Heart Center Opened, Love Opened.

Happiness, like love, is hard to define; but when you feel it you know it.  On the plane back from Brazil I realized I'm truly happy right now.

We're back in the USA.  Made it back yesterday and proud to say that I survived a 9000 mile, 24 hour trip alone with two little kids.  Airports suck, layovers suck, gates switching on you without warning or appearing on the television suck, crowded airplanes with center seats and kids sitting on your lap begging to go potty while the plane is on the tar mat in a long line for take off - suck.  But all in all I'm giving the voyage an A since nothing really bad happened.  There were a few nice people who offered to help along the way.  Just simply keeping an eye on our bags while I toke one of the kids to the bathroom for the 3rd time that hour was a huge help!  Then yesterday when Nala fell asleep before boarding and I needed both hands to move her on the plane; there was a nice man who wheeled our carry-on for us.

"I don't ask God for anything, everyday I just thank him for all that we have."

During our goodbyes at the airport, that was the last thing Mari's mom said - with a huge smile and her hands pressed against her chest embracing her heart. It has stuck with me like a cozy sweater.  I'm so grateful right now.  Sitting here on the sofa, in the silence, I'm shinning through my chest and heart with love, happiness, and gratuity.



























On the plane ride I stared at the sleeping children feeling happiness.  Happiness, like love, is hard to define; but when you feel it you know it.  Happiness is different than fun.  You can have fun, but not be happy or joyful.

On the plane I realized I'm truly happy right now.  

So thankful for getting laid off of my job and pushed to spend more time exploring the world with my kids and less time dressed in suits sitting in boring meetings.  The last four months have been so fun and made me realize how fantastic the kids are.  They've also rekindled my motherly intuition and made me recognize that I'm a really great mom too.  I don't feel overwhelmed so much anymore, and this successful trip validated how cohesive we've become.  I'm just so grateful to have this opportunity and for Mari being supportive.

And speaking of Mari, I'm so head-over-heels in love.

As a little girl I dreamed about my husband and dreamed of being in love, but I had no idea...  I mean it seems like every year we peel through another layer of emotion and unity, binding us deeper and more passionately.

I believe in love at first sight.  I thought I loved him when I first saw him from afar though the dull glimmer of dark humid air on florescent light.  Through the noise of the party we sought each other out all night long talking and smiling.

I have so much to be thankful for right now:
Yoga teacher training, amazing extended family, loving and supportive husband.
oh and
The kids are potty trained, they go to bed without issue and sleep through the night!

Life is so much easier.

I don't know what I did to deserve this great life.  But thank you universe.

Brazil Diary - Being in Tia Cela's Wedding

Reading the last few posts, you'd barely believe I'm a mama.  There has been virtually no mention of my kids.  But they're here and I'm thankful for having family and friends who care about us and take the time to invite the kids into their homes and worlds.

Kaio and Nala were invited to participate in Mari's cousin, Tia Cela's, wedding.   I felt honored that she would think of us even though we live so far away.  I also felt a little hesitant about how Kaio would react; he's  such a spaz attack sometimes.  But after spending a month here with Mari's family I'm learning that Mari did so many of the exact same things as Kaio.  

Actually at this same age Tia Cela's mom married and invited Mari to be a paige in the ceremony.  Mari's dad declined, "No that's not a good idea, that won't end well." 

So he attended the wedding as a regular guest.

Then actually at her wedding reception party Mari somehow escaped and left the building.  The whole wedding party came to a hault and turned into a search party.  They found him acrross the street sitting between a couple on bench, interrupting their date.

Soooo when Kaio had a breakdown at the fitting, refusing to try on his suit and Mari and I coaxed and eventually lost our patience.  Tia Cela's mom looked over at Mari and said, "Go easy on the boy, Mari.  You at his age would have been running around the store pulling all the dresses off the racks."

Meanwhile Nala was in princess heaven dressed and getting fitted in her white princess dress.  She just stared wistfully into the mirror.  Then they brought her a crown, which made her 10x more dreamy.  There were three girls and three boys in the wedding.  The seamstress brought Nala's crown out first, and Nala, so precious, asked "where is the other princess's crown?"  We had to pry her dress off her, bribing her with promise of a trip to the ice cream shop.

In the days leading to the wedding, i tried my technique of drawing pictures to prepare and explain the event to Kaio.  I drew him getting dressed in his suit and walking down the isle.  But he just kept angrily insisting that he did not want to be in the wedding and drew big X's over my picture.  

So the night of the wedding I was not expecting much.  Just hoping he would change his mind and man up to the occasion, support Tia Cela and make her a happy bride.  When it was time to get dressed Nala hopped right into her dress, socks, shoes, panties, crown, and ran out to strut around the living room like a Toddlers in Tiaras contestant.  Kaio saw all the attention she was getting and ran off to get dressed too.

Our fabulous head start broke down as both kids eventually revolted and ripped off their clothes!  I think they were hot and stuffy or something.  We convinced Nala to get dressed again, but Kaio threw a fit.  We spent so much time trying to console him that we didn't realize we were running late for the wedding!  Finally, on threat of leaving, he decides he wants to come.  I get him dressed in traffic in the back seat of the car.  Then this happened:

I guess that's what happens when a wedding is scheduled for 7:30pm.  We arrived at quarter to 8.  And almost no one was there....  Yup, that's Brazilian time, folks are at least an hour late.  

The wedding ceremony began a little after 8:30 and to my complete surprise Nala ended up being the one who chickened out.  

She'd done great in rehearsal.  But the mix of sleepy, bright lights, and lots of fancy dressed people scared her like a turtle into its shell.  She completely refused to walk down the isle no matter what we said.  

Kaio, however, insisted that he wanted to go. 

And he went even though his date, like Nala, also became to timid to walk and ditched him at the isle.  So he took hands with Tia Cela's sweet younger sister.  

I was near the end of the isle and when he saw me he burst into tears, "I don't want to be married!"

"But Kaio, you're not married yet.  It's Cela's wedding, not yours."

Still crying, "I don't want to be married."

All this time we thought he was being reclusive, but really, he thought by walking down the isle he was getting married and he just didn't want to get married.   Pretty amazing that a boy, who's only 5 years old, can have such an aversion to marriage already.  We're thinking that something must have happened in a past life!

So he calmed and we went off to the reception where he spent the night bouncing from table to table visiting with the pretty ladies.  Then he spent the second half of the evening following the bride around, holding her hand, trying to dance with her when the groom wasn't looking...  

I kept thinking: if we make it through the night without history repeating itself and him escaping the building and stopping the party, then tonight is a success.   (Mari's mom made sure to check with the door man that they weren't going to be letting any kids out without parent's in tow.)

When Nala saw Kaio mingling with the bride, she honed in as well.  My kids followed the white princess around from table to table, trying to sneak into all the photo ops.  Tia Cela later came up to me to comment on how great they were and what positive energy they brought to the party.   

It felt really good to hear that.   

Being here with Mari's family and hearing the stories of the trouble he and his cousins got into, well it's exactly the antidote i needed for all the uncertainty I've had as a mom.  The 'is this normal?' feeling i got around some other kids.   Kaio's pretty different from some of the other boys I know in the US, but he's no great difference from his dad.  And that's a wonderful, fabulous thing in my book, and the best I could hope for!   

Brazil Diary - Dancing Girls!

Went out clubing last night with a some friends (well really they're in-laws but that term never sounds nice) and felt like a major dork for not knowing how to dance. The funny thing is that by US standards, I do dance and probably a know a bit more than most girls in the States since I can Salsa and Meringue.  But here that means diddly.  Walking into the club was like walking into a Dirty Dancing movie.  The place was packed and skinny girls in short skirts were being twirled, flung and shaking their tushies like belly dancers to the beat.  I could have happily sat and stared in awe all night, but the lady was singing, the acordianist was playing, the percussionist was boogieing, and the keyboardist, well he was yauning but I'll pretend I didn't see that.  So I shook my tush in a pair of strapy platforms and a strapless babydoll.

Maybe I could have caught on by the end of the night if the band had stuck with one type of music.  But these guys' repetoire resembled a child's colorful sock drawer.  They played Forro, Pagode, Samba, Rock, Brega, Certainaga, and Reggae.  The DJ played Techno, Pop, Trance and Balle Funk.  They even busted out some Beattles and Village People (at which point I took a break).  Every dance has a different beat and step and if you ask a Brazilian how it goes, they'll do some fancy crazy footwork thing totally expecting you to be able to follow.  Here you might be a freak or at least culturally deprived if you don't know how to dance by the time you're 5.  

Oh boy did I miss Mari.  You'd think that girls night out on the town looking all sassy would bring you back to fun and crazy ladies night at the frats.  Although it may have served to stoke my ego a little bit (a good thing, right?)  It just ain't the same when the girls are old married or have BFs.  And I realized again that I just don't really like dancing with anyone other than my man.  Especially not the crotch touching sensual Latin dirty dancing movie mambo.  And when I fumbled out of sync doing some new step with one of my SIL's friends he looked at me like I was lying to him and pretending I didn't know how to dance. A few minutes later he said goodbye and left the party! That's how unbelievable it is to be a girl that doesn't know how to dance around here.

So if you come to Brazil, take a few dancing classes first and bring your party clothes.  It's such a blast!

Brazil Diary - Life Over Buildings

From the neglected buildings, the miracle of life somehow takes root.  Life spouts and thrives over our forgotten spaces.

In the old parts of the city, plants emerge from crevices.

The walls of the city breath with life erupting despite unobliging conditions.

 

Squatting in abandoned buildings, the jungle ventures to reclaim the city.

This next building has a bit of a story.  It had a large tree growing inside of it (taller than four stories high).  Through the windows you could see a jungle of vines and plants.  Last year a group of artists used the building to create an exhibit of local photographers displaying their work, and specifically used this space to spotlight the appreciation for old architecture and cultural identity.   The exhibit is now closed, but still visible from the outside.

It had been a ritual of mine to visit this building every trip to Brazil and photograph it.  I'd been really looking forward to taking a picture of that huge tree.

Now I see how my magical building inspired the imagination of others as well.

Then this weekend I found this new forest growing:

Brazil Diary - Like a Lotus Born from Mud

When I mailed that application for the study abroad program, my heart was beating nervously.  At the mailbox on the corner of Church and State St, off-campus of my university, I hesitated before dropping the thick manila envelope down the wide mouth big blue slot.

Do I really want to do this?  Go live in another country for a whole semester... 

I don't remember exactly what I was scared of, but I remember feeling really apprehensive about sending off that app.

Then the plane landed among a sea of green tropical trees, and this time my heart beat with anticipation.

The next four months of "school" passed with the pace of Brazil itself.  They passed with color, with smiles, with hugs and kisses.  They passed with boat trips, swimming in rivers, and long thick rainy afternoons napping in hammocks.  In a way it seemed like paradise escape from the too serious and rigid US life.  And in another way it was a splash immersion in a world of trash, bugs, dirt, poverty, and the messy intersection of cultural and economic pressures on ecology.

Imagine a ceramic vase painted and sculpted beautifully portraying rainforest utopia for sale in a house, but to buy it you step over a drain littered with trash and plastic water bottles.  In this city, few dare to drink the abundant polluted water.  In the Amazon region, the left fist slashes and burns the forest while the right hand feeds the family hope of a country lifted from third world stature.  The native village and wildlife refuge drowned out to build a hydroelectric plant powerful enough to bring the gift of light and television to millions of people.

Brazilian concept of sustainability is on a different point in the 'green' stratum.  Individual eco footprints here are much smaller.  Fast food doesn't come packaged in paper and boxes upon layers of junk, and portions are smaller so I've rarely seen anyone waste food.  Soda and beer are all served in glass bottles that are returned to the factory, sterilized and refilled.   Gadgets and products are expensive, so people rarely buy some new thing that never gets used.  When something breaks they fix it.  A/C units are by room and only turned on when people are occupying that room.  Same with electronics: lights and computers are turned off when not in use.  Everyone hangs laundry to dry in the sun.   It's pretty cool to see how easy life flows with so much less packaging and megawatts being interchanged.

But one thing this city majorly needs is some cleanup teamed with education.  You just get used to stepping over the trash.  What doesn't get picked up gets washed away by the winter season rain, clogging and creating dams of rotten sloth refuse, eventually swimming to sea to join and mingle in the great floating trash gyre.

I know it's never cool to criticize someone else's country.  But really now I consider Belem my second home.  I find the expressions of art among simplicity beautiful.  I love the use of colors to paint the houses and the textures created through heavy rain weathering. Its so different from the marble and brick dominated architecture in DC and the HOA approved colors from back home.

It's so strange that my life has taken a permanent stake in this dirty city.  I never imagined this would happen when I dropped that study abroad app in the mailbox.  Shows that you never know where your life will land you.  And like the lotus flower, so much beauty can emerge from an unexpected messy place.

And to end this post: some poetic graffiti.