NYC

I was scared of NYC growing up.

I was scared of a lot of things growing up. Like driving.

Then God brought me to Connecticut. Or really Con-nec-ti-cut - as my friend Silvio would have me say. Because "Really, that is how it is said. Right? You're just trying to sound cool. But that's really how it is said, right?"

"No, Silvio. It's ... whatever."

In Connecticut I learned that NYC was not as bad as the media had made me think throughout my life.

There were always girls raped at Central Park on the news. There was my learning about a member of my favorite band shot dead by some maniac (which really happened when I was still too young to have a favorite band, but I learned about it just in time to add it to my fears). There was Jason Vorhees on a killing spree in the yucky undergrounds of the city. There was Home Alone 2, in which the boy I was planning on marrying when we both grew up got lost and chased by bad guys in creepy Central Park...

Then... where did I end up? Con-nec-ti-cut.

The hot thing to do in Connecticut is to travel to NYC.

Oh, of course! When I arrived from Brazil, I arrived through La Guardia. Still not sure of the whole New York thing. Just get me out of here, Mr. Bus Driver.

The bus driver who was picking us up from the airport and driving us to the au pair training center in Stamford-CT, was born and raised in NYC. He was proud of his city. He told us stories as he drove us to our final destination.

So people grow up here? Normal people? People like me? No, I did not say that to him. But I said it to myself. He stopped at Wendy's for a quick snack, because some of us had been travelling for over a day. Most of my au pair friends had never seen a Wendy's before. He was proud to introduce it to them.

"Yes, America has more than just McDonald's, ladies!"

I was scared of getting out of the bus. But he laughed at me, so I did. I don't take mockery very well.

On Christmas time I finally decided I'd get the special bus sponsored by the community center in the town I lived. The bus left town in the morning and took a bunch of elderly citizens - and I - to scary NYC.

I walked a lot. I had no friends with me and the one person I knew in the city would not be available to babysit me till evening.

So there I was, for the first time, alone in New York City. Time to face my fears.

I walked and walked because I was scared of the subway. Not so much of getting mugged, but of getting lost. I saw the places that looked interesting on a map, and on the map they did not look so far.

Bad map!

I ended the day with sore feet. I met my friend and he took me to the top of the Empire State Building.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

Yes, it was beautiful. I guess he too was proud of his city.

Then he brought me back to the elderly citizens bus just in time to leave back to Nowhereland, Connecticut. (that's a made up name. I called the town Nowhereland because I felt it was in the middle of nowhere.)

That's when I told him I did not believe in dating outside of my religion. And that was the last I heard of him. I wonder why.

Then came Brazilian Day - the day Brazilians living in the U.S. celebrate Brazil's independence from Portugal.

Some Au pairs told me about it.

Yeah, when a bunch of peers tell you do to something, you do it, right? That is called peer pressure. Ever heard of it? Me neither!

After you've seen New York on Brazilian Day, you are not afraid anymore. New York was no longer the scary scene of Friday the 13th, no longer the evil city that killed John Lennon. It was a fun place to go. A place with Brazilian music, TV actors and my hometown food - which cost an arm and a leg!

I got lost from my friends half-way through Brazilian day. I thought that was good. I thought I wanted to go and find myself a one-day boyfriend. So I did. But when he started asking for my phone number, I figured it was time to take Metro-North back home.

"Come on, let's go to the Brazilian dance club!"

"Oh! There's my friend!"

"Where?!?"

"Over there! 6 blocks down this road! She's waving at me! Bye!"

Now, how do I get to Metro-North again? What's the name of that station?

Asking for help from police officers and kind city-dwellers, always looking back to make sure I was not being followed by lovy-dovy new-found trouble, I got to Grand Central.

Surprise - surprise. Mr. Lovy-Dovy followed me to Grand Central Station. He put his hands on my eyes, and for a moment I was glad! I thought it was one of my friends!

"You're gonna leave without giving me a kiss?"

A kiss! I can't kiss! I don't know how to! And I can't let him know that I don't know.

Oh, my gosh, I forgot boys want to do the kissing thing when they are interested in you!

That's the last time I flirt with boys I don't know. Last time! Last time!

Now think fast! That's right, dunk!

"My kiss!"

"Where are you going to?"

"Danbury!"

Crap! He'd be on my train! I was dismayed. I had to find a way out. But how?

I couldn't have this guy trying to kiss me for 2 hours inside a train.

"I-I I will kiss you! At the train!"

"Where are you going to?"

"uh New... Boston! Boston! I'm going to Boston. That's where I live. My dad works for the police there. Hey! There's my friend again!"

"Where?"

I joined a crowd of tourists that spoke another language and hopped onto the express train. When he saw me again, the doors were closing. Free at last.

Icky-sticky-goo had a whole new meaning for me on that day.

A few months later someone to whom I had actually given my phone number on Brazilian Day, called me. It was a Brazilian school in New York City, CCLS. And before you know it I was commuting to scary NYC. Teaching English and training teachers.

When I met my husband, NYC became an obsession. We had to do something fun together, and I had to go as a tourist to see the place where I worked like dog for no reasonable explanation other than I really love to teach. Because the pay was not worth the 4 hours a night I had left to sleep.

One beautiful and cold Saturday morning in January, we did go there. And we walked to places I had been wanting to walk to without being by myself. The major tourist places. The Library, Times Square, the MET, the Brazilian Street. This time I had my boyfriend with me! It was so much more fun!

We saw the tribute to John Lennon at Central Park. I had never seen it before. I was so excited! I think we just ran into it, it was not planned! I had read about it before, but we had not planned to see it.

Unfortunately we also ran into the guy I had a crush on, and his girlfriend. What do you do when you are out with your official boyfriend, whom you think you like, and you see the guy you have a crush on, with his official girlfriend? Hold on tight to your official boyfriend before you start acting like a fool - that's what you do. That's what I did.

We never made it to Chinatown, Little Italy, or to the Statue of Liberty. In fact I would never make it there until one year after we were married. It took my family coming to visit, for us to take the trip to that part of town.

I really wanted to go there, but on this trip we stayed around the Central Park area, which was a place I was familiar with.

I was just glad to be out with my boyfriend. Actually travelling with someone that meant something to me. It was the first time that happened since I had gotten to America. That was good enough for me.

Corruption

Corruption is always surrounding power.

Political power gives people certain rights, privileges. And it scares people who don't have it. Who wants to go against someone who has the power to destroy their lives?

Political power gives people power over other people, their minds and their bodies.

Immunity to members of the congress, parliament immunity as we call it in Brazil, leads to the idea that they can get away with anything they want. And they take advantage of it. Who won't take advantage of license to get away with murder? Even people with good morals may slip. What to say of people without them?

We want to believe that some people of good character will stand up against people with with none. We want to believe that some politicians with a hint of what honesty means will fight the impunity of those who have never known it.

But if there are those who have the guts to stand up against politicians who are not afraid of anyone or anything, because they can buy them or control them, who will stand up for them?

Is a multi-party system any better than a two-party system in fighting corruption? I don't know. I think the only thing that makes one better than the other really is the people that are part of them.

But regardless of how good or bad people are, I have to say that maybe at two party system will fall into the trap of making the opposite party the enemy, and corruption gets overlooked if it's on your side.

In a multi-party system, because the lines of party loyalty are blurred maybe it's easier for everyone to join together against the corrupt ones - it does not matter which side you're on. Should that be the answer however, Brazil would be the cleanest country in the world. Should that be the answer we would not bitterly call our country the land of impunity.

Is a two-party system the answer? I already made my point why the answer is no.

The answer? From a strictly human point of view I don't know. I say make as many regulations as you can. I do believe that as much as possible people with power should be scrutinized - without the privilege of the party allies to protect them.

On the risk of sounding cheesy, I will speak as a Christian, the answer is not one system or the other. The answer is the people. People who take a stand of following the morals instituted by God.

Besides that I don't believe there is a perfect system. But I will still strive for one as faultless as humanly possible.

Old Sturbridge Village

Life back in the 1800's was so different! We take so much for granted nowadays. Last Saturday we visited Old Sturbridge Village.

I had been wanting to go visit (man! that's a lot of verbs!!!) OSV for a while. I was curious about that outdoor museum that recreated life in the XIX century. Thanks to my husband I called them and found out Mass teachers enter free. Yeah, I guess there are good things to being a teacher.

We went into houses and stores, shops and mills. We talked to a cooper (a guy who made round containers like buckets and kegs), a blacksmith, a tin man, a cobbler (a guy who makes shoes) and a potter. They showed us how they did their work.

We also talked to these ladies in a farm and they told us how they made cheese. It was fun finding out that cheese could be kept at room temperature, and the reason we can't do that today is because of all the fermentation and different fungi they add to the cheese, probably to make different types of cheese. Back then cheese was just cheese. And it tasted differently depending on how long it stayed there and where the cow had been feeding.

Cheese and butter making were actually ways to preserve milk, so they could not really go bad if left out of the fridge - the whole point of it was to not allow milk to go bad. And there were no fridges back then.

Shoes back then did not have left or right, they had only one shape. I tried one on!

In the mills I could see how they used water as a source of energy. I had always learned about that in school books, but nothing beats seeing it for real.

I also found out why people back then did not have a lot of clothes. Till not long ago then everything was manual. The wool or other raw-materials had to be manually open and worked (carding), then turned into lines then into cloth. I tried carding. A lot of work.

That's why our house only has only little closet that does not even fit all of Dean's clothes.

We visited the house of a poor family - THEY HAD A TWO STORY HOUSE! And you call them poor?! -, then the house of a middle class family and a rich family. The rich family house felt a lot like a castle. The middle class family house I could definitely relate to: they turned an old bed into a sofa, because sofas were a novelty and very expensive - sounds like something I would do. Middle class has always been a mommy-I-wanna-be-rich people. It's like a curse we will never escape for as long as we are middle class.

Also, because one of the houses was real, we could learn about the family that lived there but looking at the left overs of work such as sawing found under their floor.

The potter guy said his technique has been the same for hundreds of years. A lot of life then was about doing things that had been done for many generations. Wisdom passed by the older people.

I guess no one really could imagine that life as everyone had always known was about to change so radically in just over 100 years.

Of course in all began with the renaissance in the sixteenth century and the industrial revolution in the second half of the eighteenth century. Heck it all began with the invention of writing and paper thousands of years ago. But could anyone imagine how fast-paced things would ever get?

The twentieth century arrived with a whirlwind of technological advances that brought centuries worth of changes in just 100 years. Hard life and traditional ways of doing things changed into easy-to-make, paint-by-numbers, instant-food, virtual-reality, no-pain world.

Someone that died at the end of the XIX century would not recognize the world if he came back for a visit at the end of the XX century.

And we wonder why no one values older people anymore? Our world, with all the perks it's brought us, has been sending us the message that old is bad, and that older people just can't keep up. The toys children played with in that time were the same their parents and grandparents played with. Can we say the same of our times? In 100 years - we have different world. In 50 years - we have different world. In 20 years -we have a different world. In 10 years - we have a different world. Of course our children will think we're right out from the middle ages! And how much wisdom is lost in that kind of thinking. No, not everything is good unless we stop and think what our values really are. Nothing will be worse than to live in a world where the older people have no value. Yes, the way we interact with them will change, because it's true that with the fast changes people will fall behind. But the wisdom that comes with time and life experiences, this will never be traded by progress.

If Jesus doesn't return anytime soon, where will we go next? Are there any limits to what man can dream and invent and popularize? And are there any limits to how fast that can be done?

Hopefully not faster than we can realize the collateral effects of it in time to fix them.

When you see a slave sleeping, don't wake him up. He might be dreaming of freedom.

He who does not read, speaks poorly, listens poorly and sees poorly.

Child of famous people

Sad thing. A death so sudden for a life so young.

Bad thing. Cars running in the dead of night, lights out, through a tunnel banned. Suspected race. Suspected hit and run

Fatal error. The skater victim was also violating the prohibition of access for pedestrians and skaters.

Perplexity. Before the reality of death, does it make a difference whether the victim was walking on banned site? The dead would not have been victimized had he not disregarded the rules. The killer killed because he disregarded the rules.

To each according to the crime? The victim received improper punishment - life itself. Riding on banned site is not a sin of death. The criminal infringed a traffic law. Accident caused by a violation is intentional crime. Intent to kill is configured at the time the traffic rule is broken.

Yes, the survivor, once simply called irresponsible driver, now a criminal, will have to pay for the crime.

Would the same crime, however, have had that much attention had not the victim been the child famous people?

Ironic

I find it ironic that the country whose flag I fought for the right to wear in my own country - out of sheer sympathy - now prevents me from flying my own country's flag at my own house - out of much more than sympathy, for what one feels for one's own country goes beyond sympathy.

I'm not and I have never claimed to want to be American, but I was willing to have their flag spread out on my chest, simply to say "I'm on your side on this battle." But I will always be Brazilian, and if my flag can't be flown at my own house house, no other flag will. I will honor no place that does not allow me to honor my own.

And how will I ever face my family again? When any one of them questions how come a Brazilian flies an American flag at her house while her Brazilian flag is no where to be seen - what am I to say? This is not a house I happen to be living in - it is my own house. I could definitely say I fly it out of respect. But at the expense of my own?

How can I justify flying any other flag at the expense of my own? Has my country turned its back on me? Have I fled here for fear of persecution or extreme hardship? Am I ashamed of who I am or where I am from? The answer to all of these questions is a resounding No! I have all reasons to be proud of who I am and where I am from. Far from being perfect, Brazil never gave me a reason to deny it.

Out of respect for the country I live in I will fly their flag, but not at the expense of my own. Out of respect for my country, other flag will not stand at my own house if I am not given the right to fly my own.

Maybe this should be a lesson learned - never fight battles that are not your own. The ones you fight for give you no guarantee they will fight yours when you need them.

We travel together

The story of us, if someday be told, must be told as the story of our travels.
My husband and I have in common, among very few other things, the love for traveling to new places. One thing that I have that he does not is the love for planning, and perfecting the plan until it's fool-proofed.
I think the first trip we took together was to NYC. I do not remember why. We had been dating for less than a month.

Howe Caverns happened while we were still dating. He had promised to take me there many times before. We finally did it. The way back was probably more fun than the whole trip because some bus driver pushed us out of the toll booth, and we spent a few minutes driving him crazy by not letting him pass us at 45 miles an hour.

The next long trip we took was to Gordon College, Nick's Famous Roastbeef and Boston. After that trip I realized I needed to do planning. I saw Boston, but I had not a clue of where anything I had seen was. I was letting Dean show me around and Dean, unlike me, has a very intuitive way of going about his trip. He finds things as he goes and does not bother going into extended explanations of how we got here and where we go from here.

That was not satisfactory to me. Where he felt freedom I felt lost. I had not a single idea of where I was and how to get home. I could never survive having so little control over my itinerary.
Things were about to change.

To Epcot for Independence day fireworks

Ok, to Epcot! Directions set. We're good to go. I was surprised at how easy it was driving there (except for my mistakenly sending my husband in the wrong direction - as usual I never lay out the map's compass points according to the real life compass points).

I was also surprised at how easy it was parking and getting to the park gate. Everything was so organized!

Finally I saw it - the Epcot ball. I had not the slightest idea of what to expect from the ride in there, but I knew what I was looking at. The silver colored AT&T ball was staring at me right in the face and saying "you really are here! just as you planned for months - you're here! that's it! It can't get any better!" Well, it could. And it did.

I was so impatient. I had to take my picture before we even went in.

Dean had already been there. Not in the summer time. He was surprised at how empty the place was. He hardly waited in line compared to what he had experienced before.

Now, Brazilians! Lots of them! They walked in packs! Wearing the same travel agency shirts, with a travel guide going ahead of them with a travel agency flag! Every where we looked there they were! Being loud and speaking my good old Portuguese. Teenagers in its majority. It's a big to do for teens in Brazil to visit Disney in their winter vacation. We began calling those colored-shirt groups "THE BRAZILIAN INVASION!"

My biggest fear while planning the trip was to not know what to do once I got there. For weeks prior I had haunted my husband with a park map and the question - "let's choose our rides?" Once I started that fear almost disappeared. We looked at the park map, picked the rides we wanted to go on the spot and drafted a very primitive route for that first day. Since we were really there for the fireworks, we were more worried about walking around and hitting rides as we went.

And even at that relaxed pace we hit almost every ride we chose.

Epcot has to sections - Future World and World Show case. We hit future world first. Dean wanted me to see some rides he already knew, and I was not sure to what extent I should be doing every little thing that was available to be done. So we did waste some precious time with useless rides and games.
We did World Showcase second because it was toward the end of the park. Even though we were not worried about hitting every ride, we did went into the Canada and the Mexican rides. And we ate sauerkraut in Germany.
Again, we were only there for the 4th of July fireworks. Unfortunately the time for the fire works was not posted anywhere. More time wasted just sitting there waiting for it. Had we known it would have been another 90 minutes till the event, we'd have done much more.

Finally they started. We saw them from Norway. The first part really was not 4th of July. It was their regular thing. Beautiful I must say, but I was feeling kind of disappointed because the website did say 4th of July fireworks. After the regular presentation though, they announced the 4th of July celebration and fireworks started to the sound of patriotic songs.

I'm not an American, but my husband is. And I wanted to make his 4th of July as patriotic as possible. It did work. We could go back home now. We would be back again in 3 days.

4th of July travel

We left home on Sunday, very early in the morning. We had to wake up at 3 to leave home by 4 so we could be at the airport by 7.
Surprise, surprise! We did not leave home at 4, but at 4:16.
So we could not make it on the time frame we had established for ourselves. What else is new?
Oh and how I really want to murder my husband when I tell him I want to be in bed by sunset so we actually get hours of sleep before we have to get up at ungodly hours to catch a plane. He does not take me seriously! He does nothing to help my request come true.
I would have felt so much better getting up at 3 am had I gone to bed by 9 pm the night before instead of at 11:30.
Whine.
But we did make it, as tired as I could ever be, we made it to the airport, we made it to the airplane, we made it to the car rental place, we made it to the motel.
On the way to the airport Dean showed me the forecast. What? Thunderstorms? In Florida? For the whole week? That does not sound fair. I want a refund!
Nothing to worry, says Dean. It's common to have forecasts like these. It's probably a 30% chance of rainstorms. In less than 48 hours I would be yelling at him to shut up because everytime he opened his mouth to say it could not get worse... IT DID!

It the beginning of a glorious 4th of July. We were in Orlando, Florida!
A couple of days before I went online to check out independence day fireworks. I had gotten this awesome 5 tickets for the price of 3 for Disney Parks, which meant that we had to find to extra days to use those tickets. I did not think it would happen, but the deal wouldn't hurt anyone. After all we really just wanted 3 days at Disney, and 2 at Universal. By the end of my vacation I was glad I did get the deal. Things would not have been as fun.
Having 5 for the price of three meant we could go hang out at Disney on the very same day we arrived, and still have one extra ticket just for ha-has. That meant we did not have to go looking for fireworks in Orlando, we could go straight to the park.
And that's how come I ended up in the Disney website, a couple of days before our trip, trying to find out if they would have independence day special fireworks.
Epcot came up on my search, so it was settled. We were going to Epcot on Independence Sunday.

On the way to Orlando I could only talk about our trip to... England??? Yes, call me crazy, I was already planning our next vacation, and super excited about it, but the current vacation hadn't even started yet. Half way through the trip I figured I'd better put England on hold and start getting into Orlando. After all I could not ruin the trip to the land of dreams, just because I was excited about my freakish never-ending planning mania.

We got to an Orlando of cloudy cloudy skies. But oh so hot and oh so humid.

We got there with directions, prices and fees, toll roads and non-toll roads all planned out thanks to my freakish never-ending, always aiming for perfection planning mania. Unfortunately that does not prevent mishaps from happening. And we did yell at each in the car. Nope. not a novelty either, but an event that I intend to rid ourselves from. If only I had planned it a little bit more.

The motel, just as we saw on the internet, had a waffle house for a neighbor. We walked over there for lunch. Waffle House is Dean's favorite ever restaurant, so the picture of the motel right next to it heavily influenced my decision.
Oh, and I then discovered that even though it was past lunch time I could order breakfast food!!!! That is awesome.

packed full

I intended to blog about each of my days in Orlando. Unfortunately that did not work. The reason was very simple, I was a human leftover by the end of the day.

Each day we would wake up at 7:30 expecting to leave the house at 8:30, which did not always happen.

Each day we would walk and stand in line, and walk and stand in line for the whole day, except for the time we were eating and actually on some ride. We did not give up on the fun until the day was done, that is, at around 10 or 11 pm. That means that by the time we got back to the motel I really had not more energy for anythign other than a hot shower and bed.

I was hoping my husband would give me a foot massage, because my feet were so sore. But he on the other hand was hoping I would give him a back massage. No one's expectations were fulfilled because the other person was just about done with the day.

But each minute was worth it all. The sore feet, the few hours of sleep, the unfulfilled expectations... even the rain that soaked us on Monday as we desperately tried to get one more ride out of the day.

And the lack of live blogging does not mean our vacation will go untold.

I brought home every map and pictures of the places we've been too. Listening to my husband describing the vacation to his parents has also given me more insight of what to write.

Oh, yes, days like these must be registered, each and every one of them, their emotions, their surprises, their disappointments...

They're coming soon to a blog near you.

This also must pass...

As it happens to all things, this vacation also must pass. That was the sentence in my mind all the way home.

Being in Disney was a dream. A dream I had never dreamed of as a child, but a dream nonetheless. Was I in the same place I had seen on TV so many times? Was I really in the place where only well-off Brazilian kids get to go when they turn 15?

Then Universal Studios and the world of Harry Potter as its main attraction. Really I was there, in Hogwarts, the place I had never really cared about, where the little wizard guy I never really cared much about learned his tricks, was now the place I did not want to leave ever again. It was like living a dream.

I did not want those days to end. And they were such long days that indeed they seemed as if they would never end.Thursday night however reminded me that my last day in the land of dreams was coming. One more day, and this too must pass.

I made it a point of enjoying every minute of my last day, so that the thought would not cross my mind until I was done.

And from 8:30 am till 12 am, I was livin' it! As we entered the tram to drive back to the parking lot of the last park - Disney's Magic Kingdom - I then realized it was over. Back to old lives, back to reality. The moment we returned the rental car and entered that airport; the moment we did the check-in; the moment we went through security and entered the boarding area. Each moment felt like the buzzing of the alarm clock, calling me back to the life I really lead. The life made up of responsibilities, housecleaning, homework, paychecks.

What keeps me going through this old real life? Well, there's that guy who goes with me in every dream - my husband, he does not go away in the end. There's that person who has been with me forever and graciously allows me dreams-come-true experiences, my God. And there's the fact that I am always planning my next dream-come-true experience.

Other than that I'd be a liar if said real life is bad. Real life really is not bad, it's just filled with grown-up responsibilities, dead-lines, and hard work that must be done whether or not I feel like it.

Dreams allow me to do exactly what I want, and they are all about the fun. Real life tells me either I do certain things that are not fun at specific times and with a specific intensity, or fun will never be possible again.

Real life is the back stage of dreams - it must be there, but it does not look as glamorous.

Each world cup has a mark

Each world cup enters history with a nickname, something it has been its most impressive characteristic, either good or bad, and that is usually reflected in the final game, that which decides the world champion.

In the U.S. 1994, for instance, the cup in which Brazil consecrated itself as the first ever 4-times champion, the world cup was known for its lack of effective soccer and of goals. So much that the gran-finale was decided in penalty kicks and the move that made Brazil champion was an anti-goal - Toto Schilacci, Italy's greatest hero, on the "Jesus vs. Buddha duel", kicked the ball out. Taffarel, the Brazilian goalie, had to do nothing but run for the hug of victory.

I was a child then. I had never seen my country, the country of soccer, win a world cup. For me, it was about time. It was celebrated just as my mom before me celebrated the bi-championship, and my grandma before her celebrated the first championship, and both of them celebrated the tri-championship. It was my turn! I was finally able to enter full Brazilian-hood by celebrating the tetra-world-championship.

But it was a sad victory nonetheless. On the day after I was faced with the sad reality spread out on news papers and TV: Brazil won indeed, legitimately, but we were really celebrating the victory of an ugly soccer. Not the beauty that had won the first 3 championships of my parents, not the beauty of the "lost generation of the 70's and 80's". We had won playing a new type of soccer, bred during the 90's, that was strictly made for winning games, without much concern for entertaining the fans or humiliating the adversary; without much concern for scoring as many goals as possible. The only thing wanted was to "get the darn job done."

France 1998, a new type of world cup - the sell-out. Brazil went all the way to the finals, to lose to the hosts... in a weird way. A very weird way indeed, that led to lawsuits and the likes. That world cup was the sole responsible for my falling out of love with soccer. A very bitter experience indeed, because up until that point soccer was directly linked to my brazilianhood. Being Brazilian meant being in love with soccer. I had to rediscover what it meant to say "I'm Brazilian." I was living in the U.S. then, which made things just a little bit more complicated. How do you try to figure out what it means to belong to a country living in another one?

Do I know what the two following world cups were famous for? Not a clue. I was too busy trying to figure out how to feel about the whole deal.

I do not know what Japan/South Korea 2002 was marked by. I was not a soccer lover then. But Brazil did take that one, giving my little brother the same status I once achieved - that of feeling fully Brazilian. I was happy for him. But I did not know how to feel about it myself.

In Germany 2006 I was in America again. And part of me wanted to follow it, and part of me wanted Brazil to win. But part of me also did not want to get hurt again. And it did. France. The same team that had defeated my homeland 8 years before. Undefeated had we gone for 8 years, leading millions to believe we could believe again, just to lose for the same team that had last defeated us. Nope, greater humiliation could not exist.

By then I was dating a guy who enjoyed soccer and that slowly led me into believing I could follow it again. Not with childish blind love anymore. I was a grown-up then. I could enjoy soccer and Brazilian-hood as a grown Brazilian woman - not too passionate, not indifferent either. Just with something irrational telling me Brazil will always be the best, and Argentina will always be the evil that must be stopped from ever winning another world cup.

Finally then, you ask, what has South Africa 2010 been marked by? something good or something bad?

Something bad. Something really bad. Africa 2010 has been stained by bad referee performance. Bad calls on game sequences, poor decisions on discipline management.

Has the final been stained by such? You bet it has. Players should have gotten red cards and be kicked out of the game, but were not. Players who faked injuries were rewarded not only on this game but in every other during the tournament.

The game was boring. Not because no one scored for 117 minutes, but because no one played soccer for 120 minutes!

The sequence that gave the Spaniards the goal to the championship was born from a bad call - the ref simply did not give the Dutch the corner kick they deserved. He gave ball possession to Spain who went ahead and scored.

Could the end result have been different had the ref given Holland their corner kick? We will now never know. There is no "what-if" in history. There is only "what-it-is". Good or Bad, it is what it is.

Disney and the future of my plans

Next Sunday is July 4. That day we are heading to Orlando, Florida.

There will spend three days at Disney and two days at Universal. I can not wait. The trip is all planned out. I hope it comes out okay. The Bible does say that we must say "if God wills, not only will we live, but we'll also do this or that."

I'm a big time planner. I love to plan. I could get paid to do just that forever.

So I need to keep in mind that God is the one that will make plans come true - or not. If he wills, not only will he give me another day, another year of life, but he will also allow me to follow through with my plans.

God is in control. I must never forget that.

Since this Monday I'm officially on vacation. I spent the day at the computer planning our next trip. Next year, to England. I had also included 2 days in Paris. Then I put two more days to visit castles and go on the French Riviera.

I came to the conclusion that such plan would not work for a reason - England is in Britain. Britain also includes Scotland and Ireland (and Wales too, but we have no interest in it).

England is the land of Robin Hood, King Arthur, it has Oxford, it has the castles of the royalty. London has so many museums and monuments, Liverpool has the Beatles. There is also Stonehenge and Bath (city with Roman bath houses). We can not leave out the stopping for fish and chips, traditional English dish.

Scotland has the Loch Ness and the highlands landscapes, scenes of Harry Potter, a haunted castle (and many other beautiful castles), malt whisky distilleries ... And we can not leave out the fried Mars bar, apparently a Scottish staple.

And in Ireland ... - I do not know yet what's in Ireland, but Dean wants to go to a traditional Irish Pub.

And after all his ancestors are Scottish, Irish and English. He owes it to himself to go there and get to know the place.

So if we go to England, how to not tour the UK's other countries but instead take a rushed tour of France?

Why not leave France for another tour in which she will dedicate to 6 or 7 days? 6 days in France, eight days in Italy, seven days in Greece - a trip of three weeks ... is of good size.

God is still in control. And as the saying goes "The future belongs to God."

ancient writing

Last week I had to proctor 6th graders English exam. At one point I just stood in front of the class and watched. Everyone seemed to be working on an open response question, all the pens were moving. Then the thought hit it - "How long till handwriting is considered ancient history?"

No, really. How long till people look back in history and say, "Children used to be taught how to handwrite?!?! Impressive!!!!"

How long till handwriting becomes unrecognizable squiggles on a page, like hieroglyphs are to us?

How long?

How long till opening a dictionary is not longer thought of when trying to find out the spelling of a word? I still think of it, but hardly ever do it. I just type the word as best as I can and let self-correction red-mark it in case it's wrong. When It is wrong, they give me a list of possibilities... I just have to pick the right one and my spelling problem is solved.

But how long until people no longer understand that we used to also be able do that using dictionaries? How long until they ask, "Did people have to go all the way up to a shelf and pull out a heavy bulky book and look for a word?"

How long until paper books is something that will only be found in museums. How long till people say, "Can you imagine all that paper around the house!" "Can you imagine not being able to find a word or phrase immediately, and just having to mark every page with little color piece of paper!"(they won't know the word post-its).

Oh, I believe these days are coming. Not soon, not for any of us alive today to see. But I think we will be part of an ancient civilization someday - if Jesus doesn't return before that - a civilization known for the use of ink and paper. And the environmentalists will have to find something other than cutting-trees-for-paper-production problem to solve.

The only thing we know for sure

The only thing we can know for sure in life is that death is coming. Sooner, later, painless or painful, it is the only thing we can be certain of - every one that lives must die some day.

That's a humbling wondrous truth.

Aflac

I have not yet come to a conclusion of whether or not to get aflac.

but I have come to a conclusion of what plans I definetely will not get.

disability plan is for those first 3 months in which regular disability does not kick in, but you still remain without a paycheck, says the aflac guy. And he goes on to ask us how many of us can't wait for the next paycheck? what would happen if we had to go without a paycheck for the next 3 months?

To me the answer is simple, very simple - our savings would suffer. Because my husband and I make a point of putting money aside for savings every paycheck, we know that we could go a few months without income, because our savings would take care of us ad our bills.

Aflac disability plan seems to me a great idea for anyone who lives to the most of their financial abilities. Anyone with credit card debt, any one who uses every penny of their paycheck every week.

It's not smart for people who choose to live below it in order to save or the future like we do. We are already doing aflac's job for ourselves.

Not up for discussion

Growing up I always heard the "very wise" saying - "Soccer, politics and religion are not up for discussion."
The idea is that those things are very personal and no one has the right to tell someone else what to think about it, no one has the right to tell someone else they are wrong, no one has the right to tell someone else they should consider changing their mind. Those three areas of a person's life are holy sanctuaries that must remain individual and untouched by the rest of the world - alienated if you will forgive me the Marxist word. Each person has their own opinions and no one should tell him/her that they are wrong. Because after all there is no right or wrong on these three areas. There are only opinions. And in the end they affect no one else for good or for worse.
Right?
I beg to differ. Yes, you can argue that most of the beliefs we hold are personal, but you can not argue that they must remain untouched by the rest of the world. You can not argue that they affect no one else. You can not say that there are no consequences to my opinions.
So can we really throw politics, religion and soccer in the same bag of sanctuary fields that must remain untouched by the world? Are these 3 things the same thing?
Let me start with soccer.
Soccer - as sacred to any Brazilian as the superbowl is to any American. Can we tell people that they should change teams? Does the fact that your team wins or loses has an ever lasting effect on your well-being? Not really, not to any mentally healthy human. The nature of sports is to be a win-lose event. The side you choose to take is completely arbitrary, and it really does not matter in the end, because teams will win and teams will lose at any given time for any given reason. Soccer is about passion - rational or irrational. And it is about recreation and fun. Sides in soccer, as in any sport, are necessary.
You can maybe convince a person who hates losing that he should consider choosing a stronger team. But in the end - what's the point? No team is ever invincible.
You can however argue of the fairness of a game; over whether or not new rules should be added. These will have long lasting consequences to how the game is to be played so that things get done right. Oops, I guess I am not in the politics field.
So ok, let's go to the next word:
Politics - Can I tell people that their political views are wrong and that they should change them? Does the fact that a political move or trend gets put into place make any long lasting difference in people's lives? Oh, yes it does. The world is made up of politics. It might not be easy to tell best practices from bad practices. It might be hard to tell which moves will have better or worse consequences. But since when difficulty of interpretation is a reason for anyone to quit trying to understand things that will affect their lives? Since when difficulty of interpretation is a reason to say we should stop trying to figure this out and let it be - when what happens because of that will affect the way we live? The fate of those who don't care if to be controlled by those who do. It's your choice to make - you can choose not to argue - but decisions will be made and you will have to live with its consequences.
So yes, politics can and should be up for discussion. It's normal to have differing points of view, and they must all be legitimate - but choosing such points of view is not arbitrary. They have reasons that back them up, ideologies, historical backgrounds, and projections for the future. All of these are things that can be measured and evaluated. Politics must be up for discussion, because politics influences our lives in very real ways.

Religion is one area that people who don't have will say it's just like soccer. Some people who have a religion will also say it really does not matter. You can't tell people which one is right or wrong, better or worse. The major issue here is that choosing are religion seems like an arbitrary decision, just like choosing a soccer team. Not so much like choosing a political side, in which one must ponder ideologies, history and projections for the future. The reason why this confusion happens is that religion is based on faith. And faith is often confused with irrational preference. However anyone who takes religion seriously knows that what you believe about the spiritual world affects the way you live in the material world. religion is not so much about how its consequences affect the world, but more about how it affects the individual who holds that faith. But it still deals with serious long lasting, I dare say ever lasting consequences. To me a Christian, being told I can't talk to another person about my religion is like being told not to tell anyone about the map to El Dorado I just found. It will change your life! I must tell you about it! You may choose not to believe it, but you will be passing on the chance of a lifetime. No, it's more than that. To me a Christian, being told religion is not something that must be up for discussion is like being told not tell people that they are in jail, but that I have found a way to escape. Yes, I can escape alone. But why would I want to do that? I do know that every religion deals with getting man back in touch with the spiritual world. Religion is about the spiritual world, a world we don't see our touch or smell, but that is very real. You can choose to ignore it, but it still is a reality. You can choose not to make decisions, but that means someone else will make them for you. You might not harm anyone with your decisions but yourself, but you must be willing to take that chance. So religion must be discussed.

Out of all three fields, only soccer is really irrelevant enough to fit the category of things that are not up to discussion, and only when it has to do with personal preference for a team. So much for popular wisdom.
Let's bring politics and religion back to the place the deserve - subjects that matter, and that must be "up for discussion", regardless of whether or not we all get to a consensus on them.

going to the beach is a fact of life - life taking a shower

I could never enjoy the sun as much as I do now if I did not have to deal with the winter for so long.
In Brazil, more specifically in Salvador da Bahia we are spoiled. We have sun and warth all year long. We hop on the car and run to the beach 52 Saturdays a year - those of us who are not church people do it 52 Sundays a year as well.
Going to the beach is not a special event like going on vacation. It is a matter of fact event like taking a shower or eating lunch. It's a fact of life.

Then I moved to New England. And for months out of the year I can't even put on shorts and flip-flops. I never thought anyone could survive in such a situation. I never thought anyone, let alone my always cold self, coud endure such low temperatures and for so long.

It turns out I can. And if I can anyone can.

But now I value the sun much more than before. Now when I open my mouth to say "What a beautiful day!" the words are the same, but the meaning is different:

What a beautiful day! (I must enjoy every minute of it before it is taken from me and it will be another 8 months before I can have it again!!!

instead of

What a beautiful day! Maybe I can go to the beach.... nah, maybe next week.

those who do and those who don't

"The fate of those who don't like politics is to be controlled but those who do." - I don't know who said that for the first time, but my high school teachers hammered that idea into my head. If you don't care about politics, people that care will get involved and they will make the decisions for you. If you don't get involved, someone else will - and they will make the decisions for you. Will you like those decisions? Who knows! the fact of the matter, however, is that decisions will be made, by someone, whether you like it o

panis et circenses

I was just on the phone with grandma. She wondered if people here in America were going home in the middle of the day to watch the World Cup games.
No, they are not. Neither do I have the right to go home to watch Brazil play.
I have a hard time getting used to the fact that the whole country does not come to a halt because of the World Cup games.
My whole life it has always been like that - every four years, banks, grocery stores, bus services, schools - everything that can be stopped stops for four hours (enough time for people to get home, watch the game and then go back to work), during every single Brazilian game in the World Cup.
Do I have a hard time getting used to the idea that the world cup is not a national event? Heck I do! It does not even seem real that anyone would consider not halting the country for 4 hours. t does not seem real.
But do I think this practice is worthy of a respectable country? No. I don't think any respectable country should halt all of its activities because of a sports event. The rational part of me does not believe that any country who takes itself seriously should voluntarily desert its streets, lock themselves inside theirs houses and forget there's anything else in the world that's worth anything for a month, just so they can cheer for Brazil in the World Cup.
Unfortunately, our politicians know that nothing else but soccer will make it to the news during that time, so, like children left alone in the house, they play at will will our precious assets. The best example ever of the Roman poet's panis et circenses (bread and circus). Keep the people busy with other thins than what really matters.
yes, it feels weird, it just does not feel real that any country can be living their lives as if nothing was really going on during the world cup. But rationally speaking, it feels right.

the cat

her name is Bianca. But we really only say her name when someone inquires about it.
usually her name is Kitty, Cat, or just plain Retard.
yes, and that is not because we are mad at her. It's because we have been convinced by every other thing that she does that she is, to use politically correct and school acceptable vocabulary, a cat with special needs, a cat that is mentally challenged. We have come to grips with the fact that she will never be normal.
I should start a blog only about the crazy things the cat does. but so much of it is visual.
she's a mix of siamese and calico, which already gives her a very intersting look, and accoridng to peopel that understand cats, a very interesting personality.
I know nothing of cats personalities. I know they are not dogs! They have a mind of their own.
As for our cat...
She runs around like crazy. She jumps up at the least sign of noise or movement - someday she will die of heart attack.

She whines and meows for no apparent reason - oh, other than "if you guys will make noises non-stop, so will I". Does she think she can talk?

She licks herself obsessively.

She sits in front of the air vent and stares at it as the cold air blows. She sits in front of the lazy-suzan everyday awaiting for a mouse that is no longer there.

She jumps on top of my husband at will, and without asking for permission she walks all over him.

She must meow when we are talking and she must sit when we are all sitting, and she must lay down when we are all laying down. She must bite my husband - only my husband - when her litter is full, her water is empty, and her food is getting low. - Does she think he is her faithful servant?

She ... oh that stupid idiotic cat ... she must get herself out the door, or inside cabinets everytime doors are open, even though she knows she will get locked in (or out) and that she will enter a complete stage of despair as soon as that happens!!!

She must do things that get her in toruble ove and over again. Why????

She has an obsession for twisties and coffee stirrers. She steals them right off your cup if your eyes are fixed on the TV long enough.

MY question as I look at her and watch her go about leading her crazy life as if we were merely part of the furniture is - what goes on in her mind.

The phrase "a penny for your thoughts" never meant so much to me. A penny? Heck, I'd give up a whole paycheck. I'd love to know what goes on in her mind - does she think? what does she think? in what language? does she deal with consequences? how? Sometimes I think consequences are not part of her thinking process. SHe only understands a consequence is coming when she already acted.

Example - we get home and see a chewed up cable. She sees that we see the cable. She halts. We turn to look at her. She hides.

If for one day I could be a cat. If for one day I could be in her brain. Just to know how she thinks - or of she thinks. Or, if she does think, does she think about the fact that she thinks? No, that would make her rational.

scribbling

Humility is not thinking less Of yourself. It is thinking of yourself less.

My favorite person and I - My love is a special person

Men react negatively to what they don't understand.

The word millennium is not in the Bible. But neither is the word trinity - so that is not a good argument to use when discussing the Millennium.

"How do you know it's from God?" "Oh you just know it." That's not my faith - my faith is grounded on something, but faith is based on the Bible and it is reasonable - as paradoxical as this might sound.

The holy spirit doesn't want us to talk about him, it wants us to talk about Christ - that's why he wad sent.

The fire of God's holy wrath.

a disclaimer for the constitution

The Constitution of the United States is sold with a disclaimer?
I am unaware of any situation in which the magna carta of a nation, while valid or not, is sold with a disclaimer to caution parents against the ideas contained in it.

http://www.620wtmj.com/shows/charliesykes/95943194.html