Rio de Janeiro, 5/1/05
I HATE THIS STUPID INTERNATIONAL KEYBOARD I~M USING!!! Not only are there all sorts of different keys, like the ç and à and other accents, everything is laid out differently. The shift key is one extra key over to the left, and other essentials like the asterisk and semicolon are nowhere to be found. To make it worse, some smartass kid came in here and physically switched up some of the keys, so you press what looks like a tilde accent and actually end up with a ]. It~s all exceedingly frustrating. And I can~t find the stupid apostrophe to save my life!
I actually wrote most of this post yesterday while sitting on an antique couch in the corner of my bedroom, computer propped up on my lap by pillows, trying to catch up on my writing...
All the windows are open, letting in the afternoon light and the sounds of samba and shared beers from the bar across the street. I’m listening to the CD Keith made me, the one with TV on the Radio and Black Heart Procession. I woke up this morning and did about an hour of improv Nia-style dancing and then some stretches on my new aqua colored yoga mat. After working out I went downstairs and had mangoes, fresh figs, and passion fruit mousse for breakfast.
The fruit here is unbelievable. In our small garden we have banana trees with the sweetest bunches of finger-sized fruits, an acerola tree that makes red berries packed with vitamin C, and a skinny pitanga tree from northeastern Brazil that has slightly sour, fleshy orange fruits shaped like little parachutes. On Fridays there is an outdoor farmer’s market down the block that I love going to. In addition to all the tropical fruits you could imagine, there are vendors selling okra, collard greens, and big bunches of herbs and spices to flavor food and treat common health problems. In the middle of everything is the fishmonger’s stand with glistening rows of fresh sardines, spear-headed squid, shrimp, and brightly-scaled fish. I can’t wait to go next week and bring home armfuls of good food.
Tonight I’m going to a screening of "The Motorcycle Diaries" at the gothic-style Episcopal Church across the street from our house. Until about a year ago, if you wanted to see a movie you would have to take a 10 minute trolley ride downtown and walk to a 4-screen theater notorious for showing dubbed Hollywood blockbusters and Xuxa films for kids. So about a year ago, the Santa Teresa neighborhood association decided it was high time to have movies available on top of the hill. Since there is no commercial zoning here and literally no open space available, the best option was to convert the old church into an impromptu theater on Sunday evenings. They show a funny selection of movies, ranging from Monty Python to artsy Brazilian short films, projected onto a white canvas set up in front of the altar. Everyone sits on the uncomfortable wooden pews and snacks on popcorn and guarana soda. It’s a great community event, and you can’t beat a dollar movie no matter how unconventional the setup!
I still feel very overwhelmed by everything that happened during my last few days in Austin. It hasn’t completely hit me that I don’t live there anymore, that I’m not going to hop on a plane next week and come back to my job and my friends and my sun-filled house.
When I first moved to Austin in the summer of 2003, I was in the middle of my quarter-life crisis. I~m sure as this blog develops I~ll write more about everything that happened, but for now I]ll just use it to illustrate where I was the day I moved to Austin. I had just driven a U-Haul for 900 miles on the most boring strech of flat highway possible, was about halfway through a 41-day crying spell, had no friends in the city, no job lined up, and a relationship in shambles. Each day was a challenge, and I honestly don~t know if I would have made it through were it not for Azul, the internet, and a cell phone.
I contrast that with the day I left Austin, surrounded by people that opened their hearts to me and offered simple, sincere friendship without any strings attached. I found a job that at once frustrated and fulfilled me, setting the stage for more personal growth than I could have imagined. And most importantly, I left Austin at peace with myself and genuinely HAPPY with life. It all sounds so trite, but it~s true. I remember the night Erin and I hung out with the Louisiana boys at the Continental Club, I had this epiphany. There I was, surrounded by my best friend and a bunch of rednecks and hippies, listening to bluegrass and drinking beer, and it occurred to me. If I could choose to be anybody in that club, I would choose to be me. I choose me! I choose my life! It was so simple, but a feeling of completeness rushed over me that I hadn~t felt in a really long time. I had made it through the shit life doled out in the past two years and come out a much stronger, better person. I wouldn~t trade the 41 days of tears and everything that followed for the world. I AM SO HAPPY BEING ME!!!
Wow. I~m being soooooo syrupy right now. Maybe it~s the sunny weather in the middle of Rio~s rainy winter that~s bringing out the sap in me. Maybe it~s a euphoric reaction to the HUGE bowl of açai I just ate with my friend Jenna. Who knows.
I feel so overwhelmed by everything that I want to write. Sometimes I feel like I~m going to burst at the seams, letters and phrases pouring out of me like those magnetic poetry kits people get for their refrigerators. There is just so much I want to capture, so many intense feelings rushing through my head and leaving me exhausted.
Well, my internet time is just about up (I~m at a cafe in copacabana because for some strange reason the dial-up connection at home refuses to work). I love and miss you all. Happy belated birthday to my mom. And write e-mails, damnit!!!! I miss you guys!!!!!
love,
Ali
1 comment:
email comming.
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