chasing movement

Category: city

From something to nowhere

I’m literally in the middle of nowhere. I just moved to Natal, northeast Brazil, for a gig at the laboratory of the most polemic  Brazilian researcher ever. I’d describe his appreciation as a very skewed bimodal distribution.

Adaptation has been tough tho. Job hasn’t started yet and I’m still airbnb-ing. My host has a cat – friendly but quite demanding – and a parrot. Yes, a parrot. I had to remind myself how common and even funny this is in a South American context. But when he vocalizes ‘amigo’, it’s just so bizarre and odd. Not bad just so so bizarre. Even more for being posted at the Boston Iron Blog. So, I decided that the cambriville folks deserve to see a pic of him.

If Natal is a state capital and it didn’t realize yet (there is little to do over here), our offices are in a lost land that indeed exists. As controversial as it might sound my current messy mindset about this place, the curious facts didn’t finish yet.

Natal is one of the capitals that were once upon a time part of Dutch Brazil. It was known as New Amsterdam, title attributed to NYC nowadays – at least for some. The Portuguese took it over when the Dutch realized Natal was not a good market colony anymore. And there we are, Brazilians, embodying our Portuguese heritage of being fulfilled with little – both in good and bad aspects of it. Oh, comfort zone, were you lost on the graving of the ancient Portuguese endeavours that launched their chance over seas?

By the way, I started reading Zorba, by Niko Kazantzakis, and it brings me so much about the faith and roughness of lost sailors. Am I one of them? For sure, leaving home behind and loosing the concept of it makes one as tough as sailors’ hands. The rope is there and I’m with it. Strings attached everywhere  but one has two eyes: one for the wheel, the other to the rope.

“Dutch Brazil” on @Wikipedia:

ain’t no space for me

Today, the rain was somehow so similar to snow. I could feel it. Listening to Godspeed, I could sense Montreal while waiting for the bus. My thoughts have been loose and I’m lost. Into the deepest of my own, I can barely stand the feeling that I don’t know what I’ve done or thought against what I’ve been dreamed about.
I’m late and this is a continuum. But I can’t tell I haven’t been able to prioritize. Buses are just so fucking horrible. It’s school break and I didn’t take this into account.
No. No umbrella for me. I like the feeling of this drizzle on my hair. It’s not enough rain to interfere on my phone’s touch screen. Fair enough. No bus. No bus. I’ll be damn late.

Time for a shelter. Fucking stupid public transportation. Fuckin mafia.

No. It was not.
Another one in the corner. Maybe….

I took it as I used to do everyday. How pretty and stressful commutes can be. It’s just a question of having time for it.

My hip is odd. Better, it’s just like any other humid day of pain. My back is on fire, distressed and unquiet. It talks to me every minute while I ignore it and try to dismiss this weird conversation and the alert.

Oh. I’ll be late. Godamn.

Weirdos alike, I feel safe. Godspeed, oh Godspeed, you give me explosions in the sky and Le soleil sort de la bouche.

Canada Canada. I ain’t be your son.

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