Learn to play the guitar in Russian

The hardest part about learning how to play the guitar in English is having to re-learn music language.

You'd think it's the reading of the staff or the positioning of your fingers. Well, those are all pretty hard. (I should have learned it as a child. Instead I played the brat and lost my chance. And my mom was never very much adept of second chances)

But, yeah, those are all hard things to learn. However those are hard things for everyone one.

It's hard having to understand that DÓ RÉ MI FÁ SOL LÁ SI are now called C D E F G A B

Bemol and sustenido are flat or sharp, and I don't even know which one is which.

See, maybe if you are a musician, those transfers are easier to you. But I am not. I am just a girl who likes to sing her favorite songs and who would like to play them in the guitar, just for fun.

Makes me think of my ELL students trying to learn science, math, social studies in English. They are not scientists or mathematicians, or historians or geographers. They are just normal children trying to survive in school.

Just like you and me once were.

And they have to relearn school language in English.

If you want to understand how your ELL students feel in your class, trying learning music in Russian or something.

My experience at a laundromat - clueless!!! like a sore thumb

This is a new experience for me - Today I was at a laundromat drying my clothes.

Quite an adventure.

I had no idea what to do at first. Here I was, trying to read every sign and pretend I was in complete control of the situation.

Can you imagine the scene? - hope your dryer never breaks down on you.

It's negative Celsius outside, by the way. Just a little side note. NEGATIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NE-GA-TIVE! Hey! I'm from Brazil, remember! Negative Celsius is bad!

• • Then I found out they have this wheeled basket I could have used to push my wet laundry around the store instead of dragging the bag across the floor.
    
    Everything about my being there screamed: NEWBIE.
    
    Now I understand the true meaning of the phrase "sticking out like a sore thumb"
  • Maybe you're not supposed to talk to other people's children in a laundromat. This lady was looking at me like I was the devil. I took a quick look at myself - not wearing a mini skirt, tight pants, low cuts... It's winter! I'm not myself! Why was she looking at me like I was the devil? I just smiled at the little guy and said "excuse me little guy, can I walk by here?"
    
    And by the way!!! The guy running the place was Asian!!! Just like in the song!!! "UN, DOS, TRES! TEM JAPONES LÁ NA LAVANDERIA! UN, DOS, TRES! UM PASSA E O OUTRO TRAZ!"
    
    I went to him to ask for coins, because I no longer carry this ancient form of money called cash on me. Had to go get some at the ATM and go to the guy to exchange it for coins!
    
    I sort of hoped they's do that, because it would be a smart thing to do at a coin-op laundromat. And I was right.
    
    I am pretty smart!
    
    Then I wanted to say ARIGATO, to show off what's left of my Japanese skills, but I was afraid he was like Korean or Chinese and kicked me out of his place for offensive behavior to his culture!
    
    So I just played the ignorant monolingual and said, "Thanks!"

Learning a new game

I learned to play a new game last week. It's called Mancala. No, I know you know that Mancala is not a NEW game per se. it's a new game for me however.

I had seen children playing. And I even knew my husband had played it as a kid, but I had not the slightest idea what on earth that game was. to me it was just a bunch of little marbles being moved around. And fast. My goodness, those kids move those marbles around fast!

Anyway, one of my students became my teacher last week and taught me how to play the mancala and I am very happy about it. I love learning new thigns. Especially new games!

Paul on SNL

Yes, I am talking about Paul McCartney, the only other man in my life other than my husband and my two brothers.

He will be on SNL this Saturday and I will try to go see him.

And no, I don't want to go see him just because I am desperately in love wit him. I probably would not go through the trouble of getting in SNL if I did not have a very specific goal in my mind. I want Paul to receive my book. The one I wrote about the time machine. "The Little Girl from Yesterday".

I don't care if I never talk to him, though I wold appreciate the chance. I want him to read my book. Come on, I have waited my whole entire life to get this book to him. Only now I felt I actually had the knowledge to translate it into English. Now that it's ready, it's time he gets a copy of it.

So I don't care if he doesn't talk to me. I just want him to read my book.
LOL! Any resemblance to Paperback Writer is a mere coincidence.

Hard part of buying a guitar: learning how to play

So, I bought my guitar. I bought a Dean. No, not because it is the name of my love, well, ok, yes, it is because it's the name of my love, but I made sure to ask around first. People said it is a good guitar.

So I went to the store and checked out some models. I really wanted to buy the sunburst one, because being desperately in love with Paul McCartney - the other love of my life - I figured I'd get something that reminded me of him. Besides, the first guitar I ever saw in my life, in my church, was like that and I remember being mesmerized by the way the colors blended together. It was like... candy.

But then I thought, "No, I don't want to get something just to look like it's Paul McCartney's stuff. Besides, I am never going to be a hundredth of what he is, so... no. I actually want something that looks girly, like me. I wanted one that looked really made of pixie dust. However Dean guitars did not have any pixie-dusty stuff, and I really wanted the Dean. SO I got a red one. ... Yeah, girly enough. Cute like me. It reminds me of Kevin - my first car.

Once I knew what I wanted, I just waited fro Black Friday to come along and ordered it online. The discount? The discount was lousy. So much for waiting for Black Friday discounts. 15%. 15%??? What kind of a Black Friday sale gives you a mere 15-freaking-% discount? I don't know!!! Lousy. But I had to get my guitar on that day or I'd die!

No my guitar is here and I am trying to figure out how to learn it. I'm either a lousy learner or this guitar playing thing really is not the easiest thing in the world.

The tip of my fingers are hurting. My baby says that's how it's supposed to be. Man! I wish it was just like this - Get a guitar and Boom! Now you magically know how to play anything you want, starting with Puff the Magic Dragon, passing by Sandy & Junior, the king - Roberto - and ending with the Beatles.

Can't it just be that easy?

Abbey Road Brasileira - us - young, free and irresponsible

left to right:

Lua,*

Jamile,

Beta,*

Fernanda,

Vika,*

Samara.

*BFFs

Us - Beta, Lua and I - the Die Hard Trio. Someone decided to call Us that because Us were always together. Up and down the city. Laughing & crying, fighting & making up. Us. Always together. Always Us.

And we did lots of crazy stuff together.

Some of them were caught on camera:

• Us laying on the floor of the parking garage at the mall.

• Us on the crosswalk “a la Abbey Road”. Just that we were dancing and jumping, instead of calmly crossing like John, Paul, George and Ringo.

• Us swinging from the lamp post in front of McDonald's.

• Us holding the covers of all our Beatles CDs.

• Us throwing eggs on my head to celebrate my b-day.

• Us sleeping over at my aunt's.

• Us doing group hug.

• Us at my wedding.

Lots of crazy stuff we did together were never caught on camera:

• Us crying on each other's shoulder every time a boyfriend did not work out.

• Us making plans to live together and eat Ramen Noodles for ever.

• Us making plans of world domination.

• Us yelling at each other for never getting a chance to say anything.

• Us yelling at each other for being late for our meeting at the mall.

• Us screaming at the TV while we watched an old Beatles TV show.

• Us being loud and messy on the bus.

• Us growing apart and growing closer again.

• Us saying we were sorry.

• Us telling secrets that we won't even tell our moms.

Us. Always Us.

I miss Us.

I miss having friends like Us.

No books? No texting? No way!

So I went for the MTEL on Saturday morning. And I was aware that there was a no electronics policy. So I left my cell in the car and grabbed myself a book. As soon as I walked into the classroom and sat down however, the proctor told me - you must not have a book on you.

A book? I thought. Must not have? Must not have a book?

Ok, I said. What do I do with it? Put it away by the window together with everyone else's pocket books.

Well, a policy is a policy, those who have the power make them, those who have working brains obey them. So I put the book away.

And for the next 30 minutes I sat there suffering from some sort of withdrawal syndrome - no book to read, no phone to mess around with. What am I supposed to do? I felt weird. I felt empty. I felt as if those 30 minutes would never come back. And I was wasting them by doing nothing.

Weird do-nothing feeling! Not used to it.

best of both worlds? can't have it.

I miss my friends.

When it comes that time in which you just want to be irresponsible, and do silly things, and just be your silly old self, you realize you miss your friends more than everything in life.

It's november 19, 2010, and I just found out Paul McCartney - yes, Paul McCartney, my favorite singer ever and the only guy I've liked for longer than my husband - is going to be playing at the SNL on December 11.

My husband said he'd come with me to NYC, to try something insane - stand in line for stand-by tickets for SNL the night before.

"However," says hubby, "if you can get a girl friend to go with you, I will stay home."

My baby is doing that for me - stand a whole night in a line to TRY to see Mr. McCartney - for me. How could I possibly ask God for a husband better than that? A husband who will put up with my madness?

I know he'd rather not go. He'd rather stay home and sleep in his nice cozy bed. If only I had a friend to go with me.

And that's when I realized - I have those friends. I have friends who would drop everything and come on an insane trip to try to see Paul, with me, without thinking twice. But they live a continent away.

I look around me, where I live, in this country I chose to be my home, and I don't see a single friend I'd dare to invite to join in for one of my crazy ideas.

Other than my husband, this angel sent from heaven, no one else would drop everything for me.

They say we only value things after we lose them.

That's not true for me.

I always knew what the girls and I had was special. I always knew our friendship was the most precious jewel I could have. I always knew it. We knew it. From the moment we decided we were going to be best friends, no matter what, we knew we were on to something special.

I just didn't realize how terribly I'd miss it. And how guilty I'd feel for having chosen to leave.

Even though our friendship is still there, I am not. I'm here, in the US - all by myself - while they are there, in my Brazil, with the rest of the stuff I chose to leave behind.

Maybe it's true that you can't have the best of both worlds.

I miss you, girls. Please, forgive me.

more crazy dreams: Freedom, mom, and Paul McCartney

Why did I care so little about being with my family when I was a teenager? While everyone of my peers was terrified about spending a weekend away from mom and dad, I couldn't wait to get out of the house and see the world. "How silly can they be?" I asked myself.

Mom always told me, "I did not raise you for myself. I raised you to go out and see the world. I raised you to go after your dreams. I raised you to be free." So I guess she succeeded. I went out and saw the world. I followed my dreams. I didn't achieve everything I ever wanted, but I went after my dreams one by one with as much passion as I could, prioritizing the ones I thought were really important, leaving others in the back burner, I am still going after my dreams. The only part of that speech I could not accomplish was the "be free" part. I wake up every morning at 6 and go to work all day at a job I am not fond of. I left the job of my dreams to land something that would pay the bills and my dream vacations. Maybe I am free, just that I have to finance my own freedom. Mom also raised me to be responsible.

Why did I care so little about being with my family, while my peers were terrified about leaving home? Because mom told me too.

However today, as most of my peers are out in the world, with families of their own, and as they don't worry so much about being away from mom and dad anymore, why do I feel terribly homesick? Why do I miss mom and grandma and aunts more than anything? I do have a family of my own, as I have always dreamed of, ( no children, yet - I happen to value my freedom) but I wish, oh how I wish, I could just get in a car anytime and go see mommy, and just ask for a hug.

I had a nightmare last night. Mom and I were alone in a fancy house and someone bad tried to break in. I woke up crying, "Mom! Mommyyyy! Mo-o-o-o-ommm!" Mom came. We were at a pool house. With sliding window doors, and thick curtains. "It was just a bad dream. It's ok. Just make sure you lock the doors at night." That's when I woke up for real, and I was in my bed at Cross Street. With my husband's cat. My baby is away with his family. Just lock the doors, I remembered. Are the doors all locked? It's 12:30. Are the doors all locked? Well the doors to my floor are locked. What about the main doors to the house? I never lock them. Oh, my God, I never lock the main doors! And I am home alone! Of course I was still in a dream state. I ALWAYS lock the main doors. They are usually the only doors I lock. But in my half-awake half-asleep mind, I thought I never did. I tried called my baby, but he would not pick up the phone. He always says, "Wake me up if you have a nightmare." I tried.

I did not have a husband last night. I did not have Mommy last night. I was all alone... with my husband's cat to take care of.

Oh, you bet if someone broke into the house, the cat would be the last of my worries. I guess that shows I am not ready to be a mom.

But since my mind was half asleep, I closed my eyes again. Asked God to take care of me and my house, and went back to sleep.

I was with mommy, at the airport. And we spotted the one man I have loved since I was 10 years old. You guessed it! Paul McCartney! No fans. No crew. No band. No TV reporters. Just him. I'm sure he had his band with him. I am sure he was just wondering around the airport looking for something. I was hoping he was looking for me. But I knew he was not. There's a whole lot of things to do at an airport.

I was scared of talking to him and finding out he was not as nice as I always thought he'd be. But I went ahead anyway, and he was super nice. I asked for an autograph. "I can't talk right now. But give me 5 minutes and I will be back." And he was back! He gave me his autograph and I asked for a hug. A hug, of course. Would I have the nerve to ask for a hug in real life? Oh, I don't know. Maybe I will find it out someday. "Can I give you a hug?" it is the one thing I always ask him every time I have a dream in which he shows up. I was so mesmerized by having Paul right there that I could not talk about any subject for more than 5 seconds. It was like trying to fit everything you've always wanted to tell someone for the past 20 years in the few minutes you know you'll have that person with you. Then you'll never see him again.

"We're stuck here because our plane fell off the sky." "What?" Yup, I got his attention now. Just before he showed up, I saw a plane falling off the sky. I was the only one who had seen it and no one had paid attention to me until now. "Yes! I saw it! It was right over there! It just ...fell! Like this: voosh." He looked at where I was pointing as if what he had been thinking had started to make sense. Had he seen it too?

But then he really had to go. And so he did. "Nice meeting you." And only then I remembered, Your novel! Tell him about your novel! Oh, gee! Seriously? You could think of all mundane things in the world to spill out at Paul McCartney, except to tell him you wrote a novel? How stupid can you be? When will you have Paul McCartney's undivided attention again? Uh, never! Go after him! Run! And that's when I forgot I was a grown-up, I forgot Paul was walking around trying to be a normal person, I forgot Beatlemania was over and I ran and called out his name. Wow, I never knew calling out Paul McCartney's name would work out magic. Like magic, security people came up and made sure I did not get anywhere near him. "Wait! I wrote a novel about the Beatles. Can I send it to you? Will you read it?"
"Can you make it into a books on tape?"
"How about kindle?"
"I don't have one."
"Books on tape it is."
And then he really had to go.

So I took my plane home and in it I had a dream I really had a time machine and young Paul and a couple of my friends and I ended up in some early 20th century civilization and had to escape these evil people. Indiana Jones style. Now, yes, this was the young Paul from the Beatles years. However, he held a camcorder. A portable one. Like the one his son brought to Brazil in 1993.

We're struggling for our lives and you have a camcorder? Ok, help me up this rope first. You can film again as soon as you push be back to safety. He didn't look happy, almost as if saying, all you need me for is to keep you safe? What about my film? "Come on! We're running out of time!" Whatever, said the look in his face, if being safe is that important to you, I guess I will help. "Here, hold my camcorder, and I will push you up."

Yup, pretty surreal. Can you imagine someone going like, ok I know we're about to die, but, crap, let me get this on film! LOL! If anyone would do that it would probably be me!

Think of me - anti-homework version - by Vika

So much homework to do. All piled up. And I feel nothing like doing it. I hate homework. Hate it! Hate it! With all my heart, mind and soul!

I remember my middle school years, when I used to sing those anti-school versions of famous songs, the ones that use to be love songs and we turned into songs that talked about how much we did not want to go to school, like Roberto Carlos famous, "Everything can go to hell". Instead of "What good is the sun shining in the beautiful sky?", we sang "What good are books for students to study?" It's kind of like what Weird All does.

I don't know who wrote this Roberto Carlos version. What I do know is that I wrote this one version of "Pense em Mim" (Think of Me), by country duo Leandro & Leonardo. I will write the English translation here. It's reall just a translation, if you try singing it, it won't match. It's just to give you an idea of what we used to sing.

Think of Me - anti-homework version By Vika

"Instead of you staying home doing homework

Instead of you worrying about homework

Come and play, grab your soccer ball, come run with me

No, don't do your homework

Come and play, grab your soccer ball, come run with me

No, don't do your homework

Homework...

Forget about homework

Look outside, it's the best of the sun, the sun, the sun -ooh, ooh

Makes me feel like going out

Let's hop on the first bus

headed to the Barra Lighthouse

At the Barra Lighthouse

Only you and me

Come and play, grab your soccer ball, come run with me

No, don't do your homework

Come and play, grab your soccer ball, come run with me

No, don't do your homework

Homework...

Forget about homework"

Ah, Good old middle school years... Of course I could not forget about homework! I was responsible. But homework was torture. So I wrote this other anti-school version of a famous Leandro e Leonardo song: (again, this is just the word by word translation, if you try singing it in English it will sound really bad)

I'm sorry but I will cry (Desculpe mas eu vou chorar) - anti-school version by Vika again

The lights of my room are on

showing all the books on my desk

And I am sitting here with me

in sheer torment

I hear my friends playing outside

I'm the only who's here working

I'm the family nerd at work

that's my lament

Then I start to wonder

"is studying really worth it?"

The sometimes I even think

"I will run away"

But then I come to my senses

I don't want a bad grade in English

And I still have to do my Portuguese homework

I will cry, I am sorry, but I will cry

I can't study anymore, I can't take that much pressure

I will cry, I am sorry, but I will cry,

But when Christmas time is here, I will not be in Summer School"

The Little Girl From Yesterday

So, I was telling people about my book yesterday at belly dancing practice.

And one of my classmates told me her mom sneaked into the Beatles hotel room when she was a kid. And here was I thinking this kind of stuff only happened in movies... naive me...

Another classmate told me about this one little girl that simply walked up to John Lennon's door and asked for an autograph. Apparently he was impressed by how bold the little girl was and they became friends...

Ay,ay, if I had a time machine...

Anyway... if I do discover Paul McCartney's address, don't you think I will not go asking for an autograph? LOL No!!! I will go ask him to read my book. You bet I will.

Linda & Paul

Last night I had this dream that I got to meet Paul and Linda McCartney. That's a stupid dream because Linda passed away over 10 years ago. I was really upset when that happened. First I was sad for Paul and his family. He really loved her. Second I was upset because I really wanted to meet her (and him of course), some day. I just hope I get to meet him someday.

On a happier note, I really can't wait till I can start my guitar lessons. When the semester is over I will start. I can't start now because all of my nights are taken. Next semester I will save my Mondays for guitar lessons.

I am loving belly dancing lessons.

And I am having a blast with the drama club at school. The kids looooooove it. And I love leading them. It's my little way of keeping in touch with drama. I miss my drama team so much!

I want to go back to Bahia

Winter time is getting closer. The leaves are turning. Soon the sun will not warm up my body anymore. And for a very long time.

I want to go back to Bahia. I just want to go back to Bahia.

Dreams of freedom

One more week starts today. Lêlê! Lêlê! Back to slavery!

The saying goes "When you see a slave sleeping, do not wake him up. He might be dreaming of freedom." But unfortunately, my alarm clock does wake me up every morning at 6am.

Drama Club

Absolute success!!!
Sign-up for clubs were today, and drama club was the among the most popular ones. It's really fun to see all those kids desperately trying to sign up for it. Some kids really want to make it to Nickelodeon or Disney Channel. I hope they do.
I mean, what are the chances that when they become famous they will say it on an interview, "I owe it all to my drama teacher, Mrs. Winters!" Nah, not happening. But I would be happy if one of my kids did achieve such dream.
I don't know if any one of them will be a famous actor or actress someday. But I do hope they have a good time in my club. I hope they enjoy bringing their characters to life. And I hope drama helps them in life, as much as it helped me.

The kids are excited. We're going to have a good year.

My B-day!!!... next June... I CAN'T WAIT! I CAN'T WAIT!

I can hardly wait for my b-day next year!
I will arrive in Salvador exactly on the 29th of June. I want a lot of St.John's food and a karaoke.
And then? Want more? My bffl Lua's bachelorette's party that we will plan nice and good.
Then we will have a friendship throw-back celebration time doing the exact same madness that we used to do when we were kids! We will make shirts with our names on them - the BLV shirts (Beta, Lua and Vika). We will drive the store owners mad by trying out all of their clothes and buying none. We will sit at the food court and make fun of funny looking people. We will be loud and obnoxious! Typical teenagers! But, hey, this is all about a throw-back, isn't it? Isn't it about celebrating the good'ol'times?
Then I will make shirts for my 2 brothers and I with the Jason Vorhees mask on them. A celebration of brother/sisterhood. And we will sit down and watch scary movies!
And then? Want more? There's more!!! There's the 15th b-day of my little bro JP.
What else? Then there's the knot-tying of my bffl Lua.
And, as if that was not enough, I will wander around the wonderful Northeastern beaches with the fam.
Come, come, June! You're a good month!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! TODAY IS YOUR DAY! WHAT A VERY SPECIAL DAY!

Friend

Life is not fun without your friends. Life is not even worth living without your friends. It feels like you're dead. Look back at your most fond memories. Were you alone? Who was there with you? I bet it was a friend. I bet you were not alone.
I miss my friends.

My father is dying of cancer

My father is dying of cancer. And I have no idea what to do. I knew he had had surgery in the beginning of the year. And I saw him last time I went to Brazil. He looked so different than the way he looked at my wedding, 2 years ago.

But I don't call him much. I rarely talk to him. We don't have much in common. We don't even have much for a history together. Good memories are few, very few. Bad memories abound.
This is the guy who wanted to cheat his way out of paying child support by lying in court about his job situation, the guy who was never a part of my life for 12 years and suddenly tried to tell me my skirt was too short (!), the guy who claimed he had no money to help me out because he had a baby with another woman, the guy who said he had no money to come to my wedding - the wedding of his only daughter!
I don't have much to say to this guy. He never got really involved in my life, I never got really involved in his. Thanks to him I never knew what having a father was like. I will never know what having a father is like.
However now this man is dying of cancer. And I have no idea what to do. I know I should have called him more. But I never knew what to say.
About 2 months ago I found out he was going in for a second surgery. I called him on that day. I called him just to say I would be praying for him. What else could I say? I love you? I don't. I don't love him. I don't even know him. But he is my father. And something tells me I must check on him.

Does his poor job as a father excuse me to do a poor job as a daughter? And do I think he does not look back in his life an regret the ways he failed? Or do I think I am the only person on earth who is not destitute of the capacity of repenting or even regretting poor choices?

So I asked my middle brother Leo to keep me posted. And Leo kept me posted: "Everything went well." Then:"He is still in pain." Then:"He is coming back for another exam." ANd just last week: "The doctors said there's nothing else they can do. They will be just treating the pain."

And that's how I found out - My father is dying of cancer. This man I hardly know. This man for whom I have no feelings - good or bad. This man is my father. And he is dying of cancer. And whatever I don't do now, I will never have a second chance to make up for it.

I don't know what to do. And I don't know why I am crying now.

Saudade - I miss my family

Saudade is a bittersweet word. Saudade is a feeling, but it is translated as a verb: missing something.

But saudade is much more than that. Saudade is more than just missing something. It is more than mere nostalgia. Saudade is the emptiness filling a place that once was full. It is the bitterness left in the place of something sweet. It is the burning feeling in which your heart sinks when you no longer have that which if you did would make the feeling go away. Saudade says that something has made me happy, but now it's gone. Saudade says I want back near my eyes that which has never left my heart. Saudade is the one word I can tell my family that will be enough for them to understand I love them.

I miss my family.

Every time I go places we went together,

Every time I do things we did together,

I miss my family.

Sometimes I'm just doing something they taught me,

Sometimes I'm just doing something I know they would like to do too.

I really miss my family.

And whenever I think I never know when I will ever see them again,

I miss them even more.

And whenever I think I never know IF I will ever see them again,

I miss them so much that it hurts.

Every time we say goodbye I always wonder,

"Is this the last time?"

And I just wish I could find the words to let them know

That everything I am today,

I owe to them.

And that they mean the world to me.

I just really miss my family.

not a patriot

I'm not a patriot.

I am proud to be Brazilian and I will get mad at you if you make fun of my country. But I don't really stand up for it. I don't know why, I guess I was just raised that way. "you stay out of those crowds, so you don't get yourself in trouble.". Implied: Crowds are trouble -> Now crowds usually stand for things -> Preserving my life is more important than standing for something.
So it's not like I don't believe in things. I just don't believe in things enough to put my life in the line for it. And here I am married to an American patriot who will not think twice to participate in a rally.
Destiny does play pranks on us.
Here I am at the Restoring Honor rally. A rally dedicated to bring the USA back to its founding values. Working hard, families helping families, that kinds of stuff.
This Glenn Beck is some guy in our generation, in our time, who is calling for a restoration. Every generation needs someone like that. It's happened before.
Why won't that happen in my country? Why don't we have any one standing out for such values? Where has my country gone wrong? The country I love? Let's say from the beginning something has gone wrong. I am not sure where.
Maybe that's why in my country too many people were raised to be like me? "Stay out of those crowds. It's just not worth it." We were raised to preserve our own lives. At the cost of our country's welfare. Because it is not worth fighting a lost cause. Why do we think that way? I don't know. Could have to do with the religion we profess? Could it have to do with the kind of people that first went there? Could it have something to do with the kind of help we never got from those American founding fathers - who never really supported the Brazilian Revolution when we asked for help? Yeah, you tend not to believe the values of a person who says something is good for them, but could care less about you.

Maybe I will never know. I just know I will probably never be the kind of patriot my husband is. For any country.