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Coming Back Home

18/12/2013

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Three years on the road. December 2010 I went out of an ordinary (and very cheerful) life to do what I’ve been recognizing, in those numerous children’s books, as an adventure.  I’ve been staying in some places not more than 3 days, I’ve been staying in others more than 3 months. I’ve been a monk, I’ve been a slut. I’ve been attacked and robbed, I’ve been saved and blessed. I’ve been sleeping in beds, hammocks, floors and sands. I’ve been in desperation and I’ve been in peacefulness. I took off bravely and I am coming full of fears. I took off knowing what I was doing and I am coming back without a single idea what I am going to do. I took off with a single heart, now I am coming back with two.

It is not a retrospection that I want to make. The journey was very personal as everybody’s journey is. Wherever. Inside or outside.

The following is no advice. No tips. No wisdom. It is an attempt to write a blog article with some thoughts I have in my mind coming to close a great adventure of mine.

If you ever go to Rio de Janeiro, go a couple of weeks before the carnival. It is like those few seconds before the climax, which are meant to be prolonged for they are the most pleasurable ones. And don’t forget Rio de Janeiro is not Brazil.

Stop learning English, Chinese is the last cry.

Buenos Aires is not the best place to go if you want to explore Latin America. Still is a damn good place to go.

Don’t try to be original. You are no one’s copy after all.

Bulgaria provokes three associations out of Europe – Stoichkov (watch out, not football), yogurt and gypsies. Be careful, you and your actions will be the forth to be added in someone’s notion of a whole nation. Generalizations are sticky and even wrong or partial, still they are important ready-mades most of the people use… we all use.

Read Sartre.

Share. Share if you have a problem, someone will have another point of view. Share if you think something’s wrong or something’s right. Ignorance is the worst thing I can see around me. On the road… or at home.

Don’t check ticket prices. Call me.

If you stay a more little bit in Cuzco, skip touristic plans, live there for a while and leave things happen it will happen exactly what you deserve to happen to you. In a different way than everywhere else. Cuzco is a mirror. It gives and it takes away exactly what it should be taken or given. Without a delay.

If you wanna write a book, take notes. Computers are fragile stuff.

Mosquitos eat you alive in Quintana Roo and Yucatan states in Mexico.

Don’t read Lonely Planet. The less you know, the better will be revealed before you. The planet is not lonely.

You won’t be felt more well-treated by any other but Colombians in Colombia. This is my generalization.

Listen to your body. And if you are fat, enjoy it fat.

A diamond is appreciated not exactly because of its qualities but because it is rare. So do the white race. It’s not a quality white people have ahead on. Neither a beauty nor intelligence. It’s been embarrassing experience for me being favorable because I am white. And favorable sometimes refers to robberies, whistling after and feeling as a strange element around the provincial streets. If you are white you don’t really have a lot to do about it but meet all its pros and cons without being an asshole to get advantage of it or to complain about it. And I know, it is a rasistic observation…

You can find really good yogurt in Mexico.

Look at the people’s eyes when talking. Sometimes they do not understand the words.

Good energy is your best immunity. However, you won’t have immunity to every shit.

The more fears you face the more new fears will come. But it is such a relief to have different fears in your life.

Ecuador is an under-estimated country in the map of Latin America. You will be delighted going there.

Do an annual check-up for your health. Seriously. I didn’t have a single caries before I left and now I have 17.

Do not keep what you read on the road. Books are not harmful stuff but a great load, which the flight company will overcharge.

Finally, whoever you meet, whoever you make love with, whatever you drink, whatever you see and pass thru, at the end everything you experience and everything is as it is only thanks to your imagination.

I am coming back home, by the way... 


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Conjuga-me II

18/7/2012

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Tu abres os teus olhos.
Eu abro as minhas pernas.
Nós abrimos os nossos corpos.

O coração está aberto.
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¡Que viva Latinoamérica!

14/5/2012

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7 months since I started my oversea journey. 

Todo me encanta.

Living on the coast of the ocean 
...and high up in the Andes.

I put a lot of laugh, i lot of tears, a lot of kisses, a lot of heart, a lot of courage, a lot of dreams, a lot of passion, a lot of tongues, a lot of freedom, a lot of spicies, a lot of dancing, a lot of music, a lot of magic, a lot of prays, a lot of breath.

Breath.

I am in love.

And I am going on.

Everything you can imagine is real.
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Rio. Epilogue.

10/4/2012

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copyright andré águas

There are places, which can possess you. Rio de Janeiro is the second place after Wadi Rum, Jordan, which entranced me with its beauty and vibe.


The couchsurfing: 20 days, 5 hosts: Hilton, Felipe, Tiago & Bruno, Vicente, Ivana. Five angels, who I sincerely thank for the trust and hospitality while I was walking around the city 9 hours per day in search for a job.

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I was looking for one thing, found another. I've been only hearing about him since he is the best friend of a great portuguese friend of mine. I was supposed to host him in Sófia in his round the world trip, but I missed the chance. Each of us knew the other tru the stories of our mutual friend but couldn't recognize each other when i went for a third time in a hostel in Copacabana to ask if there is a chance to work ... until we asked one another for our names. Rio was all about the madness of the carnaval, the exceeding sensual dynamic of the street, the language that I finally uncorked out of me, the stunning beauty of the city and the feeling of freedom in it.

And at the same time Rio was all about André.


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Playful fate. The hostel, which finally took me for a job on the 21st day of my arrival was 5 minutes away from André's hostel and to be easier there was a cheap boteco in the middle to get drunk into when both of our shifts ended at one and the same time in the afternoon.


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Ipanema beach. The beaches in Rio are not vast as those in the North. They are overcrowded and the water is freezing. But the people are beautiful and the view is unforgettable – mountains from all your sides while you are sitting on the beach, watching at the huge island in front of you, ploped into the ocean.


 
Great people I met in Wave hostel, where Cass and Sophie were my closest friends.

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curly blond Cass, charming Sophie, Gal and a friend of him in the foreground.
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Sophie and me in Pão de Açúcar
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Dave and Jason - guests in the Wave Hostel during the carnaval.
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minha doce sophieeee
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the greatest guests in the hostel during the carnaval.
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The pre-carnaval was already the most I had seen in terms of city night life. But the 7 days of the carnaval itself blew any pre-carnaval impression away. The most out-of-balance time I experienced in my life. 7 days Rio never closed eyes, never stopped playing music, never put normal clothes, never stayed sobre. 7 days full of gold cloth, gold piss and colorful feathers.




Found an opportunity to visit several times the groups in sambódromo during the pre-carnaval and once during the carnaval.


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Lapa. It is the neighbourhood with jazz, samba, bars, beer and caipirinha on the street. Again, it is not just a place where people meet up and drink. It is a whole neigbourhood where people meet up and drink. The tourists everywhere around the city are a lot but somehow Rio assimilates them and they are not that obvious. Lapa gives the impression of an almost totally local venue. Local boys bring instruments to play on while local girls dance around them. No one has a shame to flirt in a direct, very direct way.


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I was soaking Rio up like a sponge. Pushed myself to the limit. Days melted into weeks, weeks into months. I was constantly drunk and tired. The blocos (street parades, where a track with musicians and dancers is followed by the dancing crowd) started at 10 AM and finished at 6 AM. I was sleeping few hours a day, trying to maintain consciousness at work and keeping it on out in the streets. Basically, I was living in the streets of Rio. Sleeping in a dormitory second-floor bed didn't give me any personal space for reading, resting or doing whatever in peace. If not sleeping or working, the street was my home and the sand was my sofa.


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 And that is how I abused myself. At one time felt that I had to go away from Rio or i will die there.



I recalled the same time last year, when I was fasting in a desert tent away from people, artificial light and noise. And even I know that more is yet to come, a thought in my head uttered: “God gave me everything”.


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A whiff of Buenos Aires

7/4/2012

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Useful travel tip. If you have a flight with a stopover of several hours, check if you cannot extend your stopover and get the same connection flight 24 h later. Or 48. It depends on the company and the country but there is a chance to work it out without any penalty. This is what my Argentinian friend did for me and insert a short lovely holiday in Buenos Aires between Brazil and Perú.

Even though it was just a glimpse of the city, I enjoyed every single minute in it. BA feels like Western Europe. Old-architectured buildings, spruced up people of all ages (they would put Havaianas on their feet only on the way to the bathroom) , wide roads and pavements, parks literally on every corner, sunbathing and picnicing on the grass, bustling night-life spots more bar-concentrated. 

And a good friend in it with who I was in the same frequency whole 3 days. A rare state. 

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The end.
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Fortaleza. The city of a dream.

12/2/2012

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Fortaleza. There are important people and places that engraved only on my memory but no camera caught them. Gil, my two groups in Hospital Mental de Messejana, my groups in the numerous schools around the city, many little spots, many great moments, many little details.

Now living in Rio, I can set myself aside and compare. Fortaleza for me was the city of the hammocks, açaí, self-service cheap restaurants, vast beaches and forró.

This is what I finally have in photos:
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Friday SMS

22/1/2012

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Ya, well, it can be any other weekday, but statistically speaking it is more likely to be written or received on a Friday night, when all the week pressure is successfully drowned in litters of beer, wine, vodka or whatever makes your mind get empty.

Friday sms is a byword. A byword for your hidden or suddenly arisen desires toward a person, whose attractiveness comes to the fore in your drunk head and you are feeling an internal imperative to share with him what you want or how you feel. It could be: “take a taxi and come over me” or “i miss you here” or simply “heyyyy, you”. Sometimes more complicated, but usually silly, tasteless and pathetic.

Friday sms is all about love or fuck. Or love and fuck. The interesting part is that even blindly drunk you are actually aware of the one-way communication. You don't really expect an answer, you are doing it for the pure sake of straightforwardness. You know that you sound ridiculous but you don't give a damn. You do give a damn in the morning when while brushing your teeth a flashback bangs your head and with a tooth-paste foam on your mouth you rush into the bedroom to check in the sent items what foolishness you produced last night. Then you promise yourself, next time when you are drunk and light-minded to throw your mobile in the toilet and flush it out. Seriously, isn't it time a sms undo button to be created? Or a 6th sense mobile, which blocks the txt option when your breath starts attracting fruit flies.

I believe everyone at one time have been someones "Friday sms". But I know people who never send Friday sms no matter of the degree of their intoxication. Cheers to them, i admire you, guys!

I haven't been in love with noone in the recent several years, so luckily my friday txts appear to be less pathetic and respectively less embarrassing for me in the morning. Still I am wondering at the stupidity of the phenomena to txt someone when you are drunk.

Dear last night Friday sms of mine, if you are reading these lines, here's to you! Actually, I meant it. :)

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my 7 rules of being a nomad

13/1/2012

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More and more people are travelling around the globe out of business or touristic intention. Maybe you just finished high-school, have a gap year doing some volunteering or some personal reason leads you to settle down for a while in a different culture and climate. Whatever the case, if you are going to spend more than just a few weeks in one place, you are going to pass through the glamourous side of the land you cast the anchor, unveiling all its hidden beauties and beasts.

Here are my seven tips of staying calm and open to the new experience.
  1. Make it light. Don't overstuff your backpack. If you are travelling for half or one year, you cannot take everything you need. The less you take, the less you will need. It just works reciprocally. Maybe you will be lost or have to walk a long distance on foot to get to somewhere. You never know. The less burden on your shoulders, the more freedom on the road.

  2. Don't read travel books. This will build a particular picture in your mind how the things should look like and what you by no means shouldn't miss. If there is an expectation, there is a disappointment as well. Let things happen. You are going to understand on spot about the area around, you will be led to hidden or landmark venues by the local strangers your life is going to run into. The planet is not lonely. Let it happen your way without being wrongly prepared on what hasn't happened yet. All what it is important will get visible to you. It is useful however to know the season of the area.

  3. Accept invitations. Unless you really feel repulsion or suspicion toward someone, accept all casual suggestions you can afford - for a night out, for a walk, for a trip. Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God, says Bokonan. Usually the “fortuity” is what leads you to people you have to encounter and places you have to see. Embrace the chance.

  4. Eat local food, drink local drinks, meet local people. Your body is hardly adjusting the new climate, you are surrounded by people whose language in most of the cases you cannot understand and the transport, the streets, the behaviour, the whole living mechanism of the new place seem out of every known logic. Ok, give me a break - a MCdonald's sandwich, a can of Heiniken and an English-speaking co-fellow is turning back the ground under my feet. Fair enough. The worst thing you can do is to keep being surrounded by familiar “mainstays”. The best thing you can do is to take a deep breath and to unleash your senses. Taste how the new world feels like. You would never drink that local beer back home, you can never cook the food they sell in the streets and you can never be an outsider if you let the locals to interact with you. Inspite of any cultural differences God gave us common sense.

  5. Don't be afraid. The unknown opens a place for our fears. You can be afraid from poisonous bites, from criminal acts, from furious dogs, from getting lost, from staying hungry or shelterless. What I know for sure is that the Universe cannot understand what we want or what we don't. It somehows catches the intensity of the thought, no matter if it is a wish for or a fear from, you are probable to attract it likewise. Being afraid will also close your eyes to the beauties and gifts lurking behind the corner. Be mindful but minimize all your worries. Things will happen better having a restful heart.

  6. If something bad happens however, don't let yourself be down for a long. Don't extend it all over your upcoming experience. You are in a state of a constant change. One simple encounter can change everthing again to good. Zoom out the bad feeling with the belief that everything will take a good course again and try to stay open.

  7. Be respectful to the land and the people. Don't impose yourself. Your culture is not the best one, your religion is not the only one, your experience is not the richest one. Observe how the people around you behave, how they live, how they think and the magic of the journey will start …

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Rio. Prelude.

3/1/2012

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Той стъпваше предпазливо и намери мястото. Беше гол до кръста и носеше дебел картон. Сложи картона на ъгъла. Един от многото, казах си, които спят тук, в Бразилия, на улицата. След минута видях слабо, чернокожо, кокалесто момиче да ходи по същата улица. Беше полунощ. Никой не се разхожда по улиците по това време. След шест вечерта, когато тук вече е тъмно, тъй като сме на екватора, никой не смее да се разхожда по улиците. Джебчийте владеят улиците. Всекидневно те пресрещат и ти взимат малкото, което имаш. Джобни, телефон – стига. За днес.

Никой не се разхожда по улиците на Форталеза. Особено днес, когато има стачка на полицията. Хайки се събират накуп и обират магазини, защото няма полицаи по улиците. Всички магазини днес бяха затворени с решетки и не работеха, защото се страхуват от организираните хайки. По новините се тръбеше, ако могат гражданите да не излизат навън. След двумесечна работа по фавелите, където се срещнах с картини, които по най-смелите бразилските филми са цензурирани, ги послушах и не излязох. Останах у дома и с бедната си заплата бавно пиех това, което разпознавам като португалско виньо верде. И си пуснах Пати Смит.

Момичето не се страхуваше. Пристъпи към мястото, където той си направи легло от кашоните. Ясно, тя е неговото момиче. Тя е момиче на улицата. Няма от какво да се страхува.

Вечер, когато по тъмно решавам да извървя километъра до океанското крайбрежие, за да тичам или да се разхождам, излизам без нищо, само малко ключе от къщата си в джоба на панталона. На връщане, ако по тъмните улички срещна съмнително разхождащи се причакващи типове, рецептата е ясна. Започвам да ровя по кофите. Тогава те ме подминават без дори да ме загледат. Аз съм една от тях, която търси храна. Апропо, намерих си някои интересни неща из боклуците, които си взимах у дома.

Момичето подмина мястото, където той бе уредил леглото им. Разходи се няколко преки по-напред, търсейки вероятно друг кашон или нещо, с което да се покрият. Не намери нищо и се върна. Легнаха си и тъмнината ми попречи да проследя всичко по-нататъшно. Онова, което почувствах беше тяхната свобода.

Бях напуснала работа вчера и имах три дни да напусна онова, което сега се нарича мой дом. Без да знам посоката, без да имам никой, никого и нищо.

Почувствах тяхната свобода и я приех за своя. Вероятно привидно. Вероятно не. Това беше момента, в който им подсвирнах и изхвърлих вещите си през прозореца. Оставих компютъра, на който пиша това, седнала на стълбището между първия и втория етаж, където хващам нечий сигнал в сградата, където все още се намира дома ми. За още три дни. С лекота на гърба си и на сърцето си, заминавам за Рио.
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Cambuco

29/12/2011

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Two months and a half since I am in Brazil and I never went out from Fortaleza. It was about time. I visited a charming village neraby - Cambuco. With the most charming company :)
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    A world is a book, which I am writing travelling and discovering that anything goes in a path full of miracles. Beast or an angel - it is up to you. My greatest life affair is just to keep on walking with respect.

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