A few short thoughts


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South America » Brazil » Minas Gerais » Belo Horizonte
August 2nd 2006
Published: August 2nd 2006
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I´ve been here in Brazil a little over 3 months now. I´ve tried to avoid writing too many of my subjective interpertations here, and let friends and family draw their own conclusions from the observations. But true objectivity is a myth. Suffice to say that everything here is so drastically different that it´s impossible to communicate, even between my own eyes and brain. This drastic difference could be most accurately described as differences in culture. With everyday allowing a further grasp of the Portuguese language, I´m understanding more. It´s neither good nor bad, but the experience of adapting to a new culture has an affect of making you feel like a stranger, not only where you are, but in the place you call home.

Language has a rhythm. Once you can understand the words and the significance, the music starts to become apparent. You never notice this because you never know anything different. But this is where a large part of accent comes from. I may be able to speak Brazilian Portuguese, but I am far from being able to sing it.

My commute to work - vultures with white tipped wings coasting over the favelas, brick and mortar houses, and multicolored and multileveled condos. Children fly kites in the unused spaces on the side of the freeway, in the dusty red earth. Motorcycles, most with delivery boxes on the back zip through traffic, around your car, the looming diesel trucks. The other day I saw giant pigs, one the size of a small cow, walking along the side of the road, next to a favela. The favelas are built right to the side of the highway - there are no closed freeways like in the states - so even three steps out of the front door is the middle of 70mph traffic. You know they're favelas because of the construction and the placement - they exist in areas that could never legally be purchased for home construction. Sometimes portions of the walls are brick and mortar, sometimes wood planks, but they look as though they are in various phases of construction. There are also no "roads" in the favelas, just zigzagging paths of dirt where no homes were constructed. The colorful array of clothing hanging out on lines provides a stark contrast to the otherwise muted colors and disorganization. Horses graze in the patches of grass on the size of the freeway, and very often you see mules and carts driving on the side of the busy roads.

"Papagaios" (literally, parrot) are small kites made of two crisscrossed sticks of bamboo, a cut plastic shopping bag, and tape. A tail and line is attached. "Pipas" are larger kites and have three sticks. Sometimes the children crush glass and glue it to the line, so they can cut others kites. This is why kites are always falling from the sky. It´s also illegal, because of the obvious numerous injuries resulting (there are stories about motorcyclists being decapitated, but I can´t verify this). In any direction, in any portion of the sky, you will see kites flittering in the winter breeze.

The absurdity of Brazil involves passing through the favelas listening to Lionel Richie's "Say You, Say Me." But it's not absurd, because these things don't belong to the states, and they don't have a proper place - only once in awhile, fragments from the home surface (a flyer taped to a wall in a nightclub for the Crystal Ballroom in Portland, Oregon) and the world ripples.

Brazil does not let one be alone. I spent last night at a project site by myself, and realized that it was probably the first time I had occupied such a low population density. Brazil does not seem to understand the significance of the word. Alone does not mean the time you spend in the bathroom. Alone is a room, with a door that fully closes, the keeps the light out. A place without noise except that which I make myself, and a place where I can shout without anyone hearing. A space that it is distinctly mine - a reflection and projection of my own mind. I know Brazil means no bad intentions, and I deliver no criticisms. But it´s stealing my sadness, and it´s all I know, so please Brazil, leave me alone.

For the moment I am setting up a computer lab at the project in São Gabriel - it exists, but the computers were in a sad state of disrepair, and I reformated/repaired the aforementioned. I will try and do the same at the other project. Also, a group of Americans will be arriving here in two weeks, and I will stay to assist and translate. As I have changed the date many times, my departure from BH has become something of a joke. The current date stands at the end of August when I leave - and I am feeling better about this being a good time. I will be leaving a great number of people here, and with the warm reception and hospitality of arrival, it will be difficult to depart, but perhaps the road will lead me back here. The world is a huge place - getting to know a different "drop" in the proverbial bucket allows some perspective.

Photos here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ckirkley/

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