Brazil Blog

Brazil-My Second Wind

2010-05-26T19:44:00.000-07:00

We all tire from the routine, the tedious and repetitive schedule that takes us through the weary day to day. At some point, everyone feels like life is a business and every choice is a calculated move to advance forward on some vague trajectory to some uncertain destination. The exhaustion is not for lack of energy or soul-but rather, lack of innovation. You have begun to let your role define you, and you are contented to sit silently by the thousand melting faces on the 5 train at 8am. And even if you like your life, love is a lot to say.

Even I, after 20 years, feel this exhaustion. Given the chance, I'd quit it all and sing. I'd drink orange juice with the pulp, ride a horse down the beach and a boat down the amazon. I was given the chance-but more than that-I was the agent of my opportunity. There are some responsibilities you should never drop-like your principles, your children, love-but if you see yourself as only a combination of all your current concerns, you are denying yourself the imagination of your soul. There are beautiful things in this world that you will never see with closed eyes. If I've learned anything on this trip, it's how to leave my identity open to interpretation.

There are little things and grandiose things. Like watching a tiny light rise out of a dead ant, it's hard to express which is which. As long as you let it thrill you, you know you're living. I was always afraid my personality was too open to ever become someone, but now I realize that I'm not as empty as I thought. I am filled with all of these experiences, I've consumed it all and my belly swells from the yin yang. It is a beautiful thing. I am not lost because this is where I'm supposed to be-anywhere. I could be in Atlanta, or Spain, or Mexico or right in the heart of Harlem and it won't distort my image.

But there was something particularly intense about the beauty of Brazil. The heat evaporates your thoughts and the colors incaptivate your mind. You could spend a century looking at a flower. Filled my every moment. All the reflection I've done in Brazil is on these blogs-here are my only dead moments where I tried desperately to explain to you how alive I am. When you are in a foreign country, you have a tendency to unravel yourself and fill all your days and enjoy everything. There are so many memories spinning through my head-so many that didn't fit into words or pictures. The sound of their voices, the inflection and the passion-I can never give you on the page.

The last day with them, I wrote this excerpt in my diary:

"The rain clouds welled up in my head and I was naucious from the weight of anxiety. A definite farewell is an entity that can not be summed up by the individual's experience with emotion, it becomes an astral body that overwhelms every encounter in the time-space continuoum that the original human source had touched. There are corners we frequented, where we purchased a newspaper once or twice, that miss the presence of our soles.

On this day, we are more conscious of our selves. But this consciousness does not create a vanity, rather it allows us to observe the spirit of our touch and the ripples we've created. I hear the finality of every step, and in this moment that i turn to you, I am really turning backwards. Looking in your eyes, I am already reminiscing. I am quietly memorizing the tears on your face so that I can hold them in my other home. In a moment, the world is still but for the sound of a door closing and another opening. The first I closed with my goodbye, the second is us arriving to the moment we are in now-abstracted from our corperal limitations to experience a definite farewell. It is an experience that brings us out of our worlds because it is not us-it only includes us. In this moment, we are as abstract as the concept of friendship, which we never considered sitting on the shade sharing fruit from the same tree.

Whats more is the emotion swells like tides. It is relentless. It is overbearing-much like your favorite song playing at the right moment quietly in the distance-you did not will it and it moves you. We are vulnerable, but blind to the other's vulnerability under the weight of loss. I had so many things to say that disappear into this loss. Yesterday we spoke about the trips we could have taken and never did. Today we wonder why we did not stay like this forever, greedily consuming the other's presence. The farewell is so intrusive that I do not know if you love me or it. The concrete emotion is so overbearing that I don't mind looking that possibility in the face. Touch me one last time, and I will memorize your touch forever. The pain is an incredible testimony to the helplessness of loving. In love, we are reminded of the interrelatedness of solitary thinking beings. 'There is something about the light of departure that reveals the true essence of things.'"

But after it all, they disappear leaving only echoes in my consciouness.I appreciate this experience from intro to conclusion, everything that hurt me and everything that rocked my world. I've never been touched so deeply. From Terra Vermelha to the Amazon river, from city to country, seas to stars, rain to sunshine, love to disdain-the tears, the laughter, the joy, the pain, the music, the poetry and the vulgar humanity, thank you for reminding me that I am my agent of change and my final destination. Everything comes full circle inside myself. I love you.

Beijos e Abraços do Brasil,
Agora i para sempre
Vou lembrar Vcs

Com tudo carinho i amor

-Nicoli Brown,
Sua Morena Americana

Flora, Fauna and Wild Animals

2010-05-12T07:46:00.000-07:00

It is what you would have thought. An acre of land here can hold thousands of species of trees. I am sure there are species that have existed since prehistoric time and wood that is unique to this area alone. There are so many uses of the bark, the sap , the fruit , the flowers-herbal, healing, taste, color and even magical reasons. In Steven’s(one of the staff from the program grounds we were staying on) backyard, we found a tree that was a hallucinogen more powerful than peyote. And not illegal. We entered the jungle and I was damned happy I decided to wear long pants and long sleeves. This was the bug trap, spiders, flies, mosquitoes, snakes, turtles-and not all of them safe. This was that place where if you step wrong, you might be taking your last step. Of course we went with a guide.
(Rubber Trees-Back in the 1800's, rubber was the Brazil's main crop and it ruled the market. An englishman came to the amazon and stole the rubber plant so that it could be planted in other places. Now, Malaysia owns the rubber market because it was found that the soil there was optimal. These days Brazil uses their rubber to make condoms and doctor's gloves)
(she doesn't look safe, and she isn't. This baby's venom is deadly)
Yet the fruit was beyond delightful. I enjoyed tastes I never knew existed. Combinations of sweet and sour I don’t have a basis of comparison to explain. Many of them had native Indian names and were difficult to remember. I tried whichever ones didn’t have bugs in them.
(Copo Sul: Taste and Texture? Tropical...I have no basis of comparison really)
(Brazil Nuts-How Brazil got her name. LOL)

Inside of Steven’s little museum, he showed us ancient artifacts, spices and paintings of the amazon. I was especially interested in this one artifact that Steven introduced as a petrified breast of an Amazonian Indian woman. He then recounted the tale of the Amazon woman-where Amazonas got it’s name:
When the Spanish and Portuguese settlers landed here, they were enchanted by the tall, beautiful dark skinned women with long hair running naked through the jungle. These women took care of themselves, hunted, fished and killed for themselves-they were independent and wild. It is said that the Amazon women would cut of one of their breasts so that they could mount a bow and arrow properly without the hindrance of a boob as they were aiming. It’s ancient history now, so I can’t prove it but at the very least, I bet you they were pretty hardcore.
Later, we went to another churrasco, but I barely ate anything….I was still afraid since the last time I went to a churrasco and ate till I almost puked.

The last day, Geli, Caleb and I went to a local zoo that was filled with beautiful and interesting jungle animals. The monkeys were crazy. It’s insane how ugly some of their little faces are and how when they looking at you, you really feel like they’re looking at you. Like a human, we went by the gate and they shook our hands. They all wanted our attention. One of the females didn’t like me cuz her man was looking at me and jerking off so she kept trying to pull my hair when I walked by. If she was let out that cage, she def would have gotten my ass. And I wasn’t trying to lose my face like that poor woman who got her face attacked by that pet monkey in the states.
(this was the evil one)

The birds were weird to…the parrots were quite for a long time, but when I went to walk away and yelled “Tchau!” they all yelled “Tchau!!” I turned back and I swear I had a regular conversation with a hundred little birds. Caleb was loving every second of it because he’s into the biology thing. He said he could have stayed their forever admiring these animals.
(How pretty is a real toucan!)
I apparently agitated the porcupine, and if I didn't back away she would have shot her poisonous spikes at me. All did was walk next to her!
This funny little face is of a sloth! The symbol of the amazon...they call the Pregisas. They are slow in the trees and supersonic in the water...very funny to look at up close. Something cute and ugly at the same time. This one was hurt and was being domesticated, so he was safe to pick up. He's very scared and he uses his two little claws to find something to hold on to on you so that he doesn't fall. He then wraps his little legs around you.
But the panther was the most beautiful of all, she is calm when unprovoked. But she is a wild animal. You know, we never really do get a full concept of how wild this animals are when we see them in the zoo. Imagine if you were in their hood, how would they see you? Anyways, she was beautiful. We would have like to stay and admire these creatures forever, but eventually we had to leave to feed the little creatures in our stomachs.

In the Amazon

2010-05-07T22:48:00.000-07:00

When you have a dream, know that it is a dream and that reality is always more vivid. Who knows which you will like better-when I dreampt of the Amazon, some 10-12 years ago, all I saw was green- I imagined it was where the world began. In truth, I went to the Amazons with a heavy heart, filled with the pain of walking away from all of my friends and family in Vila Velha.
The more you love, the more you feel this weight on your heart. I have really learned to live in the moment-the entire time in the airport, everyone was teary eyed and emotional minus myself. Yet when I crossed the other side of the airport and could not see them anymore, it was a waterworks. The fact that I was leaving did not set in until I literally could not see them anymore. My emotion has become so complex and circumstantial-on the way to the Amazons I had the longing to be with my boyfriend, family and friends in Espiritu Santo, the desire to return to my real family back in the states and the intense curiosity to see what was going to come next and what new culture I was walking into now. This mixed with the overwhelming fact that my program was coming to an end.

It was humid in Santarem, Para. The state borders the state of Amazonas and shares the thick jungle and the Amazon river. By the port in front of where we were staying, clear blue water of the Tapajos meets the dark brown waters of the Amazon river. The Amazon is dark and brown because of all the sediment that mixes around as it flows.
It was not a hot hellhouse in the middle of nowhere where I was devoured by mosquitoes or attacked by monkeys. I stayed in a nice air conditioned dormitory with no bugs, a kitchen staff and a washer. Damn your stereotypes!
There again were a barrage of moments that could not be fully and rightfully explained in a blog entry, but my favorite moment was certainly with Geli’s beautiful family riding in a barge down the Amazon. Can you imagine? We ate shrimp, feijao torpedo(an African style dish that is very popular in northern Brazil that included meat and sausage) and we had cake for desert. We fished over the side of the boat and I didn’t catch anything-but they caught catfish and pirana. (Yes, I thought of Lara Croft) I napped on a hammock and let the wind rock me to sleep. It was beautiful to say the least.
(Feijao torpedo, rice with farofa...beans mixed in with pork and pork fat for the taste, it's an african dish that has become a stapl in Brazil)
(The dude who mans the boat coat a catfish, and a couple of Geli's family members caught some piranhas...i didn't catch anything, but fish kept eating my meat. They kept telling me to stop nourishing the fish so they could catch something.)
You can not swim to the Amazon river around here for many reasons…it is deep, there are sharks and piranas and other stuff. There may be other places where you can swim in it, but here we swam in the Tapajos, played water volley ball and a little bit of soccer on the beach Brazillians wear me out, man. It was an incredible day and my favorite experience was here because, like my mother, I love the sea-I could lay in a hammock overlooking the water my whole life.

Goodbye, Cadec.

2010-05-07T17:36:00.000-07:00

And after my speech Luiz raised his hand to talk. He said he had something to say to. He asked me to come close and told me in my ear, I love you Tia Nicoli. Vivia cried, Stefani smiled big and gave me one last STRAWBERRY!(I taught her to say it in English a while back) Even bad boy Samuel asked me to come back. Luiz was a bad one too, but he made sure always to let me know I was his favorite teacher (course, Tia Nicoli is cool!)I felt bad I didn’t get him a picture of Maracana (the number one soccer stadium in all of Brazil), when I went. He was confused we were leaving-not outwardly displaying anger or sadness, but genuinely confused. It must have felt like everything was cut so short.
Anyway, we spent our last day in Cadec like we tend to spend on chill days, playing games and eating snacks and running around and making a mess. On these days I am like a child with responsibilities. They taught me a game I really liked, it was pick fruta-you have one person who’s it and they run around chasing everybody and you have to scream a fruit and bend down to not get tagged. But you cant say the same fruit twice and it has to be a fruit (of course I said tomato to mess with their heads, lol) It was also a great game cuz it reminded me of all the tropical fruits I came into contact with over there. Eliza, one of the morning kids, had a really hard time. After she ate the cake that Daniel and Geli bought for the class, it was very difficult for her to go home. She cried-the kind of tears that you see when you know a person is really trying to hold it back. I hate these tears. We let her stay a little longer just because, and then I had to say goodbye to my little woman. She’s always been my little trooper helping me out with everything. She got on her friends bike and road into the dirt street. In my heart I thought, I will never see her again.
The second shift was hard as well. I don’t know if I already told you, but I had taught 3 of my afternoon girls the hand game “Tweety Baby” and we play it almost every day now. I mean, even the boys got into it. It’s fun for them to guess what the words are, some of them have actually gotten pretty good. Stefani, Brunna, Vivia and I-we played the last day like we always do. But I wanted to teach a few others so I told Brunna to hold on a second. She got mad-she wanted me all to herself the last day. I understood that but, there were so many of them to say goodbye to. The other girls forgave me and said goodbye, but Brunna never did. Geli told me later that one of the little boys came up to her as we were leaving and said that every night he has a dream he is waking up and I am not there. In his dream he runs to his dad and asks “Where is Tia?’ This will always haunt me, more so because I don’t know who it was who had the dream.
As we were walking out, we turn to Cadec and all the staff and scream goodbye and we love you. All the kids wave at the gate. Brunna climbed to the top of the gate and screamed “E nunca volte!”(And never come back!) I smiled and said under my breath, I love you too, Brunna. Goodbye, Cadec.

Pao de Acucar-Sugar Loaf

2010-05-04T12:05:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen the view over Sugar loaf in Rio? I almost forgot to show you some of the images from the top of this major tourist spot. It's sugar loaf and corcovado that are the two most famous spots in Rio. We took the skytram thingy(I forgot what you call it) up to the top of these mountains where hundreds of tourists are snapping photos of one of the most beautiful sights in the world. It is difficult to describe so I will just show you the photos. The shots are of the beaches of copacabana, ipanema and every other paradise you've heard of in a Tom Jobim song.
I have to admit I was a little afraid, the ride up was shaking and we were crazy high. There is something tantalizingly frightful of being in a little craft over a mountain and knowing that if it crashed it would be the end of you and everyone in there. But it wouldn't have been the first time I've done something here that scared the crap out of me. I mean, I climbed a mountain in chucks without a strap, I walked up a waterfall and ran into a venemous snake, road on the back of a pickup truck zipping down the highway-I think I can deal with a little heights. Man, yall can not call me a girly girl after this trip.

Can you see Corcovado there in the background up on the hill? The clouds in the back made it even more dramatic.

Me in my "Brazil's gunna win the world cup" shirt. It only sucks that I'm not going to see it. On the right side of me is our friend Nilze who came down from Santarem on business with Daniel. Boa gente.

Caleb couldn't find his toothbrush and toothpaste and he found it in his pants on this trip. Vagabond.
We found some monkeys fighting in the trees and I wanted to take a picture bc they were actually the first monkeys I found here! I put my foot in the picture to prove that I was there and that homie was crazy close. So many normal things here, like monkeys and bats all up in the trees...still take me a while to get use to.

Medo de Perder

2010-04-30T11:40:00.001-07:00

As I walk away, I am soo afraid to lose you
so afraid, so afraid I walk away.
In your eyes
is every day we've spent together
every day we walked away
from life
in your eyes
so green and blue for me
as I walk
as I walk away to the horizon
In my dreams, there's only you
you are in my dreams
all my dreams
you're in me and I'm in you.
When you're not there
and walk away, I cry.
As I back
I back away
a tear slips into time
into the day
into the day
thats yours and mine
as I walk away.
And when I close my eyes
you fly away
you fly into the sky
you fly away, fly far far away
you fly into the sky.
So I walk away, walk walk away
and leave it all behind.
I walk away
far far far away
to get you off my mind.
Until the day
I walk away
walk walk away
and you are right behind.

Close close close close close close close close

Churrasco(BBQ)

2010-04-30T10:27:00.000-07:00

They all came out. The whole clinic, Gaby, Amanda, Nando, Faby and everyone we could have imagined came out to our last bbq to celebrate our time here and say our last goodbyes. This was the sunday before we left for the amazons, it was real fun. Christopher and Vinissus, though they are not in this picture cuz they had left by this time, were the first to Brazillians we met in Brazil. The first day we got here, they brought us around town-I with Christopher and Caleb with Vinissus-to teach us the bus system and show us around. We spoke nothing of Portuguese-it was hillarious. Chris was trying to follow my spanish. We did not see them for the next three months, so I have to say, it was pretty rewarding to see the show up in the end at this party. It was also rewarding to be able to actually have a full conversation with them!

We ate, we sang and danced and drank and said goodbye. It was a beautiful goodbye that I will always appreciate and remember. I got to say goodbye to my little Nicoli(Rafaela's daughter from some of the first blogs) although she was mad at me because she wanted me to play barbie the whole time.

I have to shout out my Philly chick fab. Woman, you have gone to the end of the earth to come see our asses and we appreciate. She took like 2 buses for a total travel time of like, 2 hrs to come spend a few hours with us on our final day.

Most memorable moment? Back of the pickup with Fab, Nando, the cleaning lady and her husband who was trying to get Fab to take his children to America and three adorable little kids. Laughing as we sped down the highway hair blowing in the wind. Good times. Thanks guys.

Desabafo-Outflow

2010-04-28T19:46:00.000-07:00

Went to a hip hop concert I loved. Had to add this song. "Desabafo" means outflow-the chorus is"Let me say what I think about this life, I really need to let it out." The dude is Marcel D2-If you like him, look him up. He's considered the real stuff down here. It makes me think, you know-i want look at hip hop all over the world. This right here is why hip hop is my favorite genre. Keep flowing my people.

Umm....Reggae?

2010-04-28T19:16:00.000-07:00

Did I really not put on any of Nando's Reggae?? My man is crazy for the stuff. It's his crack. Brazillians live reggae. You know what, they love music period my man. No matter the color the race the background you will find a brazillian listening to pop, reggae, bossanova, jazz, blues, hip hop, up in a rave...there are not those stereotypes like we have. Reggae is their flow...free and spiritual like them. Yea, thats what they are, free and spiritual. Like riding a motorcycle down the Pacific Coast Highway letting your dreads fly free. I'm going to put some pictures of the reggae feel from the second concert we went to and play you some Groundation. It's this band from Cali they love that does mainly Bob Marley standards. This second band was brazillian but I can't remember the name of it. I think it was Ponto de Equilibrio. Yea, u bought to hear some real popular stuff in Brazil.

This may just seem like some chill laid back reggae to you, but you play this for a Brazillian and you may as well be playing hardcore rock for a metal head...it rocks their friggin worlds. Forget it all, I'm gonna be a reggae artist!

Rio Graffiti

2010-04-28T18:30:00.000-07:00

This was a sight I genuinely appreciated over in Rio. The artistry of this vandalism was magnificent. The further inner city we went in Rio, the more complex and abstract the art became. We traveled up an old school trolley to look at the whole city from above, the view was marvelous. Rio is really something, there is a culture here that I would need years to fully comprehend. As I was there, I tried my best to read through the lines and make assumptions through observing the art.

If you look at this, there is something about the building that looks like it needs to be torn down, but at the same time saved for historic or artistic reasons.

Capoiera, a woman juggling, and Maxwell reading a book. Nailed it.

Us in the cute little trolley! Yes, my eyes are open. I have come to accept, my eyes just look like that.

At the top of the hill, we descended and took these side stairs down into a little area to view some ruins. There are still some things that I don't under
stand, like...why are there ruins in Rio? Why is nothing being done with this space? Everything here was very steep and covered in growth, it was pretty...it was almost like a city deteriorated and grew into a wild garden. More proof of the contrast that is Rio de Janeiro.

This was my favorite one. Could I tell you what it means? No. I think maybe you are on a train blasting into the future and then your train gets stung by a giant green electronic jellyfish. That's just a guess. I'm sure you can come up with something better.

Ima close it with this one-a collaborative effort. God how I miss New York.

The Last List

2010-04-27T15:59:00.000-07:00

These songs mean a lot to me...these are probably the ones I will bump hard on those headphones Chris got me when I come back home. I found Vanessa de Mata in Rio listening to the radio, and then in a club underneath the Arcos de Lappa. Since I found her I can't stop listening, her melodies are spiritual...I'm feeling it hard.
Nao me Deixa So-Don't leave me alone. Its a little girl singing about how she is afraid of the dark and ghosts but she knows how to fight back if she has to. Its precious
Boa Sorte-this is my anthem for Brazil...it feels like its all coming to an end...the words are half in english song by the talented Ben Harper so you'll get the gist of the song.

Nacao Zumbi-hip hop with a nordestino indian flow, something real different this cat put me on to in a fair in Rio...check them out for real. These song has a lot of meaning for me too. This one joint is called Mormaco: And the words are "Ta Fazendo sol, vai chover. Ya nasceu mais um, pra morrer"(Its hot out and its gunna rain, One more was born in order to die) This scream Favelas in rio. I was out there the one week over 300 people died in the mudslides in Rio. They die because of rain because of the poor structure of their houses. Its crazy how something as simple as rain really paralyzes a whole city.

Gilberto Gil is a voice without restrictions. Chiclete com Banana is a perfect demonstration of his voice and his steez, he lets in run free over a tropical beat. Actually, he isnt really confined to a genre, thats why I love him so much. This song, chiclete com banana, will always make me remember that night with Shela and Daniel eating churassco-servings of meet carved in front of you, drinking sweet wine.

The last one is not a Brazillian song-it is Skinnny love by Bon Iver and I am rocking it. Its about love and loss. Hope you enjoy. This songs are my heart put to melody.

Ficar

2010-04-27T15:12:00.002-07:00

This is from the 1st week when I got here-a little reflection on the meaning of the word"ficar" in portuguese. Yea, its not until now that I have had internet fast enough to upload videos, I def didnt think about that possibility before I left for Brazil.

Road less Travelled By

2010-04-27T15:12:00.001-07:00

There was a road in the center of Terra Vermelha that led to a world of question. When I began this blog, I was thinking of writing of fantastical things that never occurred, magical things that the beauty of Brazil would inspire me to create in my mind. But Brazil did not require my creativity. I took that road, man. I rode the bicycle in the rain on it, I climbed it up a mountain I walked into a waterfall, took fruits from the Jabichucaba tree, told vulgar jokes and never got tired of caipirinhas. And it was magical. I want to ask you because I do not yet know the answer, who will I be when I get back? What will I do with all of the love that I have grown? The truth is that the road is in my mind, I do not only take it-I made it. I got my chucks filthy with the red dirt of the earth and I breathed new life into me. I do not see the world the same, but does it see me the same?

I am on the plane. The next ten days I will be in Santarem, the Amazon, with Caleb finishing off our course in the one place I have wanted to be since I was literally 8 years old. I never slept during naptime in P.S. 87, mommy. I’d crawl into our little play area with the bookshelf and look through all the books until I found Brazil. The city girl had never seen anything greener. My eyes were bright with desire. I am here, 12 years older. Dreams do come true. It was not a dream and it was not magic. I am here. By the shores of the Amazon, I will be remembering the best time I have had in my life. Ten days to bridge the gap in between here and there. In my heart is my family in Brazil and on the other side there is staying up late with you daddy and watching family guy. There was boating across the port to class with my little political activist, Tiago and there is driving listening to Jack Johnson with Chris. There’s apple picking in the fall with the people I love most and there’s singing old school Reggae with Jardel in the condominium. Night and Day, Day and Night have been redefined. I am in a different skin and my heart has been stretched across the atlantic. It isn’t fair to them, to you guys or to me that I cannot be in all of these places at the same time. I always joke with Fernando about how funny it is I can’t really express deep things in Portuguese cause of the limit of the language. The last thing I told him before I left was that my heart was hurting. I am a child again.

Paulo, I have been born again in the Amazon singing 5 million different languages.

I told you I would

2010-04-16T09:24:00.000-07:00

Finally....I have been blessed with the most beautiful tastes in this world and I am hear to share with you a part of this happiness. This, I know, has again been long overdued but here it is. The food I had in Rio was the best food I have had in my life. There, I said it. It is the best food I have had in my life ever. I will not explain to you why. I will just show you some of the sights I took with the gourmet feature on my camera:

Exhibit 1: The ultimate snack(lanche)
Suco de Morango(Strawberry Juice) and Grilled Cheese
The juice was sweetened to a perfection and the grilled cheese was not your regular grilled cheese. Paulo, you remember how boss the grilled cheese we used to eat at Wyntons place? This was like that times ten. Inside this baby is american cheese laid on this, bananas and cinnamon. Strange combination but Im telling you--BANGING. Im takin that baby home.

Exhibit 2: Israeli joint
If your from New York, this spread is nothing exotic but it sure felt nice to get a taste of home with a little hummus and babaganush. Does it kind of ruin the point when you overeat healthy food? I think so.
The coffee at this restaurant sucked tho! I´m so used to the crazy sweet cafe com leite now that its hard to go back to bitter. Caleb seemed to like it though.

Exhibit 3: Kilo Club
Here, a kinda restaurant that is very popular is called the kilo restaurant(mommy and amanda came with me to one that time we went to lunch with the other amanda). You head to a buffet with a giant ass plate and stack up, but you have to be careful cuz you weigh your plate after and pay by how much you took. Its kind of strange to actually have to read how much you ate but it has the advantage of encouraging you to be conscious of both how much you eat and how much you spend at the same time!

Exhibit 4: MMMMMMMM
Ok, I mean I didnt actually eat this but you know i just had to show you. They do not play around with their cakes man, I remember I was sent to another district to purchase the perfect cake for Caleb for his birthday. Brazillians and their sweets man.

Exhibit 5: The problem
Rodizio-Do you know what that is? We do have some Brazillian stlye Rodizios sprinkled throughout the states and you have to say Brazillian style because their is nowhere in the world that throws down like this. This right here is the reason I cant do more than drink teas and eat soup right now. Seriously- even you dont know what it is you missing out. You sit at a table and pay a fixed fee, buffet stlye- you get unlimited access to all kinds of crazy meat-lamb, chicken, beef, fish, pork, some real high end places even have alligator. But before you get to excited, watch out...they sorround you with appetizers and a big old buffet table to fill you up so that you dont eat up all their meat. A true rodizio expert waits for the best meat at the end(Picanha Paulo and I think) and leave the starches behind! You even gotta be careful what you drink. You dont eat anything else in the day(or maybe even the day before) and when you begin, you take large breaths. Dont drink too much water cuz it will fill. Drink a little to clean the palate a wash it down. Brazillians dont play about their meats. If you need a time out, take it. Do what you have to do. Ben, this might be the place for you.

Alright an let me put you on to something that Im also bringing to the states...they eat their meat with a lil vinagrette on top, but its not jus the vinegar check this out I made it for calebs bday:
diced tomatoes
diced green peppers
diced onions
oil
vinegar
and some chopped up scallions
=
Boss

I am currently at this state. Chill with it Brazil, I tap out.

Corcovado

2010-04-16T08:33:00.000-07:00

Today was dewey like the springtime in NYC-reminiscent of my past life, when I was something empty dressed in pollution and graffiti. Rio was really something-what a view, mountain tops sprinkled with favelas and Christ suspended with arms stretched out wide overlooking the whole world. Corcovado-Christ the reedemer. There is only so much you can learn of the soul of a city in a week, but I sure got some great pictures. From the nightlife of the bohemian village underneath the aquaducts of lappa to the beautiful ipanema beach stretched around the city-Rio is to die for. We stayed in this beautiful two story mansion with this couple from Brooklyn who takes pictures for Mike, the owner of the house. The place was supervised by Mikes partner John, who was sadly sick for half of the time.

This week we ran around like crazy seeing sites, trying new foods, nw beaches, meeting new people and going to meetings with different doctors. The climate was nice and cool over here, so I slepty better than Ive slept in all of my vacation. Im talking that 10/11 hours kinds a sleep. Yea, I indulged.

I wanna start by talking about the religious side of Rio, corcovado is like the catholic capital of the world-everybody recognizes that image in the sky as a practical symbol of Brazil. It is true that the country is majorly catholic, but evangelics are on the rise. It is interesting to observe what christianity is here. It takes on its own color and character which is uniquely Brazillian. You have the same bible stories, symbols, saints and prayers-but there is something uniquely open about this christianity. My friend invited me to her Baptist church once and told me I could choose between the regular one or the reggae one. I looked at her like she was crazy but she didn´t flinch, she really goes to a reggae church man-thats boss.

There is something alive in their love of God. There is some real genuine connection between their words and actions. When the speak of God, it doesnt feel like hollow words echoing through a hallway-there is something personal in it that I have never seen before. Here, I have gone to church once or twice only, but I have to say I have prayed more than ever in my life. I work at an adventist organization and we pray once with the children and then with the staff. Every day we pray for the health and safety of the children. When I leave to walk out of Terra Vermelha every day and hear "Fica com Deus" or "stay with God"-there is not judgment or hesitation in the voice that says it-it rolls of the tongue like saying, be careful, or watch yourself out there. We pray for the best and we need it. Its not a joke or a motion-they could use all the help they can get.

This was an interesting little performance Caleb, Geli and I stopped to see by this young girl from Georgia who came to Rio to spread the word of God. It was a cute little short story about a young girl who had a whole in her heart that she tried to fill with money, drugs, men and technology and finally tried to kill herself. Nothing was enough to fill her whole. Then she talked about how the narrow path to God as the only way to fill that whole. The woman on the left is the Brazillian translator. It was a really cute story that she wrote with love, and Rio was the perfect spot for this little church group.

At the end, they asked if anyone was saved today by learning the words of God, and this character down here was the only one who raised his hand. Chillin on the floor listening to this woman talking about salvation while looking at Corcovado high in the cloudy sky-what a view homie had.

Until I get the real Rio pictures up, I found a Ukelele and 20,000 leagues under the sea in Portuguese

2010-04-11T18:36:00.001-07:00

My Little Playmate

2010-04-10T20:22:00.000-07:00

If I could have captured the moment when my mother and sister slowly walked to the gate of Cadec and questioned whether Stefani and Vivia were really walking in the street to go home alone, I could have dumped out every photo in my mother's iphone. Nothing was more expressive than the cultural shock they experienced in that moment when they quietly watched, not saying it was wrong or right.... only visibly touched.

My sister didnt know a word of portuguese and the kids knew nothing of english but somehow the connection was stronger than any other first time connection my sister has built back home. They followed her, and hugged her and loved her(especially this my little Andres from the photo)and Amanda adored it. So did mommy and I. I was proud of how warm my little monkeys were to my family.

My family, so clearly out of place in the rural slums of Terra Vermelha, fell right into the warmth that is Cadec. They loved them. If my sister was there a week longer, shed have herself a Brazillian boyfriend too! Parting was difficult on all sides, but there is something universal that my sister learned here-love and friendship. There is no pretense here, these children wear their heart on their sleeves and I'm sure my sister appreciated a break from the cold. Who wouldn't. I had her sit with the kids in the heat for a while and do the activities they had to do to see what the life is like. She was a little uncomfortable at first but she was sorrounded by smiling faces. You learn soon that these smiling faces could coax you into anything.

Do you remember the childhood handgame, my little playmate? It was ringing in my head the whole time I watched Amanda and Andres play...words can not describe how far their worlds were apart but nothing would stand in the way of this fun. You don't need a rainbow or a dolly....not if this love thing lasts...

"My little playmate, come out and play with me
and bring your dolly three
climb up my apple tree
slide down my rainbow
into my cellar door
and we'll be jolly friends
forever more, forever more.

I'm sorry playmate
I can not play with you
My dolly has a flu
Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
I have no rainbow
I have no cellar door
but we'll be jolly friends
forever more, forever more..."

The Weight of Return

2010-04-07T12:41:00.000-07:00

Its just Tigger and I now. Suffering under the weight of love and uncertainty. Today I am renewed, today is to start a week in Rio in a grand furnished mansion on copacabana. Imagina. The library filled with scholarly works in english, portuguese, spanish, french and Italian, the owners of this place are regular academics. I have much updating today, my mother and sister came a week ago and it was a marvellous cross cultural experience that I hope they will never forget. But what a short time a week is. I will give a full update when I have all of those pictures for you.

I am reminded by how soon I am going home, as this program winds down, one of the final assignments is to work on a grant writing assignment that I may actually put into application in real life, about my chocolate factory. All of my dreams are swimming through my head again. Today I met to scientists at the DNDi institute in Brazil who work on bringing affordable remedies to sufferers of infectious tropical diseases. My heart listened closely to their words and their passion. I long for that feeling, that feeling of doing just the thing you love. How crisp and refreshing it must taste to put meaning to all your words and dreams. To manifest your thoughts and lay out your heart to the world. Gostoza.

My heart is in New York. It is, I love you all and never forget. My blood runs through that land. My dreams all pertain to its betterment and I am fluent in its needs. Im coming home.

So why then do I suffer from this heavy weight on my heart? I remember you warned me about the magic charm of brazillians and told me to be careful what I love. You were right. If they blindfolded me I may skip down that street to nowhere and play forever with the raw emotions of man, never to think again of my place. Their is no currency to measure their brilliance.

Beyond this, I have fallen in love. This week I couldnt eat a bite and I can barely taste a bite. It is strong because its been a while. My body is healthy but Im not feeling well. Love lays heavy on my mind. All along I needed someone to open me up by being himself, lovingly. And here it is-as simple as it could have ever been. I am not rough or cruel or short, I do not have to be nor do I know how. I rode with him on the front of his bike in the rain and he asked me to never leave. Silently I smiled. Finally I told him he was a beautiful talking dream. I have to leave. I want to say this isnt me, but somehow it is. Somehow this dive will prepare me for greater plunges yet. Somehow this risk is but a glimpse of the life sacrifice I will one day take.

The brevity of this trip forces me to name it a beautiful example of happiness. Of what love can be. Otherwise it (and he) would be my life. New York, you better be waiting still or I may let this reggae tide wash over me...

A Fitting Excerpt from Pessoa

2010-03-26T11:24:00.000-07:00

I don’t know how many souls I have.
I’ve changed at every moment.
I always feel like a stranger.
I’ve never seen or found myself.
From being so much, I have only soul.
A man who has soul has no calm.
A man who sees is just what he sees.
A man who feels is not who he is.

Attentive to what I am and see,
I become them and stop being I.
Each of my dreams and each desire
Belongs to whoever had it, not me.
I am my own landscape,
I watch myself journey -
Various, mobile, and alone.
Here where I am I can’t feel myself.

That’s why I read, as a stranger,
My being as if it were pages.
Not knowing what will come
And forgetting what has passed,
I note in the margin of my reading
What I thought I felt.
Rereading, I wonder: “Was that me?”
God knows, because he wrote it.
__________________________________________________
Não sei quantas almas tenho.
Cada momento mudei.
Continuamente me estranho.
Nunca me vi nem achei.
De tanto ser, só tenho alma.
Quem tem alma não tem calma.
Quem vê é só o que vê.
Quem sente não é quem é.

Atento ao que sou e vejo,
Torno-me eles e não eu.
Cada meu sonho ou desejo,
É do que nasce, e não meu.
Sou minha própria paisagem,
Assisto à minha passagem,
Diverso, móbil e só.
Não sei sentir-me onde estou.

Por isso, alheio, vou lendo
Como páginas, meu ser.
O que segue não prevendo,
O que passou a esquecer.
Noto à margem do que li
O que julguei que senti.
Releio e digo, «Fui eu?»
Deus sabe, porque o escreveu.

Get out of Town

2010-03-25T10:44:00.000-07:00

His name was Fernando and he was too sweet for his own good. He loves Reggae and American Morenas. He looks at me curiously waiting for the smile he loves and out of nowhere, unexpected, his smile brightens my heart. At first glance, he seems so serious. He works every day but Sunday as the manager of this store in Vitoria. But put on some reggae music and youd think he was born in Jamaica. He smart and fun, but he follows my lead. I know nothing of his culture and he litle of mine, but he watches me to see what I want, or what I think is appropriate. He doesnt assume he knows me or what Im like and even though we dont always understand each other, weve figured out a way to be sensitve enough to gestures and expressions to get around it. But Caetono Veloso says it best. I shouldnt have met him. I need to get out of town.

Meu anjo, voce e demais.

My poor translation:
"There arent many profound studies about the kiss. Probably, in the middle of the search, the scientists discovered is much sexier to actually kiss than to go out and research it."

Preach, little chocolate bom bom. Thats what Im talking about.

And its Supposed to be Love

2010-03-25T09:36:00.000-07:00

"Its a sad and lonely sound. Sour grapes and tears. Something dark is going on-going on for years."

Before I left, I remember how worried you all were that my safety would be in jeopardy visting Brazil. You warned me that it would be a different world, the second world I suppose they call it. Here the profound inequities between the rich and the poor provide an unstable atmosphere for every Brazillian citizen. The insecurity is classless. You would rarely find someone listening to their ipod on the bus. The night before, I met a guy who told me that if I were to ever be robbed, not to look my robber in the eyes and not to run. Just to give the person what they want. I had always thought running would be best because they might kill you anyway, but he let me know that a lot of these people who steal do drugs and if you frighten them, they may go off.

There is something else that I feel like Im learning though. There are no different people. There are different places and things to become accustomed to, cultures and customs-but there was never one human different from another. There is no child here who can care for himself or herself better by the virtue of his or her experience. Their innocence is universal. Their eyes may be wider but their skin is not thicker. They are impressionable, sweet and vulnerable. They walk home alone or go by bike. People here are not less afraid just because it is their terrain, only more careful. Can you imagine? Somehow I thought maybe they were born prepared but what sense does that make now? We do what we need to do out of necessity. Nobody is fit for this. No child deserves a street education or to go hungry or to die of boredom. I looked down the road today, in the intersection in front of Cadec and noticed how the path led down to a rural area with farms, and trees and fruit that grows sweet-and I thought about myself and everything I am so far. At 20 I have traveled the world, worked, gone to college and am getting ready to begin my career in music. I am not a vessel of uncertainty. I have a family and friends back home with great expectations. In my mind live a thousand dreams and in my life a million possibilities. What is this backroad interlude? I am curious about its invisibility. Surely in New York, I would have never imagined a road in Terra Vermelha, Red Land that leads to endless country where I will find miles of beautfiul nothingness, there but disconnected from the world.

If I went, if I had just crossed the street and walked down that road I would find that I am nothing just like everybody here. Down these streets that are really there, hidden behind the few social institutions is the reality that these kids face-the milk honey and vinegar that is their day to day. I could be that. I could have been that. Down that street Id find the content that is just living, no more politics of identity. Just who you are, mom pop, your brothers and sisters and the neighbors you bike to school with. Back there Id find the content of what it is to live, minus the abstract experience of it. Its got its certain asthetic appeal. But its too late-Im me. And I will be coming home. I think.

Today was a great day. We through a party for everybodys birthday in the last few months. Caleb and I got into the festivites and you can see below. But every day my heart is heavier knowing that soon I will be Tia Nicoli no more.

We were worried about my safety here, whether I could take care of myself. But look into their faces, do they look ready?

"Who knows what the end will be, it aint over yet..."

2010-03-23T00:35:00.000-07:00

The more I become Brazillian, the less I write poetry about Brazil. AHHHHH! Do you get it?

I promise Im gonna get back on here and do a major updating soon. For now Id like to simply inform you that one, my mom and sister are coming in 6 days which I am soooooo crazy excited for, everybody over here is crazy excited. And also, that I am having an existencial crisis. Im about halfway through my trip. Halfway? Halfway. When I speak to you guys back home, I am reminded where my heart is. But I have been reborn here in Brazil. Remember the photos from my neighborhood from one of the first blogs? Those are still my closest friends here. The problem is Im netiher just passing through or staying long enough to satisfy myself. I love these people. Some of them actually know me. Some of them see me almost every day. Some of them live in my condiminium. It is not that I feel Brazillian, I still feel like the American morena, its just that I have a place now. When I leave my heart will hurt, and years will go by itll seem like it was a dream. They all tell me theyre gonna come to new york and stay with me-but there is something that tells me my worlds will never collide.

Let me tell you something about living dreams that you had and finding out that its even better in reality. Dont do it. Stay at home. Marry the guy next door you always got along with. Dont come here and look at these stars. Dont come here and love these beatiful and sensitive men. Stay home and get accustomed to the cold. It isnt worth it. Write poetry about what you think castles look like. Write articles about what you think poverty looks like. But stay there, leave some artistic distance. Because you will come and find that its prettier, bigger and heavier than you imagined. You will learn why you were born with tearducts and you will fall in love with red land and dying things. Dont come and find out which child has aids. Dont watch Stefani bike home on a broken leg. Come here on vacation and stick to the beach.

Leave your dream in the abstract form. I beg you.

Restless Nights

2010-03-20T06:14:00.000-07:00

An excerpt from my diary last week. Since, I have been armed with a new fan, raid and more bug spray. My hands are like lightning and I am constantly on mosquito watch. Dengue is a serious issues here, and it is caused by mosquitoes. If I were to get it, it would knock out all my remaining time. Lets hope for the best

I get, on average, no more than four to five hours of sleep in this hell trap of heat and relentless bugs. It is 2am, and I sit alert with my enemy across the table, the two of us waiting for the other to fall asleep. I know i will not fall asleep tonight. I switch from couch to couch, bed to bed and the hell of my disquiet continues to be relentless. The four hours my body steals from my consciousness is just enough to keep my face from melting off. And coffee. I wonder again at the prupose of your tiny existences. Soley to bug me? To test my character? I remember that you will bury me, but at least allow me these moments to rest!

I long for my bed at home, cool and refreshing-my dark blue comforter falls over me in waves of satisfation. I need it now like I need a man-everything else is just surviving without its presence. I am nostalgic for the time when an occasional spider bite was an event that occured once a week. And even that was an issue. Imagine now, a place whre food left out is englufed by a swarm of hundreds of ants-hungry and vulgar-desperate to consume your meager daily portion. Like the person wqho rushes past you to get the seat on the bus, they got their first, what can you say-next time.

I remember I once saw a documentary that left me itchy and disturbed. It was about the insects, tiny and benign, that live in your clothes, on your skin and inside your body. I hate them. I know mom, you dont like when i say hate-but I have a genuine distaste for these tiny monsters who take pleasure in leaving scars all over my once scarless legs. Pleasure on vicously feeding on my flesh while Im still living. Thank God they only itch. I can feel them thinking and wanting more. When I watch them eat my food, out of curiousity for the grotesque, I swear they are watching me watch them. They are too many to not have a consciousness. An organized body of ants carries its dead in a most magnificent funeral procession.

I cant sleep. Maybe its only right that I cant sleep. How ignorant Ive always been of the fact they are my coinhabitants-as desperate to survive as I. Is this some gret irony? That they pick off of me in the same sens that I, in all my bourgeois glor, feed off the riches of the world and benefit from the people under me? the expression should go: mosquitoes, the great equalizer.

It makes me sad to think of infants, comforatble in their warm and cozy wombs, are shot out into a world where flies can eat their faces. And there skin becomes accustomed to the bites of tiny vicious things. As I think this, an infant yawns with indifference as an innocent fly curiously buzzes around. The bugs are quietly exploring our crevices, and testing my patience. I yawn and remember the part about the worms lining our digestive track. The early bird wasnt early enough.

The Black Movement in Brazil

2010-03-14T18:29:00.000-07:00

Remember Tiago, the young kid I told you I met at the environment program I went to a couple weeks back?(If not flip´back a few posts) Well he hit me up with this message this weekend:

´Entrei em contato com o lider do movimento do povo Negro do Espirito Santo.
ele esta esperrando eu marca uma reunião coom vocs e eles bom espero que voces
entre em contato.

me passe seu fone´

My poor gringo tranlsation:

I made contact with the leader of the black movement of Espirto Santo. He is waiting for me to mark a day for a meeting with you guys and they cant wait to meet you.

Send me your number.

Crazy excited yall! Seek and you shall find. So I did a little research so as to not be entirely in the dark about the movement when we meet these guys. I had no idea how connected Raybans was with these social movements. Im folowing the blog, actually, for this movement so check the sidelink if you wanna check it out(go to google translator to read some of the speeches, it translates a little better than I thought it would.) The leadership is intellectually powerful, the words and metaphors provoked to describe Lulas new Estatuto de Promoção da Igualdade Racial(A bill on racial equality), is reminiscent of America civil rights movement and black consciousness in South Africa. All in all, Im feeling it. Theres an energy there, check this out:

Os anos pós-Abolição; com o subemprego, a favelização, o preconceito aonde chegava em razão da cor de sua pele e a discriminação racial que sofria ao bater as portas do mercado de trabalho, mostrou à negrada a outra face - a verdadeira se alguém tem dúvida - daquela “lei redentora” e dissipou suas esperanças de uma vida melhor como emancipada, até porque, as novas relações de trabalho “estranhamente” o único beneficiado era o branco, o imigrante europeu.

'The years after abolition, with underemployment, the shanytowns, the prejudice where the bias existed because of his skin color and racial discrimination that he suffered while hitting the doors of the labor market, demonstrated to the negro the other face-the truth if anyone has any doubt-that the ´law of redemption`(abolition) dispelled his hopes of a betetr life after emancipation,because the new working relationships ´strangely´ only benefitted the white European immigrants.´

Wowwow, what does this sound like yo? Thas some Frederich Douglass, James Baldwin, Steven Biko shit! If for nothing more than, this literature, Im hooked. These are some strong words, blantantly evoking the history of slavery to addrress current inequities-a feat most moderate african americans activists have recently tended to avoid due to the negative reaction of the American public at large. I am inspired by these guts Im reading-and Brazillians like even less to look their past in the face than Americans do.

I am an emerging advocate of ethnocentricity for all the good reasons like cultural cohesion and progress and none of the bad reasons like cultural isolationism. If you are proposing that the reason for social inequities goes beyond the coincidence of geographic location and touches the subject of racial discrimination then you are already talking to me about the importance of advocating for the civil rights of these targeted racial groups. International development requires a partnership beyond racial lines but we dont address the problem if we dont look institutional racism in the face. Were somehow missing the point if we make it illegal to pay men more than women on the basis of gender and then dont focus any of our resources on unteaching sexism, a movement is necessary. So much inequality, so little time.

The Americans

2010-03-14T17:57:00.000-07:00

The companionship of english speakers(americans in particular), has indeed been a relief. Other than Fabi, our Philly friend whose rediscovering her Brazillian roots and living with an exchange student who stayed with her in the past, I met two Texans on business here, working in machinery for oil drilling, or mining was it...I cant remember, anyways they were def chill and I felt all grownup chillin with all them in their fancy penthouse in Praia da Costa.

Unlike I did when I was younger, I dont feel uncomfortable hanging out with an older crowd. We drink and talk and laugh and I follow what theyre saying. I think this is really what Ive been needing, a more sophisticated vibe with people who have something to talk about, you know? I like getting advice from people whose years are a little ahead of mine, yet being respected for the few things I do know. Def cool people. Craig took Fabi and I out to this great Italian restaurant where we devoured this huge filled pizza and followed up with some Caipirina. If youre wondering, no, Im not in the least bit getting tired of Caipirina. It is the staple drink of Brazil, but I feel like everytime I have it, its different. Member when you made this for me down in Florida, Paulo? It was a little strong then,but I think thats because you didnt use enough sugar. Ima hook it UP when i get back lol.
Problem is, it is the staple drink because it uses the staple liquor-cashaça, a piece of hell made from sugarcane that some people down like water over here. Man, I wouldnt use pure cachaça on my booboos, lol. Its basically ice, lime and sugar mashed up(but dont mash the lime up too much!) and then pour in that cachaça baby. You can substitute with vodka but its not the same thing. Actually thats called Capivodka, anyways, the stuff is good.

So we ate, went back to the hotel and talked and ate some cake and cookies and stuff. Sometimes you just need a few good people to make the atmosphere. Im learning alot from Fabi, who used to be a promoter for Def Jam, and is transitioning into being an artist under Universal. She knows a lot about the business and is letting me in on a lot of tips that I really appreciate. When she returns to Philly, Im def guna check out the music scene with her. Overall, shes a chill hustler.

I slept on the couch that night. In the air conditioning! It was the first time I slept with air conditioning the whole time that Ive been here. Like, imaginge someone from Survivor being offered a night in air conditioning. I showered in a nice hot hotel shower and slept soooo well. It couldnt last long enough. I fell asleep cheezing(now that I think of the image I knew it must have been pretty funny) I think that before I fell asleep, I was cheezing for like five minutes. LMAO, I think I dreampt like 50 times, man it was the bomb.

We woke up the next morning and Craigs chill ass gave us both 10 R to go purchase some breakfast for ourselves. At first it was strange, I mean, I knew he was getting paid, but I am not used to being given money just for being a friend. He said, thanks you guys are really cool, dont sweat it. It was strange, I am a woman who comes from means, unaccostomed to such treatment from males. But I appreciated it. Me and Fab ate at this place across the street and ordered some pao with queijo and presunto and the juice I know Ima miss when I get back. Just Bomb. Great night, good start to a day, and some damn good people.

When it Rains, It Pours

2010-03-14T17:42:00.000-07:00

This photo speaks it all. After a normal rainy day that would be cause for little alarm in the states, the street in front of my house is flooded as if we were hit with a tidlewave. I have never seen anything like this. Wanna know why? They dont have gutters. Gutters, man. I have realized that I have even taken gutters for granted. There are some rainy days that students do not go to school because buses are not running, and they simply can not walk. I, on the other hand, decided to go get some food, and crossed the dirty straight. In chinelas. Im not as much of a girly girl as I look, but it was gross. Eww. Gracas a Deus that I didnt come out with a third toe. The waters are actually mixed with the sewage that pours into a ditch in the back of my condominium. If you ask what Brazilians what they think one of their biggest problems are, sewage tends to make the top four with AIDS hitting number one.

These guys are great, they work at the hamburger stand outside my condiminium and the flood didnt stop them!(man that bacon is worth wading for, lol) I asked them who will come in the rain, and as I said it, a car drove up to the stand. Yea, its that good.

Though it was kinda funny to have to pull my pants up to walk across the street, I certainly can see how fundamental issues like this can decapacitate a city. Imagine having to close your store when it rains too much. In the city center, I visited a region where the rains hit so much and so often that stores are made on stilts and are elevated. After asking why they didnt have gutters (which took me forever to ask because I didnt know the portuguese equivalent fro gutters), I was told that the commercial industry is relatively new, and so the city is facing a new host of issues. Before urbanization, the main industry was fishing, thus the marjority of families were unaffected by the downpours.

So many parties...its like its not even parties

2010-03-11T17:46:00.000-08:00

As I drink my coffee in the morning, I party at night. So much that it feels like part of my daily routine....
I wish it was humanly possible to keep you consistently updated on the lifestyle, but it is all so much and so much to say that i tend to keep it to myself. I think, though, that its better that I get my thoughts out here so I dont have to answer a million questions when I get bak(which I prolly will have to anyway) So lemme try to answer some:

Are the women reallyas sexy as every one says?
No. Lol. Of course they are fine as hell. But not all of them. The ones who are sexy are really sexy. What is mostsexy about them is they they have a very unique look, if you look at their faces they all have something very different about them.
But it isnt quite what I thought it would be. Every Brazillian isnt the sexiest thang in the world. They got our same kinda ugly and our same kinda fat. And I dont think this is cuz they imported mcdonalds either. I think they was already like that. I swear I saw Raspuccia on the beach the other day.

And the men?
My completely unbias opinion is that the men are ten times sexier than the women. How is it that people dont be talkin about brazillian men all the time??? So fine I am currently unphased by fine(you kno Im lying) Tanned skin muscleheads walking around with no shirts on callin(oi gata!) and oi morena!! I would have to show you for you to really understand. Its just that, the frequency of fine is ten times higher than it is in the states. You are ten times as likely to find something sexy here than in the states. I speaks the truth

And the sexual energy?
Motels here are specifically for sex. They are called love motels. There is a love motel on every block. This is because most people live with their families so they have to rent out a motel room to have sex. I think this is nutz, your man has to pay to have sex with you(or woman...im sure they tradeoff) Like, grown people use love motels. Brazil has such a sexual culture, which is unfortunately why it suffers so horribly from AIDS. My friend told me that the school system is trying to ban dating in schools, this wont get rid of the problem man...Lovemaking is deeply engrained in brazillian culture.

Funky

2010-03-11T17:22:00.001-08:00

The first new song is called Pente and the second is called Rebolation. The first is a example of contemporary Brazillian Funky which is str8 rapping over a beat. Nothing to crazy but def fun to dance to. When I first got here they were surprised that I could dance so well to it...pretty much the same movements as to hip hop so it wasnt so difficult. The song is talkin about love, sex and infedelity-funky is a sexual movment-the actual word Pente means a pack of bullets. I dont understand why it is called this, in fact nobody understands why it is called this. It is like a pacakge of sex and agreession over a song. And you dance. Yea

The second is called Rebolation. This is THE song of the summer. It has Bahian roots and it is very very very carnivalesque. Those of you who have experienced carnival in other countries should recognize the vibe. The word "rebolation" is just like shaking, moving your body around....thats pretty much the whole song. Im not saying the music isnt profound...just that its dance music. Every genre has its importance. I asked them how you dance to this and the response was, you just kinda move around. Easy enough. Can you samba to this?? btw, samba update: im learning....

The third is one of my favs, Cançao de Terra by Zelia Barboaa. A very old song that means "Song of the Land" It talks about the normal lives of the poor, death and poverty and the cycle. Im getting into Zelia, my favorite song of hers was this one called Cicatriz, but I couldnt find it on the link.

This week we visited a project called VidaVerde. I am in love with the creativity of its founder, a man named Joao. Basically, it is a form of econegocios(like green business)-they are a bank that accepts donations of foods from donors and sells food in its own tiny supermarket. The eco tradeoff works like this: people from the community bring in bottles or cans or frying oil(to be used for diesel) and deposit in the lot of VidaVerde. The person is then paid by the kilo in a made up currency that you can only use to buy food products in this supermarket. You have the option to cash in, but people here tend to be more socially conscious and keep the money in the community by buying from this supermarket. Once a week the city comes to pick up the trash and the cycle is restarted every week. You would be surprised at how many kilos of trash people carry in. This one dude came in a horse drawn carriage. Nutz. But I think its a great idea, it really kepps people ecologically conscious.

One of the founders was a boy of 19 years. He rolled in on his bike with some raybans and I figured he was someone to know, lol. After talking for a while, he let me know about a few student movements around the area and offered to give me a tour of the region. A couple of his causes are fighting AIDs, the environment of course and the black movement in espiritu santo. Black civil rights here is understood very differently. After slavery, there was a group of runaway slaves who escaped into the interior of brasil and formed these kilombos. Unlike the native american tribes of the amazon, kilombos are open to visitor and are alive with african traditions. The fight here is to expand the land of these people. Cant tell you how excited I was to find out about this, Ill keep you updated on the struggle.

Artistic Interlude

2010-03-07T18:46:00.000-08:00

Monkeys and Coffee

This photo is of the little brother of Amanda. His eyes are always this alert-he is attentive and intelligent. I call him a little monkey and he doesnt like it. He pretends to cry. Caleb and I think hes so alert cause he has coffee in the morning like adults. Here, actually, it is normal to give children coffee in the morning. Monkeys, all of them.

Avatar

This is another Amanda who came over and was playing video games. This picture, to me, the blue light shining on her face reminds me of the avatar look. It is about how technology, used correctly, can bring out our inner light.

Blush

When I told the girls I had a date, they rushed me into the intimates section and told me I needcd to buy some sexy lingerie. They chose it out, lol. They told me I need to buy it for a very special night! Lol. I am calling it blush because I was embarrased to be trying on sexy lingerie in front kids. But I did think it was beautiful.

Graffiti?

So, I thought this was the funniest thing of all time. It is actual graffiti on my college campus and the words are: Where are the trees? Im used to seeing graffiti against racism, antisemitism and bigotry, but about the trees? Thats what Im talkin about-environmentalists on their game.

The Universe is Mental

This one is pretty self explanatory. I liked it cause Im a poet.

Light Through the Trees

Walking through my campus, taking pictures, I love best to walk below the forest of trees and look up. A metaphor of how we are both imporisoned by this earth yet freed by the fact of the beauty at our disposal.
a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IEkNan2y2VI/S5Rzk23FfdI/AAAAAAAAAR8/IY8VGdPIU2I/s1600-h/DSC00484.JPG">
Brazillian Girlfriend

This is for you mandy! Flat Stanley has a hot brazillian girlfriend! To me, this symbolizes how plain average looking american dudes get with really sexy brazillian girls. Actually, it is a metaphor for how much more colorful Brazillians are than Americans. Flat stanley is hushing her up because americans are much more conservative.

Sleepy time, She comes

Beleza

2010-03-07T15:48:00.001-08:00

There are some things, on these streets, that no inquisitive eyes should digest. No journalists should tread these slums, nor should the dainty feet of middle class lovers of life who cherish the balance of wealth and adventure their middle class status permits,ever walk these streets. There is some dirt that doesnt wash, blood that runs down the leg, that will never find redemption. Indeed it is a landscape of dirt. We are all equal here, Samuel alongside the chickens and dogs and horse, undisturbed by the vulgarity of coexistence. Night falls and Samuel finds the sidewalk a dog isnt already dying on.

Shots ring out and no one stirs. It could be death, or fireworks, but it wasnt you. This time. Even a tourist dressed down can not hide the smile in his soul, and the lazy eyes-inert after years without use. Time is measured in-time is not measured but maybe youll jack an unlucky visitor. What could be more intelligent than a human alive enough to live moment to moment? Even in my most profound intellectual sessions I am overcome by the intense need to relax my mind and I sleep, deeply and peacefully-and the angels shut my curtains, standing guard.

What is it-what is this life Ive been given. These fortunate days I have to comment on what a golden landscape God painted, eating the chocolate of the earth. What magic made me me-did I pay years of inferno to taste this fruit? Will I? Did I sell my soul to indulge? All the world is like walking through the louvre, admiring the art from afar. I reject my disdain for my own existence, regret is too 20th century intellectual. The introspection itself is a damned luxury. No, love it. Tell yourself the kids can take it and imagine it all a great karma. You are the lyrics to the music Ill write...later later later.

So these are my protest songs....against everybody whose making this world worse than it already is. The looters, the police, the politicians, the dogs the system the bigots, the racists, the robbers the killers. But mostly the people who say these assholes dont exist. I genuinely hate you all. This is my magic-look at me go. I will sing about you all, and paint about you all and stare your bigotry right in the face with my back turned to Gods land. This is the thing I was made to do, cover up your bruises with dirt. Money? What makes you think they wanna give you money? They dont even know what you look like. But maybe they will if you stand right there, yea in front of the dark brown building with the chickens in the background. Get the one with the green eyes, than put the rest of his face in black and white. See the money flowing now? Now youre art!

No, these streets are not even a place for artists. Its a place for foreign liars who can tell the world that poverty is beautiful and throwing bricks builds character. And I am not one of them.

So praise the stars and the wine. Praise italy for how beautiful you dream it is. Your fireplace and your air conditioning. Your loving God and your pots and pans. Praise everytime all 100 of your family members got together. The heat when its cold and the cold when its hot. Praise Death the great equalizer! And your infant you wrap up in happiness. I think marshmellows deserve a shoutout. Marshmellows and old age. Sleeping in yo nice big bed, even when you have to share it. Praise CNN, and fox news if your a bigot. The music and the art. But most of all, Id like to thank the Louvre and Paris for being nothing, beautifully.

Hang that on your wall, bitch.

An opinion of religion

2010-03-07T14:43:00.000-08:00

I watch her in her aggressive defense of God and Religion and Christianity and lightning and thunder and heaven and hell and humans and angels and devils and fairys and trolls and monsters and closests and nightlights and gardens and apples and trojans and slaves and lyrics and mangers and beards and of love, and I find her so frighteningly human.
I think I am content to merely watch this noisy stream, dribbling like a baby into the calm waters of indifference....
__________________________________________________

In church, I hear the pastors speakings-
Like toddlers banging out chords.

But when I escaped
the universe was silent,
like the inside of a womb.

I would return, unafraid
into a trembling shell
a drop of knowledge falling into a black whole.

As we continue to be,
to speak love, is redundancy
-I am already crushed by prophecies
I have faith that God will be
a compilation of uncertainties.

Tonight I come down from my soul
and throw my blankets off. I run
naked into the fields where the stars and darkness
have no horizon and look up,
not to view the universe,
but so that is it burned by my inquisitive glaring.

Im open as the sea,
I sense you in the breeze
But I stand here, God, wanting you to see me.

You reply that to speak love
would be redundancy,
and I walk back home,
continuing to be.

All the music in the world
is not enough to ignite the electricity in my soul-
not if you pieced together all the screaming and jiving and raving and
judging and preaching and touching and even the loving.

But there is a certain single note,
not on any piano,
that can bring my death to life.

Chocolate Diaries

2010-03-05T11:29:00.000-08:00

My Poor Translation:

"Dry mouth, heart palpitating and trembling is what composes what we call: love at first sight. But according to psychoanalysis, the correct expression should be: passion at first sight. Whatever the name, its damn good."

You ain´t never lied, little chocolate bom bom.

Numa festa de Reggae-Just another Wednesday Night

2010-03-05T10:38:00.000-08:00

So Gaby put me on to this Cali band called Groundation that sings reggae music and is very popular in Brazil and apparently all over the world. They imitate reggae standards(mostly bob marley of course) and I felt right at home listening to the music before I went out. Despite the fact that most people dont know what the words mean(imagine how much more difficult a Jamaican accent is to understand for a Brazillian) they all know the words! They looovveee reggae here-it is like universal party starter.

The place was crazy packed and was like no other concert I ever went to. About 12 bucks to enter, it was this huge tent perched on top of a mountain with a gorgeous view of the port of Vitoria. Room for probably a thousand people( I could be exaggerating, Ive never been good with measurements) and any kind of drink u could think of at ur disposal. You never wait longer than 5 minutes for a drink.

What a jive...beautiful men and women, real sophisticated and funky, reggae blastin just like back home and of course people smoking weed right in the middle of the tent. A Brazillian reggae concert! Gaby and I met up with some friends of hers and danced all night. I decided to dress for the occassion...check the reggae colors...

I met all kinds of guys, some spoke to me in spanish-which definitely helped out my situation-most were chill, some I dodged, all were drunk. All in all, a fun night. And the view! God I wish you guys could be here to see it, they dont know how good they have it!

I met this guy named Fernando who, though I am usually not phased by the many beautiful men here(cuz there are so many),stole my heart with his kindness. Dont worry dad, hes chill. Things are so straightforward here, people dont like to play games, they are honest about their feelings. He told me that my smile makes him happy and he happens to live not too far from me! Momma, if u were here Id introduce you to him. Girls, I know you wanted to know about what men are like here and not too long ago I would have sed overly aggressive, hot and with a exaggerated sex drives. Of course this is generalization. Nando is passionate but calm, and we talk(at least try to) about personal things...deep things...I am sure I am overromanticizing everything, but can you blame me? If you stand right close to the edge, you get the very best view.

Al otro lado del rio

2010-03-05T10:07:00.000-08:00

The first song on my playlist is not a portuguese song, it is called `Al otro lado del Rio`(On the other side of the river) And it is a song that moves me. I wanted to explain to you the significance of this song for me...it is about struggle and hope and it has a beautiful and universal meaning. I hope you love it as much as I do, the translation is as follows:

I plunge my oar in the water
I carry your oar in mine
I believe I have seen a light
On the other side of the river

The day will come when we will be able to conquer
Little by little, the cold
I believe I have seen a light
On the other side of the river

Above all, I believe that all is not lost
So many tears, So many tears
And I am an empty glass

I hear a voice that calls me,
almost as a sigh :
"Row, Row, Row!
Row, Row, Row!"

In this border of the world
Where there isn´t a dam, there´s barren land,
I believe that I have seen a light
On the other side of the river

I, very serious, go on rowing
But inside and I am smiling
I believe that I have seen a light
On the other side of the river

Above all, I believe that
all is not lost
So many tears, So many tears.. and I
am an empty glass

I hear a voice that calls to me,
almost as a sigh :
"Row, Row, Row!
Row, Row, Row!

I plunge my oar in the water
I carry your oar in mine
I believe I have seen a light
On the other side of the river

The song is about life, love and frienship. About going on, serious about the changes you want to make but loving the world and the experience deep inside. Muy adentro, sonrio(I smile deep inside myself.) It is the hope that allows you to keep on rowing. I am both imprisoned in this world, yet free, at the very least, to row on...
Rema, Rema, Rema.

Child Psychology? Anyone?

2010-03-04T00:38:00.000-08:00

So an update on the daily struggle. In the classroom with 25 monsters jumping up and down.(Everyday is less like teaching children and more like playin wack-a-mole) So the only way to keep monsters busy is by giving them paper and crayons. The girls draw houses with birds, the sun, grass and flowers and the occasionally rainbow. Many had apple trees and some had rain. Though u may not notice the trend with these series of pictures, the girls tended to draw the suns on the left hand side, while the boys tended to draw them on the right.

The fact that the pictures were so similar made me wonder about the few differences. How come some have rain and some dont? Why do some pictures portray rain more uniformly than others?

I thought maybe I was overthinking things until I got to the boys pictures. I wish I could display to you these gruesome depictions of war and unnecessary killing the boys drew, but they all wanted take their pictures home to show their moms.(Yea...I kno) One of them I really admired, a man was on top of a bus shooting a flamethrower at a burning plane and burning someone up on the street. Yea its too bad u missed that one. And then he made the sun with a smiley face on the right hand side....

But! My good little Anderson let me keep his and my goodness...talk about a picture speaking a thousand words...check this out.

So his house is on stilts in a bay filled with giant killer sharks. The figure on top is him shooting at the sharks. The one a floor below him is his mother shooting at the sharks. The one in the window is his four year old sister, because that is where she would be most safe(by the way, he told me all this) And the one staring curiously over the boat is his 6 year old brother.

After looking at the picture admiring the creativity for a couple minutes I asked´Is your father here?` Of course implying the second meaning. First, he responded, no. An answer that was telltale because he drew in the rest of his family but not his father. Then I asked, why not? And he said, well, yess, he is there..hes just sleeping in the boat and you cant see him...an even more telltale answer. If you were me you would have wanted to cry to. Anderson´s only ten but hes gotta protect his mommy from the sharks. If anyone can enlighten me on any other meaning please,feel free.

On a lighter note, I was also given a panoramic picture of flowers, I liked that.

Also, I am really appreciating how the kids are kinds picking up on the english thing(some even are tryna throw some spanish in there)Stefani, my favorite if I had to choose, remembered how to say Pineapple! And I have to say, that is one of the fruits whose pronunciation in english is the most different from in portuguese.

Alice Walker

2010-03-01T20:02:00.000-08:00

Before you knew you owned it

Expect nothing. Live frugally.
On surprise.
become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely

Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.

Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.

Discover the reason why
So tiny human midget
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.

-Alice Walker

Investment

2010-03-01T14:05:00.000-08:00

First there is a physical investment of time and labor. You are rushed into a classroom with 25 animated crianças on a caffeine buzz. You know nothing about how to discipline or teach children but for the fact you have three siblings yourself. But your mom always told you to let her discipline. The language barrier makes it difficult to keep eveything in order-the kids are using a bad word you never heard of, glancing at you to see if their gonna get in trouble and then rejoicing at the fact their statement went over your head. All you can say is dont fight and sit down.

A month goes by and you are teaching them manners. They are no longer a multitude of tiny malnourished hands fighting for a cup of water and spilling it over in the process. You learn their names and they remember yours. You dont sucede the water unless they say ´Quero agua por favor. Obrigado, tia Nicoli´ They are learning and so are you. They hate the time apart from you and so do you, but theyre still little crazy monkeys throwing rocks and singing when the rain comes.

Then you start to understand what the adults are saying-in their tears, their desperate appreciation of your presence, you understand that finances are a downward spiral and this was a bad month. You didnt know this before. Maybe you feel tricked into heartbreak-the first few days they fed the kids a balanced meal with meat and rice and beans and salad and fruit and juice. Even a desert. It felt good then, you drank as much coffee as you wanted. Now you are sitting in meetings and understanding more than you would like about how much work and support it takes to support a nonprofit organization. It indeed takes a village. You think of how many times it was just you with forty kids, and that in 2 months they wont have you. I cant look at Cadec like a mismanaged bank account or a failed project. Instead I think of Geisanne, the support staff with two adorable kids and a smile like sunshine. From day one you didnt understand what she was talking about but you knew she already loved you. Dalva, the mother of the kitchen-the cook who, just when you thought she was more reserved than the rest, buys you a pair of earrings and offers you into her home. And God, when she does smile...(You later find shes suffering of a disease you havent looked up in the dictionary yet) Stefani, the pretty little girl with braids and a round face the complexion of coffee with the brightest teeth-you try to teach her to say strawberry and end up lauging about it for an hour with her cuz her pronunciation is adorable. Even bad boy Samuel sits on your lap before the rest of the kids arrive and he has to be bad again.

Today was a dark cloud my heart wanted to disappear-the director of the group that oversees Cadec and we talked of expansion. In my heart I wanted him to have brought a thing of juice and some chicken. Cadec houses a cloth making facility with over 15 machines, yet only one woman works in there. I see the potential here of making more money. This woman is talented and has quite a few clothes to offer. Maybe you can find someone else to work here, Nicole? Cadec gets a portions so every new warm body is a help. Maybe you can find some people whod be interested in buying? Geisanne was browsing and said this shirt was as bright as I am-I saw it and decided i would buy it-only about 12 bucks of value. But it is my first investment. Made with love and belief that things can get better. They were all so surprised and excited at how much I loved it and how quickly I bought it.

Cadec will be more than an investment of time for you. You could always sit around for four hours and write up a journal of the meaning of service. But when I think of this place, I think of myself-so much potential for good. It means so well. The hard part is not coming here every day, taking the 30 minute commute back and forth, caring for somebody elses babies and helping strangers clean, cook and administer.The hard part is when you love them.

Great Nights wirh Greater people

2010-02-28T12:07:00.000-08:00

2010-02-28T11:41:00.000-08:00

The earthquake in Haiti was an event more devasting than many of us have ever experienced. The event turned our attention to the disastrous state of the country and the many persons living well below the poverty line. It was a disaster that took the lives of more than 200,000 and displaced over a million. The world is touched by the magnitude of what has occured. When I look at these pictures, they do not nearly match what as a child I imagined the world would be like. I do not need a touching anecdote from Hollywood to understand the urgent need in that country. Over 200,000. It never occured to me how many Haitian friends I had until this tragedy. It was petrifying being able to do little more than call and make sure they at least were alive. Who knows the rest of their family.

I am not at my University now, but when I return this summer, I would like to do a major fundraiser, as many are doing. As many are doing, I would like to collect funds and food and send them to Haiti. I would like to celebrate Haitian culture and invite my friends to celebrate as well. I think so many péople realized how lucky they were to be Haitians living in America this year...

There are now more people covered in dirt. An earthquake with a magnitude of 8.8 in South America took the lives of 400 on February 27th. It has hit over four countries, including Brazil, destroying homes and displacing many. The earthquake triggered a Tsunami that is bound to hit the Pacific coast. I am not sure where, but I do know that people all over the coast are moving inland. I am hoping my family in California is not affected. Please keep my posted about the effects of this tsunami. All these things seem impossibly close, hitting closer and closer to home. But we must not take this as some vengeance of the earth or the manifestation of some ancient prophecy. We are all powerful in this world, and there are some monsters we ourselves have put in motion. We are not just the helpless victims, and we must cease looking at ourselves this way. If you must die for a cause, look around you-we aren´t short of causes. If you must live for the moment, do so, conscious of the fact you are a moving element of the world-tiny yet visible, and you are capable of bringing relief. So shed tears in your penthouses for the things you don´t think you can fix, but remember what it took you to get there. Remember that nothing ever was easy. Maybe you didnt dream it would be like this either. But here we are with the tools and the means and nowhere to go but up. I am not afraid anymore. The world is growing and I too must suffer little white hairs...

2010-02-26T13:19:00.000-08:00

I can not begin to explain how difficult it is to take a minute to write on this blog. I am always doing something or with someone or running around or eating or gone etc etc etc! I have been here for a month and, though I certainly feel at home by now, I am not settled down. Ive still got so many touristy things to do and people to meet! Whats more is that the workload, both in my politics and my portuguese classes have begun to pick up because carnival is over. This I am glad for because i am accustomed to everything being fast paced back at UVA and I looove keeping busy.

Ive had a great introduction to the rhythm of Brazil. Brazillian history is similar to the states in some manners, massive bouts of immigration, colonization, exploitation, political unrest, displacement and finally a makeshift solution to a long engrained issue of racism and inequity. Such is life! Today we began our classes on grantwriting and I am so very excited to learn how to have this experience of formal writing. As some of you may know, I would like one day to open up a chocolate factory and, though it may seem a private enterprise and not a public service, the purpose will be to increase minority employment in NYC and expand the pool of skilled minority workers by reinvesting into the community of Harlem. I will need to know how to write a proposal for a grant to ask for startup money.

This week I most say, I feel old. All along, with every passing day in Brazil, I have indeed felt anewed, but this week, I am grown. Not old old, but old. The kind of, OMG my life is starting old. The kind of you better fudge some confidence and get out there into the real world old. The kind of, are people looking at me? I am aware not only of my eyes but that others have eyes as well. At Cadec, my volunteer internship, I have been informed that money is depleting. Everyone was crying and emotional. The volunteers that I have become accustomed to, are leaving because they can not afford to continue working there. No one is getting paid, I never knew. I keeping thinking of the kids who will have nowhere to go and no one to stay with if this place closes. Of the meals they wont eat and the attention they wont get. I cant help but feel emotional. Today I am a person with means who has not yet learned how to utilize them. Today I am asked to do something. American, can you help? I should and can, but how? Today, as my friend was straightening my hair,she passed me a white hair. MY FIRST WHITE HAIR. There was only one but I almost started crying, I couldnt hear anything, everything was a blur...I am getting older. Im 20! Im 20! When I return to college I will be legal to drink in the states. This is the first time I am afraid of my life. This is the first time I am afraid for my life.

Vitoria

2010-02-24T02:59:00.000-08:00

Though Vitoria came as an afterthough to our week of carnival, Caleb and I thoroughly appreciated the luxury of spending this past saturday in the more upscale part of town. Vitoria, similar in appearance to the east side of manhattan, is situated a bridge away from Vila Velha and is about a 30 minute bus ride from my house.

We visited a mutual friend, Fabiana, a spunky fun chick from Philadelphis who has come back to revisit her Brazillian roots, and hung out with her roommate Gaby and her girlfriend Carol. Apparently, there is a large and visible lesbian population in Vitoria. I have to say, it was quite a relief to chill with the more bohemian type and, if I did not know I was in Brazil, I would have definitely felt comfortable saying we were somewhere on the uppereast side of manhattan.

There was a padaria( if I use this phrase its because they are everywhere, all it means it a little bakery) Across the street from Gabys house, and I was stunnned by how charming it was and how delicious the food seemed. It was a small scale boutique Im sure, but compared to the ones back home, the food was surprisingly reasonable. Can you see the chocolate cakes! They call them tortas here. I stared at it so long, I myself decided a picture would last longer and took a few. It even began a conversation between me and the lady managing the bakery. I asked her if she made it and she looked at me laughing and asked ´are you serious? I can´t make that, I just sell it.´ It sure had my tastebuds going, imaging that smooth dark chocolate feel inside my mouth. Do you see the little Garota chocoloate bom bom perched on top? They consider that stuff luxury man...

I instead ended up procuring some suprisingly authentic japanese food from a restaurant across the street and found a sushi roll with sundried tomato inside. Have you ever seen that? Maybe its not so crazy novel as Im making it out to be, but I thought it was pretty cool. I also ended up buying some sexy brazillian avianas(chinelas) that were pink with gold designs. I wear them every day now! I have only been away from Vitoria a few days, but I already miss her. Though vitoria has the best city by far, Vila Velha most certainly has the best beach, in fact the differences between the beaches are so extreme that I may not even swim in the Vitoria beach again for fear that I may spawn a new limb. Anywho, Vitoria my love...you have not seen the end of me...

An Excerpt of Pessoa, My Useless Literary God

2010-02-22T15:54:00.000-08:00

"I don´t know the meaning of this journey I was forced to make, between one night and another night, in the company of the whole universe. I know I can read to amuse myself. Reading seems to me the easiest way to pass the time on this as on other journeys. I occasionally lift my eyes from the book where I am truly feeling and glance, as a foreigner, at the scenery slipping by-fields, cities, men and women, fond attachments, yearnings-and all this is no more to me than an incident in my repose, an idle distraction to rest my eyes from the pages I´ve been reading so intently.

Only what we dream is what we truly are, because all the rest, having been realized, belongs to the world and to everyone. If I were to realize a dream, I´d be jealous, for it would have betreayed me by allowing itself to be realized. ´I´ve achieved everything I wanted,´says the feeble man, and it´s a lie, the truth is that he prophetically dreamed all that life achieved through him. We achieve nothing. Life hurls us like a stone and we sail through the air saying, ´Look at me move.`

Whatever be this interlude played out under the spotlight of the sun and the spangles of stars, surely there´s no harm in knowing it´s an interlude. If what´s beyond the theatre doors is alife, than we will live, and if it´s death, we will die, and the play has nothing to do with this.

That´s why I never feel so close to the truth, so initiated into it´s secrets, as on the rare occasions when I go to the theatre or the circus: than I know that I am finally watching life´s perfect representation. And the actors and actresses, the clowns and magicians, are important and futile things, like the sun and the moon, love and death, the plague, hunger and war among humanity. Everything is theatre. Is it truth I want? I´ll go back to my novel..."

Ah! All of my writings are just Pessoa echoing through my soul! The moment I met him, I knew no landscape could cheer my heart. I am as bright as day, with a smile that betrays sincere happiness. Why then, when I compose, do I reek of blues? Who placed this soul here and wrote these lyrics? Who taught me minor chord progressions and the temptation of irresolution? You´ve played a love story so many times, you think you wrote it. And of the love stories you have written? Have they been so tragic? Has not every lovc been another revolution? I recollect in solitude that I am soley a creation of the leisure class. If I did not love literature, I would not have to die like this. Useless and intelligent, I retreat inside myself. May my pen halt at the truth.

2010-02-22T03:09:00.000-08:00

I know Ive had a decent rest when I have dreampt. Amanda, Caleb and I walked along the beach to the movie theater in the shopping mall that night and we saw this ball of light in the sky that scared Amanda. It was too far from the shore to be fireworks but too close to the ocean to be a falling star. We did not come to a consensus about what it was, but I dreampt about it that night. It was a gorgeous walk, its amazing how calming it could be to just walk alongside the beach, nothing special needs to happen.

Amanda is Calebs host sister, as beautiful as she is kind. You find here that despite how young people are here, many of them are way beyond their years in maturity. Shes only 16 but weve become good friends and shes probably more mature than some idiot 21 year olds I know. She bodyboards every saturday morning and Im going to start taking lessons with her. She is thinking about being a marine biologist and would love it if she became a professional surfer. Shes sensitive and sweet, and going to her place makes me feel back at home , kids dogs cats and smiles! Shes got this adorable dimple that was actually the result of a really bad accident when she was younger. I think it adds character. All things happen for a reason.

So that night we saw that valentines day movie which I keep forgetting the name of, but has all the famous actors in it, you know what Im talking about. Anyways, I was thinking of you dad as we stacked up on candy in the supermarket-we bought crazy chocolate, ruffles and ice cream and couldnt have stuffed ourselves up more with sweets if we wanted to. This was the perfect movie for that! Though I am not the kind of female whose usually into the romantic comedy, I will admit, this got a few tears out of me. Well done hollywood, I would reccomend it to even my dude friends(well all of you guys who said you cried at pursuit of happiness, if you didnt cry for that you just have no heart)

They have a cookie brand called Amandita Amanda! Thought youd like this:

Did some browsing through the mall and let me tell you something mom, the shoes!!! AHHHH, ok, not only gorgeous but crazy cheap(im talkin 20-30 bucks) for a pair of awesome sandals, stilletos, you name it. Im going to start putting up different shoes so you can let me know what kind you what, im def getting you a pair down here. Theyre really cheap because they produce their own shoes here. Let me know what kind you want! Below is a posting of some really cute sandals I liked, but they have crazy more variety than this, with awesome colors as well.

Chris and Tay Tay! Dont think I forgot about you....dudes here wear swimming trunks to class...however this beautiful specimen you see here below, is called a sunga....even shorter than a european speedo. Das allll yoou. Lol.

I dreampt that night about the light in the sky. In my dream it was a light opening up from the heavens, strangely my dream was just a still picture of the image. When I woke up, I thought maybe it was a ball of lightning.

Bom Dia

2010-02-18T19:47:00.000-08:00

This morning felt almost like every other morning in New York city, but for that they put too much milk in my coffee. I walk towards where the sun meets dawn, where the sound of construction outsings the birds, hope in hand. No one sees me in the crisp fog of daybreak, I am a consciousness breathing through the mist. Half awake, I skip my morning courtesies with the doorwoman, the bricklayer and the man at the newspaper stand. Like watching the birds in washington heights, I allow myself to observe and be observed.

The 20 minute break that´s not a break at all we get to sit and drink our coffee in the padaria across the street is all the freedom in the world. Sunlight through jail bars, these moments are tenderly mine. Caffeine pours into the yawning streets, and I feel the day grinding with human energy. Her name is progress-we don´t always know where she´s going, or if she´s right, but we can smell her anywhere. She may not always be right, but she´s never wrong-even if all she does is keep the heart of the city beating. Like an adolescent, I am itching for growth and staring into the jungle of my dreams...

The day is resolved in a layer of sweat and dirt-which sometimes is its own achivement. I stare at all my colors in the mirror and am proud of the bronzed arms I am wearing. The dirt does not go away, I am forever tanned by this place-stronger and more beautiful. When I sleep I am an orb of restless energy, comforted by city music.

We´ll be in trouble once they teach bricks to lay themselves. But for now this morning felt just like an Ny morning-they put a little too much milk in their coffee though.

2010-02-18T19:04:00.000-08:00

I am only the extremes-a wideeyed reckless child, consuming the world like a ball of candy, indulging for the very sake of, and also a deep penetrating sadness, aware of what she is not, conscious of the tedium of a beating heart, suffering the silence of God. No happy medium is worthy of life.

Seranata do Amor

2010-02-18T06:30:00.000-08:00

Love in Brazil, is spelled GAROTA. This is the name of the world famous brand of Brazillian chocolate which boasts of exports to more than 27 different countries. Though I was not allowed to take pictures, Caleb, Geli(my program director) and I visited the huge chocolate factory in the middle of the city of Vila Velha about a week ago. I was thrilled. Windows down riding in the backseat of the car, the aroma of sweet sugary hot chocolate fills the air surrounding and I indulged. Inside we wore clothing and hair protectors and were given a full length tour from manufacturing to production. I kept thinking about my chocolate factory I will open one day....(and also all that chocolate they must have stored away!!)

Anyways, at every stop they have barrels of chocolate where you can taste as many as you please(dont worry I didnt overdo it). They had milk chocolate, white chocolate and of course my favorite, dark chocolate, and every chocolate had some kind of surprise filling. Awesome sauce. The infamous candy which caleb and I bought by the pound at the gift store is this certain piece of heaven labeled Seranta do Amor(Serenade of Love).Below. I assume they must call it this because when the bom bom is in your mouth, Coltrane plays Mood Indigo outside your window. I have a picture of the melting bom bom below, it is a luscious chocolate fudge outside enclosing a wafer with white chocolate bursting out of the center. it is in sensations like this that you forget you exist for reasons beyond feeling. I will gladly send this love home.

On every Seranata do Amor candy bar, there is advice about love which is surprisingly poignant. For example:

My poor translation:

"Can love be transformed into friendship?

The natural path of love is to be transformed into friendship. But this does not mean that one thing has to end for another to begin."

How right you are little chocolate bom bom.

My Apologies

2010-02-17T07:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Family and Friends,

I must offer my deepest and sincerest apologies for not being myself. On this blog, you expected to find the deepest expression of my soul, and I have failed to provide. Well let me now compensate for the faults of the past....here my friends, is a little taste of some of the foods of Brazil....

Here we have the hamburger, an American import of course, but a strange take on the American version! Here, they include a smaller crunchier version of fries(Batatas fritas) inside of the burger! Its packed an occassionally has some egg as well. Many brazillians use a lot of mayo but i abhor this....

So I cant remember the name of this dish....but it is some kind of meat stew served over rice with some french fries on the side. It was bomb...I let you know the name when I find out...it was kinda hard to pronounce..

I promise there will be more! In fact, I will dedicate a blog to it....later.

Tchau!

2010-02-14T10:15:00.001-08:00

Estou apaixonada por o ritmo do Brasil...

Interlude

2010-02-13T17:43:00.000-08:00

Mornings and nights when I awaken,
my jovial sleep is depressed by a new reality:
My bed overlooking a window to a landscape of impossibilities. Therein lie the deepest desires of my soul, triggered by unconscious exposure to propoganda and the floating ideas of men. I am possessing the sensation of beauty, and eager for its actualization. But there are no worlds within my reach where fields sparkle like gold and the sky is an endless sea, and the ether that formed the earth is left at my disposal. No-any beauty that treds these parts I carried from slumber, opening my hands only to find its turned to dust in transit. Sadly, I let it slip like time through my fingers...

But there was a moment I was drowned in colors, and the novelty of the experience let me know that it was magic. I was a child swept under a wave, fear forcing my arms to resist. Eyes forced open in terror, I was soon calmed by a song of blues, purples and whites beneath the sea. Breath waning, there was no life to worry about, it was not day or night-it was a sensation my body possessed: dying peacefully. Yet as I slowed my own resistance, the ocean sensed my defeatism and threw me back into life,retreating again into its vortex of certain endlessness. When I arose, there were dark bodies sparkling in the shallow waters, laughing into the setting sun. In this world, the secret of my death is not a thing for poetry, but for the restless shadows of impossibilities I cast outside my window.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

To dream in life as well as in sleep, is to believe in ghosts. It is to carry phanotms, other-wordly fantasies, into the world of man and allow them breath. Footsteps where no one walked, a song with no composer, the whistling you sometimes hear-all the mysteries of sleepwalkers-those unforunate men who know not the difference between here and there.

I am one of them, living a million lives inside my head, loving for reasons that dont exist. To be ambitious is to presuppose a destiny. But what is this destiny? Of what is it composed? We can track a million years past by measures of erosion-but not a single minute into the future. I can imagine a potentiality, but this image is a mystery to be discovered. We are all subconciously casting images into that nonexistent space and time ahead, like throwing lines into the ocean. One or two may bite, but what of the ghosts who never manifest? They are put to rest and are forgotten in death. But from time to time, up from the racing oceans and streams, one may here the phantom song of a long forgotten dream...

Taking Myself Over

2010-02-12T18:28:00.000-08:00

So many things can happen in such a short amount of time. I think it was only yesterday, or maybe the day b4 that I left you with my last blog but it feels like a century ago. What day is it? I cant recall in either english or portuguese. I am able to express myself a little better=beyond yes i like and no i dont like, sarcasm, disdain and even inside jokes. Im glad I can express some subtleties. This blog is called Taking Myself Over because Brazil has been perfect at forcing me to come face to face with my main issue, my number one problem which is not taking the bull by the horns, letting life sweep me up like a wave and letting circumstance define me. Brazil is that place and Brazilians are those people that you can easily drown in. I am daily stimulated and distracted by their charm, the novelty of their day to day makes me forget from time to time the things I want to do. So quickly everything can become a blur, but I am begining to understand that it is this difference, the difference between taking life or letting life take you, that is the difference between content and happiness. If you know me at all you are aware that it is very difficult for me to be unhappy in a place, but I am learning now that if I am to get what I want out of these three months, these short ass three months, I am going to have to take that.

So you will find a montage of photos of a school my family took me to today-I was not entirely sure where we were going, I misunderstood and thought we were going to a samba party. Instead it was my little sisters(Nicoli really Gabys neice but shes like a sis to me) school where a youth samba group was coming to play the drums for the kids. Charming as it was, it was not exactly what I wanted to do.

The pics are adorable as are the kids celebrating carnival early. What you wont see are the pictures I didnt take when I left the house after we got back. Frustrated with my homestay sister who went off when I didnt understand what she was saying...I left to do what I had wanted to do since i got there...eat some crabs. I went to the best crab restaurant and the dude sat me at table 42. You the know the significance of this number for me. I ordered crab and beer(skol which is the best they have) and read some 20,000 leagues under the sea. Great book. Turns out my waiter lived in Boston 9 years and spoke fluid english, that was a relief. I indulged...I ordered some mocaco(sp?) the staple here, a shrimp stew and another beer and felt happy and full. Then I walked along the beach for an hour and bought u guys some gifts, also what I had wanted to do for a little while. I didnt have to go far til I walked smack in the middle of a samba street party, drums blasting people dancing in bikinis and sungas(male speedo but even shorter) crazy head pieces, beer, popcorn, rotisserie chicken and a booming gay and lesbian presence and of course tons of onlookers. Man I shoulda been born in this place. Wait till I learn how to samba....

Pics from Cadec!

2010-02-11T07:08:00.000-08:00

Dalva runs the show with the yum yums!! Great woman, awesome food...shes trying hook me up with her son, the one behind her is tryna hook me up with her brother, they brought me gifts!! I guess they all want an American in the family, lol.

Dont let there looks deceive, theyre like little adults

They all wanted to be on the blog!!These are my little monsters that I have to take care of Monday thru thursday...I get off thursday thru sunday which is awesome. Today was nutz...I had to keep them all inside even though classes didnt start yet. I could barely keep them in their seats. I am starting to see now how this is a school for the kids who need more atttention.

But I feel like I am not prepared for this kind of job. I can play with them outside all day and handle conflicts and feed them and make sure they dont pee in the trash can(yes apparently they have been doing this) but I dont feel like i am prepared to teach them things. After carnival(which is next week!!!) i will have 40 kids every day and Caleb and I will be teaching a class of English. I can barely speak portuguese!! Im excited and kinda freaked out at the same time. These kids are the most challenging but strangely caring that I have ever come across in my life. At least I have the practice of having you crazy kids as my brothers and sisters!! Im the oldest(other than Robert) living in a house turned nursery back home so i am quite accustomed to dealing with cretons....

2010-02-08T13:16:00.000-08:00

I suppose I am entirely missing the point of blogging if I dont vent at least once. So here it goes,
As I said, in Cadec, a school for kids through the ages of 7 to 12, about 40 kids attend in the morning and 40 kids attend in the afternoon. Most of them are a dream, some or not. But it is not the kids that get to me, it is the fact that for the last week or so that I have been here, I have seen nothing constructive done academically with these kids. Granted, they don~t start official school until a week from now(nobody does anything here until after Carnival) but why not plan something for the kids who are here all day? The facility has a bunch of volunteers who administer but it is usually, me, Caleb and another girl who play with the kids. As of right now, this is my job. To play games....tag, picoalta(kinda cool, u run from the person whose it and jump on top of something as base), hand games, we tell stories....its more like camp then school right now. But the kids sometimes look as if theyre dying with boredom until we come to play with them. They should be studying!!! And on top of this, they only have four hours of school, and they wonder why they have so many kids running around in the streets.

A friend of mine here whose in highschool said she was guna skip school this week cuz she doesnt want to go. There is no repercussion for this, her parents are cool with it and shes just not guna go....crazy to me. School is only four hours and she prolly wont be doing anything with those four hours.

Admittedly, it is difficult to study in paradise. You live across the street from the beach, all your friends, crab stands, street parties and carnival. But the biggest difficulty is the heat. It is very hard to read in the heat as it almost always puts u to sleep. I am coming to value New York City winters by being here.

I am also coming to value more things about myself...things like my race, where I come from, who I am..I was never really proud to be american but here they lover everything american, every time they beg me to translate a beyonce song i say u know we do have some other artists over here. Also, my hair. I thought I would be annoyed at the fact that I cant get it done bc its too humid to have it straightened, but it has become my mane. People adore my hair and they wont let me straighten it. I feel that I love it more than I ever have and I feel more beautiful than before...most ppl here think im braisilera until i start to talk. They thing Im from Bahia, where the majority of the african population is from here. The blacker u are, the more beautiful u are considered. In Brazil, there is much appreciation of the brazillian roots, and even the lightest skin people are proud to have african blood in their veins. How different brazil is from america, every woman wants an african man. Black is Beautiful..

Anyhow, I got off track but I suppose my head was in a bunch of different places. My initial romanticization of the place has subsided, now I must decide the direction of this love affair and whether we can work out together....TTFN,
Beijos,
-Nicole(Or Nicoli as they call me here)

A Day in the Neighborhood-Would you be my neighbor?

2010-02-06T06:43:00.001-08:00

2010-02-05T12:38:00.000-08:00

Cadec

2010-02-05T12:29:00.000-08:00

So I work at a school for children between the ages of 7 and 11 called Cadec(pronounced Cadeki) usually from 8 to 12 30 in the morning. Right now, Caleb and I are working with 20 kids. After Carnival, it will be more than 40...aycaramba. But the kids are awesome, they call u tia(auntie) and play with you all day and jump on u and ask u wat its like in the states and dance to michael jackson and throw bricks and tell u wat they wanna be when the grow up and trust you and love u like crazy. They are the picture of innoncence. They are not like kids in the states. They have no technolody and, bc skool is only four hours here, after school they are home alone until there parents come home. Imagine being a seven year old with no siblings home alone all day with nothing to do and nothing to play with. They are estatic when they have visitors and it almost makes you want to never leave if it will make them happy. I know I will be really emotional when I have to leave. I bought them some candy at the Garota chocolate factory, they say the kids like this kind the best so this should make them really happy.....

.

2010-01-31T18:38:00.000-08:00

´

Ro, Gaby e Bia

Bia is Gabys best friend who lives in the condominium. Every day we go over and call her name outside her window then go to the beach. Her bf is really awesome he has a motorcycle and he let me ride it once. It was awesome. Here they would say legao...i~ll tell u how to pronounce it later

2010-01-31T18:34:00.000-08:00

I love my new homestay mother!! She is the cutest thing, I came in and she sed mi cas tu casa. Both my mother and my sister are very nice and we go out with the whole family all the time. The dont want me to go to school, they want me to play and hang out. I oblige. Jk

2010-01-31T18:17:00.000-08:00

Me and my new sister-Eu e minha irma nova

2010-01-30T13:28:00.000-08:00

2010-01-30T13:05:00.000-08:00

Tudo bem?

Oi, I ~dont know where to begin. Ive been in Espiritu Santo three days and I feel like ive been here for months. The plane ride was over ten hours and we had a layover in Rio, of course....i had to check out rio. Caleb(the other American dude taking classes with me) and I met some German people(mike and mandy) and we all went to the beach near their hostel. We bought a whole chicken, some pao and lemonade and chilled by the most beautiful beach in the world. COPACABANA. Wow, people from rio are beautiful and kind, and their from all over the world. I sensed no kind of racism.

Now i am with my homestay family in Vila Velha 5 blocks from the beach(also gorgeou) lucky for me-cuz i love ppl-i live in a condominium where my homestay sister iontroduces me to 50 million people every day. People here are so open and liberal, no jealousy or hatred, just mad fun. I rode on a mototcycle with a dude named Vinissu. What a thrill.We visit my sisters(Gaby) best friend Bia(Beatriz) every day, and its like a tv show. We go to her door and yell Bia!! and she comes outside. Everyone is very close. I find it hilarious hpw when i or Gaby wants to party, the whole family comes. My mom(josane) came to a club with us, that was pretty awesome.

Anyways, I could go on for months about the first 3 days but I wont. Ill post pics and videos so u can see for urself. Love u guys soooooooo much. Estou com saudade de voceis.

Beijos,

-Nicole