WWEI 2007-2008

What happens when the wind catches her wings...of course she flies...uma beija flor...

Back in Brasil...no more WWEI, although I'll keep this blog going under it, since it is where it all started.

I find myself now 4 days in Brasil. I could write you all about the exciting things that have already happened to me--and remember when i say exciting, it usually mean CHALLENGING...but I really don't think there's as much of a point of getting into my allergic reaction to an antibiotic for the inflammation in my heels, as is the importance of what follows...

I have a heart touching story to tell you that happened to me today on the bus. Here in Latin America, or I suppose any "developing" nation (I highly dislike the word developing since it is a word invented by the rich in far off places from where the majority of the people live in poverty, but we can get into that later), people who are poor and cannot work are allowed to come on the bus and beg for money. They usually begin by telling a story about why they cannot work, and plead for some spare change. Today i saw one of the most gruesome things--this man was suffering from some disease on his leg that imploded his left leg around the ankle--it looked impossible that the body could form like this...i have never seen anything like it--like 2 large buldged out "grapefruits" on his leg, he was walking with a stick (like a branch from a tree) to help him. His leg was sick all the way up to the thigh and he was showing this on the bus. The bone below the knee looked brittle, and skin like it had been graffed...he didn't look more than 40 yrs old, but with the weathering of his skin and the life he led, i am sure he was much younger.

Also, I counted 2 children sleeping on the streets this morning as I headed into the office today (where i conduct my research in wind energy). I think there were more than that, that I saw, but these 2 stayed in my mind--sleeping alone, no parents around, no more than 7 yrs old, thin frail, hungry...covered only by a blanket on the street sidewalk, which is a rough cobblestone path, not the smooth surfaces we are used to, littered, and tainted by feses from animals and sewage...it broke my heart...

The contrast is great as the streets are decorated with ribbons and colours for the upcoming CARNAVAL, which starts essentially tonight on "FAT THURSDAY", but officially on saturday (largest street party in the world at Galo de Madrugada--it's a guiness world record infact); it's easy to forget about the poverty that surrounds this neighborhood that will feel an influx of foreigners freewheeling to spew out money for the life of the party--and in some ways it is good, the poor people or those without work set up stands and cook food, or sell their crafts and at least they can make some money on this tourist event...but in all the gultany let's not forget the reality of the situation, and what we need to do in our lives, in the daily choices we face, to make a difference where the governments in our own "luxurious" countries are too corrupt to really do something about the poverty in our own country and abroad. Summon yourselves to make a difference, because that is really where it will happen...

In fact I have only been here 3 days, and i am still peeling back the layers of my comforts that have covered me up in North America, protecting me from this reality, this truth, that we don't have to live with....it made me realize the 2 cockroaches that violated my apartment the other night were a mear consequence compared to how most people have to live here, and in the world...and I too currently don't have any sheets or towels in my flat (some delays), but at least i have a bed and a roof over my head...this is just a brief welcome to what God has to show me here again...and perhaps reawaken within me.

Thankyou for doing what you do.

Please pray for these people here...and of course all in such dire situations...a prayer never goes unanswered.

Peace & Light,

Andrea

Home.
15 & 16-Oct-07

Tomorrow’s solutions won’t be found in today’s answers. You must look beyond, but not with your eyes, for your eyes only see what this reality shows, but the soul knows otherwise.

Sometimes in life you need to decide when to follow the path, when to change the path, and when to just get off the path.

Looking beyond is difficult and the past is a dead end, and so exists the fog—where nothing is clear. It is where doubt suffocates trust, convolutes guidance, and the soul weeps in pain.

When we accept that we are invincible, we find the humility necessary to see that the only answer is to trust in the guidance, to feel, and then when nothing makes sense on the surface, everything in itself makes perfect sense. Here, in the now, I am where I am supposed to be, and so is everything else. Is it an illusion or reality, how do you ever know? But it is all in this moment. This moment contains everything and is the only thing that matters. There is no regret, no doubt, only peace. The answers are within and in all that surrounds; and in all that exists reflects this. Nothing is wrong or right, it is just what it is.

We are barred by the illusions of the structures of our society, of the rules on how to exist. We limit our own spiritual infinity and we fail to see with the eyes of God and to feel with the heart of God, to recognise the divine love in all that is and was, and will be. We do not need to understand everything, nor try to fit a box around it so it can be stored in our mind. This control frenzy forces us to distractions, and we cannot find peace in this moment, so in turn we rely on news, magazines, the temporary fulfillment, and this weakness is shown in our spastic, careless movements. This type of love, divine love, cannot make sense in our society, because it transcends all that this material world provides. There can only be love, and the desire for genuine happiness for the soul—yours, his, hers, all. Is there any other way to explain it? I do not know. The words of this space and time limit the very value of it, but from soul-to-soul all meaning is understood, and there can only be peace, and greater love; for all that was created was done in love. And nothing more can be created or destroyed—it can only change form.

Nothing matters but the spiritual life. The closer to draw towards it, you too will see.

The illusions of this reality become clear, their value begins to diminish and fade away, the battle of the ego disappears, all is replaced by eternal peace and divine love; and you are at home…anywhere.

You don’t need to chase the illusions anymore.
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This is where I left off...This is who I became then...and now, you must be patient for the rest of the story to come...as must I.

It's taken me a while to get to this place...this place where I can tell you all what I've been through in the last 3 weeks or so. I've crossd 3 continents, many diverse cultures, gastronomies, travelling sickness and have finally ended up on the coast of the south Atlantic in a room with a view...and a steady internet connection. Aside from all that, how do I even begin to tell you all that my eyes have seen or that my heart has felt...perhaps we can go for coffee sometime and in my eyes you'll see it all.

People think travelling is glamourous. Let me dilute your illusions for good reason. Travelling is only glamourous if you live in a superficial world, afraid to step into reality, but say you dare to take that step into the unknown, risk all you have, go to the land of the people, live, eat, dance, breathe, sweat, sleep there...then you begin to experience at least some truth.

I've gone from a land in northern Europe, almost gushing in it's wealth and forward thinking policy development, to have arrived in a country who's heart beats to the rhythms of the drum, body sways to the movements to free of it of its slavery driven past, eyes saddened by withdrawn hope while souls cry out for connection and spare dinheiro...for certain their mind knows there must be a better way or place to live...so why does Brasil not know how wealthy it is...and what do we do about this? I think about this daily.

Garbage in the streets, tripping over blocks of upheaved concrete, questioning their ways of how they organize progress--blocks strewn all over the streets gives the impression that this is an uncared for derelict area, yet this is part of some "movement" by the mayor to "redo the streets"...but everywhere this organized...I wonder...

There is funding for cities tours to educate people about their city, their history, people, places; these tours are excellent, funded by the city they take only a donation from the participants in the form of food to serve those less fortunate; yet, there is so much pollution in their waterways and nothing being done about it...the contrasts of a 3rd world/ "developing" nation.

People are colourful here. I've had so many wonderful people help me as I fumbled through my broken espanogues! Yet they are so kind and patient, and for some reason this comes as unexpected, I'm not quite sure what part of my undestanding has created this stereotype, but everytime is it pleasantly remodelled.

So how did Brazil first greet me?
With an on the spot Frevo performance as I arrived at the terminal in Recife, and I thought to myself, (with mild trepidation), if this is any indication of what this place is gonna be like, it should be a good time!

So what is my daily life like here?
Well, daily breakfast has consisted of the same options: tropical fruits (papaya, abacaxi (pineapple), orange, melon, watermelon); breads/buns/cakes; hot mystery foods and a lady who cooks "tapioca"--which of course, if NOT the same as what we normally think of as tapioca back home! This is basically like a tortilla made of loose manioc flour which is heated in a hot pan forming the thick tortilla, which is usually filled with cheese or ham, (but there are of course other options). After trying out some of these foods, and knowning it would have to get me sometime, I've managed to survive the last 2 weeks despite a common travellers sickness while acclimatizing to the regions foods, by limiting myself to survive on bread, water and bananas all last week. A good experiment, thankfully successful and over (fingers crossed!).

After breakfast, the fun begins...we "hail" a bus, climb on (very steep steps), pay the attendant (not the driver), push past the stiff steel rotary turnstall, squeeze into an already packed bus as much more as is possible and hope that you don't end up with anyone else's sweat on your body other than your own, as you hang on for dear life while the bus manouvers in chaotic traffic and jolts between stops and starts; all the while trying to keep an eye out for your stop--cuz if you are not by the door the bus driver won't stop for you, or if you are too far back in the crowd you'll miss getting off, as I witnessed poor Soraya and Mamud get caught behind a gentleman who dropped his papers, and I was left standing at our destination wondering where and when they would show up?! There is an interesting cultural tendency here on the bus, quite thoughtful actually, where those who are sitting offer to hold your baggage on their lap for you while you try to survive the bus ride...thank God!

So finally at our destination, we walk the old colonial streets of Recife Antigo, usually with a bit of drizzle in our face--it is winter here, the so called "rainy season" despite the 25-30 C temperatures. At our office, located on "Rua Bom Jesus" (rather appropriate I think), we begin our lectures in the morning, and training in the afternoons. Here's a interesting fact, for your fact-book: we are located next to the first Synagogue in the Americas (e1636), from which the Jewish people later moved to establish New York: "23 of them moved to New Amsterdam, the future New York City. There they formed the colonies' first Jewish community."

Some days in the morning, I take a run along the beach path, where I meet the colourful people of Recife on their morning routines--there are the exercisers, running, walking, strolling--a common exercise attire is men in speedos, or the speedo-tshirt combo (the combos with the "bright speedo" sticking out always get me gigglin'), and women in 3/4 length tights and t-shirt, with head-visor to block sun; and their are "watchers"--the regulars who are setting up their coconut stands, bringing in various tropical fruits, bargaining out of their VW vans, and those preparing their seats on the beach--it's a race to get the best "sales" spot. Then there are the regular homeless people and dogs, curled up in the shade of a palms and still cool sand. If I managed to catch the regular exercise group, I would join in exercise-dance program, which always put a smile on my face.

I have since replaced my morning runs with evening training in Capoeira (commonly known as the Brazilian martial art, but also explained as a "game"), which to my own surprise, I did not expect to enjoy combat as much as I have! Perhaps its the base beat that keeps me going. Capoeira originated as a means of sugar planatation slaves to combat colonial owners, disguising training as a "cultural dance" encircled by the music group who kept the base beat with instruments and singing while combatants trained against another. So far, I have learned the following moves: jinga, esquiva, bencao, cocorinha, au, meia-lua...and i'm craving more! Soraya is now reassured that I can protect her on the streets of Brazil as we continue to study local culture! I've also stumbled upon a dancing troop, where I have begun studying Brazilian dances...how long did you bet that would take ?! haha!

I continue to pick up the portugues, and between the three of us (students) here, I've managed to save us a few times...most amusing was ordering pizza over the phone last night...somehow, as Soraya stood next to me madly flipping through the food translation section, while I and the pizza guy at the other end laughed hysterically at our inability to completely comprehend what each other was saying, we managed to order a "mystery" pizza, and i perfected my portugues pronounciation of my room number...how many times did that take?! i'd probably start crying from all the laughter if you asked me to react the situation....

By the way, I just have to say, "estaba linda este noite"...how I love the sound of portugues language in song...there are many great rhythms in Brazil, but as I learn, so many of the ones that are well known outside of Brazil are from the Nordeste (northeast) region, of which I am in; "Frevo" which celebrates 100 years this year, and orginated here in Recife, drives Carnaval, as does the famous common Maracatu. Samba is also from this region. The well known "Carnaval", pretty much originated here in Recife & Olinda (sister cities), and are more the authentic celebration than the other commonly known Carnaval de Rio de Janiero. Capoeira also comes from this rich cultural and historic region. And the reason for all this? Well, the Northwest point of Brasil was were the first collonists arrived, so there you go!

Another interesting fact for your FACTBOOK: The only reason Rio de Janeiro become as populated as it did was bc Recife/Olinda, where the Prince of Portugal first sailed to (running away from Napoleon) with his 40 ships and 15,000 people of his court, was not established as a center to maintain 15,000 people who did not work but only "lived" in the court, since R/O was a region of hard working people...so the Prince sailed onto Rio...now, you would only get that story from a local.

Lunch times are devoted to searching out a local "pay by the kilo" self-service establishment, of usually home-made-like food. It's another popular cultural tendency in the Recife, Antigo area, which really comes alive on week days, but is pretty much dead quite on weekends.

Home time involves the same maddening bus ride, but usually with a seat instead of standing, thankfully so, bc it's a long one, just as packed, and smells even worse...we have now been conditioned to dread the moment we pass the channel, which must be the main sewage dump of the city, and leaves me thinking the rest of the way about creative ways to fix the problem, clean the city and educate the people...afterall, I am learning that the problem with the pollution here is coming down to education. As we move to higher levels of education of energy consumption and utilization in "developed" countries, there is still the more basic level of education required here for sanitation, pollution, and health. We take this basic education as common sense, and it is hard to comprehend that people just don't understand not to throw their garbage on the streets.

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We managed to get some local sight seeing in as well on our days off:
Francisco Brennand Ceramic Gallery: beautiful open garden and studio galleries set in the Atlantic rainforest north of Recife ("Hee-see-fee"). I was interviewed by local jounalists, and somehow in 3 languages (english, portugues, and spanish) we were able to communicate! don't know if they posted it yet, but this is the supposed link: www.revistadobrasil.net

Porto do Galinhas & surroundings: Most famous beach area; beautiful clear blue waters, surfing, kite-surfing; great local foods--yummy Beijupira (a local white fish)...a dream come true! This was an interesting ride through the country side, to see how locals live, to really know the country, to see the reminents of past coconut plantations, and the beautiful faces of the people of the country.

City Tours: First tour was of the "pracas"=city squares/parks, little points of refugee in a busy concrete maze, in honour on the birthday of their designer "Burle Marx". The second tour was of "local poets", the people who coloured the culture of Recife--Frevo creators, to poets, and writers. They have statues around the city of these interesting people.

Duke Ellington Orchestra Live!: Part of the Recife Jazz fest, we went to the show in the historic Teatro Santa Isabel, which after talking to Ravi, from the horns section of the orchestra, who we happened to bump into at our hotel, was probably the most glamourous of all the places they have played on this tour around Brazil!

The BEACH!: Of course, we like to take in the sun as much as we can (partially due to trying to dry out from the Denmark experience), but how could we not! It's right outside our door. Most people don't go into the water here bc of 2 things: it's not the cleanest water, and the sharks! There has been an increase of shark attacks in the last 2 years...many theories exist as to why, some say human intervention with a port built further south has driven them here to feed. And of course, the locals who try to sell you anything from the shrimp in the buckets balanced on their heads to sunglasses and peanuts!

So what else has Brasil given me?
Well, visiting this continent always opens my eyes to the real conditions that most of the people in this world live in. It has ignited a greater fire for the need to do what we can to strive for a just economy and living conditions by becoming an educated as possible--don't believe what you are told, not even from me, unless you experience it yourself. Then go do something about it.
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Well, the morning's rain has turned into a sunny and windy mid-day, the kids from the local favela are out on the reefs doing flips into the ocean water and it's just about time to get outside and enjoy the air again... until next time, remember your neighbor.

Adeus do Brazil, Andrea

After giving up on the notion that I would be able to find any place in Denmark to fix my salsa addication, I was pleasantly surprised to find a club in Copenhagen, "Club Mambo" on a saturday night that was really moving! Originally, after scoping out the dancing scene in Denmark I was disappointed to find that the friday night scene at Club Mambo was basically dead, and that the scene in Aalborg had all but closed down for the summer months. But after a little serendipity, I found my self back in Copenhagen on a saturday night, walking by this same club, and a line up outside. So I stopped by and it was really moving!

As I stood against the wall walking the dance culture evolve on the floor, I was pleased to be around this vibrant life that I was missing--finally music to awake my soul! It was full of creatures from all walks of life--the beginners just trying to coordinate these new found body movements to the movements of their soul, the wannabe-pimp who I almost slapped for coming to close, and the passion-to-pain dancers who look like they are moving in such tension, to the techno-corrects, those that dance-from-the-box as I call it, you know, learn the moves, and move through the motions, looks kinda funny, but I don't really care, whatever moves you! And then I was pulled onto the dance floor, from one person to another, until this sweet and funny old African grandpa pulled me on to the dance floor...and as most people know, I don't believe in rejecting a dance (unless the person is threatening to my safety or they've been scratched off my dance card for good reason), so I find myself dancing with this man, and wondering why is was a little off--meaning his movements sort of awkward and "chunky", until I realized he was blind in one eye! now that was interesting, he was having the time of his life, laughing, playing, tricking me to follow, and then laughing, and when i tricked him back he just laughed more--it was an experience, let me tell you...and the rest of the magical night continued, from meeting people who would just talk to me or dance and chat....salsa, bachata, merengue...the list goes on, the characters evolved. A stuck up man, who asked me to merengue, then asked for a second when he started to speak to me in Spanish and once he found out I was from Canada spoke french, being really "proud" for being from France, assuming I was french then, was disturbed to find out I spoke english and said ok, enough in the middle of a song! And left me on the dance floor! As my british friend would say "The Bloody French!", I just say, too bad for him...I couldn't help but wonder as I watched him move from women to women, thinking he was Rico Suave! Too funny, I should've posted his picture on the web and rather said, "watch out for this one!". Thankfully, another guy pulled me onto the dance floor, who must've witnessed this and showed enough to appreciate dancing with me! And then there was Willy...funny Willy, who offered to buy me a drink, and at that time of the night I could use it, and I had noticed Willy, I knew he could dance--the kind of creative ball of energy that is natural and fun...and then he asked me "Pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?", to which I responded, "sure", and then he told me he would like to dance with me, to which i responded "ok"...and i think he thought this was all too simple...so in the meantime, as we finished up our drinks, we discussed, and it turns out "Willy" has lived in Denmark for 10 years, so his Spanish accent was not too strong, and upon telling me he was from Cali, as in the Salsa capital of Colombia, I knew it made sense that Willy moved the way he did. Little did he know who he was dealing with, and this was kinda fun on my part. So then, I asked him if he had a Spanish name--Willy was rather americanized, which is sometimes common in Colombia, but I really wondered if what he was telling me was true, and as it turns out, he told me it was just the way his parents named him and he was really from Colombia...interesting I thought. So, then he asked again if he could dance with me, and I said for sure, and he was concerned it was because he bought me a drink, and said "but all i have given you is water, so you don't have to dance with me because of this", to which i replied, "no really, it's alright", and as we finished up our drinks we hit the dance floor. And I don't think Willy was expecting that I could move at all, being from Canada and all, you know those frigid cold winters that keep everyone's mojo frozen...and well, we had a blast...and needless to say he was shocked, it was really quite funny....he followed me off the dance floor and stared raising both his hands in the air and shaking them as if to give up, saying "my God you are professional"...then she stared me in the eyes for what seemed an endless minute until shaking his hands saying "Lady, you've captivated me"....shaking his head in disbelief and walking off...it was really something else for me, I was kinda trying not to stare at him back, didn't think I didn't anything different at all, but this was really funny, and poor ol' Willy in his black blazer, white dress shirt and black Fidora disappeared stunned back into the rest of the crowd.

Overall, there was definitely a heavily influenced latino crowd, but generally a good mix of people, having a good time, not too clique-like, although there were defintely some people who stuck together...but that's like everywhere. The club is about the same small-size one as back home, and turns out it is the only one left in Copenhagen--which is the biggest of the Scandanavian countries, so that gives an idea of how many people actually get out to latin dance up here...and Serendipity this was indeed!

I danced 3 hours straight, and my feet sure felt the blisters the next day...the was only thing that stopped my pleasant experience from running until 5am, when the club actually closes...guess i've softened up a bit in the rural land! The walk back at 2am was essentially safe, and amusing. Copenhagen is really a city that moves all night. The Danes, and their imports, stumble out onto the streets late at night, and hit the clubs even later...I'm talking like 12-1am getting into a club as normal for them, and staying later. But lucky I hit the sack early, as my weekend had many more adventures that I will get into next time....

~Live like there's no tomorrow, Dance like nobody's watching, and Love like you've never been hurt~

Peace,
A

So for the last week I've had a great opportunity to take some time and visit my family in Poland. Every time I come I get a chance to see how this country is growing, facing challenges and adjusting to its new place in the European Union.

This year, 2007, the problem is that there is an employment gap--not enough people left to fill all the required jobs because everyone has left to other E.U. countries to make an extra buck on a bigger coin, which was the big deal of 2006. As I sit back and watch what happens to my ancestoral land, I can't help but be concerned about its future. But as I see it, little do those know who have left the value that their own "kraj" holds. The illusion that the other side of the fence is brighter is nothing new....until you step on that soil and realize it yourself. Not only is the lack of people to employ actually become a problem for the country, but the construction here is incredible--not only are new roads and bridges popping up everywhere, the train lines are being renovated and "americanized" shopping centers are growing. This construction has inevitably created it's own mess, traffic jams "corki", and train delays (as i experienced yesterday)...the people can hardly complain about that--at least finally this country is cleaning up it's infrastracture and creating jobs. There is alot of work to do here.

In 2005 the complaint was the adjustment to the new EU. Commuter roads (what we know as highways) for intercity travel were a chaotic mess--2 lanes, one in either direction being used as 4, people speeding rectlessly pushing infront of another car when their carelessness brought them too close to their limits-a near death trap. Then there was the grave concern of the country's rail system collapsing because neighboring countries were deciding to use the roads for transporation of goods, and then the roads collapsing because of improper use by heavy trucks and excessive travel.

But the Poles knew this would happen, sort of...afterall who likes change?! Prior to their entrance in to the EU, in 2003-2004, the air was filled with animosity towards this new regime. I recall the concern from the honey makers that their own homegrown honey, which for thousands of years has been made better than anywhere else on the planet, in my opinion; better quality, taste, made naturally etc. was now up to facing standards imposed by the E.U....and what does the E.U. know about how to make honey?! They just want to regulate it, and now these humble honey farmers were going to face losses because they did not have the infrastructure to meet the imposed regulations and bureaucractic vomit--what blasphemy! And suffer they did...from the moment of my realization of this new perspective, did my mind change about what this was all about.

At least now they are adjusting, accepting the changes and moving forward, some for better, some for worse.

And as I see it, they will learn, but hopefully those who remain will stay and start building up the treasures they have within rather then selling their rich soul elsewhere for petty jobs in the hope that they can make a buck worth more on the exchange....is it really worth it to leave your home to build up another's just for an extra buck...time to take off the shades Poland, you are beautiful in yourself.