View of a Passerby

(I couldn't sleep for an hour last night so I just started writing this stream of thought)

If you are like me and the way in which you do things has a very random rhythm, than this blog is probably working out for you. If you live by a rhythm that makes a little more sense and have been regularly checking up on me, then I probably already lost you. Salvador seems to have a rhythm that is in line with mine. The “harmony” of this city is less Mozart and a little more Picasso.

This city bares its colors on its streets. Both the dark and the bright are visible in half-hour stroll through the city. They say there is a church for every day of the year here, while the majority of them are Catholic, don’t expect to miss many alternative means of worship; from the culturally established Candomblé tradition, born from African deities and Catholic influence, to the Born-Again Christian church. Yet, their tolerance ranges from their worship to their streets where the homeless and abandoned are a very visible part of the painting. This reality is one of suffering, drugs, hunger, and death for adults and children alike.

It seems odd to write about the suffering of the impoverished here and move right on to the next block where the beaches line the city, and offer a view of the Atlantic Ocean or Bay of All Saints, but that is just what life is like here. You just have to remember to hit up those churches to offer thanks, and prayers for the suffering, and unfortunately I have been more forgetful of that aspect of my life as I have been exploring the city. That will have to change because the faith here seems too rich pass by and not want to join.

In the meantime, my exploration has consisted of wave hunting on the beaches of Bahia where I spend my days paddling in the waters that grace our Jersey Shore. As I clumsily wobble around on my board I am not the only one drawing a sense of stability from the vast ocean. Unlike most places I have relaxed on a beautiful beach, this place offers it’s shores to everyone looking for some everyday beauty, again sort of difficult to miss the spiritual aspect of all this. Being out there on the water most days, I have made friends that are starving for some waves as they ride their duct-tape salvaged boards better than I ride a board that is in one piece and floats twice as well.

After surfing, I am always hungry, and my craving can be narrowed down to two things, cold beer or açaí.