Being Satisfied...or not
Feeling the need to write it all down. To remember how thankful I am for so many loving people and incredible opportunities in my life. Write it all down in order to preserve what might be lost to the daily regiment that we often find ourselves in. This idea of being satisfied continues to resurface in my mind. My thoughts are often trickling back to this notion of "enough". What is enough? A roof over one's head. Enough food to be healthy? The means for a daily laugh, intellectual stimulation? or a big house and a fancy car, countless friends and a full social calender?
I would guess as in all things, enough too is a matter of perspective and unless one sees another's perspective the measurement of enough will never be equal. I have had more than enough in many ways at many times throughout my life. Thank God. Yet, at times I have sunk to the thoughts involving: I Want More. Why is that?
I am facing a crossroads in my life. A major decision. Sure I've been at this sort of impasse before, but somehow this time it feels like it isn't as much about me as it was 15 or 10 years ago. This time it seems that no matter what decision I make, somehow someone will not be happy, including me. How does one begin to even think about what to do? When there is no one right answer but 100 possible right answers. I guess I could stop fretting and look at that as a blessing since many people don't even have 1 right answer to choose at times in life.
Here's the deal: I have to leave EARJ after this year. I will have fulfilled the 5 years alotted as an expat teacher with the school. I cannot continue directly. I have the option, after a minimum of 6 months, of reapplying and returning, pending vacancy, to the school. But I cannot continue as is after June 2011.
What do I do?
I am happier and halthier in Brasil than I have ever been in my lifetime. I guess I sorta saw that coming when we moved here in 2006, but I had no idea it would be this influential. I knew then what I know now about how much this country feels like where I belong, but I had no idea it would get into my soul the way it has.
Do I stay? Pound the pavement. Push my professional life in another direction? Feed creative energies and return to writing? Publish the book I've always wanted to publish? Do I seek another international post? There are a lot of places in the world. A lot of great schools around the globe looking for educators. Living in another country would be a worthy experience for my daughter. It would be a financially comfortable life. It would be stimulating. It would be challenging.
What do you do when you don't have control? Or you don't feel like you have control? When you can't see the answers to the questions that are floating around in your head. When you would like to know the future. When you are forced to make a change that you don't necessarily want to make? The truth is that the options are limitless. That's what makes it so hard. There are too many options and I have no guarantee what the outcome of any one of the options will be.
I want to be 5 again. I want to hear: You can have the grape popsicle or the orange popsicle. You pick. I want the choice to be that easy.
But it's not...

Riding a Bicycle
Writing is kinda like riding a bicycle. Ok, not really. Maybe it's more like driving a car. It's something you learn through concentrated, deliberate, hopefully well guided practice before you can consider yourself versed in the task. I used to be a writer. But I haven't been practicing. And now being out of practice makes me envy all those beautiful things I read for the talent portrayed in the work.
I just spent 30 minutes reading other people's blogs (there are some beautiful things written on some of these blogs. Some real talent that would sell if transformed into print). At least they are people I know. It's not like I was surfing random blogs. It left me with this feeling of loss, emptiness...I used to do that. I used to be good at that. I'm not feeling very good at it anymore. Why not? Because I don't do it anymore, and I'm fighting this language war inside my head almost 24 hours a day. Thinking in English, speaking in Portuguese, dreaming in English, retelling the dream in Portuguese, working in English, socializing in Portuguese. It's like having two little armies between my ears battling it out for ownership of the podium. Once in awhile Captain Port. wins the battle and both the thoughts and the words end up in his mother's tongue. Most of the time, it's a clustered, confused combination of two languages and some garble.
In the end, this language acquisition experience of the past 4 years has left me feeling slightly less intelligent and hugely less verbose. I used to be characterized as verbose. Ask me where something is and I'll explain to you how it was built and arrived at its current state. Not anymore. Hey, Sara, where's the extra garrafa of agua (see the mixture of language there). My answer would be: in the cozinha. Some days I feel ill-prepared to formulate even one complete sentence.
I'm a writing teacher. And a pretty good one if I do say so myself. My students generally improve their writing skills by 3-4 years as a result of having my class. How can I be so good at telling other people what to do, but so bad at doing it myself? Practice, or lack there of. I know what it takes to be a good writer. I know training and determination makes you a better writer, but I don't have anyone hanging the "A" over my head for producing the next great blog post. So, I don't practice and I don't train. But I sure know how to tell my students they need more organization. Maybe that means it is more about the pressure and needing external stimulation...hmmm, that sounds like a totally different topic and perhaps one that would be appropriately discussed with my shrink (if I had one, which I don't but am now considering hiring).
Why isn't riding a bike the same as writing? You can learn to ride when you're 5 years old, ride like the wind until your 15 and start driving and not get on a single bicycle again for 20 years, but still ride like the wind without a moment hesitation when you do. Is it the pure motor memory that kicks in and leaves out any real need for intelligence? I don't know. Hopefully driving a car is the same because I just bought one and get to pick it up in 3 days. Let's hope I remember how to do that.

Rio Under Water

Last Monday, April 5, the rains commenced around 6:30 p.m. The winds were similar to Hurricane/Tropical Storm winds I experienced while living in Houston. The rain didn't let up for a solid 24 hours. Even after the first 24 hours, it continued to rain only with less force most of the time. The amount of rain that fell in that first 24 hours is said to be equivalant to 347 olympic sized swimming pools. I'm not sure any city could handle that much water. The city streets filled quickly. Motorists were stranded through the night. Thousands went without electricity for up to 4 days. Niteroi, a suburb of Rio and once the capital city of Brazil, seems to have suffered the highest number of casualties. A major landslide Thursday morning after the rains seemingly were on their way out, buried some 200 people and destroyed houses, stores, a school and a church.

Thousands of Cariocas are left homeless.

This is the view of the hill and Rocinha from my verandah. The path down the right side of the picture used to be full of trees--and houses. This demonstrates the landslides last week in Rio on a very small scale.

Here's a closer version of the same picture. EARJ is right at the end of the "slide".

The aftermath of this flooding is pretty complicated. I have taken to buying the daily paper in part because it amazes me how the politicians continue to point the finger at the predecessor. The areas of high fatality are almost entirely poor areas, slums/favelas, in the city. In most cases, people are there due to 'squatter's rights', and the city officials who oversee the areas haven't done their part to uphold the zoning laws. Yesterday's newspaper reported that the governor intends to move all residents from 8 of the city's favelas. This means relocated somewhere around 1 million people!

My student's family lived at the end of the landslide pictured above. Their house was within ordinance. Their house was legal. However, there were several illegal houses above theirs on the mountain side; and when the trees and foliage gave way to the rain, it swept the illegally built houses with it. The retaining wall behind my student's house wasn't strong enough to withstand the forest AND the tumbling homes. The result: their house is destroyed.

I spoke to the mother of this family yesterday afternoon. Sadly, the city will pay to construct a new retaining wall, but all repairs to their house are the family's responsibility. It's really sad; as had the city not permitted the homes above to be build, the retaining wall would have withstood the impact of the forest and their house would have been fine.

It will be interesting, to say the least, to see how this unfolds in the coming months. One thing I have learned in my four years living in Rio de Janeiro: many laws exist, but for every law there are at least 2 ways around it.

A much needed update...

Just too lazy to keep up with the blog. Here is what we've been up to since Carnaval.

A barbeque and sing-a-long with friends...

A beautiful daughter turning into a teenager (Lord help me get through the next 8 years)...

Beautiful sunset in Macae with Francesca and Sophie...

Appreciating the full moon over the Lagoa from my verandah...

Simple things in life can keep you going.

p.s. the ear is back to normal. Dr. treated me for an inner ear infection despite the absence of vertigo or fever. All clear and hearing normally again. Thank God!!

Life goes on and the sounds of silence...

December through February is a whirlwind of holiday. Our school calender gives us 6 weeks off over Christmas and through January. Then in February the city shuts down to take in the madness of Carnaval and welcome the Lenten season. I think the overindulgence of Carnaval is all preparation for the abstinence of Lent.
This period of time 2010 was one of alegria and felicidade. LaShunda spent 3 weeks with us over Dec/Jan and Vicks returned for her second Carnaval in Rio during Feb. It was tour guide Sara 24 hours a day, and I loved every minute of it. (hence not having a lot of time for updating this blog)
We have been back to school full-time (meaning having class 5 days a week) since late February now, and I have to say getting into the groove is easier said than done when you are used to living life in anticipation of the next day off.
But that's ok. The demand to "get to work" inspires the congnitive juices, and I'm feeling fired up about all that has to still be accomplished with my 63 eighth graders between now and June 15. We have much to do. I am excited.
Through all of this, I have been battling a very persistent sinus infection/congestion issue. Beginning last November, after returning from a week long trip with those same 63 eighth graders needing a lot of class time, I have been coughing and/or blowing my nose nonstop. Morning greets me with a minimum of 20 minutes hacking up the crud that settled in my chest and face during the night. I have been to my GP 3 times, completed a 10 day antibiotic regime, lived on Tylenol sinus around the clock for almost 2 weeks, and overdosed on vitamin C in the form of acerola juice and supplemental tablets. Only to find temporary relief.
At the same time, I have intermittendly experienced strange sensations and blockages in my left ear. The first time, my ear closed completely, leaving me listening to others in a strange, bent neck, head turned to the left to accentuate my right, working ear position. Used the anti-inflamatory ear drops prescribed by my GP and experienced success when the ear finally reopened. Let me just say, speaking a second language and understanding what others are communicating through only one ear is no easy task.
I thought I was all clear and on the mend, as my ear reopened, I was still coughing and suffering the occasional sinus pressure. That's when the Tylenol sinus came into the game. Tylenol sinus accompanied me through Carnaval this year. I wouldn't have been able to survive without it, but I have to believe it's just not good for the body to take it every 6 hours for 15 days.
In the midst of this phase, that pesky left ear started acting up again. This time, it didn't close completely, but began contorting the sounds which entered the ear. It's like having a HAM radio in your head but not exactly programmed to the correct frequency. A week of this and PHEW! it passed. Life went on...
Until a week ago Thursday, when the sounds in my left ear returned to their strange ways. This time, I decided it was appropriate to call the dr. again. "Sara, I think it's time you see a specialist." A referral to an ENT, a consultation, a battery of hearing tests, and the results: I have hearing loss in my left ear! WHAT?? (literally)
It seems I have lost all the base sounds in my left ear. Do you realize the ramifications of this? Set your stereo controls to eliminate base and push all the treble to the max but make set the dial to 95.4 when the station is really 95.3. That is what I am hearing. It requires so much additional brain energy to process the sounds. It's maddening. It's uncomfortable. It's a little scary. The base and baritones are all the beautiful, delicious, chocolatey smooth sounds you get lost in and wrap around yourself. They are the pleasures of music and comforting voices, and they are gone from my left side.
So I look to the "specialist" Dr. Jair and say, "Ok, I did my part on the exam. Now you do your part and tell me why."
"Well, I don't know Sara."
Great, that is not the answer I wanted to hear. He had already gotten the sneak peek inside my ears using his super magnified ear looker thing. Couldn't he see?? He's the SPECIALIST afterall. The expert whose hands I am putting my faith and hearing in right now.
"That is why I want you to have this exam."
"What exam?"
"I am sending you to the lab to have a catscan of your HEAD!"
Gulp, nodding of head, "O K"
"This will show us exactly what is going on, and then we will be able to move forward with treatment."
This will show us exactly what is going on? What are you looking for? People don't have catscans of their heads to determine something with their ears! Do they? REally?
He continued, "no medicines or treatment until we know the results."
Great, well, really not as big of a deal as it sounds since anything I had previously tried or was currently taking wasn't making any difference in the functioning of my ear anyway.
So I had the exam Thursday, and I wait until Tuesday for the results and Wednesday to talk to the dr. again for answers and in the meantime,
I teach 8th GRADERS!! I work in a SCHOOL. The sounds coming into my left ear are only the high pitched registers. These are pre-pubescent boys and girls. Think about the register of their voices. Think about the register of 20 of their voices at the SAME TIME! Brutal torture. If I supported war, I would call the US Dept of Defense today to recommend this new form of torture for POWs. Seriously...at times I want to scream. At times I want to cry. Most of the time I just want SILENCE.
Mostly in my period of waiting, I continue to think about the what ifs.
But I work hard to push those thoughts away since there really isn't anything productive in that. My biggest concern and what is occupying many of my thoughts is WHAT IF it's permanent because so many things would have to be different.
Until Wednesday, I'm capturing silence.

Over the Shoulder Boulder Holder
Brazierre
Tit Sling
Bra
Can you think of any other names you have heard used for the undergarment worn by women?
It is one word in Portuguese that I routinely forget. I ALWAYS remember Cueca (men's underwear). I never forget Calcinha (panties). But I can never remember sutia (bra).
I actually had to look it up right now on an online translation site. It's ridiculous. I wear one. Nearly every day, at least when I'm not in a bikini or sleeping...okay too much information.
Well today I had to have a chest x-ray to make sure what has been diagnosed as sinusitis is in fact that and not an upper respiratory thing. Going to the dr in Portuguese is always a challenge. My brain almost immediately goes into "DUH" mode. I think it is because I am overly nervous that I will not understand what is said. I think I'm afraid they're going to say, "Sara, you have a growth the size of a basketball in your bum." And I'm going to look at them, smile and say, "Tudo bem." (ok)
So the technician calls me back to the x-ray room this morning. We greet each other, and he asks, "Voce esta com sutia?"
I stare blankly in return.
He repeats, "Voce esta com sutia?"
I stare for about 15 solid seconds and say, "Eu nao entende."
He repeats, this time a little louder and slower, "Voce esta usando sutia hoje?" Only this time he added a very discreet gesture in the direction of my chest.
AHHH, the light goes off bling bling...
"Sim, to usando. Claro." Like of course I'm wearing a bra, duh!
Had I not been preoccupied with the basketball sized tumor, I probably would have used common sense to know that you can't have an underwire bra on while taking a chest x-ray and I would have understood him the first time he asked.
I think after today, I'll remember sutia is bra in portuguese.

Onde as montanhas entram o mar!!
My little lady in a random window in Parati! So cute!!

The first night we were without electricity due to the tropical rain storm that hit late afternoon. We became quite the pioneers. I felt just like Laura Engles.

We woke early January 12 to catch an 8 a.m. bus to my favorite place in all of Brazil: Trindade. Just outside of Parati. This is truly a little slice of heaven on earth. The mountains literally run into the sea. I knew it was going to be a great trip when I looked out my bedroom window and was greeted by this incredible sunrise.

During our 3 days, we enjoyed swimming in calm(er) waters, hiking an amazing trail to a waterfall through a national forest, escaping a downpour, running through a blazing thunderstorm, reading by candlelight, sleeping in mosquito hell, looking out at the ocean from an unblocked vantage point, laughing at silly mistakes in language, meeting new friends, wandering the streets of Parati at night, and much needed relaxation.

Beach days with friends and summer sunsets...