Mysteries of the Moon

As I look out the sky last night I was surprised to find a full moon low on the horizon yellow and magestic but totally full winking back at me. You see I distinctly remember there being a full moon about 2 weeks before in Brazil, as I always notice the moon. When I was in the Southern hemisphere last time I discovered that there are different constellations and they are seen differently but for some reason I didn't think that the moon could be different or on different cycles but they are. It really does play tricks on your body as well if it is sensitive to the lunar pull. Girls will know what I mean about this.

Let's hook up Brazilian style :)

Street art from Rocinhos

View from Rocinhos, a favela in Rio de Janeiro

Everyone loves Stephanie here :)

Opportunity, Montevideo by the medical school

Severity of the storm in Montevideo. Just imagine what it would have been like in a building with cardboard walls...

Street art and inspirational words

Storm's end, the sun graces us with her presence after the semi-hurricane in Montevideo to ensure my hasty return. My heart was aching this morning, I did not want to leave Montevideo. The only comfort was Brazil.... :)

Candombe dancing and music in the streets, I could lose myself here for a bit with tanto gusto

View from the top of a fancy hotel in Montevideo where Ismael and I snuck into to use the bathroom and cheekily go sightseeing

Enamorada

In listening to some of Ismael's CD's from Uruguay, I have decided I am overwhelmingly in love with the country and totally smitten with the Oriental Republic of Uruguay. Ever since hearing the name, I have been a bit mystified on how it could be "oriental" but once again, everything is relative. In Spanish, oriental means to the east of. I remember my first debate in Central America over directions and orientation and discussing whether Livingston in Guatemala is South or East, etc. Uruguay is a fascinating country as it is one of the few that I know of other than the US whose name is a description rather than proper name. Like the US, for example, is one of three united states in the Americas. There are the united states of Brazil and Mexico. The Oriental Republic of Uruguay describes it's position on the map relative to the Rio Uruguay.

One of the reasons I am in love with Uruguay is the fact that the President Tabare Vasquez is a socialist Oncologist finally righting all the social injustice having accumulating over the years. The fact that the health minister, Dr. Maria Julia Muñoz, plays drums in a Candombe band in the streets on the weekend. Are you starting to feel the love as well? It is somewhat like a large family, the populace with the grand majority being so genuine, kind, humble but with so much to be proud of. As a small country there is an interesting dynamic with their less than humble neighbours, the Argentines. There is a soft sort of longing or what the Brazilians call saudade in the Uruguayans. There is just so much texture to the eyes, the untold stories of the peoples and a slight reluctance to plant the seed and release the layers of tension.

What interests me a lot about the country is that Uruguay is an indigenous name but the indigenous were killed off en masse in the 19th Century. I would love to learn more about the nationalism and ethnic identity of the region. It seems fascinating.

Sol

I have been rediscovering the beauties of afternoon light. I had almost forgotten how magical it is as it tiptoes into your bedroom to wake you up. There has been an almost permanent cloud over the southern bits of South America when I was there. Just somewhat escorting us around. You could almost joke that it is reassuring, something constant. Being not entirely twisted and born into sunlight, I, personally don't follow that logic. I am a bit shell-shocked however confused where I am. What language I am speaking, trying to relearn old customs. It never seeks to amaze me how quickly the human shape can adapt to new circumstances. When trying to get past a eldery man and child on the street just now, I wanted to say, Disculp or Licensia, portuguese for excuse me, or please may I go by. It just is in my head regardless of the fact I am not in Brazil. Granted, it has been only 3 full days since I have been back. I went to an Ethiopian restaurant with my visiting yoga teacher from SF, Jonathan and I almost said, obrigada, and then almost gracias to the waitress (portuguese and then spanish for thanks). I almost think I am going crazy but recognize it is natural. Looking at trash bins in toilets also confuse me somewhat. You see, humans, although being easily programmable, take time to be reprogrammed, especially when the two programs seem compatible and interchangeable.

I am in love with my garden. While I have been away it seems to have been pining for me, just growing larger and larger. The lavender plants resemble bushes a bit, the pineapple sage is turning into a reasonable size bush, something resembling a sunflower seems to be forming.

It is early September which could mean one of two things, or maybe various depending on the microclimates, but the two mainstream ones are: Summer is ending and fall is coming OR Winter is ending and Spring is coming. As I am currently in the northern hemisphere it is indeed the former. There are some curled up leaves on the ground with the haunting call of autumn. It is confusing on my body as I just left the Southern hemisphere with everyone getting excited for the big spring party on September 21st. It was lovely seeing the flowers on the trees in Argentina reminding me of what is March in the North. My house smells like peaches right now from the farmers market and I hear the neighbors children upstairs that sound like elephants needing ballet lessons...

Depende

As I was walking past the semi former crack den on the corner of my house in DC through the earth, Hennessey bottles and cigarette butts, my immediate reaction was of course, this is dirty. I then reflected upon where my shoes had previously been: fighting the somewhat open sewers, with various manifestations of garbage and mysteries of the street turning the soles of my new sandals from a bronze to a black in the rains of the favelas in Rio. As I have said many times before, everything is relative. Nothing is certain, it can all change depending on the circumstances. So I suppose outside my street does not seem so dirty anymore. What a word anyway. Dirty, how non-descriptive is it. Dirty, the act of having dirt on it. Why is what is considered to be fertile and life bringing, such as the earth, turn into something meriting disdain? Strange the way the world works sometimes.

Stormy

The weather here seems to keep being stormy. All hell has broken loose since I have been gone. With hurricane Katrina, I have been told that petrol prices are now around 4.00USD per gallon, which is a bit insane. after the quasi hurricane in Uruguay and now the extreme weather here in Rio, I am beginning to think something is out of whack in the world...

Meat market

Rio is just simply too much fun. I now know why I didn´t come before. All I have done the last couple of days is see how I can stay. Last night we went to a club Castelho do Pedras in Recinhos, a favela here in Rio. It was a total meat market. At first they hustled all the foreigners into the VIP section so that they had space to dance. It seemed a bit boring to me so I bustled my way down to the sweat shop down below and proceeded to get almost molested by all the attention. Some English girls had a hell of a time trying to get some aggressive brazilians off of them. my strategy was to hang next to some brazilian girls who seemed to be on top of not letting annoying men get the best of them as they were great dancers. The music was brazilian funk and a lot of undulating ass shaking. Of course I had a blast. Some guy was trying to chat me up but i let the girls have a go at him to protect me. He didn~t seem that interesting and quite intrusive.

I have to admit the feeling is completely sexual there. the men are walking around shirtless with sculpted bodies and some of them not seemingly wearing underwear. It is a bit like mating season as the guys pass by say something charming, they go back and forth talking and then it is tongue action. This girl that I befriended told me that the kiss from the guy she found was very delicious. Then the guy disappeared, and came back. Like an open buffet. i don~t even think that she got his phone number. she got another guy´s phone number. It was quite amusing. The same thing happpended the night before with a friend Ana Paula. I turned around and she was kissing this guy. I thought maybe it was her boyfriend. i later found out that she doesn~t know his name and she has a boyfriend elsewhere. two girls I met have boyfriends almost twice their age. Joyce, the girl from the favela is 19 got married when she was 16 and has a 2 year old. she manages a restaurant.

I was at a samba school on Saturday night. Mangueira. I had dreamed about going to a samba school here for a very long time. It is a bit like an open shopping mall with an open ceiling. the drummers are up on a platform overlooking the ground floor. the center is flags and tons of people dancing. It was amazingly fun. It was still going full force at 430 when I left.