Bird of Passage

I'm back in Rio for a last fling and I've been spending hours every morning sitting at a café with a few espressos and a pile of newspapers, just catching up. If I told you about the latest spectacular scandal in the Brazilian Senate or the gun battles between rival drug gangs in Copacabana today (it was a war zone down there; I know because one of my best friends had to run and throw herself on the floor and listen to machine gun fire for about twenty minutes) you wouldn't believe me anyway. So, instead, I'm writing about a sentence I read in today's edition of O Globo: nothing changes like the past. Isn't it perfect?

I've been thinking a lot about the years when I was growing up in Brazil and these memories and stories are coming back to me that must have been stored in some do-not-open-until-later-in-life compartment of my brain. I'm not sure at times if what I'm doing is really remembering or if I'm recalling what was later related to me, but there's this image of a little girl walking down the street around the corner of her house, because "she was leaving with the gypsies." I'm sure, though, that I remember sitting inside a large tent with Oriental carpets covering the grass on the field where they camped. My father was a country doctor, you see, and they were his patients (well, when they came by, every six months or so) and I would often go with him when he did his rounds. Clearly, my nomadic, migratory lifestyle has been on my mind lately!

This photograph was taken on the momentous occasion of my first carnaval party. And I'm dressed as a...gypsy, what else?

While in Miami, I got acquainted with my daughter's Blackberry Bold and realized that we humans are finally doing what our thumbs were designed for: texting messages. Have a wonderful week!

PS on Monday evening - Well, the war zone spread today to include my once peaceful neighborhood: heavy gun fire, stray bullet through a roof nearby, police helicopters circling above, schools closed, the works. It was like watching a movie except that it was for real. Next time you smoke a "harmless" joint or snort a harmful line of cocaine please take a moment to think about the millions of innocent people affected by your disgusting habits. What's really appalling, though, is that everywhere else life goes on as if nothing is happening...what is wrong with these people?