every so often i have an insatiable desire to listen to a particular song. the songs themselves change but that desire is there as strong as always. not matter what i listen to whether it be similar songs by the same artist, or songs that i know are my favourite, the only way to sate my hunger is for that one particular song... until of course i forget what it was in the first place, or until i really want to hear another song. Just before i started to write this i felt a need to hear Bebel Gilberto, August day song, and so i put on Pandora and lo and behold there it was. It is a lovely relaxing, lazy sunday morning, sitting on a balcony, nursing a hangover song. it gives that feeling of just being chilled out in the sun, at ease with no pressing engagements, no usual chaos. just that loose muscle feel, where you know that a gaze, or a raise of the eyebrow is enough as far as conversation is concerned and you can enjoy the music and the warmth. i like those moments, those awesome moments of tranquillity when everything is just fine. and fine is ok. in fact fine is great. i like fine.
no, my stay in DC has not turn me into a hippy, i am just looking forward to Brazil as i think that during my time there i will be able to have a lot of "fine" moments. right now though it does not feel like it. i have felt pretty useless over the last week or so as my wife has been dealing with all the logistics of our impending move into the centre of Brazil. We have bought a wide assortment of accessories - humidifiers, dehumidifiers, fans, soup, brownie mix, pasta shells, nutella, dish rack, dvd rack and the list goes on. The first two items were bought after we discovered that for a major part of the year Brasilia is really rather humid, and though the rains are generally in short sharp bursts, the after effects can be rather long lasting. on the other side though, we also learnt that at it peak, the air in Brasilia is drier than that of the Sahara, which also signified a trip to the pharmacy and the purchasing of a quantity of lotion that even Ron Jeremy would be gawp at. i am starting to understand the sort of logistic nightmare that my parents go through every time they return to Sierra Leone. At least Brazil is developed, and what we forget to buy here, can probably be purchased over there, or via internet. The post to Freetown is more error prone than the Bush government.
8 weeks of Portuguese training has gone by really rather quickly. I have to admit that i have picked up the language like a pro, and expected nothing less of myself. i had a test last wednesday and managed to be at the same level as the spanish speakers i started with. my skipping of the basics in the whole language learning process means however, that though i am able to converse with politicians about the long term effects of global warming, i am less able to ask where the nearest stations is, or is this seat taken. hopefully my eager study of the language will be a precursor to some kind of career whilst I am there. As excited as I am, this is one aspect of the move that does worry me, and with Brasilia not being a capital of industry like Sao Paulo is, I do worry about the lack of opportunity out there in terms of work. I really do have no idea what to expect.
my mother was kind enough to let me have her camera when i came over to the states. after staring at it for 8 weeks, i finally decided that getting some batteries might be a good idea. so i did. the camera is not digital. it is one of those old fashioned antiquated items which still use film, and worst of all, you actually have to pay before you see the final results. the camera itself is pretty smack-daddy, if only because all i have ever used in my life is a point-and-shoot thing. but i am looking forward to taking it to Brazil and having a go at being slightly pretentious and artistic. the amount of architectural wonders there should really help me to at least be able to take some decent pictures by the time i leave. we shall see. maybe one day i shall get my own outdoor exhibit outside the metro near La Sorbonne.
