The firecrackers here are as loud as M-80s back home, and the best part is that it's the little 8-year-olds who are setting them off. The sound ricochets off the colonial walls and even after a night of them (which, logically, would lead me to dream about gang violence and drive-by shootings) still causes my heart to jump each time they ignite. This party is still doing (Evidently Saint John was a dude worth celebrating for at least four or five days consecutively)...there is no silence in Pelourinho, not even at six in the morning. It's mildly fatiguing even to sleep, ha! So, off to the beach today to regain inner peace, if such a thing exists.
Yesterday was spent enjoying Italy's loss in the Eurocup2008 to Spain (in penalty kicks,m but whatever), drinking caipirinhas, tasting varieties of sugarcane cachaca liquor, and feeding cravings with acarajé fried up in dende oil, and noshing on skewers of street-grilled festivity food like meat, meat, meat, rolled in a coarse yellow 'farinha' flour. Pure carnivorous goodness.
On Wednesday I will check in with the program at the hotel and go through orientation. After very limited communication from UCLA about the program thus far, I am expecting very little. Then the family stay and intensive coursework begins. Thus ends vacation. I am excited, but a but nervous. The imposition of living with a family in another country has never truly been a comfortable one for me.
beijos
