In a community , for outsiders called Favela, life is describede or worried as arsh and difficult. They will rob you they say, nahw
It is the reverse, proprotionally calm, usual and having its atmosphere and daily events.
Cantagalo, it name, I have lived here enough to recognise the sounds, the smells and the people. The people start seeing me everyday, as a calm european guy, one of the few white guys around here, invited to football in the covered 5v5 pitch.
Bought fruits on the street. Dawn. Tried for the first time Caju, tropical fruit, climbed the tall shape of the favela twice a day.
Got stopped by power-abusing policemen, M16 in their arms, more criminals than you are, scarier than any other being here.. Been bored and tired, stressed by the TV with its "propaganda gratuita, horario politico" half an hour on TV when all the channels trasmitt the most rubbish of all, politicians fooling people, because organising in groups seems hopeless for human beings, unless everyone finds himself and a sort of balance.
The sweetness of the live music on SUnday, rocking till late, letting you get asleep in a delicate and impulsing way.... Annoyed by the roosters screaming their needs to nature, protect the hens and calling for something ( i do not understand their language), but at last I do, 2 hours I couldn´t sleep because of them, I had to study their sound, their calls and their comunications... At last I sleep, dream of marvelllous events end worrying ones too , of my mind accompanied by the singing of the roosters (galos, galli) of Cantagalo, make me ronf and made me awake as well.. sweet sound of new, new sound of life.. looking for my creativity, gotta find the hate in me, hidden by the nice guy I am not able to hate my lover, cause love is not the only one, to fully love, to fully live , yu gotta know al there is in you, have to find this self consciousness through activities that were not recommended by the good me, too strong to be beaten, to be countered.. but I will , alone, find the courage to strive for an inch of yang in this ocean of yin.
Al this because of you, when i´ll see you again I will tell you how grateful I am for destroying my usual self, secure of my good acts, and that I could live without people not sharing the full of my capacities, of my happy and fill thoughts. You showed me the world, another atmosphere, what I knew inside met the things you gave me outside. Seen that light of knowledge and aknowledgement in much people after you, but never like you, just a little slice of that good and bad cake of life.
I need to destroy now my image of you, my past.... I´ve seen you in a stranger, waliking down the hill, passing through the music , bad smells and inviting fruits of the favela, I saw you in her mood, in her way of moving the buttocks, balancing with the slight life-composing of her hands , striving for something to grab, hope for a better brighter hand, that I thought it would be me... But, seing my soul as a zero in that vision, destroyed and speechless, a bit ironic beating myself again, I passed that woman, so rawly delicate in her ethnic dress and the hair touching gently her shoulders. I passed her thinking I would surpass you, not needing to see her/your face againf, maybe scared to fall into the same hole I am trying to climb up. DOnt turn back! I told my self, and I didnt , worong or correct doesn´t matter, let it go .. live the present , that´s my dream now.. yes now I feel maybe not brazilian as I wish, but less wanderer than other times... yes, I live in a Favela and I love it, because I see here the poor inside me, all my life , once the past , next the present without the infinite black of your eyes, let´s find alone that infinite in everything not easily understandable by the good me.
Masacarne
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