Amurika: the first few weeks

I ended up spending about 4 days in Cali, visiting people: friends and family. It felt strange, awkward, and familiar to see the people that I hadn't seen in months. And for me to be the one with a beautiful glow, looking well-rested, while everyone else looked like the walking undead made me a little uncomfortable. I wore bright colors and even sundresses, while others wore sweatpants and boots. Note to self: Finals' week is never a good week to pop up on campus after being away for awhile. Although I had to come back, it was still a strange moment to do so. The climate did a great job of helping me acclimate (haha) because it was 81 degrees when I first arrived and then began to drop gradually throughout my stay. Even though I hated feeling cold, I realized that I missed being able to layer my clothes. I knew I had many people to see with little time, and I really tried my best to fit everyone in, but shit, I was jet-lagged and immensely exhausted from my trip. And I desperately needed to spend time with my loved one and recuperate. I realize now that I never really got to rest in California which explains why I was brain-dead upon arrival in Oregon. 

I made a pact to myself: Never allow college to stress me out to the point of anxiety attacks, panic attacks, and depression. I could only observe from the outside and realize that it really shouldn't be that serious. Thinking about now gives me an instant headache. The stress was so thick in the air that, for the first time in months, I felt nauseous. I wanted to cry for all of my friends who were suffering over things as simple as tests and papers. I can't let that happen to me anymore. I can't let that be a reality for me. I received the welcome home gifts of art and film! A new FlipCam and a Canon EOS Rebel R2 (35mm) and I was sooooooooo excited! Also, a copy of Staceyann Chin's "The Other side of Paradise", which I totally recommend, and a Watercolor painting set. I saw as many people as I needed, got caught up on all of the necessary information about campus relationships and other business, straightened out (for the most part) my housing situation, and met up with friends to have a little reckless fun. 

All in all, California was a great primer to Oregon. But the shock of being black, being natural, and re-adjusting, was still strong, even though it was to be expected. My goodness, so many people stared at me when I got off the plane. I caught up with an old Arabic classmate towards the last leg of my trip, but was mostly uncomfortable being the only again. It is enough to unsettle your soul. Here I was, this young black woman, fresh from Salvador and all of its color, in Oregon. And I stood out. Again, bright colors, a curly Afro and a cheerful disposition. This was going to be harder than I thought. For I had a small break in thinking about my own place and space in regards to race and racial identity, as my struggles in Brazil centered around nationality and class, not skin color. And here I was to be thinking about all of my identity. Everything. Oh, my soul was unsettled.

I was told that I needed to take the train home, so no one was to pick me up from the airport. This was a good thing, it turns out, because I was able to fully immerse myself back into Portland life, and really observe others observing me. I took pictures of them watching me. And at the young white children who pointed at me and my hair. They were curious, I suppose. It's not like black people don't exist in Portland, but there are few of us who wear our hair as it naturally grows. 

It was so good to see my mom again, but she looked tired. Her eyes were swollen from heavy crying and I can tell that she felt some sort of relief hearing that I was choosing not to go to Jordan next semester. She said that with her health, she didn't think she could handle having me so far away. I don't want to be completely selfish and say, "I'm going to do what I want and live my life!" without thinking about the effects my decisions would have on my family, so I decided that I was glad that I chose not to go as well. My little brother is so much taller! And he's still annoying as hell! But I was so glad to see him! And my grandmother was so happy that she damned near jumped out of her wheelchair! I was happy to see her too! And I'm still catching up with friends and trying to make new ones, I suppose. It was so funny because even my black friends here in Oregon were astounded by my hair. "Does it grow like that?" "Is it a wig?" "Can you comb through it?" I'm like, "Come on y'all. This is what my hair looks like. And yes, it's all mine!?!?!" 

Being in Portland and especially being in the mall made me annoyed at people. Not my friends, of course, but at the small town feeling of the place. The stares. The girls flipping their hair and being loud. I left feeling nauseous. It was too much. My mom felt sick too, but that's only because she hates the mall. But she looked at me and saw that I was confused and annoyed. Like, nobody had changed. Nothing had changed. And that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

I now feel stifled and guarded in what I say and how I say things. I was a little too blunt during my first couple of days here in the U.S. I didn't come with a censor or a care in the world. Now I'm realizing that I can't say everything that comes to mind. The hardest part is realizing that I can't be honest about how I feel or about what I feel, especially in regards to myself, my current emotional state, and my mental state. I feel like I have to give nice answers. To lie. Whereas back in Salvador, I was still learning the language, so the simplicities were simple truths, because it was all I knew how to say. I didn't really know how to lie in another language, so things were blunt, short, and to the point. Now I'm here, conscious more than ever of my readers, subscribed and anonymous, and I still don't feel the freedom to say what I want to say, even though I do....does that make sense? 

I've had constant headaches this past week. Can't seem to leave bed. Been on tumblr, facebook and netflix. I've done some good reading but not as much as I'd like. I'm trying to figure out how to get all of my thoughts down so that I can read them later and make sense of them all. I'm scattered a bit. I'm definitely still exhausted. And I'm wondering who I can talk to, since I'm the only person in my friend group who has studied abroad. No one can relate. And no one really cares. I tried to make myself feel better by shopping, but I only stopped to realize that I should save my money, especially since I'm going to be living off campus next semester. 

Anyway, the first few weeks of America were strange and they continue to be for me. I need to articulate my goals and make a budget. I need to make some adjustments, but I also need to remember how I felt when I first arrived, the observations I made, and the promises I need to keep. Just because I'm transitioning back into the culture, doesn't mean I need to change anything that I've worked on to "fit in". 

Standing out is good, I suppose.

Amurika: the first few weeks

So here I am, back in the safe comfort of my bedroom. Retreating from the world after being thrust back into American life which occurred, oddly enough, the minute I landed in Recife. My friend Kendall and I ended up on all of the same flights back to America, which made the trip slightly more comforting. However, the first dose of Americans outside my program group, was a hilarious one. 

In fact, there was this dude who had an American flag polyester shirt, complete with a HUGE ass eagle printed across the left half, khaki cutoff shorts, white crew socks, and beige-tan crocs. He even had a thick blonde 70's era pornstache and looked clueless about life. I'm thinking to myself, "What the hell are you doing in Brazil?" His wife looked like she wanted to ask him the same question. This dude also decided to ride back to Miami with a plastic bag on his head, containing the pillow and airplane blanket that the rest of us were given. At this point, I was definitely shaking my head. The others were a part of some sort Jiu-Jitsu group, but they were so loud that Kendall and I could barely hear ourselves talk. And I love how they just ordered everything in English and got flustered when the airport attendants at the restaurant didn't really understand the things that they were saying. Okay then...*thinks about the time that this guy ordered açaí in English in Lençois, after first asking ME (while I was sitting down and eating) if I worked there, as in, didn't even try to speak Portuguese at all whatsoever* So Kendall and I chatted in Portinglish and then got back on the plane when it was time to load up. We arrived in Miami to hectic people and customs. I felt proud when I was asked "Business or Pleasure" and I said "Neither, try education?" And the customs dude laughed and said, "Good answer." Yeah homie, education is NOT business nor is it a pleasure, yo'. So then I walked thru, waited for Kendall, and then we went through some more checkpoints. I didn't need to declare my Guarana or other food products but at that moment I regretted not buying more cachaça. I realized though that I would have to be separated from K because I had an overnight stay in Miami. She and I hugged and I got all teary eyed, but then we realized that we'd both be in California (at least 45 minutes away) so we said our goodbyes and vowed to hang out upon our return. 

I walked outside to the warmth of Miami, wrapped in the Brazilian flag I had made into a blanket, and waited for a shuttle. I was staying at the Hilton Garden Inn, but I didn't know that this specific Hilton had a different shuttle. So I ended up at the Hilton and had to take a taxi over to the other, smaller Hilton. I got there and was flustered and feeling a bit tired, but the people at the desk were HILARIOUS. Esteban, Rosa and I forget the other woman's name, but they had me cracking up! We just laughed and talked about my studies and where I was coming from and how they loved my hair and then I ordered SO MUCH FOOD (mozzarella moons, peach cobbler, buffalo wings), ate a lot, called a few people, and then slept in the most comfortable bed I have ever slept in. I pondered doing laundry but I realized that I didn't have enough time. I had to wake up at 4am to continue my journey "home". I did wake up on time, only to leave my Mac adapter in the room (which left me pissed off) but I made it to the airport on time. Thank goodness I still had my international ticket "excuse" because I didn't have to pay for the extra weight my luggage weighed (although that still caught up with me later on my second leg of the trip). I sat next to a nice lady from Chile who offered me bits of conversation in Spanish, to accustom my ears, she said. I would soon arrive in Dallas, Texas. Texas frustrates me. It just does. So I tried to stay put for as long as possible, entertaining myself on Netflix (I was so happy to finally get it) and watching my bags. I walked around a little bit, searching for something to eat and I may have had some snacks, but I really just needed to get home. Finally, I was able to board the plane to Los Angeles. I was feeling a little sick, but I was still happy to be finishing this trip, for the most part.

I got on the plane and went directly to sleep. I sat next to a soldier and felt so awkward with my "Brazilian flag blanket" but then decided that I didn't really care. I'm a pacifist. I don't support war. So I curled up and went to sleep. Then I woke up and decided to chat this dude up. Turns out that he's just a guy from East L.A. who needed a way out of the 'hood, so we talked and laughed and joked about our anxieties and fears of re-adjusting to the states. It was first time being back in the U.S. since May. We ended up having lots in common and joked all the way until we landed in L.A. And suddenly, I had this LUMP in my throat. 

I was here.

And so was she.

my hair. my smile. i'm home.

I am finally at home. In my bed. Singing to Jill Scott in the worst voice EVER known to man, but dammit, this is my SONG. I'm so excited to be here. My grandmother was so happy to see me that she cried. She had no idea that I was back. She almost jumped out of her wheelchair to hug me. I have never seen anyone that happy to see me. Scratch that, my friend Erikan cried when she saw me in the school dining hall. Did I really have an effect on all of these people? Everyone at my institution that said they missed me really missed me. It really helped me to look at myself and think, "Wow. Maybe I really am a great person. Maybe I really do have a 'presence'. Maybe I did make an impact on the lives of the people around me." It made me excited for my future. It made me excited for my present. I am so happy to be home. I am so happy to be here. The fear has dissipated. The anxiety has floated away. I'm so relaxed. And I have so much to do.

i'm ready.

the time is here...

As my feet and hips are aching from doing the samba, my afro is suffering after being beaten down by a torrential rainstorm and tons of curious hands, and my mouth is suffering from dehydration, I'm sitting here remembering my time in Brazil and am fighting back tears. This has really been the most life changing experience that I have ever had. And you know what sucks? When you start to meet people you could see yourself really being friends with, at the end of your trip. It makes life seem so unfair. Salvador's skies opened up a hurricane-like rain storm, trapping us in Rio Vermelho under white tents for what seemed almost like hours. But in a typical Brazilian fashion, we cracked open a few cans of Skol and others began to play farol music for us to dance to under these tents. And we stayed that way for what seemed like forever until enough of us got really tired and decided to run all the way to the nearest club, in the downpour, so that we can really have our despedida properly.

We arrived at Bar Ali do Lado, soaked in water, smelling of storm and street, looking for the bar and listening out for music. And we got everything we asked for. I went directly to the bar and ordered the classic caipirinha and went to the bathroom to check myself. Brazil has not been good for my self-esteem as I've never not once felt attractive here in this country. But alas, I still looked a little good, at least good enough to dance and that's what I did. I headed to the dance floor. After finishing my drink and few minutes of samba, I was sweating more than a pig in heat. It was ROASTING in there. I spoke my Portuguese, slightly slurred, made friends with more Brazilians, and proved to my fellow Americans that I can groove to some samba music, too. We chilled like that for hours. And then it hit me, I'm leaving. And something inside me wished for the song that really started this whole passion that I have for Brazil to come on. And they played it...

Ninguem ouviu

Um soluçar de dor

num canto do brasil....

I fought back tears as my hips gyrated to the music, my hands reached upwards to grab my fro and I looked up at the singer smiling and winking at her to continue with my song. The male voices began to dominate. My mouth couldn't stop singing these lyrics passionately. People watched me as I almost floated along with the rhythms. This was MY song. This was my entry ticket to Brazil. And I had to sing it out of respect to my time here. Everything happened in a full circle. In June, we arrived to torrential rainstorms. In December, we departed with torrential rainstorms. It felt powerful. It felt like it all had a meaning. It was my time to go. It is my time to go. 

I was mostly bummed that my sister and bro Vivi and Leo couldn't see me tonight. I probably would have cried anyway. They mean so much to me. I really hoped to say goodbye.

I'm sad, now. I'm going to miss this place, these people, these sounds, these smells....I'm going to miss Salvador. I'm going to miss Bahia. I'm going to miss Brazil. I came here unconsciously needing to belong somewhere and I am leaving here with so many people saying "You are already Bahian. You are Brazilian. You are one of us." I don't even know if thank you is appropriate in those situations, but I said it anyway. Because I somehow felt more comfortable in myself. I felt like I could one day call Brazil, home.

It's been amazing. Absolutely amazing. It wasn't always good, it wasn't always bad, but it was always valuable. And I will never regret coming and I will always remember my time here. 

Goodbye Brasil, até......

picoleshionnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!

some pictures..(in a random order)

on the beach with brasil

playing hide and go seek with the guide

cachoeira hikes with little ricardo

a breathtaking view, no?

at chapada diamantina

chilling with cosme and maya

beach party with angelo, erin and brasil

charrrrrrge! with vivi

learning how to swim with leo

is it really here?

oi gente!

it's my last week here in salvador. i can't believe it! the time has gone by way too fast. I've been partying like it was 1999 this weekend, only having breaks on sundays to rest. I've been feeling less inhibited in my social activities, not being afraid to go out and hang with people I don't know even though i'm self conscious about my language abilities. I've had a lot of fun this week meeting more new people than ever, enjoying city nightlife and rocking my brand-new, itsy bitsy bikini (and to my host family, my bikini is STILL large, haha). I hope I don't get in trouble wearing it at school (read: because I'm going to do it anyway). My suitcase is beginning to have things put in it, I took the things off my wall and safely put them away. All that's left are toiletries, jewelry and books. I don't want to rush packing like I usually do, so I decided to start a little early this time. It's all making me sad, you know? Because I'm really really really scared to go back home now. I've grown so much, I've changed so much and who's to say that people will like the new me? And who's to say that I'm going to care if they do? There have been so many life lessons presented to me during my stay, about how I think, how I feel, how I react to things/people/events, how I can/cannot control myself. There have been so many people that I have learned from, both positively and negatively. But all my experiences have been worth the stay. I've learned never to regret anything because it undermines your ability to make decisions for yourself. If you consciously made a decision, why should you regret it later? This is how I feel about things lately.

It's been a great six months: positives AND negatives included. I would do it again and again. 

But most of all, I'm really going to miss my family.

pai e tio manuel

(not picture: graça, shio, e jussara)

They're the best family that anyone can ever ask for. I know for a fact that Raniery, my dad, will be at my wedding (if I ever get married). Vou ter saudades deles....

roller sets?

Simply swt,

This is a response to you.

It's usually Carol's Daughter Hair Butter. I get it for cheap at Marshall's.

Girl, I just twist the hair with some product, wrap the twist around a roller, spray some mousse on it or hairspray, or sometimes I use setting lotion like "Lottabody" and then I go to sleep.

When I wake up in the morning and take it out, girl it's ONNNNNNNN.

Love,

Luna

thoughts and feelings and words and sounds

I'm hearing so much right now as i'm sitting here, trying to sum up November and even bits of October, realizing that I only have one week and a half left in Salvador. It's been an interesting ride, this trip to Brazil. I've learned so much about myself and other people and this country. I can't even talk about how much I'm going to miss my family, especially my host dad. He means the world to me and I really do love him like a father figure. Where have I been since Itaparica? Well, I went to Lençois with a few other people from my program and that was a challenging trip. Physically, because we were hiking just about everywhere. Emotionally, because I often wanted to be left alone, to observe and absorb the natural beauty of the place. I found my moods were all over the place but when I got silence and could listen to nature, I was a much calmer person.

I'm in such a state of confusion right now. I know that when I return to campus that I'm going to be visible again. And that part of me is clamoring to jump up out of my body and run away. That me doesn't want to exist anymore. There's a me surfacing already, the me that is used to being noticed, being on call, being the face to know on campus. But I can't do that anymore. It's just not me. I feel like I've been drinking so much this weekend to resist it all. I was told by my friend Nick the other day that he wanted to see "that girl, that outgoing beautiful personality" because he was confused by this "calm, super chill" me. And then he called me a walking contradiction. Actually, I called myself a walking contradiction. "Outgoing and shy, loud and quiet, expressive and pensive." A part of me just wants to sit in silence, to simply walk through life appreciating what I have and existing. And a part of me knows that I have the capability, natural I feel, to speak up for others. To be the voice and the face of those who don't want to do the dirty work of being out in front. It's not as easy as we'd like to think. Putting yourself on the line for the sake of others. Constantly walking the line of tokenization and visibility. It's not easy speaking your mind and wanting to sit in peace at the same time.

I'm a mess right now. Three days of partying. Three days of drinking and hangovers. Rum, amaretto, beer, whatever, you name it. Three days of thinking deeply. I can't be as eloquent as I'd like right now. I feel like I've lost a million brain cells after all that partying I did. I can't be as philosophical or well-versed in the things I've liked today. I'm jittery and tired. I'm happy and frustrated. I'm coming home next Saturday.

I'm scared as hell. Like what the fuck? I have to leave this safe enclave that I've created for myself in Brazil to return to this previous life that I both miss and fear at the same time. How will I recall the thoughts that I've had, sitting in my room, reflecting on myself? My soul is trying to re-arrange itself.

I mean, I bought this amazingly simple, yet beautiful, brazilian bikini and I'm going to wear that shit. And I'm going to rock it. But the fact is, that it's going to force me to look at my body and to feel sexy. It's going to force me to look at what I want to work on, what I want to improve. But I'm going to have to admit that my ass is big and it's not going to change, no matter the diet or the workout. That there are women who wished they had it. So now, I'm thinking about my body image. Which then leads me to think about my internal image. And how I feel about things. And what I think about things.

Ahhhhh, so MUCH inner turmoil happening. Fuuuuck, I'm only 20. If I keep going at this rate, I'm not going to have any mid-life crises to go through. And add the fact that my life partner is going through some health issues right now and I'm stressed and worried about her emotional and mental state.

I can't be stressed about being stressed. That shit just doesn't make sense. And that's what I don't miss about America. I don't want to feel bad about not being stressed when I get there because everybody else is. I don't want to feel pressed to live for time and to capitalize all of my time because we're taught the notion from an early age that "Time is Money. Waste Time, Lose Money" and that every moment of our lives has to be filled with some action or we're not fully living. It's bullshit. I don't want hide the new me that I've been bringing out more here. I don't want to force myself back into a shell that other people created for me. Fuck that. "i just gotta be me. free."

Look,

I'm trying to find me and figure out what that means. How can I have this blog where I talk about personal things in a cyberspace, but be afraid to show my closest family members, the people that I care about the most? And what do I do with all this theoretical change? How do I put it into action? how do I act on the things that I've been thinking so hard about over these past months. I do not wish to fall into complacency. I do not know how to translate my experiences over a cultural line.

I'm afraid. I'm excited to be coming home, but afraid than ever.
SHIT.

Shit.

Shiiiiit. What am I to do?