In the Field

Sorry guys for the lack of posts. Dragons Orientation has been a crazy adventure of 10 hour days, dusty California hikes, random language exchanges with people from all over the world. I am dead tired but excited to throw my kids into the enlightenment vortex that is Brazil.

For the next six weeks I will be in the field, traveling around northern Brazil and to the Amazon. With all of my course responsibilities, I will have little time to think, let alone post.

If you would like to follow my group, and see what Brazil can do to American youth, follow me here:

http://www.wheretherebedragons.com/yakyak.php

These are the online journal boards that both my students and I will post on.

Scroll under the "Current Courses" bar and click "Brazil, Summer 2009". Posts will display on the right.

In August I'll hopefully be back in Bahia. Hope to see all you Salvadorian folks soon thereafter.

Holla!

Back Home

Well, I`m here. Back in the States. First impressions? Jesus my country is wealthy. I know that I am stating the obvious, that blah blah blah, people always say that when they get back from their boy scout adventures in the third world. Obvious or not, perhaps it bears repeating. 4 door cars, massive food portions, width and state of the roads, lap tops, black berries, iPhones, flat screen tv`s. Mcy Mcy Mcy D`s. Jesus my country is wealthy.

So the trip in was painful but fun. I had a 12 hour layover at Miami International, and found, to my everlasting delight, an airport bar that served Guinness on tap. I have been craving a dark frothy beer since I landed in Brazil, and have patiently waited for my return so that I could binge on the Irish brew. As I sat at the bar drinking my Guinness, two playboy Brazilian guys from Sao Paulo sat next to me, getting their last gulps of all American Budweiser before heading home. E ai cara, tudo bem? Our conversation lasted over three hours. To my surprise, I not only led the tête-à-tête, but kept them laughing and falling out of their seats the whole time – AND ALL IN PORTUGUESE. Coming back has really made me reflect on all I have accomplished in a year and a half in Brazil, and the language proficiency is definitely the most gratifying.

So, you know how you know when your back in Oklahoma? When your dad drives up the driveway with a new 2500 Dodge Ram truck, and exits the vehicle to show you his newly purchased pawn shop Shotgun. When just about every woman you see is missing teeth, talks with a draw, and is about 150 pounds overweight. When the latest and greatest news of the day is the color of your neighbors calf’s. Oh Oklahoma, how I’ve missed you.

But I`m not complaining. Feels good to be back. It`s so quiet and peaceful around our Wichita mountain farm. I can`t remember the last time that clean natural air brushed my face, that I didn`t cringe at the sound of a yappy city dog, that I could run around listening to bees and smelling flowers. Last night, my mother treated me to a steak dinner, with spinach in homemade vinegar dressing, garlic bread, and a desert of vanilla ice cream with raspberries. Wow!

Wealthy or not, Oklahoma or not, I have to admit, feels pretty good to be “home”.

U S of A

Here we go. The fog horns are blaring from the docks, the ships about to set sail. These last few weeks have been busy. Hours upon hours, stacked into oblivion, have been spent in front of the computer. My fingers gain dexterity as my body withers away—my eyes red and drying as I stare into my digital world, typing away papers, planning Dragons curriculum, getting my shit together. Now, with my list fully checked, I begin the pensive crawl back to my homeland and away from my city by the sea.

How will things look this time around? Will they be larger, fuller, fatter than before? How about the frenzy, franchises, french fries, or maybe a tap of star and stripe diversity? How about the beer?

The most salient change that travel demands is a reexamination of one’s own society. Will I be more/less critical than before? Have I fasted on America for too long?

My bags are packed, last hand of poker to play before a sprint to the docks.

For this…

And the rest…

We shall see.

Oh Amewica.

Crime's No Joke

Here in Brazil, getting robbed is just a fact of life. Assaults are common place and there are few weeks that go by when I don't hear a new story.

When the majority of residents here in Salvador make less than R$400 a month (if you are lucky)...

When the cost of living is so high (at least 3 times as expensive as in the States)...

When the state lacks adequate public education...

And the system fails you...

And your options are few...

Some people turn to crime to TAKE what they WANT out of life.

Crime here is everywhere. It permeates daily life. It's not something you only read about or see in the news. It's not some disconnected puppet show, but something real, something that makes you look behind your back and keeps you wired.

Some recent stories that I can remember:

-A few weeks ago, the director of our school walked out of his office and was robbed at gunpoint. He said that the crook shook with nervousness when he pointed the gun in his direction. The thief took his car keys, stole his car, and was never seen or heard from again.

-Same week, one of the teachers was robbed at knife point walking home from the gym.

-Friend of mine went to dinner in Barra, a trendy beach side neighborhood. A group of five men entered the restaurant with automatic rifles. Everyone ran into the back and hid in the kitchen. The register was robbed and the crooks fled.

-Same friend was beaten onto the ground by three guys on a seperate incident. One held down his girlfriend. The two were robbed of all their belongings.

-That same friend was walking along the beach and a man with a machete ordered him to hand over his backpack. He dropped it and ran.

-My girlfriends cousin -- a security guard and black belt in jujitsu -- tried to resist when a group of guys rushed him. The thieves shot him through the chest. Somehow he lived.

At work, instead of circulating internet jokes or office humor, we often get these (overhead shots of points in the city, where the latest spree of robberies are taking place):

Often times, when things go wrong, assaults end in violence. Not only do the victims get hurt, but when the thugs make a mistake or are somehow over powered, people will turn on them as well. Countless times I have watched news broadcasts of bus robberies, where the public has cornered the thief (usually 16 years old) and are collectively beating him to death.

Consider it bottled up rage. When you work your ass off for R$ 400 a month, and someone tries to take it from you, your reaction is usually less than sympathetic. And as much as I would like to play anthropologist, living here changes you. Something about watching a thief get a taste of his own medicine feels good. It's karma, and somehow deserved.

Check out this video. I find it so fascinating. This is one of those joke shows where guys go out on the street and mess with people on film. The guy is running up to people and yelling, "ASSALTO"! (ROBBERY!) and then pulling out a newspaper to complain about high grocery prices. I'm sure that if this was taped in the US, people would have a totally different reaction. Here in Brazil, crime is no joke.

Famosos tentando falar português

I'm happy me speaky melhor.

"Winter" Blues

Here in Bahia, the sun is everything—it is the dance, the movement, the energy of this place. When the sun breaks through the clouds, the city warms like a prairie ant hill. Our legs and arms creak from winter entropy. Our heads start to swivel from side to side as we break listless into the outer-world. Without the sun this city is dead.

Two weeks now. Two solid weeks of rain and much more than usual. Here in the northeast, floods have killed at least 32 people and left more than 200,000 homeless. In Salvador, the waters rose unexpectedly flooding whole neighborhoods and burying people in their cars. With many left isolated in their homes, robberies and lootings have increased dramatically. As usual, it is the poor who suffer as the city drowns in its own filth.

For me, the sun is everything. Growing up in Michigan, life can be defined by one long series of depression, by seasonal affective disorder, constant cloud coverage, and the “winter blues”. I have always wondered if climate can affect a country’s cosmology—if our religious outlook is somehow linked to our mood, or how much sun we take in. Case in point, Norse mythology vs. Greek mythology, the former being a dark story of predestined death, of a three year winter and final battle on the Vigrid Plain, of Ragnarok, the end of the world. The Greeks myths, while dramatic and very human in their tone, somehow feel less heavy, like the author was comforted by the fact that he could take a break, set down his pen, and go play outside.

Brazil, without the sun, is a hard place to be. The waters of the South Atlantic are brown and discolored. Trash lies on the street, miserable, uncollected, and the place feels worn out and sad. It is Michigan without the comforts, and not where I want to be. Guess I’m lucky to be leaving this month, to escape this “winter” for an American summer, and to balance my cosmology, mythology, and personal views once again.

Intro letter to my students...

For me, for my students, the trip is fast approaching. Less than a month now. There and back again -- a hobbits tale in Brazil.

Dear Adventurists, Discovers, and Life Magicians,

Greetings from Salvador da Bahia—the black Rome of Brazil. As I write this letter, thousands of miles from where you now sit, a tropical rain is pouring outside of my window. It is the rainy season here in northeast Brazil, a time for the city to rejuvenate its greenery, where an occasional downpour can catch you off guard. From the street below, car alarms are wailing excitedly as people yell and scramble for shelter. While a downpour is to be expected at this time of the year, it sounds as if a river is carving a path on the street below, and I pray to the African deities that my house remains safe and isn’t carried out to sea.

Despite the rain, I hope this letter finds you well as you begin to prepare for your journey. Soon, the colors and sounds of your home will fade away, the smiles of family and friends distanced by a thousand new steps. All that is rhythmic, that feels comfortable and predictable will pass on—replaced by a new world of samba, palm trees, and the roar of the South Atlantic. Are your bags properly packed, your shoes tightly fastened? Are you starting to get excited?

For me personally, Brazil is a very special place, and I greatly look forward to sharing experiences there with you. My first journey to the “Land of the Southern Cross” occurred in December of 2003, a short trip into the rural backlands of the state of São Paulo. Having made my rounds through Europe – through multiple countries abroad – I thought that I was prepared for the “third world”, and all that Brazil had to offer. With family from Brazil, I thought that perhaps their collective consciousness would somehow seep into mine—that I could fake a samba, or pull out a Portuguese word like a rabbit from a wizard’s hat. How little I knew of the universe that lay ahead.

From the first minute outside of the São Paulo airport, my jaw hung open. How green everything was! How noisy, hot, and chaotic it all seemed. Motorcyclists raced at full throttle in between cars. Horns blared. As a farm boy who grew up in rural Michigan, it was all so much. From the warmth of the people that I met, to the culinary delicacies of fried bananas, churrasco, and frozen açai—I became addicted. In the years that followed, I finished up my degree in Anthropology, edited books on the Amazon, and eventually found my way to Salvador da Bahia, where I lived in a favela – a Brazilian slum – working as an English teacher and on a Masters degree in Education. For me, Brazil became a place where I could challenge my assumptions about the world, where I could develop my self, my language, and my empathy for those around me.

As you shall soon discover, Brazil is also a place that will challenge and engage you. It is a land governed by extreme dualities, by wealth, poverty, affection, division, smiles and sadness. You may see things that horrify you—street children begging for food, trash filled streets, a poverty endemic and passed through generations. You may find things that inspire you—a game of Capoeira, a waterfall, a steaming hot plate of beans and rice. You may feel things, simple though they may be, that bring you awe.

In the end, I only have a few recommendations. First, be open to things that challenge your sense of “how things should be”. Confronting a new reality is never an easy thing and it requires a strong sense of confidence, maturity, and flexibility. I’m sure you will find it. Second, try and leave the United States where it belongs—at home. It is all too easy to start comparing what you SEE in Brazil with what you HAVE in the U.S. But this is a mistake. Brazil and the U.S. are two different worlds, and though we can never forget where we are from, we must strive to embrace (and be thankful for) things as they are (this has been the hardest lesson for me).

Lastly, I would like you to keep in mind a quote by 17th century British author Thomas Fuller, who once wrote, “The fool wanders, a wise man travels”. In this great experience to come, let us be wise men and women, with eyes and hearts open, feet pointed toward the great beyond. Your fellow Dragons students are your companions, your instructors your guides. Stick with them and travel wisely.

Adelaide, Isabela, and I will be calling you soon, to chat about the trip and discuss any loose ends. Feel free to call or email me any time with questions or concerns.

Until then, dream of our journey, and I will see you in L.A.

Leo

An Inconvenient Two

Look. Salvador, it’s a beautiful place. From the emerald sway of the palm trees that line the All Saints Bay, to the soft pastel colored churches that fill the Pelourinho—Salvador is a city of light, a place infused with the energy of a Northeastern sun. As you sit at Porto do Barra sipping a chilled coconut with your feet tucked in the sand, the light breaking through a clear and honest blue sky will change you, inspire you, lead you to move, to dance, to sing. It is a place of escaping energy, where the people become a creative machine, filtering the weekend sun into movement, and bright eyed Portuguese that seems to float in the air. It is the land of the morena, her full lips and dark smile, an allure drawn out in the samba, as she sways, her braids flying through the air. What a place this is, its colors, its cobblestone streets, lighthouses, and walkways by the sea. Bela, ela, this city, what a place to be.

* * *

Look. Salvador, it’s an ugly place. From the dark stains of sewage that line the All Saint’s Bay, to the prostitutes, thieves, and wicked intentions that fill the Pelourinho—Salvador is a city of darkness, a place dried and cracked by a Northeastern sun. As you sit in Rio Vermelho, sipping a chilled beer with your feet stuck to the pavement, the night breaking through a dim and dishonest sky will change you, strike fear into you, lead you to watch, to cringe, to cling. It is a place of unrealized dreams, where the ex-slaves scrape to survive, of political misalignment, where the whites build their walls, smiling, eating their sushi from behind. It is the land of the branquinho, his thin lips and snide smile, a power drawn from generations, he plays, sharp cracks of a whip flying through the air. What a place this is, its colors, its trash filled streets, potholes, and corruption by the sea. Feio ele, this city, what a place to flee.

The Itinerary

Sorry for the lack of posting yall. I may not officially have a job, but somehow I keep myself overly busy. With only a month left until my trip, I have so much planning to do, tickets to buy, and places to be. Unfortunately, my Brazilian citizenship documents will not be ready in time for my trip. That means that I have to pay the overstay tax on my American passport, a whopping $400 just to exit the country, and then figure out a way to get back into Brazil. A silly thing these bureaucracies, if only I had a bat and a pocket full of cash.

So, to preview the summers coming activities I am making a list of must do’s. The next three months will be a whirlwind of activity and I feel it prudent to keep things organized.

So here we go:

1. Start preparing Dragon’s course.


2. Pay the Policia Federal their bullshit tax. Pay rent, parking, electricity for next three
months. Swear as money disappears.


3. Rock out the Masters course starting May l1. Get A’s. Try not to go crazy.
4. Get on plane and say bye, bye Brazil. It still seems so surreal!


5. Land in Oklahoma.


6. Hug dogs. Hug parents. Wonder at the mysteries of back country living.
7. Enjoy the fact that rural life is so…chirp...chirp…quiet.
8. Eat chips and salsa. Eat cinnamon life cereal in vanilla soy milk.
9. Go to Meers. Eat famous Meers burger and fries.


10. Laugh at how big Americans are.
11. Go to Taco Bell and eat nacho cheese chalupa.
12. Go to cheap Chinese place and eat cheap Chinese food.
13. Marvel at the fact that I equate an American diet with fast food.


14. Jump on dual-sport motorcycle. Drive adventure riding style to Eagle Nest, New Mexico.
After a year and a half driving a bike 24/7, easy breezy bacon greasy.


15. Peak over the edge of the Cimarron Valley. Feel the butterflies in my stomach as I see my
home and Eagle Nest lake.


16. Drive to elevation 9,000 feet above sea level. Park in the gravel by my cabin. Smell, smell,
smell the ponderosa pine.


17. Merry make from June 5 – 14. Keep up with dragons. Finish Masters degree assignments.
Party with friends who are flying down.
18. Bonfires! Barbeques!


19. Eat at Pizza Outback in Taos—best Pizza in the Western United States.


20. Sit in the hot springs off of the Rio Grande gorge. Get naked and play hippy.
21. Say goodbye to Boulder folks and friends.
22. Motorcycle 14 hours back to Oklahoma.
23. Pack, flight to L.A.
24. Meet Dragon’s folks. Grab new expedition equipment and head into the Sierra Nevada
mountains. Play with cool people. Get certified in Wilderness Response medical
techniques.


25. Camp, play, work for 11 days.
26. Hop on flight to Miami, Sao Paulo, Salvador.
27. Get back, ahem, say hello to girlfriend.
28. Start trip, travel, teach. Express my love for Brazil to homesick teenagers.
29. Travel around Salvador, Arembepe, Diogo, Toucano, Chapada Diamantina, Manaus, and
various locales upriver on the Amazon.


30. Back to Salvador. Exhaustion. Back to semi-stable city life.
31. Hope to dear god that my work documents are ready. Start work at Panamerican school.
32. Continue with Masters.
33. Save world.
34. Breath.
35. Rise & Repeat. Rinse & Repeat.

Across the Horizon

People….I am super excited. You know how, sometimes in life, good things just drop out of the sky. Like, you are walking down a road, silently thinking to yourself, “I could really use a new harmonica”, or “I need a new boyfriend”, or “Wouldn’t it be cool to…” and suddenly that person, place, or thing just plops right down in front of you. It almost feels meant to be, as if you knew it was coming, and it was just a matter of time.

Well…plop…lookee what I have here.

I am now the new course instructor for the Where There Be Dragons Sustainable Future Course in Brazil. I’m heading to the states, off to California, and will be traveling for six weeks through Bahia, Chapada, and the Amazon!

Holy Jiminy Crickets Batman! How did this come to be?

Well, two years ago before heading off to Brazil, I happened to run across this travel company while I was living in Boulder, Colorado. The Latin American program director hopped into my Capoeira class, full of stories of far away places, and adventures traveling through the wild. At the time, I was studying heritage tourism and was searching for a way to combine my love for travel, Brazil, and education. When I finally got a chance to sit the director down, I was more than impressed by the companies mission—its focus on experiential education, third world programs, and creating superbly whole human beings. At the time, there were whispers of creating a Brazil program and I really wanted to be involved, but due to a lack of funds, interest, personnel, etc., nothing came of it, and I returned to my normal job and life.

Fast forward two years. Last week, out of the blue, I get a phone call from the Latin American director, enthusiastically telling me that they had created a Brazil program, that it would launch in a few weeks, and that they needed a male guide to help lead the expedition. Well, having just lost my job at the travel agency, and with free time until the spring semester, the call couldn’t have come at a better time. I interviewed, wrote an eight page application, interviewed, interviewed, and interviewed some more, and silently waited to see if I stood out above the competition.

The answer came today and I’m officially in. In the next few months, there will be lots of planning to do. The course needs to be polished and curriculum developed. In June, Dragon’s is flying me for a 10 day training program in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California, “marked by community-building, engaging trainings and workshops, decadent international meals, late night hot spring dips, and play in the glistening peaks and gorgeous high desert of the Sierras.” I’m hopping to leave in early June to maybe see the folks before heading to L.A. After that it’s back to Salvador, where our group will start the journey.

Sometimes life is like that, it drops shiny objects from the sky. Funny, if the call had come one month earlier, I would probably have refused because of my job. If it had come six months earlier, I would have refused thinking my Portuguese wasn’t up to speed. If it had come two years earlier, I wouldn’t be able to assume the role of guide that living a year and a half here in Brazil has made possible.

Yes, fortuitous indeed. For the next leg of the journey, I hope you stay tuned.

End of Summer

Leo got jiggy on a magical tropical isle.

Here is a few more dashes of paradise to make you Eskimos jealous.

I white and I eat you!

Bahiana mysticism.

Salvador across the Bay. Mission: Itaparica. Visit the first city on the island.

Mission accomplished. Large abandoned colonial churches. Squares full of children. Chocolate eggs and cigars. Ahh, life on the tropical isle.

Jesus saves, read the bible, candomble, God condemns spiritualism.

Mmmm....beer.

Stairway to heaven? This is my friends backyard.

Itaparicas spring of life. The only freshwater spring on the island. It is supposed to make one 3 years younger. And I now happen to be 24!

If I only had a monkey and a dozen pirate ships.

Island flora.

And beach buggies.

Shades across the Bay.

And my favorite street.

Azul blue. Fisher, sands. And a youth that lives forever.

Blanka is...

not an accurate representation of the Brazilian People.


"Immortalized in the arcade game Street Fighter (and it's sequels), Blanka proved to be one of the most powerful and versatile fighters a player could choose. He was also from Brazil.

For an entire generation of bright-eyed youths, Blanka stood as the sole cultural representation of the Brazilian people. A country of shirtless, green-skinned, bioelectrical beasts - truly this was a paradise...or a hell on earth. Zangief may have had the piledriver, Dhalsim may have had obscenely long arms and legs, and Chun Li had that cheap-ass fast kick, but they paled in comparison to Blanka's merciless scalp chewing technique.

Even Blanka's "home stage," set in Brazil, was nothing short of bizarro. Another Blanka fan writes:

"Blanka's official stats mark him as hailing from The Jungle, Brazil. Cute. If any of you readers out there from foreign nations wonder why North Americans are afraid to travel overseas, here's your answer. The only things I have to gauge Brazil on are Blanka, cocaine, and monkeys in suspenders."

Unfortunately, it seems that the large majority of Brazilians are in fact not brutish, bipedally challenged green man-beasts. This group is out to set the record straight for that entire generation raised on video games deluded into thinking every Brazilian is like Blanka."

Source

Donald Duck in Brazil

Wouldn't you know, the long billed, fluffy tailed, speech impaired duck actually came down to Brazil. Thought this was a cute little addition from our good pals at Disney.

Emotional Roots

I started rereading old posts of my blog this morning, and what a surprise they were. I can’t begin to tell you how odd it is to take a look back—to glimpse a snapshot of myself in the not so distant past. Even though I’m still me, that old me seems like another me, like some shell of myself floating around in a vacuum of time, just waiting for the future to happen. On some level, it is gratifying to relive the experiences, to rise and fall on my own wave of progress, a quest that I embarked on but four years ago. Stranger still, I am starting to see patterns in my emotional wiring. It seems that about every year and a half, the routine that I establish for myself seems to get dry. Every time I get comfortable with my living space, I get depressed, I feel lost, I feel like moving on. This seems particularly salient to me, to notice this pattern, because I have been falling into this very rut in the past few weeks, feeling depressed, bored, and wishing that I was heading towards some new horizon, “really living”. It is odd to become conscious of this. Is this a vagary of youth, a psychological misfire? Do I have a gypsy’s soul? I don’t have the answer, nor the justification to keep on running.

The Pororoca

Also know as the "onda da floresta amazonia", "the phenomenon", the worlds longest wave.

I caught a t.v. show a few days ago about this crazy surfable wave that sweeps once a year into the Amazon. Apparently, it's created by lunar tides and travels miles up a tributary in North Eastern Brazil. When I saw guys actually surfing this thing my jaw dropped because a) I didn't know it existed and b) who knew that one can surf for 35 minutes at a time.

Wow. Props.