Kites, among other things

I have a Portuguese test tomorrow. Which is obviously why I am writing this right now.

I sometimes run to Jesus (the statue which sits on a hill overlooking two separate gorgeous beaches.) Jesus is a popular destination for locals, an excellent vantage point for picture taking tourists, and most importantly the perfect place to fly a kite. When I run I guess I look at least kind of Brazilian if I keep my mouth shut and try to look as tan as I can, so the vendors around Jesus don't bother with me and I can perch on the ledge over the ocean and just observe. Soccer games, surfers, fishermen, tourists all doing their thing way down on the beach below. And above me in the sky - kites!

Every time I have been to Jesus there have been at least a handful of people kite fighting (readkiterunnerreadkiterunnerreadkiterunner.) All of the kite fighters are male - a mixture of boys and men and they all have their skill down to an art. They usually just fly their kites way up in the sky so that all you can see is a speck of color. Then one will challenge another and they will bring the kites in closer so they can fight. They reel in the kites as they start swooping and diving at each other. Each will toy with the other, while issuing a constant stream of portuguese challenges and whoops. They dive in very close, trying to use the string of their kite to cut the string of their opponent's kite (or the kite itself.) The battles can last a while usually with many close calls. When one kite is cut free the victor taunts and cheers while issuing challenges to anyone who can hear. The free kite usually ends up floating back down toward the sand and its owner will sprint down the hill hoping to catch it before anyone else (or the ocean) does.

All the kites I have seen are bright - lime green, pink, red, orange and look gorgeous against the bright blue sky. I usually get pretty carried away watching them and lose track of time completely. It is hard to pick yourself back up and run home when you are lying on a ledge looking straight up in the sky at two little kites fighting above the ocean. Last time I ran there my mae thought I had been running the whole time I was gone - which was apparently three hours - and she though I was absolutely insane. Dinner was bigger than usual that night.

Sometimes I walk a ways home before catching a bus when it starts to get pretty dark. Yesterday I guess I chose to wait for the bus right next to the school for the deaf. It was certainly a fascinating experience. I was sitting under a crowded bus shelter with a group of six kindergarteners who were all deaf. They were all playing and frantically signing to one another. They would "yell" in sign language and motion to everyone else, but it certainly seemed like a struggle to be heard in that crowd. It is hard enough to keep a kindergartner's attention without them having to watch your hands every second, and it certainly seemed that they were all signing at once. From what I could tell no one was really looking at each others hands, they were all watching traffic or playing while signing. The rest of the people waiting for the bus seemed pretty used to the scene and all watched with an "isn't that sweet" look on their face, while making sure to pull the kids back when they got too close to the street.

We did a neighborhood mapping project over this weekend to figure out a little more about where we live just based on visual clues. I was surprised at how much I had missed in my time here just walking through the neighborhood. The differences between the apartments along the beach and those a block away (mine) were rather surprising when I looked closely. Those by the beach each have their own landscaped garden, each apartment has a balcony, and each unit is air conditioned. They also look no more than ten years old. The sidewalks near these are immaculately maintained and free of any debris. A block away all the apartments are at least fifty years old and showing signs of age. The sidewalks are also missing large portions of concrete and usually have a good deal of trash strewn around. They are certainly still comfortable and safe but the difference that crossing the street makes was very interesting to me.

Also while touring my neighborhood I stumbled across a neighborhood AIDS prevention festival. Music, food, dancing and capoeira were all going on in the name of AIDS. People were having a great time and watching some pretty stella capoeira (fighting/dance/game.) I took pictures of it (and other things) and tried to load them but have a crappy connection so nothing has happened yet...we'll see. For all you know I could be sitting in a hotel room in Las Vegas telling you all stories of things that I stole from someone else's blog.

Oh and by the way for all those interested (Brendan) the coffee - and it IS coffee, not espresso - is brewed so incredibly strongly that people dring about an ounce at a time. Literally a cup of coffee smaller than an average shot of espresso. It is called cafezinho and the flavor is pretty good but the strength of it just about kills me. HOWEVER there are people who sell the coffee EVERYWHERE. All these men walk around with little carts of coffee and cigarettes (they design the carts so that they look like various types of cars and trucks, steering wheels and all!) selling it all day long.

Must go study because I'm pretty sure Spanish verb conjugations aren't going to cut it for a test.