lost in brazil

"How will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?" -Meno

"To be lost is to be fully present, and to be fully present is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery. And one does not get lost but loses oneself, with the implication that it is a conscious choice, a chosen surrender, a psychic state achievable through geography." -R. Solnit

And so I set off on this road...to lose myself for a time, to find what it is I am looking for. But where to begin? I am here, now. Brazil, Rio de Janeiro: A dense sprawl of concrete and cobblestones and sloping shantytowns seemingly built on top of paradise itself, 12 million inhabitants deep. It is easy to get lost here. I only need to step outside and walk in any direction. Lost. Lost in the street names and the endless grids. Lost in the language, the music, the smells, the laughter and shouts of the streets at night. Lost because I am anonymous here, though some recognize me as the "gringa" in the neighborhood. It is a welcome feeling to step outside of the known constructs of Home, of English, into unknown territory. For now I am taking a break from the familiar and letting the road dictate a little...

The Streets...
I've been here for just over three weeks now, and I'm only now sitting down to write. In the city that never sleeps it can be hard to find reflective time. Rio is nicknamed the Marvelous City, and truly it is that. I love the lushness of the landscape here and the diversity of architecture and people. Along the many miles of beaches are beautifully inlaid cobblestones in black and white interwoven designs, dizzying like one massive MC Escher piece. So, too, are the people of Rio interwoven in black and white and every shade in between. It's beautiful to see so many colors glimmering side by side on the beaches. Unfortunately, people of different colors/economic brackets don't mingle much here elsewhere. The economic gap is definitely pronounced in Brazil. The rich are very rich by American standards, and the middle class live in what we would consider ghetto. The majority of people in the country are below middle class, living in favelas, shantytowns constructed out of leftover materials: brick, cardboard, corrugated tin, whatever. Driving by the hillside the other day I saw a rundown spiral staircase connected to a balcony by rope alone. Indeed many people seem to be holding on by a thread here. Still, I am struck by the celebratory spirit that seems to be overwhelmingly present here, and I'm reminded of the richness of simple things.


I met a bunch of kids selling bracelets in the street for 50 cents...When I asked what they were playing, they pointed to a plastic table displaying a variety of beaded creations and replied, "We're not playing, we're working!"




Weekdays, I'm living and working in Rio. Weekends, I'm rambling...Buzios has some of the most beautiful beaches I've found so far- thirty something in all. For two whole days I did nothing but hike to little cove beaches, swim, kayak, eat fresh fruit & drink coconut water...



On "normal" days, I'm living with a friend from U.C.Santa Cruz, Liana, her Brazilian husband and their sweet 10 month old baby boy. It wasn't my initial plan to stay with them, but it's worked out really well to live in their office and babysit from time to time. They've got a great apartment in Leblon, one of the swankier neighborhoods of Rio, two blocks from a lovely and very lively beach. It's been really nice to start out here with friends in a family atmosphere with plenty of support and lots of Portuguese and English flying around the place. One of the first expressions in Portuguese I learned this time around was "Ka de Cael?" "Achou!" (Basically peek-a-boo). It hasn't proven to be that useful an expression in other situations, but who knows... more to come...I'm off to class.

kiss...