Since I’ve gotten to Brazil, I fell a little into shock from many stories of casual violence from people who were worried about me being alone. Seeing so many people on the street, hungry and doing any little thing they could to make it by made it even harder to be weary of them, as I was told to be, especially when they were children. I had a hard time writing about it. I was here to relate to every one of these people, in their environment, so I wanted to discover some peace around their lives and move forward. I found that there were many things I could do without on the street, and many ways to deal with the things I had to take that called less attention. I also learned to be able to easily part with those things I decided to bring with me, especially when it came to food (many times I would bring a piece of fruit with me because I knew someone would love to have it!). I carried with me my notebook and my phone in an inexpensive bag, and my money on the inside of my clothes.
Nothing helped me to embrace my new environment more than to get to know the people of Rio. Everything is so lively. All the young people are excited and passionate, for revolution, for hope, and many times just for beer. And despite the many people who are suffering from the difficulty of the economy of the nation, there were many them who showed me their riches in humbling character, willing to lend their values to me. And being religious or not, at night I could see the Christ lit up almost anywhere in the city, and I felt safer. Every morning I wake up to a new symphony to move my thoughts. At times it is a rooster, someone selling things out of their truck, drums, kids in school, practicing actors working hard on their desperate “No!”, or easily just the cars of the busy street of Rua Alice where I reside. Today it was a soft clarinet. And so this is what I had to write.