a click. Awkward silence.
"Ahh. Well, that's probably why."