Sinto a sua falta!

Sempre penso em milhares de coisas pra escrever e acabo nao escrevendo nada! Mas a verdade e que hoje estou um tanto agoniada e sinto que preciso "desabafar"!
Agoniada? Alguma razao especifica? Nao sei... pode ser... Mas talvez seja porque ja e quase final de ano... o Natal esta chegando... e me dei conta de que a gente nao vai estar junto desta vez! Entao me deu uma saudades de ti!
Sempre penso em voce, a saudade volta e meia aparece... mas hoje, hoje estou sentindo uma dorzinha aqui dentro!
Queria ter voce neste momento pra poder conversar, trocar ideias, falar besteiras... ou apenas pra contar as coisas... dar risada, lembrar das coisas do passado... falar do presente, falar do futuro...
Queria ter voce neste momento porque voce faz eu me sentir realmente a vontade... voce, so de olhar pra mim consegue entender o que estou sentindo, o que quero dizer... e nem precisa falar nada pra conversa fluir, porque so no seu olhar tambem ja endendo a resposta!
Nao estou triste, nao estou chateada, nao estou depressiva, nao estou estressada! So sinto falta do contato, do abraco sincero, da voz confortante, da sua expressao!

Sim, e com voce mesmo que estou falando... voce que esta lendo esse post nesse blog quase abandonado... Voce que se importa e que e tao importante pra mim... So quero que saibas que estou sentindo muito a sua falta!

Redencao!

Ate outro dia estava indignada com os Estados Unidos pela sua aparente falta de interesse na Copa do Mundo... Tudo bem que o "soccer" nao e o esporte favorito dos americanos - eles nao sentem, nao vibram, nao se orgulham com o futebol (razoes clara depois de ver os Estados Unidos ser derrotado por 3 a 0 da Republica Checa na segunda-feira). Diferente do basquete, basebol, futebol americano, do hoquei no gelo, do golf aqui na Florida, entre tantos outros esportes, a nossa "pelada" nao ganha tanta repercucao e espaco na midia americana. E tambem nao se ve mesmo as pessoas falando no assunto por aqui, faixas nas ruas, propagandas na televisao, bandeira americana penduradas nas janelas (quer dizer, isso a gente ve sim, mas com certeza nao e por causa da Copa do Mundo, ne?). Quanto mais parar o pais todo pra assistir a uma partida da selecao americana como fazemos ai no Brasil para ver os nossos canarinhos!

Porem, a minha redencao nao e por estar conseguindo assistir aos jogos da Copa, e principalmente do Brasil, aqui nos EUA. O que me surpreendeu mesmo nesta ultima terca-feira, June 13, foi sim a singela demonstracao de adimiracao dos apresentadores e acredito que de toda a equipe da Espn pela nossa selecao. No programa "World Cup Live", antes de comecar o jogo Brasil X Croacia, o programa apresentou um "especial" sobre a selecao brasileira. A historia do nosso rei Pele, imagens e elogios aos nossos idolos Ronaldo, Ronaldinho Gaucho e outros, dos torcedores fantasiados de verde-amearelo, vibrando, torcendo, sofrendo junto. Deixaram claro a admiracao pelo nossa originalidade, pelas jogadas brilhantes, pela nossa "ginga", pela nossa energia (de todos nos brasieiros), pelo nosso espirito de "time", pelo nosso amor a camisa. "I love Brazil because a little samba combined with soccer is irresistible!"

Agora vamos e convenhamos, nao da pra contraria-los, ne? Noa e a toa que somos pentacampeoes! E e nessas horas que da muito orgulho de ser brasileiro e mais forca para vestir a camisa, pendurar a bandeira na janela e torcer... em busca do hexa!!

E mesmo aqui, neste pais aparentemente desinteressado pela Copa do Mundo, enquanto a vida continuava normalmente la fora... em casa, sozinha, sem cornetas, sem fogos de artificios, sem alguem para abracar na hora do gol, longe da minha familia, longe da energia desse pais maravilhoso que e o nosso Brasil, eu vibrei, gritei, xinguei, torci... e muito!!

Welcome to my new life

E muito bizarro... de repente caio na real de onde estou, o que estou fazendo, o que esta acontecendo comigo... Sinceramente, quando eu poderia um dia imaginar que moraria, mesmo que por 6 meses, 1 ano ou 2, num pais diferente de onde nasci, ficar tanto tempo longe da minha casa, da minha familia, dos meus amigos? Passar uns tempo nos Estados Unidos, na Florida, em Orlando, na Disney?

Ha 8 ano conheci a Disney pela primeira vez... um sonho, um encanto, a magia toma mesmo conta desse lugar! Nao tem como nao se apaixonar! Nao querer voltar! E voce pode vir quantas vezes puder que sempre vai ser assim... Maravilhoso!
Mas morar assim tao pertinho, ha poucos quilometros e poder ir quantas vezes quiser (se o bolso ajudar, claro!) e muito surreal pra mim...
Tudo parece um tanto surreal nesta fase por qual estou passando agora... Morar sozinha, com a pessoa que eu amo (tipo, quase casada... eu disse quase, nao se empolguem!), cuidar da "minha" casinha nova, das contas pra pagar, ir ao supermercado, cozinhar, conhecer lugares totalmente novos, pessoas novas... outra lingua... outra cultura...

E o mais estranho e de repente me dar conta de que ja estou vivendo o dia-a-dia daqui, rotina, cotidiano... Mesmo ainda nao trabalhando, estudando, produzindo de verdade, como eu queria, os lugares, as coisas ja estao se tornando, pouco a pouco "normais".

De repente percebo que ja estou me acostumando com o cheiro dos Estados Unidos (que e muito diferente e muito bom!), com o transito rapido daqui, com as ruas super largas e as quadras imensas (todas as lojas e lugares sao quase sempre isolados por estacionamentos gigantes, tornando tudo muito longe pra ir a pe), com os trajetos (basicamente ja nao preciso mais de mapa pra ir aos lugares basicos), com o calor, com os canais de televisao (comedia americana e desenhos - o Igor adora!), com as mega-stores, com as marcas e produtos daqui, com os americanos estranhos... Com a minha cidadezinha linda. Winter Park e muito show! Cheia de lagos, limpinhas, gente bonita, lojas chiquerrimas... Muito fofa!

Enfim, esta sendo mesmo uma experiencia incrivel... So espero realmente poder aproveitar ao maximo essa oportunidade... Estou tentando, do meu jeito, mas estou!

Family Tradition

Merecidamente segue um texto cujo autor serpreendeu a mim e a muitos outros que o conhecem ao demonstrar sua grande capacidade e criatividade em apresentar o que seria um "mero" trabalho de faculdade!
Um memoir, que descreve em detalhes um trecho veridico de sua vida, permitindo ao leitor vizualizar e sentir a historia, o ambiente.

Family Tradition

It was summer in Japan, and Kyoto was particularly hot that afternoon, I tend to get easily annoyed in hot weather but I was trying not to show , because it was my first time in Japan and I didn’t want to look ungrateful in any way.
We were on our way back to the hotel from a series of meetings in the morning, we were both very tired, I was sweating inside the black suit. I was looking outside noticing on how all the buildings had big electronic panels with ads on them, It felt like I had traveled to another world, I was 15 at the time so I was really impressed with everything. I got so distracted that I didn’t noticed when my father said a few words to the cab driver in Japanese.
Finally, when I realized we were kind of far from downtown and that the cab trip was taking too long I asked my father “Where is this guy taking us? I don’t remember our hotel being anywhere near this place.” My voice carried a little annoyance, my father had a serious but far away look on his face, he answered “There’s a place I’d like you to see here in Kyoto”.
I continued the rest of the trip in silence, thinking where he could possibly be heading at that hour of the day, after all those meetings, but something in his voice told me that this place meant something to him.
Arriving at what it was supposedly the place , I noticed a lot of people coming and going through a very tight and long street, this street was going up the hill and was slightly curved to the right so I couldn’t see the end of it.
It seemed like a market place, there were little stores and tents on both sides of the street. That sight wasn’t very pleasant in my point of view, although I found the place very interesting, the idea of hundreds of people in one tight street in a terribly hot day after a long session of meetings sounded like madness, I just wanted to get to the damn hotel, take my shoes off, turn the air conditioner on and drink a freezing cold bottle of coke in bed.

As soon as the taxi drove away, I realized that maybe the day would be a lot longer than I thought. As we walked through the street and into the stores I noticed they all sold traditional Japanese goods, swords, kimonos and there were even little tents cooking and selling food. Even feeling hot, sweaty and extremely uncomfortable on those clothes, the smell of boiling soy sauce and vegetables along with all that Japanese people talking and laughing, bumping on one another for some space inside the tiny stores made me feel good somehow, all these people were in a good mood it seemed, it was like they had no worries in their minds that day, and the heat of the summer didn’t seemed to be bothering them. I realized that I was smiling, that was so “not me” in a situation like this.
I looked over my father’s face and he seemed pleased with something, so I thought maybe it was a good time to ask him what was so different about this street, after all I still couldn’t understand why wouldn’t we come back here some other day, when we wouldn’t be tired and dressed uncomfortably, also, shopping wasn’t really his thing, unless it’s about some electronic device designed to make your life easier, but that will be obsolete in one month. So I asked him “Dad, want to tell me what’s so special about this place? I’m betting we’re not here to buy gifts or mochi candy” he laughed and replied “Why? I thought you would enjoy a nice walk up the hill in plain summer” , he said it while checking a wooden statue of a Buddhist goddess, still freshly sculpted by the old chubby Japanese artisan, dressed in a blue kimono and whistling an unknown song while he cleaned his tools, probably preparing himself to make another sculpture. His tent was erected in front of his store, and a strong smell of wet wood was coming from it. I smirked on my father’s sarcastic comment and thought “He’s up to something..” then said, after a minute “ Well you’re not telling me something, I can tell, but if you want to play all mysterious and evasive on me for now suit yourself”. He laughed “Have patience with your old man, let’s go, these statues are too expensive.”.
As we walked up the little street I realized that my feet were killing me, I always hated shoes of any kind, if I could, I would walk bare footed all the time. I was deep within my thoughts of feet and how the world would be such a better place without formal shoes when my father said “ Ok we’re finally here…” .

I looked up from my shoes to a very spacious plateau, to the left I saw a big red pagoda building and to the right there was a big gate, made of wood. I was confused for a moment thinking “Huh? When did the little street became a huge plateau with giant buildings?” I had forgot about my feet completely now.
I looked to my dad speechless and still a bit confused, he said “ C’mon, let’s get going” . We walked up some cement stairs across the plateau towards the big wooden gate, once past the gate there was a walkway, like a bridge, also made of wood , which looked old but incredibly firm. The bridge was long and had a roof made of wood and straw.
When we arrived at the end of it I saw something that was inexplicably beautiful, we were out of the city, tall and vivid green trees appearing to be hundreds of years old filled a mountain around us, and the was this incredible temple in the middle of it, it was not actually one temple only, there were several small buildings around it, and some paths into the mountain that would lead into a few more buildings.
I felt numb, words actually failed me, I felt peace, like there was some sort of relaxing energy waves emanating from this place, and those waves gently surrounded my body and made all the weariness go away as if by magic. My father seemed to be lost in his thoughts as well, because we were both silent.
We took our shoes off and walked in the main building, a soothing smell of incense surrounded the place. The incense was coming from several bowls placed on a stand, in front of a big statue of a goddess, there were some people kneeled, hands together, their voices mixed smoothly in the room, murmuring incomprehensible mantras. We kneeled ourselves and stood there in silence for some time. My father had his eyes closed but I couldn’t think of a reason to close mine, I was absorbing the place with all my senses, the smell, the goddess statue, the sound of the prayers, the feel of the tatami mat under me, everything was perfect, if the time froze right then, I knew I would be comfortable for all eternity.
My father opened his eyes looked at me and moved his head in direction to the door, indicating that we should move on. I bowed for some reason to the goddess before standing up, not knowing what I was doing. Shoes on again we went on one of the paths on the mountain, bamboo trees on both sides of the trail, I felt like this place was strangely familiar, and déjà vu came to my mind a few times, maybe a sign of strong emotions mixed with body weariness? I never felted like that in my life, and I was amazed, I knew this experience would conflict with my skeptic point of view and logical thinking soon, but I was not a bit worried about that at the time, it seemed like my opinion about it was completely irrelevant, and I felt small, very small, but in an incredibly good kind of way.

Lost again in my thoughts I almost didn’t heard my father say “Do you feel thirsty? I can go for a drink, what you think?”, that informal question broke the silence between us, unconsciously carried out through the entire temple visit. With a nod I simply said “Definitely” , I couldn’t think of anything else to say to that question, I had forgot the heat completely but as soon as I heard those words, my throat felt dry and I realized I was very thirsty indeed.
There was a humble building at the end of the path, with some tables on the ground right next to it, the tables were covered with a tent and the flooring under the tables was red, and slightly leveled up from the ground. We sat down on one of the tables, not forgetting to take our shoes off, and I realized the flooring was made of wood and the red carpet over it felt like silk. There was a little menu on the table, but there were no drinks, only weird foods listed in it.
When the waiter showed up I heard my father say something to him in Japanese, the man nodded and went back inside. I shrugged and thought maybe my father asked the man for water or something, I forgot about it for a moment and looked around, the left side of the tables was filled with bamboo trees, as green as they can possibly get in the summer. The red carpet, the humble store and the bamboo trees, it was all simply perfect, I needed nothing else on that moment, well, except something to drink.
The waiter finally came back, with a small teapot and two cups, filled with ice. He filled the two cups with a dark green liquid, my father thanked the waiter, who nodded back with a smile. At that moment I looked at the drink and frowned at it, my father noticed my confusion and laughed “ Try it, I bet you will like it” , I took a sip and tasted the cold green drink, it was slightly bitter but very refreshing, then overwhelmed by thirst I drank the whole cup in two other big sips. I felt renewed and relaxed.
My father poured some more of the drink in my cup after I was done, looked at me for a moment and then said “ It’s green tea, how do you like it?” I answered with all sincerity “ I love it!” , he smiled at me and finally told me what I’ve been wanting to know since I got out of the taxi “ When I first came here I was about five years older than you are right now, I was an exchange student at the time and came to Kyoto for sightseeing. I never thought such a place would exist until I finally got to see it with my own eyes. It made me think how wonderful the world really is, and how small we actually are. I came here on this exact same day, 22 years ago.” He paused for a second “I promised myself I would come back here someday with my son” his voice was firm, but his eyes were filled with emotion, I can only imagine what he was feeling.
Finally he said “I want you to make a promise to me.” I nodded in reply “What is it dad?” , he looked me in the eye and said “ Promise me you will comeback here someday with your son, promise you will do your best for it to happen.”.
I looked at him for a moment and said seriously “I promise.”, he smiled and started drinking his green tea again, looking distantly at the bamboo trees. I looked down to my cup, the ice had melted mixing up with the tea, I finished the drink with a sip and thought to myself “ I will…”.

(Igor Silka)

Insonia Produtiva... e Contagiosa

O que fazer quando se perde o sono no meio da madrugada?

Estava eu domindo um sono "tranquilo" quando de repente, do alem, acordo e vejo que ainda sao 2h00 da manha… Odeio quando isso acontece! Ao inves de me virar para o lado e voltar a dormir, meus pensamentos nao conseguem me deixar pegar no sono novamente…

O corpo exausto e cabeca a mil por hora!! Meu Deus, que tanto pensa essa menina? Ta ai, tambem nao sei… Obviamente bobagens… sempre sao bobagens… Primeiro sempre fico tentando me lembrar o que eu estava sonhando, principalmente quando o sonho parecia bom… E quando consigo lembrar fico inventando milhares de continuacoes e finais para ele… claro, que geralmente imagino finais legais!! De repente ja me pego pensando em besteiras do cotidiano, coisas rotineiras… passado, presente… pessoas... “o que estao fazendo a essa hora?”, futuro… planos, planos e mais planos… (quase sempre “esquecidos” na manha seguinte!).

Me viro para um lado, me viro para o outro… Nada! De barriga pra cima… Pessimo! Quem sabe de barriga pra baixo? … Vixi, piorou! E dobra a perna, e estica a perna… Ai que nervos!! Ta calor… entao, tira a coberta! Minutos depois, puxa a coberta de novo! “Ptz, daqui a pouco vou levar um xingao!”

Finalmente resolvo levantar e meio “zonza” vou ate a sala… A luz do corredor esta acesa… o que encontro em cima da mesa? O computador! Ah, bendito seja o computador! E pra tentar deixar essa “insonia” um pouco produtiva, decido entao finalmente criar um blog… O blog da Sami Semi Neusa Light! (Sejam bem vindos!!)

“Vixi, alguem acordou!”
- O que foi, meu amor? - Pergunto.
- Perdi o sono!