BRAZIL, HOW I LOVE THEE. . .

LET ME COUNT THE WAYS !

Ever wake up and ask yourself, "how did I get here?" Well, I know how I got here. I wrote about it in my last post which I must say turned into a much too long post. I had intended to split it into two posts. Needless to say, I'm okay with a pencil and a paintbrush, but computers aren't my forte.

The real question is. Why did I come here, and the answer is an on-going daily experience of my life here in Brazil. To begin, I retired from a good paying job, to a poor paying pottery studio in my garage. Sitting at the wheel creating mostly utilitarian pottery, bowls, cups, pitchers, etc., I had time to remember my forgotten dreams. Some of those dreams were to explore the world, live by an ocean, and or make a living as an artist. While married the dream was to retire to Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula on the Caribbean. However, that dream was dashed with the death of the marriage. I began my "exploration" with a move from Idaho to Florida. Not exactly a worldly move, nevertheless a beginning. Before I could get a pottery studio set up in the newly acquired garage attached to a house in Florida, my son Pat offered an opportunity to adventure a little further south. So initially you see, my first reason for moving to Brazil was 'because I could'!

We landed in Sao Paulo at midnight, with 5 cats. Remember? We expected to be met by a Taxi Driver dispatched from Itanhaem a small coastal town a couple of hours from Sao Paulo. He was almost 3 hours late. The Currency Exchange booth was closed due to the hour which meant we had no Brazilian currency, we couldn't even call Pat's girlfriend who had assured him that the Taxi would be there to pick us up. We didn't speak the language and found no one who spoke English. We tried to remain calm, wondering if we'd been bamboozled. At last a driver emerged from the shadowed parking lot. The Taxi ride from Sao Paulo is one that will linger in my mind as the most hair raising event of my life. I truly believe he was Kami Kaze trained. The only reason we reached Itanhaem without being rear-ended or broadsided or simply run over by a big diesel fueled semi-truck was because God heard my desperate pleas to not let us die on some Sao Paulo freeway. There were moments out on the open freeway when I relaxed enough to feel the warmth of the humid air and smell the ocean even though I couldn't see it. Life in Itanhaem was simple. We lived with Pats girlfriend Ana and her two children in a small neighborhood which boasted 5 churches in a 4 block radius and 6 small neighborhood bars, which were open to the street not having a door or even a front wall. Just up the street from where we lived was Chitaus, a very small corner bar. Everyone we met there were so friendly and gracious and most curious about we "foreigners"! I dubbed it "Cheers".

The first thing (after hating that Taxi driver) I lovaed about Brazil was Music. There is always music. On Wednesday night, Sunday morning and that evening, I could sit on the wide veranda on my little wooden bench and listen to the lovely choirs of the various churches. On Friday and Saturday night I sat on my little bench and listened to the live music from the local bars. There was the mother next door who sang, harmonizing with her small children. On the other side, the home was owned by people who lived in Sao Paulo, but their teenage son would bring his friends down for the weekend and eventually they would all wind up sitting around the pool singing for hours. Rose and Barboza lived across the street and she had several birds who would break out into bird song every day. Street vendors selling everything from ice cream to the wonderful homemade bread and candy and bottled water sang as they made their way down the street.

My first impression, my first love of Brazil is the music. I can hear it without turning on a radio or T.V. Music from the streets or the open air concert halls or the churches and little neighborhood bars or music wafting from the windows of our neighbors. The music of a small town on a Brazilian coast. My reasons for loving Brazil are many and I hope to explore them in subsequent posts. Dance to the music, - if you will.

SHE WHO DANCES WITH CATS

A Cat Tale...When you were growing up, didn't you know someone in your neighborhood who was knows as "that weird old cat lady"? I think that was me. I have always loved cats. When I was about 5 I moved with my parents from a small town to a ranch about 120 miles away. We, of course, took my little white kitty whose name was Nina. About a week after settling in Nina disappeared. I cried and cried. Then the neighbor down the road offered a little kitten to me and I wasn't so sad anymore. Two months later, my sister Aleene (who was a lot older than me) wrote to Mama to tell her that Nina showed up on their doorstep. She and her husband JC had moved into the house we vacated. Nine had traveled over 100 miles to go back to her home. I didn't start out to have 5 cats, it just happened that way. When I made the decision to move to Brazil it was never a question whether or not my cats would go also. My son Pat argued with me to no avail. Naturally, I won out. So when he made our reservations with TAM Airlines, he also made reservations for the cats. All 5 of them. We learned that they only needed their Rabies shot to enter Brazil. The vet gave them all a shot and good advice on traveling so far with them. We arrived at Miami International several hours ahead of time with luggage and 5 cat carriers. People standing in the lines or just walking around gathered around the carries and were ooohing and aaaawing over the beautiful cats. They had been given a mild sedative recommended by the vet, so were nonplussed by all the attention they were getting. This is good, because my cats had never been around strangers and would have freaked out otherwise. So far the beginning of our trip to Brazil was off to a good start That is until we reached the ticket counter. Pat explained we had reservations for the cats. "Okay", she said and clicked away on her computer. She looked over the counter and said "how many cats do you have"? Five, we have five cats. "Oh nooo! You can't have five cats. There are only two cats allowed per flight"! No, No, Pat said, we made reservation with Tam for the five cats. "You are mistaken, Tam only allows 2 cats per flight". No Ma'am I'm not mistaken, this is verified, we have five cats and we five have reservations. "Sorry, only two cats per flight". LOOK LADY. . ."excuse me a moment", and she left the ticket counter. She returned shortly with her supervisor to back her up. "Sorry, folks, Tam allows only 2 cats per flight". Now, I'm getting edgy and so is the crowd who had been admiring the beautiful cats. Her supervisor fled the scene and by now I in full-throttle panic. We are trying to decide what I am going to do when we are approached by a short round mad with a busy mustache dressed in a black suit and black tie. He said he understood we had a problem, but there was nothing that could be done. Only two cats per flight. We looked him in the eye and said what are we to do, we had reservations for all five cats and now you tell us we don't and that we can only take two of the five cats with us. Are we supposed to just board the plane leaving 3 drugged cats in carriers sitting in the middle of your airport floor. I'm sure the newspapers would love to here this story. You know the one where TAM Airlines abuses cat owner who wants to fly to Brazil. "Okay, Okay lady, I shouldn't do this but it will cost you $300.00 U.S. dollars to put them on your flight." Pat began to walk away, wait Pat, wait, 300 dollars isn't so bad. "No, no, lady that's 300 dollars each cat! That did it! Pat suddenly evaporated right there into thin air. The crowd is looking uglier and I mustering up tears as big as a house. Two of them dropped and the crowd is now beginning to mutter in angry tones and the fat man is looking at the floor. I had decided to throw myself on the floor writhing and screaming until he relented, when he looked up at the the mean faces in the crowd, looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, turned to the ticket agent and said put those blankety blank cats on the plane and get her and her cats out of here, NOW. A cheer went up from my faithful standing gallery and I ran to catch a plane already boarding. I got to the gate still in panic mode because I didn't know where Pat was. I looked and there he was standing at the gate. All the way to Brazil he muttered for a full 8 hours how he would never ever travel with me and five cats again. WELL BITE YOUR TONGUE SONNY BOY! Fast forward to the boarding counter at a busy Sao Paulo airport. Once again we are standing in a very long switch-back line and again we have attracted friendly Brazilian who are talking about what beautiful cats we have. This time though I have backup since Ana is now traveling with us. Being Brazilian and having made all the reservations, not only for us but, yes you got it, five cats boarding that airplane should be a breeze. Not! Oh no! We are flying TAM Airlines again? I had a lump in my throat and butterfly's in my stomach. Not to worry Ana said, I have all the verifications for the cats. Oh be still, my heart. I wanted to pull a Pat Disappearing Act. But, figured he would and I couldn't leave Ana alone. Ana had booked two flights. Pat on one with two cats, leaving one hour ahead of us and Ana and I on the second flight with three cats. According to the ticketing agent this was no problemo. Pat and Jessie and Goldie where checked in and ready to go. Then it was our turn. STOP FRAME, ROLL BACK to..."How many cats do your have?" Three, we have three cats. "No, no, Tam allows only two cats per flight. I was a little better off because it all happened in Portuguese and I couldn't understand most of the heated conversation. ENTER SUPERVISOR...only this supervisor was a female. I purposely did not use the term lady, because lady she was not. She entered on an elevated walk-way directly behind the ticketing agents. She did not smile. Brazilian are extremely animated conversationalists and I was mesmerized - back and forth, back and forth the conversation went. Again it was over the reservations, that how somehow disappeared from the computer. Supervisor: "There is nothing in the computer to indicate you made reservations." Ana: Here are the confirmation #'s for the reservations. Supervisor: "There is nothing in the computer to indicate you made reservations." Finally, Pat entered the fray. But Supervisor Lady was having none of that. She bent way over the counter, remember she is standing on her dais, and looked him straight in the eye and said "one more word for YOU and I am going to call the police!" A ticket agent who was on break went to Pat and told him his plane was boarding and he needed to run to catch it. EXIT PAT...good thing too. So now we are back to square one. We were told we could have Murphy and Annie in the same carrier. "No, no, Supervisor Lady said, Annie had to have her own carrier". It is now midnight, we missed our flight and Ana has to take a taxi to go somewhere to buy a cat carrier for Annie. Out of this our darkest hour Ana connects with a Taxi driver who knows right where there is an all night pet store open!! Wonder of Wonders. In the mean time there is a shift change and when Ana gets back there is a new supervisor who wants no trouble on her watch. She arranges new tickets for the last flight leaving in 15 minutes for Ana and I and our THREE cats. Oh Praise be. We get to the security check and we can see people boarding the plane when I am stopped because I have a small bag of scissors in my carry on. Ana is faster than me, she runs it all the way back to the ticket counter to get it tagged for luggage. When she gets back, security makes us open the already open air carriers and remove each cat. There are now no more persons boarding the plane. Security was not focused on our plight of missing yet another plane. Finally, we were passed through and with 3 cat carriers, 2 large carry on bags a case with my 35mm camera and a brief case plus our purses we ran...well, we tried to run to the gate. Fortunately, an attendant saw us lumbering toward him and held the gate open for us. BACK TO REAL TIME...We arrive at the small Pousada we had booked and Pat was already there. He glared daggers at me and without saying hello ir how are you, he said Never again, I will never ever travel with you and your cats again. After that he didn't speak to me for a solid month. The moral of this story? Ticket agent who say more that two cats have reservations, no problemo - lies! "...To Dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon." T.S Eliot - Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats"

Back in the Groove

Hello to Ohio

I've never been to Ohio, and am pretty sure I won't visit there during the winter. Let's see. ice storms, snow storms, rain storms and lightning storms. Did you have hail storms? Can't remember if my good friend Barb said she suffered through a hail storm. Well just so you don't get the winter blues, I've posted some pictures to pick you up and remind you that the sun does shine somewhere in the world. It's past 5 o'clock and I missed my Caipringa. But tomorrow is another day, right? I finally finished my "Ascension" painting. I'm still trying to decided whether to call it "Ascension" or 'Rapture". Sorry about the angle. Couldn't redo it, my camera batteries are running weird and its a trek clear around this huge city to buy more at Igatemi Mall. You should be able to click on it to enlarge. I also completed the commissioned painting I've been working on for the Christian book cover. I haven't submitted it to the author yet, waiting for an expert opinion from friend Barb. She seems to keep me on the straight and narrow. Visit her blog at http://www.barbarasailor.blogspot.com/. Her paintings are wonderful. Of course, she's just a little bit "wacky", (how else can we be friends), she's just completed a painting of a lady's face she discovered in the tile of her bathroom floor. Check it out - you won't be disappointed. I'm being told that spring is on the way in the states which is good. I was asked today, now that we are going into fall if the foliage changes, or if there are noticeable changes. None that I have seen, other than a bit more rain, which causes the humidity to rise. Haven't discovered the name of these trees that have the largest leaves I believe I've ever seen. They drop, but it seems within days they simply replenish what they lost. The trees are really beautiful and have a huge spread with bright red flowers. They remind me of the Mayan Fire Trees in the Yucatan Peninsula.

And yes it's me on the beach. Can't Dance if you don't try.

Monday

HAPPY ST. PADDY'S DAY !

SUNDAY'S DANCE

Easter is next Sunday. The earliest it's been in 220 years or so. The next time it will be this early will be in 2228. This is a unique event since no one has seen Easter this early before nor will our grandchildren and their children's children. A rather awesome thought. The commercial side of Easter has taken over as it has Christmas, but there are those who still go to church and celebrate Palm Sunday and Holy Week. Growing up our church celebrated Maunday Thursday with the Passover meal or the best duplicate with unleavened bread and other things that none of us kids liked. It was sparse and we were always upset at having to go. Just give us kids good old PB&J. Didn't you as a kid always wonder why it was called "Good" Friday. Of course, we went to church, but as a kid what made our eyes pop was the pretty Easter Basket hidden behind a chair on Easter morning filled with marshmallow peeps and chocolate bunnies. Going to church on Easter Sunday was bearable because we knew there would be the Easter Egg hunt on the church lawn after services. There was also the new beautiful, store bought, Easter dress and brand new shoes. This was especially exciting for me, because new clothes was a once a year event at the start of school. And at that most of them were made by Mama which, of course, wasn't cool and the rest were ordered from "Monkey" Wards. I will completely date myself when I tell you that most of my shirts and even blouses were made from flour sacks. Now that really is the olden days! I digress. Back to Easter - eventually Easter became an important day, devoid of the bunnies and new clothes. Easter became a candlelight procession into a white Easter Lilly filled Church, singing "He Is Risen". Alleluia, a celebration of our risen Lord Jesus Christ. Easter became for me, Bible studies, serving on the church council, Bible studies in my home and managing the Agapé Puppeteers. Easter became a lifelong journey, one that will someday end in my transformation into that mysterious other world. Easter was the girder that held me up, when I received the phone call to tell me my oldest son had fallen on campus and could not be revived. Easter held me close when my youngest son called to tell me my next oldest son had passed away. Easter has been the structure of my life, my belief that my sons are in a better place and the basis of the daily prayers for my son Pat as he pursues his career as an underwater worker and that what we call heaven is indeed real. Easter is truly a day of Celebration. Dance I shall.

Saturday

Days End at Cumbuco Beach

Yes it was a long lunch and I must tell you I enjoyed it. We are still having much rain. It has cooled us down to the low 80's, but you can guess where the humidity level is! We have stayed mostly inside, venturing out only for a trek to the supermarket. Even so, the week seems to have rushed by and not a lot was accomplished I say with some guilt. But, on the upside, I am catching up on my reading. I received an email from a good friend who is a wonderful artist and lives in Nevada. She came to Nevada From Scotland, adapting to a western way of life and upon viewing her paintings you would think she was born and raised in the "land of cowboys'. Check out her paintings and bio on http://www.highlandartltd.com/ . I think you will be glad you took the time to browse through her paintings. Rain Dance, not

ANOTHER TGIF

"Out to Lunch"

"View From the Porch"

Save a Dance for me.