Brazil: Rio de Janeiro

23.08.2013

• After an exciting and busy week in Sao Paulo, it is time to leave the largest city in Brasil and head for the quaint, seaside community of Rio de Janeiro, a village of just 6.3 million people. Yriss is coming with me and so Ernie (imaginary travel companion; see blog post for Panama City) has decided to stick around a while longer. Ze wants to check out a few more museums and head to the beaches new Sao Paulo for a while... with a certain special someone that ze met in a samba bar near our hostel (imaginary friends can have elaborate storylines. Speaking of major and minor characters in stories, I will now link a story that Kevin sent about an artist who explores the portrayal of Asians through beautifully awkward kisses: Tommy Kha). 
• Ydriss and I caught our bus which was no more spectacular than any other. We stopped for lunch. We napped. I listened to music. Ydriss watched a movie. I di get to help him build a couple of spreadsheets for his business which was fun. It was nice to have some "work" to do for a change. We arrived in Rio as the sun was setting and caught our first glimpses of the city, the surrounding mountains, and Christo Redentor, the famous Statue of Christ the Redeemer, lording over it all. After inching through traffic, our bus arrived in the terminal and we commenced the work of getting ourselves to the final destination: El Misit Copacabana Hostel. We were greeted by a host of smiling faces, the first meeting of a hostel staff who would become friends. They showed us to our beds; mine, the top bunk in a stack of three in a room with a total of 18 beds, the largest hostel room for me to date. I will say good things about the hostel and the staff but I cannot vouch for the cleanliness or organization of 17 roommates. It is amazing to realize what you can acclimate to and learn to sleep through. 
• Ydriss and I started our night with a walk to Copacabana beach, a favourite destination for tourists and beach-seeking locals alike. The expected late-night beach scene was in full swing with permanent kiosk restaurants flooded with diners under tents accompanied by live music. The promenade was alive with bicycles, skateboards, inline skates, and feet moving along the path adjacent to the busy Avenida Atlantica which is lined with hotels, bars, shops, and food stops. Under the illusion that we are living on some sort of budget despite the receipts from Sao Paulo to prove otherwise, we walked a couple of blocks inland and found a hip tapas place called Mais Que Nada (More Than Nothing) with its modern rock theme complete with vinyl records for placemats. With one server from California and the other from France, Ydriss and I felt right at home as we shared our steak and cheese covered fries and I contemplated the contrast of my travel diet from my standard, snacky life back home. An apple tart dessert was followed by the bill and a conversation that landed a recommended for a samba bar. Overall, a more than successful restaurant choice on all levels.
• We walked home to refresh and unwind before catching a cab to Samba Luzia, a live music venue housed in a nondescript building near the airport that looks like an unfinished office building. We paid our entry, went through security, scaled a flight of stairs to a large concrete room, and  ascended another set of stairs, drawing ever closer to the booming music. The staircase opened to a large rooftop patio with a sound stage built in the middle and terrific views of the city, the bay, and the omnipresent statue of Jesus illuminated in the black hillside as if floating above us like the North Star. It was nearly midnight when we arrived as the crowds were just beginning to fill in every spare space of standing room in a sea of conviviality where Ydriss and I may have been the only foreign nationals. We bought drink tickets and collected our 40oz bottles of beer and made our way for a good view of the opening act, a woman who entranced the audience with her smooth samba vocals. Perhaps looking like "outsiders," we were approached by a lovely couple who welcomed us to Rio over a proud "Saude!" salute. They are both school bus drivers (he is retired) with two children who are traveling in various parts of Latin America right now. We talked about the importance of family in Brasil and the common experience of children remaining at home long after high school to help them financially and because they often just want to remain together. I learned the word Saudade, which describes a sense of nostalgia and the desire to relive the fond memories of the past while holding hope for the future. It was used to describe the sadness felt when children finally do leave home and the longing for those times when they the family was still together. Without a direct English translation I am happy to have a new word to add to my vocabulary. Ydriss and I danced and chatted with our new friends as the night's main act made it to the stage: Monarco, an 80 year old man who has been playing samba in Brasil for 63 years and has been cutting albums since 1970. The vibe in the room was spectacular as Monarco made his magic and the crowd sang along with the set list at full volume. It was almost too great to walk away from but the little hand on the 2 and the big hand on the 6 said it was time to get some sleep and home we went, content with our first night in Rio de Janeiro.

24.08.2013

• Ahhhhh; first full night of sleep means that I did not get out of bed until noon. But, that means that I was able to talk to my 4-hours-behind-me boyfriend for a while until we were disconnected by my failed computer battery, just as I was starting to talk about travel fatigue. Today is one of those, “Where am I? Where is the grocery store? How many tourist sites do I have to see? How long have I been gone? How far away is my partner?” kinda days. All of this means that I need some beach time and not to push myself. This is not a work day.
• Ydriss had not waited around for his lazy friend so I set out on my own, starting with a stop at the grocery store (which, thankfully, is at the end of my block) for some snacks to accompany the small breakfast I ate in bed. Then, a walk to the Copacabana beach to snag a few photos. I was there maybe 5 minutes before I realized it was stupid to be fully dressed and planning for a walk instead of mostly naked and planning to fall asleep in the sand. Change of plans. On my way back to hostel I stopped to buy new flip flops - Alicia, same brand as yours but decided for all black – it goes with all of my outfits and they were cheaper. Back home I found Ydriss and was glad to have some company walking back to the beach where we found a nice plot of sand to set up camp and where proceeded to strip down to the very tiny red swimsuit I bought from Ronnie D. in Costa Rica. Initially I felt a sense of exposure, less to the sun than to the eyes on a mid-Saturday beach. A quick look up the beach revealed all sizes and shapes of bodies all scantily clad. I had read about the booming beauty industry in Brasil that accompanied its growing middle-income population but was glad to see that the beauty culture seemed to embrace a wide range of forms and a comfort with the human body and the many pleasures it was designed for. We laid out until the sun went down, the indirect light of winter so pleasant on my (protected) skin. The white sand, like corn starch, clung to my body until I had the good sense to buy a sarong to lie on. I got some negotiation help from a couple from the Northeast United States who also offered some tips on where to find good nightlife and the best company to check out for local tours.
• Ydriss went for a walk and so I headed home to shower before stepping out for dinner at Tipacamente, a restaurant I passed walking home that was brimming with Brasilian people which is always a good sign. I ate a simple plate of file de frango com frits (grilled chicken with fries, rice, and a salad) that was generously portioned, well prepared, and delicious. Home again, I found Ydriss who was hungry.Naturally, I took him to Tipacamente where they gave me a funny look and quick laugh at having returned less than 30 minutes after my meal. 
• This evening was a tourist milestone: my first trip to Ipanema beach, the location made famous by the bossa nova song, The Girl from Ipanema, performed by Astrud Gilberto, along with João Gilberto and Stan Getz, which is the second most recorded song in history. The main strip along the beach in Ipanema was even renamed Rua Vinícius de Moraes after the song’s writer.

• On recommendation from our hostel, I ended up at Emporio Bar, a small space just 200 meters from the beach with a lively mix of locals and tourists who spill out onto the streets as the party grows. I met another Brasil tour milestone in ordering my first Caipirinha, the national cocktail of Brasil which is made with cachaça (the most popular liquor in Brasil), sugar, and lime. Also ordered a basket of kibe, a Lebanese beef croquette popular as a street snack in Brasil, served tonight with lime and hot sauce. Delicious. Ydriss had gone off to another bar so I stood alone enjoying the atmosphere until approached by Suraj and Nishant, two men from India who are in Rio for three months working on an IT contract job. They were so open and friendly and great conversationalist. They gave me lots of tips on things to do in India and promised to help give me contacts there as well. They will be back in India in October when I arrive so hopefully I will see them again when I am there. In the meantime, I have two new friends in Rio and will be glad to spend more time with them.
• In the cab ride home I reflected on what a full but relaxing day I had enjoyed in Rio in spite of my late start and itinerary-free approach. It's great to have the luxury to allow some days to simply unfold and the resources to traverse the options available to those who have vacated their work lives. I watched the ocean crest Ipanema beach under bright street lights and thought how timeless the meeting of the sand and sea is compared to the firecracker pops of my illustrious travel. Time to sleep and wake to dream. Headlines in Rio today: Teachers Close to Agreement to End Strike. 

25.08.2013

• Today was another light day. I still feel tired from my trip to Sao Paulo and the pace of life I kept there. I slept late and worked on the blog. More than just writing what I did, it is also my chance to go back and research the things that I have seen and heard, to read articles, explore history and social context, and so on. Some things are good to learn ahead of an experience but there is plenty to learn after the fact too. I actually had some time in alone in the room too with all 17 roommates gone. I got to talk with Kevin for a while too which is always a highlight. 
• I finally got myself in gear and made it to the store for a snack and headed back to the beach with a fully charged camera. I walked north along Copacabana Beach to Leme and up to a rise along the rocks with a tremendous view of the sinking sun glistening off the wave and city. Body surfers climbed over the railings and flung themselves into the sea to catch the large, rolling waves before swimming back to grab anther swell. When tired they walked up the rock face in their flippers pulling on a long rope, timing the ascent to avoid a breaking wave that would occasionally sweep them across the rocks. The crowds passing by stopped to admire their bravery but attention soon turned to the sun sas it fell directly behind the statue of Jesus high above the beach. It was a quiet moment in which I churned my feelings of gratitude with an intense longing to share a sunset with Kevin. On the long walk back to the hostel I couldn't help but notice the families and lovers and love seekers that I passed. Without the winter sun, the sand and the air and the mood became cool.
• I stopped back at the store to get ingredients to make dinner tonight using the last of my pasta to make a primavera with broccoli, carrots, soy beans, and cherry tomatoes topped with salt, oregano, and Parmesan cheese. I ate and worked in the lobby, passing up parties for which there will be plenty of time. It was a quite and relaxing day. Well needed. Ok, here are way too many pictures of the sunset. Enjoy!

26.08.2013

• This morning I took more time to catch up on the blog. I am trying to keep up with notes from current adventures while continuing to research and write about my sojourn in Sao Paulo. I am still not feeling motivated to organize myself to "tour" Rio de Janeiro. The fear of having people ask me "Did you go to (fill in the blank with any important or popular site in Rio)" and answering "No" to every inquiry will get the better of me and I will map out a short list of must-sees and have-to-do's. Oh, the troublesome work of traveling. 
• Downstairs I was glad to reunite with Ydriss! I had not seen him since Saturday night and it was like finding a missing puzzle piece to see him in the lobby. I grabbed a quick lunch of leftovers from last night's dinner and we set out for some time at the beach. We flipped and fried in the sand for a while but our stay in the sun was thwarted by an ominous bank of clouds rolling in over the water. Sufficiently baked for the day and starting to get chilly, we retired to a small cafe where Ydriss ordered an incredible slice of cheesecake with a lemon meringue topping. Elle était magnifique! Or, in Portuguese, ele foi magnífico! A good way to start a day, I think.
• Back to the hostel to freshen up and off we were again to the base of Pão de Açúcar (Sugarloaf Mountain), a monolith standing at the sea with cable car access to the top. We had the most charming taxi driver for our trip who was delighted to talk about his trip to New York last year and to trade vocabulary lessons in Portuguese for our English knowledge. The aforementioned clouds obscured views of the peak but we were not here for a trip to the top anyway. Instead, we were there to rendezvous with a friend of a friend of Ydriss (a friend of a friend of a friend, to me) who offered to take us out and share a bit of Rio with two chummy travelers. Early for our meeting, we stopped at a cafe where Ydriss ordered coffee. I was content with the bottle of water I brought until another customer walked out with an amazing cup of frozen something or other. I gestured to the server, pointed at the drink, and asked for whatever it was. Whatever-it-was turned out to be a smoothie made with acai berries (the antioxidant super food) and banana! It was quite sweet but I couldn't stop eating it. I will be looking for this again soon. 
• After wandering past the beach we found and greeted Luz Marinas with a good, European, three kisses on alternating cheeks. We slipped into a cab headed for a bar in Urca, a wealthy neighborhood of Rio on the north side of Sugarloaf with a small beach, a beautiful marina, and a promenade along the water with a view of the city center and the Rio-Niterói Bridge. Luz (which means "Light" in Portuguese and is my original family name on my father's side) is from Sao Paulo but lived in Geneva, Switzerland for many years, thus the connection through Ydriss' friend. She spoke beautiful French and I was able to follow some bits of the quick exchanges between she and Ydriss. She is a bright and energetic woman; someone you would imagine that a great artist would call their muse. 
• We walked along the water to the entrance of the old Portuguese fort (now used by the Brasilian military) where we climbed the stairs to Bar Urca, a casual restaurant with some fancy food! After wine and cocktails our order of Camarão na Moranga, a dish of creamy cheese and shrimp served in a pumpkin. It's a traditional food in Brasil and this joint known to have the best version of it. I have to admit that it was pretty amazing and I kept going back for more despite knowing it would probably have a wee fight with my stomach later (I thought it would probably hospitalize my dear Kevin). Part way through our meal we were joined by Juliana, a woman of striking features who carries herself like a summer breeze in a winter storm. She works as an airline attendant for a private plane which files her boss and his entourage of Who's Who and Who around the world for business (MMA fight promotion) and pleasure. The walls seemed to glow and I found myself entranced by another evening with amazing new friends. 
• After dinner we all caught a cab to Lapa to a bar called Boteco da Garrafa (The Pub Bottle, a name I didn't remember but was able to see on the side the small sign hanging on the building on Google maps' street view!!! Amazing!). Juliana and I talked about relationships and work and our conceptualizations of people from the US and Brasil from the perspective of the other nation. This was not the first time that I heard people from the US referred to as more reserved and less open. Compared to Brasilians, I can't imagine how we could compare in warmth and openness. I talked with Luz about both the current protests in Brasil and the need for education to accompany action. She told me about her life in Sao Paulo as a child in the 70's during the military occupation of the country under a US supported dictatorship with a neoliberal agenda. She tole me a story about her neighbor, a well known singer and political activist, who jumped from his balcony to hers in their high-rise building to escape arrest for publicly promoting his views. Many artists were exiled during this period (1964 - 1985) in an environment of intense censorship. 
• We enjoyed a couple rounds of beer... actually, I don't know how to quantify rounds since they just kept refilling a bucket that sat at the end of our table which magically opened and poured into our glasses. Did I mention that I was taking the night off from drinking? Really, it's less expensive, safer, and just as much fun to be out without a drink and the sleep is better as well. Besides, I feel very aware of my grandmother reading this and want to clarify that I am not out drinking all night, every night. 
• Trying to save money and engage differently with Rio, Ydriss and I opted for a bus ride home instead of another cab. We waled to our stop near the Carioca Aqueduct which now carries passengers on a tram instead of water. We met a man named Luccas who helped us find the correct bus which also happened to be the bus he needed. He is a musician who had a very rough day but was hoping to find some peace with a couple of beers and the first chapters of a Thích Nhất Hạnh book. We added each other to Facebook and I might get to see him again on my trip. I am a person who makes friends easily but I have never been in a place where it is so easy to make friends. I must say, I love Brasil. 

27.08.2013

• Came downstairs this morning to sit on the covered patio and watch the rain for a while. Ended up talking for a bit with Martin (Mar-teen) who is here from Buenos Aires, Argentina to visit a friend. He is reading a book called Bienvenido Dolor (Welcome Pain) by Pilar Sordo, a Chilean psychologist who has written notions of happiness and sorrow in Latin America. We talked of life in our home cities and our time traveling abroad and our mutual interest in hiking to the Christ Statue which we may do together when the sun comes out again. 
• Ydriss walked through the front gate back from a search for coffee and we planned an outing to visit the downstairs this morning where we decided to make a visit to the Museum of Art of Rio. We took a bus which is always a logistical navigation trial in a new city but we made it safe and sound (sound body, at least). We stopped at a cafe before entering to grab snacks of kibe, coxinha, and Bolinos de Bacalhau - how I have grown to love meat fritters. 
• The museum is a beautiful merging of a historic building with a modern structure which houses multiple floors of beautifully curated art. Near the entrance was constructed a large model of a favela (a low-income community which places the viewer at a unique perspective to see the grandness of it but remain at an intimate distance. One room showed the Christ the Redeemer statue in popular imagery over time and explained a proposed project by artist Chang Chi Chai to plant trees throughout Rio to outline an enlarged shadow of the statue. My favourite exhibit here was an assemblage of art from private collection of Jean Boghici, the owner of one of Rio's first art galleries and an avid collector of 20th century art. The pieces were hung in the center of the room from floor, nearly to the ceiling in a double spiral design that invites the participant to walk through the collection and interact with the pieces which seems to interact with one another. There are benches in the center to sit and take in the exhibit as well as a large, metal figure of a woman in a contorted pose; an other viewer in the space. The rooms are introduced with a quote from Octavio Paz, Nobel Prize winning author from Mexico, which reads, "The image does not explain, it invites us to re-create it, literally, and receive it... The universe ceases to be a vast storehouse of heterogeneous things. Heavenly bodies, shoes, tears, locomotives, willows, women, dictionaries, all of it is a huge family, everything communicates and transforms endlessly. The same blood runs through all forms and man can, at last, be his desire; be himself." Despite the fact that the language places the male pronoun at the center of meaning in this relationship and "women" in the list of universal "objects," I find the words quite beautiful and continue to appreciate the exploration of humanness through art. 
• After the museum we lingered downtown to run a few errands and enjoy the bustle of the city at the end of the work day. Wandered to the Sao Farncisco Church which was sadly closed for the day. We found the Centro Cultural Banco do Brasil of Rio which is hosting a da Vinci show which I think I am just going to skip, actually. Another bus ride back to Copacabana to look for shoes for Ydriss but to no avail. We wandered the beach in the rain; passed a food stand showing movies with small groups huddled together under the shelter with eyes toward the screen. Now hungry, we popped into Mais Que Nada, the tapas restaurant we visited our first night in town, for a beverage. Finally hungry, we made our way out looking for something new for dinner and decided upon, you guessed it, a buffet! Actually, traveler tip: when in a new country and unfamiliar with the food options a buffet is a wonderful choice! You get to browse all of the items before making a random selection from the menu or asking a thousand questions of your server; you get to read the labels on items to begin to familiarize yourself with the names of dishes for later ordering; and you can try a little bit of everything to see what you like or don't like. So, score! My favourite new dessert: quindao, a delicious coconut flan.
• We stopped on the way home for snacks at a grocery store and then settled in to write for the evening. I have been rather tired this week and our plans to see Joao Bossco fell through tonight so I am opting for a relaxing evening at home. Sitting and typing for a long while this evening and finally caught up on blog. I learned so much in the process. 
• Lobby and patio were full of people. At one point someone leaned in to ask me where I was from which then prompted inquiry as to how in the world I could live in the United States and not go see Celine Dion in Las Vegas at Caesar's Palace?! Student from an out-of-state university traveling with a group to an academic congress here in Rio. His teacher and mentor, Sue, approached - had some very opponent questions about my travels and my learning: how I would learn about Brasil by staying in Copacabana? What am I really trying to learn here and did I have a focus? She sat and we ended up talking for a long time. She is a professor at the university and finishing her degree in linguistic communications. Her research right now focuses on why some people in Brasil pronounce certain words incorrectly (e.g. saying the word "vi-dro" (glass) as "vri-du") even though they have formal language education and can spell it correctly, often without even realizing they have made the mistake. While common and accepted in culture such language can also have unwanted impacts such as difficulty attaining certain jobs. Sue, also showed me a fun Youtube clip that she discovered while living in Denmark showing different people at a party trying to pronounce a common Danish dish - quite entertaining. If I have time later in the week she has invited me to stop in at the congress and hear her presentation though she warmed me it would be delivered in Portuguese only. She also shared with my her excitement about the recent protests in Brasil; the sense of urgency in her generation to stand against corruption as an act of love for the country and its people. An infectious enthusiasm. 

28.08.2013

• Ydriss' last day in Rio! Time to get moving! We grabbed a simple lunch across the street and then caught a pubic bus back to Pao de Acucre. Today was clear and warm, a perfect day to ride the tram to the top! There are two trams, actually, the first stopping at a lesser mound before grabbing a second tram to the main event. There are short walking trails around the apex along with the requisite over-priced food vendors and souvenir shops, although Pao de Acucre also boasts fine jewelry stores. I can't help but wonder how many marriage proposals have been accepted (or rejected) atop this monolith. As we exited the tram car, a recorded voice reminded passengers in multiple languages to "mind the gap" when stepping off. It reminded me of the multiple iterations of this phrase that have been used to describe causes related to the privilege gap that exists in multiple aspects of society such as housing and wealth.  
• Back to the base and a taxi ride to the rodavaria (bus station) for each of us to purchase our tickets out of town, mine for next week. Needing some sustenance, I was in search of a snack and made perhaps the greatest discovery of my life: bacon popcorn. Popcorn, with large chunks of bacon. It was sodium heaven. (This might be a good point in my blogging to apologize to all my my vegetarian friends for the copious meat consumption references - Tracy, Christina, I hope you will still hug me when I get home). 
• We caught a bus to downtown and were able to make it into Sao Francisco Church before closing, one of the more beautiful religious sites I have seen on this trip. We wandered around town a bit and grabbed lunch at a beautiful outdoor dining restaurant on a small square with a flower shop. After lunch we caught a bus back to Copacabana where we relaxed for a while and both spent some time on our laptops before gearing up to go out again. 
• Ready to enjoy our last night out together, Ydriss and I hopped on a bus to Lapa, the area of town we had gone with Luz and Juliana. Our first stop was a small, local restaurant and bar with a samba group playing and a soccer game in the background. There was something so comfortable about sitting here in a small space with just a few tables of friends sharing food and drinks and one woman who couldn't help but dance near the band. There was no frill, no pretense to the atmosphere on just another Wednesday night. 
• Our second stop was at Cafe Cultural Sacrilegio which was much more of a to-do. We listened to the samba sounds of Marcos Novatto and his band and shared a basket of fried manioc (cassava root) covered in cheese (this is not a heart healthy day, for sure). We met an entertainment marketer who suggested another couple of places after Macros' set ended but they were a big slow - it was only 10pm, after all. 
• We wandered up the street looking for a good live music venue and, along the way, I met Carol. Carol was with a group of friends who were all wearing shirts for ONG ECOA - Teatro Social, a local NGO that mostly works with youth from low-income communities to use theater as a social development and action tool. It was great to hear about their work - another instance of art and social justice intersecting. In the course of conversation I also found out that the Center for the Theater of the Oppressed was just blocks from where we were standing! Theater of the Oppressed (TOO) was birthed by Augusto Boal, a Brasilian theater director, writer, politician, and friend and associate of Paulo Freire who wrote Pedagogy of the Oppressed. TOO uses imaginative and interactive theater activities to explore social issues and our individual and collective relationships to them while also having the opportunity to experiment with different interventions to enactments of injustice, all facilitated by trained leaders called, Jokers. The format has now spread around the world and evolves with unique practices and theories and models as a living form of social art. I was fortunate enough to participate in a TOO event at the University of Washington produced in collaboration with Seattle's Memory of War theater company. Through this, I was able to participate in another TOO workshop in Seattle with a visiting practitioner from Bangalore, India which was thought provoking as well as being a wonderful way to spend time with my dear friend, Kevin Malgesini, on my last full day in the United States before leaving for this trip. 
• I digress. Ydriss and I waled to the Center for TOO, the office for which I have been trying to reach for wees without success. Of course, they were close this time of night so we looked for a watering hole to dip into and found the Lapa Irish Pub. Low and behold, karaoke night. Glory be, I thought, until I found out that karaoke ends at 11 PM and requests were no longer being taken. Karaoke dreams thwarted again. That is, until I was invited to join for the last song for which a group of friends chose the Beatles', Twist and Shout, and for which I was handed a solo microphone, to tear it up, which I did. We talked with the bar manager, David, for a while only to find out that he has a master's degree in theater from a school in London where he completed his thesis on TOO. You know, sometimes the magic of the world is almost comical. He has lived all over the world and was just now starting to get back into the theater scene after a year of practicing his Portuguese. We enjoyed a lengthy conversation over a plate of nachos. We were only interrupted a few times by the excitement of the Flamengo team's victory on the television which resulted in at least one broken plate and one broken beer bottle. A chat with the owner and some more local recommendations and we were out the door and heading for home.
• Back at the hostel, Ydriss got out his guitar and strummed a few tunes while I sang. If you know me, you probably don't think of me as the type to get embarrassed easily and you'd be right to think so. But, a small crowd of strangers sitting on a patio while I quietly sing with a friend is a level of attention that even I am not all that comfortable with. Solution: take requests and get people to join in. I was happy to have a chance to sing a little duet with Ydriss of Sitting on the Dock of the Bay for Kevin via G-chat. Another night of unexpected joys. 

29.08.2013

• Today, I say goodbye to Ydriss. I want to take a moment here to say that Ydriss has become such a dear companion and I will so miss the conversations we shared, his sensitive heart, his warm smile, his cheer, and his affectionate nature. I look forward to seeing you in Geneva, Ydriss! Get the place ready for me!
• I was a little heavy hearted but with an empty stomach, two conditions healed a bit by a breakfast of mango papaya and peanut butter with granola. I ate quickly and then  prepared my hiking clothes which, being all black, I joked they made me look like a trail ninja. Directions in my pocket, snack and water in my backpack, and I was out the door and in a cab to Parque Lage and the trail-head for the 2300 foot elevation gain hike to the Christ the Redeemer statue. Though anxious to start my hike, I found myself distracted by the beauty of the park including the impressive Escola de Artes do Parque Lage (School of Arts) which hosts classes, an exhibition of student works, and a bustling courtyard cafe with views to the statue up the hill. An adjacent exhibit hall displayed a massive constructed art piece of bent 2x4's spanning the length of the building with a spinning metal disk at one end - an industrial installation that seemed fragile and twisted and raw. The park also housed ponds, waterfalls, wild gardens, and a large castle-like tower which, didn't have a sign saying I shouldn't go to the top though the small barricade might have suggested that I not. Who's to say, really?
• Finally ready for the climb, I entered the main trail at a guard gate where I was asked to register and provided a map and verbal instructions, both in Portuguese, both somehow fairly clear, and both a little bit concerning at some points. The directions were rather accurate and I crossed the three waterfalls drawn on the page before arriving at the section that was has been pantomimed to my by the guard: a chain affixed to the rock face which must be climbed for 10 or 15 meters. The next section was more of a combination of stair climbing and root grabbing than real "hiking." My body was happy to inform me that I had not actually been hiking in a while despite the constant walking of a tourist lifestyle. Finally, I reached the tracks for the tram which takes tourists to and fro the main attraction. A few monkey fiends welcomed me to this milestone in the hike - at least that is what I would like to imagine was the intent of their howling and cooing. I waited long enough to photograph the tram car and then walked the final stretch of road to the top steering clear of speeding vans, the other common mode of transport to the Christ statue. I arrived a the ticket gate (yes, hikers pay for entry too) and was delighted to hear my ticket agents singing Paramore's The Only Exception. Naturally, I took this as an invitation to join them. We promptly decided to start a band together and I expect we will begin practice this weekend. 
• Took a few pictures but was starving and needed food so I made my way to the cafe for a lunch of salad and bean stew with a view out over the city. I was accompanied by a touring group of school children who cheered for the Czeck Republic Taikwando competitors as they exited the restaurant. My celebration of self-satisfaction in the sun after a good hike quickly became a chilly luncheon as a bank of clouds rolled in and covered the hill in a misty grey fog that but at my sweaty shirt and sent me inside for reprieve. I tried to wait out the clouds but it became clear that this was a futile goal and commenced the final ascent up the stairs to the statue itself. It reminded me of my hike to Lantau Peak in Hong Kong last year (after visiting a giant, seated Buddha) with the mountain sopped in grey without the incredible view from the top that most hikers go for. But, the journey is half the fun and there is always something to be found at the apex of a long climb; it's a question of what you're really looking for. Today, this find included the largest art deco statue in the world, and listed as one of the seven modern wonders of the world, it is quite a site to see up close. The form itself is beautiful with long, clean lines, and the expected curves of the deco style. Even without direct sunlight, the mosaic of marble pieces from which the body of the statue is made still seemed to gleam. Shrouded in clouds, the figure of the Christ looked down upon his visitors with their upward gazes and outstretched arms for the typical photo mimicking the stance of the Jesus. A buzz of noise rolled through the crowd any time the clouds parted enough for a clear photo of his face and folks turned their cameras for the event, myself included. Even at a tourist site like this there are moments of delight to be found in the solidarity of a shared experience and the excitement that people express in being a first-person witness to iconic imagery. 
• The cold got the better of me eventually and I decided to make my way down the hill. I was too late to buy a ticket for tram so was forced to take a van back to town (it would be too dark to hike back, sadly). My drivers and other staff members were surprised to hear that I had hiked up and concerned to hear I had done so alone. I assured them that all my research had proved the hike to be of minimal risk and that I had come well prepared, though I appreciated the concern. The bus wound down through the hillside as dusk faded toward to twilight, passing a favelas along roads lined by expensive homes, a remarkable juxtaposition. The trip was fast and bumpy and I am sure was the inspiration for Mr. Toad's Wide Ride at Disneyland. Happy to be at sea level again, I grabbed the mentor home where I made a quick outing for food and a walk through Copacabana. I had a few minutes to talk with Kevin tonight, after a day that I really wanted to share with him. Another wonderful day; still looking for the piece of my heart that I left in Seattle. 

30.08.2013

• Very slow morning. Feeling tired after my hike yesterday ad a lot of walking in the evening. Decided to take most of the day "off" (from what, you might ask). Out for groceries and then home to eat. Made it to the beach for a while. Came home and chatted with Kevin at work and took a short nap. 
• Woke up and headed to Ipanema to meet Suraj and Nishant, the boys from India who I had met last weekend. We chatted at their place for a while which has great views of Ipanema Beach and the hills behind. They introduced my to a new addiction: Guarana Antarctica, a soft drink that tastes like the guarana fruit from a tree in the maple family. Please don't tell my dentist I am drinking soda now! We went out for dinner and then back to the bar where we met, Emporio, which is near their home. We danced and talked and took photos. Somewhere along the way we met Jordy and Adam, Brits working in Rio preparing the IT systems for the 2016 Olympics. Always interesting to see yet another side of a country - the foreign-national-contract-worker-for-development side. We had a good time and I promised to see the guys again in Rio or in India before catching a cab home. 

31.08.2013

• Today I went on a favela tour. When I was first presented with the idea I had a lot of questions and concerns which primarily centered around what a tour of a lower-income community might look like and the ethics and impacts of such a venture. I read some critical theory on the subject including ‘I went to the City of God’: Gringos, guns and the touristic favela by Bianca Freire-Medeiros and Poverty Tourism, Justice, and Policy: Can Ethical Ideals Form the Basis of New Regulations? by Outterson, Selinger, and Whyte. Both text discuss the complexity of poverty tourism, issues of voyeurism, and implications for best practices, the latter outlining three forms of relevant justice issues: 

• Compensation justice:Are compensation schemes free from coercion and sustained by research on the values of those who stand to be compensated?• Participative justice: Have all affected parties given their express or tacit consent to the compensation scheme, the possible outcomes, and the expected activities?
• Recognition justice:Are any cultural terms unjustifiably privileged?

• After some careful thought and research into different tour groups, I decided that I was going to participate in a favela tour. My goal was not to observe people living in poverty but to learn about the social, political, economic, and ecological context for this segment of the Brasilian population. I also felt that my guide for the day, Simone, would be able to provide this context as a sociologist who has been working with the community we would be visiting for more than six years, currently conducting qualitative research to help give voice to community members' experience of the police occupation some favelas have recently come under. What's more, a portion of the proceeds from the tour fund a project called, Arte e Uniao, which is also giving voice to members of the community through art with personal narrative, similar to photovoice projects.
• Simone picked me up and we went to collect two more folks who were actually unable to join us. We got to know each other a bit on our way to Rocinha, the largest favela in Brazil and the subject of Carlos Drummond de Andrade's poem from my Sao Paulo Post. We were quickly greeted by local artisans who were out to sell their wares to visitors. Simone knows many of them as friends and we stopped to chat for a long while. Then, we walked up and down the streets and hills and alleyways, stopping for a beverage and various points of insight. Note, I do not have many pictures of my time in Rocinha (though many can be found online) as I didn't feel it was appropriate given the context of my visit. I have too many notes to want to write narrative paragraphs about what I learned but I will note a few things in highlights (according to this day of education):

1. The official count of favelas is just over 950; 33 are occupied by official police; 250 are occupied by militia groups; 650+ are occupied by gangs. Militia groups are comprised of former or current cops and firefighters. People in favelas cannot complain to authorities of brutality from militia groups because they belong to the authority agencies. Militias ask for money in return for protection similar to gangs (three major gangs exist; Rocinha was formerly occupied by the Amigos Dos Amigos or ADA until the arrival of the official police two years ago).
2. Governments are bringing official police in to remove gang violence in some favelas near major tourist areas in preparation for the World Cup and Olympic Games. Police arrive in tanks with heavy arms which people see as a type of military occupation. Official police are still known for acts of brutality. Official police are only planned to remain in the area until after the global sporting events after which time it is presumed that either militia groups or gangs will resume occupation of the areas. 
3. Development projects have been planned for many favelas including tram transportation systems to Rocinha. Local residents were not involved in the selection of development projects and would prefer investment in education and health care services. Development projects also include a process of documenting building ownership which also allows the purchase and sale of buildings which is leading to increased gentrification of favels with wealthy individuals and groups purchasing homes in favelas and demolishing them and sometimes constucting wealthy homes. Development projects are being pushed for in various neighborhoods, including Copacabana, for the investment and gentrificaion opportunities they bring. Development projects have also used imminant domain to dispalace over 8000 families, some who are foreced out their homes after they do not accept buyout offers from the city. 
4. 2014 is an election year. In Brazil voting is mandatory and a failure to vote can result in fines and an inability to access public services including education and an impressive 90% of eligible votes participate. Voting uses numbers to help people who are illiterate participate and there are no restrictive voter registration or identification regulations. Despite having critical mass, people in favelas do not receive much voter education (from governmental or non-governmental groups). Politicians sweet through favelas before elections with gifts and promises in an attempt to win votes which rarely result in positive change of residents and communities. Only one favela resident in Rio has served in high elected office, a woman by the name of Benedita Souza da Silva Sampaio, the  first female and Afro-Brazilian governor of the State of Rio de Janeiro and, later, Minister of the said Secretary of State.

• After the tour, Simone dropped me off in Copacabana near my hostel where I grabbed a quick lunch, booked some other activities for my week, and made a stop to the beach to rest for a while. Back home I chatted with Kevin for a bit and then got ready for dinner. My date tonight is Madel Luz (another Luz!), a professor of sociology who I met through Servas (an international hospitality exchange organization which has been recognized by the UN for its peace building mission) was originally going to host me for the weekend in her home before her son needed the room while attending an acupuncture and Chinese Medicine training. 
• I met Madel for an early dinner (that would be 8pm in Brazil) at Carmelo Restaurant, an Italian restaurant near her home. We sat and talked over a delicious meal; mine, a delicious piece of salmon with grilled asparagus and hearts of palm, and a side of Sicilian lemon risotto. Madel has researched human health services and the social history of medicine in Brazil. She studied sociology in France but has her PhD in political science from Brazil. She shared all sorts of insight from her career and the work of her associates and students. She told me about one researcher who is using team sports as a therapeutic technique for people facing addiction helping to heal childhood trauma, build social skills, and encourage personal development. She also talked about the limited military history of Brasil and how that changes the collective mindset of Brasilians and her perspective on current social action against government corruption. Madel said she does not participate in the manifestations (protests) because police have been indiscriminate in their use of force against protesters including children, older adults, and people who are differently abled. On a lighter note, I learned a great joke about Cariocas (people from Rio - people from Sao Paulo are called Paulistas) which says that a Carioca will invite you to their home but not give you their address, meaning that a warm spirit on the street may not always result in follow through of connection. It reminds me of a saying about the Pacific Northwest in the United States: people are very friendly but it's hard to make friends. 
• After dinner she asked me back to her home which is in a beautiful condo building near the water that won a design award when it was built in the 1960s. Apparently, no space in the building is the same and I can't imagine any of them being as warm and cultured as Madel's home. She introduced me to her son who was exhausted from another long day of workshops and then gave me a tour including a look at her broad art collection. I noticed a number of Buddhist items and books and, upon inquiry, discovered that Madel is a Buddhist and a Catholic. This blend of spiritualism and tradition seems befitting of Madel and also of shifting religious demographics in Brasil with declines in the numbers of reported Catholics and a rise in secularism. We chatted a while longer but I left her in time for us both to get some rest. I was even able to squeeze in a bit of Skype time with the Heils before bed tonight which is always a welcomed joy. 

01.09.2013

• Welcome to September! This means so many things! First, it means that I get to read another letter from Kevin's stack of monthly travel notes (so sweet - I am such a crybaby). It also means that today is my nephew, Kyler's, 4th birthday! 4 years old!! I got to watch him open presents back in Washington via Skype. His dad, Kyle, was Skyping in from Kuwait where he is stationed. At one point Kyler brought the tablet to the computer so that Kyle and I could say hi through technology. What a modern, international family we are. 
• My morning plans got cancelled so I ended up reading about Keith Haring, noted US graffiti artist who attained international fame in the 1980's. I also read the opening chapter of The Art Spirit, the critical manifesto of Robert Henri who bucked the National Academy of Design and produced the first nonjuried, no-prize art show in the United States in 1910. In the forward to the book, written by the author, he states:

“There are moments in our lives, there are moments in a day, when we seem to see beyond the usual. Such are the moments of our greatest happiness. Such are the moments of our greatest wisdom. If one could but recall his vision by some sort of sign. It was in this hope that the arts were invented. Sign-posts on the way to what may be. Sign-posts toward greater knowledge.”

• I chatted for a while with Courtney, an entertainment lawyer from New York who was riding horses in the north of Brazil and had some crazy stories about Ms. Havishamesque characters descended from wealthy plantation owners. She is trying to organize a last minute trip to see a coffee producer for a client, you know, "while you're in Brazil..." We talked about travel and work relationship to a culture of work and professionalism in the United States value of work. She offered a new perspective of how we relate to our workplaces (and those of others) as a matter of brand association - how we choose our associations with companies and other people based on an overall image and its marketability. I also developed a new goal for this trip: solve the World Riddle. 
• Next activity: football match! I decided it would be silly not to see a football match (read: soccer, anywhere else in the world outside of the United States) in the country known for its wildly dedicate fans and future home of the World Cup! I was picked up at hostel and the van already had another tourist inside. Tonight's game is Botofogo (from Rio) versus Sao Paulo. My new friend is a Sao Paulo fan but our tickets are for the Botofogo side which should be an interesting challenge for her. Note: separate entrances and large fences keep each side from getting any relative proximity to one another. Safety first. We collected one more tourist, this one from Belgium who, like me, was more interested in the rowdy fans than the game. When in Rome, as they say. While the final score was zero to zero, the game was not disappointing. Watching the arms flail as the volume rose from loud to deafening as goal shots were attempted and missed with a constant background of the two drum squads was more than enough to keep the adrenaline pumping and eyes wide for the whole event. Banners, jerseys, and giant flags all colored the magic of the spectacle as the sun set behind Maracana Stadium and the dome lit up with stage lights.  
• Home and got food at my facvourite local restaurant, Tipacamente, where the server was clearly humored to see me back again. It was home early to relax and try to get some sleep. I was thinking tonight about what you do when new is no longer new. Not just becoming familiar with a person, place, or thing, but when newness itself holds less novelty. The more I see of the world, the more people I meet, the more familiar and cohesive it all seems. In the end, without some thrill of discovery, I am left with the task to love myself, as I am, in this space, right now. Maybe people travel to learn more about the world and other people but the truth is that it all happens in the context of learning about yourself. What you find is maybe more mysterious and new than any mapped destination you could imagine. 

02.09.2013

• Today was a quick breakfast and goodbye to Courtney before I was picked up for this morning's activity. The car was nearly full and I was pleased to chat with my new friends, Jude, June, and Carmen. They are all from India but are living in Dubai and Oman! India and Dubai?! Hmm, two places I will be visiting next! Our car arrived at Leblon Beach to meet our guides where we relaxed for a bit and then checked in and got our training cards for the day. We piled back into cars and drove up the mountain arriving at a beautiful plateau with a view out over the city, beach, and ocean below. Have you ever been standing at the edge of a cliff and felt that queasy tickle in the pit of your stomach and just want to jump off the precipice just to satiate the fear of falling? "One; Two; Three; Run!" Off the platform, over the edge, and flying. There is some part of the brain that has to be switched off in order to trust your hang-gliding instructor enough to run off a mountain but it is always watching, like a duct taped hostage tied to a chair in the back of your mind, forced to watch the whole thing unfold. Still, the tension in convincing my body to do something against instinct was well worth it for the joy of soaring through the air at eye level with the circling birds. A little bit of trust in my pilot (who has done this flight four times per day for many years) and the miracles of modern engineering and I was able to relax into a beautiful, slow spiral descent to Leblon Beach. A soft landing in the sand and the flight was over and all that is left is the memory of the view and the nerves and the photos / video I negotiated a good price for. 
• Back on the ground our band of fliers decided to get dropped of at BarraShopping mall in the far south side of town. We wandered the massive complex for a while looking for odds and ends. I finally found a Portuguese phrase book written in English. It should serve me well despite the fact that it is meant for Portugal Portuguese and not Brasilian, which is different enough to make my febal attempts at communication an exercise in embarrassment. I talked with June for a while and discovered that she works in the transplant department of the primary cancer treatment center in the country. When she returns home she will be helping to open a brand new cancer center and help to train local Omani workers as part of a capacity building and sustainability effort. The new center will also employ medical social workers which are currently only used in behavioural health services throughout Oman, according to June. I exchanged contact details with my new fiends and may have a dinner date in Dubai and might get to meet June and Jude's brother who works with youth in low income areas in Mumbai. 
• I caught a bus home and rand some errands and rested up for a while. I had an interesting conversation with my roommate via the magic of translation phone apps and websites. I gave my standard apology for not speaking Portuguese and he responded with a sort of, "whatever" look before explaining that he went to the United States without speaking English. He said it was more difficult for him but not a reason not to travel. I think this is good advice, actually. Language is a sociopolitical and interpersonal and logistical aspect of culture that must be navigated with some awareness and, sometimes, with some struggle, but we shouldn't allow it to be a barrier in our attempts to connect with people and undiscovered aspects of ourselves. 
• Later in the evening I walked down to Boteco Belmonte, a restaurant in Copacabana, to meet yet another group of soon-to-be friends. My friend in Bellingham, Marian Beddill, lived in Brasil for many years and left to the country a number of well engineered water improvement projects as well as some progeny. Tonight I met with her granddaughter, Larissa, who brought her mother, Izabel, and godmother, Jacqueline, along for dinner. It was the perfect way to end my time in Rio, with three wonderful people who exhibited the same warmth and humor and hospitality and depth that I have become accustomed to in encounters with people in Brasil. Somewhere between the conversations about the education system, the importance of following your passions instead of the path of wealth for wealth's sake, and the humor to be found in child labour (23 years after the fact), I realized how blessed my life is to connect with such wonderful people. A few drinks, a few hugs, exchanges of contact details, an invitation to visit in Aracaju, and I wished my lovely new friends well into the night. My heart is filled and my mind is always awash with new thoughts as I learn from the world around me and the people who share with me. Thank you, Rio, it has been an honor and a pleasure.