Resonate 3.0

What a wicked night! I just crawled in this morning at the crack of dawn after attending Resonate 3.0, a local Burning Man party, with my friends. Such interesting people and the costumes are pretty hot.

Here's Alli and I at the beginning of the night before leaving the apartment. We love faux fur!

Cool People

I love meeting new people. Especially when we instantly hit it off and have loads of things in common. I get this feeling usually whilst traveling and meeting up with several random travelers. We will dance a night away and have passionate conversations then I'll never seen them again. And I'm ok with that. But occasionally I'll meet these type of awesome people in my own backyard, so to speak.

Case in point, I am now friends with my dentist. The person who drills my teeth is now my buddy. It seems kind of odd. But we both travel heaps, love electronic music, and are in our 20s. We are going to be dancing together when the next excellent dj is in town.

I also wandered into a travel shop last month before my trip to Brazil and encountered a crazy and lovely individual who happened to live in Sydney and London the same time I did. It's a small world. We probably were at the same places and never knew it.

I love it when this type of stuff happens. It makes me feel like there's some kind of bond connecting all of us around the world. So, despite my recent grumblings on being back to the city, I do really love it here. And I'm happy. Well, except in January and February when the winter is at its worst. But I get to meet wicked people and dance a lot. So, it's good stuff.

Bitch

I have been in quite the sweary mood lately. I haven't sworn so fucking much since...since...well, probably not that long ago. But last night I was on the subway coming back from work and this rather large man with dreds thumped down in the seat next to me. He promptly flipped open his top of the line moto and shouted into it, "I fucking hate this city, man!" I kid you not, the whole carriage stuffed tight with people glimpsed over.

"I'm done with Chicago, man! This city is SHIT. It's full of crap. I can't BELIEVE I've stayed two months here. I'm going to the EU, fuck this place! With it's fucking PEOPLE." I think it was at this point that I looked up and the girl in front of me was rolling her eyes. But being experts in ignoring crazies that we great people of Chicago are, not one person said anything but continued to read their papers and listen to their iPods.

I wanted to say that I used to think that once, too. I wanted to tell him that if he stayed just a bit longer he might change his mind. But he seemed in a right fouler and I decided that even if I tried to help him he would just tell me to go fuck myself. But hey, at least I wasn't the one bitching to an entire subway car.

Cold weather is a 4-letter word

I hate this ass-biting chill that's grabbed Chicago. And I'm in super-crank mode due to it. Yeah, yeah, Chicago is always freezing you say. Well, it's bloody not. It's effing fantastic and hot for about 2 months of the year and I think we're owed some warm weather thankyouverymuch. Now. I'm usually not one to brag. No, seriously, shut up and listen to me. I'm Not One to Brag but since moving to a snobby-ish place in the city I'm in a prime summer spot. Snobby-ish in a fur-coat-poodle-face-lift type of way that isn't me at all but I love the location (i.e. walking distance to work) so I'm not going to complain about the lack of Bohemian atmosphere and the overwhelming mix of old-money-new-yuppified-to-fuck-pups (and to be honest I don't really care that there's a lack of Bohemians because let's be real a lot of them are glorified hippies, no?).

Anywho. Back on track, summer (aka beautiful heat). My location is half a block from the beach and we have an outdoor pool in our building. I know. But don't hate me, yeah? Because I haven't been able to use anything yet, including the beach! Crapping cold. It's the end of March for chrissake and we'll be lucky to see warmth by the end of May. Chicago should be located about 4000 miles south. Um. Yes. Around Rio. It is never cold in Rio. Chicago could learn a lot from Rio. The weather here needs to be transported to somewhere already cold. Like Canada?

Never-ending winter bites the big one. I'm going back to Rio.

Loving Brazil

So I wasn't kidnapped or mugged or assaulted in any way whilst in South America which I'm oddly a little disappointed by. I made it there and back in one piece with absolutely everything I packed plus all my bulging souvenirs (how they could be stuffed in my tiny suitcase without breaking, the bag that is, is beyond me).

So here's the low down and dirty on Brazil: It is fucking brilliant. Not low down or dirty at all but awe-gasping, heart-clenchingly beautiful. I want to sell all my worldly possessions and move to Brazil for the rest of my life. I'd pack it all in except I don't speak Portuguese very well (although I think I have a fair chance if I actually studied it) and my loved ones live in the Northern half of the Americas which is quite unfortunate for me and my chances of becoming Brazilian.

But nevermind! Here are my favorite things about my trip: I like how on my birthday everyone told me "Congratulations!" instead of "Happy Birthday!" I like all the fresh juices in the morning. Pineapple, mango, watermelon, papaya, guava, orange, and caju (cashew juice, which actually tasted quite nasty). I love cachaca (ka-sha-sa) which is a clear liquor they use to make caipirinhas. Nothing like drinking a cold and blessedly strong caipirinha on the beach. And anywhere with mountains and ocean combined like Rio is ok with me. More than ok. Almost perfection.

I saw the film "City of God" whilst in Rio after we took our favela (ghetto) tour. I saw some crazy shit in the favela which made me realize how lucky I am even though I bitch about being an American and therefore can't spend more than 3 months anywhere in the world. Seriously, things could be so much worse.

At the beginning of our tour at the top of Rocinha (which we got to on the back of motorbikes driven by people who live in the favela) we saw the lowest of the drug ring. Guys were standing watch outside buildings palming fire-crackers. Apparently, there was supposed to be a police raid that day and people were edgy. The tour guide (who runs a school for the children in Rocinha) told us we wouldn't be able to go to that part of the favela that day and to hide our cameras. "NO photos! NO photos! Come this way!" He was a big, sweaty guy who you could tell loved his job. He got high off of the atmosphere of the favela.

After we were almost through Rocinha (which is the largest favela in Rio de Janeiro with 200,000 people in only 1 sq km) I was at the head of the queue picking our way through the narrow and sewage strewn path. Stray cats and dogs were wandering by and children were hanging out in doorways and windows everywhere asking "Money? Money? Photo? Photo?" with their tiny grubby hands thrust out in a pleading gesture. The only person in front of me was the meaty tour guide. We came up upon two teenagers fooling around with their backs to us. They didn't see us and I saw one of them pull a gun out and put it to his friend's head. His friend pushed the gun away in an annoyed gesture and the guy turned back and saw us. He made an "Oh, shit!" type of face before yanking up his dirty t-shirt and shoving the weapon into his pants. The tour guide turned back to me and yelled a few yards past the teens, "Told you we might see some crazy shit here! Hahahaha! Haha!" I was the only person besides him to see what happened and I was a little bit in shock wondering, "Where the hell am I and what did I just see? Is this real?"

The only other time I was a bit nervous in South America was when the bf and I wandered over to Cuidad del Este, Paraguay. It had a very different vibe from Brazil and I didn't like it. The woman who drove us over there told us it was something we wouldn't like but had to be experienced. She said it was dirty and ugly. I didn't think it was that ugly but I did wonder for a few moments if I might get cancer in the first half hour of wandering around. There was enough exhaust to clog the Grand Canyon.

Ilha Grande is an paradise island we went to in between Rio and Foz do Iguacu. According to Lonely Planet it was first a pirate's lair, then a leper colony, then it housed the most dangerous criminals in Brazil until they imploded the prison in 1994. We hiked about 15 km to get to the other side of the island to the ruins and the most beautiful secluded beach I've ever seen. After playing on the beach for a few hours we wandered around the creepy ruins. A strange howling sound was coming from the jungle and as the sun was setting and we had 15 km to hike back across the island I was a little jumpy to get going. Some scary growling was then heard along the path leading up the island and I got the heebie jeebies when I read later on that jaguars inhabit Ilha Grande.

In short, I loved my trip down South. I know I didn't mention the waterfalls but the photos speak for themselves. I learned that I'm capable of picking up beetles, jumping off the side of boats into lagoons, and blending into the laid back culture of Brazil. I think I'm in love.