It took a couple of tries to find an amenable sales representative. “A cell phone plan in Brazil? Really? How long will you be traveling for? ” Forever. I’m going for forever. That concept didn’t quite register with her. I tried to explain that I’d be moving, but traveling back to visit periodically and would …
On Happiness
Happiness is in the language here. You greet someone: “Como esta? Tudo belleza?” And the appropriate, automatic response is always “Tudo joya.” (How are you? Is life beautiful? Yes, it’s joyous). It is so very easy to forget that we are in charge of our own happiness. I’m in a country where most people, even …
Brazilian Wedding
A family of sweeping eyebrows. Men wearing fuzzy caterpillars Women wearing winged seagulls. Outdoor canopy borrowed, resuscitated from some past political event. National beer flowing free in cups and across tablecloths. Band playing bouncing beats of forro from the improvised stage– neither expert nor always melodic but always rhythmic and enthusiastic. Red, Brazilian mud grabbing …
Traffic Signs
The road signs are like driving with your father. “Use luz baixa quando cruza os vehiculos.” (Use your low beams with oncoming traffic) “Evite accidentes. Respite a sinalização.” (Avoid accidents. Respect the traffic signs.) “Em chuva não ultrapasse.” (Don’t pass when it’s rainy) “Só ultrapasse com segurança.” (Only pass when it’s safe) “Use luz baixa …
Dry well
During the day my brain is a dry well like the one in our field spitting out muddy water, running dry before you can fill a few paragraphs. At night the words come beating against the back of my eyes scratching open my eyelids twitching the tips of my fingers. They chant: Find us a …
Word Jumble
At seven months of living in Brazil, my languages (English, Spanish, Portuguese) are still a bit of a mash-up. It’s a wonder that I manage to communicate at all. Portañol will only get you so far. It’s as if someone up there with a devilish sense of humor cross-wired these languages on purpose. In Portuguese …
Trash Redux
I have a horrible time keeping track of which day it is. Let’s be honest, I was never particularly talented at it. I’d like to blame it on much international travel and lots of exposure to a non-Western time sense, rather than consider that it’s just a glaring character flaw. Yes, let’s do that. To make matters …
Trash
I get a lot of thinking done while swinging a scythe. Shamefully, today I spent most of my time mentally cursing out the in-laws who had dumped their trash among the bushes I was trying to clear. Bottles, lost shoes, tin cans–I never knew what I was going to hit. How could they be so …
Coffee
is served black, dark sweet and hot sweet grounds from the farmer’s hand mashed, mixed with sugar boiled hot strained, steaming sweet syrup warmed in a carafe always waiting for visitors sipped slowly over conversation social ties sealed with a cup of heaven
