Kingdom Come

Brazil beckons. In four days and counting, I depart to a new world. My brief sojourn in Oklahoma is all but over, and it would be an understatement to say that I’ll be happy to be gone. I could probably best describe my stay here as a test of endurance. Life is difficult when you are in a transitory period, when you are forced to give up the luxuries of independence, friends, and leg room. I mean living in a trailer, dealing with the eccentricities of your folks on a daily basis (granted they had to deal with mine), and having few social events to relieve stress does generally suck. And it did, big time really. But looking back on it now, I must admit to myself that perhaps this time of isolation and contemplation was good for me. Removing myself from an environment of distraction gave me time to think about my life and it forced me to ask those “hard questions”; you know, the kind that Dr. Phil grills his unwary guests with before they have chance to flee. Looking into the proverbial mirror, I became dissatisfied with my reflection, and like all great advances, I had to first admit to the weaknesses in myself before allowing myself to move on.

And move on I have, I do believe. I feel stronger physically, psychologically, and emotionally; more than I ever have in years past. And I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I’ve had to go at it alone. Getting thrown in the meat grinder, and then somehow making it out the other side, scarred and bruised, but alive, gives one the sense “I can survive anything”. And when you do it alone, you come to realize that your survival hinges upon no one but yourself. Your emotional state, despite the shit going on around you, depends solely on how you choose to perceive the world. If you choose not to let anything break you, than nothing will.

And there is power in that.

So I return to my life, now with this great opportunity to travel abroad, feeling full and content, ready for the challenges and wonders that this world will bring. Am I fully healed from my wounds, no. I can admit that to myself. There hasn’t been enough time for my old world to pass completely away. But now I have the tools to deal with the sting, and am ready to step forward, remembering the lessons of the past, and accepting the possibility of a new and brighter future. This gives one hope, and what better way to start a new beginning than with a hope of things to come.

* * *

Brazil beckons. In four days and counting, I depart to a new world. Like all great explorers, I charge myself with the weight of discovery, ready for normality to fall slightly askew. My bayonet is fixed, my flag waves full, and I stand on the edge of the bow, smiling at the distant horizon.

With a southern dance of a thousand miles, I will find her. She with her tropical flora, her sertão, her pantanal—in a land so vast that it could contain all of the countries of Eastern Europe. Over three million square miles, and home to some of the richest ecosystems in the world, Brazil is a land worthy of her poetry. Her five regions—the Amazonian North, the arid Northeast, the dynamic Southeast, the pastoral South, and the underdeveloped Center-West—have been likened, as Robert Levine describes, “to islands in a huge archipelago, spread across a sea of geographic diversity.”

Her culture, mixed and proud, glistens with the allure of heady exoticism, fully witnessed in the dance of capoeira (Angolan foot fighting), in the exchange ceremonies of the native Amazon, and in the structural edifices of the Portuguese. Even her clichés, be them coffee, Carnival, or Carmen Miranda, sweeps one into the passion of Saudade—a fondness, longing, and nostalgia for things once seen.

When one speaks of Brazil, such things should be mentioned. Her lilting jazz harmonics, the beat of her Blocos Afros, the swing and glide of her samba. Ahh, but there is poverty in her romance too. Hers is a nation of both “mansions” and “shanties”, where thousands struggle for a place to call home, for freedom from oligarchy, and the disparaging forces of corruption. Both “warmly hospitable and surprisingly violent, physically beautiful yet on the verge of ecological disaster, fabulously rich and appallingly poor” (Page), Brazil is an Eden full of contrast, struggling to find its course, maturation, and identity.

Disparities and cultural riches in mind, onto her shores I will go. First to Bahia, to Salvador, the once lively center of the old world colonies, and then on to Vitoria, capital of Espirito Santo. The first three months will be centered on study and survival, as I traverse the new cultural landscape and learn to speak Portuguese. Then, visa extension permitting, I’m of to the Universidade do Espirito Santo, where volunteer work awaits my attention.

All things seem possible in new beginnings, and what better a place to find life than in the freshness of a new land. Brazil offers this to me, her temperament and silhouette catching my eye, and I impatiently await our first embrace, our dance into delectability.

So with a hearty “garrrrrr”, and a pirates cold grin, let me bid you adieu, adios, and goodbye. My sail in full sweep, and my anchor discharged, I’m off to find grander things. For as the prolific Saint Augustine once said, “The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.”

Slip goes the page.

(from my head to yours)

(travel itinerary)