Arrival in Brazil and Bunda Jeans

First day and already encountered samba in the street!

I made it. I had a great week of send-offs in San Diego, and a great week with my family to whom I owe much gratitude for the last minute shopping and packing help. We had a Thanksgiving dinner together since I won't be there, and when I went into the kitchen they were listening to Christmas music and wearing New Years hats. I miss those guys so much already. Then they put me on a plane and I was finally off. I already had to speak Portuguese with my seat neighbors which was a scary but exciting sign of what was next. I went to Rio by myself almost a year ago, but this time it's going to be to multiple cities over multiple months. Some of it is planned, some of it not, and either way I look forward to see what this adventure brings.



Halysson's mom picked me up at the airport with the same smile and laugh that he has. She's been a wonderful host and guide and we understand each other really well. I'm still feeling overwhelmed and disoriented and not myself, but already I've gotten to see and hear from pretty cool stuff in the last three days. The main reason for my visit to São Paulo is to study with clarinetist Alexandre Ribeiro. On Thursday I was glad to see him and touch base and he showed me around the city a bit. Just walking around we ran into the samba school Pérola Negra parading down the street! I went to see Alexandre perform choro at the totally packed bar Ó do Borogodó. Amazing musicians played from 11pm-3am. It was there that it finally hit me that I am here. I was in a bar in São Paulo dancing to choro when 48 hours prior I was in the US. Dancing there I felt less lonely and more at home. Running into Makiko and Adriana from camp didn't hurt either. Four hours of choro though and I couldn't believe I only recognized one song! 



Halysson's mom has been a generous host and even offered to take me shopping when I discovered that it's actually very cold here and I have a suitcase full of skirts! So on my first full day of what will be a long stay here in Brazil, what better way to combat jet lag, homesickness, and overwhelm than to spend some time under fluorescent lighting trying on jeans? Dona Edna spoke to the ladies in the store to figure out what my size in Brazil would be. I joked that it's hard to find pants in the US because they don't fit someone with my bunda. They laughed and said I'd have no problem here. There were signs with all of the different "fits" that were all in English: skinny, boot cut, flare, carrot. Wait, carrot? I pronounced it with my best Portuguese accent and asked them "o que significa cahotchee?" but they said it doesn't mean anything. I told them it must just be English for cenoura and we pondered why someone would want to look like a carrot. I like to wear boot cut at home but was too afraid to pronounce that one. I pointed and asked the sales clerk, and it was just as I thought: bootchie-cootchie. Yes. Love this place. The trying-on process was still unpleasant but we ended up with a couple of winners. When she liked a pair, Dona Edna would smile and do this gesture like she was zipping her mouth and locking it. At least I think that was a good thing. When I decided between the two pairs, she said in Portuguese, "take them both, for your bunda!"

Thoughts from Camp

Every August for the last five years I have traveled to a special place up in the redwoods for one or two blissful, exciting, relaxing, challenging, scary, inspiring, cell phone-free, gourmet food-fueled, love-filled weeks at California Brazil Camp.  This is not a comprehensive summary, but just a couple of stories about some of my favorite parts.

Brazilian music and culture have become such an important part of my life that the majority of my time and energy is spent studying the music, learning the language, making time to go to camp every year, and saving money to travel to Brazil.  Imagine then getting to spend two weeks with a group of people who feel so strongly about that very same music and culture, that they have the exact same priorities.  These people, most of whom I only see once a year plus on facebook, have become family.  When I rolled into camp I was greeted by a few of them with "welcome home."  I receive more smiles and hugs walking around that place in one morning than I receive in a month elsewhere.  That strong sense of community creates an atmosphere of positivity and encouragement at camp.  I constantly hear people complimenting each other and allowing themselves to receive compliments in return.  That atmosphere gives me confidence to express myself and take risks without the fear of making a mistake.  It's a great environment for self-improvement and self-empowerment.

My attempts at pacing myself at camp are futile against the all-night jams and early morning yoga.  There is this moment of clarity that comes when I am utterly exhausted.  It’s the point past the breaking point where I’ve been burning the candle at both ends and in the middle.  I’m running on fumes and my brain is over capacity having been memorizing complex rhythms, dance choreography, chord changes, and new friends’ names.  I am overwhelmed with inspiration, energy, adrenaline, and love, but I’m physically and mentally exhausted.  The overwhelm transforms into a kind of meditation where I’m only able to be in the current moment.  In Derek’s Self-Breema class he always emphasizes “single moment, single activity.”  It’s there, in that moment, that my brain shuts off and my body takes over.  I rely on intuition and muscle memory.  I can let go and dance and dance and dance.  And everything inside me breaks apart and leaves me open to listen and receive: receive inspiration, answers, blessings, messages, ideas.  It’s that moment when I push past that I am reduced to my pure self.  All I need to do is create the space to allow myself to hear.


I’m still very much in a place of uncertainty regarding my life and its direction.  What better spiritual place to contemplate my life than in the middle of 2,000 year old redwood trees?  Mestre Nininho shared a lot about the spiritual energy he felt up there, and that the trees contained the spiritual energy of our past selves.  Also with me for the trip was my necklace of Kali, the Hindu Goddess of destruction, creation, and change, who I felt was also appropriate for this chapter of my life full of major endings and beginnings.  One night I dropped her through the slats in the floor of our tent structure.  After I lost a series of coat hangers down there, Brian said the only way I'd get it back was to get under there.  I crawled through dirt and spiders (!) to retrieve her which felt terrifying but also somehow symbolic.  Also symbolic was in Mark's Bata Ketu class when he taught a rhythm for Olokun.  Olokun is the orixa of the mystery at the bottom of the ocean and in ourselves, which served as powerful imagery for me.  So much is a mystery right now.  While I didn’t return from camp with it all figured out, I am filled with inspiration and ideas.  The loudest message I kept hearing over and over again is that I’m where I’m meant to be and I’m on the right path.  What a comfort in a time of uncertainty to feel at peace with the unknown.

The best advice I received at camp was from Greg when I asked him how he manages to do so many things in his life and do them well.  He said "do what you love and do it a lot."  What a perfect sentiment to summarize not only the Brazil Camp experience but how to take it home with us throughout the year.  So that's what I will keep doing, do what I love and let it guide me to the next step.  And keep creating space so I can keep listening.

Leap and the Net Will Appear

After what felt like both a long thought-out decision and a split-second one at the same time, I decided to leave my job at UCSD.  After five years as a student and six more as an employee, I’ve had such a wonderful time there but realized it was time to move on.  The scary part is I left without a concrete next step in place which is something I’ve never done before.  I know I’m meant to be doing something related to music and I’m excited to have the time and energy to dive in completely and figure that out.  The tentative plan is to take the summer to clear my head, give being a full time musician a try, and plan for the next step.  The next step may include spending a few months in Brazil later this year followed by pursuing a master’s degree when I return.  With final paychecks and vacation day payouts, I think I have enough income and health insurance to last me through August.  After that… “it’s a mystery!” (Shakespeare in Love).

Some of the goals and themes for my summer include improving as a musician, finding more private students, getting more gigs, decompressing from wrapping up six years of a job, getting in shape, researching graduate programs, studying for the GRE, making plans for Brazil, making art, making money, and saving money.  Oh yes and enjoying summer in San Diego!

Yesterday began my first work week without an office to head to.  So what have I done so far in my new life aside from going three days without wearing a bra?  I’ve gone for a walk or yoga every morning followed by actually making breakfast and writing my “Artist’s Way” morning pages.  I made the steel cut kind of oatmeal that takes way too long to cook when your normal routine is toast in the car on the way to the office.  I’ve done a fair amount of pacing around the house deciding what to do next.  I have four different rehearsals and a gig this week before I head out of town to a music camp.  I also made thirteen different to-do lists.  Not thirteen “to-dos” but thirteen lists in different categories.  One of them is called “grad school research” for gathering all of the various steps required in looking at programs and applying to schools.  Another one is called “annoying administrative” for tasks I’ve been putting off like going to the DMV.  Another one is called “self-care” and includes all of the things I’d like to make time for including yoga, lap swimming, writing, and making summer cocktails down at the pool.  

 

The lists are helpful to organize my thoughts and not spend all of my unstructured time playing “Draw Something” on my phone.  But I know I need to give myself some slack and not be too demanding of myself, especially in the beginning.  I need to take some time to relax and enjoy this beautiful free time I suddenly have.  I do thrive on being busy and having a full schedule, but I’d hate to leave one busy life just to jump into another busy one.  The space in between where I can be present with my thoughts I think will be the most important during this time.

The verdict so far right up front?  I don’t regret my decision and I feel fairly calm about this new chapter of life.  But the calm is interrupted by bursts of joy, overwhelm, excitement, loneliness, and confusion.  All in just three days!  I’m expecting a roller coaster but looking forward to the ride and looking forward to holding on to those empty spaces.  I’m grateful to my family and friends and roommates for their support without which I wouldn’t be doing any of this.  And I’ll keep you posted on what unfolds.

Sitting In

It has been a challenging and exciting month of saying so long to my comfort zone and sitting in with new musicians and musical styles.

I was invited by a friend to play clarinet for a Spring Equinox celebration complete with yoga class and a belly dance performance all to live music.  They wanted a clarinetist to accompany a snake dancer and sit in on some of the other numbers.  They only had one run through left so I showed up feeling nervous to be playing on the fly and curious to find out if this snake was live or fake. At the centro getting ready were dancers, doumbek drummers, a mandolin, and an oud player. 

Shey and her snake!

I approached two string players first to try and get the low down on what was happening.  Turns out they weren’t playing any actual songs, but just improvising background music.  I asked if they could show me some of their melodies, or tell me which keys or scales they planned to use so I might be able to join them.  The oud player replied “You must be like one of those real musicians, huh?”  I learned there wasn't exactly a plan.  I was going to have to let go and go with the flow if I wanted to be able to hang.  I spoke with a couple of the drummers who told me to just play whatever I felt like whenever I felt like.  Not sure if these guys realized that some of my music background includes marching band and classical music training.  Just making it up doesn't come naturally to me.

I tried to turn off the regimented parts of my brain but continued to play very little and ask “was that okay?” after every piece.  When the responses were “whatever that is you’re doing, it works!  Just play whatever you feel like!” I realized that I should stop thinking about what I think they want to hear, and start playing what I think would sound good at that moment in time.  And then LET GO, what a concept.  So I played some improvised lines on a Phrygian scale for the dancer whose snake was in fact live.  I threw in a couple Balkan songs I learned from my roommate.  I added color in other places by using my ear and playing what I felt, and it felt great.  What a concept.

This is me making eye contact

Then I was invited by my friend Aaron at work to sit in with his gypsy jazz group, Trio Gadjo.  I expressed that I needed to work on improvisation and Aaron said "well you just have to do it.  The first time you improvise you'll totally suck. But then the next time you won't suck as bad, and then you'll be mediocre, etc."  He sent me some charts that I promptly put off looking at because I knew I was going to have to transpose(!) and memorize(!) them.  I finally committed to a specific date to go play so I had a deadline to aim for.   
I learned a handful of tunes, found some recordings, and practiced along with the accompaniment on my new Real Book app.  I arrived at the Ritual Tavern alone feeling kind of prepared, kind of memorized and kind of confident.  Definitely not totally ready.  Aaron called me up right away and I didn’t decline when they offered me a music stand.  It felt a little less scary to have the charts in front of me (especially to remind me of the chord progressions) but I knew the tunes enough look up and make eye contact with the guys.  Gypsy jazz is intimidating to me because the melodies are fairly short and then it's all about soloing.  But man it was fun and what a great group to play with!  Turns out "not totally ready" is still better than not playing at all.  I went back a second night and even forgot to bring my charts, but I did just fine.  What a great experience for me to play new tunes with new people and just put myself it out there.  Jamming really is a muscle that needs to be exercised.

Goofing around with Debbi and Richard at the Turquoise

Then I had the opportunity to jam with two of my favorite musicians, singer Debbi Ebert and pianist/saxophonist Richard Abraham.  These two are the most talented and versatile cats I know, and they also happen to be my aunt and uncle.  Every time we go see them perform somewhere they ask "did you bring your axe??" and I never did because I was too afraid to sit in.  Well I've been stretching that jamming muscle and decided it was a great opportunity for more exercise.  Even my sister jumped up to sing and we jammed on one of our Schmitz Sister favs, "It Don't Mean a Thing."  We played one or two more and I sounded alright and had fun.  My uncle taught me how to signal to the accompanist what key you want without shouting: you hold a number of fingers pointing up for sharps or down for flats (2 fingers up for D, 3 fingers down for Eb, etc). What a fun family jam.

It sounds like the lessons here are to keep practicing, playing, doing, creating, putting yourself out there as much as possible.  That's the only way it gets easier.  You'll never be totally ready.  Let go and don't be held back by expectations of perfection.  It's too hard to take a first step if you're afraid that you won't be good, especially because you definitely won't be good.  But then you will be.  And no matter what, it's so much fun in the process.

Final Reflections

My trip was coming to an end and with lots remaining on the to-do list, the fact that I know I will return some time soon made everything feel a little less pressured. I decided to spend my last full day doing the thing I had done the least: relax at the beach all day and swim in the clear water. It was I think the best use of my time so far!

This last week I got to hear some cool samba in a refurbished mansion Clube dos Democráticos in Lapa with former colleague now traveler Kieran Cusack. I had a great chat with Phil Galinsky from Samba New York while we dined at a Lebanese restaurant in Copacabana! Some of the best sfeeha, zaatar, taboulli, kibbe after my mom's plus llive doumbek and belly dance - slight detour from local culture but I was at home.

I had a great drum shopping experience at Casa Oliveira and pledged to dedicate myself to the caixa by purchasing my own. Got to drum with Bangalafumenga again, this time in a concert along with their band plus special guest Milton Nascimento! I loved hearing the band live after their CD had provided the majority of my personal soundtrack leading up to my trip. Seeing Milton up close was awesome.

More choro at an outdoor market with a very nice group Pixin Bodega. I hung out and jammed with the guitarist later to some of his original songs. I shopped at the Hippie Market in Ipanema with Pauline Serrano and heard samba stories from Portland including her rad all-girl group Samba Gata. Then I finally got to meet Paul whose family I knew as a kid and whose room I first stayed in here.

I love this place. And what a great trip filled with great people, lots of playing opportunities, constant music everywhere, a few tears but a lot of learning, and a lot of cerveja gelada. Oh, and arroz, feijao, couve, moqueca, coxinha, aipim, frango a passarinho, pão de queijo, agua de coco, suco de abacaxi com hortelã, and queijo coalho. Já tenho saudades.

I'm glad to have experienced a once in a lifetime experience of the spectacle and folia in Rio but it was exhausting. Without a regular schedule and plenty of what Rebecca calls FOMO (fear of missing out) I didn't get much sleep. The rooster outside my window that sounded like the yellow guy from Angry Birds didn't help either. I had a blast but I also look forward to returning at a time when there are fewer tourists and more opportunities for music.

The returning part is still vague. I would like to come back in the next year and stay for six months or so. I was hoping for some inspiration on this trip in terms of future possibilities. I was pretty much bombarded by inspiration but it's still just chaos in my head waiting to be sorted out in its own time. If anything on this trip, I became more familiar with the city and made friends which is more important than anything. It feels more like a real place and a home I could go back to for a while.

I've been feeling so much gratitude for the opportunity of this trip and the people who helped me along the way. I knew a great deal of vocab from singing Brazilian songs with my friend and Portuguese teacher Claudia. I received lots of encouraging emails and facebook posts from friends, especially my Mom and Kristin and Sylvie. I got to video skype with my family and Ryan and they all showed up wearing carnaval masks. My Carioca friend Leo and his dad drove all the way to the airport both times. My colleagues at work took care of so much in my absence. I'm grateful for my Brazil camp friends who were happy to meet up and share information. I'm grateful to you who read my blog and shared your thoughts and stories. I'm grateful for a safe trip with nothing lost or stolen and, except for a few hundred mosquito bites, I never got hurt or sick. Most of all I am grateful for my poor f'ing flat feet who stayed with me through blisters, mosquitos, cobblestones, standing, and dancing throughout this adventure.

On the drive to the airport, there it was, the Cristo Redentor up on the hill, reminding me that eu vou voltar.

Navigating language: Não means não

I love this place, and I love navigating a new city and culture. I remember how frustrating it was in Bordeaux trying to survive, find an apartment, make friends, all in another language. It felt the same here all over again:

Me: "ah que fofo"
Them: "como?"
Me: "fofu? fahfo? FOHfoh? Fawfu?"
Them: "Oh, you mean 'fofo.'"
Me: "what did I say?"

As soon as you realize that you can communicate enough to have food, shelter, safety, and a bathroom, the rest just becomes a game. Lucky for me I am an expert at Catch Phrase and Charades. The best was when the person spoke no English because I was forced to practice and they were forced to have patience with me. At the drugstore:

"Excuse me sir, do you speak English? No? Ok here we go. I am wearing shoes. My feet are hot. Sometimes my feet are wet. Can you please help me with my wet feet?"

He found me some foot powder.

At the rehearsal:

"it's like a little box and when you play, the box tells you if you need to adjust your instrument."

Someone found me a tuner.

Pantomiming a request for a straw at the bar later got a funnier reaction.

At most of the corner places, ordering a tasty coxinha or pão de queijo and juice was a treat but a challenge. They didn't want to play along as much and I think they upped their accents on purpose so I wouldn't understand. They have like ten different ways to ask "for here or to go" just to catch you off guard. "Pra levar? Pra comer? Pra viajar? Pra agora? Pra aqui? Pra ai?" Then you don't pay until after you eat but they won't remember what you had, so you have to stumble through your order again to the same blank stare. In the end you are drinking fresh squeezed guava juice so who cares?

Did you know as Sylvie pointed out that when the door says "empurrer" it means "push" which is fine. But when it says "puxe" pronounced "pooshy" it means pull? Gets me very time. And when speaking a mix of Portugese and English in a potential romantic situation don't forget that "nao" sounds like "now."

It feels somehow like the stakes aren't as high, like I wasn't as stressed about making a mistake as I was in France. One reason is that I find the Brazilians more willing to play along than the French but I also think I've changed a bit since then. Both times have been just as rewarding to unlock a culture through navigating its language. But I also remember how special it is to get to a place in the language where you can have conversations you treasure. My 83 year old cavaco player friend explained that the choro "Ginga do Mane" is about a famous futebol player and his moves. At the next rehearsal he had printed out the story for me. Love this place.

Chorinho = Little cry

My last night was a challenge and had me ending my trip the way it started, with some frustration and a few tears. Thanks to the suggestion of my Brazil Camp clarinet buddy Annie and help from Rebecca and Dennis I was able to get in touch with accomplished clarinetist Paulo Sergio Santos. He didn't have time for a lesson but invited me to the bar Semente in Lapa to see his son's group play choro and to join in.

All of the choro musicians I've encountered in Rio have been really good, but this was a different ball game. It wasn't a roda or an open group playing publicly, it was more of a concert in front of an attentive audience. These cats were pros and I was mesmerized. They weren't reading charts and were barely even looking at each other but somehow still communicating intensely. Paulo Sergio got up and wailed effortlessly on some tunes to the cheering crowd. Then it was my turn. I walked to the stage and set up my big gringo binder on a flimsy music sand and adjusted the mic which resulted in a bunch of feedback. They asked what few songs I wanted to play and my words came out in French. Well at least I know the French is still in there. I played with energy, was able to communicate little intros and outros, took turns, and played a couple of ok solos. But I didn't play cleanly or with enough confidence, and the more I tried to tear my face from the book and make eye contact, the more mistakes I made. I felt out of place and felt that I had embarrassed myself. Paulo Sergio took a risk inviting me to play not having heard me and I didn't want to let him down. I spent the rest of the evening doubting my abilities as a musician and questioning what I'm doing here.

Maybe it sounds like a dramatic reaction, but this was also at the end of my trip and height of my exhaustion. Near the end of the night I looked out the window right up into the Arcos da Lapa and reminded myself to get present again and remember where I am, in Rio listening to some incredible music. I don't need to have all the answers figured out yet. It's been a busy trip and I've jumped out of my comfort zone into a lot of great learning opportunities in a new language. I decided I need to pat myself on the back for putting myself out there with an open heart. And this evening was also a wake up call reminder of what I need to work on musically when I get home. The last song they played was 'Receita de Samba' and I got up and danced.