So things have gotten random just the way they should: my volunteer ship was canceled 10 days before I was supposed to arrive. The organization had to… Read more “Breakfast ramblings and Sweet Crazitivity”
When a mum’s heart opens for you it rarely closes again… ever… I found the one of my Baian mum as warm and tender as I left… Read more “Casa…”
Salvador ! Salvador is extremely sticky, I am extremely sticky in Salvador. people smell nice, cars are new, busses old, queues are long, nature is SO awesome… Read more “PULA DE ALEGRIA VOCÊ ESTÁ NA BAHIA”
I thought a lot about how I would describe what it felt like coming back to Brasil after 5½ years of intense longing for this place which somehow had become my reference point for everything: food, culture, people, music, nature… Everytime I landed somewhere new during these years I’d compare it to Brasil, sizing it up and always feeling a melancholic sting of something missing…
When I was around 15-16 years old I got a new mum. At that time I felt like the world was a pretty unfriendly place, but my new mum had such a warm and nourishing energy that many times I’d barely step in the dore before I’d start to cry, feeling safe, welcomed and a little defenseless.
So a few days after I arrived to Brasil I’m sitting on a mountain, where a river flows down over the rocks, forming small currents and pools. My bikini clad bum planted in one of the small streams and facing the sun and the rounded mountains below, covered in lush green forrest, the impossible amounts of yellow butterflies catching the sun on their wings.
I put my palms on the rock under me, go into my heart, and from there I let my love travel down towards my mother…. ”hi there…” I tell her. Not much more to begin with. And then I feel her streaming up towards me, her answer a pressence more than a message, so much love. I feel my heart cramping up and pushing out dried up tears from very deep inside.
Painful. I wash my face, don’t want to talk about it. Then I open the gate and let all the love I have inside pour into her. The sun from above and the mountain and water below communicate through me in two simultaneous flows, upwards and downwards. More tears, from long years of longing to belong. I’m home now. So much it doesn’t even matter that I’m not going to stay…
December 24th Christmas eve is for church and late night dinner. I’ve got the flue and the mass is three hours long, at least, so after finnishing… Read more “Baby Jesus, a Present and Bobo-Dioulasso”