(a 360 repost) Someone asked me what we're having for supper ; )


Tonight, we had samp and beans or as the Xhosa call it, umngqusbo, for supper and it made me think of Sophie. Samp, for those who don't know, is a white hominy. It is cooked with sugar beans and beef. My version contains tomato extract too - delicious!

Sophie is on the far left in the photograph. I'm the grubby looking kid with the bright red ribbons. My gran always put ribbons in my hair, no matter what the activity was or where we were going. I think she loved ribbons and they were always big and bright. On the far right, is Hamish, my brother and between us is Jemimah, Sophie's daughter and my playmate. Next to me is my gran. The other lady is a friend of hers, Gloria... a crazy lady.

Sophie was our maid. She worked for my gran from before I came along. Then she became my nanny. She is the one who walked me to and from school in the early grades. Ouma (my gran) was at the shop (for those who don't know, I was raised by my grandparents.) I remember sitting at the kitchen table, eating my lunch after school and telling Sophie to sit with me. "No, miss, it's not right." No amount of nagging on my part would get her to sit with me. She would stand at the counter, eating her lunch. Sophie was the one who taught me how to mop up the gravy from the stew with a chunk of bread... yummy! Sophie was also the one who taught me how to enjoy and later to make samp and beans. I have since used the dish for winter comfort food and even entertaining.

I remember once as a fairly new wife, we had had dinner with friends who were way out of our financial league. It was like eating at a hotel. They had servants doing all the preparation and serving. I was duly intimidated, as I knew we'd have to return the favour. In the end, I made samp and beans... something my friend had never tasted before. It was a hit. I love that stuff :)

Sophie was with us through my primary school years. It was Sophie who fetched me from school the day my grandad died. That was the end of an era. We moved and Sophie retired. Within a couple of months, I lost my beloved grandad, Jim, and Sophie. I can still picture her in her ever-present black beret, leaning over the kitchen counter, mopping up her gravy with a chunk of bread.... or chopping meat for supper, listening patiently to my jabbering.

Jorge put me onto this news article. Clicking on the image above will take you to the original article (in Portuguese).

Not very far from here (in relation to the size of Brazil), at Santo Antônio do Monte, 185 km  from Belo Horizonte, in Minas Gerais, this gorgeous dog saved a newborn baby. The dog, Xuxa, named after one of Brazil's celebrities, is a 'vira lata' or mongrel.... with a heart of gold. Her owner found her standing over a cardboard box in a vacant lot, barking incessantly.

Maria opened the box and found a newborn baby, still covered with blood with the umbilical cord attached. The little boy, now named João Gabriel, is doing well in hospital and will probably be adopted. The mother of the child has not been found.

As Jorge put it when he showed me the article.... animals put humans to shame. I know there are those that will say the dog was barking because of the smell of blood, but I do believe that it goes far beyond that. The dog sensed life. That little boy has a chance at life now. I can only hope his life continues to be blessed.

For even more heartwarming dog news, go to Irene's blog here. These animals are simply amazing!

Blackmores Night Lyrics
Spirit Of The Sea Lyrics


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Jorge is a strange character. His usual reaction to death or the announcement of someone's death is a super-tactful, "Sh*t happens." Apologies for the expression. I'm quoting very literally. I say, super-tactful, because he has been known to insert some black humour at that point, unless checked. I've always believed that this is because he has no earthly clue how to deal with the subject. Emotion of any sort in himself or anyone else makes him incredibly uncomfortable.

This morning, he called an elderly spinster who apparently knew him and his family when he was just a tiny tot here, before they moved to South Africa. She also knows the Lithuanian lot well. The lady, Irene, was talking about another lady (I forget their connection) who is recently widowed and having a hard time adjusting. She's 70 and her husband was 75. This got Jorge talking about death and then, graves. He has this dream of returning to Lithuania to buy the land his grandfather owned.

This was different. He now wants to find out exactly where his grandfather was buried here in Brazil, so that he can take a handful of soil from his grave to his grandmother's grave in Lithuania. He then wants to renovate her grave because it has been neglected. Those who know Jorge, will know that this is really strange talk from him. He never met his grandparents. In fact, he only recently met his aunt for the first time, his uncle having passed on before he made it to Lithuania.

We have never, as a family, given much credence to burial places. I believe that the grave is empty. It is merely a symbol... a marker. The spirit of the person lives on in our hearts and lives. A meaningful tribute, to me, would be to plant a tree or something in their memory. Jorge is about as unsentimental as they come, so this kind of talk had us wondering if he was feeling... uh... well. Is my husband getting sentimental in his old age? He is, you know... in many ways. Then there are days when he totally blows that 'persona'. Confusing guy....

A couple of days ago, we were told that the Lithuanian president is 'in town' and that he would be coming to our 'village'. For those who have been around a while, you'll know I don't live in a village, but in the Lithuanian community of São Paulo... very much city, except for the village-like atmosphere. Tickets to the presidential lunch were being sold at R$100 each (that is around US$63 ) per person. Naturally, we didn't go. We heard later that he would be coming to the village today to speak at the church. This church is Catholic, but unique here, as they have regular services in Lithuanian.

But... I had shopping to do. Jorge went off to the meeting. After French plaiting Tat's hair, just for the heck of it, I called Jorge to ask him how I'd get the house keys to him. He said just to call him when I got to the church, and he'd come out to collect them. We arrived at the church to see the speachifying was in progress, so I snuck in to give Jorge the keys. Once there, I saw him standing with the camera, not taking photos. That's not on! I grabbed the camera and went to the front, snapping away, not taking in a word of the speeches, as he spoke in Lithuanian and the interpreter spoke very badly... not very clearly and I need clear Portuguese.

Meet the president....  I have to confess at this point that I have absolutely no idea what his name is!! Edit: Just looked it up. Meet Valdas Adamkus, President of the Republic of Lithuania!



He commented on the Lithuanian spirit that was very evident in the crowd he viewed...




He was a riveting speaker - as I was told. The lady is the interpreter...





The car.. well... just another car, really...





This little girl was cute as a button. So full of life and enthusiasm, in her Baltic amber necklace. Her mother kindly gave me permission to photograph her.




The president apparently loves children : ) This photo was taken over the shoulders of the crowd pressing around them.




The motorcade escort...




The sun was high. I found this trio of girls crammed onto a tiny porch. The little cub scout and Lithuanian mascot wanted in on the photo.




Jonas, Jorge, and Vladis - the 3 cousins



In all, it was a festive day. Tat was asked to join the Lithuanian club dancers. She sure looked the part with her plaited blonde hair and fair looks. The dancers are apparently going to Lithuania next year on a sponsored dance tour. We eventually made our way to the supermarket for long-overdue shopping. Tat got many comments on her hair today. It was odd, really, as it is a style she wears quite often. Today, she looked Lithuanian : )

A more formal write-up of today's happenings can be found here.
A photo on the presidential site of the dinner arrangement we missed can be seen here.

I love this cartoon. The art in these cartoons is simple, cleverly done, and attractive. Click on the cartoon for more of the same.

As most of you know, I subscribe to a daily e-mail from TUT. I loved this morning's e-mail...

If you just whistle every now and then, Tint; skip every thousandth step or so; skim the odd stone across the odd pond; go dancing on the occasional blue moon, if only alone in the dark; dress up sometimes, even with nowhere to go... for simply stirring up some little bit of hope, no matter how silly or disconnected your actions seem to be with the rest of the world, magic flashes in the unseen, friends are summoned, connections are timed, stars are aligned, opportunities are crystallized and serendipities are calculated, creating possibilities for new realities that cannot now even be imagined from where you presently stand.

The sun is shining outside... brightly. Our weather has been incredibly dry, causing the powers that be here to issue health warnings. Sure, the dry air means more pollution hanging over us, but otherwise, I'm loving it. It is the kind of weather where it is cool in the shade and warm in the sun. The animals are loving it too. The dogs lie basking in the sun most of the day. Specs took advantage and snuck out to eat some of the bird's grass and lie in my pot of nasturtiums. It's fun going out when you know a hyperactive dog's tail isn't going to wack you in the face. I planted grass seed in a pot, so that we could get fresh seed, which the bird loves. So far, the dogs and cat are enjoying the grass more. Poor Heidi, the cockatiel, has to suffice with dry seed unless I go for walks.

I think the cat (and Tut) is telling me something..... get out and just enjoy what there is... in little sunny snatches.

PS. I have no clue what that leaf on the right is. A volunteer plant seeded there. We left it to see what would happen. I strongly suspect it is a tree = /

The dream itself, like all my dreams, was long and I don't remember much of it. There was one part that stood out near the end.

I was in bed and when I woke up, there was a spider's web at the foot. In the center was a very large, round, hard-shelled, rich chocolate-brown spider. It had a cluster white dots in the center of it's abdomen. This spider was surrounded by a few others, looking identical, but smaller. I was horrified when I first saw them, but was then fascinated.

Bear in mind, I have no fear of spiders. I respect them and will defend their right to be there. Indoor spiders usually get captured and taken outside to the plants. I have been known to photograph and film spiders. We had a spider at our old place (the one in the photo) that I even used to have conversations with.

I approached the web with the idea of finding out why it was there. Next thing I knew... you know the way dreams tend to morph... the web was moving and the big spider climbed down. Another morph later, and the spider had changed into a small, grey, tabby cat... not too stripey, which was walking on its hind legs (something like the cat in Shrek) and leading me somewhere. I don't know where it led me to, as the dream changed then.

I have a blog where I used to record all my dreams. I stopped posting in there, but I still like to record my dreams, so I might as well do it here. After all... they're a part of me too, right?

Apologies to those who are squeamish about spiders ; )

I found this:

To see a spider in your dream, indicates that you are feeling like an outsider in some situation. Or that you may want to keep your distance and  stay away from an alluring and tempting situation.  The spider is also symbolic of feminine power. Alternatively, a spider may refer to a powerful force protecting you against  your self-destructive behavior. If you kill a spider, it symbolizes misfortune and general bad luck.

To see a spider spinning a web in your dream, signifies that you will be rewarded for your hard work. You will soon find yourself promoted in your job or recognized for your achievement in a difficult task.  Spiders are a symbol of creativity due to the intricate webs they spin. On a negative note, spiders may indicate a feeling of being entangled or trapped in a sticky or clingy relationship. It represents some ensnaring and controlling force. You may feel that someone or some situation is sucking the life right out of you.

To see a spider climbing up a wall in your dream, denotes that your desires will be soon be realized.

To dream that you are bitten by a spider, represents a conflict with your mother or some dominant female figure in your life. The dream may be a metaphor for a devouring mother or the feminine power to possess and entrap. Perhaps you are feeling trapped by some relationship. 

A conversation I had today brought to mind something I have been reading and hearing of over and over from various sources... being grateful, not just grateful, but grateful for where I am. Now, I must tell you, it takes a lot for me to say this. Those who know me and know how I've felt the past number of years will know what I mean, so I'm not going to follow that thought here at all... it would defeat the purpose. This blog is of a personal nature, so reading it may well turn out to be immensely boring. I won't be offended if you glance and move on : )

It is well known that those who give thanks for what they have, somehow 'attract' more of the good. Whiners tend to get more of the negative... right? The key here is to use no negative words at all. Try it... it isn't as easy as it sounds. I'm not allowing myself to say something like, "I'm grateful I don't have...", as 'don't' is negative. Let's see how far I can take this exercise.

So... I'm grateful

... that I have a home that is bright and sunny... and waterproof.
... that I have my little family around me. I know where each one is. I can talk to them whenever I please.
... that we are all healthy. I look around and see wet noses and sparkly eyes. Ok... so the healthy thing covers the animals too : )
... that I trip over animals that love to rub up against my legs. Unconditional love is good, especially when I have treats in hand
... that I have treats to give!
... that I live in Brazil. Living here has gotten me one very dear friend, a godmother to my child, and a hoard of wonderful friends all over the world!
... for my computer and our normally excellent internet connection
... for the freedom to surf, explore, do research
... that I found my cousins after more than 30 years of silence
... that I can read on my favourite subjects, so that once I have moved, I can study and it will be easier to qualify
... that I have been given the time to prepare to move
... supper is smelling good ; )
... for my incredible sense of smell, which makes me check the supper before it... well... y'know ; )
... for my family's great sense of humour. It has helped though some... interesting times
... for the learning curve life threw me on when we made the decision to come to Brazil
... I have had the opportunity to broaden my horizons and look deeply into a different culture, way of life, different religions... a different way of thinking
... for the 'fertilizer' I am often surrounded with. It helps me grow


I am grateful that I am South African. I am grateful for who I am and what I am. My world comes with its little 'challenges', sure, but life is good.... right?

Freedom for many comes at a price and often after tremendous struggle. The butterfly is free, but the struggle to emerge from its pupa seems to take a huge toll on its strength, but if you help it along, it won't develop properly. Perhaps freedom that comes easily is not appreciated as much? Freedom is beautiful, is it not?

This photo is untouched beyond cropping and framing. We get tons of this particular butterfly. They decimate my nasturtiums. I have photos of the whole process, from egg through to butterfly. This one is taken of the butterfly after emerging on the ladder my husband made. Darn... I see there's a dog hair I should have removed.

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Another 'Freedom'

São Paulo is the economic center of Brazil. When São Paulo goes down, the whole country feels it. Last night, on the dot at midnight, our internet died. I cursed and went to bed, as the internet has been dicey for a few weeks now with super slow speeds at times.

We woke this morning to the news that the whole of São Paolo was down. News later came in that the downtime was statewide. Our internet downtime meant that everything was down. Think banks, police, airports, the works. On tv (great crime-prevention move there), they announced that no one was able to make official complaints at the police (what happened to paper and pen?) and the cops weren't able to release bodies from the morgue without internet (we needed to know that). Our news tonight tells us that Annatel, the governing 'body' for telecommunications in Brazil, is considering a R$50 million fine against Telkom if they can prove negligence. This should get interesting. Take a guess who'll eventually foot that bill... the users. Speaking of footing the bill. We just got the delightful news, too, that our electricity is going up by 8.26% next month. That should go down well.

Yesterday, we were out the whole day. We only got home at 9pm. Tat had a job in. I was really proud of her. She worked hard and performed well. The director, a crazy British guy, asked her why she hasn't considered going into acting. Born and raised South African, she has spoken Brazilian Portuguese fluently from shortly after we arrived here... without any hint of a foreign accent. For yesterday's work, she had to do a huge section in an American accent, then follow up with a section using a British accent. According to the director, she is authentic. Not bad for a kid who's never been to either the USA or Britain. She just listens to the accent and replicates it. That is some talent.


Now I need to catch up with some mail. 'Someone' apparently put the internet on hold for us, but forgot to stop mail while I was down ; )

Or are we going 1.1, 1.2... 1.10 then 2.0, 2.1, etc until 3? I thought it was supposed to be "Three's a charm".

My day started with our neighbour, at some ungodly hour (it was still dark in my bedroom and my alarm had NOT rung yet), revving his car in front of my bedroom. He must have revved for over half an hour. He then hooted for his kids... and went back to revving once they had all slammed and shouted their way into the car. After a while, I dozed off again.

I should have taken the hint, though, when my pc, after numerous restarts, refused to connect to the internet. It had no right! Perhaps it needed revving too. Finally, I got up and running and was  merrily checking my mail when the cat started crying for her ball. That can get annoying. She wants her ball and wants it now. Trouble is, her favourite ball is transparent and blends soooo well. I found it and asked Jorge to drill the hole in the ball a little larger, so that I could put a piece of ribbon in there, which would make finding the ball easier.



Jorge ambled off to oblige. A little later, I heard an ominous curse from the kitchen.

One of Jorge's prize tools is his Dremel. He had just blown the motor (or something) by putting it into the wrong outlet. In Brazil, the mainstream power is 110 volts. We are accustomed to 220 volts from South Africa. When we arrived here, we checked all the outlets for 220 and found none. Eventually, Jorge set up a 220 volt outlet in our passage, so that we could use our South African-born appliances and tools anywhere in the house via extension cord. Today, Jorge went to use the one power outlet we never tested because we couldn't see a use for it. This outlet sits above the kitchen sink, right near the faucets. The sink area was clear and just needing a quick spin, he thought he'd just plug in there and drill. He broke his own golden rule of never using an untested outlet, especially with Brazil's rather dubious power. The Dremel was 110 volts. The excess power fried it.

The good news? There is none. Dremel here won't sell just the parts. They will only repair and that will cost. The parts will cost too. Ugh!

Oh... and on the subject of the sink and faucets. We've had no filtered water here for a few days. The thread on the filter's tap was totally shot, so the filter was removed. The new tap cost us a penny today. I think Jorge decided we'd at least have that in the light of the hopelessness of his Dremel.

Then there seems to be something in the air. All over the world, people seem to be antsy and snappy. What is it?

We're finally in some sort of a winter here. We're in 'garoa' season, though I see there are warnings for heavy rains in many states. Garoa takes some getting used to. Imagine a rain that swirls like mist, penetrates everything, but differs from mist in that you feel the raindrops... ever so lightly... on your skin. This can go on for weeks. Dull... grey... cold... wet. Perfect weather for feijoada.



This photo is for Ben ; )

Feijoada is traditionally, a dish made with pork, specifically the... uh... less salubrious parts, such as the ears, tail and snout. It has a long history here in Brazil though. The early slaves were given the 'leftovers' of the pig to use for nutrition. Cooked with beans and served over rice, it became a staple, prized, too, for the fact that you could stretch the one pot of meal out over a few days - or serve a veritable army. Today, the dish is prepared rather differently. I blogged that before, so I won't repeat it here. My way is somewhat different. My feijoada is a mix of stewing beef, pork (usually chops, but often shank), calabresa (a spicy sausage), and beans. Simple. I soak the beans for around 5 hours ahead of time. At the time, I pop onion, garlic, meat and beans into the pressure cooker, add some stock and herbs, cover with water and let it putter away for just over an hour. I then cook up the rice and supper is ready. Day 2, I serve leftovers. Day 3, I stretch it with another calabresa ; ) Yep... it goes a long way and is perfect for the lazy cook. Naturally, if you're good, you'll serve this with salad : ) Traditionally, feijoada is served with caipirinha.

As you may have noticed (or not), I haven't been blogging lately. I had a fair amount on my mind. I won't go into details because the stories aren't necessarily mine to tell. Work has also been extremely, worryingly slow. We get through though. We always do... somehow. In the meantime, we're enjoying the cold... and the quiet. Cold weather drives the locals indoors and the streets become relatively quiet by comparison to normal.

So nothing newsy here, really. Just checking in to let you all know I'm still alive... just in case you were wondering ; )

I thought I'd bring this old blog of mine across from 360°. I have added to it somewhat.

"Decide that you'll be successful and happy come what may, and good things will find you. The roadblocks are only minor obstacles along the way."  I got to thinking about the roadblocks and detours in our lives.

What is a roadblock? One of Webster's Random House definitions is:

road·block n.
1. an obstruction placed across a road, esp. of barricades or police cars, for halting or hindering traffic, as to facilitate the capture of a pursued car or inspection for safety violations.

Yes, I know there are roadblocks that frustrate us and some may even be dangerous, but I'm thinking of the roadblocks that we usually encounter. You're on your way home at night, in a rush to get home and tuck into bed after an evening out. You are stopped at a roadblock. Sure, its frustrating, but why is the roadblock there? Ultimately, for our protection. Its the roadblock that checks for the drunk/drugged drivers who are a danger to us on the road. Its the roadblock that is looking for the criminal. Its the roadblock looking for cars driving without headlights or break lights.

Roadblocks also serve to give us a moment's pause. Perhaps we need to stop and rethink our route... or simply rest a while. I am grateful for the roadblocks that stopped me flying straight into a destiny that may not have been the right thing for me.

Detours are similar. They take us around possible problem areas and we get to enjoy the scenery on the road. I, personally, by choice often take the scenic route (and no, it isn't always because I'm lost!). Perhaps a different lesson needs to be learnt along the way (like mapreading). Each part of the journey is as important.

We all have our dreams. Some of us have very big dreams. I have decided that I will reach my dreams. I will have the future I want and crave. I have had more roadblocks and detours on this road than I care to count, but, you know what? Those roadblocks are a protection for me. Perhaps the roadblock has made me detour (rockslide or fallen tree). The detour may have prevented me from falling down an unstable cliff face or provided me with a more scenic way of getting where I'm going.

I think I will look at my roadblocks in a different light from here on. I still hope there will be as few as possible because I'm not a very patient person and I really, really want that dream to come true. ASAP please : )

collaborating helping teaching being
a father

ADULT:
A person who has stopped growing at both ends and is now growing in the middle


BEAUTY PARLOR:
A place where women curl up and dye


CANNIBAL:
Someone who is fed up with people

Note: This one is NOT funny. Apologies to all chickens in present company
CHICKENS:
The only animals you eat before they are born and after they are dead


COMMITTEE:
A body that keeps minutes and wastes hours


DUST:
Mud with the juice squeezed out


EGOTIST:
Someone who is usually me-deep in conversation


HANDKERCHIEF:
Cold Storage


INFLATION:
Cutting money in half without damaging the paper


MOSQUITO:
An insect that makes you like flies better


RAISIN:
Grape with a sunburn


SECRET:
Something you tell to one person at a time


SKELETON:
A bunch of bones with the person scraped off


TOOTHACHE:

The pain that drives you to extraction



TOMORROW:
One of the greatest labor saving devices of today


YAWN:
An honest opinion openly expressed


WRINKLES:
Something other people have,
similar to my character lines

I needed the laugh this morning. Hope these gave you a chuckle. I thought they were rather good. The photo is of my rosemary in flower. I think I'm off to visit it now : )

Every year, we would go to the South African Consulate Function in April. It was usually a rather grandiose affair, but on this occasion, they had outdone themselves. Food was French style, ie. more artistic than designed to sustain, with an appetiser of Carpaccio of Ostrich, a rare meat here, but fairly common in South Africa. Wine flowed freely the whole evening. Designer gowns, flashy jewelry, and fancy cars abounded. The venue was an upmarket Bingo hall, Imperatriz. The building was palacial, done in an African style, with dark African warriors lining the walls, huge tusks curving up towards the ceilings, which were lit with myriads of tiny lights. The entrance hall boasted enormous statues of elephants and giraffes.

The place and the event epitomised extravagance to me in every sense of the word.

Lindiwe Zulu, the South African ambassador to Brazil broke out in song during the speeches. I think the chap standing behind her looks somewhat uncomfortable. As you can hear by the background noise, the song was a hit, especially among her fellow Xhosa's.

The "African" dancers. Their performance was very un-African, performed by Brazilian dancers who had never been to Africa, and the ambassador was angry. A few nasty office memo's flew around after the event.


Apologies for the video quality with this last one.

It seems some can't view the Youtube videos. They can also be found here:
"African" dancers
Ambassador singing

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It has been a somewhat rough weekend on this end. I started today thinking that it is at least a brand new week, but tension is still running high. You know one of those days when the air is thick and the silence, heavy. You know how one negative thing seems to be contagious... and everything else goes wrong from there? Well, it's true and I'll be danged if it isn't really hard to turn it around, especially when there are other stressors involved that aren't just going to go away in a hurry and I'm having a 'glass walls' kind of life. Ah well... we'll try for the 'new day' thing tomorrow again.

Jorge went to some event at the Immigrant's museum yesterday. Looked like it could have been fun.




A very different sort of lifestyle

The photos, of course, were taken by Jorge. Tat and I stayed home and relaxed. It was peaceful ; )