One Afternoon in Arproador

View from the top of the rock in Arproador

Some kids catching some waves

"ARTE DE VIVER" sponsored a group meditation session

Umm...

Bliss

Turf War Rio de Janeiro

In Rio de Janeiro there is a huge gap in wealth and social stratification. Beautiful high-rise buildings overlook spiraling slums creeping up hills. A city where the poor deal with the corruption of drug lords in your neighborhoods as their governing body, and the rich deal with the same corruption of drug lords on a less blatant platform, but that deals with a greater sum of money.

Over the past few years the police of Rio de Janeiro have been slowly taking over the "drug lord's" turf in the slum (favelas) and permanently reclaiming the land and power as Brazil's. The series of operations have not been peaceful or been done without some type of retaliation from the escaping drug traffickers.

Last week, due the up and coming Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro, the police invaded  the favelas of Pena in the north zone which sparked a wave of crime and retaliation throughout the city: buses and cars burned, people robbed, stray bullets near the slums of the invasion, drive by shooting aimed for police posts, stores closing early, classes cancelled, and terror in general spread. Now as I type the police have secured Complexo do Alemao. Now waves the flags of Rio de Janeiro and Brazil at the top of the conquered hill.

Let's all hope that there are no more innocent people killed or wounded by this all out war between authority and anarchy. Which leads me to the question: why did the government let it get to this point? Also, knowing that drugs kill people, innocent people and ruin the lives of loved ones, why do people (rich & poor)  continue to use and create a demand for these illicit crimes. Stepping onto my soapbox--people, love your neighbor and do good to each other. Treat those how you would want to be treated.

I'll leave you with a quote by Ganhdi, "You have to be the change that you want to see in the world." Please don't create a market for blood shed.



The Gayest Day of the Year in Rio de Janeiro

So, every Sunday I take my weekly walk on the beach in Copacabana, nothing usual. I stroll down Ave. Atlantica dodging little poodles and kids motoring around in miniature cars and bicycles; however, two Sundays ago I was met at the beach with "Ra ra u-la la, Ra ra u-la la, Ga ga..." blaring over (what's typically used during Caraval blocos) these monsterous sound trailers with people dancing atop in tight white jeans shirtless and men in drag. Normally, I see old men walking along with their saggy sungas (Brazilian version of a Speedo), but today that was replaced by young guys walking around with angle wings on their backs. This meant only one thing, the excessive dance music, topless men with sparkles, drag queens, butch women, and a rainbow of colors, it was only the GAYEST day of the year in Rio de Janeiro-Gay Pride, my friends!

Last year my friend (super cute gay guy) dragged me to the parade where I was shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of sweaty topless guys. Surprisingly enough, only men hit on me there. I was a little taken back by this, as it was a "gay pride" parade. Fortunately, my friend posed as my boyfriend the entire way repelling off the hordes of hormonal conquistadores. The girls that saw me gave me one look and ran the other direction. One even looked at me and turned to her friend and said "She's straight!" right in my face.

That leads me to a digression- how does one look straight? From all I could tell at the parade in Rio (I know some people aren't gonna like this, but oh well, here it goes anyway) a straight girl looks normal, by normal I mean isn't butched out, while a gay guy is harder to tell. All of the women I saw were wearing sports braws, cut off jean shorts, and many with ball caps demostrating their muffin top bellies. Call me traditional, but that's not sexy at all! If a woman were to like another woman, why would she go for one that looks like a guy? Why not just have a boyfriend? It's socially acceptable and easier. The men there were gorgeous for the most part, some outrageously flamboyant, but at least with nice bodies.

This year instead of being in the middle of the action I opted to be a passive observer from a kiosk a safe distance from the crowd (I'm American- I like my personal space). I would say that the parade this year was very tame in comparison to last year's giantic parade. The most excitement was when a drunk guy and one of the kiosk security guards got into a fist fight 6 feet from my table. All in all it was a very gay day in deed!

Halloween In Rio de Janeiro

It's Halloween in Rio de Janeiro, but not really Halloween, no little kids running around with undersized costumes and make up ringing your doorbell in hopes of getting the good candy, not the cheap hard candy or carmel covered apples--the Snickers or the Baby Ruth's. There are no horror films in the background, nor the smell of pumkin spiced tea.

With this being said, I am still bound to have a good day. I am sitting in my apartment in Rio de Janeiro drinking English breakfast tea out of a mug that reads "I'd Rather Be Drinking Champagne" and watching Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang, at least a little murder to darken my afternoon. I've been in Rio for the past two months trying to finish up my MBA in Management, still have about 4 months to go. Lots of things have happened: 1.) the movie I helped translate English subtitles O Gigante do Papelao has won two best picture awards abroad, 2.) I've started taking classes in Barra, which is about one hour from where I live, 3.) I'm starting to help as a photo assistant periodically, mainly with lighting and keeping an eye on the photographer's equipment, 4.) my Portuguese is getting better, 5.) I'm learning how to dance ballroom forro and samba finally, 5.) I've been practing guitar and piano, learning how to read music--still not very good, 6.) just hanging out and trying to enjoy life.

Coincidentally, Brazil's election for President and State Governors is today on Halloween, so everyone is out compulsorily voting. It's not like in the US where you have the choice to vote, they can vote null, but have to show up at the ballots or have a convincing discuse why they could not vote in the election, like in the hospital or traveling abroad. My opinion, the Lula backed Dilma Rousseffi will become the first woman president of Brazil, not sure if that's a good or bad thing...

Leather Boots Kickin' Around Nebraska

It's interesting how when most people travel they look for the familiar and stick to it--I am the same--currently I am in a small town in Scottsbluff, Nebraska, population about 179,000ish, small. I feel like such a lame hypocrite as I complain about how Wal-Mart is the devil of America, while I ask my front desk attendant where the Starbucks is in town. The familiarity of the soft guitar melodies being strummed with someone quietly accompanying vocally is something that I don't like to lack in my life. She responded that there was no Starbucks--my GPS had lied to me. There had been one and it went out of business. Apparently sitting and sipping on a hot cafe Americano isn't the thing to do in Scottsbluff, NE, I thought.

This land of fast food franchises in America has spread like a malignant disease--as I drive down the main food drive, 27th St.; I am thinking to myself, how do they eat this shit every day? Apparently they don't love food here, but their waists don't reflect that much. For lunch I made my way to Taco del Oro--a little locally owned taco shop--and ordered a soft taco that my very Anglo-Saxon mom could've made with much ease, but what made me happy was that it was a local joint doing such a great business. So many times in these little towns the major franchises take precedence over the locally owned businesses--where typically the ingredients are fresher and much better for you. This forunately got my spirits up a little higher than they were previously. I'm not sure about anyone else out there, but I judge a place always by the food, music, and its people--the same goes for restaurants. You can tell a lot about a person by what they eat, the type of things they put into their bodies and where they frequent. I digress.

Getting back to the point, the familiarity of a cafe provides the comfort and type of atsmosphere that makes me feel pleased in any location throughout the world. It's interesting how I am sitting in Scottsbluff writing this post and by the looks of this place I could be anywhere in the world. I should be trying out the steak houses, but I am drawn to familiarity, what I like. 

By the way, I did find an incredible restaurant called "Paradise" that reads from the road "Paradise Tanning, Carwash, German, Cocktail, Diner"--amazing right! Marketing completely confusing when you drive by, but I was bound and determined to find good food here and did. So basically, I could go tanning, wash my car, eat a good meal and then have a cocktail all in one place, astonishing!

Inspiration

LINCOLN, Nebraska--I'm on the road again... Last night, I went to see "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" by Stieg Larsson and got inspired to finish my book. I love the way he wrote without worrying if the public would find the explicit sex scenes too much to digest. It's been about a month since I last touched my attempted book; however, the last scene I had finished writing before writer's block ensued was a very explicit sex scene in the bathroom of a restaurant. I had toyed with the idea of taking it out, thinking that it was too heavy for the book, but after seeing "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" and starting the second book of the trilogy, "The Girl Who Played With Fire," I decided to leave it happily. =)

From Buenos Aires to Rio de Janeiro to Kansas City

I'm back home, in Kansas City, for the summer to work and to spend a little time with my family before heading back to Brazil to finish up my degree. It's difficult to be home after having such an incredible journey in Brazil and Argentina without missing my life in South America and my lifestyle while living there. I realized I was really back in the States when I went to Mimi's Cafe and tried to order freshly squeezed orange juice to no avail. Apparently the "freshly squeezed" orange juice there was from a box. Hum... However, on a very positive note, my shower has just the right pressure and temperature, not sculding hot and then freezing cold leaving only 5 secs to tactfully catch the perfect temperature for a shower. It's nice to see my family and eat my mom's homemade lasagna again.

Buenos Aires two weeks before coming home was delightful and merits its own post. So, I will wait to give the details of my trip for a later time.

A funny story that happened right as I was leaving for Buenos Aires at the airport. The customs officer noticed that I hadn't registered my student visa with the federal police in Brazil. Of course, I was completely surprised and confused because I didn't know that I had to do that, as I am the only foreigner in my program and my coordinator hadn't mentioned it. With luck, he let me pass and I spent my entire trip in Argentina worried about getting back into the country. I thought I would turn into Tom Hanks and live in the airport for a week until I sorted out my visa. When I got to the airport again to enter Brazil, I walked up to the customs officer with the biggest smile on my face and hoping to God that she wouldn't say anything about my visa not being registered. She fiddled with my passport for a few minutes and couldn't find my information in the system. Then asked me if it was my first student visa, to which I responded, "no, I also studied at PUC." That pleased her, and she stamped my passport and told me to have a good night, not really finding my visa in the system or caring to bother with it since this was my second visa. Yeah! I entered with no problem ready to go the the federal police to pay the maxium fine of r$800 for not registering my visa within 30 days of entering the country that next day.

The next day at the federal police, of course at the airport really far from my apartment, I had the pleasure of running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get everything sorted out. The first lady that "helped" me didn't want to even give me the time of day. When I arrived after waiting in line for two hours, she said, "You have nothing done," handed me list and walked away with me still sitting at her desk for lunch. Great customer service. Fortunately, there was a really nice attendant next to her and she helped me out with everything that I needed to do in order to register my visa. Long-story-short, two days of the federal police and a mountain of paperwork later, I didn't have to pay the r$800 because when I entered the country in September, no one had stamped my passport, so they couldn't legally make me pay a fine when my date of entrance was just 2 days old from my Argentina trip. I'm sooooo happy I went to Argentina and that I didn't have to pay that ridiculous fine. Thank you customs officer that forgot to stamp my passport!

Em fim, estou com saudades do Brasil!

Buenos Aires, Here I Come!

Today is a glorious day.  I went to the travel agency and finalized my trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina. This is a dream come true for me. While at university I studied Spanish and Japanese in tandem and got the opportunity to visit Japan, but never to visit a Spanish speaking country. Let me make myself clear, an offical Spanish speaking country, as everywhere in the US now is bilingual for Spanish speakers. Not only is Argentina a Spanish speaking country, it is the Paris of South America without the expense of the Euro--fabulous!

Now, the task at hand is the come up with a plan of what spots to visit and what foods to try. I usually judge a country and culture by its food, music, and people, so I am guessing that Argentina will be a new love of mine. The next task will be: remembering Spanish. Yes, I live in Brazil. No, they don't speak Spanish here--it's Portuguese, just for clarification purposes. You're welcome all Brazilians that are tired to death of explaining that the official language of Brazil is Portuguese, not Spanish. With that being said, Spanish and Portuguese are very similar and if you speak one of them, it will be easier for you to learn the other: Latin roots. My Spanish used to be decent, but now after living in Brazil for so long, I have acquired a Brazilian accent when I attempt to speak Spanish. This should be interesting for all parties involved, as I will be mixing Portuguese and Spanish unwittly. Da licenca, eu me gustaria comprar isto!  I can only imagine...

I've even purchased a tango show at Senor Tango! So incredibly excited. I took free tango classes at uni taught by one of the Spanish teachers and came to the conclusion that I am a horrible ballroom dancer for the following reason: I hate to be led. I'll fight it every time. This intuition makes me the worst tango partner in the world; however, I love watching it. It is so passionate and sexy, I can't get enough. Argentina, here I come!

If anyone has any suggestions, please leave a comment... :)

Sex Shop Survey

As many know, I am in Brazil doing my MBA and part of my MBA is a final project. The project is: a viable business plan that includes all aspects of our chosen business in vivid detail. We had many ideas bouncing around the table from, an after-hours hair salon, pet daycare, indoor snowboarding, a gay bar, and many more out-of-the-box business ideas; however, the victor for my group was, drum roll please......... an ONLINE SEX SHOP!

Yes, that was our selection. In all of our research, we couldn't find a decent Brazilian online sex shop that wasn't completely tacky or a pain to navagate. We are purposing an online sex shop that is easily navigable, visually inviting, competatively priced (for the Brazilian market), auxiliary services, quality products, and paradimigmatic customer service. To impart this, we had to spend one Saturday visiting local sex shops in the area and interviewing the owners and workers to find out the nitty gritty about our new endeavour. What we concluded was: An online sex shop is a lucrative opportunity in the industry of sex--sex sells!

My group is still in the early stages of the project and we need your help to fill out a consumer survey reguarding erotic purchases and online buying habits. Please, if you speak Portuguese take this survey and give us your feedback or suggestions for this venture. The link is: SEX SHOP SURVEY.  The survey is completely anonymous and will take only two minutes of your day.

Thanks for the support and yes, I am in the pic above. The little read shorts are quite flattering on my, right?! Just joking! I'm in the pink and white. Off to Corporate Finance class!

Oh Japan, I miss you!

I keep running into Japanese people here in Rio--which should be no surprise since Brazil has the largest Japanese immigrant population outside of Japan itself. The largest cluster is in Sao Paulo and the state of Parana, but there are still some in Rio de Janeiro also. According to Wikipedia, there are over 1.5 million Japanese decent Brazilians  living in Brazil. A century ago the Japanese and Brazilian governments signed a treaty enabling Japanese to migrate to Brazil and occupy coffee plantation jobs. I find it incredibly interesting how the Japanese have assimilated into Brazilian society so well, because the cultures couldn't be anymore different.

For about five years of my life Japan was one of the most influencial countries in my life. My family hosted three Japanese exchange students, I studied Japanese at university and got an Asian Studies minor, visited my foreign exchange sisters in Kyoto, Tokyo, and Okinawa one summer, and went on to studying in Japan for one memorable semester in Osaka. But as life happens, I have lost touch in Japanese culture. Many of my friends in the past were Japanese, but over time people get busy and form new lives and connections. I started studying Portuguese and moved to Brazil to do an exchange program at PUC Rio, after that began working for the government, then now I'm back in Brazil doing my MBA, the inevitable changes of life. But with new life, you can't forget your past and the fabulous experiences you had. The moral to this rambling is: I have started studying Japanese again and realized that I really miss Japanese culture and that I am a hybrid. I am an American that has spent over a decade influenced by cultures outside of my own heavily and that makes me a hybrid that cannot only survive with one culture, one set of beliefs, and one culture of customs. This is impossible for anyone that has lived interculturally for long enough, we become culturally confused, but it's a good confusion.

Today I am a guest columnist at the blog: The Art Reference. I decided to write about one of my favorite fashion trends in Japan while I was there, Visual Kei. I remember daily being visually bombarded with crazy outfit pairings of high heals with baggy cut up jeans, a rainbow of colors, mismatched accompaniments, Baby Lolitas, Ganagurus, dread locks, EnRish phrases on T-shirts, and everything in between. When I went back to the United States, I was so bored with the fashion there in comparision to Japanese fashion. If someone reading this post has never been to Japan, I highly, highly recommend visiting.

Please check out my article on Japanese rock's influence on Japanese fashion: Visual Kei.  次回まで...

Do-In

Last Thursday, I went to a Do-In (Traditional Chinese Medicine) workshop at Yoga & Cultura in Ipanema to learn how to align my chakras by accessing them through different pressure points through out my body--a self massage. The instructor was a skinny man in his early fifties that had discovered Do-In in New York while living and working there. According to him, he was very unwell and had gone to the doctor to see what was alling him. The doctors could find nothing wrong with him, and told him they would have to wait for something to manifest itself before they could treat him. He thought this was a ridiculous idea, as his health was still in a moment where he could prevent a serious illness, so he decided to take an alternative approach looking into different types of holistic medicines and practices, where he came across Do-In. He said that the master took one look at him and exclaimed "You are a very sick man!" which ellated him, as no one before could tell him that anything was wrong. From that moment on, he has been practicing Do-In and feeling wonderful, in a nutshell.

He continued flailing his arms about demonstrating the movements like a an interpretive modern dance and talking about Do-In's benefits for an hour and the crowd started stirring a little. At one point, I thought that he might take flight over all of us by the velocity of his arm movements. He might have lived in NYC, but he was definitely a Brazilian at heart. His speech was slightly redundant and we wanted to try this miracle self massage.

Finally, after almost and hour and a half of hearing about Do-In we got to experiment with it ourselves. It was incredible as he talked for an hour about the benefits, one would think he would spend time on the technique, but he flew through most of the practice leaving me still clueless about the principle message that starts at your shoulder, runs down to your fingertips, back up to your shoulder, around your head, down your lateral torso, down the leg, up the leg on the inside, and back up over the head, to repeat the sequence on the other side. He did it like lighting, so I'm not sure if that is even the sequence. One very important pressure point I do remember, however, is almost in the middle of your palm--it is supposed to augment sex drive. Hum...interesting.

The other pressure point I paid particular interest to was for putting yourself to sleep. He said that most sleeping problems are the result of an anxious stomach, so one should calm the stomach to sleep. The pressure point in question is on the first toe next to your big toe, on the bottom outside corner of the toenail, where you are supposed to press with the tip of your nail and hold it securely until you dose off to sleep. I tried this,  legs up in air, pressing and pressing, trying to have the patience for this to take effect, but needless to say, I just turned over and drifted of to sleep about 30 mins later as normal. I won't discount it quite yet, but it didn't work after 10 mins of pressure.  

All in all, it was fun to learn about something new. I am continuing to massage and hit the toxins out of my body daily since. I will end as the instructor ended, "Don't forget to touch yourself daily." There is nothing else I can add to that.

Feeling Old...

Today, I bought a pair of arch support inserts from Dr. Schols.

The Usual, Unusual Day

Just another day in Rio.
I went downtown for an English lesson. Before I got there, I decided to grab something to eat at Mister Sucos, there I was greeted by  a woman holding her child begging patrons for money so her little girl could have something to eat. In all honesty, I only had 5 reals, which I needed to buy me something to eat, since I hadn't eaten yet. I told her that I didn't have enough to buy her daughter something to eat. This is usually the default answer on the streets of Rio though, "No, I don't have it." It's hard because there is always someone asking for money. This isn't a novel sight, a woman and her baby. It's everywhere here. To the point where, I've even seen a little 4 year old with a fanny pack strapped across his front working the streets for his mommy or daddy at 1 o'clock in the morning when he should have been sound asleep in bed. That affected me more than any of the other site, this one really got to me. It's almost like people here are numb to the sight of poverty now. When I first got here, I completely appalled and impressed with the blatant gap in classes, but after living here off and on for almost 4 years now, it doesn't even bother me anymore sometimes. I see the same three guys on the corner of my street everyday. The numbness has encroached over me too because you can't help everyone, and I don't want to contribute to any social problems, such as the drug trade. For that reason, I only give food, never money, usually. Today, I broke that rule and gave the woman my change. This whole social divide is another topic in itself that I'm not even going to touch right now.

Walking back from my lesson, there was a girl in front of me with the cutest dress. It could be dressed up for work or even dressed down for a night out with friends. I immediately wanted to stop the girl and ask where she got it, but then got distracted by the bookstore on my left where I subsequentially turned to check out the art and mystery sections. There where a few interesting books I wanted to buy, like: the new Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza mystery, Graffiti Brasil, and The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (which is not out in theaters yet here in Brazil, boo!). All three books called out to me, but none were bought. Yes, self-discipline won today.

My ride back on the subway merits mentioning.There was a crazy today! Usually, I only see the crazys on the bus and that is rare, but today I had the pleasure of spectating a woman making a lot of passengers very irritated and uncomfortable. The woman seemed to be in her early forties, with the face and body of a crack user, and agility of a drunk, and personality of a comedian. She would stubble along the car pestering the passengers, but at least only jesting. She tried to read the text of one woman leaning against the center pole, then made her way to a middle aged woman wearing a sleeveless dress, where she started rubbing her shoulders and telling her "Bom Dia!" and asking her how her day was going. When the woman wouldn't respond she decided to dance over to someone else. Basically, she moved throughout the entire car greeting and touching everyone. I prayed to God that she wouldn't see my foreign face and want to touch me. I'm a germaphobe and hate others that I don't know touching me, especially one that seems to be drugged up. With all the luck in the world, she chose the woman to my side to chat with instead of me. That was close!  The nice, crazy, touchy lady eventually got off at Siqueira Campos when security boarded.

 Anyway, going back to the cute dress, the girl in the cute dress got off at the General Osorio Metro stop with me and even headed in the direction of Copabana, where I was going. It was the perfect opportunity to ask her where she had found that glorious dress. Then I started thinking that it might be weird for me to ask her where she had bought her dress--she might think that I was trying to pick her up. Gosh, that would be horrific! So, I waited for one more karmic sign "yes" or "no" to ask her about the dress. Right as I was about to pass her, she answered her phone, SO I still have no idea where the dress came from. Should have just asked when I had the chance.  Lesson to self, don't be so shy!

Matisyahu Show

Saturday night Matisyahu (a Jewish Orthodox singer/ beatboxer/ composer) was in Rio performing at Circo Voador, so of course I took the opportunity to see him again live. I had already seen him once in Kansas City last summer, but his set was super short because it was Friday night and he had to quit before the sunset for religious reasons. Kinda sucky because he's so great live, but Saturday night he played forever! It was so fabulous and transcendent his melodic voice and the heavy dub bass lines. It's interesting because he doesn't say much, but his stage presence is captivating and when he does finally say something, everyone listens. He played most of my favorite songs: Exhaultation, One Day, Jerusalem, and Chop Em Down. Unfortunately, no Warrior, but it was still a wonderful show. Each song had a momentary jam out session in the middle where he would get into an almost trance for a moment and then break out into dance skipping around the entire stage. There was one part in the beginning where it looked like he was having some sort of tantric moment while he was, what looked to be, chanting--a spiritual orgasm on stage.

Before the show, they showcased a documentary called Dub Echoes about the creation of dub in Jamaica and its influence in the world of music. It was very fascinating to see how much dub (or rather, a rich bass line, where the bass is the main melodic emphasis) has influenced punk, rock, r&b, really all types of music. Dub is a strong musical statement that can be hypnotic and moves the body, literally. It's long sound waves penetrate your heart and make it bounce. As Bob Marley said, "...music, when it hits, you feel no pain."

Saturday Afternoon

Feira de Antiquidades/ Antique Fair

This Saturday afternoon was delightful. I decided to check out a neighborhood Antique Fair at Shopping Cassino Atlantico in Copacabana. I was there with all of the senior citizens of Copacabana checking out the antiques, listening to live violin music from the third floor, filling my belly with German food, and reading Merde! Um Ano em Paris while sipping on espresso.   

Producao Alema by Dyva Lucia Decker. She is the cook of all things German from Santa Catarina, Brazil. Every Saturday on the bottom floor you can find her serving delicious German delights. Cachorro quente R$7,00 or a German Plate (my choice) R$12,00. I give it two thumbs up!

Beautiful antiques everywhere lining the parameter of the shopping center selling all antiques ranging from salt and pepper shakers, antique furniture, dresses, and swords to cute little tea cups. The permanent shops, open all week, consist of galleries of art, antiques, and fine Brazilian stones (for the tourists).

In the center of the shopping center there is a cafe with a grand piano, that gets played daily by anyone that is willing to show off their skills for the adoring crowd. You can order speciality drinks and sit with friends listening to live piano music or just read a book by the lamp's light.

If you can't think of anything to do on a Saturday afternoon, I highly recommend visiting the Antique Fair at least once if that's your cup of tea. Pun intended.

SOS Rio- Flooding in Rio de Janeiro

Today the beach is slightly trecherous for those that want to take a dip. Yesterday, there was a wave in the Zona Sul area a little bit taller than 5 meters recorded. These monsterous waves are the result of a cold front mixed with high and low pressures that brought massive downpours of rain that invaded Rio de Janeiro Tuesday, April 6, 2010, leaving many without homes, some commuters in traffic all nigth, and over 200 deaths due to mainly mudslides in the poorer areas of the city. A complete tragedy for many Cariocas. Many have lost everything that they owned and also loved ones.The city is still trying to recuperate, but still finding more and more bodies in the fallen earth.

Tonight I plan on checking out Matisyahu at Circo Voador. He and many other artists are participating in S.O.S. Rio to help those that have been affected the worst. If anyone is interested in helping out financially, an account through the bank Bradesco has been set up. It's: Cáritas Arquidiocesana, no banco Bradesco, Agência 0814-1, C/C: 48500-4. All proceedes go to the flood victims.

Design Sponge: Chocolate Pudding Goodness

So, in between checking my e-mail and facebook(virtual crack) I came across the most decadent chocolate recipe at Design Sponge. Just imagine petite gateau in a cup accompanied by fresh cream or ice cream hitting your palate. I can't think of anything more delicious or more heavenly on this earth. The recipe is from Design Sponge, one of my favorite sites online now. One can see interior design, DIY, product guide, accessories, a city guide, new grafic art, calendar wallpapers, and my favorite, delicious recipes, all in one site whimsically designed to inspire and entertain anyone that loves design. It makes my mornings a little bit brighter while having breakfast and sipping on some Brazilian coffee (the best) in my little shot size demitasse. Side note: I found a set of six white porcelean demitasses, totally chic or "chique" as Brazilians love to say, at Tem Tudo or something like that in Ipanema for $R20. So happy!

Without further adeu, the All-Inspiring Chocolate Pudding Goodness Recipe:

Soft-centred chocolate puddings

Makes 4
• 4 tbs granulated white sugar (60g) + 2/3 cup sugar (160g)
• 100g butter, chopped
• 200g good quality dark chocolate, chopped
• 3 eggs
• 2 tbs self-rising flour (30g)*
• Icing sugar (powdered) & thick cream, to serve

* To make your own self-rising flour, for each cup of all-purpose flour (125g), add 1 1/2 teaspoons (7.5g) of baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon of salt (2.5g).

Step 1:
Preheat oven to 200°C/390F. Lightly grease 4 x mud australia Limoges porcelain baby noodle bowls (or similar oven-safe bowls). Sprinkle 1 tbs sugar into each bowl and turn so sugar coats inside of the bowl.

Step 2:
Place the butter and chocolate in a heatproof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water. Stir with a metal spoon for 5 minutes or until mixture is smooth then remove from the heat.

Step 3:
Using electric hand mixer, beat eggs and remaining sugar on high speed until pale and slightly thickened. Pour warm chocolate mixture into egg mixture. Sift flour over mixture and stir gently to combine. Pour mixture evenly between bowls. Place onto a tray. Bake 20 to 25 minutes until well risen.

Step 4:
Dust with icing sugar and serve with thick cream if desired.

I'm going to try this recipe out ASAP! Enjoy!

The Perishers

The Swedish indie band The Perishers has caught my eye a few months back when I shamelessly started watching GREEK to get my fill of American culture, since I live Brazilian almost all day everyday. I know this has absolutely nothing to do with Brazil, Rio de Janeiro or my MBA, but since I discovered this band here in Rio de Janeiro, I feel that it is within the boundries of this blog to note.

The Perishers have actually been around since 1997 and have three albums released: From Nothing to One, Let There Be Morning, and Victorious. Among these albums, my favorite two songs have to be "There's Nothing Like You and I" and "My Heart." Their melodies are simple, nothing spectactular, but Ola Kluft's ,the lead singer, voice is hauntingly calming and sexy.

Subway Case 101

Throughout the week, I take the Metro/Subway on average about eight times, that is coming and going. While on the subway reading makes the time fly so much faster; however, during rush hour traffic, finding a seat is next to impossible at times. When this occures, the best activity one can partake is the artful game of people-watching. On the subway this is a tricky task, as everyone is looking at everyone, but one can't stare too intently at anyone. Slightly paradoxical. One must acquire the skills and agility of looking nowhere--off into the distance--which is in reality is black windows with the occasional light speeding by. I refuse to be this aloof citizen that doesn't take advantage of a people-watching moment like this. People are irritated, hot and sweaty, tired from the day, and ready to get home with as little delay as possible--the perfect scenario for a sociological observance.

In Rio de Janeiro, I have found that generally people like to cluster together, but oddly enough this not the case on the subways or buses. For example, if there are twenty tables available at a restaurant, and you sit in the middle, normally, a carioca will inevitibly sit two or three tables away, maybe even right next to your table to feel more comfortable. Cariocas like to feel apart of the group and feel uncomfortable being a loner. (Don't we all?) But on the subway, cariocas tend to want their space and to be left alone. This is perfectly fine for me. Every once and a while you'll get the confused old lady wondering where the line is going. Making a lot of noise is usually rare, unless someone is trying to answer the phone because reception is bad, so the person on subway  has to invariably shout "I'm on the Metro! The Metro! On the Metro! Can I call you back? The Metro!" Then you have the foreigners that stand in the middle of the car having a conversation as loud as they possibly can about Brazil, "Brazilian girls are so hot. Two girls were flirting with me yesterday night, but then they wanted me to pay them to come up to my room. What's with that?" thinking that no one understands them, when in reality probably 50% of the car can. Any foreigners reading this that are traveling in Brazil and do this, beware most people can understand you. Just a precationary note.

During the unpleasant event of rush hour traffic, along with standing, you might be stomach to stomach a hairy sweaty man. Yesterday, in fact, I was almost nose to nose with ape man. I kid you not! He had salt and pepper hair sprouting from the front and back of his shirt wildly. At these times it is necessary to pray to God that a hot girl or guy enters the car and decides to be the one stomach to stomach with you, at least someone that smells good and isn't sick, coughing in your face. Oh the joys of public transportation!

If you are lucky you can bear witness to a good argument when people jam into the cars and then try to exit at the same time. Here is a nice mental picture, a flood of foot traffic racing to go inside a car, when the pedestrians inside the car are trying to exit at the same time, not to mention little old ladies throwing elbows to get the preferential seat. It's survial of the fittest during rush hour.

On a more positive note, most of the day the subway is the most civilized way to travel publically in Rio, aside from taxis. Everyone gives up their seat to little old ladies and men teetering onto the subway with their grocery carts. The air condicioner is a piece of heaven in 90 degree heat and getting from point A to point B quickly and efficiently is pleasing and encouraging, whether one is scouring the city for tourist sights, going to work or an embassy, or just to meet up with a friend for coffee at the historical Confeitaria Colombo, the subway in Rio de Janeiro is always an experience. Enjoy life!

UM ESTRANHO EM GOA

Typically, while in Rio subway transit, I try to read as much as possible to make the time fly faster. My latest read was Um estranho em Goa, about a foreigner that travels to Goa, India in search of personal questions about a certain character and to get to know the essence of its people and streets.

When one thinks of India, what are the first things to pop into your head: Bollywood, curry, bright colors, Slumdog Millionaire, Hinduism, the Ganges, and English occupation?  The India that we find this this novel, Goa, is an India formerly colonized by the Portuguese, replete with its customs and even language.  It is a short read full of vivid details that paints a portrait of Goa post-Portuguese rule and transports you to this different mixed world of traditions and people. Many have still retained their Portuguese and the customs left behind by their occupants. I recommend this book as a light summer or subway read, as I did, to inspire creativity, travel, and world knowledge.

...

"All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking" -Friedrich Nietzsche

10 Random Thoughts on Life

1. The best thing to do is always the most dificult.
2. In order to begin something, one must end another.
3. Nobody is perfect. (Cliche)
4. Time doesn't heal a broken heart; however, a new hottie will.
5. Music is medicine for the soul, but also capable of bring back painful memories. (Use with caution)
6. Bringing joy to someone's life is priceless.
7. Forgive when you are wrong and when you are not.
8. You really are what you eat.
9. Growing up is difficult and most of us would prefer to be young and ignorant.
10. Love is blind, so don't miss it when it is right in front of you.

Account for This

Tomorrow, written on my agenda in bold face letters and all caps is-- ACCOUNTING TEST. Lovely, seeing that I have still haven't studied for it yet. Sometimes, I wonder why I am doing my MBA at all. I am not the blase student that thinks about becoming a CEO or opening my own business to make an exorbantant income so, subsequently, I can buy a ton of cars, a huge house, and work myself to death, wishing that I had more time to do the things I always had wanted to do-no thanks! However, I am the business student thtat would like to live comfortably-possibly off of an internet based site that enables me to roam the world aimlessly, while still making bread to eat. Such a hippie, I know!

So in terms of Accounting, my life's Balance Sheet appears to be not a viable business, as it is: lossing short-term  and long-term assets, building up its accounts payable, while my perminent debits continue to be perminent. At a glance my life is a dying business, but thanks to the magic of interpretation I will show you that my life's Balance Sheet isn't delving into the depths of shutting down. One can't forget one very important area of the Balance Sheet: Investments. True, being abroad and going to school is diminishing my bank account, but we forgot to account for this, I am investing in the stock- the kind of stock with the best return in the world for me-myself.  When the economy crashes, my stock is still be replete with funds. So let's add the investments to the sheet now: fluency in another language, business skills, interpersonal skills, cultural emersion, time to decide what you love to do in life, new friends, exciting experiences, exotic tastes, self realization, and a MBA degree. When one tallies the sheet, it shows that my life's Balance Sheet is viable and strong.

Study time folks! Analyzing accounting ratios tomorrow.

Homage to Carnaval

Carnaval or Carnevale (to put away the meat) began in Italy as an elaborate costume party/ festival days before lent when Catholics were forbidden to eat meat. Since its initiate carnaval has spread around the world, starting with the Catholic countries of Europe and brought by the Europeans to the Americas, parts of Asia, west Africa, and the Caribbean. It is the biggest and longest party in the world. Among all of the countries that participate in Carnaval, Brazil has taken the costume party to the next level. All of the major cities of Brazil stop for the festivities and happiness it brings into the country.

RIO DE JANEIRO, Brazil - Carnaval is in the air. The whole city is smiling today to the beat of axe, samba, and maracatu vibrating in their hearts. Its jovial spirit is intoxicating and contagious. Buses are stopping in a traffic jam of colorful masks, wings, men dressed as babies and outreagous women, vibrant leis, and street vendors suppling the elixir of  cool (beer) in the hellish heat. Normally, this could be a receipe for disaster, not here, not now. It's Carnaval. Lucky boys find a cute girl to kiss and spread the happiness, and, with hope, nothing else. Everywhere one turns there are couples kissing for the first time and possibly the last, boys jumping for joy, girls shaking their hips to the rhymth of the music from the enormous float passing with numerous sambistas playing and singing over the loud speakers. At the sambadrome downtown, the elaborate floats from the samba schools make their way down the cat walk in euphoria after all of the hard work put into the float. It bounces with the rhyth of the dancarinha's shake for the crowd. Flags twirl, the drums pound, feathers take flight, confetti falls, and gems glimmer. Carnaval is jubalation, happiness, joy, bliss, cheer, the medicine for lifting heavy spirits. Enjoy life- life is good. Bom Carnaval!

Inferno

"E come quei che con lena affannata,
uscito fuor del pelago a la riva,
si volge a l'acqua perigliosa e guata.

And just as he who, with exhausted breath,
having escaped from the sea to shore,
turns to the perilous waters and gazes."

The Divine Comedy: The Inferno
Canto I, lines 22-24
 
Existence Part II
 
The fear of hell resignates to almost everyone that is slightly religious with varying degrees. From a Christian view point, Jesus came and died on the cross to save the world from its sins and the wrath of hell and all those who believe in Him and accept him as their Savor will have everlasting life and happiness with God in heaven, all those who don't shall perish and be sent to the depts of hell- roughly summarized.

Questions that have been perplexing me lately are the following: Why do we need saving? From whom do we need saving? Why did God put the "apple" or forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden if He knew it would tempt Adam and Eve? What was it about this particular fruit that changed the entire course of history for human beings? Why would God, in His infinite power and love, create us to be sinners or so easily tempted? Finally, what is sin really?

I'm a volitile or influential moment in my life, delving into the oceans of self-discovery and the meaning of life. I don't have the slightest clue about the answers to these difficult existencia questions. They just bat around in my head day-in and day-out. My opinions are fickle. Also if Jesus came died, scaraficed himself on the cross everyone to have everlasting life; and if we, by nature as humans, are sinners without the ability to ever be sin free, what is the difference between one sin and one million sins in a year? Didn't He die for us? So why is there so much persecution and hate still in this world?  Wouldn't that imply that no one is going to hell? Only the ones that don't take Jesus into their hearts? I find that hard to believe as Jesus was the most compassionate "man" to walk the planet. He taught of love and kindness, loving everyone: whores, murders, the sick, etc, while reprimanding those priest that were judging others. Why does hell exist?!

"I think, therefore, I am"

Existence Part I
Lately, I have been battling with the human dilemma: Why do I exist? What is the meaning of life? These aren't the typical thoughts of a 25 year old business student (as a side note, that is a completely different topic all together). These thoughts have been looming ever since I was born, but have resurfaced now. When I was a child, I was "saved" as a child of God. I repeated asked him into my heart. I would wake up in the morning and invite him again and again into the depts of my heart. That's what they told me to do at church- "invite Jesus into your heart and you will have everlasting life." I guess, I worried that he didn't hear me the first time, so I needed to ask him every day and every church service at the end when the preacher was really evanglizing and strumming the strings of, hopeless or scared to death of hell, people's hearts. I would pray the prayer of everlasting hope and life every time. Which one of those people was I or am I still? The person hoping for a better life or eternal life at the end or the person that is already happy, but scared to death of being banished to hell...