feeding cosisa

Lina goes shopping with me, which has cut down my cost by a lot....and i am actually feeding 100 people at a time ... just not everyday

....when the sandwiches are ready, Jessica opens the door and the crowd waiting outside looks at me with a hesitant, suspicious, confused but grateful look

the first takers are always nervous and need to be encouraged to come over and take a sandwich. they lead the way and bring comfort to the rest who slowly start to swarm to the table and all around me

more and more people come from up and down the hill as news travels fast about the sandwiches..... they come to the front and back of the house with eager expectations. some ask for another one for their mother, brother, grandmother etc.... and its really hard to say no, because even if they go around the corner and eat it themselves that's a good thing and i am happy to feed their hunger.... but it's a win-lose situation because there are others who come and never receive a sandwich. everyday i feed a hundred i see two hundred more that aren't fed, and its hard to say its over..... "acabou"

for some of these people, this is their only solid meal of the day. Lina comments that she is tired of seeing people crying of hunger.... this project has evolved here in Paripe... and with help of Jr's inspiration and motivation, the idea that hunger is hunger has been imprinted into my thoughts. there is no difference between the hunger of a child and the hunger of a 70 year old woman. i feel that there is something more that needs to be done. i think of what will happen when i leave, and i don't know what to do. i have included a selection of some favorite images of the kids of Cosisa and beyond

this girl is my lively regular playmate. she is 4 years old and lives with Lina because her mother wont take care of her. her mom is 21, lives across the way and enjoys partying and boys, but doesn't have the maturity and hasn't taken the responsiblity to take care of the result of her actions. she often comes around to Lina's house (to buy popsicles) and i was in shock when i realized she was the mom, because she barely talked to her child. (who doesn't have a registration # and is invisible to the statistics of brazil, as many many children are who were never claimed officially.)

this reality which this girl is aware of has not hindered her childhood energy, curiosity and sheer happiness. she if full of life, which is not normal of the kids i meet, and i think that has everything to do with the way Lina is raising her, in a positive supportive family home environment.

thank you for your continued support and keeping up with my progress... i love sharing my experiences with you, and would love to hear any comments and suggestions you may have...

new family in Cosisa

its been a while since i last wrote...and so much has happened around me here that i feel like sharing the images more than my words...



the following is a window into my daily experiences with my new "family", and the kids i have encountered along the way who live in the favela right behind the compound/paradise, which i have called home for the past two weeks....

me and Lina in Gamboa .... enjoying a saturday out by the water with family

this is the front door of

LINA'S house...

the view from Lina´s front porch the inside of Lina and Jessica´s house. So kind and hospitable (a brazilian cultural characteristic that always reminds me of the "persian" way) they have been helping me with the making of sandwiches for the people of "Cosisa" the favela they live in.

Jessica is Lina´s only daughter by blood and at 16 is 5 months pregnant, which is a very common occurance here.

"a typical home in a favela with clothes hanging to dry" says Lina..
(she sells candy and frozen juice from her window)

cutting up the tomato mound as the crowd gathers outside

must leave internet cafe ;-)

stay tuned for more pictures......

refusal, confusion & enthusiasm

10:52 pm

On my last trip to the Pelourinho, I met “Jr.” (boy in checked shirt) my tour guide/sandwich promoter of the night. He walked around with me…and brought back people from the shadows for sandwiches… so much though, that I couldn’t get the sandwiches out of his hands…. This sort of enthusiasm was very inspiring. He didn’t make a different between young and old, he just recognized hunger, and brought it back to me. I enjoyed having his presence around me that night .. plus he can sing!!....he has so much charisma and star like energy…… and a little baby Jamie Fox face too… ;-)



Today I went up into the favela (slum) right behind the house I’m staying in … I was accompanied by the local security guard along with a group of five other boys who I gave sandwiches to. Walking up the uneven steep hill… I couldn’t help but think of the old grandmothers who make this trip everyday. We saw a little girl in a tattered dress walking with two twin boys who had the most confused looks on their faces when I offered them my sandwiches. They took them reluctantly, but I had to reassure them to eat it before they ran away smiling.

Encounters at Pelourinho:

One child was passing dressed in a long dark red shirt carrying 3 coconuts. I asked him if he wanted a sandwich. And we said he didn’t have any way of carrying it. I said sit here a moment and eat. And he said he didn’t want it…… I was puzzled…. I couldn’t figure out why a child who’s thigh is as big as my arm wouldn’t take a free sandwich….. then Josuel mumbled to my friend that he was high … on drugs and wasn’t hungry anymore…

This bit of reality hit me .. and resurfaces every time a frail human being refuses the food I am offering.

traveling sandwiches

5:08am

Yesterday I thought I had found some willing hands to help with this sandwich making endeavor, but it’s a hard thing to round up the troops on this “compound” in paradise… so there I was with 5 loaves of bread, a whole bunch of lettuce, two big cucumbers, 4 packs of cheese and a bottle of mustard. Laying out the sandwiches one by one, visions of the kids receiving them were streaming through my thoughts. I had no idea what was to come, but it felt really good getting ready for it. In assembly line fashion, I laid out the ingredients one by one until my first batch of ~40 sandwiches was finished. After wrapping them up in paper towels (I’ve since bought foil) I placed them back in the loaf bags and put them into my “sandwich delivery bag” (AKA my Brazilian flag).

I made it to town as the sun was going down (didn’t realize how long it would take to make the sandwiches, washing and cutting included…alone).

Monday nights are a little slow in the Pelourinho, and I actually had a difficult time finding any kids at first. But soon they started appearing around me.

Encounters:

A group of four girls asked for some fruit from the juice vendor I was standing in front of. I tapped one girl on the shoulder and asked her if she was hungry. She gave a shy nod, and I asked her if she wanted a sandwich to which she replied with a huge smile and opened eyes. An enthusiastic nod followed as I gave her the remainder of my sandwiches in the bag for her and her friends. With the bag in her hand, she stood behind her friends and tapped one on the shoulder with the biggest smile I’d seen all night and showed her the bag…to which her friend responded with a big eyed toothy smile as well. These smiles were contagious, which caused my friends and I to start smiling too… the girl pointed at me, and suddenly “obrigadas” (thank you-s) and shaking hands were put out.

This was a beautiful and extraordinary occurrence.
To see a stale face full of sadness and hunger transformed to a happy lively smiling contrast.

This encounter prompted my friend to comment on the possibility of creating a permanent table/booth that would always be there and with a stamp card, one could get a free sandwich everyday. This would be my dream. For someone to take over this mission in each place I visit, and follow through with this idea.

The traveling sandwiches are on their way.

More stories about the kids to come….

familiar faces & music

4:42pm

A lot has happened here since I last sat down to write. In the beginning of last week, I went into town for the first time on this trip. I walked through an unknown neighborhood with a guide to the bus stop which was my starting point. Last year I stayed in a hostel right in the middle of Pelourinho, so I wasn’t used to making this sort of effort to get to the beauty of the city.

The bus ride was long, and twisting through streets and neighborhoods I had never seen. The ride had a bumpy feeling to it, which always makes me tired like a baby in a cradle. Bouncing around with eyes drooping, reading signs is not only a good way of keeping me awake, but also an excellent way of familiarizing oneself with the language. I was lucky, because I didn’t really know where to get off, but I slowly starting seeing familiar sights from the year before. The ferry terminals and bank ATMs were appearing, so I knew I was almost at the foot of the giant elevator, which transports thousands of people between the lower city and higher city of Pelourinho everyday.

In the process of meeting a friend to see about a place to stay closer to the city for the next month or so, I saw a group of drummers playing in the middle of a square. I started walking their way, and suddenly recognized a boy I’d seen and sketched the year before. He recognized me too, as I pointed out that he was still selling those necklaces, and he said “sempre”… always….. He was selling the same necklaces with the same persistence as the year before, and it hit me that he’d been doing the same thing everyday since I left last January until now…. And will probably continue to do so until…..

One thing I’ve noticed from my travels here is that most people are constantly “working” something to carry on. From grandmas selling water and beer on the street, to little kids collecting cans, with women braiding hair and little boys selling hammocks in between. There is always something to collect or sell, and these people are constantly doing whatever to survive. Everyday, I see thousands of people in the streets selling food, drinks, candy, peanuts, fruits, vegetables, drugs, clothes, shoes, accessories, cigarettes and so much more… the list is endless.

Back to the music, which drew me to it… as it always does. The familiar rhythms of samba reggae were in the air, and I went to get a closer look after not finding my friend. As I got closer to the music, I noticed a man was walking straight toward me…..and that sudden realization of recognition came over me. It was Bryant…. a new friend from Brazil Camp I’d met last August. (1-2 week intensive Brazilian music and dance camp in the redwood forest…..paradise!!!!)… I’m sure someone has said that music brings people together, and this encounter was a perfect example. I hadn’t seen him since camp, and suddenly he was with me in the middle of Salvador, Bahia. He informed me that four other friends were here too, and this strange feeling of total comfort and familiarity came over me again…not only was I in Brazil, but near friends who share the same passions of music and dance, which put an ease to any nerves. It felt good to see them in this context.

With their presence, my access to the music scene was introduced and led to an opportunity to play for the festival of Iemenja…. I had partaken in the ceremony before in Santa Cruz, but in Brazil it’s a whole other party….

Playing my beloved instrument (the surdo) in brazil with thousands of people around me in their white and blues dancing & celebrating iemenja….

The euphoric feeling of sand between my toes as my feet marched down to the beach was something I will never forget…



There is a lot more I wanted to say at this point…..but I feel like I need to share my new experiences with the kids, and the sandwiches.


Possible update later …..

OPPORTUNITY IN PARADISE (updated pix)

2:09pm

I am sitting on the porch of my temporary home in PARIPE. (about 30 minutes by bus from Salvador) The day is a bit suffocatingly hot but gorgeous!!! And I’m not about to complain about anything since I’ve just come from the land of wintertime ;-)


I’m seeing what looks like a mini palm tree, grass, a big palm, a huge fig tree, a tree with vibrant and exotic orange flowers, leading to the fence surrounding the house. Beyond that there are people passing by on bikes, selling popsicles, talking in groups, and more wading and swimming in the ocean. I keep thinking I must be crazy to want to leave here…because it is truly paradise, and so comfortable.


5:00pm

I have decided to stay here a few weeks in safety, and pursue a relationship with Josuel (unsure of the spelling) the young man who is working and staying here at the house. From what people tell me, when he first arrived, he barely looked over thirteen. Once a strung out shoe shinning kid in the streets of Pelourinho, his years of drug abuse, starvation, and other consequences of the streets had kept him tiny, and frail. Apparently he grew a foot since coming to this land of hope and opportunity (as I call it), and has now thickened out, is no longer on drugs, and a healthy 18 year old. (my friends discovered his birthday after researching his documents from is “mother”. He didn’t know how old he was up until that point)

I am intrigued on hearing his story from his point of view and in his voice. For now I just hang out with him…getting him comfortable with my presence, and building a friendship. I think the film could use the perspective of a kid who has totally turned his life around, and took the chance he was given to get out.

i headed out on my first city adventure yesterday. A new thing for me was taking the 30 minute bus ride to the central point of the city. Or really the touristic central point of Salvador. I spent Christmas here last year and didn’t leave the Pelourinho neighborhood at all. It was so beautiful with colorful colonial buildings, cobblestone streets, art, and my favorite place to sit and eat cheese. Grilled cheese would come out on a hot plate, and I would dive into paradise every night. Observing the regular group of prostitutes attacking the foreign looking men and sometimes women around me became my daily soap opera. As well as the occasional fight over peanuts that weren’t solicited, eaten and then expected to be paid for. My favorite….. Word for thought for future travelers to Salvador….. Never eat anything that someone just drops on your table and walks away…. The will come back and fiercely demand their money if you even touch it…especially eat it…

more on yesterdays adventure later….