Home of the Brave

I could not think of any other way to describe Brazil by saying it is the true home of the brave. May a fellow american reader claim this is an outrageous assault of the State’s anthem, a pure case of author’s right violation and patriotic robbery. Well, pardon me! But if you put one foot on this green-and-yellow land I’m writting from, maybe my barefaced act will not seem so in vain. Let me explain.

Surviving in Brazil is not an easy task. There are plenty of items to be put on a list that would answer anyone that asks “why?”. I’m not a brazilianist researcher, neither my knowledge about this country covers 1/1000 that is out there to be learned. But there’s one thing that I have, and is of great value: I wake up and go to sleep everyday here.

As I walk by my hometown, Rio de Janeiro, each corner tells me that we still have a long, long way before calling ourselves a developed country. Poverty, lack of public conservation, lack of adequate transportation, a constant feeling of insecurity. All that in contrast to an exuberant natural beauty and an true friendly and kind people makes my head go nuts, thinking that if our politicians had a little more care with this land, Brazil would definetly be the closest example of heaven on Earth. For now, even angels have to struggle in order to survive here.

If you have interest and patience, this blog’s updates are intended to express my personal view on why it is so difficult to just lean back, put on a nice samba cd, serve myself a tasty caipirinha and think that everything is allright. Maybe they will make you see that we are definetly the home of the Brave but, unfortunately, not the land of the free.

See you next time.

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