Come On, Irene

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In case you haven't heard, a category 3 hurricane, a vicious woman by the name of Irene, is ripping up the Bahamas on its way up the east coast. Expected to hit Boston this weekend, the bitch better clear out next Friday. The first time I traveled to Brazil, a little hussy known as Katrina was tearing things up in the Gulf. We'd had a hell of a storm here in New Hampshire, too; parking lots flooded, roads destroyed, trees broken and flung around like used toothpicks. Weather Gods, you listening? I'd like to get out of the country without being tossed from the sky, please.

So. Yes. One week out. Still a lot to do. Trying to stay busy and not think of how I will miss family and friends. Beyond excited to see my girl. Maria's been down there since the beginning of July. Any time apart sucks. It doesn't get easier as time goes on. You never get used to it.

In jiu-jitsu related news, the IBJJF Boston Open is tomorrow. I am not competing (limited training last month, sore ankle, unwilling to pay $102 to enter), but BJJ Revolution teammate, training partner, and friend Paul Gelinas is fighting in the open weight division as a purple belt. Paul kicks ass. I don't think he'll need me to coach him, but I'll certainly be there for moral support.

Then, of course, UFC Rio tomorrow night with a gang of good friends. Who are your picks?

That Damned Subconscious

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I had the dream last night. You know, the one where you're in school and you've forgotten the combination to your locker. Or you have a huge test to study for but you can't find your textbooks. Or you're late for class, and no matter how fast you try to run, gravity is against you. It clings to your limbs and weighs down your feet as if you're slogging through quicksand. In last night's version, I was to meet one of my mentors, John Searles, at a haunted hotel in the snowy New Hampshire north country. Our meeting set for one o'clock, sharp, because John had a plane to catch, I had somehow lost track of time. At three o'clock, panicking, I ran through gravitational quicksand to the parlor where he'd said to meet, but John, of course, was gone.

Researchers seem to agree that these types of dreams commonly represent worry or anxiety about a major life change. At 23 days out from departure, this is the first time I've had the dream since planning my three-and-a-half month trial move to Brazil. As more and more checkmarks are added to The Official Preparatory To Do List™, as each day creeps by, it sinks in deeper that this is actually happening.

Still, the worries remain lodged in the subconscious, chained to a metal bed in a dark room, but that's where they will stay. I refuse to let worry dictate how I'll live my life. There is simply too much to experience, too much to learn about in this world, and so little time to do it.

Almost There

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Just over three weeks now before I hop a plane in Boston, connect in Houston, and hopefully end up in Sao Paulo without being dumped into the ocean (or the earth) on the way. Let's get these pilots some training, eh?

I finally received my renewed visa last week, this time valid for ten years. Brazil is part of a reciprocity program with the United States, which means that they require U.S. citizens to travel with a visa simply because we require Brazilian citizens to have a visa when they travel to the U.S. This is expected to end next year, in light of new "business opportunities" (that is, the dollar signs Washington saw in the massive oil deposit recently discovered off of the coast of Rio de Janeiro), as well as the 2014 World Cup and 2016 Olympics in Brazil.

Of course, I still had to pay $140 for a new visa, even though it will most likely be unnecessary next year. Perfect timing. Sigh.

Parking, Metal, and Stress

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"I will watch your car," the man said, in Portuguese of course. He wore a sleeveless shirt, shorts tattered and frilly at the knees. No shoes. His wrinkled, sun worn skin sported a number of bruises, scrapes, cuts. Maybe a track mark or two.

I started to wave him off, tell him we were all set. There were plenty of other vehicles parked outside the zoo. The area looked nice--and safe--enough. I wasn't worried.

Maria caught my hand. "Let him do it," she said, low caution in her voice, eyes always alert and darting from the man to the two kids climbing out of our car. "It's okay. Just give him a quarter when we leave."

Later, I found out just how common this practice was in Brazil, or at least in that part of the city. It's complete pretense, a way for poor people to earn a little change by watching your vehicle. But from whom are they protecting it? Don't be fooled; you're not paying them to protect your car as much as you are paying for them to not destroy it.

For some reason, this backdoor manipulation shocked me. It seemed so shady, so insincere, so passive-aggressive. But what did I have to compare it to? Is it really that different than the drunken homeless guy outside of Circle K in Boston begging for five bucks so he could score another 40-ounce? Or the woman sitting next to the drive-thru at Jack In The Box in Tucson, half a tit swinging out from under her sweat stained t-shirt, accosting customers as they order their burgers? "I know you got change," she'd say. "You didn't order off the goddamned dollar menu."

Maybe I should have asked the guy to help me move the car when we left.

On a completely unrelated note, I have secured my ticket to the Machine Head/Sepultura concert at Via Funchal on October 14. As I've been a fan of Sepultura for over twenty years, and Machine Head since their inception in 1993, I've seen both bands a number of times across the world. Seeing them together--and in Sao Paulo, no less--will be something special.

Also, as some of you may be aware, I am writing a biography of Sepultura, so I'm working to score some interviews with the band and crew while they're in town.

Things are getting hectic here. I have a deadline tomorrow, and at least a few thousand words to write today. My apartment looks like a Tazmanian devil has swept through, and I have to be out of here in less than a week. I'm waiting for my passport (with renewed visa) to come back, after being returned once already, unapproved, due to an application error.

I'm trying to make friends with stress. It looks like he's going to be here for a while.

All Is Revealed

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I've been dropping hints here, and on Twitter and Facebook, so if you've been paying attention at all, you have likely figured out already that I am heading to Brazil soon. More than just a vacation, this will be an attempt to integrate myself into a culture I have been obsessed with for many years. My fiancee is there now, writing her own blog about coming home after such a long time living abroad. I'll be joining her on September 2, returning stateside in December for Christmas with the family and my winter residency with SNHU's MFA program, and then back to Brazil early next year.

This blog will serve several purposes. It will be:

1. A log of my adventures for family and friends to easily follow.
2. A writing exercise exploring cultural experiences and the process of change, eventually to be expanded upon and turned into a book.
3. A compendium of stories about the Brazilian lifestyle from the perspective of a gringo.
4. A literary study of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, a variant of the Japanese martial art known as jujutsu.

I've been involved with martial arts since I was fifteen, experimenting with everything from kung fu to karate to capoeira, but only discovered my passion for Jiu-Jitsu in 2006. In 2008, I received my blue belt from Matthew Gomez (a certified black belt instructor under the great Julio "Foca" Fernandez), and while in Brazil, I've been invited to train with Leonardo Vieira at the Checkmat HQ in Sao Paulo. Much of my personal philosophy comes from the translation of martial arts' lessons into everyday life--a journey inspired by my first instructor, David Walters, some twenty years ago--so you will get a taste of that, too.

Follow along, be inspired, and let's do this together.

Jay

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Been a busy couple of days. Wrote and trained jiu-jitsu, as usual, but also met with the landlady about terminating my rental contract. Made appointments to get my wisdom teeth pulled and a medical check-up, two very important things that had to be done while I still have insurance. Arranged my training. Took head shots and mailed out paperwork to get my visa renewed. Skyped with the girl and got to see our temporary digs. It's coming closer, and becoming more real with each day.

Still have to figure out what to do with my car, and I keep looking around this apartment with a terrible heaviness in my gut. There's so much stuff, but I'm trying to slip into Life Simplification Mode, which means a lot of it will be sold or trashed. I'd like to store as little as possible: mementos, pictures, books, guitars. It's funny how we hang onto things we don't really need, and sometimes it's only years later that we realize how much these things weigh us down.

That's all for now. Still can't talk specifics, but as posted below, all will be revealed on August 1. Maybe a few days before, if I'm feeling saucy.

J.

Mark Your Calendars

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The shroud of secrecy here will finally be pulled back on August 1, 2011. See you then.