Handgliding Pictures

Pre flight preparations

a mountain of excitement

flight over mansions

Flight over mountains

Flight over beach

Flight over ocean no hands

Over the ocean straight ahead

Rips the straps and so Im dangling before landing

Landed and Alive - what a rush!

If You Stop We Will Die

Driving up a most narrow road with tree branches pounding the car as the driver continues beeping in order to notify downhill drivers of our presence, I start to pray. Am I really going to do this? We reach the summit and prepare ourselves - a bit crash course - which can be summed up with six words IF YOU STOP WE WILL DIE...

I take his words into serious consideration and start focusing really hard. I grab onto my guides straps and walk onto the platform. Stomach in knots - no real preparation time before he yells GO!

I sprint as hard as I can eyes completely on the horizon - if you look down you may stop - all of a sudden there is no more platform left and the massive green and white wings take over as we cut through the clouds over the entire city of RIO. The favella that I visited this morning holding over 200,000 people was on my left, beaches below, ocean in front, rainforest to my right and the wind is whizzing by at astronomical forces. I perch my arms out like a bird. We are so high, I can see helicopters and birds below. When was the last time you were on top of the birds flying - seeing their wings from above.

Its an incredible feeling and breathing in the air as we turn hard toward the ocean. Denario describes to me all that I can see including the mansions on the cliffs with their gynormous pools. Im starting to get a little fear of heights. All the straps hooked into me are really pulling and it feels that at any moment, someone is going to cut the cords. 15 minutes later he notifies me that we will be landing. Of course, there is a sudden extreme speed up directly toward the beach sand shores. Where are the brakes? Whistling in for our landing the sand seems to be moving faster than the landing strip at an airport. All of a sudden, he pulls out my straps and my feet go dangling as we come to a complete stop with my feet planted in the sand. WOW! Can we please do it again!

Handgliding over Rio - how many people can say that! I wanted to do this on my birthday but choosing a day with the right wind and sun conditions makes it all the worth waiting.

Pics of me actually in the air are on a disk that I bought but of course no disk option in the internet cafe. I will post it as soon as I can!

Tomorrows post: Walking in the Favellas with Machettes - this happened before handgliding, but I had to skip to the juice!

Party like its 1999

One of the biggest events in Rio and Brazil for that matter is their Football (soccer). And since Rios got one of the biggest stadiums - why not go to a game? Flamengo vs Internacional was the match and I went with a tour. Some random Brazillian guy in a green shirt screaming songs on the bus as we roll into the stadium parking lot high on Caprihnas (brazillian drink - very popular). They have a lot to live up to since I am a Penn Stater and we have one of the largest stadiums in the entire USA with some of the loudest fans in the world.

Entering the empty stadium and trailing down to our seats, we are only 5 rows from the 50 yard line. Great seats! I guess we will wait til it fills in with the fans. Hunger pursues and I decided to walk up to the food stands. Laughing hard as I try to order a cold packaged hot dog and non-alcoholic beer (thats all they had). The selection is hilarious. Only other option was a packaged chicken salad sandwich - the packaged sandwiches are huge here. At least the prices arent jacked, but boy do I wish I was at Yankee Stadium right now. Some homeless guy tries to get my reales as I find my seat.

I sit next to a New Yorker and we chat a bit - I buy a headband (1reales) - the stadium never fills up. Apparently Brazil played in the daytime vs Italy and everyone stayed home to watch that, plus it was Sunday and Sunday dinner is a big thing here as the brazillian people are a family oriented species. So the short version - it wasnt loud - it wasnt exciting and I was bored to the point of wanting to leave. What makes it worse! They dont have a timeclock anywhere. You never know how much time is left in the half or game for that matter. So ridiculous. Flamengo won (4-0) - apparently the more popular team. We Are! Penn State!

From there Pedro picks me up to bring me to a Favella Funk Party! Odd event! It is a massive stage and air conditioned dark room filled with extremely poor people partying like its 1999. Dont even bother trying to get a drink at the bar - they had one bar tender and probably close to 3,000 people in the place. It was interesting how happy everyone was - its just a way of life, but at the end of the party - everyone goes back to their Favellas - which is no way to live - its just horrible. I didnt bring my camera for obvious reasons here.

Days seem to meld together when you are on Rio Time - things dont really happen til about 2pm. So a typical day here is 2pm til 6am and back again. At least if you hang with Pedro and Marcello. Its an interesting culture, different from NYC as even the bands at the bars and clubs are still going til the early morning. Anyway, this schedule brought upon a cold for me that I am battling with ACAI, GRAVIOLA and my regimen of vitamins. I have kept it from getting out of control.

I had grand plans for my birthday - so excited to make it happen - but due to unforseen events it was not possible. Instead those plans have been moved to Friday. The secret continues. Instead, Pedro and Marcello take me to a beautiful house on a cliff overlooking the ocean (marcellos father bought this house in 1971 probably for peanuts, considering the cost now is around 8 million reales). I have been to some beautiful places in the world and even some wonderful houses overlooking oceans - but no picture will bring you to how I felt when I walked out to the great expanse of the entire ocean surround the cliff of this house. It is one of the most breathtaking places. I took tons of pictures and spent a lot of time just sitting on the many decks. Every bedroom in the house is overlooking the ocean but from a height the equivalent of a mountain. It was the perfect relaxing atmosphere to spend the daytime of my birthday.

A pasta meal was prepared for a late lunch followed by a deep nap. This location is a part of Pedro and Marcellos plans for their future entreprenuership. Maybe someday I will be able to rent it out for a party - but for now - Im here on my birthday and I will take in the views right now!

It was quite nice when Pedro and Marcello showed up for the night, with a gift for me - Johnny Walker Red - it was such a nice thought and the beginning of the second half of my birthday. It was an awesome low key samba band at a club called MELT. After intense negotiations with the door charge lady - dropped 40 reales to 20 reales so that we can get in, we waltz up the stairs just in time for the start of the band. I am a huge fan of brazillian music because of the brass. Trumpet, Sax and Trombone wailing away - and me dancing away. Of course in the front - of course terrible moves - but loads of fun. Hand slapping with the band members and sweating through my t-shirt, I find myself really enjoying myself. I didnt even have one drink the whole night. I gave Pedro and Marcello hugs thanking them for such a great time.

A little late night eat followed by 6 flights of stairs to my room - I slept like a baby with a runny nose.

Jesus Christ, Captain Morgan and The Festival of June

Christ the Redeemer or Cristo Redentor is quite an attraction here and a pretty impressive monument to Jesus Christ. Taxi to the base - Tram to the top - pictures - prayer - tram down - taxi back. It was a beautiful day and the entire view of Rio from the top is at times breathtaking. I felt privileged to get the opportunity to be there.

The rest of that day, I spent at the beach which is as advertised - packed with bikinis on women and MEN. Great waves - intense surfers and boogie boarders - the undertow is only possible for the strong. I rented a chair for 3 reales, opened my book The Celestine Vision and relaxed. A few of the hostel inhabitants were with me and we conversed in intelligent conversations about everything - one was a PHD - looked just like Captain Morgan.

One annoying thing about the Rio beaches is you will feel like you are at a Yankee game. There are thousands of vendors selling everything from bras to pineapples. From Sunglasses to ACAI. And they are agressively in your face. But, I did need sunglasses! I called the Jamaican looking dude over and the negotiation begins. EVERYTHING HERE is a negotiation lol. They start at 30 reales, I tell them I only have 12 on me. Then it drops to 25. I tell him I only have 12. He drops it to 20. I show him I only have 12. He sticks hard, must be his lowest. I borrow eight from Captain Morgan and the sale ends at 20 reales.

I think of my brother as the surfers begin to take long beautiful waves down the coast. The sun beats hard through the lotions. Hunger sets in and off with Captain Morgan to the Sushi place here (which by the way, if they recreated this one in NYC, those investors would be retiring within 2 years. First off, its phenomenal and second the way they prepare it with these random hand rolled conelike structures - just WOW!)

I say goodbye to my new friend - it always feels like forever. You feel lonely a lot on a trip like this because you are always making new friends and then leaving them. But its so hard to detach everytime. I hope this skill is a positive one that I am developing because right now I don't like it. Just being in the new hostel today as I write this is hard as I am lonely. Its smaller, less interaction. Thank God for Marcello!

I had to get back to the mango tree to check out and meet my friend who is brazillian and lives in Rio (connected through friend of my brothers fiance). Marcello - close to impossible to describe. Maybe best to say it as quiet, unassuming, 25 year old entreprenuer on Crack? He has just a tad of ADD:). From the moment I meet him we are off. Somehow we are dropping off Sothebys packages to gatehouses with hazards on in between our errands of getting me a local cell phone, eating ACAI with granola and some pastries at the same time as getting him ready to go on a trip by plane somewhere else in brazil. Conversations of The Power of Now and Celestine Prophecy - BROUGHT UP BY HIM! made me feel like we were supposed to meet.

Somehow we make end up in a class of Yoga at 7pm. If you didnt read correctly, YOGA! First off, I have never done yoga and probably because my body clearly isnt for it. Second, the instructor is speaking portuguese - Come on here! I grab a mat, some blocks and start to follow. HOLY (insert). Not only is it hard, sweating ensues and so does this random breathing. They always talk about the spiritual aspect and breathing but now I fully understand what this is all about. Just describe Yoga as breathing and we will get it. You are placed into positions that are extremely difficult - your muscles never have been in the situation so it feels like your whole body is lifting weights. The only way to stay in these positions is in the heavy breathing focus that starts to commence because you have no choice. What a workout! Shower in the gym (some high class BodyTech). Marcello hands me off to his friend and business partner Pedro and we dont see him again, crack is an understatement.

Pedro and I bounce on some errands of his to eventually pass along to me that we are going to the big Festival de Junho. As he casually mentions 110 reales entrance fee, I spit up my Coca Cola Zero (huge over here). I try to recover as he says, is that okay? I find a happy medium between, are you nuts? and you only live once.

How annoying, Im on the computer here in the hostel and the people who own the place are smoking right here. Im coughing - GET THE HINT!

Anyway, pre-gaming here is huge and we go to a liquor store to buy Black Label. A stop at Pedros parents place for a few things (Marcello and Pedro are coming from upper-middle class of rio so you should see the apartments overlooking the oceans). We make it to the base of Sugar Loaf where the streets are massed with people. Feels like a Penn State Tailgate but at night. Tons of 20's and 30's drinking in the street before getting in a huge cable car to take them up to the first level of Sugar Loaf - where the party is overlooking the Rio Lights. You can see the fully lighted Cristo across the whole lake. It is worth every cent of 50 dollars, especially since I didnt pay anything to drink. Pre-gaming!

Unfortunately the party ends at sunrise and you feel like you are in a casino - never know what time it is. I was quite shocked when I saw my watch. As great of a time it was, waking up in the hostel at 230pm and realizing you had a double cheesburger of drunk food at the random dohickey shack - nothing can be more maddening. I am quite happy I didnt drink anything at the actual party - no headache!

Todays plan is to meet up with Pedro and give him the list of the things I want to accomplish before I leave Rio. One of them is going to blow everyone reading this blog away - well that is - if you know me well...

PS - The esophagus problem went away the moment I stopped the malaria medication - Thank you Christina (my cousin) who figured out it was the side effect of the drug! Im out of the amazon so I decided to just stop.

43 Hours Without Sleep Thanks to The Triathletes

Walking into The Mango Tree Hostel, I was completely exhausted. No sleep on the plane as they built the TAM airlines for small brazillians without legs. Some dude at the front desk at 630am (730am) tried to explain to me that I couldnt check in. So I toured around to get a sense of the place and entered a garden patio where breakfast was being served.

Immediately, I bump into three extremely nice TRIATHLETES from New York City. James - Asian Car Dealership Owner, Westchester native with a Nokia addiction. Dave - congenial, married investment banker, who loves his board shorts. Mary Margaret - took off for a year to travel the world - she became the best tour guide for us with her past experience and total language proficiency. Interestingly, they are going to do a 7500m jog (about 5 miles) around the lake and ask me to come along.

I change fast and off we go to the massive lake that is surrounded by a running track. As we start our jog (triathletes run) I remember that I havent slept and certainly havent jogged in maybe 3 months. UH OH! The pace is tough. I handle it for about 2 miles and then start to drop back - Dave was nice enough to drop back with me. I ask him questions about his life, getting to know him, and hoping he will be destracted that the pace keeps slowing lol.

About a mile more I know Im in trouble and I tell him to go ahead. Breathing heavy, weird heart palps, lightheaded and with the sun beating hard, im sweating profusely. I take the pace down to a halting jog. As I near the finish line, I notice James videotaping. I think they caught on to how funny it is to see me struggle.

Of course we werent done - push ups - sit ups - tricep dips for three sets. At this point I think WATER! James comes up with the idea of doing some sprints for 50 meters. I can´t not partake. I approach the start line. I better beat Mary. On your marks, get set, GO! I book it as hard as I possibly can for 50 meters and find myself the winner! What the hell? I mean, seriously. James is impressed. He wants another go. Didnt we just run 5 miles. I cant do this again! On your marks, get set, GO! If only someone were videotaping my arms flailing, legs pounding and facial contortions. James and I tied, I might of had him, but I did jog 5 miles.

Back to the Hostel with my new friends to shower and continue Mary´s phenomenal plan to Santa Theresa for lunch via Trolley Car. Words cant describe the fear running through my veins when I was HANGING off the Trolley, which apparently is normal when the car is full. Moving past cliffs and avoiding telephone polls, concrete walls and cars - the video is priceless.

My first meal in Rio at the best lunch place in Santa Theresa. PORK! beans, rice, kale, farina and beer. It was far superior to manaus and I havent had a stomach pain since. HALLELUAH! From lunch we found our way to a Ferry to take us across the way to another random town where we decided to watch the sunset behind the clouds. Rio is known for their sunsets and this one was no small feat.

Chatting it up Dave, James and Mary Margaret along the day, I realize how awesome it is to learn about new people at the same time as being able to speak english. We eventually find out way to dinner - I order a salad! They have salad! It was probably the best tasting salad in my life just because I get to have salad! The food is just picking up its quality at every moment. Continuing Mary Margarets expertise, she doesnt disappoint as we end up in a locale where there are people in the streets drinking around a square of five or six bars. We bump into Roman (tall guy from hostel, speaks languages) and continue chatting until I start passing out. Its 130am when I find myself laying on a top bunk, still in my day clothes fading away - 43 hours without sleep. The triathletes kicked my butt but it was worth all the suffering. Oh man, how sore am I going to be tomorrow? (holy cow, they have questions marks here?)

??????????????????yeee hawww???????????????????

PS. Can you PS on a blog? Well, anyway, when I first arrived to the hostel, I was told that two people already had things stolen. One girl had her purse snatched right in front of her at the beat and another dude was held up for his camera. Very comforting...

Goodbye to the Amazon - Hello to the Beaches

Im feeling a bit sad leaving the place I have called home for almost 3 weeks. As much as I struggled, I also became attached. Probably to the memories of the life changing events which will stay with me forever. Its not easy doing such things on your own - venturing out of your usual bubble and pushing your human self to limits you may of never known. It creates a sort of spiritual upheavel and definitely some unusual emotion. But that comes with the territory of taking on a trip as courageous as this.

I have learned so much and met so many. My hats off to Jesse, Steve, Chip, Isabelle, Franciney, The Missionary Girls, The Beautiful Children, Giancarlo, English, Nestor, The Amazon Guru, The Bishop, Jahud Said and especially Father Lorenzo who without, this portion of the trip would not be possible. His generosity will not go unnoticed. Thank you all.

Rio De Janiero is the next stop as I embark on a 130am flight where I will sleep and start my Thursday June 18th in a new brazillian city. This 2nd most dangerous location in Brazil will bring my guard back up with locks, hidden fanny belts, hawk eyes and protruding chest with angry walk. There are major famous sites to see including Christ The Redeemer which has been named a recent Wonder of the World. Im looking forward to improvements in food quality, beachfront, rainforests, music culture (birthplace of Samba), new characters, less sweating, snorkeling and nightlife.

As I type here for the last time with no question mark or quotation keys on the board, I notice ten things I am taking with me...

1. Poison Sumac, Ivy or Oak on my feet and ankles
2. Ringworm under my arms
3. Burning damage in the esophagus
4. Sneakers that were white, now brown
5. My Penn State Hat - couldnt part with it
6. Ants, Mosquitos, Spiders and possibly a roach - any of which could of snuck in my bags.
7. A new appreciation for NYC and America
8. The Importance of Language
9. Knowing that the smallest effort can make the largest effect in a childs life
10. An evolved spirit

Hope you have all enjoyed the blogs up until now - I look forward to bringing you along my continued journey along the South American Coast.

An Unexpected Friend, Jahud Said

Schedules in Brazil seem to change on a moments notice and I am given the information on Sunday when I wake up, that I will be leaving on a 2pm bus back to Manaus. As usual, I dont ask any questions and Im somewhat relieved. Manaus is sounding like America at this moment :) I pack my bags and find myself on my own for a few hours. I decide to take a walk down a beautiful path with overhanging trees that runs down the main strip of town. A little exercise and a little time-passing.

About six blocks along, I notice a Cyber Cafe. I cross the street and grab for the door - locked. I notice a boy - no more than 18 sitting on his bike and he seems to be waiting. My first thought is who is this bozo. I motion with my watch and speak ^A Che Ora^ then another motion at the Cafe. He says something and I figure he means noon. For a few weird minutes, we have a conversation where he speaks portuguese and I understand him generally with my responses as Si or Eh or even uh Huh. We understand each other until I get annoyed (often around here) since I have been there for 20 minutes past twelve.

I mention Aqua and point to a store. He waits - I buy - I return.

As If we have been friends for a long time - we hang together for another 10 minutes when he motions that he has a laptop in his backpack. I guess he trusts to show it to me. Its an ACER (I think thats cheap in the US). Why do I care that he has a laptop unless he can get internet on it. But why would he be waiting here if he could. He motions to a bench and has me sit down. Upon reving it up to a screen. He motions for me to type. Its a translation software program for english and portuguese.

It was one of the greatest feelings in 2 weeks. I CAN COMMUNICATE! I think he was as overjoyed as I was and we went back and forth for a half hour or so chatting about Obama, family, Itacoatiara, America, School and God. It was an phenomenal moment. After we realized no one was coming to open the Cyber Cafe - he translates through the computer that there is another one on the other block. I yell at him over the computer. ARE YOU NUTS - WHY DIDNT YOU MENTION THIS AN HOUR AGO! He laughs and we walk - I get an email or two out and now I have to go make my 2pm bus.

Outside the Cyber Cafe, he pulls his laptop out one more time.

His final words were ^Thank you for the time, I hope you will be my friend forever^

We exchanged emails as phone numbers are useless and I wave goodbye. I traverse the quiet dirty street alone with the sun beating from its highest peak - probably never to see Jahud Said ever again, but his spirit is with me as I made a close connection and a great experience that will live with me forever.

Its amazing how important language can be...

English, Nestor, Franciney and Favellaville

Im done complaining about my health as I am using advil to keep the swelling down. I will discuss it again if I end up in a hospital as for now, I will deal.

Saturday was uneventful until 2pm came around and we were scheduled for a boat ride. Not the way you think, when you are on vacation and you go down to a pier and book a tour. No, No, No. This is the third world. We randomly go down to a pier where a family lives out of a hut and negotiate for a boat the size of a canoe with a motor on the end of it. We tell him where to go and along the way we hope that nothing goes wrong as it is clear they dont have communication whatsoever, no radios, no phone service, just lifejackets and a cd player.

We make our way onto the river as my nerves quell and the picture taking bonanza occurs. There are so many amazonians living throughout the capillaries of the river. Take a left or a right and follow canals and you can bet you will hit a shack, a favella, or even a community with a school surrounded by water. It was a little concerning when we came upon a family with over 6 kids running around naked, but maybe thats the norm.

Another bout with the power of now came when we drove through a canal of trees to an open body of water that was serene and completely quiet from industrial life - only the sounds of nature as If I were listening to a pure moods medley. What a moment. I felt as if I was the only human in that location.

Eventually we find our way back to the main river and zip to the other end where the Amaggi Group has a full factory with Grain Elevators and Barges. This company is well known in the area as one of the last standing ones and connection to the outside world. They focus a lot on soybeans. Their massive ships and buoys beyond their complex was quite impressive - I wanted to know a bit more, but we were on a time schedule.





I was due to visit the St. Antonio Festival which is a yearly event in ITA that involves the church. Praying, singing, parading, family, food and fun. It was interesting to see the whole community come out for this event - but truly, what else do they have to do. Their focus is on food and shelter at all times, so the option of a free festival is extremely exciting. Another moment of how tall I am as I walk through the crowds as Andre the Giant.




My new friend English (yes thats his name) who has one leg and drives me around the festival on a motorcycle with no helmet happens to know a total of 5-10 English words. Lorenzo introduced me to him and then sent us on his way. Try explaining you want something to eat. Can I get some takeout please! I will even eat chinese food at this moment. Oh and RED MANGO would be great right now (for those of you who dont know, its better than Pinkberry).

After serious amounts of sign language, English and I motor our way from the Parade to a lunchonette where I order a burger and SKOL (second beer of the trip) I make English order the same. I can at least buy him some food since he is paying for the gas to run me around. Gas here is WAYYYYYYY cheap (1 dollar a gallon) and since everyone has a motorcycle - mileage is spectacular - and the city is about the size of a small town in Long Island -so getting around is less than a mile.

Some random friend of English - Nestor - arrives along with Franciney (the driver that took me to ITA at 120 mph) They want to take me out to the festival after parties, but no one speaks english - so I agree but have no idea what I am agreeing too. They indicate not to bring my camera as, I think it sounded like it might be dangerous so I leave it behind.

Onto Nestors motorcycle I hold on tight and spit out the flies and wipe my eyes as dust whips in my eyes the whole ride. We arrive at a Favella nightspot that has hundreds of people mulling outside. It seems these are the nightgoers that cant afford the 8 Reales (4 dollars) cover. We squeeze past them and enter past the bodyguards. Now im definitely in a no going back situation and I dont have my cell for emergency. Total trust in these guys. Turns out only Franciney goes in with me - I assume those other guys didnt have the 8 reales - no clue - never saw them again.
Franciney and I enter into - only way to describe it is a MASSIVE Beer Garden but with a huge concrete flooring set up for dancing and a Stage at the back where different bands play loud brazillian music (samba). Every hour the band changes and there is a side concrete section with a DJ and club music for others. One section to buy beer and people everywhere. Not prepared with my bug spray the biting emerges. So annoying.

Now understand this. An American dressed like Crocodile Dundee and a fat, tall, bald, goetee brazillian driver as my wingman. I dont think there was one person in that entire place who didnt see us. The looks got worse when we decided to try and dance. He was decent, I was not. The music was great, but I was getting tired at the hour came close to 2am. Not my usual and my body was making me know it. I indicate us to leave and Franciney understands. We waltz out into favellaville and are approached by motocabs (motorcycle cabs).

On one hand it was quite a fun time, with good band music jams and a new experience. On the other hand, I felt a sense of sorrow for the way of life and location.

What the heck happened to English and Nestor...

From Healthy Fruits to Rolaids and Imodium AD

A 530am wake up call - cold shower - no breakfast.

I notice a stench coming from the Priest that reminds me of the homeless in Cincinnati. I cant remember the last time he showered. Im worried about sitting next to him on the bus.

We arrive at the bus station, clearly I complained too much about the car ride the last time. These buses are huge, with massive wheels and ridiculous height. The shocks must be from jumbo jet planes because the 4 hour ride was as smooth as my skin (now that im on malaria medication - which by the way does wonders for your face)

The air conditioning was a nice plus and the seats go back like your in a small bed. I let the stench go as I turned on my Ipod. I must say, I havent really listened to music regularly in a while. I dont know if its because of the depression I have suffered over the years or just lack of interest, but wow! My brother was kind enough to load all his music onto my Ipod and what a lifesaver it has been. I have listened almost every night. If you havent been into music in a while - get back into it. Do whatever it takes to listen to a bit each day, maybe morning and night. It is phenomenal therapy for the soul that you rarely appreciate unless you havent had it for so long. Its only worthy if its music that truly comes from the spirit of the band or person singing. Pop moneymaking marketing scams excluded.

As Bob Marley and the newer band O.A.R. play throughout the ride - I whisk away into daydreams and then to sleep. Awakening at the final destination - we cab to my hotel on the river. Apparently the Amazon is experiencing amounts of rain it hasnt seen in over 40 years and they make break the record this month - so the river is overflowing on the roads at times and we cannot go directly into the jungle at this time to live. We will do day trips so we dont get caught in a bad situation.

So its RIO HOTEL AMAZONIAS - more like an extension of Lorenzos house with more mosquitos - the dangerous kind and a staff of 1. I check in - which means they give you a key and a towel the size of a napkin. The plus is a balcony that overlooks the river. The negative was when I peered into the shower to yell OH COME ON!!!

There was only one faucet. You cannot get a hot shower if you try!

Lorenzo and I decide to sit out on the porch of the hotel and chat for an hour or two. He is quite an interesting character. This man knows four languages. My biggest inquiry - why is he an American Citizen that was born in Italy and lives in Brazil.

We make our way over to the Seminary Compound where the Bishop of the second largest city in the Amazonia State resides. There is a nice large version of what we would call (those things outside that people get married under) - I sit in a rocking chair under it as I wait for the Bishop to arrive. I find myself closing my eyes but not falling asleep. My body becomes relaxed, my nostrils are totally clear and I do not have any headaches. I think Im in a state of conciousness as I notice the sounds of the birds and crickets and who knows what in the jungle surrounding us.

Arisen by Lorenzo and standing in front of me the Bishop of ITACOATIARA. Hes dressed like a bible salesmen with a big silver cross around his neck - something out of a rap video - and hes smoking! By the way, Lorenzo takes down a few beers here and there - is this normal? Smoking and beers under God? Anyway, he seems like a very nice man - doesnt speak english so you know how that goes. After our meeting we proceed to a dinner ...

They only drive stick in the entire country of Brazil - so the Bishops Nissan Truck - looks like a Pathfinder but called something else - we go to the first restaurant where I can order off a menu! But I guess its customary for the Bishop to do the ordering and he orders two fish dishes, one is a soup, some rice, a random yellow grain I think they call Farina over here - they put this on everything - tastes terrible! Im a bit disappointed as fish isnt my thing and I never heard of either of them. 2 40s of beer into the conversation of Italian that I pick up on here and there, the fish comes out. The soup one has bones so I dont bother and the other one was phenomenal so I go to town on it. The grainy yellow farina is prepared differently this time and I like it. I decide to add hot sauce.

After a solid meal for once, they drive me back to the hotel at about 10pm and I retire to bed. This morning, I woke up with an unusual feeling. Kind of like the combination of heartburn, indigestion and a lump stuck in your esophagus. Lorenzo thinks its a reaction to the Hot Sauce as it always gives problems to Gringos - well thanks for the heads up, you saw me pouring it all over the Farina! I think something is stuck that needs to pass, but anyway, I do my morning ritual of diarrhea and try to drink a coke - random fridge in room.

The feeling is quite uncomfortable as I sit here writing this in the Bishops office - I snuck in while Lorenzo and him are in a meeting. Is this a sin...

I hope I get over this feeling in between my breasts - because I do not want to see what the hospital looks like in ITACOATIARA let alone MANAUS which is a 4 hour drive. I have to make it to RIO probably to get any decent care. Hopefully it will pass. I tried Rolaids - nada. Next will be Imodium.

Somebody~s coming...

The Cure for Stuffy Nose and Cancer too

As I was brushing my teeth with PerioBrite - all natural toothpaste - I was thinking about what the Amazon Guru confirmed to me yesterday. There are cures to many diseases sitting in the Amazon. Are you aware that the Amazon is four times the size of the state of TEXAS. That is a massive resource. Well, as you know, one thought leads to another.

We have to consider as an American People, as some of the smartest people in the world, as some of the richest people in the world, why arent we demanding that our way of life change toward a more refined and healthy direction. Im talking more so than a Whole Foods that has expensive organic food for the rich. More than driving to a farm in PA to get real food. Actually pushing the limits and demanding. I suppose because we dont do anything without leaders and we may need one who is not in politics to make this happen.

Maybe its because you dont know certain things. Like there are fruits in the Amazon that I have eaten - that taste incredible - that are significant preventers of cancer. There is a fruit that has an insane amounts of Vitamin A - so much so that the Amazon Guru threw out his glasses for 40 years. This is not Vitamin A in a pill where the absorption doesnt even compare to eating it right out of a fruit! There is a fruit that contains 500 times the Vitamin C of an Orange and probably has 10 times the absorption of a pill. Think about what that will do for you immune system.

Its not like this is an unknown conspiracy, it is a known conspiracy with America just not caring enough, too lazy to bother or submitting to the concept of business is business.

In Brazil as in America, there are plenty of fat people. There has been a surge over the years of fast food and quick processing. Only really in the cities, but it does become somewhat unavoidable.

So last night I decided to get some Pizza for dinner. Lets see how they do this over here. I order a traditional pepperoni pizza. It comes out, looks rather normal and a bit thick with a lot of cheese. Ok, this could be good. I take my first bite and seems a bit low on the sauce but decent! I continue eating. Wait a minute. Theres no sauce. They didnt even know what sauce was - other than an italian chain here that sometimes makes spaghetti with sauce.

But I noticed an odd thing this morning - besides the regular normal stomach ache. For the past 9 or so days I have not had to blow my nose at all. I mean nada! I would of at least expected it in the morning, nope. Except for this morning! I had to do it. Not long or crazy but a few strong blows. This could only be do to one thing. Pizza - which I can narrow down to bread.

Bread is a rarity here. They dont sell it, they dont serve it. I have only seen it as an expensive buy at LINDOPAN. Its not a part of the Brazillian way of eating so I have been off of all kinds of bread for almost 11 days give or take. I broke that chain with the Pizza and now im blowing my nose.

Tomorrow is ITACOATIARA by bus. Im told it is more comfortable, less bumpy and an icebox of AC. Im just looking forward to the AC. Anything to stop the sweating. There is a plan to do a bit of B-Roll and investigate the story more on the products in the Amazon that are undiscovered, their benefits and why they havent reached the world - and what this means for the Amazonia People. Im also going to go into the favellas to do another round of humanitarian aid.

Until then, check facebook as I will now upload a bunch of photos from the first time in ITA.

Today is the First Day of the Rest of your Life

*** warning, this post may create emotion and may or may not be suitable for children to read - this is not meant to be a joke

** pictures will have to come to this post at another time when I can get stills off my flip. I will update this blog and notify you of the change.


If there is a day that is the start of a strong change within me, I would have to so yesterday was that day.

I arrived at our meeting place at 10am for a day with the missionary girls and their Nambian guide. Along with them was three translators and two other Hostel Backpackers that decided to come along. One of them, Rick, is a semi-professional poker player around the world. He decided to take off for Turks and Caicos after his terrible divorce and start anew. I naturally gravitate towards him to learn of his traveling experiences and question him to an annoying level about poker.

We bus our way to the first stop where we weasel our way into an orphanage without an appointment. We are greeted by the Pyschologist on staff and briefed a bit on the facilities and children. Out from the corner of my eye, I see a child no older then six running full speed at me. His arms spread, he does a leap frog into a giant hug as if I am his brother coming home from a journey of years. He sits in my lap and proceeds to play with my hat and glasses, doning them himself.

The group starts to move ahead into the orphanage and I carry Thomas in with me. As I hold him in my arms, we take a tour. There are all age ranges of these children up as high as 33 years old. They range in their physical and mental disabilities as well as wide variety of serious abuses or neglect. Thomas is clearly of neglect. I put Thomas down and break out my camera. Its dead! I immediately go for the Flip Cam. I start to videotape and feel aweful doing so. It seems like its a show or spectacle, but I continue when I see the childrens intrique with the device.

My camera pans to a girl, maybe 13-16 who is eerily holding a doll. This is not a normal doll like barbie or a cabbage patch kid. This is one of those babies that you would see at a CPR class or in a horror film. She was walking around slowly and from a distance intriqued by me. Im holding back the sad but true feeling of making fun of her (instinct) but Im interrupted by a voice over my shoulder. Rick (poker player, world traveller) whispers in my ear, see her ankles. I scan down and notice two circular rings on either ankle. Those are shackle marks - he says.

This is a girl who was shackled, raped, became pregnant, had the baby and then it was taken away from her - hence the doll for replacement. When I say I was floored. Well, I definitely needed a moment. That was just the start of the numerous stories that I picked up on here.

This is a facility of total love where the children feel safe. Unfortunately they can only take so many so they choose the worst of the worst circumstances. We finished the tour and along the way I spent some time with another boy by the name of Junior. He was apparently beaten severely with a terribly rough childhood and was wearing a constant sadness, but a feeling of safety and calm. He didnt talk much and if he did it wasnt english but I decided to put my arm around him and massage his shoulder to let him know that I was there. I dont know what it was about this boy, but he gave me an important feeling of powerlessness.

There is nothing at this time that I can do for him but just to be there in presence. On my way out the gate with the group, I kept looking back at Junior. A sudden urgency came through and I ran back into the gate. I brought a translator with me and told her to repeat after me. This is a gift of love from me to you. Keep it forever. I handed him my RayBan Sunglasses and waved goodbye.

As I walk down the street choked up, I notice the others have already moved on. I assume that is related to the hundreds of times they may have done something like this. But this was my first time. I did however notice that I couldnt part with my Penn State Hat and I should have been able too, because what do I need it for? I can always get another one. As the sun glares into my left eye, I glance at my watch to realize it is only noon. I suck up my emotion and bring up the need for lunch.

One of the translators mentions that her mother-in-laws house is near and she will cook us a full lunch. Brilliant! A huge downpour ensues as we chow down on, do I have to say? chicken, rice, beans. But this chicken was different. It was the best tasting boring ol chicken on the bone, I have ever had. It had to be the fact that it was not americanized. The digestion process was as if I had eaten a salad. Just a whole different thing when you are eating truly organic.

After lunch we proceed to the Aids Center for Children - as if Im not emotionally drenched. We arrive with a check-in process and I crack a few jokes - must be that chicken. They escort us into a small room - looks just like a yoga or ballet studio or taking classes at a gym, but with cracked mirrors, open windows and random toys in the corner. A few minutes goes by and about 15 children roll into the studio. These are children who from the majority were born to a mother with aids - usually the mother died at childbirth as their immune systems couldnt kick in the recovery. Others were from blood tranfusions.

The bizzarity here was they look like normal children, play like normal children and have the energy of me on three cups of coffee. They all take a seat on plastic stools and we sit and stare at each other for a while. Well, the group is kind of clueless as what to do and the kids speak portuguese. One of the mission girls sits down in the middle of them and starts conversing with one of the translators. I decide to play a game of slap hands with one of the little girls. That brings a crowd and now I have to play it with all of them.

Eventually we come to a few traditional childrens games but they all involve running and a bit of competition and I become one of the children - except Im like this big monstrous brother running around with kids on each arm and leg while sweating an entire lake. Out of breath to say the least, a boy arrives with a glass of water for me. I question the water to the translators, is this bottled? They dont understand and I dont care. I drink it right down. I have to be honest, there were times I was afraid, even with the knowledge that Aids or HIV is only passed through bodily fluids. Its just a passing fear, like when the boy gave me the water, but you cant face these fears unless you are here, right?

Our time comes to an end and a boy by the name of Samuel probably 12, becomes attached to me - no I mean literally. He is facing me with each foot of his on each foot of mine and a bear hug around my waist. Whereever I walk he walks. I take steps toward the exit and proceed, but he does not relent. The group of kids gives us a gift and we continue to the gate. Samuel is still attached. Finally, I raise my voice a bit and do a serious unravel.

Once again unprepared with gifts, I scramble through my bag for something to give to Samuel. I have nothing. As silly as this sounds, I am gifted an American Quarter by one of the mission girls and I pass it along to Samuel from me. Still cant part with the hat and I am mad at myself even now that I cant. Clearly I have more internal work to do.

These two facilities that I was at, to put it in perspective - if given $50,000 dollars, it would be the equivalent of probably a million dollars to a facility of similar in America. They would probably name the building after you, but if you accepted that - we would have to question your giving.

The bus ride home, I can already see myself, falling back into my usual self - but the impressions made on me of the day would be an imprint that is undeniable. I found myself thinking about it all night and still today - which means, I will be thinking about this even when I get home.

To review - I randomly met these mission girls by striking up a conversation at the Hostel. This was never planned nor expected. I was just opening myself to the concept of YES MAN. They mentioned what they were going to do on June 9 and asked if I wanted to come along. I said YES, put it in my brain and made sure I was on time. You might want to slow down a bit, notice the things around you and change your schedule here and there to be able to say YES.

You will be glad you did...

Sacrificing Testicles for Lunch on the Farm

With a 6am cackling of Roosters, making a 7am sharp departure was quite simple. Necessary items to me were IPOD and Bug Spray. I asked Lorenzo if pants and boots were necessary. He said shorts and sneakers. Oddly, he was wearing pants, but I continued on.

This was literally the worst car ride of my life. A brazillian driver was sent from an Italian man by the name of GianCarlo who owns a farm in the middle of the Amazon on a lake. The car was a volkswagen but not what you think, more like the old days when they were small and uncomfortable. Im in the back as he goes full speed of 150 k per hour which is about 120 miles per hour on a one lane road with massive potholes that he swerves to miss. Lets not forget the Mcdonalds the night before and the Malaria medication that has stomach side effects.

The car does not come with shocks and I weigh more than 80 percent of the brazillians that are tall. All I keep thinking is, we have to do this on the way back - in the dark! Lorenzo told me it was a 3 hour drive. That was an estimation at 120 mph. So with the constant pothole swerving, bump avoiding, and passing slow cars, it took more like 4.

As we pass over the bridge into ITACOATIARA, I start noticing the outside beauty. We travel down a dirt road directly to a spectacular massive farm. We arrive to a man in shorts - nothing else - cooking fish he caught in his lake on a grill. He is a retired professor who speaks numerous languages, but prefers Italian. I never knew how much I remember from my school days. I understand a lot of what he says and because of that, he loves me. He was a bit concerned by my first name - having no understanding, but once he got that my last name was GALLO we were best friends.

He never told me the story of why he left Italy at 28 and moved to Brazil where he has spent the rest of his life. But his knowledge is incredible and he chooses to live and eat on this farm. His wife and three kids plus grandkids live here as well. He has one son in Manaus who became a doctor.
He takes me on a tour of the whole farm of which I took many pictures and videos that will make you smile and laugh at times. I became enamoured with how serious he was about eating off the farm. We chopped open Brazil nuts and fruits I never heard of. We ate fish from the lake. I got to see grass fed cows and drink natural water from a cocoa tree. It became clear I was foreign with my constant application of bug spray, my picture taking, my clothing choices (absolutely needed pants and boots) and my constant concern for eating anything.

But I did get a moment to myself on top of a boat overlooking the lake that is attached to the Amazon River. Made me feel a little like my summers in NH but without all the noise, without all the boats and waves, and completely untouched by humankind. It was beyond breathtaking. To see something as natural as described in books or dreams. There is a connection, but I dont know what.

After eating together with the family, it was time to go and visit the city of ITACOATIARA. We thanked Giancarlo and his family --

Oh and by the way, it is as old school as it gets. The women do all the work of the house and the man is clearly in charge of all things.

ITACOATIARA is a mini town on the amazon river. It is where the road ends from Manaus. Its sort of a sad town as there are tremendous amount of Favellas (people living on public land in wooden made tents) - terribly impoverished but somewhat happy. They dont know another way of life. The driver takes me on a tour of the neighborhoods and I observe with the camera. I am taking in the place I will call home for a week upcoming. There are a lot of people here who need help but unfortunately the bigger picture is without a doubt political and business related. That is Lorenzos mission. To find a way to mend business, politics and the people so that towns like ITA can move out of suffering and use their land to provide them a quality of life.

It gets dark at 5 oclock over here as we are in the middle of winter so Lorenzo is itching to go - which I find comical because only a half our of our drive will be in daylight. The drive back was as much a nightmare as imagined and I started to get a strong sensation of pain in my testicles. I was becoming hungry and cranky (so hard to suck it up as an American). I make a few comments and we stop at a buffet. UGGGG! beef, chicken, rice and beans again. But this time it looks rather old - laying out for a while with flys taking their share.

As the pothole swerving continued I felt frustrated but decided to bite my tongue. A super-market stop for some bottled water, eggs, cheese and activia (dont ask). I have to go to the bathroom to see if the pain would subside. It didnt. I suffered another 30 minutes until we finally reached home.

10 minutes in my bed and the pain subsided. I hope someday I can still have kids. I fall asleep with the remnants of bumping vibrating through my body...

You can take the boy out of America but not America out of the boy

Im Tired Of:

Ants
Cold Showers - apparently the only option everywhere
Sweating in my Sleep
Bug Bites of all Varieties
Buffets
Random Stomach Aches
12 Roosters cock a doodling every morning at 6am
Searching for slugs and roaches before showering or going to bed
No Garbage Cans - since if you have one, well - it brings organisms
Child Flip Flops
Rice and Beans

Just had to get all that off my chest. Im coming into a routine of Tucu Ma for breakfast, buffet for lunch (piece of beef, piece of chicken, rice and beans) and water plus fruit for dinner or random pastry from Lindopan. The interesting thing about this country so far is the portion control. They base everything at these buffets on weight. The more you put on the more you pay so you can imagine they put less on - and I follow suit. Most eating in Manaus and towns on the way to ITA are buffet. And most of these buffets offer the same exact options. Versions of beef, chicken, rice and beans.

Anyway, when I woke up this morning after, the priest was eating papaya so I decided I could have the pineapple I bought at the Market from the other day. I grab it off the windowsill and the priest takes it from me. It was loaded with Ants. He proceeds to wash them all off and cut off the skin. Handing me a plate with slices of Pineapple, I notice a few existing ants, but I cant be bothered.

By the way, I asked him about the ants and his answer was ^you should see them in the summer^

MMMMMMMMM. This does not taste like the tangy pineapple we get in the states. Its much better. And within the hour, my stomach aches are gone! I have read that pineapple is good for digestion. But they must of been talking about the real ones grown in the Amazon. WOW! It was like taking Imodium, Pepto, Ginger ale all in one, but this actually worked.

From here we headed over to a new tailgate and on the way dropped off garbage. I ordered a Tucu Ma with eggs and cheese and proceeded to take my vitamins out of its packet. So intriguing to the other brazillian tailgaters. But they became immediately distracted when a car drove up and parked. Lots of looking, oooooing and aahhhing. It was as if a Ferrari, Bentley or Donald Trump had shown up. I wasnt sure the big to do. The Driver got out and ordered his breakfast.

I got up to view the back. It was a Ford Fusion. Who gives a (curse word here). It was a Ford Fusion SE which to me looked like a Ford 5oo. It definitely wasnt the Ford Fusion we are used to, it was much larger - but even so - I love Ford but its nothing special. I own a Ford!

Lorenzo goes on to tell me that it looks like there are a lot of cars here in Manaus but only 3 percent of all of Amazonia owns a car and the majority are here in the city. Most travel is by bus.

The rest of the day I spent in a meeting with Lorenzo as he pitched me three documentaries, a feature film and a few business ideas. All extremely good, well thought out and perked my interest. Definitely something there that could be good for transforming the health of America and the plight of the people in impoverished parts of Brazil.

Tommorrow, I go on a Mission for children with Aids here and then off to a school to teach english. I leave for ITACOATIARA to stay until the 17th of June where I will be involved in some humanitarian aid as well as documenting archives in video and pictures for the foundations to use to get their word out. Also a bit of my own research for documentary ideas that I would be interesting in doing when I get out of Columbia next year.

Internet has been aweful so I apologize for the slow down in posts. I am doing my best. Continue to comment so that I know that you are all enjoying the blogs as much as I enjoy writing them.

Facebook will have a ton of new photos as I took 135 pictures yesterday. Video uploading is a nightmare and might have to wait til Rio.

*** commenting on these blogs is key, just so I keep the motivation for blogs, so please comment or email me if you are reading. It doesn't take more than a few seconds.

Down by the Seaside

After the bloody hand incident, we finally take to the streets as Lorenzo is on a mission. His plan is to exchange money at a local joint. The location reminded me of chinatown - close knit - dirty and lots of people.

We stumble into what you and I would say is a bad version of Champs Sports. There are tons of name brand items everywhere from sneakers to tennis racquets but all these new products from possibly 1998 are loaded with dust. Lorenzo explains that no one buys anything here - its more for show - the real business is money exchange in the back.

So we head to the counter and a brazillian man in his 50s behind the counter hands me a pork sandwich, some bizzarre pastry and a shot of Guarana Regente Zero (came in those cups you get at the dentist for mouthwash) This Guarana is a brazillian soda with a fruity taste to it. It has the equivalent of 500 times the caffeine of Coke.

Information that would be useful to me before I drank it! Only some know how amazing to be on the phone with me after having this drink. I was in another world.

We move on from shady establishment to the MARKETS. This is like no other market that you and I have been too. There is meat, fruit, vegetables from floor to ceiling in a warehouse on the water the size of a football field. There are corridors of cheese and dairy as well. It reminds me of those shows on the food network - I made a video to prove it.

As I am being told by Lorenzo that 90 percent of what you see you cannot find in the United States, I hear from afar a song that I recognize playing at one of the stations.

Could it be - Can I not escape the overplaying of IM YOURS by Jason Miraz. I turn the corner and on a boom box this exact song is playing. I videotape THAT for proof. Lorenzo takes me around the streets some more and explains the politics of the region and his grand plans of change. I enjoy listening as food for thought, but Im still thinking about when I can wash my hands as one of my fingers has gone numb - can only assume I touched something that I must be allergic to.

In riding the bus back, I notice us passing the Hostel Manaus - how long ago does that feel - man I wish I could shower there. The whole bus is staring at me - maybe I should find a way to kill my celebrity status.

Im totally looking forward to my 7am ride to the Amazon tomorrow. I need to get a look at the plans for the next 2 weeks. Gratefully I will be in Manaus on June 9th to go with those missionaries on their day trip to the Aids Center and Schools as I mentioned in a previous blog.

Itacoatiera here I come!

Oh and did I mention they have a valet service by the port - according to Lorenzo it is the only time you are expected to tip. A Whole Reale! Reale! Reale!

Update:

I just woke up and my stomach hurts so much - u can only imagine my bathroom experience - the bizarre factor is I had MCDONALDS last night for dinner. I wanted to see if it tastes the same as in America. Oh it definitely tastes the same and it is the first time I have felt aweful. Thanks America! I do have a theory that it could be the actual coke that I had with it. I have been so good about following the rules but the coke was a fountain one and either they make that with their water or it was the deeting ICE! UGGGGGH!

Off to pack a day bag and head to the Amazon...

The Priest Has Landed!

Last night at about 1am Father Lorenzo burst through the doors with a bronchitis infection like no other. He wont take antibiotics - good thing I have Epicor, Probiotics and a Vitamin regime that Celebrities take.

What I found interesting was that this morning his only concern was defrosting the fridge, not the roaches, ants or Urine smell coming from the bathroom. My towel smells like Urine which means the water isnt filtered. Nothing like showering this morning in that water and the drying yourself with the towel while avoiding man eating slugs.

Oh check that - Hes sweeping right now :)

Anyway, we are off to Itacoatiaria tomorrow so my email access will be quite limited, but I think we are there for only a day for now. Then we go back on the 12th for the longer period of time when the Bishop is in town.

He wants to take me to a good breakfast and explain a few things - who wants to bet he takes me to LINDOPAN - if he only knew :)

Update:

The complete opposite. The priest took me to a tailgate stand where there was a lady using a bad version of a George Foreman grill. He ordered me two breakfast sandwiches and a weird maroon juice. The first sandwich was a traditional egg and cheese, but the second one was quite different.

They have a fruit here called Tucu Ma and you can only get it in the Amazon. It has the consisency of plantain but the taste of a vegetable. They drown it in cheese, oil, butter and bread so I couldnt tell you what the actual taste is, but it was gooooood. The juice was odd.

After a few minutes back in the house, there was blood spurting out everywhere on Lorenzos hands. He cut himself bad as he was messing with the freezer. I flip into EMT mode and grab my first aid kit - I thought it was for me. ha.

Out of nowhere a Man and Woman show up for a meeting with Lorenzo and I sit at the table as if I am participating which was laughable - I read the NY TIMES since Lorenzo grabbed it in NY. Its my first time hearing about the Obama Speech and the Airline that went down from RIO! Good thing I didnt find out about that earlier - Im going to Rio on June 18th.

Oh and the priest bought an air mattress at target in NY and took it on the plane as carry-on - that was a nice surprise.

more pics on facebook...

Tourist By Day - Beast By Night

So my confidence is building since I seriously am huge among the people of this neighborhood - yeah if they pull out a knife or gun im screwed - but in a fight Im King Kong. With this newfound Kongness, I decide to take a walk into the alley at night. A mans gotta eat dinner. Its pouring and I dont have an umbrella - for some reason - not interested in getting my rain coat from the bottom of the bag - so I traverse to LINDAPAN! The only place I trust right now since the buffet is closed.

Walking in tonight - with over 100 eyes staring at this beastly wet American barging in - I felt like an outkast of the highest kind. Granted, I know a few of you have felt this way based on ethnicity and race in America - mainly in the middle of the country - I can only speak for NYC.

In NYC there are many ethnicities and races walking around at any given time and it is part of the culture but in the city of Centro in the region of Manaus - I am the only White Male American in existence. So every single person is always staring. And the children... Well they think I am an alien from a far away land and break out their deet.

So I walk into LINDOPAN as an animal from outerspace and used my sign language - I pulled my elbows in and flapped my wings to get a shredded chicken and ham and cheese concoction rolled into an elegant doughy exterior. Then grabbed a potato like flan without all the oils as in American Greek Restaurants.

Chugging down my grape Fanta like an Ape - I start to make a few observations.

Observation:

Im in the city of a third world country - I understand its a CITY - but please define Third World to me.

Should there be:

A women in a dress walking around on her cell phone.

A man with his wife and two kids dressed in Lacoste

A brazillian paying 25 reales to have a snack

Maybe its just me and my naivity. Im sure when I head into the amazon with the people of Itacoatiera (cant get the spelling yet) it will be as expected with huts and chopping at things for food.

The neighborhoods are just a bad part of Queens, Brooklyn or the Bronx and the entire city smells like Staten Island. There are a lot of cars, plenty of bus~s and less polution then that say of China or LA.

I do a crazy dodge of traffic on my way home and then I take a turn for the alley. I put my arms out like a Musclehead Gym Rat on Steroids, my beard and sloppy wet hair add to the Hulk.

Im quick with the gate lock and safely await the arrival of the Priest...

Im a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!

What a great title for a reality show. I understand it completely. I was on Americas Next Producer - does that qualify

The Ants have regrouped - there are some really strange raised bumps on my elbow - seems like eggs are growing under my skin.

As you can see, I havent taken a shower since I left the hostel.

The shower here had three dead roaches in it. This morning there were only one and a half. Both of them missing their legs as if the ants had at them. I saw a bodega around the block randomly selling flip flops instead of hot dogs or newspapers like on the streets of NYC. I might buy a pair and sweep the roachs toward the Beday to attempt a shower.

















This is a good lesson in living conditions - I bet this is a palace to some and a h-llhole to others.


Dont forget though, I choose to be here - we all were given the right by whomever you believe in to have FREE WILL. So I can walk out of here at any time. Jesse can go wherever he wants. Steve the Brit and clearly Chip does as well. I bet if Isabelle worked long enough to save for a plane ticket to Canada - she could choose to change her circumstances.


The argument here is - not everyone has these privileges - not everyone has the money or capability etc. I argue that everyone has Free Will but not everyone has the Education! The knowledge and courage to change their life. So I am learning a real appreciation for the Education!


If we were to go into an impoverished town - take a few kids aside for a significant period of years - educate them properly and give them love and instill courage - I bet they will cherish their Free Will and change their circumstances forever.


By the way I just shot a big spider with deet - not sure if hes still alive. Additional photos will always be in an album on facebook.



off to find flip flops...