Well, I haven't updated in a while, and for this I apologize. Since helping to run a little veggie garden for the street kids in Sucre through a great organization called Nyanta, since journeying to the muggy and indepented-minded city of Santa Cruz, since struggling to get the paperwork to get into Brazil legally, and since taking a 26 hour long train ride through the mosquito-infested jungle...I have finally left Bolivia.
Gone are the luxurious hostels for 3US dollars a night, gone are the four star meals for 2. Gone is the comfort that has become the Spanish language. I am in Brazil.
I crossed the border two days ago and entered the town of Corumba. I stayed there one night, waiting for migration to open, for a bus north, and for my body to recover from the train ride of death (yes, everyone really calls it that). Then I took an airconditioned coach bus in style through the lush Pantanal to the city of Campo Grande. The view of the wetlands of every shade of green imaginable dotted with long-necked birds and framed by billowing grey clouds, was stunning.
Since arriving in Brazil, I have been humbled constantly; when one does not speak the language, one recieves a variety of responses. I am greatful for the people who have been so kind. English speaking Brazilians, Spanish speaking Brazilians, Brazilians who are willing to try to interpret my sign language, have all popped out of the woodwork frequently, and often just at the right moment.
Tonight, I will go to Brasilia, the capital city, where my birth family lives. My plan is to stay there for a few days before I meet them, in order to improve my language skills. I have a long way to go, but I have confidence that when the time is right, what will be will be. By that time my mom and Charles will be there too, and their support will be much appreciated.
