Recovery of my list, And Happy New Year!

Dear friends,

I have finally been able to recover a large part of my old email list. I believe most of you might know I was gone for so long because I was severely sick the past few months.

For those who did not know that… in brief..while in Asia I was forced into a coma after having a non stop epileptic crisis.

I was about to go to Burma but then I  had a major fit just in front of the Burmese Embassy, where  there was luckily a Hospital.

I was accompanied by Edu and was kept in an Hospital in Thailand for a while till my parents came to rescue me.

Since my fits never stopped it was decided I should be induced into a coma since the non continuation of seizers could harm my brain. I naturally do not remember not of that.

I was in a total different world while this was taking place. I lived real battles, where death was  strangely not a disaster, nor a sweet thing but a simple option. It still took a while for us to return to Brazil my parents and Edu and I.  It took that long because we needed the permission of the hospital to be allowed in an airplane

I was truly in another planet. And it is taking a lot of me  to fully recover. Luckily now I recognise all the people, and able to write full sentences and not need anymore someone to take care of me.

I have been working really hard on recovering. Now it is becoming more natural again. I have been maintaining my two blogs. In english

And in Portuguese

I do not write exactly the same things in both.. As it would be incredibly boring to do that… even when I was healthy that was the case.

But I started writing as anexercise to observe my own brain. It was Getulio Dare Rabello who had suggested.

Thank god, the scientists and the enormous amount of love I have received my brain is doing much much much much better.

Soon I will be free of most of my medications. Soon I hope I will eat less and go back to my usual life.

Thank you to all of you  who wrote me, who came here, and if I have not replied… believe me… it is only now that I actually am being able to see how much love for so many places in the world I have received… and how much I should write back! Happy New Year!

Lots of love and a Happy New Yearfrom Brazil,


ps: if you want to be added in my english list let me know..just as if you  s know to receive emails as well

Wanderings of a full moon Night…

I ride on a bus. It is usually faster to go some places in place by buses than by car. No traffic in the lanes destined to buses and taxis. In any case I could not drive anyway. I actually take joy to walk places. Sao Paulo was never a place I walked before. I usually drove.

Cre, my childhood nanny is next to me. The moon is almost full in the sky. I look around delighted looking at the sky. I have just been to Aquiles, my psychologist and it was a great section.  I had the chance to have my childhood nanny who took care of me since I was a baby till I was 6 talk to  talk to Aquiles. Cre could  tell my psychologist how was the beginning of my life. I listened it all, sometimes with tears in my eyes. I must say I do not remember almost anything of my childhood. But as she spoke I did. It did really feel like like a gift.

We take the bus home I look around  and the whole country seems to be decorating for Christmas. Though the country is secular, most people are christians here.  Actually most people are believers, of all kinds of beliefs mixed together. I live in In a neighbourhood where there is a large Jewish community.

Though Brazilians like to praise our miscegenation, most people in this neighbourhood are Europeansor or Sirian-Lebanese descendants.  The African descendant people you ever see are usually workers , such as drivers, nannies, cooks, and waiters in the nice restaurants around here. I of course do agree  there are more mixed people here than in other places of South America.

In a brief and poor explanation of Brasil. Brazil was colonised by Portugal at a time when Spain and Portugal dominated the world. Aside from Brasil, the two Guyanas and Suriname, all other countries in South America speak Spanish. That is why it is very difficult and funny to be asked to answer which “race” we are from in American forms. I always put  homus sapiens or human. Since  in Brazil we are never really asked these questions.. and In America there was no option where I felt i could be in. Being usually told to say I was Hispanic, I often explained we spoke portuguese and not Spanish. In any case, Brazilians, did always feel that form was just stupid.

Maybe it is because we put so little attention to our origins that we feel that there is little prejudice here. That is somehow a complex topic, and to talk about it I would need a lot of time.

Slavery was finished in several steps being finally abolished in 1888. I am no specialist in this, but I learned in schools and through reading and talks that when slavery was abolished ( officially though we all know there is still slavery around in the world) there was a shortness of workers which led to an opening of Brazil for immigration.

Since farmers had never been able to slave indigenous peoples before, they called  the new immigrants. Promising a d new world, delivering hard labour.   There is evidence that it was a true holocaust of indigenous peoples in the continent.  I believe the first immigration  after the Portuguese were the Italians who came searching fora new life in the new world.

Later on came  the Japanese, and in the  end  of the first war  Sirian-Lebanese people who came still using their Ottoman passports. Ironically in Brazil, they sometimes call themselves Turcos…. Though they precisely know they are Arabs… Here in Brazil, I think most people do not really think about that. Then in the second war came loads of Jews, and Germans.

Paulistanos, people who are born in the city of Sao Paulo ( Sao Paulo is a state and city) like to call Sao Paulo a Cosmopolitan city. When I saw my friend my Caue who just came from Beijing  we had a long conversation about what it ” what made us go.?”

I feel that while we are away we are so entertained with the other that when it reaches you it is time to move.. so us people of the world once we cross so many borders, it is just so difficult to stay. And so as we talk I wonder. About these courageous immigrants who came from their old world in this ships to a new one, having no idea of the trip, of the place, and definitely of a return.

So as I sat yesterday with these friends who have lived or traveled many places I did and we could talk about the profoundness of life, the difficulty to come back to a world that in your mind seems too mysterious, where you are not even able to eat in the same way, or where you just don’t care for the small details of those who went out for too little or not at all. So when we met it was all still that world were we floated from shamanism, politics, countries and philosophy for hours. Floated in the world were people who live the real world never usually go.

Than as I sat in the bus last night and as I looked the moon  I thought  of the cities I lived in Sao Paulo, London and New York  and realised they are not cosmopolitan in the same way at all. I guess if we define what we even mean by cosmopolitan.. and I guess if we take a very loose explanation such as “a city where there are many people who were not born there living and who are still preserving some of their original culture” then we could put so many others. And yet those cities we always will feel not containing the world.

I like being in Sao Paulo because I feel protected by it, by my friends and my family and definitely by my Dr Getulio, Aquiles and Dona Euthimia.

But when I sat with Gustavo and Caue who are people who lived in many places and now live very different lives I am intrigued.  While one is married with a child and though is still reading and engaging with the outside world is now settled .The other cant just stay, he arrived arrived last month and now cant wait to go back to Asia.

And as I open my email and sea Mark is going back to London to finish the PhD, while I know Maria now quit it and has a baby and will be married in Greece soon, and Chi and Aidan are in the road, while I see how much my friend Leila in Morocco and Lebanon has writer and prayed for me… I feel my heart overflow with love. The moon will be full tonight.. whatever I ll do, I know it will be good.

Love, from Sao Paulo

The End of the Year, the end of me and a Party…

VovóI sat with my grandmother yesterday to write in English, now I am trapped between these worlds. The world where I come from where some people do not speak English, and  the millions worlds I can only access in English because I do not know their own languages. I  never feel like writing the same texts in both languages, nor do I feel like talking about how sick we  my grandmother and I have been in the past months.

I wrote last night a whole post in English while I waited for the skype call of someone. My post was cute, informing of all little intricacies I perceive here. Then I finished my text, my conversations with the my grandmother and somehow mysteriously my whole post was lost…It was like the whole world felt like all was closing down and that I should just walk in another rode. Suddenly I decided it was not the day to write…I should just do something else something that would remind me of who I am…and to let write later.

I live with my grandmother in an old neighbour, I ask her about old neighborhoods here in our CIty Sao Paulo. She told me there were many that were old: Such as Bras , Campus Elisius and not surprisingly  the central part of Sao Paulo. Many times she even showed me places where there used to be a river and no longer has anymore.

She loves this city, and is always saying she prefers the pollution to the air of the country side. I praise the old,  she prays for scientists and admires inventions that according to her make the world better. As I  said I am interested in  the old and want to hear shamans and traditional  Chinese medicine and my grandma though she believes anything is theoretically possible she prefers the new. As I am asking all these questions she puts her book down  and says very seriously. Since you are not a specialist on these you should google it. They know better than me.

My grandmother is 89, she has just had an heart operation. As she came home she went to bed and in the following morning when she was asked whether she wanted coffee or tea she replied she wanted a cold beer.  My grandmother follows all recommendations of doctors but also her own ideas, she also learned languages and as a child she had classes of gym in her own house and piano which she hated it.  Her father was also an admirer of the future. My grandmother has always been very popular with her friends… so now having  finally the permission of the doctors for it all she planned a trip for New year’s eve with her friends. Like the following years  there are 6 friends in their eighties on the road to celebrate.

It was my grandmother who insisted I should go out for new year s eve somewhere. In Brazil, New years eve is in Summer. Many of us dress in white ( for peace according to popular knowledge) and then we try to go to the coast, and by midnight we should jump 7 waves for good luck. Many people make offerings to Iemanjá. One  the of “Mae de Santo’s” of Candonblé.

In these syncretist religions brought from  Africa, and mixed to Christianity such as Candomblé there are many figures which are like goddesses and gods who are not ever good nor bad. Very much like greek gods these “mae de santos”, and “pais de santos” carry power and human personalities. Good and Bad is a consequence of your relation with that figure.   So when you go to the beach to sea fireworks, we  sea offerings in the beach and in the  sea. We all avoid stepping in anything. Atheist or not most Brazilians are afraid to step in these offerings.

My parents did not want me to go anywhere, but they do not enjoy new years eve as much of all of us do. But luckily  Doutor Getulio told me I should go. So we prepare ourselves, we are going to our beach house house by the coast of the state of Sao Paulo. Initially, in another life time, when I had planned being in these house with 8 people. Now the world collapsed and like my message I never heard nor these new years eve is what I wanted.

So we decided to invite people we love to celebrate life. There is apparently a saying in Brazil that when all goes wrong what one should do  a party. So that is what we prepare for: we prepare now  for a party not sure whether we are hosting 5 people or 17 in the house…..  we do not care, my cousin and me, Like in Colombia I hope we will be able to celebrate “In shallah”

Love from Sao Paulo

The link to my last post… hope it works :)

I flow in words. It is hard to write, but I try it because Doctor Getullio , my neurologist, realises it might be a good way to see what has happened to me . The truth is that it is not really that in the minds of those who reach the organic collapses, what I think, so we do all exams all over the place, and I don’t even mind them actually anymore. In the past they were my greatest nightmares. I don’t even mind so much exams, and the unabated hunger that reaches  me everyday. I do it all. I simply imagined he knows, and might have finally realised how  much I have always lived deeply in the symbolic world, through words, through so much that the pragmatic people  feel it is not that important now.

So, suddenly  even the most pragmatic people had to realise what had affected me leading to a sequence of weird diseases  with no final diagnosis were led by my own despair in my mind.

It was in 2007  that l had my first epileptic attack. It was in the middle of the night and I was in a friends house. I had travelled Morocco first with Haiko my ex,  and  with Adriana, but they had to go home and  I decided to follow the trip on my own. Eventually  encountering Leila who is a brilliant photographer and has worked in borders… I had been in that crazy border when you cross a door remain into African continent to the fictional Europe of Ceuta. I felt a certain puzzlement then and I returned to Morocco the following day. I travelled on my own following Ramadan , and the villages I was recommended, taking rides, trains, and buses. I did never feel threatened as respect. Though all restaurants were open for tourists.

Then I returned eventually to Marrakech to stay longer with Mounia. I loved my stay with Mounia how friendly and carrying were their family with each other. A certain night as I was about to sleep, I felt like a shock. I did not want to call help though when I woke up I was very confused. Now I know I had an epileptic attack then, that day on my own I was confused and let it be.

On my own, not knowing what had triggered, and not wanting to call for help from my dear friend Mounia. I remained a few more days till I flew back to the UK.  To me, very soon I started to realise that these triggers seem to have happened every single time when I felt an  enormous sense of vulnerability. And the scary part is that every single time, it feels more dangerous. And so I write, open my soul, to how these collapses feel,  it is almost  like a desire, a plea for survival as what I am: simply very fragile in these world.  It scares me that it seems almost like a non-conscious plea for care in my own terms…

So I write and apologise right now for how poorly these lines are put down. In fact I guess I have this strange mind where it is not so much interested in perfection but rather in breaching of the separation of beings. I will talk about this one day. These basis of oneness and the others. Categories are in the depth of my interest. My studies have gone through science, the brain, the psychological aspects of  peoples minds, cultures and the mysticism.. so, stimulated  by Dr. Getulio I seat to write once more about it, it felt great, then very difficult, though I knew it would have been very hard.

It is hard after it means with oneself observing itself. The technique of Dra Euthimia, my psychiatrist  reminded me is part of the practice of Mindfulness (and yoga meditation technique), felt like a good thing  to do. Though meditating with no obligation to report to the other (nor oneself) is way easier. There we are back to complication of existing in the world, the explanation to the world.  So let me tell you it is hard for me to read, to see films and hold all the basic activities. It is now much better to be slow.. and rest. but I ll write more.

In the past I flew through these words, really hallucinating most of the time and in silence, till one day I wrote in portuguese, for some reason it felt easier to write it in English but I knew I should attempt to connect to the world where I came from, that would have been what Aquiles, my psychologist would have said. Then I felt my own words were telling me different things, like another person editing me, or criticism that were being written by my brother. A gentle world but out of place. Then I did understand that the process of thought was fast and that my brain is still inflamed and until I am still having Cortisone I would be eating more, looking swollen  and having strange thoughts… oh wow now I felt relieved.

I have a few blogs and one of them is called, which means decolonizing the mind. It is called that way as an homage to all that I had learned from my friend, professor and ex-boss Mustapha Masrour. I am so thankful to Mustapha that it is not possible for me to put it into words now… I will make sure to write it more about it in time.  Though I must say that I did decolonize my mind and became more aware of the prejudices I was born into… I therefore also realised that total  de-affiliation brings with itself a certain total loneliness, or a new very strong affiliation to a very strong conviction to a new faith. I am in an interesting time now wondering into how to travel my mind rather than to colonise it.

It makes me laugh here realising I am trapped by languages…. I must reconnect to where I come from, but I never want to leave the world that I connected to, a world of beauty and difference, buta world that always opened arms to my never ending internal loneliness. I would like to point out that as I write this text I felt I had not written that sentence. The words where ”  buta world that always opened arms to my never ending internal ”

I  was first furious, feeling like someone else was editing my blog. Now however I am even capable to accept that my own brain might have realised  that there it is an inhabitant loneliness and that what I attribute to my brother might be one more strange progress of my myself. As I say my brain is doing much better.

So, I seat here in a process of gentle recovering. I go to several doctors. I am medicated. I have strange feelings but when it is all good I can tell a whole story and the thought starts in the centre and then flies to the right. It feels like a river in the amazon going to the right like most western languages seem to do.

The strange thing I have is that times my whole head turns to the the left…. like if I were looking back to search for my past.  If feels it is all very far away, like in some desert where all that I have is lost now. The words, the memories, all there and I want to reach it. And inevitably these times I feel languages feels like it wants to run even more back  to reach to the left, though more and morel I just feel the desire to come to the present walking back to the right to, the present, leaving behind what happened in the hospital in Asia and searching for the present. Looking for the present.  

Put it simply the thought mainly always appears in the the present. Sometimes I look back. I have a desire to go even more backwards to reach something far. I try to do it less since I noticed (or when it started….). Most of the time I turn and I can speak and feel language like it is in the western, like  people  seem to do  language go to the  right  in these places.

I don’t think I ever started from the left. It feels like it is a progress, like  in an  middle  eastern  language that  goes from where it starts to the left.. This is so complex, too hard, in an confused mind. I hope you get something 🙂

Being that all that we know about  the mind is very temptative…  and I must say  though I have no desire, nor capability of debating these patterns of learning languages  or the mind and definitely especially now I also  know I should put effort as it might happened to help.

I started so long ago searching for meaning, and I was so cared for through these diseases I was examined in painful ways, lost so much of my ability to be my own person but I did every time struggled to search for more, was every single time I was taken care of. I loved and was loved all the time, and yet I always felt I was lonely.

I did it so many times. There are no regrets. I was always met with gentleness because you encounter  what you expressed was always kindness. And as I guess I always feared more my own own loneliness I met the stranger in its real place, with the other.

But I laugh as I remember about the Brazilian Joy, I remember, once upon a time I had written about it. How it felt that in Brazil happiness joy was the less refugee against the oppressions, people simply went out and danced not letting their minds being inffected.

So, though feels like it is the best way out, and I am reminded that I had once written about how in arriving arrived in Brazil that I felt the joy all over the place and that eventually I thought it felt joy was like the last form of resistance

So I seat here, in my grandmothers s house, who also is recovering. I do the basic recovering process and we laugh seeing Michael Pailin going around the world. It is not total joy as we are all recovering, she   is 89 and I have crazy diseases but we laugh.So even little things like writing this whole mail with basic no help feel great… a few weeks ago I knew not some people.

I realised only many of you might even know what I am talking about. Too late now…. The fast section 🙂 II have been severely sick 3 times. I almost died… And the case I did not it is because I was with Edu and who  took care of me …We were about to go to Burma and I was caught up in a series of Epileptic attacks, I was then induced into in a forced coma for a while. Once I woke up I could not  even know anyone not even my parents who had flown to Thailand. I felt most of the time in a another reality.  I ha felt I was constantly being poisoned.  Ir attempted to be be kidnaped, all of these happened in september. More precisely I  arrived in Brasil the 20 an of September having left Brazil in end of of April.  Once I arrived I could not still could not really  recognise peopleIt…..

I visit great doctors: Dr. Getulio, neurologist,  Dr. Aquiles,psychologist

For Mounia Paintings:

For Leila Photos: