Day Zero I woke up yesterday this morning. The days you leave a place for good always seem incredibly long. Rush. Goodbyes. Pack. Finalize. By early afternoon, events from that very morning already feel like they took place three days before. And by evening, the idea of compiling the whole day into one cohesive picture -- 'today' -- is an exercise in futility. But in this case, today really does involve multiple rotations of the planet. For some reason related to taxes, cheaper flights out of Belem leave in the middle of the night. In my case - 4am. So I woke up at 6:30am, August 21, spent the day in farewell trauma, and am now (August 22) sitting aboard Gol flight 1681 headed toward Brasilia, then Curitiba, then Foz do Igauçu. It's a big
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