BFF

This girl and I have been traveling around the world together for 15 years already, and I hope we never stop. This time I brought her to Venice as a surprise. So far it's been pretty perfect.

 

 

Amici di Ballo

Tonight I went out with a group of new friends to a salsa, bachata, and kizomba party. It was in a town about 40 minutes away from Gorizia, and we caravaned there in the pouring rain. It was super fun to go to a party and have an adventure, even cooler to be doing so as part of a crew.

My friends - miei amici - are the people I've met through the dance school I found on my trip here back in February. It's called Arte Danza and they have a bit of everything - latin ballroom, zumba, pilates, breakdancing. It's been a lot of fun going to classes, and good exercise too.

Dancing salsa, bachata, and kizomba with a bunch of Italians has been an interesting experience. Most of them have learned at dance schools/courses and are firmly familiar with a set of patterns and partners. My observation (both from being a sometime student in said classes, as well as on the dancefloor tonight) is that this tends to cause weaker male leads and lots of female back-leading. Consequently, it can be hard to follow if you're not part of the in-crowd...but still a ton of fun. Also contributing to the challenge is the fact that most people here are learning Cuban-style salsa (as opposed to salsa de linea), which for me is way harder to follow and make flow.

In all, a very worthwhile experience. I imagine at the end of the month I'll feel a lot lighter on my feet, more in sync with my dancing friends, and more like I know what I'm doing.

And then, likely, I'll come back to my Bay Area salsa/bachata/kizomba scene and feel a little off! Hahaha...

Geneva 2015

At the tail end of September, Rico and I went to Geneva for a mini-reunion of Mozambique friends. Kelly and Marcos, our fellow American-Brazilian couple, have been living there for about a year, as has Helen, our badass friend who heads up land mine removal operations. Europe's geography helped out the reunion effort, as Brighton-based Jenny was able to fly down for a few days with no problem.

It was a much-needed get together. Nothing like old friends to make you feel all is right in life, and to give you objective but well-founded perspective on your current concerns and opportunities. Us girls held a Council of Elders and basically advised each other on the Major stuff: relationships, career, family, health. The boys also had boy time, which I imagine was just as satisfying. 

Amid all the talking, we managed to squeeze in some leisure. Kelly and Marcos, who hosted us, actually live just over the border in France. I neglected to take any photos, but their house is right next to some lovely agricultural fields beyond which are the Alps in the distance. I went running along tractor paths that criss-cross the fields, through corn and kale and what looked to be radishes. There were self-serve farm stands with pears and quince and apples, and signs for a co-op vineyard with local wine.

Interestingly, the farm roads I was running on actually crossed the border into Switzerland but save for a sign saying you should have an ID on you, it was an almost imperceptible passage. Borders were on my mind a lot during the trip: who can cross them, who can't, and how unfair it often seems.

We only had a short few days in Geneva, but we managed to get in some tourism. One afternoon we cruised the lake in an old paddleboat and had lunch in their chic on-board dining room. All along the perimeter of the lake there were gargantuan old world mansions with manicured grounds, which Marcos told us cost a cool 50 million Euros.

Apparently Geneva is up there as far as real estate prices are concerned, and that was definitely the feel I got being in the city: that it is a place for the well-off. With the UN headquarters there, as well as many other international development organizations, there is a bubble that brought flashbacks of Maputo. The people working to help the world's least fortunate often have a cost structure and lifestyle that is among the world's most expensive. Irony at its finest, for sure.

Anyhow, the boat was lovely as was the wander around old town that we took after lunch...

On our last night, we went out to a fancy Michelin-starred restaurant called La Ferme de l'Hospital. Innovative food, well-curated atmosphere, but also one of the biggest shocks of this trip: only the men at our table were given menus with prices. Us ladies all had menus with descriptions of the food but no prices.

The assumption about gender roles left me drop-jawed. If we had been a table of all heterosexual couples, maybe I'd have been mildly offended but let it go. What really perplexed me was that we were four ladies and two men. So were Rico and Marcos supposed to also pay for Helen and Jenny (who have boyfriends of their own back home?) What if there were a lesbian couple at the table, would the more masculine-seeming lady have received a menu with prices? Or would the men still be "expected" to pay? What if a table of all ladies came to eat?? I was incredibly shocked at this old-fashioned gender BS, but my dining companions had all seen it before and thus it was less of a thing for them...Gender issues aside, the meal was delicious and ridiculous in the way that 7-course formal dining usually is. 

The next morning we said our farewells and headed to the airport to continue our vacation. Actually in the airport I had my #2 shocking experience of the trip. We checked in to our flight and were only asked for boarding passes, no ID. We went through security, and still no ID. Boarding the plane we went through an automated gate that scanned a bar code on our boarding pass.

As an American used to US security routines, this was shocking to me. How on earth could it be possible in 2015 to board a plane all willy-nilly with just a cell phone boarding pass and no positive ID that you are actually the person traveling? I understand that within the Schengen countries there is free movement of people and goods, but it was shocking to experience it in an airport. I guess land borders seem more anti-climactic as far as unhindered passage. Also, it brought up thoughts again about who can freely move between countries and who can't. So much seems linked to money, privilege, and xenophobia. Lots to question, and lots to be grateful for.

Next stop: Croatia!

Angel in the Bay

We had a visit last week from my college best friend Angel and her man João. They live in Houston, he is Portuguese, she is ridícula. :) Angel and I have been friends for 16 years and through thick and thin. I love when she visits because I feel so totally like myself! It was her birthday, and she got engaged, and we all had a great time hanging out.

Spring Show Opening Reception

Braving the Elements

Last night Rico and I joined our neighbors at the Bridge School benefit concert. The weather wasn't the best, but we got out the rain gear and blankets and made the most of the evening.

Since school rules my life these days, Rico and I decided to head home early because I needed to do some paint mixing exercises and study for my art history midterm. We missed Pearl Jam, which I'm gutted about, but were able to see some great artists including Neil Young, Lucinda Williams and Jackson Browne.

One Year

A year ago today, Rico and I left Mozambique after having lived there for 5.5 and 4.5 years respectively. It hardly seems possible. That memorable last day feels at once decades away, and yet as fresh and palpable as last week.

I am having a moment of nostalgia as I remember our time in Maputo, in particular. We were part of such a wonderful social group, and it saddens me to think that these people are in our past, that we will never be together again. Most of our closest friends have already moved on from Mozambique, on to new contracts and new lives, be it at "home" or in a different country, a different adventure.

I reminisce fondly, and with massive saudades, about all of the house parties, the road trips, the late afternoon coffees and weekend sundowners. In particular I miss my fabulous girlfriends: Jenny, Kelly, Helen, Zahra, Anel, Lindsey, Claudia, Evy...the list goes on.

I always used to think it was hard to make friends in Mozambique, and in all fairness it really was. People always coming and going, tricky relationships between expats and locals, cliques determined by country of origin and/or place of work. However once you managed to establish a friendship, you could be sure long-lasting bonds would be formed in record time.

Making friends here in the Bay Area has been slow-going, and in some ways even more difficult than in Maputo. We've established really nice relationships with our neighbors - most of whom are in their 40s and 50s - but it's been challenging to make friends our own age. Much of the time I feel like a fish out of water when it comes to being social, in particular with "peers". I have some friends from my high school days in New Mexico, but for the most part they live at least an hour away and I see them very infrequently.

When it comes to friendships, I am definitely of the "quality over quantity" philosophy, and am content to primarily hang out with Rico, my mom and our neighbors. However, there is part of me that aches to have girlfriends again, ones who live in the same city and who I can call up to have a spur-of-the-moment drink, or invite to dinner full well knowing that the house is a mess and we are eating leftovers, just because the pleasure of their company is so desired.

I remind myself that it took a good 2 years for me to feel like I had friends in Mozambique. I'm sure that at some point I'll look back on this post and find it hard to remember what it was like *not* to have a close girlfriend or two near Casa Cali. But today, on this anniversary of a great change in our lives, I find myself wishing that I could turn back time and spend just one evening with my friends in Maputo.

First Day

Tomorrow I have my first day of orientation for new undergraduate students at CCA. It's been such along time since I've had this feeling - the mix of nervousness, excitement, anxiety and curiosity that accompanies the first day of going to a new school. I wonder what my future classmates will be like, if there will be anyone in the jewelry program who is remotely my age, if I will be looked at as the cool older girl who has traveled the world and has fun stories, or as the lame old girl who is painfully out of touch with all things current and fashionable. I wonder what outfit I'll wear - the *real* source of agony for the first day :) - what shoes will look cute but be sufficiently comfortable for my 7-block walk from the subway to campus, whether I should bring an umbrella or a notebook or snacks or my portfolio, just in case.

At least the first day of school means that likely everyone is in the same nervous boat...

I remember the last time I had a first day at school. It was in 2000, at Ibmec (Wikipedia page in English here), the business school in Rio where I eventually ended up meeting Rico, as well as the friend who was responsible for convincing each of us to move to Mozambique. I was 18 at the time and had just moved to Rio two weeks earlier. I knew exactly one person in the city - a friend of a friend of a business associate of my mom's - who had kindly helped me check into a cheap but safe hotel in Flamengo neighborhood. I remember sitting alone in my room at Hotel Florida, watching a novela on tv, driving myself crazy with anxiety wondering if I'd manage to a) find the subway station in Flamengo, b) get off at the right stop downtown, and c) find the skyscraper in which the school was located without getting lost, getting mugged, or having a breakdown.

I managed, of course, and almost immediately met an equally nervous girl who ended up becoming one of my best friends. How was such a quick bond formed? In the midst of one of the swankiest, richest, chic-est environments ever, she and I were the only students wearing Havaianas flip-flops and carrying backpacks. The rest of the girls were all about designer purses, manicured nails and high heels. Which is funny, because my style is more like those girls now than I could have ever anticipated.

Anyhow, here's hoping I have the good luck at orientation to meet a nice, "old" (i.e. born before 1985) girlie-girl who loves fashion, dancing and travel, and who feels similarly in need of a new friend.

Making Connections

I love it. I just answered an email from a guy who is from the Bay Area, lives in Brazil, is in Nigeria currently, and is doing a spontaneous trip to Maputo in a few days. I gave him tips on what to do in the city, where to stay, what delicious things to eat.

I am continually amazed at what has happened to my circle of friends as a result of my blog. Rico and I have been lucky and/or destined to meet some incredible people through this medium. J, who became our very-best-friend and was my maid of honor at our wedding; M and K, our mirror-couple in terms of nationality who now live in our old apartment; C and D, (who technically we met thanks to my jewelry work) who are front and center in this special group; T and M who have become my source for current Maputo blogging; M and D who hosted us in Joburg several times; J who I met in Rio and is a fellow jeweler and writer (and was also meant to be in our wedding until she got sick, poor thing; J and J, the sisters in France who feel like friends from long ago; Tia L who became our roommate in Maputo; B who hosted us for some badass churrascos; A and M, who were very close to us right from our first dinner together...

Seriously, the list goes on. It also isn't meant to be exclusive of anyone. There are many other fine friends out there - some of whom I've met, some I havent - who will appear in future posts, to be sure.

I'm Already Home

Now that the holidays are drawing to a close, many friends who traveled away from Mozambique to see their families or have an adventure in tourism are now heading back "home". It's very strange not to be going back to Maputo with the rest of them.

I read on Facebook about girlfriends' plans to meet up for basil mojitos, to have lunch at Zambi, to get caught up on the end-of-year gossip, and to meet the new babies in our group...and I feel so sad that I won't be joining them. Such is the life of the expat. You are eternally destined to be missing something, someone, somewhere.

I am incredibly happy to be in our Casa Cali, with Rico, establishing our new routines, setting goals for 2010, watching tv and working in the garden. It is the life I've always dreamed of, no doubt. But that is unfortunately no cure for the saudades that periodically fill my heart.

Retrospective and Resolutions

2009 was the year in which...

I (finally) decided to stop doing development consulting work.

I chose to become a full-time jewelry artist.

I worked the equivalent of 3 full-time jobs during our last months in Mozambique in order to make as much money as possible before the big career change.

I applied to and was accepted at the California College of Arts.

Rico and I decided to leave Mozambique and relocate to the Bay Area.

We bought and moved into our first house, Casa Cali.

We bought our first new car, a Subaru Outback.

I traveled to Brazil (Rio, Angra, São Paulo, Monte Verde), South Africa (Nelspruit, Kruger, Hazyview, Johannesburg, Barberton), Kenya (Nairobi), Mozambique (Bilene, Tofo, Macaneta, Nampula, Ilha de Moçambique), and the US (California, New Mexico).

In all, 2009 was a good year for me (and I believe for Rico as well). I know it was not that way for everyone, so I am particularly grateful for our blessings.

2010 will be the year in which...

I start regularly going to Nia and other dance classes again.

I get a massage at least once a month to deal with my recurrent back pain.

I launch my jewelry website, complete with new product lines and photos of models wearing my creations.

I get my jewelry into at least 3 retail shops/galleries.

I join the Point Richmond artists' cooperative.

I make the effort do my hair and makeup every day.

I learn to parallel park properly. Sigh.

I go to Houston, Providence and Boston to visit my dear friends Hannah, Kyle, Angel and my cousins AJ and Renaud.

Rico, Clauds, Dave and I go to Burning Man.

I actually use the phone to talk to the people I love in this world more frequently instead of only putting the poor thing to use as an alarm clock.

I paint the walls of my office a beautiful color.

2010 will be a year of hard work and changes, but I hope to reap great pride and happiness as a result. Best wishes to all of you for the New Year.