It's all happening

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I promise I am still here

Really I am here, there and everywhere.

The last two weeks have been full of fun adventures.. and now everything is really starting to pick up speed.

On Class:

Classes started for real this week. My guitar class is still fun and only slightly stressful. Portuguese Literature is going to be a real challenge, but hopefully good for me too. Portuguese Language seems fun enough. Two hours twice a week in hot room at UFBA is bareable enough, and the monkeys in the trees outside the third floor window should entertain when concentration is hard to maintain. Race and Class doesn't start until after Carnaval, but looks promising.

On Carnaval:

It is going to be CRAZY. 7 straight days of parties from about 8 in the morning until 4 or 5 in the morning the next day...???? Are you kidding me. We'll see how long I make it for til I end up passing out for 36 hours straight.

On Salvador:

I am getting to know the city pretty well, and truly loving it. It is beautiful in many ways, and not so beautiful in others. Litter and Sanitation are major issues here, but don't hide the happiness and the beauty of the people. I love to walk and people watch here, as much or more than Sampa.

On Praia do forte:

Yesterday we took a group daytrip to a place called Praia do Forte pictures can be seen here for you facebook users: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?id=1161990263&aid=2038287 . It is about an hour and a half north up the coast from Salvador. We first stopped at the ruins of fort that the beach is named after and got a look around. We then visited Projeto Tamar, Brazil's overwhelmingly successful nationwide Sea turtle and marine life protection project that has brought several species of sea turtles back from the brink of extinction over the last twenty years. After Tamar we hung out on the beach all afternoon, snorkeled, and enjoyed each others company.

On Volunteering:

Today I went with Matt (one of our program coordinators,) and Alex to visit a project called Artes Conscientes (Conscious Arts) in a favela named Saramandaia. The organization was started by four guys with interests in different arts and sports, and they teach children from the slums Percussion, Music, Art, Boxing, and Circus Performance. We are going to help out in whatever way possible there once a week, and I hope to begin teaching a guitar class and/or english classes there as soon as possible!

On life:

It's good.

A continuação...

I have started writing again.. after a drought of several years. No songs yet, but a couple of poems that I am rather proud of. As a disclaimer about the first: Don't go getting the wrong idea about the place where I am currently living... it is a really beautiful place with as many positives as negatives, but the content of this specific poem is based upon some observations I have made, focusing the energy on those negatives, which I think is important sometimes. The second just kinda popped out of my brain this morning while doing some catching up on the current happenings of good 'ole Hugo Chavez of my cherished second home, Venezuela.

I Noticed

Bahia, paradise, you sing praise
Praise to the sun, to life
But also you weep
Your streets; your people, forgotten they weep

Bahia, paradise, your beaches gleam
At a glance, your waters glisten
But what is this; hunger, pain?
The thief takes because he must
Your people, forgotten they weep

Bahia, paradise, the sunrise brings light
For some, another day just to survive
Their existence is not lesser than mine
But arduous, a struggle, never ending

Bahia, paradise, the sunset brings peace
But in the night that follows
Who will watch over your children?
Thirteen years old, no home, no love
Only cigarettes, a few cents, cardboard

Bahia, paradise, what injustice is this?
Your beauty enjoyed by few
Your wealth shared by fewer
Only your rubbish is known to all

Bahia, paradise, what will it take,
who will fight the status quo?
The vendor, the artisan,
the beggar, the crack head,
Will it be you, me?

Bahia, paradise, their cry is silent
Unattended, altogether unnoticed
As the baby in the dark of night
your streets, forgotten they weep

Bahia, paradise, the fault is not yours
How were you to know?
Whilst singing your happy song
Just know that I know, you weep
Your streets; your people, forgotten they weep

To Hugo

Home, back to Barinas
Take off the silly red hat,
take off your mask of the Libertador.
Take your ‘Republic’ and go home,
across this land of the forgotten poor.

You don’t need more force,
you don’t need more power,
what you need is your mother.
Someone else to say what is best for them?
This continent can’t take another.

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