Tudo Bem. Everything's Good.

Yesterday I returned from Raicao Gaia in Pantano Grande. It's a beautiful place founded on the principal that human beings should live as conscientious members of a greater ecosystem. The folks there grow what they eat, and they teach their visitors about the land they use and how they use it. It's a little like the folks associated with WWOOF.

I'm not sure of the objectives for the mid camp. Presumably the organization, ABIC, wanted to collect information about our travel plans, since in January we all of 4 weeks free from our projects. Another goal for our round table discussions was to inform the three girls preparing to travel to Europe about the types of projects that they're likely to encounter. The other exchangees received the letters that they wrote to themselves 3 months ago (I received the letter that I wrote to myself from my sending organization 3 weeks ago). So, certainly, one aim of the camp was to encourage reflection. Still while abundant free time was worked into the schedule, there was no time set aside to sit individually and quietly. But then I suppose everyone has different methods of spending time with their thoughts. I prefer to stop talking and to pick up a pen.

When I did finally exctricate myself from the group, in perfect introvert form (a silent panic in reaction to negligible and incessant babble from 25 other people), I wrote that listening to German, English and Portuguese at at once is like listening to music or eating a salad of basil, sliced peach, almonds, sprouts, sweet peppers and arugala. They're a multitude of flavors that seem not to match but which, in reality, complement and accent one another. Anyway, I was reminded of my trip to Caxias 2 weeks ago. I went to a language school there, along with another exchange, to talk about my country. It was a super pleasant experience. We walked in to see 60 empty chairs and several smiling women who offered us snacks and gave us a tour of the classrooms. Once the chairs were full, a couple of interesting things happened. After my presentation there was a question and answer session in which I was asked two difficult questions. One of which I'm not certain I actually answered. The first question was, "How do you feel about encountering so many non-native English speakers?" The other thing is that after Max's presenation about Germany he got stuck in a conversation about whether Germans are xenophobic. Every traveller from any country is treated as though he or she is responsible for the entire history of the country that he or she was raised in. A country is a heavy thing to have to carry around.

Part of my answer was that I find it frustrating that when I speak to people they do not understand the subtexts or the implications of what I say. I have a similar frustration with all of the things that are lost in translation when I listen to a Brasileiro speak in Portuguese. Language is intimately connected to shared culture, but still language is transient. When it commutes to a new country or series of countries it develops new branches and loses some roots. Even in conversation with the two British exchanges here it is difficult to communicate all of what I can communicate with another person from the states. We share a native language and a connected history, but two entirely different cultures. Of course, the differences lead to interesting conversations about race and segregation and travel and family values. The micro language faux pas lead to funny discussions about double entandres. Sometimes beautiful phrases come out of people's mouths when they're fumbling with a new language.

The other question was,"Who are your idols." How odd to receive a question like this. Interesting that solely by virtue of having been born and raised in an English speaking country my status was elevated (if only for an hour) to that of a d list celebrity. My first thought was "What?", and the second was "How the f am I supposed to answer that question?" So what I said was, "um. I like writers a lot. I could tell you who I'd like to meet," but that didn't work, so I said something along the lines of: I'm truly inspired by regular people who make it through their lives with some happiness. Living is not easy, and I think it's good to celebrate people who manage to be happy while they're going through it. I probably should have said, Mother Teresa or Ghandi or Marin Luther King, Jr., but I'll stick with my answer. And the person I'd most like to have dinner with is James Baldwin.

And you? Which person (living or dead and famous or not) would you like to meet for:

Breakfast with? Audre Lorde
Coffee? Charles Bukowski
Lunch? Kim Ki Duk (the guy who directed 3 Iron)
A drink? Haruki Murakami
Dinner? James Baldwin
Drinks? either the fellow who started The Moth reading series or The folks who created This American Life.

All of these instances of breaking bread are good for different types of conversations. Choose wisely.

To be honest I still haven't made any decisions about what to do when I return to the states. I have started to think about what to do for my free 6 weeks. I am going to join WWOOF and volunteer on a farm for a month. They'll feed me and give me shelter. I'll do manual labor, learn about organic farming, meet other travellers, and see a little more of Brasil. After that I'll make my way to a mountain or a waterfall to camp for my birthday, and if I've joined couchsurfing.com in case I need a place to stay or I get lonely. Next, I'll come back to Porto Alegre to attend the World Social Forum. When that ends it will be February and I'll have 2 weeks left. Who knows how I'll spend it. Oh wait, the second one is Carnival. I'm going to celebrate with the rest of the country.

A couple of people asked about my transistion from Jacque's house to Cinthia's house. I didn't write about it, because I can't think of a nice way to say what I want to say about my experience at Jacque's home, and it's nothing to dwell on. And the biggest issue between Jacque and I is that I'm too independent to live in her home. Cinthia has been lovely, but she'll be going on vacation for the month of December, so I'll be moving in with an older couple who live in Petropolis. It is a lovely neighborhood, and I'm sure they'll be very nice people.

will 2 grow in its place?

Today I found (for the second time) and plucked my first grey hair.

Now I'll go take a test to see how much Portuguese I've absorbed in the last 3 months. I'm officially midway through.

I don't know whether there is a draw to this blog, and if there is I'm not sure what it is. I suspect it has something to do with wanting to know the foods, the sights, the clothing and the different types of personal contact that go on in another country. I think it also has something to do with wanting to understand why so many people claim that travelling changes a person. Folks want to know how and in which ways.

Before the last paragraph I was going to write, there are days when I feel like I've had my fill and when I think I've done what I came to do. But if I can say that at 3 months of 6, then I must be in for some suprises. When I feel finished it just means that I've exhausted my expectations. I've adjusted.


Oh, Clothing: Many of the women here in Rio Grande do Sul where platform shoes, typically boots made from faux leather. They couple these gems with spandex leggings, you know the kind that little girls in the north use when it's winter. Here leggings are pants. And I object.
Food: When people sit down for almoco (that should have a cedilha, the 'c' with a tail) in a restaurant or at home (this is an afternoon meal)it looks something like this: salada verde, fejiao,arroz, carne e algo outro tipo de legume.

I live in a city, and when people are spiraling out from the center it looks like this:

Ambassador

Tomorrow I'll go on a road trip to Caixas to talk with some people who are studying English. I get to talk about the culture of The States and answer questions. I don't claim to be an expert in any field, but tomorrow my opinion will weigh just a little more than it normally does, because for some of these folks I'll be the only American they've ever met. Hopefully I can say something right. I'll let you know how it goes.

Temporary Abode, Life Stories

Two things: One: I moved, and this situation is a much better fit. Jacque was generous, and I appreciate her, but Cinthia is more of a roommate than a host mom, and overall that's better for me. I live in a neighborhood called Petropolis. It looks like this. I'll be here for 3 weeks, and then I'll move in with another host family. I don't know where, and I don't know how the hosts will be.

Cinthia, my host, is sweet. She watches romantic comedies and offers me chocolate when I'm sitting nearby. She chats about boys and her friends. She majored in tourism and works for a hotel. She spends her evenings chatting with her neighbors who welcomed me on my first night here by taking me out dancing with them for to celebrate a birthday.

Two: The ladies of Namaskar finished the first phase of the book. They've written responses to prompts like these (initially I wrote them in Portuguese, but that wouldn't make sense for you so here they are in English):

In the space below, please write or design a letter to your body. Tell how you feel about your body. Include why you love your body and what you remember about your past. Include, also, a promise for the future.

Please write or design about a time when you knew that your life was important. Who loves you? How do you know?

In general, I'm not a fan of prompts, but these ladies barely read, and writing is more difficult for them than reading. They don't think in methaphors. They think literally and mostly about work. It can't be called a writing workshop, but it did start some interesting conversations and a lively show and tell. I count that as a success. So far, I've read about a husband who is the father is wife never had, and I've seen a 5 part panoramic drawing of a woman's life over 50 years; I've read testaments to the joys of cleaning laundry and snippets of stories about the adoration of grandchildren.

Now, I could let the project end with the women taking their books home and putting them on some shelf. That might be fine for them, but for me, this project needs to go a little farther. I'm not sure what I can do with it though. I could write a paper about the process and my observations, but what would any conclusions I draw be relevant to? What I am doing with these women can't be called teaching. It's more like I’m facilitating.

Tomorrow we'll paint cardboard book covers and take pictures of each artist. The whole thing is akin to the 826CHI style, but it is for literacy level adults. Any ideas? Anybody wanna talk it out with me?

I'll try to write about the awesome amazing 55 Feira do Livros, and I'll take pictures of the turnsiles at the bank.

Week 12

I wrote an entirely different entry for this week, but it isn’t interesting. Instead I’d like to know if you have any questions and if there’s anything in particular you’d like to see? Tomorrow we start the book project. Here’s the idea that I’m stealing. (I will add the pictures ASAP) I’ll keep you updated on that. I’m back in the doghouse with Jacque, so I don’t know where we stand on this book project or whether I’ll live in this house next week.

Oh, and the highlights of the last week: I received mail from China from Andi, another exchange from the states. That’s right, mail from China to Brazil addressed to me. Amazing. It was really nice to hear what another United States-ian exchange is feeling. I think we’re right on par.

Also, I got a call from the volunteer coordinator that said that I got a good report from Jacque (just before I pissed her off again), and I was invited to participate in a conversation in a city 4 hours away from Porto Alegre in 2 weeks. So awesome, that should be interesting. And I had an article published by my sending organization.

I had my three month panic, and I’m feeling better now. How was Halloween? Are there Thanksgiving decorations up where you are?