project americas : phase 1

i am not a blogger

2006-12-13T20:19:00.000-04:00

i was watching an interview of norma ephron with charlie rose a couple days ago...

the topic of blogs

suddenly she spoke words which rang so true to my heart...

she commented....

"if you're working on a blog for more than an hour... it's not a blog"...

i took this to heart...

i still have blogs that were started in brazil...

and are still in "draft" form...

waiting to be perfected and rethought..

rethought and published...

so i'm starting over...

and learing how to blog...

thank you for your patience and understanding of my transition period into this new technological era.

the war is over......

2006-07-02T10:33:00.000-04:00

... but there is no celebration in the streets..... there is no victory for the homeland.... and i'm in the middle of Brazilian depression and disappointment...

yesterday was my first anticipated experience of watching the game with a large group of strangers... hoping to be a part of the roaring joy... i was tired of cheering in home... with intimate groups of friends... i wanted action... loud stand up and wave your hands around action...

needless to say.... things didn't go as planned... and i ended up with a mass of losing.... angry... screaming... swearing... chair slamming... beer throwing Brazilians....

and they don't feel this way because Brazil lost.... they're mad because they didn't lose FIGHTING... running up and down the field in the sweat of defeat... there was no sense of intensity... no one is happy with the teams playing during this world cup... and personally i was a little disillusioned... expecting the Brazilian team to deliver a jaw dropping experience of perfect "futebol".... but not so.... an amazing cooperative group of speedy dribbling feet never took over the field...

too much money on the field... and not enough heart...

it reminds me of the USA basketball loss at the olympics... the ego takes over... and the game is sacrificed...

so the shock is setting in..... and the denial should go away soon....

there is no more excuse for the holiday.... and no more party all day and all night.... but honestly.... i'm relieved at the lessening of firecracker/bomb loud tremling noise maker usage... (which will hopefully occur after the set which went off at 5 this morning)

i think its a good time to buy my (marked down) Brazil world cup shirt today....

image train...

2006-06-28T15:35:00.000-04:00

are we being invaded??

2006-06-24T14:09:00.000-04:00

the city is riddled with the sounds of a war zone...

i wake up everyday to the sounds of bombs... machine guns blazing.... the house shaking ... my heart palpitating...
all day long....
and all hours of the night....
it's all to close to memories of my childhood in Iran...

but in 1988 it was war.....
in 2006.... its the WORLD CUP!!...
and i'm in Brasil!!!.....
a country which treats this every four year event as a national holiday...
everywhere from banks... malls... schools... and grocery stores shutting down during game times....
i have never experienced this frenzy over "futebol"....
but i definitely expected it....
everyone in the patriotic attire, which is sold at every street corner/gas station/car trunk (along side a nice selection of firecracker paraphanelia)....

all chatting about the cup results... but not just Brasil... this country is passionate about the sport as a whole... not just their team... almost everyone is informed and aware of what is going on... even the house wives cleaning and cooking are aware when a goal is made... although it is pretty hard to not notice....

WOW...
when Brasil pounds that ball through the net....... screams... howls.... firecrackers... bombs... all hell breaks loose... and everyone... no matter where you are is celebrating together.. everyone is glued to a TV... whether they're in their own homes... at a friends house.... at the bar down the street.. or looking through a store front window... they are one... rooting for their team... BRASIL!!!..... and boy do they know how to cheer...

it's "fourth of July" everyday here.... which honestly has just made it more difficult to distinguish the gun shots from the firecrackers... a bit of "crying wolf" going on... and really a great opportunity to do mass bombings and shootings without anyone noticing.... people who are accustomed to these intense noises don't even flinch... which is very interesting... definitely different from the regulated twice a year firecracker experiences i've had in the states...

.. fear ..

2006-06-04T12:49:00.000-04:00

in the middle of poverty, hunger, desperation, and loneliness….

it's been quite a struggle capturing it…

i am consumed by a nervous and constant fear of taking my equipment out in public…

taking pictures has been a nightmare of insecurity and paranoia..

I am currently working on a camera hiding device...

it will eventually help me hit the streets and film the inhabitants

without sticking a camera in the their face…

being an obvious target to sketchy folks standing by…

always on the look out for a mark… a victim…

I have worked very hard not to be one of them…

but when is the risk needed?... when do I need to just let go?…

covered & invisible

2006-05-21T15:13:00.000-04:00

my time in rio thus far has been a different and eye openning experience.

i have seen younger and younger groups of kids...

barefoot and draped in oversized t-shirts...

some are lucky enough to possess blankets,

which drag along the black and white mosaic stones paving the sidewalks of copacabana.

these blankets look like donated goods from a church

(doubting they are provided by the goverment).

they are dirty, and carted around daily

providing privacy for drug use,

warmth from the elements

and shelter for naps during the day

and through the night.

first experiences in rio

2006-05-16T20:56:00.000-04:00

it is grey here.. and unfortunately... my mood and energy seems to reflect this weather... occasionally raining.. with spurts of sunshine here and there....

yesterday i went to the beach with some bread and mortadela.... i spent a cloudy day in the sand... taking in the sun which came out once or twice...as the waves crashed violently around me...

with the same intensity and desperation as the kids... flies swarmed around my grocery bags... very forceful and insistent... trapping themselves in the plastic.. and crawling all over my sandals...

i was looking for the group of kids i encountered the night before....

as i was making my usually way down to copacabana around 9pm.... i saw two skinny boys in dirty oversized shirts and shorts... on the other side of the street... being "harassed" by the police.... my eyes moved over to the line of other thin bodies walking together with no real sense of direction... every time they paused for a minute... they were shooed down the street... roaming.... a group of roughly 12... ages ranging from 7 to 18 (guessing... because their rotting teeth.. and meager bodies and stunted height...don't show the truth).... all with water bottles which contained a small amount of clear liquid.... what i realized was the "super" glue they were all constantly breathing in.... the smell was so strong that at first thought it was a very strong form of alcohol that they were drinking... but as they spoke to me... fumes blowing into my face.. they came close to me... and i could feel my heart beating faster.. and the effect of the chemical on my body.. and brain... which made me realize the massive damage that was being done to these little bodies....right before my very eyes.... they are breathing in this horrid drug day in and day out.... and there was nothing i could do about it... i just watched.... and observed... and spoke to them.... and gave them attention...

they all started calling me "tia" (aunt)..... as we ate sandwiches together... (they kept asking if i had bought this to give..... they wanted to know if i had clothes to give.... i don't blame them as they were huddled in blankets... in shorts and t-shirts ... rio is not warm at night during the winter...).... we drank coke, which a nearby store owner donated... to the feast....

the police drove by... slowly... and kept moving...

i later found out that the first boy i offered sandwiches to was originally from salvador.... was born there by the "farol da barra" (barra light house)... and moved to rio about three years ago.. after the death of his mother and father.... i didn't ask for details immediately... but when i asked about other family members... he just said he has absolutely no one... just the kids around him.... all high... and getting higher...

it was an intense and personal experience i hadn't had to this date... and know will see more of...

as i observed more kids... i became aware of the constant existence of the bottle in their hands...

two boys "fighting" in the middle of the street....breathing in... fighting... laughing... trying to throw each other into the street... and laughing more... then getting more violent.... i didn't know if i should approach them... you never know what will happen when you get into someone's face in the middle of their high... the might get caught off guard in a negative way... and become violent... this is something that i need to be more aware of... because every kid i've seen here so far... has been on the glue... everyone....

actually not everyone... yesterday i had my first glimpse of the stronger side of the streets as well... the men and boys who rule and rob... the bosses which have the kids working for them... and deal with the money and drugs that are constantly changing hands...

more on those experiences later...

Mothers day... (updated)

2006-05-14T12:10:00.000-04:00

it is sunday.......a surreal day for me...

mothers day....in many parts of the world...

and I feel so lucky to be here in Brazil...

and actually have my mother and grandmother with me....

they have come for a month visit on this journey of mine... and are seeing the beauty and kindness of the people... the exotic and rich agricultural treasures.... and the harsh realities of poverty and violence in this country for the first time....

we are in Rio de Janeiro where the distinction and difference in class and economic standing is constantly thrown in our faces and apparent right outside our windows...

one looks to the horizon and is encountered with hills and hills of shantytowns....

favelas... popping up and multiplying daily.

even the rich can't buy a perfect view of happiness.

the close proximity of neighboring favelas does not effect the existence of an extravagant home...

this past week, I spent some quality time with my family and in "luxurious" conditions, which constantly made me think.... why??.... why so expensive??... what are we paying for??..... the service was definitely nothing to write home about...

I had spent the last three months in extremely modest settings saving all my money for sandwiches and food for the kids... and suddenly I saw "200 cesta basicas" spent on a week of hotel stay... I couldn't take it... I have become too sensitive...

luckily.. my family was just as conscious as me...

and I didn't have to twist any arms to get us to move... we are now staying in a place for less than half the price...

I don't feel as guilty.. ;-)...

but I don't like feeling guilty... or making others feel that way......

stressing out over every penny is not healthy...

I just feel that as a whole... as a human race.... we can look at our spending and decide for ourselves... what is necessity.... what is healthy treating.... and what is frivolous expense...

I get more conscious to this fact everyday...

(not to say our hotel stay was frivolous... it was necessary for the time)

which brings me back to mothers day....

a day of appreciation and gratefulness....

because we are so lucky if we have a mother....

who cares for us....

is there for us through the ups and downs....

who exists as a positive force in our lives....

whether in this world or with their energy from another place....

we are lucky....

the majority of the kids that I see everyday tend to lack that...

roaming the streets alone...

with no parental guidance...

no one to help them... feed them... teach them... or love them..

they are raised by the streets...

they don't celebrate mothers day...

their mothers gave birth to them...

without understanding the reality and the consequences...

without having financial means to feed them...

and no sense of homely security...

they are left to their own devices...

and they don't celebrate mothers day...

many mothers are on drugs or alcoholics...

and tend to make their kids work for them and their addictions...

they sit on the side of the streets...

while their kids juggle and wash windows at red lights for money...

they just keep having more and more kids....

more kids to care of the other kids....

the eldest is always holding the baby...

boys... girls... babies... all taking care of each other...

and taking care of their mothers as well...

in reality the fathers are the ones who don't exists 90 % of the time

this is the problem.... one root cause to this epidemic....

lack of education and mass procreation with no means of taking care of their responsibilities

along this path... I have definitely seen my share of positive motherly relationships as well...

families on the street because of serious financial instability... grandmothers... mothers... sisters.. and daughters together... groups of women... looking through the trash for nightly meals...

from a distance, I spotted a family of women huddled around a trash bin one night... I was giving out sandwiches by motorcycle and we made an illegal u-turn... we pulled up to them as they were leaving the trash bin and asked if they would accept some sandwiches ... a little embarrassed.. and very gentile and calm in their mannerisms.... I offered them the whole bag...but they refused and only took the correct number of sandwiches to feed them... one per person... this was a rare reaction... a pure reaction from people who haven't been tainted with the "hunger" and greed that comes with drug use... they were together... poor... but supportive of each other... not trying to plan the others demise behind their back...

that very night... down the street a bit... I came across another group of women and girls pushing a shopping cart down the street... I offered them some sandwiches... which they reluctantly took... then wanted more... and money as well.... and when I wouldn't give it to them....with a look of disappointment they pushed along... the eldest woman holding the sandwich bag.... the kids following along begging for something to eat.... she expressed a selfish ruling attitude that made me think she wouldn't even give any to the kids... the sense of taking care of their young is missing... the children are seen as compitition.... for food... money... men... and work...

this i've identified as drug tainted behavior...

these are a few thoughts and observation I wanted to share with you...

on this day... mothers day... when i am gratefull to have had a mother who was there for me... and supportive of all my ventures... discoveries... and life choices...

I would like to send a message of appreciation to all my surrogate mothers as well... because I have been raised by a village of strong woman role models who have all treated me with so much support.... respect.... and love.... to all my mommy #1-#100...

I will never forget the individual marks that each one of you have made on the collage that paints my life....

I thank you!!!

cesta basica

2006-04-24T15:09:00.000-04:00

with the coming of the rains came my temporary departure from Salvador... but because of the relationships, interviews and programs I hope to pursue in this city I have decided to focus more of my time here... I will be back in June...

a suggestion was made to me when I first began visiting Cosisa by Lina... that I provide a "cesta basica" for a number of families in the favela.... I didn't even know what a "cesta basica" was at the time.... and she informed me of the basic needs that make up a "cesta basica"... that most kitchens here are lacking...

1 kilo each of rice... beans... flour... salt... and sugar... 1 bag of spaghetti... and coffee... with a bottle of oil... makes up the basket of food... which supplies a whole family for weeks...

at first I was overwhelmed with the estimated high cost... and intense responsibility... but as soon as word got out that I was thinking of doing it.... Lina was bombarded with eager people.. everyone wanted to be on the list... 60 households were eventually chosen... and the organization was taken over by Lina and her "crew"... at that point I couldn't let them down...

thanks to a costco-like store... I bought everything in bulk and at very reasonable... really... shockingly cheap prices!!

we transported all the materials 20km outside of the city into the suburbs where Lina lives... when we arrived in the downpour...the men and boys, who were ready and waiting, came running down the mudslide of a hill to help carry the heavy bags and boxes back up to Lina's house... a beautiful sight... food running up the hills... which caught everyone's attention...

it all happened so fast that I didn't even have a chance to take out my camera before the car was empty... but I will never forget the eagerness to help... and the sight of 20 men and boys running up the hill in the rain with bundles and bundles on their shoulders...

once I reached the top of the hill... walking cautiously...I had my camera rolling as the separation and bagging of the goods began... we all began taking apart the bulk packaging and assembling the bags of eight items each... it was a beautiful sight... a well oiled machine.. where instinct took over and everyone got into action.. working as a team and at great speed... within half an hour... all 60 bags were put together...and piled up against the wall in Lina's bedroom...

the following night... at 8pm... distribution began...

to my surprise... and amazement...

Lina, her daughter and friends had everything in order.... just film!! is what they said... as they began the procession of name calling... ID checking and signing for the bags... eager to show you guys... my supporters and sponsors of this cause.... what was being accomplished!!...

and what a night it was!!
a crowd had gathered as they waited for my arrival... soon it began to rain... and the table of business was moved inside... as well as the crowd....
some chose to stay outside... women covered their hair with plastic bags... holding umbrellas... and socializing in what became a night of celebration... visiting with neighbors... and chatting about the "gringa" with the camera who had appeared one day...

some of the kids I had met and spent time with months earlier were very eager to see what I was filming... and to be filmed... following me around all night... excited... and shy at the same time...

the footage from that night is beautiful.... and I will never forget the energy of that experience... the first of many to come... I know!!

so thank you all... for making this trip... this project... these relationships possible!!... and lets continue to work together... to make a permanent infrastructure, which will continue to aid this community while I am gone...

FALL HAS ARRIVED

2006-04-21T17:35:00.000-04:00

the sunny beach weather has changed under my nose.... i have now noticed because i see myself wearing the same thing over and over again to protect from the rain

as the persian new year passed... with the sight of my improzied haftseen (w/ sang...sanjagh...salvia)... my body was ready for spring as fall arrived with force and the openning of the sky

they say it never rains like this here..... this is the rain of sao paulo i hear.... a rain which quietly entered my house one night ...and has yet to leave

pots... pans....bowls....buckts...and rags are strewen about the floor and house to protect from the puddles of water that gather inside ... i feel quite lucky that there is only a timid droplot over my bed..... and my equiptment has not been ruined!!

there is a constant drip in my bedroom doorway which has gathered 3 gallons of water thus far....and keeps me company in the silence.......a silence i hear rarely between the thunder of rain pouring on the metal roofing

oh the reality of living in the favela is hitting me.... they way it is hard to escape this wetness in the land full of metal roofed houses....and one never knows how wet the house will get until the rain hits

leaving the house in this weather and the river which forms over the road is extremely difficult... all this....making the sandwhiches quite impossible to hand out right now..... as my stay here in salvador comes to an end for this first phase

we will speak again in Sao Paulo

a lil something to wet the tongue

2006-04-03T15:43:00.000-04:00

(I AM HAVING SERIOUS ISSUES WITH MY USB MALFUNCTIONING...AND THE INTERNET/COMPUTER SITUATION AROUND ME...IS NOT COOPERATING...I~M SORRY FOR THE LACK OF CORRESPONDANCE)

I had been sequestered for sometime and now return to what is important…communicating with you….

Carnaval and the preparations came with a tidal wave of insanity. By the end, I found myself escaping to nature and the beautiful natural terrain of Chapada Diamantina.

Two weeks of head clearing, meditating, writing, hiking, bathing in waterfalls, and preparing for collage application submissions. I spent my time in Vale do Capao, which is a quiet community full of poverty but lacking hunger. The abundance of fruit bearing trees and vegetable gardens has created a semi self-sufficient society. There is a lack of running water and electricity for many, but these are amenities that we are used to, which never existed for them. I felt a sense of the past. I had the experience of living in a natural rhythm. Waking and sleeping with the sun and no clock to rule my life’s moments. Chapada was quite the contrast to the city life I live and love so much, but it really opened my eyes to this alternative original existence.

The kids I observed were so full of love and spirit, which only nature can give. Sharing was not a problem in this accepting community, where mine is yours and ours is theirs. Nature was their playground. The trees and rivers were their jungle gyms. Shoes were not a necessity, and “bugs” were not a nuisance. All this was very new and enlightening to me. Seeing the contrast in the lives of the kids on the streets and the kids in the valley made me think about how to use nature as a future tool to progress the permanent impact of project americas. Maybe beginning some sort of community house where these kids can voluntarily re-locate…. live in community supportive family atmosphere…
learn to grow own food..
just thinking at the moment…
any ideas??...
More on that later…

i wrote a lot more...and posted about twenty pictures which this bloging site conveniently erased.... im frustrated... because i want to show you what i~m doing... and the techonlogy here wont let me...
more later...when i get my patience back

feeding cosisa

2006-02-21T00:20:00.000-04:00

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

2006-02-13T21:16:00.000-04:00

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

2006-02-09T22:02:00.000-04:00

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

2006-02-06T09:08:00.000-04:00

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

2006-02-05T20:42:00.000-04:00

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)

2006-02-01T16:05:00.000-04:00

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….

FIRST DAY (updated pix)

2006-01-31T00:10:00.000-04:00

5:44pm

I have landed in Brazil after a long flight in the aisle seat (I’m a window fan) from New York to Sao Paulo. A feeling of homeliness came over me as I stepped on the plane and the flight attendants were speaking to me in Portuguese, something I missed very much. Another thing that had been lacking in my life was the included hot meal on the plane, which actually tasted good. This was quite a pleasant surprise. You might notice later on if you continue to read my thoughts that I really like food, and I tend to share my foodly experiences and addictions.

I am currently staying for a few days with some friends/roommates from Portland who have a house here with some family and have been here for quite some time. I almost didn’t make it after the taxi driver was verifying my directions with some local boys who were saying it was too dangerous for us to go there at night. I kept saying, I’m going to my friend’s house, but he was very reluctant and said I should stay in a hotel for the night even though we were only 5 minutes away. I think those kids were trying to mess with his mind, or maybe mine. Either way I didn’t fall for it and insisted on going forward, and everything was fine. My instincts felt safe, so here I am in paradise. It’s nice to be in a place where there are many familiar faces (some I didn’t even know would be here). Last night was an unexpected reunion, but I don’t plan on staying in English speaking land for too long. This is definitely not the purpose of this trip, but it is nice to start from a comfortable place.

While the house that they’re living in was being finished, my friends were staying in the Pelourinho district. Spending their time in the streets, they befriended a group of street kids from the neighborhood. When the house was finished, they took one of the kids with them and he is sitting next to me right now and has been with them ever since. A young man with a lot of peace in his being, I can’t imagine what he was like then. Addicted to drugs (crack) for some time, they tell me. He has been rehabilitated in this foreign environment away from his friends, and the traps of a life on the street. He was given a home, a bed, and some unconventional but positive male influences. Unfortunately for him, he can’t go back to Pelourinho anymore. The other kids who were left behind are mad, and jealous that they weren’t “picked,” and given this second chance at life. It could be very dangerous for him, so he is here with me, while everyone else is there. I see it as a bearable trade for this opportunity at a new and “normal” life.

8:30pm

I have now eaten my first improvised meal in a Brazilian kitchen. (tuna, potato, onion, tomato omelet) I love having the freedom of finding the ingredients and making something I’ve never eaten before. The people I’m staying with at the moment have given me this freedom and that’s great. Since I last wrote I’ve met another boy Marcio with such lively energy it’s contagious. He is the kind of child who talks and talks about everything and everything else. Happy and containing the curiosity that a child should have but I rarely see nurtured here. His thirteenth birthday is tomorrow, and I just found out he has also migrated to this compound from the streets. I told him about me project, and he has enthusiastically agreed to share his story. Everything he says is ready in his head. The more time I spend here, the more people I realize live here. I am staying on a piece of land in front of praia de tubarao (shark beach). There are many houses built in a compound-like form with a tennis court and gorgeous surroundings. I’m surrounded by thick green grass, tropical trees, mangos falling from the sky, and protective dogs roaming between houses. All of this is situated right in front of the beach.

Last night we watched my movie with some of the guys here, and at the end the waves were complimented with the sound of waves from outside and it was such a beautiful addition to the piece. I felt like this film had been waiting to be seen in Brazil, and it felt good to share it with some friends from the past who are interested in this cause.

I spent most of today sleeping and catching up on some energy, but tomorrow I will head out to the city and start my quest for an apartment or living situation closer to the kids. Stay tuned for more updates as my access to an internet connection permits.

welcome

2006-01-26T10:53:00.000-04:00

welcome to my weblog for project americas.
thank you for your support, and stay tuned for new entries.
i will be landing in brazil on monday morning.
wish me luck!!