And so, traveled to Portugal. Stayed in Lisbon. Visited small cute towns like Obidos. Come along with me as I climb a rooftop in Obidos? Don't worry if you hear me speaking out of breathe. It was a different altitude, but we will make it to the top together. Come along.
Toured the towns, ate fresh fish, and scored a rooftop view from the hotel.
Learned some things. Stuff you probably already know. Cite any great person's beautiful quote hear. God bless, hope to see you online. Cheers :)
You lost someone, you know it was tough after my friend died. Visited the places we liked to go to in the neighborhood. Mostly rooftops. So, I went. I went up and looked around. Can't see through the walls, but we can see a lot more from a higher perspective.
Met with pals, said good bye to old friends, began to turn a new leaf.
Hello. How are you?
I am happy to see you here. May I please invite you to join me for a brief update of things after returning from my fantastic experience in the Peace Corps in Mozambique, July 23, 2011? Like you I lived and met so many truly beautiful people. It is not nothing to meet super special people. It is truly thrilling. I've loved friends, lost friends, traveled some, published an article, enrolled at a jesuit university, and continue to practice Portuguese some.
Met great pals for lunch earlier in the year. They're wonderful. Amazing, lovely. One is an amazingly brilliant adorable astrophysicist, ok not exactly but he could be. The other is an amazingly brilliant adorable fearless philanthropist, ok not exactly but he could be. I had the good fortune of meeting these wonderful guys upon my return from the Peace Corps. They're dolls. Earlier in the year, we chatted for a few before a walk to get a bite. One asked me: are you still updating your blog? Delighted. Happily surprised. Never really knew that ether of them had read it. And so, will update it between now and the end of the year, on the off chance that you may be interested or if my pals bump into it again.
My blog update begins with love. Her name was Angela. She was Irish and Italian, patient and beautiful. Her hands were as soft as a cloud. And she was as strong as iron. She was fearless. She was Catholic. She was gorgeous. She was so smart. So much passion. Angela was the best friend I ever had. We met at Catholic University. We were classmates. She died of breast cancer in 2013.
Will update more soon, and finish by the end of the year.
It’s been three months since I returned from the Peace Corps in Mozambique.
I deeply miss my rural village in one of the northern provinces in Mozambique, my good neighbors, the sunlit landscape, the sun soaked blue skies, the support of the gritty sandy dirt under my flip-flops or Birkenstocks, the sweaty hot days that could melt pretensions and calories too, the breeze under the mango tree, and the quiet dark nights that lit the way for the new day.
On the other hand, I won’t miss the black scorpions the size of my left hand and the big hybrid looking spider I call The Wobbler, that’s for sure.
I went, yes, but why; the answer is an old and used cliché; I thought the Peace Corps in Mozambique needed me (capital “m”), I was sure of it; but I needed the Peace Corps in Mozambique, with humility that is something I know.
Go Peace Corps, Go Moz.
I am still job searching and applied to approximately 7 places over the past two weeks. I returned from Africa almost 2 months ago. My eyes and outlook on things here in the States are still fresh, wide open, positive and grateful. I’m happy to be back with family and friends. However, I sincerely miss Mozambique.
One of my buddies from Moz Facebook’ed me a nice hello a few days ago. And I told him that I missed my village, everyone in in it, and Moz very much. I also miss all of the fresh foods, clean air, beautiful skies, the mountains, but … there are things that I don’t miss like the electricity slapping off in the entire village for long hot hours or extraneously long days and nights. But diner by candlelight proved to be fun and I could always talk and laugh with neighbors under the shade of a mango tree in Mozambique. It truly was the simple things in my village that were sweet and made life without the basics, like houses made according to building codes and bathrooms that flush or running water, enjoyable sans the basic amenities.
The latest book I read was Everything Is Obvious, and now Hamlet is in my queue.
I saw an interesting hip hop documentary the other day about rap group A Tribe Called Quest. It is called Beats, Rhymes & Life. The group was formed when they were young kids. Most of the story takes place in Queens and shows some of the early artist of hip hop culture including Run DMC nominated for a Grammy, and Grammy Award winning artist LL Cool J who’s portrait sits in the National Portrait Gallery in Washington, DC. The documentary about A Tribe Called Quest shares an interesting story, and the soundtrack is a lot of fun.
Saw an interesting hip hop documentary
About A Tribe Called Quest, no not Public Enemy
They were four young men
They didn’t own a Benz
Took the subway, rapped in Queens, and hit the Billboard Charts
They were a talented group who rapped from their hearts
Nominated for a Grammy
Although they didn’t win any
They were an artsy group with a colorful discography
I was visiting the National Air & Space Museum in Washington, DC. It was a hot hot and humid humid day. I opened the doors to the grand museum and was met by a wall of air conditioning. The cool recycled air in the building was very refreshing. I got a bottle of cold water and enjoyed the exhibits.
I am still job hunting and applied for 6 research and writing positions last week. I have been back in Washington, DC for approximately three weeks now, and still have a fresh-eyes look on things.
Bad Boys Bad Boys What You Gonna Do, What You Gonna Do When They Come For You...
The other day I was walking to Metro. I crossed the street and a quick scan showed two males sitting on the stairs by the laundromat. It was hot and sunny. A car pulled up to the laundromat powerful and fast. A few guys jumped out of the car, armed and clearly displaying police regalia. Before I could breathe they were standing by the two males and talking to them. I got tense because I expected the two males could run and make things ugly. So I picked up my walking pace and scanned around, no one seemed to be running toward or away from the situation. No loud noises, no arguments, things seemed under control.
Two young women stopped to watch the laundromat scene. One of the women had on khaki colored lipstick, it didn’t look very nice and I hopped it was not a new style. I felt a lot better when I passed by the whole scene, including the two women, and got to the other block. Thought of the theme song to the show Cops, and that the cops handled the situation, whatever it was, very well.
Besides the general drama of the city streets, I had lots of fun dog sitting last week.
The dog is such a good buddy and he’s so cute. When I am walking him, the guys in the neighborhood playfully call out: Hey Fido, Look at Fido, Look at my dog Fido go! It’s playful and funny because the dog’s name is not Fido, but that’s what they call him anyway. And we don’t mind because they call out in good fun.
Post Peace Corps: Metro Art
I met a local Washington, DC artist while I was riding Metro the other day.
His name is Nikkita and he calls himself a “starving artist.”
I saw him sketching a portrait of a woman at the station where I got on the subway.
When he finished sketching the woman, she said that she didn’t have money to give him but she offered him 2 cigarettes instead. He turned down the cigarettes. A man sitting in the same car, who was sitting by himself and didn’t seem to know the cigarette woman, gave the artist 2 dollars. The woman said thanks, the artist said thanks, and the woman took her portrait.
Nikkita turned to me and asked if he could sketch me. I took off my sunglasses, smiled and said sure.
The artist is really talented. The portrait looks great and he sketched it in about 4 Metro stops.
PBS News Hour featured him in a news story, “Drawing & Hustling in Washington, DC.” Here’s the you tube link…
I have applied for 4 research and writing positions this week and I live with good friends in DC.
It’s hot here but nothing worth complaining about.
3 funny things I’ve heard this week in DC….
(1) At a retail store…
Woman 1 says: Girl what does this mean? (She holds up 2 dresses) size 1, size 2...
Woman 2 says: What does it matter, you ain’t no size 1 and you definitely ain’t no size 2
This is so funny to me because I missed the Washington, DC flavor and humor
(2) Walking to Metro…
A nice strange man calls out to me and says: Hey baby girl
This is funny because I am 30 … something, but flattered so I smile and say …”hey”
(3) Possibly Intoxicated Man…
On Metro, a man sings to himself and keeps looking over his shoulder at me
I decided he needs attention and didn’t want any trouble so I look straight forward and I say …“uhm humh”
It alleviates an awkward conversation with the possibly intoxicated Metro man
Washington DC still has its humor and all is well
Tracy, Peace Corps in Mozambique October 2010 - July 2011