I am again inside of a boat. This time I am going to Belem. There is so much I have learned in the other boat. That time I spent 8 days in the river Solimoes. That boat was destined to go to the triple frontier. So I was briefly in Colombia.

I flew back to Manaus, and ironically I could see more of the amazon from a plane than from inside of the Amazon itself. I guess we can always see better things from a distance :).

My first boat was a boat that carried goods. It was huge, there I met Mr. Manuel who taught me so much. Not only he was 70 and his whole family were boat people, but he had also taken J. Cousteau in the eighties through the amazon.

He taught me about the trees in the Amazon, the rivers, the people, his life and he even told me that BR 174, the road that links Manaus to Venezuela was built by the Brazilian army which was composed by many indigenous people. In this construction part of two indigenous groups, the Waimiri and the Atroari were killed.

There is so much that I have learned there that I thought this boat here (where I am in now) was kind of boring. The first boat brought it all to those who lived in the small villages of the state of Amazonas. Those villages are basically separated from the rest of Brazil. This boat here, where I am in now, goes the other way, it returns to the northeast of Brazil. It is a boat mainly destined to the transportation of people. Apparently, when it returns to manaus it also brings goods back.

Of course, my dislike of this boat was entirely deconstructed by the fact that next to me is a Cuban who had escaped his country and had an amazing story to tell about his life. To my other side is a man who works for Belo Monte, the huge hydroelectric that is being built here.

I hate Belo Monte for all that it represents, the destruction of the Amazon, its animals and its indigenous peoples. But I kept quiet as I heard the tale of a man who can’t find a job anywhere else.

I heard in details what Altamira was like. He called it “an eldorado”. A world in itself. Brazilians are so opened in explaining how their marriages have collapsed, how much they look for a new family that I could write several books by now.

Sometimes I feel they are very lonely and that they do not have who to tell these stories to. So, I hear quietly the tale of a man who was abandoned by his wife, and who now searches a new life in Belo Monte.

To the other side there are evangelic women who have been to Israel in a religious trip. They are kind, and have taught me a lot about the bible.

I go up to meet my captain. He is friendly, young an beautiful. We are in the Rio Amazonas. First I miss mr. Manuel who was so knowledgeable. Only till I go down to go out in our first stop. There are not that many things to deliver, nor anyone leaving the boat. But I go down anyway to buy fruits.

My new captain comes down and explains me a lot of things. He offers me Biju a cracker made of some kind of cassava, and nuts that is typical from here. I find it nice since it is quite salty.

Then I make a new young friend. She is 18 and and she has a two year old daughter. Her own mom is in the boat and is pregnant of her 4th husband. I understand everyday a little more how sexuality is active in this part of Brazil. I also understand how much the evangelic church is growing.

The boat stops again. Now there are nuts coming in. I go down to observe. The “policia Federal” is there. I watch for a while and eventually go up to a policemen to ask him why are they here for.

This beautiful policemen, is polite, and explains to me that through the rio amazonas comes lots of drugs. I ask him where is it that cocaine is produced. He tells me it is inside of peoples houses.

And so I meat Mr. Antonio. He is older and used to be the captain of this boat. He is about to retire. He explains loads of things. For instance, that the factories are in the middle of the amazon. He tells me so much in details. He is also part of the evangelic church. He reminds me of Mr. Manuel.

I write little because lately I live more. There is so much to tell but I guess now is time to eat. I already like this new boat.

I can’t forget to tell one thing. I met a 54 year old man who is going to Santarem to put the ashes of his wife there.

She died when she was 47. She had Lupus. He explains to me that this was her last wish. He tells me about his whole life , how it had been to have been married to a woman that had an autoimmune disease. How many years he had passed time going to hospitals. I am so moved hearing him speak. I recollect myself and ask.

“Had you known she would get sick would you have not married her?”

He knows I had been sick and is not offended by my question. He looks at me and says

“Of course not. I knew very early on she was sick. I have been with her through it all. I would not have changed anything at all. I miss her every single day. I do not regret a single moment. I love her.”

4th day.

We woke up in Sao José do Amparo. Last night I felt really cold, it rained a lot, and during the night there was a lot of wind coming inside of the boat.

I slept in pants, socks, long sleeves, scarves and a rain jacket.

Yesterday it was actually quite interesting but I ll tell first the beginning of today. I was told this little village where we stopped was very intriguing. They were a sect.

Since we had 2 hours there for the delivery of goods I went up.

Literally up since you actually have to climb stairs to reach this little village. It was 5 am and from the boat I could see the population coming to buy goods. I asked from the people whether I could see the village. They told me I could. I went up, people of all ages sat in front of the church. It had a huge name.

Associação missao ordem cruzada catolica apostolica evangelica- templo de deus vivo

There were many people sitting in front of the church, they were dressed in white clothes. I asked whether I could go in. They told me I could. Men in the boat, huge men were shocked I entered that church. I asked about the church to the people and they told me to talk to the priest. And so they took me to his house.

I said hello to the priest and told him I would like to know about his church. I was honest and told him I was curious.

He was a man of few words. The village was particularly different. I asked him

“How is this church ?”

“Like others.”

“I am honestly curious. It is not common to see a church that is at the same time catholic and evangelic.”

“It is the same.”

“Which book do you use?”

“The bible.”

“Do you have baptism?”

“Yes in the river when they are 11 or 12”

“Oh, so when they are born nothing really happens?”

“Yes. Circumcision.”

I was so fascinated. It seemed judaism, catholicism and evangelism together.

“How about the symbols?”

“The eye means we are being watched. The hand is peace. The book is the bible.”

I realised he would not tell me anything else. I had understood enough. The most I could understand in such a small time.

A little girl came up with us to the boat. She was the strangest girl I have eve met. She looked the whole time to Martin, the Uruguayan who was travelling with me.

The words of a new friend that lives in Boa Vista came to my mind.

“This area is a strange place. It is quite common for fathers to have sexual relationships with their daughters.”

Though he studied in the same school I have studied in Sao paulo, a french school, I thought he was exaggerating.

Only till I had a conversation with the little girl. She was also a secretive girl. She said few words, and simply because I asked questions. I have met children all over the world. Some of these children were badly treated, others were very well treated. It was the same in this boat. They all fell in the category of normality. This girl was so different.

She was 12. Responded almost without words. She was moving to live with her uncle. She was informed about it that day. Because I asked her, she said she was happy. I did not believe. I tried soo hard to talk to her and she simply barely spoke. She simply asked me whether my Uruguayan companion was my brother. The way she said it, made me certain she was abused.

I went to Angelica, the lady who became my friend and who works in the boat to ask about it. I was expecting her to say I was wrong. But she said.

“I want to become a lawyer to defend all women who have been abused. It is common in Amazonas for men to take the virginity of their
daughter. In Manaus they would put the men in prison, they would beat them up, but here it is common. If she is moving to live with her uncle it is much worse.”

I am now in Tabatinga. My internet connection is poor. I will write about what it was like to be in a boat for 8 days. I saw millions of things, I experienced a thousand of emotions. I love the boat,I made friends, my captain Mr Manuel is a kind man. He is evangelic so we obviously disagreed in thousands of things. But as usual I was protected, and learned a million of things. I’ ll write more from Manaus. The place I have friends, and have learned to miss.

Day 1

We start our journey. I have quite soon no internet. I talk to the people.

Then it is so hot. Yet since the boat starts moving the air cools you down when you are looking the river.

Quite soon we see the merging of solimões river and Negro river. This is called the encontros das aguas, “the encounters of the waters.”

It is very known because you can see quiet clearly when it happens since the waters do not seem to mix. They look like two different things.

And the boat keeps floating and now I come dow where there are two things. A little restaurant open all the time where one can buy little things and a football court 🙂

The music are classics from Samba and carnival. While the attendant fixes christmas decoration I hear huge noise of construction. I go to the lady and ask “what are they doing?”

“Oh they are fixing the net to be able to play.”

I laugh. Thinking it is done so that the ball does not fall in the river. I am amazed by the amount of work people do to play football here in the boat.

It is actually hilarious to see all these men working on this. Heavy equipment. Burning, knocking, crouching all of this in this heat for football.

My mind is sarcastic so I obviously think that if they used that energy home, in their work the gdp and the happiness in their houses would probably really go up.

They are still not done. Oh well I will go back to look at the trees. They are closer to my right side.

The samba still plays. And I will stop now. Soon there will be dinner. That will be really a surprise 🙂

They still build, the boll roles discretely on the floor and the samba plays. Soon there will be the sunset.

I am happy 🙂

Later I go up to speak to Mr. Manuel.

He is the man who conduces this enormous boat. He is 70. We spoke from sunset till night. I learned so much.

For instance I learned he came from
a family of boat people, those who did not own one at least new how to ?ride? them 🙂 His father built them.

I told him my grandmother was very concerned about me taking this boat since boats sometimes sunk. And so he explained to me the following.

The water is in a great level. There is more water than there usually is for this time of the year. He pointed at the river side where I could see land carved, on top of it were trees.

“Later in the year the river goes up because of the Andes, so all that you see of this carved land will be under water. In order to save fuel captains ride close to the shore. In that way they avoid the current that is coming from Tabatinga. If they are not attentive they might hit the shore and that is when they sink.”

We ride in the middle. The river is not that close. And our captain, Manuel, has done this his whole life. He asks me about Buddhism. Tells me he is religious but respect all beliefs. He tells me I should call my grandmother to tell her.

” Is there signal?”

“Yes, sometimes in the day for calling.”

It is night and I already love this boat. Mr. Manuel is gentle, is a religious men, he explains me all about currents, river, and tells me he has lived his life around boats.

“The best work I have done was with doctors. I was part of the health system bringing help to those who could not have access to medicine in remote villages. That felt wonderful. We were really helpful to those people. Since I am older they let me go, I could not leave the see so I came back to this industry. As a form of transportation it is rarely used. There are hammocks for those who enjoy to see this life, and the workers. We pay the fuel by the transport of goods. Tell your grandmother this is a new boat.”

I attempt to call but it is too late. In Sao paulo it is two hours later. I go to sleep.

Tomorrow I ll tell about today. Sometimes we have signal 🙂 It is enough to say that I slept almost 11 hours. I only woke up because they called us for breakfast.

It gets cool in the evening, it is wonderful to sleep in a hammock in a boat. So far there is not even any mosquitoes.

Love from the boat to the triple frontier between Brazil, Peru and Colombia.

—-

Now I am in jutai. I ll post only first day. The others I ll do when I have again.

Ps: no time to edit 🙂

I am inside of the boat. I am about to take a 7 day journey inside of the amazon. I am going to Tabatinga. Till two days ago I did not know that place existed. I sit in a hammock. I am surrounded by hammocks where we will sleep.

One day to hate manaus and now I already miss it. And I am still in the port. I made friends here. Raphael and Mayara. I already miss them.

In the way here I talked to the lady who sells tickets for the bus. Here in Brazil, it is not the driver who does it.

We spoke through the traffic. I told her about my trip. She gave me her number and she made me an invitation. I should come back and visit her house. Dear lord, I feel this nostalgic feeling to a place I have yet not left. A enormous desire to return. Drago was right. I had go keep going. Deep down so did I.

I am inside the boat. To one side is kellen a 8 year old new little friend, next to her is her grandmother. I like this boat. I wait for Martin, though not Brazilian he is late. I am happy. The people are welcoming, friendly, helpful.

I probably will not have internet these days. There is electricity so I can keep writing. I’post later.

I look at the grandmother and ask her.

” Will I get tired of the boat?”

“It is a beautiful journey. I am leaving before you. If you do not like you can come out with us.”

” Can I take a boat back to Manaus?”

” Of course you can. And you can see our place first. But I don’t think you will dislike it. Tabatinga is beautiful. So is Leticia.”

She smiles when I say my grandmother is concerned. We take pictures to show her.

I will be gone for a while. You all should know there is always beauty everywhere. Sometimes it takes a little time for your eyes to change. But once they do you know. You remember it all. You hear the laughter, the joy that surrounds you.

I feel myself again. I want to see this world. I had lost that. I feel I am back. And as I knock in the doors of the world, I feel that the gatekeepers were not those unfriendly people that I thought they were.

First you might get hurt and disappointed but if you turn your back away you will never meet the real gatekeepers.

Those, the real ones, will always welcome you. They know you have not given up on the path.

Love from the boat.

It took me a day to hate Delhi, a week to go out of there. One month to love India, and I will take a whole life to learn to be far from there, I even miss Delhi.

It took me one day to hate Manaus. I confronted the upper class that reminded me of Brazilian literature, so many lies all over, so much lack of respect to the other. I thought of going home. Then I remembered no one should consider the first week of a long journey seriously.

I love it here now. Met really nice people. Spent a wonderful day swimming in the Rio Negro. We drove through the roads of Amazonas.

The whole country wondered what would be the result of the election. Raphael, my host, voted and I justified my absence. Then we went to a small beach that is unknown to most people from Manaus.

I met other travellers last night. Suddenly I had tons of possibilities for the path. I remembered India. So much freedom and options that in the end will always lead one to not know what to do.

I saw the sunset here in the Rio Negro. Of course, it brought me joy, happiness and memories of the mekong but I did not want to be there. I was in place. I have actually made friends here.

No idea where I am going now. But I feel I am back.

The zoo made me think a lot about the fact that some animals wanted to escape. Others seemed fine there trapped and cared. I knew I would be the monkey trying to escape.

Since I started this journey s few days ago I realised something I thought was strange. When people asked me where I was going, I responded my plans were free and that all I knew was that I did not want to be back in the state of sao paulo this year.

Naturally, people were surprised by this answer. Actually people acted differently.

Some men and women of all ages would reply. Either they felt that was very scary, dangerous and that they loved their houses, and routine.

While others would actually say they would love to do that.

I knew that those would be natural reactions to my response. I did not actually anticipate so many older women being in my group. Even less some of their answers.

“You are so lucky I would love to do that. My trips have to be small because my 27 year old child cannot deal with me being gone for very long.”

“I guess the life of a mother is to abandon her whole life forever. I love my children and grandchildren but I wish I could just go. The next year is always the next year.”

That actually surprised me a lot. Many men replied they wished they could have their freedom back to simply go. I expected that. But I did not expect that from a grandmother.

Since I started this journey I have had so many different emotions.

Sometimes I felt there was nothing else for me to keep looking for. But of course as the water washes your body in that beautiful river, and you realise the amount of beauty there is, it all stops.

And this exercise to see more things brings you back so many gifts that you do not know anymore where to go first and who you should go with.

We have just had the results of the Brazilian election. Dilma is re-elected.

The speech reflects the feeling of the country. Both candidates speak of reunion. The country has been severely divided. There was so much rage in this election.

She wins because it reflects the desire of the poor. My state the richest of Brazil, Sao Paulo, is unhappy.

I did not vote. I have no right to speak of it. I know so little of this country. Both presidents would lead to harm to someone.

As I bathe in the river I thought of that. I wish that the least harm will come to the weaker. I think of that knowing I am in the Amazon. Who are the weaker? The poor? The indigenous?

I dive and I realise I do not know. All I know now is that I feel very well travelling alone. I feel so deeply that I am not weak, that is why I can even endure the beginning of bad moments, my memory is back so I know one must endure it, because the beauty will always follow it.

Love from Manaus.

I have started to take vitamine B12. I went to see Dr.Getulio to know how I was. He was amazed. He a non believer considered my recovery a miracle. He attributed it to my enormous desire to live. That seemed funny.

So I asked him about vitamine B12. Did it work against mosquitoes? Obviously he asked me why I was asking that. I told him, what I have always told, it is because I want to leave Sao Paulo. He knew that.

Jules, where on earth are you going this time?

Deep breath… he knew I was about to go back to Asia, and also that there was nothing he could say against it.

So I guess, he was surprised that because my family were so concerned that I wanted to return to the place where I almost died I changed my plans.

” The AMAZON!””

“Julieta, I hope you take me also as a friend now. Take B12, but also take the whole B complex. I never understand why you like these places!”

“Getulio it is the most amazing ecosystem on earth! How can you not understand that? Every time they take a new sample more than half of it is of things they do not know! Does B complex work?”

“It is true. It is beautiful. What can I say, I always prefer you are close. But go! Enjoy it. It is beautiful! B complex works!.””

And so for the past weeks I have been planning my trip. Alone, as I have learned that it is better to trust those you have met on the path.

Of course, he asked me when I would return. And I was honest.

“I have no idea. ”

The reality is that I have a vague sketch in my mind. But I am realistic enough to know I know nothing of the north, nor of the northeast of Brasil. I could get tired of the humidity and the heat in a day. I could get sick. I could wish to fly back home anytime.

I know many people get concerned. And I am thankful, but I need to go. Even more importantly I need to discover this country were I was born in and know so little of.

Most people who wonder the world know way better some countries they visit than they know their own. So, I want to know this one a bit better.

Someone told me these days something I always think about. Through the path you hear things and sometimes you don’t understand them fully. Much later you do.

I became buddhist last year. I never speak of that really because I did not plan it, and I consider I know so little of Buddhism. Yet, I had the priviledge to sit in front of HH Dalai Lama, Karmapa and Lingtrul Rinpoche.

Rinpoche explained just before he called me to become Buddhist

“A Lama does not accept anyone to be their followers. When someone comes to a Lama he looks, and he says yes or no. When they say no, it does not mean they dislike the person.”

Tibetans have a very different conception of life. They believe in many lives. They believe in the non existence of self. More importantly they believe once you say yes to someone, all of their actions will be theirs. So they observe and when they say yes they believe that all of their actions will be interconnected.

I don’t believe they say yes to people they feel are perfect, rather to those who are in a path to become better people. I understand that to be better, it is not to be rich, or successful, etc. It means to be more compassionate, more responsible of their actions, more patient.

That day I heard it and was moved by it. Yet I believe it only belonged to Lamas. Suddenly I realised it did not.

I have said Yes to all that has come towards me. I have felt betrayed, abandoned, hurt. Yet, one day I understood I should simply import, care for those who search a better path, a more compassionate path, a more patient one.

I also realised that I had to say no to many things. I realised that saying no was sometimes more compassionate than to say yes. I understood that things had to be differentiated. As they say “to recognise things for what they really are”.

I have kept lots of people aside on that decision. Which does not mean I wish them harm, I simply do not want to be entangled. But ironically this decision never came from selfishness, yet from a deep desire to not contribute to even more negative synapses in the world for the other.

I also understood that there was a great difference between guilt and responsibility.

More profoundly I understood that I was responsible for all that has happened to me. I even lament the fact that I have put my ex-boyfriend in a position that made him be his worse version.

I used to pray to die. Now I pray that if I am ever in his place that I should be stronger, more compassionate. I never imagined that would happen but today I feel compassion towards him. I am sorry I have put so many in so grave emotional state.

Yet I discovered that we are always responsible for whatever that we feel. Abandoning this responsibility, blaming the other is the greatest loss we can endure.

I am sure many of you might get this email and immediately get concerned. Why alone. Where are you going? What are really your plans.

Alone because I need to. I ll start in Manaus, and from there I have no idea. I ll attempt to write from my phone like now. I will attempt to discover what is that unites these people we actually do not know. Maybe on the path I ll rediscover what makes me from here.

with love,

Jules

Little stories move me sometimes way more than serious political events that take place everyday.

So I will refrain from talking about the elections in my country to tell a small story that happened these days when I went for my typical saturday lunch with my grandmother and both the story and the reaction towards it taught me a lot.

It was suddenly summer here! I ordered tea thinking of the people from the desert and Asia that had told me to not drink anything to cold in the heat. And my 90 year old grandmother ordered her caipirinha. ( lemon, ice and either cachaca, vodka or sometimes sake.)

After the natural confusion of bringing alcohol to me and tea to my grandma, I decided to go to the toilet to wash my hands touched by the lemon of her drink.

I went up and I saw a little boy. I did not say anything when I went in, but as I came out, he was still there standing by the stairs.

“What are you doing? Are you hiding?”
I said jokingly

Quietly, he said no.

“Playing.?”

“No.”

I was intrigued and wondering what could he could possibly be doing so quietly and alone in the empty second floor.

“Come on tell me. I am so curious.”

“Ok. I am just here. Not playing, not hiding. I am waiting.”

“Oh. I see, you are waiting for someone who is inside.”

“No. I am waiting to see how long it will take for my mother to notice that I have disappeared. I don’t think she misses me.”

I was so taken aback by these words. He was literally in silence for a long time.

“What is your name?. How old are you ? I think you are 7. And I am sure that your mom thinks either you are in the bathroom or playing. I am 100% certain she is letting you play. Who is she with?”

“Pedro. You are right I am 7. But you are wrong she is with her girlfriend and she forgot I exist.”

I still talked to him for a while. Sweet boy as hell. And went down to look for his mother and her friend.

Found her.

“Excuse me, are one of you Pedro’s mother.?”

“Oh my god, yes did he do something wrong, anything to you?”

“No. He is lovely. But he has been there for a while waiting to see if you have noticed he has disappeared. I would encourage you to go find him and say you have been missing him.”

She was completely taken back by these words, she thanked me, told me she had no idea, and went after him.

I told my grandmother about it, and she said:

“This goes to show how hard it is to be a parent. How much abandonment a little child can feel. And shows why it is not surprising they later become closer to their nannies than to their mothers. Poor boy, poor mother.”

They came to say goodbye when they left.

I told this story to a few people. Some people immediately thought about the child, some others went as far as saying

“Poor mother she also has her own life.”

The capacity to put your own life before a little child’s, one’s child, shocks me.

And so I remembered a phrase I heard these days

“If you want to know about the other, do not focus on how they speak about themselves but rather focus on how they speak about others.”

Little stories teach you profound things about how to react towards the world. In election time or not.

Ps: as I just read this story to my grandma she said:

“It is way worse for the child. Who is a child. Who feels it strongly, and might in a few years not remember about it consciously, but it will be there and later on they will become the most severe judges of their own parents.”

Things that seem little to you sometimes have profound effect on one’s life.

That is why we should probably choose positive actions and words. We might not even realise but we are building reality.

I just found out two of these apparently small acts that have changed lives.

About a year ago, Nininha the lady who works here in our house, told me she was suffering. Her child ate nothing, and was afraid of going out.

My dear friend Rafaela was here. Rafaela studied both anthropology and psychology. She worked with the indigenous people of the Amazon. I asked her whether she could talk to Nininha. And, naturally did she did. Apart from profound knowledge that came from Universities. She has something which I find way more important. She is compassionate and non judgemental.

“Nininha, do you eat with your child? Do you spend time with her?”

“No Rafaela, I make the food and put it there. After a whole day working in so many houses I sit to rest and watch tv.”

“Nininha, try to ask her to cook with you. Make of it a game. Turn off the TV and sit with her.”

I had not heard from Erika, Nininha’s daughter, till these days. We naturally talked about several things but she did not talk about it, and I did not ask.

I didn’t ask because I had forgotten it, but simply because I have learned to let people tell me what they want, rather than interrogating anyone.

Some people might even take it to be self-absorption, non caring etc. Most of my close friends I hope should know I wait for them to talk and then ask when they talk about it.

So I was in the kitchen when Nininha told me out of the blue.

“You know, since I started to follow everything your friend told me it all changed.”

“Wow! You really do it? Does she eat now? Is she more confident?”

“Yes. I follow all that she said and it is really important.”

I was so moved.

Today I woke up and called a friend to go climbing. She sent me a message saying.

” I can’t, but have a good day”.

So as I was in the kitchen I recorded a message saying “Good morning, and asked Cre and Raquel, who work here to say Good morning to her too”

We did it laughing.

My friend sent a message back saying: ” You always wake up happy!”

As usual my mind flew back to Asia. More precisely to India. I woke up in my usual happiness then and my friend said.

“What did you just say? How can you always wake up cheerful ?”

“I said “Bom dia sol! Which means good morning Son!”

“What do you say when there is no Sun?”

” I know you might find it silly. But I say good morning cloud, or rain.?”

I obviously had stopped saying that when I was sad, sick, tired of life.

But today when we received the message of my friend saying

“You always wake up cheerful”

I remembered and said while I was in the kitchen

“It is because I have already wished Good morning to the Sun. 🙂

I never knew where it had come from. And then Cre told me

“I taught you.”

And I remembered it! Cre was my nanny when I was born. She hid under my bed to sleep with me so that no one would know simply because I was afraid.

She left us when I was 6. I never forgot Cre.

When I came back to Brazil last year almost dead my grandmother jandyra, who is very spiritual told my father “you must call Cre to take care of her. She was the first person to do so.”

When I got better, my grandmother Lucia, with whom I live with did not want to let Cre go.

She worked before with my other grandmother.

When I went to my Neurologist last week he told me

“I am not religious but your case is a miracle! Give rest to your Guardian Angel. In my career nothing has moved me so much as this. Your desire to live is just amazing.”

I naturally told him he could not ask me to spare a being he did not believe in 🙂 and that for a long time I prayed to die.

Maybe that desire was non-conscious everything fights to live. That is why the sparing of non necessary information, betrayal was crucial.

I am thankful to all of you who read this. All of you who have prayed, all who have taken care of me. I am eternally thankful.

We change the world in a daily basis. I l feel I will be forever buddhist, and forever respecting of all the other religious people and none religious ones who attempt in a daily basis to build a more compassionate world.

And I am conscious that my daily happiness in the morning has origin! It is because I was taught to say good morning to the sun. Rafaela should know that Erika eats better now because of her.

We all should be more conscious of the impact we have on the other.

Love, from Brazil

It is september 2014. Last year I almost died in September. My friends were told by someone I once trusted that I was gone. Cognition had left me. Julieta as you knew does no longer exist.

And that is true. In that year the first thing my neurologist dr. Getulio Daré Rabello saw it was me and I was lost. He looked at me with preoccupied face. They did not fully understand though I could not speak I could hear, I could think and I was trapped inside my brain.

Dr. Getulio was so kind and attempted to treat me normally, while I could not focus my mind nor eyes. He forbade my parents to give me information that was sent to my friends. I would suffer too much. And he told me “julieta, try to write! You have studied so much, you must try to write.”

I will be forever thankful for these words! The sparing of pain when I could not take it, and to trust I could write again.

And so I did. It was so hard. I could not remember words, I could not understand a screen, I had lost categories. I was lost alone inside of my brain.

But I did it. I fought for the wrong reason to live. But still I did it. I had the massive support of my parents, grandmother, my brother. I had friends praying for me in Palestine and Israel. In Europe. I had my dearest professors Mustapha and Marcelo in a battle. I had people from every single continent writing me, praying and hoping. Above all I had some people of my family and friends who simply did not believe I was gone.

To be totally honest when I realised how betrayed and abandoned by someone I mistakingly and non-wisely trusted I lost all hope.

It did not matter if everybody told me how educated I was, how much I could give to the world. I simply had internally quit the world. I did not feel like trusting anything anymore. I prayed every night to die. Not to be sick again, simply to die. And I have no problem in saying this to anyone.

One day someone who had been in a war, and someone else who had been tortured told me.” What you have gone through is worse than what I have lived. I was tortured by my enemy. I had never expected anything good from him. Everybody has the same amount of pain in life.” “You must not let it go inside.” “You must see things for what they are.” “Any harm inflicted on you is your own fault you allowed it.”

I understood and still I could barely want to live. I had been defeated from inside. I had pain in my whole body.

Then I started reading Buddhism. It freed me. It calmed me down. It did not give me any desire to do anything. But I did stop praying to die.

I re-encountered music. Benjamim Taubkin and Penezzi were instrumental in giving me some pure advice.

Then I started to climb and was confronted with my lost flexibility. So, I came to the beach.

I came alone and stayed under the sun and under the rain. Never moved by anything. I started my daily process of healing my body. I did yoga, I swam, I meditated. I regain total movement. I understood my brain way better than I ever did.

Last night I sat with Nil. The daughter of Anisia ( the lady who takes care of our beach house).

How many years had passed since I had done this! No idea.

“Nil, I was meditating today and it came to my mind I was racist towards you when I was a child. I am so sorry.!”

“You? Are you sure? I don’t remember. We played the whole time you, mirela and I.”

“I am sure. I was racist! I said something about you being black!”

“I really dont remember. I remember we made sweets to sell in the beach, we made plans, we sold perfume we made with plants. Oh. There was one day you did not let mirela go inside the pool. And she cried!”

“Why? And she is white than it was not racist, right?

“You were not racist! You did not let her go inside the pool bc she had hurt her leg and it would pollute it :)”

“My god. That is horrible! What did you say?”

“Nothing. You were the owner of the pool.”

“Dear lord. I was classicist!!!!”

“We played the whole time. The three of us. We had fights and went back to playing seconds after. We had lots of fun. I guess we were cruel to your brother!

“True! But he was annoying :)”

I bid goodbye and went to my huge house alone while Anisia and Nil stayed in theirs. I closed the door thinking. “there is something absurd in this situation”.

I woke up the sun was fighting to appear. I meditated and as usual while I practiced yoga here I sang mantras, and I always touch the sea and I ask for liberation for all suffering to all that I know, all that i have touched, to all that is sentient being.

I ask to all beings protection from Buddha, God, YHWH, Allah, Krishna, Tara, Karmapa, Dalai lama, Jesus, Nossa Senhora da Paz, to high spiritual beings that came from Africa, indigenous peoples of Americas that have disappeared without me ever knowing their names. I look at the sea and think of Yemanja. I look at the sun and think of the words of lama Michel when talking about all that causes dopamine released in the brain. Drugs, alcohol, sex, chocolate etc

“such euphoria is suffering in disguise.”

I seat under the sun and feel the heat. The joy. The peace. I smile thinking in my prayer which is essentially Brazilian, the incorporation of all without the need to let anything out.

And deep down I know even this total wellbeing is transitory it is impermanent, and that is ok.

I seat and write this from my phone. Dr. Getulio was right. I must write. And I also know my soul while working in being present will always fly east.

Love, Julieta

I have a deep conection with the mekong. More precisely to my friends who I have met seing the sunset in the Mekong. How many thousands pictures could one take, how many painters have attempted to capture it?

They feel to me always like the shadows of plato’s cave. Some are naturally more beautiful, than others… yet they are still shadows.

I made a friend in a bus, just like I did before all over the world. She told me she was supposed to avoid the sun and that she had started a daily war with her own fear. She took pictures of the sunrise.

I have ever since attempted to see the sun rise here by the beach. It never really worked. Till today.

Just like any other day I could not see the sun rise. I sat on the sand and observed there was light. I did not know where it came from. I looked aound thinking: above the clouds in every plane you can see it is sunny. But where was the sun now?

I sat hearing the waves and suddenly I could see a pinkish, red “thorn” fighting to slide, glide penetrate the clouds. It was a long battle.

And suddenly I realised I could not antissipate the victory of the sun unless I looked that in fact it was all over lit. I could finally see it, when I looked at the sea. There he was. There he was clearer than in the sky. There he was.. The sun!

My mind naturally wondered back to Asia. Chinese medicine. Never tackling the exact point. It is in the reflection of all that is around that you can see the whole.

Not much longer, with all that needed to be lit already lit, with all clouds mysteriously disappearing I saw the bright yellow sun in the sky.