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

The Tribe of Twelve

When I first arrived at the Twelve Tribes I was absolutely stunned by the grand vista as well as all the pretty details, such as gardens at the base of every tree or little stone fountains. I arrived on Shabbat and spent the next day playing soccer, dancing, conversing and dining. While there are none of the difficult rules of the meditation center, the religious aspect can be oppressive at times and Jesus finds his way into each conversation.

The people here believe that we are at the end of an age and Yashura (Jesus) will come for the final judgement in about sixty years (just an estimate). The duality between God and Satan accompanied by a firm belief that they have found the one true path to salvation, keeps them from appreciating all the many diverse aspects of life. Nonetheless they are patient, respectful, generous, and loving. I have never seen such a cohesive community in my life and I didn’t see one single conflict during my stay. There isn’t any hypocrisy and they actually live what it says in the bible, which has quite a few lessons to learn from. For example, I can only pray that one day I will have their conviction, their love of life and other people, and such strong relationships.

During my stay I learned how to milk and care for goats, grow, package and consume Mate, irrigate fields of lemon-grass, train grape vines, and I learned a song on guitar called: Love Causes Peace to Flow (it actually sounds good). I also managed to avoid being bitten by the cobras that kill you in about thirty minutes, depending on the snake.

More frightening than the cobras was the power of persuasion that the community possessed. The other WWOOFer (person who works on farms for room and board) decided to get “babtised.” Before arriving, she was an atheist studying permaculture in Columbia. Now she is giving away her possessions and her studies to spend the rest of her life serving the tribe. She also won’t see her family again until they make the 3,000 or so mile journey to southern Brazil.

After the baptism I decided it was time to move on and packed my things. I said my thanks and farewells and was granted gifts. These included tribal mate, brown sugar, incence, a lemon-grass candle, and soap. My next stop would be the last: Florianópolis, an island whose praises were sung throughout my journey so much that it had gained almost mythological status in my mind.

http://www.twelvetribes.com/

Home

 My corner

Lemon-Grass

 The farm (Fish and Baptismal pond on the right)

Mate Factory

São Paulo

After a beautiful car ride through the hills of Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo State, I arrived in São Paulo City. I met up with Isadora, another twenty year old Vipassana Meditator. She has already sat four ten-day courses and is starting another once I leave. It wouldn’t be possible to find a kinder, more patient host and she taught me all about São Paulo and the Português language. She introduced me to fruit of the conde, which is now my favorite fruit by far (but its about $5 each) and Calda de Cana, which is even better yet, where you put stalks of sugar can in a big machine and it spits out a cup of pure sugar juice that tastes almost fruity.

We went to visit the woman I got a ride to the city with at a Kabbalah Center and took a “course” that was a bit like a sermon. It was great for my Português because he loudly enunciated every word about how pain and suffering is a signal that we must transform ourselves and we will suffer until we do so. Very few of the participants where Jewish and Brazilians seem open to any kind of belief. Everyone tries everything and has their own unique blend of various traditions. I have seen all kinds of blends of evangelicism, Catholicism, Buddhism, hari krishnaism, ayahuasca drinkism, Candomblé (an african religion), and of course the usual astrology/numerology/tarot stuff. I can't quite make out how you can believe so many things at once but at least its harder to find someone who claims that their religion is the best everwithout any knowledge of the others.

Another night I stayed with a different meditator and talked with her and her friend about politics. Any discussion of politics will have the same subjects. The corrupt government, the inequality, and the fact that everyone complains about problems without doing anything. Well, for the first time I was able to talk to people who actually were doing something. They both worked on conservation projects and her friend was doing research in the Amazon. She has lived in the rainforest for three years studying how replanted areas of the forest develop. It was a relief to see people with conviction and devotion to a cause. There doesn't seem to be many people who think about more than their own livelihood (although I suppose this is a global phenomenon).

After spending a night on a bus, I arrived in Curitiba. It was very futuristic with tubes for bus stops and a veritable army of people in orange costumes that say "Environmental Public Clean-up" with metal tongs to pick up trash. I didn't have much time before I left for the Twelve Tribes, a community of 80 Christians, where I was to live for the next week and a half.

 Isadora

 Ibapuera Park

 A couch of a fellow economist I stayed with after dancing at a Samba club all night

Ordem e Progresso!

 Free music for the anniversary of São Paulo

 Meditation Space

 Curitiba Mercadão (Big Market)

 The Curitiba Bus Tube

 

Ocupa Curitiba (Occupy Curitiba)

Dhammi Santi

When I arrived at the Dhamma Santi meditation center I was immediately inundated with words outside of my vocabulary. I had to learn the names of all the different foods, chores and dishes. I found out that the strange guiaba fruit I was eating was actually guava, mamão was Papaya (people here eat mountains of papaya that comes in a variety of sizes), and Caju was the fruit of the Cashew (the cashew nut is in the pit).

In the United States I took the same course which consists of meditation for ten days without speaking, writing, or anything but meditating. Because I only had $15 to my name, I couldn’t pay (it’s all by donation) so I came here to serve a course. This way I could also work on my Português, get in some meditation, and do something useful. The daily schedule was:

5:30 – 8:00 work

hour meditation

9:00-1:30 work

hour meditation

3:30 – 7:00 work

2 hours of meditation and a discourse

10:15 sleep

            Luckily the people I worked with were all talkative and fun (I heard that in the United States they follow the rule of only talking about the task at hand and when necessary). There were seven people from across Brasil and Argentina feeding ninety people. The only server who was my age was studying psychology and doing a seven month stay.

            The technique consists of developing focus (Samadhi) and observing the sensations to develop wisdom (Pranna). As you focus on the sensations throughout your body, it becomes so much easier to feel a subtle sensation on any tiny part and feel subtle sensations throughout the entire body. The more time you spend the more quickly you notice how you react to any situation, thought, or feeling.

The idea is that every thought and feeling has an accompanying physical sensation. When you try and tell what you are feeling by looking at your mind it doesn’t work. When you see what your body is doing it becomes obvious (more so with practice).  People are so surprised and delighted to hear that physically smiling actually tells your mind to be cheerful. Why the surprise? Are people surprised that the mind and body aren’t completely separate entities? That we are the ones in control of our feelings and emotions? What surprises me is that so few people take the time to understand what it means to be a conscious.

One of the rewards of these courses is difficult to describe. During and afterwards everything is more colorful, vibrant and marvelous. Everything that exists seems to be a miracle. Even your dreams become so much more meaningful and you can remember them all. People call it a Dhamma high. I think this is why you find so many travelers at these centers before they begin their journey.

Dhamma.org

 Rio de Janeiro should be called the Green Mountain state

Welcome to Dhamma Santi

 Home

 Path to the kitchen

Nicolas, a server from Argentina and a guy from Denmark on his way to the World Rainbow Gathering

The Brave Servers

Rio De Janeiro

The first morning in Brazil I woke up in my hostel dying from heat and went up to the terrace to take in the view that I couldn’t have imagined the night before. All the worries I had before arriving had disappeared and I think all of my fear was of fear itself. After a breakfast of granola and guava I took a speeding bus down the windy, hilly path to the Municipal Theater. Here, I met up with some people from couch surfing who were offering a tour of the city. I met several Italians, Brazilians, a man from Uruguay and another guy from the United States who had just finished studying and was looking for a place to live in Rio. It started as three of us talking in a mixture of Spanish, Portugues and English that only became more of a mess as more and more people joined us on our adventure.

What struck me most about Rio was its wildness. There were none of the cookie-cutter designs and lifeless buildings of America. All the walls have holes and vines. Trees and plants grow everywhere. Even the land isn’t flat and everything has a flavor of chaos. The people in Rio are all beautiful as well. Everyone is fit and pays attention to their appearance. Most people wear flip-flops and men usually don’t were shirts. There is an abundance of babies and children which is rare to see in the center of a city in America.
     After our group visited a stairway covered with flamboyantly painted tiles, a market, a monastary and many interesting monuments in the city, we went separate ways. I made my way to my couch-surfing host, Lincoln’s house and met him in his hallway. He was carrying an assortment of soaps. He explained that he sells cosmetic products for a living after having to leave the government due to a disease affecting his vision. His English and my Portuguese were both far from perfect but it was enough that we could begin to understand what the other was trying to say.  We had several conversations about the superficiality of Brazil (I talked about the United States) and about how to live an ethical and authentic life. He told me about his religion, Judaism, and offered many interesting metaphors on the subject.
            The next day I explored the city, buying lots of fruit, including Maracuja, Starfruit and more Guava. Later Lincoln and I met up with his friends to see the pre-carnaval. The Samba School Beija-Flor (hummingbird) rehearsed their march through the Sambadrome, the big stadium for carnaval, and lyrics were handed out to sing along. One of his friends used to be a director of a Samba School and explained that it is a competition, not a performance. It is like other sports, the goal is to win and the city prospers economically.

Before leaving the Rio I went to Ipanema beach, which was breathtaking despite it being cloudy. The water wasn’t nearly as warm as the beach I went to in Recife but there were huge waves that made up for it. That night I went to a Salsa club which became more and more American as the night went on. I ended up only getting a few hours of sleep before I had to start packing. I gave Lincoln a bottle of maple syrup and some incense and he sent me off with bars of soap and some perfume (he taught me how to use it and was surprised that not all men in the US use perfume). Then it was off to the bus headed for the meditation center in Morro Azul a few hours from the city.

 Hostel for the first day in Rio

 View from the hostel

 Where the king of Portugal moved his court after Napoleon invaded, naming Rio de Janeiro the capital of Portugual

 Escadaria Selerón (a very cool stairway)

 The first couch

 Lincoln, my first couchsurfing host in Brazil (right) at the Sambadrome

 Ipananema Beach

 Couchsurfers after the salsa club