Halloween...in Brazil???
The doorbell just rang. It's 9:15. I open the door to find 7 kids from the condominium with plastic bags in hand, yelling (with a Brazilian accent in English) "Trick OR Treat!" Kids don't trick or treat here. Luckily, I have a bag of Jolly Ranchers in the cupboard for emergencies (not this kind). The emergency is usually my own desire for something sweet and American! There is a half eaten bag of Reese's peanut butter cups in the fridge--but there's no way I was giving those away tonight--Brazilians don't even like peanut butter and we DO! After telling them they were all crazy! Cala boca! Fala seria meninos! (Shuuttt Up! Be serious boys and girls.) I calmly added, "Espera." (Wait) Walked to the kitchen cabinet, retrieved the bag of Jolly Ranchers and kindly passed ONE (Jolly Ranchers are hard to come by here, not they are nonexistent here) to each child. Too bad Sierra was all ready fast asleep.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Comment People.
I know there aren't millions of people reading my blog, but I do know there are some. I know this because some tell me they do. However, I imagine there are more of you reading this blog site, regardless of how boring it is at times, and I have no idea who you are or whether or not you are enjoying the time relaxing over the computer and my blogsite and perhaps a cup of hot coffee.
My advise: COMMENT!
It's not very hard. Just click on the comment link at the end of each post and type what's on your mind. The settings are set to allow anyone to comment. You can comment anonymously even, just please refrain from being rude. We are a zen family. Peace and love and all that good stuff, but let me know you're reading this and keeping up with us. Stop being a blog stalker. Become an active participant. Really, it's fun!
I know there aren't millions of people reading my blog, but I do know there are some. I know this because some tell me they do. However, I imagine there are more of you reading this blog site, regardless of how boring it is at times, and I have no idea who you are or whether or not you are enjoying the time relaxing over the computer and my blogsite and perhaps a cup of hot coffee.
My advise: COMMENT!
It's not very hard. Just click on the comment link at the end of each post and type what's on your mind. The settings are set to allow anyone to comment. You can comment anonymously even, just please refrain from being rude. We are a zen family. Peace and love and all that good stuff, but let me know you're reading this and keeping up with us. Stop being a blog stalker. Become an active participant. Really, it's fun!
Friday, October 26, 2007
Curitiba, Parana, Brazil
This past week was the annual 8th grade trip to Curitiba in the state of Parana. Seven teachers, one nurse, two security guards and 67 eighth graders assembled at Tom Jobim airport at 6 a.m. Sunday morning for our flight and the start of a very busy week. Every day was filled with activities beginning at 7 a.m. and usually ending at 7 p.m. We went to parks to play catch and rest in the grass, the wire opera house to test acoustics, a soccer game to cheer one Brazilian national team, on a train ride through the mountains, to a forest preserve to plant a tree, high ropes climbing to test our courage and limits, the recycling plant where they sort garbage that is not garbage, the university for urbanization and research development to better understand how much planning goes into a planned city, and a youth community center in a local favella to interact with other teenagers. The days were busy, the busses were full of napping students (and teachers) in between stops. The kids were great. They ate up all the activities. They were fully engaged and taking notes. And we had a lot of fun! Here are a few pics from the adventures.
First of many self-portraits. Me at the Kyocera Arena.
Self-portrait #2 with some of my advisees.
One of the beautiful sunsets we were blessed with.
Self-portrait #3 at the entry to the botanical gardens in Curitiba.
This is a shot of the botanical gardens looking toward one section of the city. The climate is very different in Curitiba. It is much like Minnesota actually where one minute it is sunny and warm and a few minutes later you can have rain and a ten degree drop in temperature. It was actually pretty fun to be in the cooler weather for a few days and wear a couple of the sweaters that I have tucked away in my closets.
First of many self-portraits. Me at the Kyocera Arena. 
Self-portrait #2 with some of my advisees.
One of the beautiful sunsets we were blessed with.
Self-portrait #3 at the entry to the botanical gardens in Curitiba.
This is a shot of the botanical gardens looking toward one section of the city. The climate is very different in Curitiba. It is much like Minnesota actually where one minute it is sunny and warm and a few minutes later you can have rain and a ten degree drop in temperature. It was actually pretty fun to be in the cooler weather for a few days and wear a couple of the sweaters that I have tucked away in my closets. Monday, October 15, 2007
Dreamworks went too far with this one. This weekend we had a four day holiday weekend with Children's Day Friday and Teacher's Day Monday. We were busy Thursday night through Sunday morning with outings and friends. Sunday I fell ill and we became home bound. In efforts to keep me company, Joe went to the video store and picked up several DVDs to fill the day. One of them is Shrek 3. We watched it last night. I have to say I was really disappointed. I feel like they went a little far with the sexual innuendos and attempted humor. Any moms and dads reading? I would love other opinions on this. Am I getting conservative in my old age? I am approaching 35, or is it as ridiculous as Joe and I thought while exchanging glances every 30 seconds due to the nature of the comments made on screen. For example, Snow White's tattoo of the heart with Dopey's name on her shoulder. Please comment and give me your opinion. I personally feel they should have stopped at Shrek 2 when the reputation was still reputable.
Friday, October 05, 2007
This past week, I finally talked to my sister again. It had been almost a month and a half since the last time we spoke. (I need to be better about initiating contact) Hence, a bottle of wine and four hours on the phone later!!! In the end, it is possible she will be able to come to Rio for Carnaval this year!! Last year a couple of colleagues' sisters visited, and I sulked because my sister wasn't here and she is way prettier and way smarter than those other sisters.. So, in preparation for Dana's possible upcoming visit....here's a video of one of the blocos from last Feb.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Juxtaposition of Class
Rio de Janeiro is popular for many things beautiful; Carnaval, New Year's Eve, beaches, music, tropical vegetation, people, food, but what is often overlooked amidst the high society of the rich and famous is the extreme poverty that much of this city's population live in. The extreme poverty that lines the surrounding mountain sides where thousands of people live with inadequate supplies, services, or sanitary conditions.
Rocinha, Rio's largest favela (slum) neighbors Escola Americana, the most expensive school in all of Rio. The favelas are said to be full of crime and drugs and danger. Most Cariocas (people who live in Rio) are scared of the favela, especially Rocinha, because any and all news coverage involves drug gangs, police, and guns. Movies like Cidade de Deus (City of God) depict a life of violence and drug use as the destiny for children who are born into the favela.
Some believe that as many as 400,000 people live in Rocinha alone. It truly is a city in itself, set up with what most would coin a Modern Day Robin Hood method of maintaining order. There are established organizations responsible for providing much needed resources such as support for day care, medicine for the sick, and money for the poor. They also have been known to build asphalt roads, host huge community parties, and even sponsor other recreational spaces and activities, such as soccer pitches. These groups normally maintain a very high level of control over social behavior, strictly prohibiting street crimes such as rape, muggings, and break-ins within the favela. Even so, besides drug trafficking, such organizations in Rio have historically been involved in arms smuggling, bank robberies, kidnapping, and murder.
It's no wonder the locals are apprehensive about passing through. So apprehensive that non-residents avoid travel through the favelas. However, as a result of the high international profile of the drug trafficking that occurs in the favelas, there are almost daily jeep tours into the favela for visiting foreigners. Each time I watch one of these jeeps pass Escola Americana and venture up the hill, filled with camera toting tourists, I feel a pang of sorrow. There is something oxymoronish about humans seeking out other humans to "see" as if venturing on a visit to a local zoo. It seems to darken the line between the "US" and "THEM" mentality that plagues so much of our society worldwide.
Last Friday, I ventured into Rocinha. Not in a jeep on tour instead with four of my students and a security guard from school to visit a Creche (daycare/community center) in the community. The experience is one that changed not only my perspective of the favela but the perspective of four adolescents as well.
Our van stopped at an opening to the favela on the other side of the tunnel from school where we met Dell, an employee from the Creche. Dell escorted the six of us up the hill through narrow, damp passageways that were not more than four feet in width. At times, our footing was a bit precarious as there was often water running down the path that we followed up or the steps were more than one leg stride apart and uneven. Myself and my students were very chatty prior to our assent. Once we started our trek, we each fell silent and soaked in the sounds of our surroundings. The air was filled with music--hip hop, funk, samba, American 80's, chatter of people buying their morning bread and coffee, children making their way down the hill for school or peddling or soccer or whatever the first item on their daily agenda might be, television programs blared from the open doors of the houses we passed within an arms reach, and laughter the sound of laughter filled the air.
We made it to the top of the hill and were greeted by Marcia, the Creche manager. She kindly gave us all a few minutes to catch our breath from the hike we had just endured before she went into her explanation of the operations of the Creche. The center houses programs and care for children ranging in age from four months to 18 years. The first house we visited held the infants up to age four. While there we were able to spend some time with the three and four-years-old children coloring and chatting. At one point, I became a human jungle gym for approximately six boys. They were climbing on each other to climb on me...and laughing their laughter filled the room.
We visited the nursery where the infants are cared for during the day. For every one adult there are five babies between the ages of four months and one year. Many of the infants spend hours a day in their crib with nothing more than a mobile to occupy their developing mind.
After visiting the first house, Marcia escorted us to what would be considered the "teen center". In Brazilian public schools, children attend class either in the morning or the afternoon, not all day. When these children are finished with their public school class, they come to the teen center for additional classes and enrichment. Recently, a U.S. based NGO sponsored the purchase of five new computers for the teen center, so for the first time these young adults are able to access the world to see what is possibly beyond the borders of the favela. The teen center offers classes in computer, English, math, capoeira, and crafts. As well, the teen center serves as a safe haven for these adolescents to spend their afternoons.
Following our visit, we descended the same path we had previously climbed, noticed new things that were there the first time but went unnoticed, and continued to be bombarded with the sounds of busy life in the favela.
On the ride back to school, one of my students made a very insightful observation. She was commenting on the peculiarity of the doors to the houses being wide open. One house we passed revealed a woman dancing in her living room to the radio. My student went on to talk about the beauty of feeling safe enough to leave your door open. Specifically, she recalled the locks at her own house which are bolted tight whenever she and her family are inside. The irony was clear in the reflective tone of her voice.
Once back at school, I and my students were surprised by the size and the cleanliness and the quiet of our campus. A place we each spend five days a week at was suddenly unfamiliar. It appeared different. For a moment, it felt as though the campus was abandoned. The sounds that had flooded our ears moments before were no longer audible and suddenly the lack of sound in our familiar space was foreign.
It is easy to imagine what it must be like living in a place contrary to our own surroundings. It is easy to listen to the media coverage that continuously labels groups of people or areas of the world as dangerous or unsafe. It is easy to take for granted the luxuries we live with although we haven't necessarily done anything personally to obtain them other than being born into it. It is not so easy to eliminate the blame we might feel for those who live in extreme poverty every day because that is where they were born. "Get a job. Move out. Go to school." It is easy to give the direction the advice when we are not the one who has to take action.
Brazil has an issue with class as astronomical as the U.S.'s issue with institutionalized racism. To illustrate that, observe the two pictures below:
Favela Rocinha--only a small portion of it is shown in this photo. Narrow passageways instead of streets weave through the maze of houses built on top of houses.
Aerial shot of Gavea, my neighborhood--multi-million dollar condos and green space. Jockey club and Lagoa shown.
This is not to claim that there are not people in the world who have worked hard for or earned the quality of life they have. It is only to remind us that children are our greatest resource and at times we may need to open our eyes to something other than what we know as the way it is to be reminded that this resource needs to be handled with care. If I only had the answers...
Was it merely coincidence that at Sunday's mass the gospel reading was that of the rich man and the beggar Lazarus? Luke 16:19-16:31
Rio de Janeiro is popular for many things beautiful; Carnaval, New Year's Eve, beaches, music, tropical vegetation, people, food, but what is often overlooked amidst the high society of the rich and famous is the extreme poverty that much of this city's population live in. The extreme poverty that lines the surrounding mountain sides where thousands of people live with inadequate supplies, services, or sanitary conditions.
Rocinha, Rio's largest favela (slum) neighbors Escola Americana, the most expensive school in all of Rio. The favelas are said to be full of crime and drugs and danger. Most Cariocas (people who live in Rio) are scared of the favela, especially Rocinha, because any and all news coverage involves drug gangs, police, and guns. Movies like Cidade de Deus (City of God) depict a life of violence and drug use as the destiny for children who are born into the favela.
Some believe that as many as 400,000 people live in Rocinha alone. It truly is a city in itself, set up with what most would coin a Modern Day Robin Hood method of maintaining order. There are established organizations responsible for providing much needed resources such as support for day care, medicine for the sick, and money for the poor. They also have been known to build asphalt roads, host huge community parties, and even sponsor other recreational spaces and activities, such as soccer pitches. These groups normally maintain a very high level of control over social behavior, strictly prohibiting street crimes such as rape, muggings, and break-ins within the favela. Even so, besides drug trafficking, such organizations in Rio have historically been involved in arms smuggling, bank robberies, kidnapping, and murder.
It's no wonder the locals are apprehensive about passing through. So apprehensive that non-residents avoid travel through the favelas. However, as a result of the high international profile of the drug trafficking that occurs in the favelas, there are almost daily jeep tours into the favela for visiting foreigners. Each time I watch one of these jeeps pass Escola Americana and venture up the hill, filled with camera toting tourists, I feel a pang of sorrow. There is something oxymoronish about humans seeking out other humans to "see" as if venturing on a visit to a local zoo. It seems to darken the line between the "US" and "THEM" mentality that plagues so much of our society worldwide.
Last Friday, I ventured into Rocinha. Not in a jeep on tour instead with four of my students and a security guard from school to visit a Creche (daycare/community center) in the community. The experience is one that changed not only my perspective of the favela but the perspective of four adolescents as well.
Our van stopped at an opening to the favela on the other side of the tunnel from school where we met Dell, an employee from the Creche. Dell escorted the six of us up the hill through narrow, damp passageways that were not more than four feet in width. At times, our footing was a bit precarious as there was often water running down the path that we followed up or the steps were more than one leg stride apart and uneven. Myself and my students were very chatty prior to our assent. Once we started our trek, we each fell silent and soaked in the sounds of our surroundings. The air was filled with music--hip hop, funk, samba, American 80's, chatter of people buying their morning bread and coffee, children making their way down the hill for school or peddling or soccer or whatever the first item on their daily agenda might be, television programs blared from the open doors of the houses we passed within an arms reach, and laughter the sound of laughter filled the air.
We made it to the top of the hill and were greeted by Marcia, the Creche manager. She kindly gave us all a few minutes to catch our breath from the hike we had just endured before she went into her explanation of the operations of the Creche. The center houses programs and care for children ranging in age from four months to 18 years. The first house we visited held the infants up to age four. While there we were able to spend some time with the three and four-years-old children coloring and chatting. At one point, I became a human jungle gym for approximately six boys. They were climbing on each other to climb on me...and laughing their laughter filled the room.
We visited the nursery where the infants are cared for during the day. For every one adult there are five babies between the ages of four months and one year. Many of the infants spend hours a day in their crib with nothing more than a mobile to occupy their developing mind.
After visiting the first house, Marcia escorted us to what would be considered the "teen center". In Brazilian public schools, children attend class either in the morning or the afternoon, not all day. When these children are finished with their public school class, they come to the teen center for additional classes and enrichment. Recently, a U.S. based NGO sponsored the purchase of five new computers for the teen center, so for the first time these young adults are able to access the world to see what is possibly beyond the borders of the favela. The teen center offers classes in computer, English, math, capoeira, and crafts. As well, the teen center serves as a safe haven for these adolescents to spend their afternoons.
Following our visit, we descended the same path we had previously climbed, noticed new things that were there the first time but went unnoticed, and continued to be bombarded with the sounds of busy life in the favela.
On the ride back to school, one of my students made a very insightful observation. She was commenting on the peculiarity of the doors to the houses being wide open. One house we passed revealed a woman dancing in her living room to the radio. My student went on to talk about the beauty of feeling safe enough to leave your door open. Specifically, she recalled the locks at her own house which are bolted tight whenever she and her family are inside. The irony was clear in the reflective tone of her voice.
Once back at school, I and my students were surprised by the size and the cleanliness and the quiet of our campus. A place we each spend five days a week at was suddenly unfamiliar. It appeared different. For a moment, it felt as though the campus was abandoned. The sounds that had flooded our ears moments before were no longer audible and suddenly the lack of sound in our familiar space was foreign.
It is easy to imagine what it must be like living in a place contrary to our own surroundings. It is easy to listen to the media coverage that continuously labels groups of people or areas of the world as dangerous or unsafe. It is easy to take for granted the luxuries we live with although we haven't necessarily done anything personally to obtain them other than being born into it. It is not so easy to eliminate the blame we might feel for those who live in extreme poverty every day because that is where they were born. "Get a job. Move out. Go to school." It is easy to give the direction the advice when we are not the one who has to take action.
Brazil has an issue with class as astronomical as the U.S.'s issue with institutionalized racism. To illustrate that, observe the two pictures below:
Favela Rocinha--only a small portion of it is shown in this photo. Narrow passageways instead of streets weave through the maze of houses built on top of houses.
Aerial shot of Gavea, my neighborhood--multi-million dollar condos and green space. Jockey club and Lagoa shown.This is not to claim that there are not people in the world who have worked hard for or earned the quality of life they have. It is only to remind us that children are our greatest resource and at times we may need to open our eyes to something other than what we know as the way it is to be reminded that this resource needs to be handled with care. If I only had the answers...
Was it merely coincidence that at Sunday's mass the gospel reading was that of the rich man and the beggar Lazarus? Luke 16:19-16:31
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