Julho Nervoso

Man, July has been quite the month when it comes to anxiety and nerves. There's been:

* World Cup (enough said).

* Fraud using my business credit card.

* A medical procedure that was pretty straightforward but had me absolutely terrified, shaking and crying the entire time. I have some major phobias surrounding cutting, stitching, and just knowing that someone is "messing with" my body. I am still exhausted from the emotional energy spent at the doctor's office.

* Results from said procedure: basal cell carcinoma. What????? Yep. A dot of skin cancer on my shoulder. Highly treatable, very unlikely to give me future problems, but still. Que susto! If you've spent lots of time in sunny-ass places like New Mexico, Brazil, Mozambique, and California, go get your spots looked at. I was shocked at this diagnosis, especially because I'm young, my skin seemed ok, nothing overly suspicious or strange going on. Just a routine skin check, and boy am I glad I went!!

On a much more pleasant note, Rico and I had our 6 year wedding anniversary at the beginning of the month. We went to the Fogo do Chão churrascaria at Santana Row in San Jose. It was pretty delicious, but not quite up to par with the Fogo in São Paulo. Still, it was a relaxing getaway and allowed me to baby my stitches.

Hard to believe it's been 6 years already...

Pedra Portugesa

The Portuguese have a unique tradition when it comes to sidewalks and paved outdoor areas. They create elaborate cobblestone mosaics using irregular pieces of stone, usually black and white granite. Everything is done by hand, from cutting the stones to laying them in perfect patterns. It is a fascinating art form. If you are a Portuguese speaker, you can read more here, in English check out this page.

Pedra portuguesa (or calçada portuguesa) isn't limited to Portugal. You can find this tradition all over the lusophone world. Here are some of my favorite examples:

Flower and checkerboard pattern in Lisboa.

Frond pattern in Lisboa. 

Estrelas in Lisboa.

Forgotten waves at Ilha de Moçambique.

Iconic Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro. 

Red and white pedra portuguesa we had installed in the courtyard at Casa Rosa. 

Despedida photoshoot at the Casa Rosa, 2011.

Brazil July 2011: The Roundup

Trip Highlights:

• Selling the Casa Rosa. By far the most efficient turn of events possible. The house had been on the market for many months already, and Rico and I decided to go down to Rio to clear out all the furniture and the few personal belongings we had there so that, when a sale did eventually take place, the Casa Rosa would be ready to hand over. Never in our wildest dreams could we have anticipated that, not five minutes after stepping in the house the first Monday of our trip, the phone would ring and our broker would let us know that an offer had been made by an extremely serious buyer. Within 24 hours the house was off the market, and we were busy moving furniture and taking care of the initial paperwork for the sale.
• I anticipated this being a really hard trip for me. It was, but only for a small moment. I'm happy to report that selling the Casa Rosa really did feel like the right thing to do. I had no remorse in letting go, my desire to cling completely dissipated. Simplification really feels good, as does recognizing and accepting when a particular chapter has run its course, as opposed to fruitless, tiring attempts to prolong it unnecessarily.
• I got over one of my fashion hang-ups and actually wore Havaianas in public in Brazil. The mere thought of wearing flip-flops outside the house and/or beach used to provoke a cold sweat in my afraid-to-be-identified-as-a-foreigner person. I'm over it. When my feet are swollen and it's hot outside and I have blisters, I'll wear Havaianas and like it. Aside from going into the lobby at Citibank, I didn't even feel weird doing it!
• The opportunity to catch up with most of the family and friends we wanted to see. So nice to reconnect.
• Rico and I redecorated my mother-in-law's apartment. It looks amazing. We bought only a couple of pieces, relying rather on rearranging what my m-i-l already had and supplementing it with furniture, lighting, and paintings from Casa Rosa.
• Rico and I celebrated our 3-year wedding anniversary. It was a treat to be in the Casa Rosa and at the church across the street, hard to believe that so much (and yet so little) time has passed. We had a photo shoot to say goodbye to the house and to celebrate our anniversary. The proofs arrived yesterday, and they look amazing.

The Lowlights:

• I realized that, not only do I get slightly motion sick, I am *really* afraid of sailing at anything but a children's pace. We went sailing at Angra, which was incredible, but the winds were good and the boat was big and eventually we were at an extreme angle hauling through the water. For Rico and his family, it was paradise. For me, it was tear-inducing. Literally. I was so scared by the feeling that the boat was about to capsize, I couldn't help but cry. Not my finest moment, but everyone was very kind and understanding.
• Speaking of such things, I also am increasingly scared by air travel. After years of not partaking, I am now a happy airport and in-flight drinker. And if I didn't feel like such shit after taking sleep aids or something like Valium, I'd be all over those, too.
• I ate way too much fried food in Brazil. Inevitable, really. Everywhere you look there is a fried treat. Bars, highway rest stops, street fairs - hell, even breakfast - are the glorious kingdoms of bolinhos, pasteis, coxinhas and more. And if you manage to avoid the fried stuff, you will be satisfied to encounter large quantities of puff pastry, cheese and sweetened condensed milk. Not surprisingly, I put on a little weight.
• To be fair, Brazilians do eat lots of healthy, fresh things. And drink lots of beer. :)

The Rose Chapter

The other night I indulged in a pity party on my mother-in-law's veranda, a good half hour of hot tears and thick, wailing sobs provoked by the impending sale of the Casa Rosa. I thought about the parties I'd never throw, the atelier I'd never have, the friends I'd never make, the sense of community that would remain forever fleeting. It felt like I'd somehow failed, given up not only on my bohemian dream life in Santa Teresa, but given up on Brazil.

And then, after that good crying session, there was a shift. I was sad, yes, but it was as if a fog had lifted and I could suddenly see the bigger picture. Casa Rosa was but a chapter (and a wonderful one, without question) in a much greater story, one in which I wasn't the lone protagonist but a member of an interconnected cast. Selling the house was a collective decision for a collective good. A shared future. Family.

At the end of the day a house is just a house, no matter how spectacular the salmon pink Neoclassical columns or the crystal chandeliers or the banana grove in the winter garden. It's okay to say goodbye and move on, even if your dreams and plans involved a different ending.

I frequently remind myself that selling the Casa Rosa doesn't mean that I've lost my traveler's spirit, that I've abandoned my international lifestyle, that I've become somehow less special because I don't call Santa Teresa home. A house is not an identity, and if it has become one, priorities should be reexamined. A house is just a house, and it is a welcome feeling of lightness to move on, to simplify, to let go of attachments.

I feel satisfied, centered, at peace. It's not the address or the neighborhood or even the country that matter, it's who you are with. I am looking forward to the next chapter, full of family and friends, at home at Casa Cali or wherever else the story takes us.

Farewell to the Garden

One of my favorite aspects of the Casa Rosa is the internal courtyard. The banana grove, the lion head fountain, the mini pool, the pedra portuguesa that replicates the paving pattern of Copacabana beach... Some of the features were there when we bought the house, but much of the current look is thanks to upgrades we made over the years. Perfect for a garden party. Happily we've had many a great festa in that courtyard, the crowning glory being our wedding reception. :)

Jet Lag and News of a Sale

Traveling East is always so much harder for me than traveling West in terms of jet lag. Although I love to sleep, I really dislike sleeping in (strange, I know) so the fact that I'm not tired at night and then sleep until 10 or 11 in the morning is really hard for me to manage. It makes me feel like I've wasted half the day, and there's nothing I can do about it until I've adjusted to the new time zone (by which time, of course, it's time to go home).

At least my jet lag is compatible with our social schedule here. Cariocas like late nights, and nearly every day we've arrived home between 11pm and 2am after birthday parties and bar outings. We've had a chance to catch up with many friends and relatives, which has been wonderful. A welcome balance to dealing with the Casa Rosa and the general stress of trying to get a few too many things done in a short number of days.

The big news is that it seems the house has sold. Rico and I literally set foot in the Casa Rosa last Monday and the phone rang with the offer. We were getting ready to do our 'despedida' photo shoot when the news came, which gave a bittersweet but ultimately very satisfying sense of closure. I wonder if you'll be able to see that look in my face in the photos? Our photographer is on holiday, so we're anxiously awaiting the proofs when he returns.

We've managed to tie up a lot of loose ends in the last week. The house seemingly has sold (still have to close, so it's not a 100% done deal yet), we've sorted out our housekeeper/caseira B.'s situation and hooked her up with another job, we've sold/donated/moved most of the furniture that was still in the house, and in general it feels like a clean end to the chapter. It's so incredibly nice to simplify and move on while the moving is good, even if it's hard to say farewell to such a special house.

Here are a few photos from our trip thus far:

Good Times with Good People

One of my favorite things about the Casa Rosa is that over the years we were able to host so many friends, friends-of-friends, and relatives. Here's a few memories.

Despedida Rosa

Selling Casa Rosa has stirred up such complicated feelings for me. The most similar feeling I've had is my myriad "despedidas" over the years. Despedida means goodbye, both in Portuguese and Spanish. I remember being overwhelmed by a mix of grief, reluctance, fear, excitement, and happiness with nearly every goodbye party I've had. You're leaving behind people and places you've grown to love. You've set down roots. You've created dreams and plans involving the place you've called home. And then it's time to leave, to forge a life in another setting and start the emotional roller coaster anew.

Selling Casa Rosa most feels like my despedida when I was a high school exchange student in Maringá, Paraná. I spent a year down there, my first experience in Brazil, and had such a fantastic experience I didn't want to come home to New Mexico. I remember sobbing for weeks leading up to my departure date. When it came time to actually get in the car and drive to the airport, I bawled like a baby and had to be pried from the arms of my then-boyfriend Fernando. For as much as I didn't want to leave Maringá, I was also excited to see my mom and dad again, to be starting college in the fall, to make new friends and have new adventures.

In the big scheme of things, I knew that moving on was the right choice, but God was it hard. I had terrible reverse culture shock, and spent a good several months being an arrogant pill. All I wanted was to go back to Brazil and resume my fun life as an exchange student, and that totally clouded my vision of being home. I thought New Mexico was provincial, that our culture was piggish, that my peers were dumb, that my parents didn't understand what I'd experienced abroad, that I'd fundamentally changed and could no longer relate to anyone in my daily life. Of course, sense eventually returned to my teenage head and I had a fantastic college experience, but it was a long, bumpy road to that point.

When I think about selling Casa Rosa, I'm right back to that last desperate, weepy embrace I gave Fernando before going to the airport. I cried so hard, all I wanted to do was cling to this person and this life I'd come to call my own. Deep down I knew Fernando wasn't my forever partner, that we didn't have enough in common to continue a satisfying relationship. I knew that Maringá wasn't the right place for me either, a beautiful city but slightly isolated and hickish. Still, it was tremendously hard to let go.

We originally got Casa Rosa back in 2001 because a) it was a fantastic investment, and b) I was certain I'd return to Rio to live "for good" in the near future, and Casa Rosa would be my home. Well, plans changed. Mozambique wasn't even on my radar at that point, much less getting together with Rico and moving here to California. It's become clear that Rio won't be our home base, and we simply don't get down to Brazil enough to take advantage of that spectacular pink house.

Renting seems like an obvious solution, but it's not that easy. Casa Rosa is on the equivalent of the historic register, and it is full of the original features from 1910. Renters, no matter how well-intentioned and careful, end up destroying property. Things break. Old houses constantly need maintenance. It would be a challenge to be good landlords were we based in Rio; doing the job from another continent is a massive headache and simply not worth the effort.

We could also just leave the house empty, with only the caretaker around, as we've done for the greater part of the last decade. This option is tempting - we could hold on to this one-of-a-kind property and not have to say our goodbyes - but again the energy and resource drain is not insignificant. I think we're all at the point (and by "we" I mean me, my mom and Rico) where we want to simplify, concentrate on the lives we are currently living in the homes we currently occupy.

I do feel a bit like I'm walking away from an unfulfilled destiny with the sale of Casa Rosa. I always pictured myself living there, fully integrated in the funky, bohemian neighborhood of Santa Teresa. I'd be the artist in the pink house. We'd throw fantastic parties and host friends from all over the world. We'd know our neighbors by name. I'd suntan on the veranda and sketch the architectural details of the house while the bonde rattled by on the street below. Casa Rosa would feel like home, something that in all honesty it never truly has.

Of course we could pick up everything tomorrow, sell our furniture, put the cats in their traveler crates, and move to Rio. This Casa Rosa dream life isn't out of our reach, but I'm at the point where I have to admit that I'm not prepared to make the sacrifices for that Brazilian fantasy to come true. The life I imagine in Casa Rosa is definitely viewed through rose-colored glasses (ha, ha). It's not all bohemian wonderland. Maintaining the house is hard work. There are security issues and quality of life issues. More than anything, the life I desire in Casa Rosa would entail leaving this blessed existence in California, something I'm uninterested in doing. We love it here, and in contrast to the pink house in Santa Teresa, Casa Cali has felt like home from day one.

It's also a very good time to sell property right now in Rio, so the timing is good and we're hoping that the sale will allow our family to do new and wonderful things here in California.

We have some fantastic memories of Casa Rosa, the most spectacular being our wedding in 2008. I'd rather that amazing night be what I associate with the house, not another 10 years of long-distance maintenance that will leave us all with a bitter, resentful taste in our mouths. In my rational mind, I know it's time to move on and let someone else fulfill a dream and live their destiny in Casa Rosa. That gorgeous house deserves to be lived in, to be someone's home. Still, I can feel a lineup of sobs deep in my throat and all I really want to do is cling.

To say goodbye, a proper despedida for Casa Rosa, I've asked Rico to arrange for our wedding photographer to do a photo shoot of us in the house. It will be fitting timing, as we're just a week away from our 3-year wedding anniversary. The house is still on the market, so it still feels like it's "ours" and I'm hoping to be able to get some closure.

On My Mind

- I'm annoyed because I have a pretty bad blister on my left ankle. I got it thanks to what I'd hoped would be a comfortable, cute pair of sneakers. Instead, they tore up my feet in less than 10 minutes. I wonder if an 8 would be any better (I wavered between buying 7.5 or 8 in the shop). I love the mustard color so much I would be willing to break them in, but I want to do the least amount of suffering possible.

- I worked out with my personal trainer and then went for a run with my friend E. this afternoon. Recently I made the leap from doing intervals of running/walking to just straight jogging with no breaks. It is quite exciting. We go running around Lake Merritt which is 3.1 miles, and usually can do one loop around without stopping. Not today, however. My blister got in the way and crippled me about 3/4 of the way through. I was really frustrated, but some run is better than no run.

- My week in Mendocino was life-changing. It's the first time I've felt truly validated as an artist, and I had a really good time teaching as well. I was the studio assistant for a chasing and repoussé workshop taught by a total master. He's one of these people who seems to deliberately avoid an online presence, so I won't call him out here. He's amazing, though. I felt like I was taking a workshop from Morgan Freeman in his role as God.

- The Mendocino trip was good because I feel it centered me, helped me put things into perspective. I will need to draw on this for the next four weeks.

- Rico and I are going to Brazil on Thursday. It will be a great trip for many reasons, but it will also be an emotionally and physically exhausting one. We are selling Casa Rosa, and need to clear out all the furniture and see what we want to ship back here. We need to find a place for the woman who looks out for the house to live, and a way to get her a monthly stipend since she doesn't qualify for social security yet and has health issues that prevent her from continuing to work. We need to say goodbye to the house, which will be heart-wrenching for me, but in the big scheme of things what I recognize is the best way forward. I anticipate coming back from Brazil feeling very, very, very drained. I hope that's not the case, but if I learned anything in Mozambique it's to start with low expectations and go from there.

- I wish I were a bit tanner and a bit thinner prior to going down to Rio.

- I also wish I had more time to be in studio, as I'm just dying to work but don't really have time to finish anything (or really even get started) before we fly South.

- Hazy, the neighbor's cat who adopted our house for a brief period some months ago, came back for a visit. I was in the garden picking strawberries when he appeared by my side, seemingly out of nowhere. We were so happy to see each other. I really love this cat, even though he's not ours. When we first met him, we thought he was a stray and even took him to the vet to have his microchip scanned. That's how we found out Hazy belonged to our neighbors. About a month ago they moved to Hawaii and didn't take the cat. He's now being taken care of by another neighbor, but I think he's meant to be ours and that's why he keeps coming back and being so loving. He's such a beautiful boy, a soft gray tabby who is endlessly friendly and playful. He reminds me of Parceiro.

On the way back I'll be 640 pages lighter

We made it to Brazil without incident and are currently enjoying a few days of the good mountain life in Monte Verde, Minas Gerais.

The route we flew was fantastic, a new flight LAN started offering in July. It's billed as a direct flight from San Francisco to São Paulo, but there is actually a refueling stop in Lima. You get out of the plane in Peru, go through security, have enough time to pee and buy some water, then get back on board. In all, it's 9 hours on the first leg, then 4 on the second. Definitely recommended for people flying down to Brazil from California.

On the plane, I read "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" from cover to cover. I don't think I've ever read so much, for so many uninterrupted hours, in my entire life. Doing the math, I was averaging about 50-60 pages per hour. The book was fantastic, and I can't wait to read the next one in the series. Hopefully I'll find someone in Rio who wants to read the book, and I'll buy a replacement copy for my mom once we're back in the US. That baby takes up a lot of precious space!

Rico and I have been enjoying our time in Monte Verde immensely. This is where we really have the opportunity to have a vacation while in Brazil. We're up in the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, with no obligations or people to see for several days. Our time will be spent eating delicious food (Rico's dad is a professional chef, among other things), drinking vintage wines, running along trails and hilly dirt roads, getting massages at the spa at Rico's dad's hotel, and sleeping. Lots of sleep.

Then, once we're feeling duly rejuvenated, we'll head to Rio to deal with all the pending issues that come from owning a home in one place and living in another continent entirely. We haven't been back to Rio since March 2009, and the to-do list regarding the Casa Rosa is, unfortunately, a long one.

We're also looking forward to attending Rico's cousin's wedding, to which I will be wearing a very loud, very neon-red, very va-va-voom formal dress. That is if my arse hasn't doubled in size from a miscalculation of the gourmet food: running ratio during our week in Monte Verde. :)

Speaking of clothes, so far the carry-on suitcase capsule wardrobe has treated me quite well. I'm trying to photograph my outfits so you can see what kind of a toll efficient packing has on fashion. Hopefully the trade-off is minimal!

Tonight at dinner (mandioquinha soup, cassoulet, pear confit), I sold my Fiesta trade bead bracelet off my wrist to one of Rico's dad's friends. A very unexpected sale, but one that left me super happy. It's always such a thrill to tell someone about the Mozambique Island trade beads I'm so fascinated by and have them "get it". It's moments like this I must remind myself of when the accounting and website updates and creative droughts get to me.

Pink!

It was hard not to fill this post exclusively of photos of the Casa Rosa and our wedding. Apparently I am a big fan of pink in all its shades for the things close to my heart. :)

Beach chic at La Perla guest house - Bilene, Mozambique

Other-worldly sunset as seen from the upper deck - Casa Cali

Casa Rosa on our wedding night - Rio de Janeiro

Verandah waiting to be filled with wedding guests - Casa Rosa

Vanilla cake with apricot and brigadeiro branco filling - Heaven, Sublime

Dragon fruit on the Mekong Delta - Vietnam

My custom-made sun dress, appropriately worn on a tour of a brick factory - Can Tho, Vietnam

Floating luxury accomodations - Ha Long Bay, Vietnam

Temple detail - Bat Tran, Vietnam

Love on the streets of Santa - Rio de Janeiro

Purple

A favorite color of mine as of late, especially the lilac-y, amethyst hues...and yet funny because I have almost no photos that feature purple. I'm tempted to paint my home-office walls a brownish purple but haven't found the exact shade I want quite yet. Perhaps that will be my spring break project, along with learning how to use QuickBooks Premier Edition. The former obviously more fun than the latter.

On the beach along the Garden Route - South Africa

Jacarandas in bloom (taken through the car window) - near Chipinge, Zimbabwe

Street art in Santa Teresa, Rio de Janeiro

Tara modeling my jewelry in the midst of lavender in our garden - Casa Cali

Passion flower - one of my favorites from the street vendors in Maputo

Antique French wall sconce against light orchid bathroom wall - Casa Rosa, Rio de Janeiro

Giant beached jellyfish - near Cape Town, South Africa

Recycle-chic placemats at a guesthouse in Bilene, Mozambique

Carpet of asters - Pacifica, California

Making paper-thin rice flour wrappers for spring rolls - Can Tho, Vietnam