Cidade Maravilhosa!

Rio de Janeiro, 6,136,652 occupy approximately 1182.3 square kilometers.The greater metropolitan area is estimated to be home to roughly 11-13.5 million. The juxtaposition of the transatlantic rain forest and concrete is breathtaking to say the least.

View overlooking Gavea Jockey club from Christ the Redeemer

The "Carioca" (the name used for people from Rio de Janeiro) embodies a particular personality and attitude. One that is easy going, happy, relaxed and ready to put anything off until tomorrow in order to "curta sol na praia ou danca samba."

But Rio is a megatropolis. 19% of Rio's population live in favelas (Brazilian Portuguese for slums). Some of the original favelas were started as quilombos (independent settlements of fugitive African slaves). The areas later grew when slaves were liberated in 1888 and had no place to live. The housing crisis of the 1940s also forced the urban poor to erect additional shantytowns/favelas.

The favelas of Rio de Janeiro are built on the mountain side with some of the best panoramic views of the city. However, during rainy seasons, these areas are prone to flooding and mudslides, leading to numerous deaths each year.

View of Rocinha from Sao Conrado

Add to these very poor areas the fact the Brazil is one of the most economically unequal countries in the world with the top 10% earning 50% of the national income and about 34% living below the poverty line. During the 20th Century the Brazilian Government made several attempts to improve the nation's urban poverty problem. One of the most well-known is the relocation of 10,000 favela inhabitants to public housing during the 1970s while Brazil was under military governance, depicted in the film Cidade de Deus/City of God. Programs are continuously implemented but with little avail.

This huge contrast in economic dispertion leads to a sometimes volitale environment. On the surface, Rio de Janeiro is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. However, poverty perpetuates crime, and Rio is no stranger to crime. The desparate will go to extreme measures to put food on the table or clothes on their children.

Praias Lelon e Ipanema

I fell victim to this crime about a month and a half ago after living in Cidade Maravilhoso for three and a half years. A beautiful, sunny Friday afternoon, roughly 5 o'clock in the afternoon. Another American teacher and I were walking the beach on our way to take a quick swim and meet friends for happy hour. The beach was packed, the sun was shining. As we attempted to cross from Leblon to Ipanema near the water, we were suddenly jumped by about 15 teenage boys at one time. They immediately separated me from my friend and commenced to strip us of everything we had. My sunglasses were literally ripped from my face.

My initial reaction was to flee, attempt to run, fight off the little piranas, but the truth is I was completely outnumbered. The result was me getting more banged up than necessary. The delay in the struggle came because one boy wanted my watch, which needed to be unhooked in order to be removed. (He wasn't intelligent enough to know that.) He tried for what felt like 5 minutes to tear the watch from my wrist without opening it until I was able to yell in Portuguese that I would take it off.

We were left with the clothes on our backs and nothing else--literally. Thankfully, we have friends in the city. No body on the beach helped. Whether anyone saw the encounter I am not sure as it all happened very fast, but there was no reaction from any other person on the beach that day.

Where has this left me? My perspective of Rio de Janeiro has certainly been changed. I still love Brazil; I still love Rio; I still go out; I still walk the beach. BUT...I am far more cautious and at times downright scared than I ever was before this experience. I now go out with nearly nothing. I have a very plain watch. I don't carry a bag. I don't wear jewelry. I shove my cell phone in a pocket. I disperse money throughout all pockets and stuff a little in my bra. Being left that day without money to even jump on a bus and get back to my neighborhood left an ugly feeling of desperation that I don't ever wish to repeat.

Yes, these sorts of things happen in cities around the globe. Rio is not the only megatropolis in the world with crime. Lessons of life in the fast lane are sometimes harder to learn than others. I got this one. I don't need a repeat in order to understand.

Rabanada Bem

They might look like your average French Toast, but don't be fooled. These are genuine Rabanadas. Delicious and sinful, traditional Brazilian Christmas goodie. Let me share with you how to create these at your house. Make a batch to share with family and friends during your holiday feast. Add a little Brazil to the table.

Take bakery style dinner rolls. The kind that come in a "log" and you pull them apart. Pull them apart. Mix together milk, sweet and condensed milk, and if you can coconut milk. Soak the pieces of bread in the milk mixture. Beat eggs (2-3) in a separate bowl. After soaking each piece of bread, squeeze out excess milk, and dip in egg. Fry in pan with oil until golden brown. Cover with cinnamin/sugar. Enjoy!!

They are very similar to American French toast in preparation, but the milk mixture makes an incredible difference in final taste.

ENJOY!! Happy HOlidays!

Digital Photography has changed the way we socialize.

Seriously, I was watching a novela (soap opera) a few weeks back and there was a scene in a bar/club. There were 2 main couples (in the show) who had gone to this bar together. Part of the scene in the novela included the four characters taking pictures of each other and immediately looking at the camera to see if the photo turned out, laugh at a crazy face, or gush over how beautiful one of the others looks in the photo. After this brief segment of the scene, the scenario of the novela continued (in the bar/club), and the camera was put away. The picture taking portion didn't really have anything to do with the plot.

It made me think: Digital Cameras have changed how we interact with each other.

'NO LOOKING AT THE PICTURES UNTIL SUNDAY ON THE WAY HOME!'
My friend Diane established this rule Friday night of a recent Girl's Weekend. I have to admit we were all a bit resistant; however, we complied. It was not easy at first, but by Saturday afternoon we were no longer thinking about immediately turning the camera around, pushing the the play button, and looking at our pictures. We accepted that whatever crazy photo might surface on Sunday could discreetly be deleted later if necessary. We also agreed that if we missed the really great shot because we didn't know it turned out the first time, it wasn't meant to be.

Remember having to wait for the film to be processed? Picking up the prints from Walgreen's, shuffling through the stack sometimes still a little sticky from the chemicals used. In a roll of 24 or 32 you may have ended up with 10 decent shots, and you had to pay for all 24 or 32 regardless of how blurry, dark, over-exposed they might be. There are benefits to only printing the 'good ones'. And we must be doing the Earth a favor by printing and discarding fewer pictures.

But I was thinking about the feeling of anticipation. The pleasure of receiving the pictures after so much waiting. How that is somewhat character building. We are able to be instantly satisfied, appeased by looking at our shots seconds after they have been taken, which is GREAT! At the same time, Sunday's drive back to Rio after the "no looking girl's weekend" was quite entertaining as we recapped our weekend adventure while scrolling through the pictures together for the first time. Try it the next time you have an afternoon, evening, weekend get together. Apply the no looking rule and observe the difference in the behaviors of people.

Life is beautiful!

Take a moment to appreciate the every day elements before they pass you by.

Meus Amores!

Sierra, Bira and I took a trip to Salvador, Bahia, Brasil a couple of weeks ago. This city is one of the most historic in all of Brasil. It was the first port city in Brasil and was the gateway for the Portuguese conquerors. The group Olodum is from Salvador, and the beat of their drums are a constant sound there. The city is still full of well preserved history in its buildings, music, food, and customs. It was a great 5 days.And my baby is growing and changing and so appreciative of what we have. On the way to the airport on the last day she said, "Thank you Mom! For bringing me here, for the stuff you bought me, for the boat ride." Ahh...life IS good!

Valeu Rio!!

The Room is FINALLY Transformed

Thank Goodness for a gentle, patient daughter.
Sierra has been asking me for 2 years to paint her bedroom. We finally did it. This past weekend was our weekend of projects. Monday was Brazilian Independence Day, so we had a 3-Day weekend. It was overcast and chilly all weekend, so no beach. I have worked a lot on my patience lately, so I was able to let the kids help without getting too frustrated. Actually, I didn't get frustrated at all. I found myself smiling pretty much the entire day. Here are the pictures to chronicle our hard work.

The walls were all white when we started. Sierra had hung several tweener posters on the walls in attempts at decorating, but she quickly removed them the night we brought home the paint.

Sierra, Leticia, and I started with the green wall...

And finished with the details around the corners of the pink sides...Then we had to wait until Sunday because the green needed to be "completamente secou" (totally dry).

Phase One Complete...good night...until tomorrow.

The girls started phase two by taking the paint we bought and mixing it with other leftover paint I had to create the colors they wanted to use for the balls.

Then, I outlined the balls on the wall, created the pattern, while the girls determined who would use which color. They were so organized and cooperative. It was fantastic to work all together.

I added some final touches and made sure edges were evenly coated...

And the magical bouncing balls made there way to Sierra's room.

Space and Stuff

We all simply occupy space with our stuff. It seems like we all have too much stuff and not enough space. When I decided to move to Brazil three years ago, I looked around my fully furnished home and asked, "Man, what am I going to do with all this? I worked really hard to get all this."

In about 30 seconds I replied, "It's just SPACE and STUFF."

And so the adventure to Rio de Janeiro from Cambridge, MN began. For three years, I've done relatively well at keeping the amount of stuff to a minimum. I live in a modest apartment with modest furnishing, and I am continuously passing on my stuff to someone else who wants it, needs it, would use it, appreciates it.

But something happened this weekend that slightly shifted my reference to my stuff. For the first time since living in Brazil I actually had the thought: I don't want to leave "that" behind. I'll take it with me where ever I end up going.

What is it? You may ask (assuming anyone is actually reading this post now).

This is the thing that prompted that thought last weekend. A table and two chairs. The table and two chairs that sit on the veranda of my apartment. The table and two chairs where we have our breakfast, lunch and dinner. The table and two chairs where I drink my morning coffee. The table and two chairs that have listened to hours of me playing the guitar. The table and two chairs that have supported numorous backgammon games. This table and chairs that was was a hand-me-down from my friends Jennifer and Valdir two years ago.

This table and chairs moved to the top of the container list should a move ever happen because last weekend this table and chairs got a little facelift. I unfortunately do not have a before picture; this photo is the after shot. A fresh coat of stain and it's new again.

But the important thing that it taught me: stuff is always stuff. I would liquidate my house all over again for the right move. It's the memory I now hold on to of sanding and cleaning and then painting them with great company on a lazy, dreary, cloudy Saturday afternoon that I get to hold on to forever. Whether the table and chairs make it into the container or not.

My baby's 11!I took the plunge and threw a HUGE part-Tay for the little angel...not so little anymore and encroaching on the teen years is an interesting adjustment for this mom who still feels too young to have a Middle School aged daughter. She continues to be the best part of my life, despite the mood swings. If I survive this transition in her life, I will be able to survive anything.

She thoroughly enjoyed her party, as did the 94 people who came to help her celebrate!

Sierra and her BFF Leticia. Look at those smiles!Breakin all my former mom rules, the party was from 5-9 on a SCHOOL night!! I know. We returned home around 10, after waiting for the last of the friends to be picked up. Sierra happily schlepped her gifts in, took a quick shower and begggged to open at least one! She opened them all. At 11:45 she was still smiling from ear to ear, but ready to crash. Friday morning getting up for school at 6:30 a.m. wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I think the adrenaline was still pumping from the night before.

Happy Birthday Baby!!

Inspiration, ideas, interest in moving it to the next level...
It's true. I've had several inspirations and ideas for the next blog posting in the last 4 MONTHS! But I haven't had enough interest in moving those ideas to the level of publication here. Writing takes heart. The heart and soul have to be in the right place before the ideas will just flow from brain to hand to page. I'm still feeling a little lacking in that inspiration, but I'm starting to believe I better do something about it soon or I may stop writing forever. And I don't like that idea.

So to get started with this first posting since April I thought I would share some random thoughts I have had.
First, If I complain when I can't find my favorite shirt because my maid washed it, ironed it and put it away, does that make me spoiled?
Second, Should I buy it, should I drive it, should I get it...Would I be happy driving a 1971 VW Beetle (called a Fusca in Brasil)?
Third, I like mirrors a LOT. What does that say about me?
Fourth, Is it really ok to go through life not having ANY plans for the future?
Fifth, When did I get old enough to have an eleven year old child?

My new leaf is turning over. I will work at updating this at least once a week. Because no matter how you feel after reading this, I am already feeling lighter having written it.

I'm still here

I have clearly been neglecting my blog. This addiction called facebook has taken over my computer time. I have not been creatively inspired in quite some time, which is making it difficult to even write this post. But to anyone who still checks this site from time to time, my apologies for my lack of attention. Another teaching year in Rio will be coming to a close soon. Incredibly three years have passed faster than I ever imagined they could. Somehow I feel like I've been a carioca my whole life. I hope to regain my ability to compose creative, thoughtful pieces of writing soon.

Pisoq Ruins 2009

Machu Picchu 2009

Pão de Açúcar--More pictures of our climb.

Pão de Açúcar--Sugar Loaf Mountain--is a peak situated in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, from the mouth of Guanabara Bay on a peninsula that sticks out into the Atlantic. Rising 396 metres (1,299 ft) above sea-level, its name is said to refer to its resemblance to the traditional shape of concentrated refined loaf sugar.
I've looked at this mountain from the bus window at least six times since making the climb. Each time, I am surprised and awed by what I accomplished. At first I said I would NEVER do this again.
My sore muscles told me for at least four days that I would probably never do the climb a second time, but in looking at some of the pictures for a third or fourth time, I'm starting to think I might just try my hand at this little hike once more.

And since my fatigued muscles are no longer here to remind me of the challenge, I might be convinced...

Music and dancing and parties galore!!!The Harlem Gospel Choir in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
Why isn't the lady behind me enjoying the show??
Suzanne, Patricia, and me at the triple the fun birthday party. Phew, it's been a busy week and a half. I might need a holiday to rest up from all the playin around...more pics of last night's show to come.

Who would give me flowers this beautiful? And Why???
They are a "thank you" from EARJ S.O.S. (Service Oriented Students) club for my delivery of a speech during the kick off to the Cancer Walk-a-Thon to take place March 22.
Here's my speech in print (like most speeches, always better when delivered):
They asked me to speak today because I walk.
I walk because I am no stranger to the cancer monster. I think only a few of us remain strangers to this illness that reportedly impacts over 12 million new cases annually. In 2007 alone, 7.6 million cancer deaths occurred worldwide. (about 20,000 cancer deaths a day) How does a person begin to fathom statistics of this size?
It has to be made personal.
My mother is a survivor, currently undergoing chemotherapy again, battling for the third time in the last 19 years. She has managed to find resilience in her Faith and lives knowing that each day is truly a gift.
My father is a survivor, currently outliving the predicted survival rate for his type of cancer. He is living as one of the 15% predicted to survive gastral and esophageal cancer.
My maternal grandmother was a survivor. She lived with a mastectomy half her adult life, before the research identified the benefits of reconstruction for breast cancer survivors.
My paternal grandfather was a survivor.
I lost Brian, my 16 year old cousin, to this illness.
Four months ago, October 2008, I lost Jason, my 38 year old cousin.
My family tree is riddled with this ugly illness, running through its branches. It is insufficient to simply be "tired of it".
One would think traveling the road once would make it easier a second time, or a third time, or a fourth time, but it doesn't it only makes me more angry. One would think having so many firsthand experiences would help the grieving process the next time around. It doesn't. It is horrible and hard and feels unfair every time. And every time I am left with the feeling that there is very little that I can do to alleviate the pain my loved ones experience. There is very little I can do to avoid living my life in waiting: for the results of a medical exam, for the next diagnosis in my family. For me it isn’t a matter of “if” it is a matter of “who is next”. And now I worry most about my daughter, my nieces, and nephew, the next generation of my family.
Because I know fighting this illness changes a person. Watching a loved one fight this illness changes a person. Once a person is diagnosed, everything is different. And most of the time for most people, things being different is not ok.
It is just different, and we all have to find a way to survive.
So, what can we do?
We do what I’ve been doing since 1995.
We walk.
We walk because we believe. We walk because others can’t. We walk for our mothers and our fathers and our sisters and our brothers. For our friends and our colleagues we walk.
We walk and we shoulder the courage to continue to fight to change the statistic that claims this disease will personally affect 75% of the women sitting in this auditorium by the time she turns 60.
We walk to preserve the quality of life for a cancer survivor.
We walk because we need to continue to find the answers to questions about treatments and prevention and survival and one day elimination of a disease that is far too common. We walk for ourselves when there is nothing tangible left for us to do.
We walk in honor of the survivors we know. We walk in memory of the loved ones we’ve lost. We walk.
hoping that in 25 years our children and their children won’t have to.

Gracas a Deus!The world is a beautiful place and I am truly blessed!

Carnaval and ClimbsVicks: Sara, when you asked if I wanted to hike while in Rio, you didn't specify that I would be tied to a safety harness and using a rope!
But this one view of many is my reward for the spent energy!! Beautiful!! We are all very tired and very excited that we accomplished climbing a mountain! Nearly 1,000 feet!!Rio de Janeiro at dusk. Copacabana on the left edge, Botafogo Marina on the right, Cocovado on the horizon. Incredible!!

Ian, Meg, me Vicks and Kirsten before heading to Sambodromo!!!

Me and Vicks dressed up and ready to desfilar...man those costumes were HOT!!

Carnaval esta Chegandooooo!!!!!

Bikinis and Congas
So as of Sunday, the total number of bikinis occupying my closet is 9! And the conga, a must have with each bikini (you can't imagine the limitless possibilities with this piece of fabric! It's ingenious.), is up to 10! I'm starting to believe this may be a borderline obsession. I didn't even attempt to add up the number of Havaianas in the other closet, which also are a must have with each bikini. I was too shocked when I actually saw ALL of the bikinis and congas together in one space at the same time. I could totally open a secondhand bikini shop. Would you buy a 'used' bikini? hmmm, good question. Not so sure I would.
This all started me thinking...maybe it's a reflection of my environment (ya think?). When I lived in Houston, did I overbuy any certain item? Let's think.
Did I have 9 cowboy hats? Uh, no.
Did I have 10 pairs of cowboy boots? Uh, no.
Maybe I had 9 horses...ok ok, so there is more to Texas than cowboys and cowboy gear.
How about when I lived in Minnesota?
Did I have 9 pairs of snow pants? Uh, no.
Did I have 10 scarfs? Uh, wait...I think we might be on to something.
How about 10 different cozy winter hats? Indeed! I believe I had at LEAST 10 at one point. (I liked hats a lot for several years.)
So for now, the current environment is forcing me to overbuy bikinis and more or less, beach wear.
let's face it. A girl does need at least two bikinis. If you venture to the beach two days in a row, which I often do, it is likely that the bikini worn the first day is still damp the morning of the second day. We all know the unpleasantness of attempting to wear a still wet bikini. However, I'm pretty sure that by the third day in a row on the beach, which I often have, that first bikini is good and dry. It could be worn again...
Well, here's my proof:I think I may need to seek professional help on this one. It just seems a little excessive. I'm going to work on repairing this situation. I will not buy another bikini the ENTIRE month of February! (I know, big sacrifice.)
I am curious though. Is there anything in your closet, in ridiculous numbers, that you know deep down you don't really NEED yet you continue to buy just ONE more of?

The modified pub crawl: The Quiosque Qurawl....Here's Meg at our first stop overlooking the path we are embarking on...praias Leblon and Ipanema.
Nancy, me and Brad near a quiosque somewhere along praia leblon.
Us girls after a trek to the water to...cool off.

The intent was to go through Leblon and Ipanema, ending at Apoarador to watch the sunset. We made it almost through Leblon. Operating with little to no agenda, enjoying each other's company and not keeping a schedule. It was a beautiful sunny day in Rio with good friends. Now we have a reason to schedule Quiosque Qurawl Parte Dois!

The blazing sunset ended our travels, the rain poured in, we returned home to eat, shower, rest and plan "parte dois".

Recipe for holiday



The Brazilian Caipirinha

1 lime
2 ounces of cachaça
Sugar to taste
Ice cubes
Wash the lime and roll it on the board to loosen the juices. Cut the lime into pieces and place them in a glass. Sprinkle with the sugar and crush the pieces (pulp side up) with a pestle. Just enough to release the juice, otherwise it'll get bitter. Add the cachaça and stir to mix. Add the ice and stir again. It is delicious and potent!

If you can't find cachaça where you live, use a good vodka. The drink will then be called caipiroshka. No vodka? Use white rum and you will have a caipiríssima.

You can also try the Brazilian fruit called lima-da-Pérsia, strawberries, kiwi, fresh passion fruit with mint, passion fruit with pitanga, watermelon, grapes, you name it, instead of lime.