Final Countdown

I have been thinking about the final days of my study abroad experience for a while, especially during low moments. I thought I would be happy and excited to go home, but I find myself feeling very conflicted because a lot of me wants to stay. I was taken in and loved by two Brazilian communities- my neighborhood and my capoeira academy. I kept telling people I would return in a couple of years, possibly for the World Cup in 2014 to avoid facing the reality that I may never see my friends and family again.

I had a lot of ups and downs during the ISP, mostly downs for the first half and ups for the second half. After the first half, (which I think is where I last left you) I quite working at Projeto Axe due to some unfortunate events and started to become what I can simply describe as a capoeira groupie. I would spend most of my days and hours with the capoeira professors- doing what they did and watching the art and beauty of capoeira. I have never been so intimately involved in such a different type of life style.

Last night was my last night with my host family in Salvador, and I decided it would be a good idea to pack and start to detach myself from my former 4 month life. First things first- take out all my braids and start to look more American than Italian. Like leaving my neighborhood, this process took a bit longer than expected because I was more attached and meshed together than I had anticipated. What I mean by that was, I had left my braids in for so long that parts of my hair had started to dread. After two hours of picking and pulling, I finally have semi-normal yet much thinner hair. Like my departure, de-braiding hurt, but I think it will be good to be clean and normal.

We are now back in the orientation house, which is about 30 minutes outside of Salvador (by car) near the airport. ISP presentations are today and tomorrow... Friday will be reflection and then we have a happy 5:00am departure on Saturday. Devin is going to meet me at the airport in Miami later that day (6PM Dev, don't forget if you are reading this!) and we will be going out to celebrate his graduation and my return. I leave at noon the next day for Montana and will start work at Mountain Sky June 15. I'm going to be a busy bee, probably starting tonight when I attempt to put my presentation together for tomorrow.

I created, produced, and directed my first documentary which will premier for the first time tomorrow. In short, the film is about Projeto Axe and how capoeira promotes health with children in the situation of the streets and children in teh favelas. I plan on passing out motion sickness pills before hand. I have watched and edited the film so much I'm not sure I will be able to watch it again tomorrow.

Ok, I got to go. Sorry this post was so scattered and disorganized. I will be HOME in 4 days. Thank you to everyone who kept up with my blog throughout the semester. I look forward to seeing my family and friends soon. Much love.

#1 Threat: Rain

If Stephen Colbert lived in Brazil right now, his #1 threat on the threat count down would be rain… bears would probably be number two. Oh, what a crazy week I’ve had. Recently, the rain has developed this nasty habit of pouring off and on all day, every day. The rain dictates city life. Rain means less buses, more traffic, and more of a pain to try and walk around. Take yesterday for example: I spent two hours (when it usually takes me 30 minutes) traveling to work to VERY disappointingly discover that all events had been cancelled due to rain. I was drenched and my former bright and cheery yellow umbrella was looking very disgruntled and sad, kind of like my spirit. Do my advisors call me to tell me all has been cancelled? No. Do I get sexually harassed by the main director of street educators in his car on my way home? Yes. I ended the day curled up in my bed, watching “Heroes” (thanks to Julia) with a liter of Coke Light.

Today I had glorious plans of going to the beach but alas, the never ending rain ruined them. I came home to find Igor curled up on the bathroom floor. Fatima told me in an unsympathetic tone that he went out last night and drank too much. At first I thought, “Aww, poor Igor.” Then, after listening to him puke his brains out (all the walls are paper thin) I started thinking, “Poor me! I am stuck in the house and have to listen to this!” Like Fatima, I am now also unsympathetic. I decided walking downstairs to Fatima’s house to type out this blog and some emails sounded like a better plan. Puke in peace, Igor.

I may or may not go to a birthday party in Liberdade today… it depends what this crazy weather does. Tomorrow, if it’s sunny, I plan on going to the message beach and surrounding myself in new, peaceful scenery. PLEASE DON’T RAIN TOMORROW!!! All I want is to be dry.

Next week I am going to work more with street kids in the capoeira center. I fricken LOVE Projeto Axè! It’s such a great program, minus the douche bag administrator. In short, Projeto Axè uses art, capoeira, and dance to give children in the situations of the streets self-confidence, self-worth, and a means to become productive, healthy citizens. The children have to first agree to go home or live in an assigned house: in turn, they get three meals a day, access to health care, a choice of which program to participate in, and a change to work to replace street wages. At the moment, Projeto Axè is helping over 1,000 children in Salvador. It’s amazing and I’m really lucky to have this opportunity.

Hippie Town

Last week I started my ISP which will focus on the benefits of capoeira for removing children from the streets to homes. I met my academic advisor on Thursday and started interviewing/filming on Friday. It´s a little scary taking my video camera in public, but what will happen will happen. My advisor is a true city girl, pretty cold. I´m glad I only work there for one week.



I found a University that hosts college kids from CA near Campo Grande, where I now get free internet (b/c I pass as a gringa) and where I met a surfer from CA named Lucas. We were talking about cheap get aways and he mentioned a place called Aldeia Hippie in Arembepe. I left on Friday afternoon by myself with a backpack full of the absolute necessities, a little money, and the names of the busses/Aldeia Hippie/Arembepe on a piece of paper.

I was a little nervous, especially after arriving in Arembepe in the dark and without a clue of where to go. I took a moto-taxi to the edge of town where the driver dropped me off with a curt "Aldeia Hippie- straight". I gave the guy an extra $10R to walk me into the village. It somehow had slipped my mind that hippies don´t use electricity and I would arrive in utter darkness. Shoes in hand, we waded through a stagnant river and then up a sand bar, dodging palm trees and getting a little light from the many stars overhead. After narrowly dodging the hidden rear end of a horse I arrived at the "Janice Joplin" house. It looked fitting, so I bid my guide goodbye and stepped inside the little open hut made of palm trees, old plastic tents, and many numerous other objects.

The man of the house (Cezar) should have his picture in Webster under Brazilian hippie- an indigenous Brazilian with a full head of long black dread-locks wearing a turquoise speedo, lying in a hammock with his woman, complete with five little hippie children eating popcorn on plastic chairs- eyes fixated on a mini battery TV. After a little small talk, Cezar said I could sleep in the hammock for $10R. Ta bom.



I didn´t get much sleep- mainly because the dog kept barking, and the rooster began cockling at 4am. At one point, the rooster was directly beneath my hammock. When I woke up, I started talking with the family about how life was like in the Hippie Town. People visit from all over the world to camp and smoke mj. Everyone was very friendly and laid back. As I was exploring, I met a man named Cacao who owned a pousada in the village. He was very friendly and hospitable. As he was showing me around, he shimmied up a palm tree and opened a coconut for some delicious coco de agua. One of the main attractions, besides the enourmous amount of weed, are the turtles that lay their eggs on the beach.

I was planning on staying until Sunday, but I freaked out and high tailed it for Salvador later Saturday evening after exploring the nearby town of Arembepe. The hippie´s were great, but I needed a companion in order to feel safe. Amanda!! Why did your apendix have to burst?!

On Sunday I went to the National Ballet of Cuba with Julia in a very fancy theater near Campo Grande. For $15 US I got into the nose-bleed section and enjoyed 3 hours of beautiful dancing, while being surrounded by the most well-dressed white people I have seen since my arrival in March.

Two very different experiences, one really great weekend. I want to go on a different adventure every weekend until I leave on June 13. Suggestions are appreciated! Until next time, my hand might as well be glued to my umbrella because the forecast calls for rain every day, all day.

Pagode

I just returned to the grind in Salvador and thought I should catch you up on the end of my village study in Santo Antonio de Jesus. I think this was by far the best two weeks I have had in Salvador. I was completely and helplessly submerged into Brazilian culture and had both hands in the health sector. Most days we would walk door to door to check up on patients, register new patients, administer vaccines, regular check ups, you name it. Other times we would be sitting side by side with public health agents in the post waiting for the rain to stop, waiting for a task, or just waiting for no reason. Never in my life have I done so much sitting, pondering, and waiting. It´s a great thing I was blessed with Maritza as a partner- our long, deep talks about life were the best time fillers.

All Brazilians know how to have a banging time, especially those in the interior because there is not a lot to do otherwise. The 10 hour pagode/fogo party was the icing on my village study cake. Typical Brazilian party- total madness. The floor was dirt which quickly turned into mud. There were two main venues- one was the main stage with pagode/fogo music and the other was a small DJ cement area with techno music. As soon as main stage switched artists, people would hurry to the other "techno-club" venue. Brilliant- non stop dancing. I like pagode- it´s a dance that makes you forget you have bones in your body. Unfortunately, we only stayed until 3 am for the entirety of the pagode. Fogo, the main attraction, didn´t start until 4 am. The later it got, the more the dangerous equation of (men + alcohol + cloth wrapped around fists= fights + police beating people off of each other) started to make me nervous.

As I said, I have returned to Salvador and started my ISP today. At 8am I went with a program that hands out a hot breakfast/groceries/and clothes to children in the situations of the streets- street children in a non-acceptable term because under Brazilian law all children are protected by the Constituion of 1988 and the government is responsible for providing all children with homes and numerous other rights... I personally have witnessed many situations that scream other wise. I am living with my original host Mom which is wonderful because we get along great and Fazenda Garcia has a lot of character and a good typical Brazilian vibe.

I can´t believe I am only here for one more month!! I want to finish up my ISP in 20 days so I will have time to visit other places in Brazil before I leave- possibly the Pantanal region like my Uncle David suggested to see the amazing wild life.

Santo Antonio de Jesus

Classes finally wrapped up and I am in the middle of my village stay here in Sto Antonio de Jesus. It is a small city located on the other side of the bay from Salvador. The voyage to the city was beautiful- a short ferry ride to the the other side of the bay and then a rocky ride through gorgeous green Bahian country side. The country side is full of small hills, many palm trees, various animals eating grass on the road side, and some houses doting the horizon. It has been a great break from the concrete and bustle of Salvador.

Last week I helped vaccinate people over 60 years of age with local PSF agents. PSF, in theory, is a Brazilian national health program that focuses on prevention in families. PSF centers are placed in the middle of neighborhoods, primarily low class, and contain agents that check up on each individual in the assigned area. I really like PSF because each agent resides within the assigned community and knows the socio-economic realities and necessities. The agents check for dengue, HIV/AIDS prevelance, tuberculosis, hypertension, diabetes, etc. They administer vaccinations and help educate citizens about healthy life styles.

We had some interesting vaccination patients. The trouble about working with elders are that they are very forgetful. They forget how old they are, they forget if they had the vaccination or not, they forget what their name is, they don´t know if they slept, etc. One woman in particular, had a combination of all these problems. The hardest part about PSF is that they patients can be non-compliant a lot of the time. This is a combination of a lack of education and trust in the Brazilian health care system.

This past weekend we went to a beach called Itaparica, the same beach I went to over Easter weekend. It is a very local beach with few tourists and lots of great views. Everything about the beach is cheap and wonderful, so I will most likely be doing the same thing next weekend.

I have some real school work to catch up on and a presentation about domestic violence to prepare and give on Wednesday. Beijos.

I am Amazon Woman

First, I need to give a huge shout out to Daniel Gilbert. I was instant messaging him (while I was supposed to be researching) and I was bitching about how Brazil some times really puts me out. He set me straight by telling me that this is a great opportunity and I need to get over myself and focus on enjoying the remainder of my time here. So, I have been doing just that since our conversation.

This past weekend, the group traveled to the Ilha de Mare. This island is still considered a quilombo (run-away slave community) because the population is mostly black Africans and the island is very primitive (ie limited electricity, no doctors, no school, etc). The ocean more or less completely dictates life on the island. When it rains, water collects in the wells and water is available for use. When there are many fish caught, there is plenty of food and money. When few fish are caught, people go hungry. The island was beautiful despite the ugliness that lay closely beneath the surface. There are no cars and horses and donkeys either strolled alone or carried passengers and materials from the water's edge to the top of the hills near the banana fields. I felt like an Amazon woman running along the ocean in the cool morning, in what appeared to be total isolation and undeveloped, raw country paradise. My soul has been restored and I can now handle the remainder of my time in the big, bad city of Salvador.

At the island, we stayed with host families and had a health fair clinic on Friday. With the help of health workers, we set up stations for DST/AIDS, water, waste management, dengue, nutrition, etc. Many children came and to my and others dissapointments few adults attended. The island believes in traditional medical care and as a result, skin rashes are treated with coco de agua instead of anti-fungal creams. Women give birth to babies in canoes en route to hospitals in Salvador because the ambulance boat doesn't arrive fast enough. It was very eye opening to see such a lack of basic structure.

This week is our last week of classes. Soon we will be staying in a village study in Santo Antonio de Jesus and closely after that we will be doing our idependent research studies for the last month before returning home! I need to touch up my final research topic proposal before tomorrow. Wish me luck! Much love and I will try to touch base again soon.

The Robbery

The title says most of it, but here are the nitty gritty details of how the robbery went down. Alex, my Colombia U friend, and I were walking to school on our normal route at our normal time at 9 in the morning. The only unusual part about Thursday was that I was carrying two bags full of my personal belongings with the intentions of going away to a nearby island for the weekend, as we didn´t have class on Friday. I brought my camera, cash, credit card, debit card, running shoes, dresses, school books, personal journal, running clothes, swim suits, towel, jewelry, etc.

As Alex and I approached a fairly crowded bus stop near a small shopping center, three men came out from behind one of the many iron gates on the sides of the street. They began to tug at our bags. At first, I didn´t think much about it. Brazilian men have grabbed my hair and shoulders many times, but I just shrug them off and keep walking. These guys (mid-twenties) however, kept pulling on the bags. My eyes fixated on Alex´s- was this really what I thought it was? The robbers then informed us that yes, in fact, we were being robbed. One of them also informed us that he had a gun under his shirt. As the event unfolded, I tried to formulate Portuguese sentences in my head to make a deal with the robbers- take all my money but please leave my school books, notes, personal journal, or other things which would be worthless to them. In seconds, the robbers had gently taken our bags and easily ran down an alley and out of sight.

Being the slightly sheltered Montana girl who has never been robbed, I started to weep incessantly. I wept because of the robbery and because I haven´t released any other frustrations or confusions throughout this experience. Alex, the Boston native and now New York City girl, pouted for about a second before becoming impressively angry and released a long string of profanity. My favorite rebuttal- (Alex to me) "I hope the robbers are happy with our stuff, and I hope they have a fun time sticking all your tampons up their butts!"

After a long day at the police station and on the computer, I came back to my neighborhood to discover that many people I had never seen before knew I had been robbed and offered their condolences.

Then, yesterday, I came home to discover my backpack and Alex´s yellow bag on my bed! Apparently, a security guard had watched what happened and had chased and caught the robbers later that morning. One of the robbers did have a pistol and was not bluffing like I thought. I got a pair of shorts, my school books, personal journal, and Portuguese dictionary back. Alex got her swim suit and books back. There is good here!