The Final Days

Coming back to Florianopolis was a shock. A month away from the magical island had turned it into a distant dream. Seeing the bright colors and feeling the hot sun of Brazil quickly turned the dream back to a reality and all my memories of life on the island came back to me.

Over the weekend I visited my Brazilian family, visited Praia Mole, the beach I used to go to, and attended a friends graduation party. All the things that seemed strange and exotic the first time I arrived in Floripa now seemed familiar and comfortable. The people who I had greeted as a foreigner there only to learn, I now greeted as a friend with stories and lessons to share in my now improved Português.

My next and final stop was Rio de Janerio. I could now easily converse with my previous couchsurfing host with whom I could barely communicate with before. All the smells reminded me of the feeling I had when I arrived in Brasil that first time. I remembered not being able to imagine spending a whole seven months in such a foreign land. Now it’s the United States that seems like the foreign land.

Leaving Brasil I finally understand what all the study abroad advisors meant about it expanding your horizons or giving you another lens to view life. While I considered myself tolerant of all people and cultures, I never fully understood how true it is that it takes all kinds of people to make a world. After meeting people from all corners of the globe I really understood how beautiful and important each culture is. I could look at my habits and beliefs objectively from a distance and see how they are by no means superior than any other, and in fact, like everything in the world, contain many weaknesses that must be separated from the strengths. Perhaps the greatest boon of study abroad is being able to sort out and recognize, with clarity, what is universally helpful and harmful.

Another important lesson was the importance of working or having a purpose while travelling. After a day or two of seeing a city, it became necessary to do more than passively consume packaged experiences. I needed my experiences to have a context and understand how those experiences could apply to my life at home and change my world-view. I think to do this you need to stop being just an observer and actually immerse yourself in the productivity of a place.  I had much richer experiences working, studying and meditating than visiting Christ the Redentor with other tourists. You should approach another country not as a spy gathering intelligence but as an apprentice, practicing living in another world. If you are in Brazil you need to be a Brazilian for a while. Otherwise the benefits of your journey may be superficial and short-lived.

Retracing My Steps (Part One)

After Buenos Aires my next destination was General Rodriguez: Home to Tribe Isacar of the Twelve Tribes. Those who read my first entry about WWOOFing at the Tribe in Brazil may wonder why I would go back. The reasons are several.

1.     Most farms in Argentina are suffering economic hardship and don’t have productive work in the winter. The tribe on the other hand needs more workers for their numerous projects.

2.     It is much easier to practice Spanish in a community of 70 people from all over South America than working alone in a field.

3.     The tribe provides work clothes, does the laundry, makes a lot of mate and cooks incredible meals.

4.     For whatever reason I am still extremely interested in religion as well as community life and felt like I had more to learn.

While I was at the tribe I dug 4 meter holes for composting toilets, chopped a lot of wood, cared for the organic vegetable garden and helped construct a gigantic lodge. There were 7 other WWOOFers from Belgium, Germany, South Africa, Argentina and Brasil with other visitors daily. It was comforting having people from “outside” to discuss and at times critique the tribe.

While I was there I saw another baptism. He was a man who became an orphan at nine years old and was homeless since the age of nineteen. It was clear that the community had brought healing and meaning into his life, something that he expressed quite often. On the other hand, a 23 year old girl who had joined the tribe three years ago was visited by her sisters from Australia who she hadn’t seen since. Naturally her sisters were concerned and convinced her to leave the tribe without any notice and go back to Australia.

My feelings about the Tribe are still quite mixed and I can only conclude that like all things, it has good and bad aspects. It is clear to me that their faith does not lead to the truth or even tolerant views (in regards to homosexuality or equality of women) and yet their actions always seem positive and tolerant while providing a different model for human relations. Can positive actions and motives excuse what is in my opinion, radical views and perhaps even brainwashing youth?

Also, the tribe in Argentina wasn't as harmonious as the tribe in Brazil. I would attribute this to the fact Brazilians are generally more sociable and that Argentina had a single leader. Apparently all the tribes have a "head of the community" but I didn't even realize there was one in Brazil. What has always turned me off (and most people I think) about communities are the little problems that turn into big conflicts as people try to change others' behavior. In many places leaving a dish in the sink or personal items in the shared space can mean an hour of dispute. I was shocked to find none of this in Brazil. However, in Argentina the ideal of love, harmony and equality sometimes seemed sacrificed to a sense of entitlement as people tried to enforce rules. When a problem arose it was sometimes expressed as frustration and a command rather than a friendly suggestion and request. Nonetheless, conflict was minimal overall and as a whole, the organization was equally impressive as in Brazil.

After revisiting the Twelve Tribes, I continued retracing my steps to visit my couchsurfing host in Buenos Aires. Uruguay was next, a lovely old European country full of farms and quaint cities. Then I would revisit Florianopolis and Rio de Janeiro before my flight back to Vermont. 

Cabin and Fruit Trees

Other WWOOFers

Constructing a lodge

The Main House

And The Rest...

Since my last entry so many things have happened that it seems impossible to catalog them all. Most importantly, I've left Brasil to pass through Porto Alegre and arrive in Buenos Aires.
But first before leaving I had the good fortune to be able to meet Josh Farley, my professor from UVM and his family for lunch and a hike. He was working with another professor from the island on a permaculture project that I was able to help with. It involved a trip to farms in the nearby countryside of Santa Catarina.

All the farms we visited were small and tucked between the rolling hills and streams. The people were almost entirely German and most of them spoke German as well. The project involved planting trees and plants to shade cows (reducing area needed for grazing), improve their health, restore native species, provide açaí and wood to sell, attract bees for honey, sequester carbon, reduce erosion among other things. Unfortunately only one trip was made after almost all the professors in Brasil went on strike.

The week before I left was spent trying to absorb as much Brasil as possible, going to the beach, cooking seafood, or dancing. Finally the time came to pack my things and say farewell. On the bus to Porto Alegre I sat down and recognized the man next to me. It was the pilot who I had taught English a month ago on a business trip!

There isn't much to say about Porto Alegre except that, to my great pleasure, there was alot (I mean alot) of mate. Everyone is a Gaucho and there are countless stores that just have cowboy clothes, knives, whips, mate accessories and other farm things. After a few nights of couchsurfing with other students I caught the bus to Buenos Aires. 18 hours was plenty of time to reflect, listen to Brasilian music and feel saudades as I crossed over to Argentina.

The next week in Buenos Aires was fantastic. I met up with my dear Mexican friend, Delia, to explore the city. It couldn't be more different from Brasil. It had art, culture, history, European architecture, security (more or less), all things that Brasil lacked. But spending time with other Brasilian tourists, I realized that the love of life and energy of Brazilians is something grand and unique that makes up for its shortcomings.

The week was full of delicious meat, wine, tango, Spanish, and late nights. At 1:30 AM restaurants are still full of people, including families with children, eating their dinner. At 2-3 people start to go out and the city stays alive all night long. The last day I visited Velatropa, a commune next to the University with a theater student I had met drinking mate in the park. It was full of recycled art, houses hanging from trees, octagonal domes, and other fantastic projects. I listened to someone talk in Spanish about ancient civilizations and aliens and then headed back to the hostel for the last night before leaving Buenos Aires...To be continued

 A tree house

 Velatropa

 In front of a Gaucho store

Lot's of mate

 The obelisk

At the flower that opens

 Restoring native plants

Praias e Festas

I'm sitting down to write this blog entry next to a beautiful pool surrounded by palm trees, flowers and other manifestations of nature. Five friends and I spent the weekend at the paradisaical Praia do Rosa. Despite winter and a rainy forecast, the last three days have been perfectly sunny. The town is completely ours and all the inns and restaurants lining the streets are closed for the season. The beaches are equally still and tranquil.

The days were spent swimming, reading and walking along the edge of the sea. During the nights we returned to our cabin full of twisting wooden posts, yin yangs and other nice touches. With samba music playing and caparinhas in hand, we cooked a variety of dishes on the grill. The first night was our interpretation of the famous Churrasca (barbeque) of steak and chicken. We also cooked rice with some rubbery shellfish we found on the beach. The next night was fish donated by the fishermen we met and a pizza that became a mushy calzone after falling through the grill.

Since I wrote last I have been trying to take advantage of all my remaining time in Brazil (less than a month left). I've gone kayaking, taken my first samba and salsa dance lessons, and tried to make it to the beach as much as possible. I've also turned 21 which included a party at my host parents house.

Over twenty-five people from the States, Brazil, Chile, Mexico, Columbia, Poland, and Germany fit into our little house for the birthdays of me and my roommate Lucky, who's birthday is one day later than mine. There was crab soup, squid pasta, fish, oysters, shrimp and mussels all freshly caught. After midnight there was a cake and I handed over the birthday status to Lucky and the festivities continued until morning.

Unlike my other posts, this time I have no photos to share after getting sand in my camera but I have borrowed a few from my dear friend Maria.

Seafood Feast

 

The twenty-first Birthday Party-goers

 Praia de Rosa

Halfway Home

It’s been three and a half months since I left Vermont and there are three and a half months until I return. It seems like it has been a lifetime since I left and the idea of going back seems fantastical. Traveling by myself, I feel like I left a whole world behind to inhabit an alternate universe. The distance isn’t measured in space, but in time, producing the strange feeling that I’m moving quickly even as I stand still.

And yet it has only been half of the time. While it feels like time is racing by, in retrospect, it has actually been taking long and slow strides. I feel like I must take advantage of everything all at once because time is so short, and then I realize that every minute can contain an eternity. Time is the most illusive, shape-shifting concept for me to try to wrap my head around.

I have the freedom to think about such things because I have a long weekend for Labor Day and have decided to declare this Friday my Sabbath (writing doesn’t count as work, does it?). Exams just finished and I am looking forward to some time to relax and enjoy the island. Sometimes I contemplate how later I'll miss the smell of the ocean, the lazy palm trees or the calming breeze when a photo or a samba sends me back in time. I will truly miss the laid-back Brazilian attitude towards life, spending most of a day in a hammock, the poetic language, all the fruits, and the list goes on. I suppose that's one of the reasons for keeping a blog.

Here are a few pictures to keep the blog up to date (more or less):

The view from school

Beira Mar on the bus ride home

The Jesus hill

A pirate ship

The Adventure Continues...

Classes have started and as I expected, it has been harder finding time to write. In addition to homework, I am expected to read the Brazilian news in Portuguese everyday. I am teaching classes in English and will start working with on a permaculture project at the end of the month. To make matters worse, the bus ride to school is over an hour one way and with various other daily tasks, my time for creative ventures can be quite limited. 
 

The good news: I was given the best of host families. Monica and Christina, my Brasilian moms, are both artists and have decorated the house with artisan crafts. They are always saying things like: feel at home, why aren’t you using the pool? you aren’t eating enough! Etc. They also know the best places on the island and their house has a pool, a view of the lagoon and the ocean as well (its well worth the commute).  My roommate is a DJ studying in New Orleans. He has had a little more trouble adjusting since he didn’t speak a word of Portuguese, but I hope I’ve helped him out learning some important words.
 

These first few weeks I’ve been frequenting the beaches and checking out the night life which hasn’t provided much to write about. I also hiked to a village, “Costa da Lagoa,” only accessible by boat or hours of walking. I talked to a teenager there and he explained that the community is extremely close. There are none of the plagues of drugs, homelessness, and crime that you find in the city. But plagues spread and there are developers who hope to develop the area.
 

Whenever I ask old people about Florianópolis they always have stories about how their neighborhood used to be forest. Tourists wouldn’t flood the beaches and fill the streets during Carnaval . The aforementioned drugs, crime and homelessness were almost unheard of just a few years ago. Talking about this shift with an old lady, I asked how she felt about the changes. She said “I don’t like it very much. But at the same time its progress and the future.” Progress, it seems, is when a beautiful beach or a tranquil community gets "developed" and filled with worthless junk and unhappy people to “cash in” on all that value. If its something you don’t like that is progressing, the idea of progress should lose its positive connotations. 
 

On my street, a tourist from New Zealand has already been assaulted on my street and now has a pirate-like scar on his face. Its not strange for cars or motorcycles to disappear (including my host mom's motorcycle) and several houses nearby have been robbed. And I live in a good part of the island! This morning I hitch-hiked to the city and they picked up a dentist who's car was stolen last night and he only had one real (not enough for the bus).

I really must be studying too much if I’m already complaining about effects of development on society and nature. It must be because all my professors are Marxists. Florianópolis is still breathtakingly beautiful, especially now the tourists are heading north. 

One last thing about classes. Here, class is more like a 3 hour discussion. You study before class and then the teacher clarifies it by leading a discussion. Instead of having knowledge stuffed down your throat to be quickly expelled, you have to think, speak, and actually have a grasp of the material. I just need a little more confidence in my Portuguese to speak up more.

 

Costa Da Lagoa

 

Bryan, my American roommate

 Dandara and Raoni, my Brasilian brother and sister

I've been learning to cook seafood: Oysters, Mussels and Shrimp

The Magic Island

    I don't know where to begin to describe Florianópolis. It is a small city of 400,000 on an island with over one hundred beaches also known as the "Ihla da Magia" or "Magic Island." Almost 50% of the land is conserved and the trails through the forests are breathtaking.
    Right now I just finished napping in a hotel (reservations courtesy of International Study Abroad) and am waiting for the other students to arrive. I am finally about to begin my studies after two weeks on the Island. Carnival attracts all kinds of people. During the two weeks I met countless other travelers from Germany, Argentina, Colombia, South Africa, France, England, Lithuania, and the list goes on. I also met some other students here with whom I played poker and watched films (they knew more classic American films than I did).
    Once Carnival set in all work stopped and the streets were filled with crowds and music. There was a day called Bloco dos Sujos where all the men dressed like women except for the tourists who would remark how interesting the event was and take pictures of passing groups of cross-dressers. Luckily I was with a girl who had a pile of dresses she was throwing away and lent me one (see picture below). Another day just had costume parties all over the city. Of course there were also the many parades from authentic drumming lines and dancing to terrible electronica crowded with too many drunk people to move.
    After a week of staying up until six in the morning I decided to camp out in a hammock on the beach and recover my strength. Keeping my eye out for cobras, I hiked an hour and a half over a mountain, which is the only way to the beach except by boat. During the walk I talked with a nice couple from Lithuania who studied permaculture and were working on a permaculture farm in Floripa that hopefully I will see one day. Finally I arrived, covered in sweat, on the beach and jumped in. I spent some time reading and writing until the sun set and made myself a little fire. I didn't have many options, but roasted some apples which turned out quite well and then fell asleep to the lull of the ocean.

Center of Florianópolis

I'm not always the best couch surfer

A dinner of Passion Fruit Salmon

 Its true, all the women in Brazil are gorgeous!

My hammock at the Lagoinha do L'este

Sunrise on the beach