<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sun, 22 Nov 2009 11:51:07 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>De aquí para allá</title><description></description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-777054875826621494</guid><pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2009 09:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-01T07:01:32.511-03:00</atom:updated><title>Medios que voy a seguir exhaustivamente</title><description>&lt;a href="http://www.soitu.es/"&gt;Soitu &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rtve.es/"&gt;Rtve.es &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-777054875826621494?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2009_10_01_archive.html#777054875826621494</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-6335053958879699930</guid><pubDate>Mon, 27 Apr 2009 10:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-04-27T07:08:01.148-03:00</atom:updated><title>Palabras / Words</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SGTjxgeLjgI/AAAAAAAAASc/7hmJI5FP0tE/s1600-h/rdc_0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SGTjxgeLjgI/AAAAAAAAASc/7hmJI5FP0tE/s400/rdc_0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216544708071493122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Acarajé, Vatapá, Dendé, Carurú, Sururú, Castanha de Cajú; Itaparica, Itacaré, Itacimirim, Iguatemi; Motumbá, Olodum, Il aiye, Pato Fú; Iemanjá, Oxum, Xango.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(tenía este post almacenado entre los borradores, así que me lo saco ahora de la manga y, de paso, alimento mi nostalgia).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-6335053958879699930?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#6335053958879699930</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SGTjxgeLjgI/AAAAAAAAASc/7hmJI5FP0tE/s72-c/rdc_0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-2729079082333229500</guid><pubDate>Mon, 27 Apr 2009 09:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-04-27T07:03:05.383-03:00</atom:updated><title>Vuelta y vuelta</title><description>Hace siglos que debería haber incluido el enlace a &lt;a href="http://blogs.rtve.es/vueltayvuelta/posts"&gt;Vuelta y Vuelta&lt;/a&gt;, el blog que escribo para rtve.es y que relata los pormenores de la vida en España. Pero la vida es corta, el arte largo, y puede decirse que todavía no me he recuperado del todo de tanta mudanza. Nos vemos allí.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-2729079082333229500?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#2729079082333229500</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-8073057807343372837</guid><pubDate>Thu, 07 Aug 2008 12:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-08-07T09:52:50.558-03:00</atom:updated><title>Nos vamos / We're leaving</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SJrtPvdyLnI/AAAAAAAAATA/dVdqFR5Jo0M/s1600-h/022507-800x530-coffee.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SJrtPvdyLnI/AAAAAAAAATA/dVdqFR5Jo0M/s400/022507-800x530-coffee.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231754771839463026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;En diez días aterrizaremos en España.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No es el final de nuestros viajes, sino el inicio de una nueva etapa en la que nos esforzaremos por observar lo conocido y lo desconocido con la misma curiosidad.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We´ll land in Spain in ten days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It´s not the end of our exploring. It´s the beginning of a new chapter in our lives in which we´ll try to watch the known and the unknown with the same curiosity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-8073057807343372837?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#8073057807343372837</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SJrtPvdyLnI/AAAAAAAAATA/dVdqFR5Jo0M/s72-c/022507-800x530-coffee.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-8282987149227474379</guid><pubDate>Tue, 01 Jul 2008 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-07-17T09:37:56.884-03:00</atom:updated><title>São João em Cachoeira</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SGTd9tKeLUI/AAAAAAAAASE/GqILZbe_Czs/s1600-h/rdc_0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SGTd9tKeLUI/AAAAAAAAASE/GqILZbe_Czs/s400/rdc_0003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216538320567151938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Los cánones baianos (el &lt;a href="http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#1879469499032538517"&gt;Saci&lt;/a&gt; no tiene nada que ver: baiano sin hache) mandan que por las fiestas de San Juan hay que viajar al "interior" (interior es cualquier sitio que no sea Salvador, según hemos deducido). Elegimos Cachoeira. Una ciudad pacífica y tranquila, como se ve en la foto. Ya lo habíamos visitado hacía un tiempo, en nuestro verano, cuando pudimos comprobar que, en comparación, Death Valley en julio es una nevera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;El caso es que el fin de semana de San Juan Cachoeira estaba bastante más fresco, y también más movido. Una sopa de petardos con cacahuetes cocidos, forró&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;y pagode. Aquí abajo, una muestra de chavales moviendo el culo (muy bien, por cierto) alrededor de uno de tantos coches discoteca: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bahia's rules say you should go to the "interior" to celebrate São João festivities ("interior" means just about anyplace that's not Salvador, we've deduced). We chose Cachoeira. A quiet and calm place, as you can see in the picture above. We've visited it already a while ago, in our summer, when we found that, in comparison, Death Valley is a freezer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cachoeria was way cooler for São João's weekend -and less quiet. A big soup of steamed peanuts, fireworks, forró and pagode. Below, some young men moving their butts (wonderfully, by the way) at the rhythm of one of many disco-cars:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TquHt-7_qVA&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TquHt-7_qVA&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-8282987149227474379?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#8282987149227474379</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SGTd9tKeLUI/AAAAAAAAASE/GqILZbe_Czs/s72-c/rdc_0003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-1879469499032538517</guid><pubDate>Mon, 23 Jun 2008 21:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-23T19:12:02.642-03:00</atom:updated><title>Saci Pererê</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SFp1V-zVZvI/AAAAAAAAAR0/bpdx2R8FZy0/s1600-h/saciperere.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213608539130783474" style="cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SFp1V-zVZvI/AAAAAAAAAR0/bpdx2R8FZy0/s400/saciperere.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://static.boomp3.com/player.swf?song=dy7ro9p" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowscriptaccess="always" align="middle" height="20" width="200"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a style="font-size: 9px; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); letter-spacing: -1px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" href="http://boomp3.com/listen/dy7ro9p/elis-regina-and-caetano-veloso-%C3%81guas-de-mar%C3%A7o"&gt;boomp3.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Es negro, tiene una sola pierna, lleva un gorrito rojo y fuma en pipa. No es un marinero en tierra, sino el Saci Pererê, un delicioso personaje mitológico con poderes mágicos. Aparece y desaparece cuando le da la gana y le encanta gastar bromas: te distrae mientras cocinas y se te quema la comida o, en mi caso, me asusta mientras tecleo y voy y pongo una falta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Además de hacerse invisible a voluntad, el Saci puede convertirse en un Matitaperê&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; o &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Matita Pereira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;, un pájaro con un canto melancólico que parece proceder de ninguna parte. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;La leyenda dice que el Saci se desplaza en el interior de cualquier pequeño tornado que levante polvo. Missouri debe estar lleno, según esto, aunque imagino que la gente está demasiado ocupada de compras para darse cuenta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;El personaje siempre está presente en los cuentos infantiles, como esta obra que fui a ver con Ananda hace un tiempo (el Saci está a la izquierda).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.oas.org/children/mitos/Brasil/Mitos.html"&gt;Saci Pererê&lt;/a&gt; is a very playful character in Brazilian mythology. The color of his skin is black and he has only one leg. He is always depicted smoking a large pipe. He wears a red pointed hat, which gives him magical powers like the ability to appear or disappear whenever he wants to. He loves to play pranks like distracting people who are cooking so that the food burns on the stove or, in my case, startling me while typing so that I make a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides disappearing or becoming invisible (often with only his red cap and the red glow of his pipe still showing), the Saci can transform himself into a &lt;i&gt;Matitaperê&lt;/i&gt; or &lt;i&gt;Matita Pereira&lt;/i&gt;, an elusive bird whose melancholic song seems to come from nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Legend says inside every small tornado that raises dust and sweeps everything it finds in its way, there is a Saci Pererê. According to this, the Midwest must be full of them. Although I guess people is too busy shopping in the mall to notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKkwkOZp3I/AAAAAAAAAQc/K2lqhEP2wYo/s1600-h/rdc_0001_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206905273458468722" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKkwkOZp3I/AAAAAAAAAQc/K2lqhEP2wYo/s400/rdc_0001_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Me llama la atención porque es negro y cojo, y porque me gustaría tener su gorrito rojo para aparecer y desaparecer a voluntad o convertirme en ese pajarito melancólico. No sé de ningún personaje mitológico similar en mi cultura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Si no lo has hecho todavía, haz click en el icono de encima para escuchar la música. Elegí la canción porque menciona el Matita Pereira. Además, "Águas de Março" fue elegida como la mejor canción brasileña de todos los tiempos en una encuesta de hace unos años entre periodistas, músicos y otros artistas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm drawn to it because it's black and crippled, and because I´d love to have my own red cap to become invisible at will or transform myself into that mysterious little bird. I can't think of any similar mitological figure in my own culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven´t already, click on the icon above. I picked the song because it mentions the Matita Perereira. Plus &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Águas de Março&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(the song) was considered as one of the best Brazilians songs of all times by a poll of journalists and musicians a few years ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-1879469499032538517?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#1879469499032538517</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SFp1V-zVZvI/AAAAAAAAAR0/bpdx2R8FZy0/s72-c/saciperere.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-6333782712495959538</guid><pubDate>Wed, 18 Jun 2008 12:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-18T09:31:51.777-03:00</atom:updated><title>Palafitas y patinaje sobre hielo / Palafitas and ice-skating</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;"La buena conciencia es fruto de la mala memoria"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Good conscience arises out of bad memory)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/45/133381918_4d7f7a8358.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 400px;" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/45/133381918_4d7f7a8358.jpg?v=0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/45/133381918_4d7f7a8358.jpg?v=0"&gt;Imagen de &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mvitor/"&gt;MVitor&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;A mi eso de la palafita me sonaba a licor raro (ahora por San Juan tenemos el de Jenipapo, pero ya hablaré de eso en el próximo post) o a uno de esos innumerables pedruscos que teníamos que aprendernos en la E.G.B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;El otro día me topé con un modelo de palafita en un museo del Pelourinho. Estaba en el centro de una gran sala, rodeado de fotografías. Los visitantes nos acercábamos y lo mirábamos desde todos los ángulos con algo de recelo, como si se tratase de una de esas modernas instalaciones de arte en las que no hay quien entienda nada. Pero esto no era ninguna ida de olla. Esto había sido el hogar de una familia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;The name of Palafita reminded me of an exotic fruit, or one of those countless stones  we used to study in Elementary School.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;I found a real Palafita the other day, in a museum. The Palafita was in the middle of a big room, surrounded by pictures. Visitors would get close and observe it from every angle as if it were one of those incomprehensible modern art installations.  But this was nothing like it. This had been someone's home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKnv0OZp6I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/f9TyZyx4sCA/s1600-h/rdc_0001_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206908559108450210" style="" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKnv0OZp6I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/f9TyZyx4sCA/s400/rdc_0001_4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Otros modos de vida no mucho más amables, a pocas decenas de kilómetros de mi casa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Other sordid places to live, not far from my own home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SFjze4Q463I/AAAAAAAAARk/LeZh9bIuSHQ/s1600-h/rdc_0001_5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SFjze4Q463I/AAAAAAAAARk/LeZh9bIuSHQ/s400/rdc_0001_5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213184280506198898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SFjzfNj1jAI/AAAAAAAAARs/raMxmyKTLtw/s1600-h/rdc_0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SFjzfNj1jAI/AAAAAAAAARs/raMxmyKTLtw/s400/rdc_0002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213184286222814210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;En el diario &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.atarde.com.br/capa/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Tarde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; aparecen todos los días anuncios de promociones inmobiliarias como la de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Le Parc, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;una ciudad amurallada en las afueras con apartamentos de cuatro suites, piscinas climatizadas, canchas de tenis, gimnasios, salas sociales, etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The newspaper &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://www.atarde.com.br/capa/"&gt;A Tarde&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; has daily ads portraying closed-gates condominiums like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Le Parc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;. Four suites, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, tennis courts, gyms, gardens, etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media03.viwii.net/classifieds//60/a/4840302/large/2.jpg?rand=1794635796"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://media03.viwii.net/classifieds//60/a/4840302/large/2.jpg?rand=1794635796" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Mientras tanto en el Shopping Barra, el centro comercial más céntrico de la ciudad, montaron hace unos meses una pista de patinaje sobre hielo. El verano estaba entonces en su cénit, y la gente se derretía en las paradas de autobús. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;O sea que me iré de aquí sin comprender nada de nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, they installed an ice-skate ring in Shopping Barra (downtown) a few months ago. Summer was in its zenith then, and we would melt while waiting for the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've the feeling I´ll leave the country understanding nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-6333782712495959538?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#6333782712495959538</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKnv0OZp6I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/f9TyZyx4sCA/s72-c/rdc_0001_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-671705920938399267</guid><pubDate>Sun, 01 Jun 2008 13:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-06-01T11:48:14.510-03:00</atom:updated><title>Islands / Islas</title><description>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKwJkOZp-I/AAAAAAAAARU/7amYauXMB4s/s1600-h/rdc_0001_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206917797583103970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKwJkOZp-I/AAAAAAAAARU/7amYauXMB4s/s400/rdc_0001_3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ponta de Areia, in Itaparica Island, where Ananda and I celebrated our birthdays. Together, we´re younger than 20 each. Not bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Ponta de Areia, en la Isla de Itaparica, donde Ananda y yo celebramos nuestros cumpleaños. Tocamos a menos de 20 años cada una. No está mal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKwJkOZp_I/AAAAAAAAARc/minVq-5J5EM/s1600-h/rdc_0001_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206917797583103986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKwJkOZp_I/AAAAAAAAARc/minVq-5J5EM/s400/rdc_0001_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilha de Maré, a small island not far from Salvador reachable by "disco-boat." The video is too dark to see the details, but believe me: the speakers where almost bigger than the boat itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Aquí abajo, Ilha de Maré, una pequeña isla a la que se llega en un barco-discoteca, como se puede ver en el vídeo. No se ven muy bien en el vídeo, demasiado oscuro, pero creedme: los altavoces eran casi más grandes que el propio barco. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKmgEOZp4I/AAAAAAAAAQk/ms1JVpN9kwU/s1600-h/rdc_0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206907189013882754" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKmgEOZp4I/AAAAAAAAAQk/ms1JVpN9kwU/s400/rdc_0005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5a6Oz3yy96o&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5a6Oz3yy96o&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below Praia de São Tomé, where you get the boat in question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Aquí el cocedero de gambas que es Praia de São Tomé, desde donde se coge el barco en cuestión&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKmgEOZp5I/AAAAAAAAAQs/P7Esd6LkvWo/s1600-h/rdc_0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206907189013882770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKmgEOZp5I/AAAAAAAAAQs/P7Esd6LkvWo/s400/rdc_0006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-671705920938399267?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html#671705920938399267</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SEKwJkOZp-I/AAAAAAAAARU/7amYauXMB4s/s72-c/rdc_0001_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-6598219968621633089</guid><pubDate>Mon, 05 May 2008 14:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-05-09T08:11:22.969-03:00</atom:updated><title>Sueño</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SCQw0iBViWI/AAAAAAAAAQE/61yFYRSG0sE/s1600-h/red_0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198333548936137058" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SCQw0iBViWI/AAAAAAAAAQE/61yFYRSG0sE/s400/red_0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SB8dRFIqB-I/AAAAAAAAAP4/Uyig_5Ty8f8/s1600-h/red_0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Descobrir o além do sonho &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;o impensado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;o certo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;o mais que imaginado, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;o que os olhos buscan cubrir &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;no sonho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Ver em você, minha cara, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;minha cara interpretada: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;metade minha, metade clara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,0,0);font-size:85%;" &gt;Frederico Barbosa ("Cantar de Amor entre os escombros")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Descubrir lo que hay más allá del sueño, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;lo impredecible,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;lo certero,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;lo más que imaginado, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;lo que los ojos buscan cubrir &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;en el sueño. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Ver en ti mi cara, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;mi cara interpretada: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153)"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;mitad mía, mitad clara. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Frederico Barbosa ("Cantar de Amor entre os escombros")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-6598219968621633089?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#6598219968621633089</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SCQw0iBViWI/AAAAAAAAAQE/61yFYRSG0sE/s72-c/red_0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-6026865152623796123</guid><pubDate>Tue, 29 Apr 2008 15:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-04-29T12:57:55.652-03:00</atom:updated><title>Would you spend the night here? / ¿Pasarías la noche aquí?</title><description>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vG6L8I-ZcgQ&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vG6L8I-ZcgQ&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This place gave us the creeps. Next to the room shown in the video there was a crypt with carved skulls (you know, the pirate´s flag). It seemed to me at any minute one of the small crypts could pry open to teach us visitors a little bit of respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly, this happy place is located just a few meters apart from one of the busiest streets in Pelourinho. You can almost hear, as I'm sure the poor souls buried here do, the music and laughs of the patrons eating in the restaurants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Este sitio nos puso los pelos de punta. Al lado de la habitación que aparece en el vídeo había una cripta con calaveras grabadas en la piedra (al estilo de la bandera de los piratas). Me dio la sensación de que una de esas pequeñas tumbas podría abrirse en cualquier momento para enseñar a los visitantes un poco de respeto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Curiosamente, este alegre lugar está pegadito a una de las calles más animadas del Pelourinho. Desde ahí casi casi se escucha la música y las risas de los clientes de los restaurantes cercanos. Estoy segura de que esa es la penitencia de las pobres almas enterradas aquí.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-6026865152623796123?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#6026865152623796123</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-9042704839716749848</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Apr 2008 14:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-04-29T12:09:58.925-03:00</atom:updated><title>Vilarejo</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Há um vilarejo ali&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Onde areja um vento bom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Na varanda, quem descansa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Vê o horizonte deitar no chão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Pra acalmar o coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Lá o mundo tem razão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Terra de heróis, lares de mãe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Paraiso se mudou para lá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://static.boomp3.com/player.swf?song=aqx78xh" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowscriptaccess="always" align="middle" height="20" width="200"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a style="font-size: 9px; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); letter-spacing: -1px; text-decoration: none;" href="http://boomp3.com/listen/aqx78xh/14_marisa-monte-infinito-particular-02-vilarejo"&gt;boomp3.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="visibility: hidden; width: 0px; height: 0px;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/CIMP/bHQ9MTIwOTQ4MTUyMTc2NSZwdD*xMjA5NDgxNTUxNTQ2JnA9NzA3NTEmZD*mbj1ibG9nZ2VyJmc9MQ==.jpg" border="0" height="0" width="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R_Tk7H6NMPI/AAAAAAAAAOs/pGmSlwzYuqM/s1600-h/rdc_0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SBXz91IqB6I/AAAAAAAAAPY/wHhir4HXGd4/s1600-h/rdc_0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194325988802693026" style="cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SBXz91IqB6I/AAAAAAAAAPY/wHhir4HXGd4/s400/rdc_0003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've the closed-gates communities with its swimming pools and manicured lawns; the condos, the big hotels and nice Pousadas. And then you've the real thing. I failed to show these images before. I thought about this post while listening to Marisa Montes' &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-g83_ZRGM48"&gt;Vilarejo&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;a beautiful song about an ideal place (click on the icon above to listen to it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to this song for the first time in my Portuguese class a while ago. After that I wrote for a few minutes in my weak Portuguese about the place of my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm amazed with these people who're so clear about everything. I like the countryside and the city life; I love the ocean but miss the mountains; I'm drawn to the spontaneity of Brazilians but feel very close to US open mindedness and politeness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But obviously this confusion means nothing compared to reality. The reality of the woman in the picture below, for example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Están las comunidades cerradas (auténticas ciudades amuralladas con sus piscinas y su césped cuidado); los condominios; los grandes hoteles y las Pousadas, tan monas. Y después está la realidad. No sé por qué no colgué estas imágenes antes. Se me ocurrió escribir este post mientras escuchaba &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-g83_ZRGM48"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vilarejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, de Marisa Montes, una canción muy hermosa sobre un lugar ideal (pincha sobre el icono de más arriba para escucharla).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escuché esta canción por primera vez en mi clase de portugués, hace ya bastante tiempo. Después tuve que describir en mi pobre portugués cómo es el lugar de mis sueños.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me alucina esa gente que lo tiene todo tan claro. A mi me encantan el campo y la ciudad; me gusta el mar pero echo de menos las montañas; me atrae la espontaneidad de los brasileños pero me siento muy cómoda con la flexibilidad y respetuosidad de los estadounidenses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviamente, esta confusión no significa nada comparada con la realidad. La realidad de la mujer de aquí abajo, por ejemplo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SBXz-FIqB8I/AAAAAAAAAPo/keL7TKRzfko/s1600-h/rdc_0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194325993097660354" style="cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SBXz-FIqB8I/AAAAAAAAAPo/keL7TKRzfko/s400/rdc_0005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6noI3D1API/AAAAAAAAANo/WdyZ-48Imd4/s1600-h/rdc_0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SBXz-FIqB7I/AAAAAAAAAPg/60xvLBNQLnI/s1600-h/rdc_0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194325993097660338" style="cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SBXz-FIqB7I/AAAAAAAAAPg/60xvLBNQLnI/s400/rdc_0004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6noInD1AOI/AAAAAAAAANg/vn7H_o5B-ak/s1600-h/rdc_0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-9042704839716749848?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#9042704839716749848</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/SBXz91IqB6I/AAAAAAAAAPY/wHhir4HXGd4/s72-c/rdc_0003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-2821674514873527877</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Mar 2008 21:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-16T12:14:13.054-03:00</atom:updated><title>Praia 24 horas</title><description>&lt;object style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-A_Iz0thEU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-A_Iz0thEU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beach 24 hours: a floating stage set at a short distance from the beach, with shows all night long. I've never seen anything like that, probably never will. People swam back and forth from the beach to the stage while listening to the music. Magical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Playa 24 horas, una de esas cosas que sólo pueden vivirse en Salvador. Un escenario flotante a poca distancia de la playa. El público escuchaba el show desde el agua, de noche. Bañarse de noche es mágico, pero bañarse de noche mientras se escucha a Gal Costa es lo más. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praia 24 horas also had other amenities, like this hypnotizing street group. I loved them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Praia 24 horas también tenía otras atracciones, como este grupo de calle. Me quedé hipnotizada con ellos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/__rZWSvrzbk&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/__rZWSvrzbk&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-2821674514873527877?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#2821674514873527877</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-310750660146306780</guid><pubDate>Mon, 10 Mar 2008 14:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-10T11:29:42.346-03:00</atom:updated><title>Contact Improvisation / Baile improvisado de contacto</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4590/2214/400/divulga%20jam%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4590/2214/400/divulga%20jam%201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of all places, it turns out Salvador is big in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contact_improvisation"&gt;contact improvisation&lt;/a&gt;. I didn't even know this type of dance existed. So I was amazed to watch, in an old and wonderful building in the Pelourinho, the historic center, this bunch of people do... well, you better watch for yourself. Watch out for Ricardo, he's wearing a wine t-shirt and jeans...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Resulta que en Salvador parece llevarse bastante la &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contact_improvisation"&gt;danza improvisada de contacto&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;. No estoy segura de cómo se traduce al español. Hasta hace poco, ni siquiera sabía que existía. Por eso me quedé alucinada al ver, en un caserón antiguo del Pelourinho, el centro histórico de Salvador, a este montón de gente amontonada, arrebujada... En fin, mejor lo ves por ti mismo. Ahí está Ricardo, por cierto, lleva una camiseta color vino y vaqueros...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IRS2vfvuGDE"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IRS2vfvuGDE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-310750660146306780?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#310750660146306780</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-3816797664823708970</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 Feb 2008 23:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-27T20:26:45.399-03:00</atom:updated><title>Coco Verde</title><description>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;Considering they do this all day long, it's a miracle they don't chop all their fingers down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; Es un milagro que no se lleven todos los dedos por delante, sobre todo si se tiene en cuenta que esto es lo que hacen todo el día, a todas horas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VDEplPB5wsY&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VDEplPB5wsY&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-3816797664823708970?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#3816797664823708970</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-2348256277165736473</guid><pubDate>Sat, 16 Feb 2008 14:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-16T12:35:13.259-03:00</atom:updated><title>Bossa nova</title><description>Saturated as we were by the repetitive and loud Carnival music, the soft guitar of &lt;a href="http://www.mpbaderbalduarte.com/hist.htm"&gt;Aderbal Duarte &lt;/a&gt;, who played last Thursday, reminded us of the beauty and immense richness of Brazilian music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Estábamos bastante saturados de la música de Carnaval, estruendosa y repetitiva, así que la refinada guitarra de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.mpbaderbalduarte.com/hist.htm"&gt;Aderbal Duarte &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;, que tocó el jueves en Salvador, nos recordó lo bello y complejo de la música brasileña. Este vídeo se lo dedico a Jandro: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OIxe97KZvAE&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OIxe97KZvAE&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-2348256277165736473?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#2348256277165736473</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-346968742229215258</guid><pubDate>Fri, 08 Feb 2008 12:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-15T08:57:29.353-03:00</atom:updated><title>Carnaval (6) The Day After / El día después</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6xNOHD1ARI/AAAAAAAAAN4/-leOcGOJwGY/s1600-h/rdc_0001_6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6xNOHD1ARI/AAAAAAAAAN4/-leOcGOJwGY/s400/rdc_0001_6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164587777495728402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://static.boomp3.com/player.swf?id=6166de6b4de7" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowscriptaccess="always" align="middle" height="20" width="200"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rich, huge and complex... definitely very difficult to grasp. Carnival means different things to different people, and I can see why. But &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/pilarysergio.blogspot.com"&gt;Sergio's &lt;/a&gt;right. To me, it was like a giant San Fermin with people dancing instead of bulls running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were rivers of energy: this year's slogan was "The heart of the world beats here". Quite accurate. But underneath it all, as always, there were lakes of misery too, the kind that never shows up on TV or in the papers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tons of poor people take advantage of Carnival to gain a few reais selling beer and water. They sleep on the filthy streets, many times without even a sad mattress. And not only the sellers. The whole family camps for a few days in a dirty corner close to one of the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;circuitos&lt;/span&gt;. So you see small children lying on the stained floors, collecting empty cans and prey to the million decibels of the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;trios elétricos&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Ahora entiendo por qué este Carnaval es tan difícil de clasificar. Pero &lt;a href="http://pilarysergio.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sergio&lt;/a&gt; tiene razón. Algo tiene de fiestas de San Fermín, sólo que la gente ocupa el lugar de los toros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;La energía fluye por las calles (como dice el eslogan de este año, creo que muy acertado, "El corazón del mundo late aquí").  Pero por debajo de eso queda, como siempre, esa miseria que no suele salir en la tele ni en los periódicos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Un montón de gente humilde de la periferia aprovecha el Carnaval para ganar unos reales vendiendo cervezas y agua, principalmente. Duermen en las calles pestilentes, muchas veces sin siquiera un triste colchón. Y no se trata sólo de los vendedores. Familias enteras acampan durante unos días en cualquier esquina cercana a los circuitos. Así que hemos visto niños pequeños durmiendo en el suelo lleno de suciedad, recogiendo latas y sujetos a los millones de decibelios de los &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;trios elétricos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6nManD1ALI/AAAAAAAAANI/RyZE0aXyYNI/s1600-h/rdc_0002_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6nManD1ALI/AAAAAAAAANI/RyZE0aXyYNI/s400/rdc_0002_4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163883205290688690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6nMa3D1AMI/AAAAAAAAANQ/ddxIia388aA/s1600-h/rdc_0003_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6nMa3D1AMI/AAAAAAAAANQ/ddxIia388aA/s400/rdc_0003_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163883209585656002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-346968742229215258?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#346968742229215258</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6xNOHD1ARI/AAAAAAAAAN4/-leOcGOJwGY/s72-c/rdc_0001_6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-8613441751867628387</guid><pubDate>Wed, 06 Feb 2008 13:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-06T10:56:02.776-03:00</atom:updated><title>Carnaval (5) The crowds / Las huestes</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;"Atrás do trio elétrico só não vai quem já morreu..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Detrás del trio elétrico sólo no va quien ya murió)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Caetano Veloso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ricardo ventured the other day with a camera into the crowds after the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;trio elétrico &lt;/span&gt;Eva and took these pictures and video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Ricardo se aventuró con una cámara el otro día entre las huestes, detrás del &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;trio elétrico&lt;/span&gt; Eva, y tomó estas fotos y vídeo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz4nD1AGI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/QGUxTLgBnZc/s1600-h/rdc_0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz4nD1AGI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/QGUxTLgBnZc/s400/rdc_0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163856232896069730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz5HD1AHI/AAAAAAAAAMY/E3YFuLObc8Q/s1600-h/rdc_0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz5HD1AHI/AAAAAAAAAMY/E3YFuLObc8Q/s400/rdc_0003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163856241486004338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz5HD1AII/AAAAAAAAAMg/kt-dMKMRNmQ/s1600-h/rdc_0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz5HD1AII/AAAAAAAAAMg/kt-dMKMRNmQ/s400/rdc_0004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163856241486004354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz5XD1AJI/AAAAAAAAAMo/K_8hww1zQk4/s1600-h/rdc_0011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz5XD1AJI/AAAAAAAAAMo/K_8hww1zQk4/s400/rdc_0011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163856245780971666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BD9AT4A1Jto&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BD9AT4A1Jto&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="visibility: hidden; width: 0px; height: 0px;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/CIMP/Jmx*PTEyMDE4MDc1NjY4OTAmcHQ9MTIwMTgwNzU3NDUxNSZwPTcwNzUxJmQ9Jm49.jpg" ricardo="" ventured="" behind="" a="" border="0" height="0" width="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-8613441751867628387?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#8613441751867628387</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6mz4nD1AGI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/QGUxTLgBnZc/s72-c/rdc_0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-7968870268036314832</guid><pubDate>Mon, 04 Feb 2008 15:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-04T15:29:27.778-03:00</atom:updated><title>Carnaval (4) / Iemanjá</title><description>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GwkNlAsr5Kc&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time en decades, the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yemaja"&gt;Iemanjá &lt;/a&gt;festivities took place in the middle of Carnival. Thousands of people lined up at her shrine in Rio Vermelho last Saturday to offer tons of flowers, perfumes and soaps that are thrown into the ocean (she's the Orisha or deity in the Candomblé religion that represents the oceans and motherhood).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From an environmental point of view, it´s a wild ride into dirtiness and pollution in an already filthy city:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Por si no tuviéramos suficiente con Carnaval, este año, por primera vez en décadas, coincidió con la fiesta de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yemaja"&gt;Iemanjá &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;que se celebra el 2 de febrero. Toneladas de flores, perfumes y jabones (Iemanjá es una diosa muy presumida, supuestamente) se arrojan al agua (esta es la Orisha de la religión del Candomblé que representa los océanos y la maternidad).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Para los defensores del medio ambiente, la fiesta es una barbaridad. Si algo sobra en esta ciudad es, precisamente, basura:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6dXwnD1AFI/AAAAAAAAAMI/HWfPichQwSU/s1600-h/%23IMG_3898.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6dXwnD1AFI/AAAAAAAAAMI/HWfPichQwSU/s400/%23IMG_3898.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163191990433939538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the canal that gives name to the neighborhood, Río Vermelho (red river, more seemingly black river).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Este es el canal que da nombre al barrio, Río Vermelho, o sea Río Rojo que más bien es negro de la porquería que lleva. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-7968870268036314832?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#7968870268036314832</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6dXwnD1AFI/AAAAAAAAAMI/HWfPichQwSU/s72-c/%23IMG_3898.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-3138662112971151339</guid><pubDate>Fri, 01 Feb 2008 21:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-01T19:23:11.341-03:00</atom:updated><title>Carnaval (3)</title><description>&lt;object height="373" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z94-jfCs46c&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z94-jfCs46c&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="373" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we were yesterday, at the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;arrastrão dos Mascarados. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;We danced and walked and sweated. A lot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;oday we feel tired and even a bit sick, and the party has just started...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Aquí estábamos nosotros, en el &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;arrastrão dos Mascarados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;. Me recordó vagamente a las fiestas de los pueblos, una especie de Paquita la Chocolatera a lo bestia. Bailamos, caminamos y sudamos. Hoy nos encontramos muy cansados y hasta un poco enfermos, y eso que la fiesta no ha hecho más que comenzar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-3138662112971151339?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#3138662112971151339</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-3562312546053720501</guid><pubDate>Thu, 31 Jan 2008 15:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-31T16:56:04.810-03:00</atom:updated><title>Carnaval (2)</title><description>So the craziness starts tonite. We'll dress as clowns -sort of- and head to Bloco os Mascarados, with Margareth Menezes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;La locura comienza esta noche. Nos disfrazaremos de payasos (más o menos) para ir al Bloco os Mascarados, con Margareth Menezes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://static.boomp3.com/player.swf?id=f8212ceeaf24" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowscriptaccess="always" align="middle" height="20" width="200"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a style="font-size: 9px; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); letter-spacing: -1px; text-decoration: none;" href="http://boomp3.com/m/f8212ceeaf24"&gt;boomp3.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="visibility: hidden; width: 0px; height: 0px;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/CIMP/Jmx*PTEyMDE3ODk5OTIxMjUmcHQ9MTIwMTc4OTk5OTgxMiZwPTcwNzUxJmQ9Jm49.jpg" border="0" height="0" width="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems each baiano has a very different Carnival in mind, so we're looking forward to seeing with our own eyes what it's all about.  The city, anyway, has been upside down for many days now, partly because of huge &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;camarotes &lt;/span&gt;like this one, behind the Clube Espanhol (we've free access to this place just for being Spaniards, but that's another story) :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Parece que cada baiano vive el Carnaval de una manera bien diferente, así que tenemos muchas ganas de ver con nuestros propios ojos de qué va la movida. Por lo pronto la ciudad lleva patas arriba un montón de días, en parte por culpa de los gigantescos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;camarotes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;como el de aquí abajo, detrás del Clube Espanhol (tenemos acceso gratuito a este club por el mero hecho de ser españoles, pero esa es otra historia) : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" tabindex="11" onclick="return false;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6HsbXD1ADI/AAAAAAAAAL4/cK4VBeqMgwo/s1600-h/rdc_0001_5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6HsbXD1ADI/AAAAAAAAAL4/cK4VBeqMgwo/s400/rdc_0001_5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161666602733994034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what´s a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;camarote&lt;/span&gt;? It´s like a balcony from which you can watch the show and descend when you feel like it. Normally they include drinks and food, sometimes extras like haircuts. If you´re willing to pay, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out, to our surprise, that Carnival is far from free. People pay enormous amounts for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;camarotes &lt;/span&gt;o &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;abadás (&lt;/span&gt;the t-shirt that allows you to          parade with the bloco or group). You can always go for free, of course, but apparently you get pushed, pissed and dragged away. We´ll know pretty soon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bahia-online.net/Carnival.htm"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;¿Y qué es un camarote? Algo así como un balcón desde el que puedes ver el espectáculo y bajar con las masas cuando te apetezca. Normalmente incluyen bebida y comida y a veces extras como servicios de salón de belleza. Si estás dispuesto a pagar, claro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Resulta, para nuestra sorpresa, que el Carnaval es de pago. La gente desembolsa cantidades astronómicas por los &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;camarotes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;o los &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;abadás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; (las camisetas que dan acceso a los blocos o grupos). Siempre puedes ir gratis, claro, pero según algunas fuentes no demasiado fiables (ningún baiano lo es, a esta conclusión hace tiempo que llegamos) te empujan, te mean y te pasan por encima... Bueno, pronto lo sabremos.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-size: 9px; color: rgb(204, 204, 204); letter-spacing: -1px; text-decoration: none;" href="http://boomp3.com/m/793e5982728e"&gt;boomp3.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="visibility: hidden; width: 0px; height: 0px;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/CIMP/Jmx*PTEyMDE3OTE4MTEyNTAmcHQ9MTIwMTc5MTgxMzA2MiZwPTcwNzUxJmQ9Jm49.jpg" border="0" height="0" width="0" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://static.boomp3.com/player.swf?id=793e5982728e" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowscriptaccess="always" align="middle" height="20" width="200"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to know more about Salvador's Carnival, click &lt;a href="http://www.bahia-online.net/Carnival.htm"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Para más detalles sobre los intríngulis del Carnaval (en inglés), pincha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.bahia-online.net/Carnival.htm"&gt;aquí.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-3562312546053720501?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#3562312546053720501</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6HsbXD1ADI/AAAAAAAAAL4/cK4VBeqMgwo/s72-c/rdc_0001_5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-6607679193284959339</guid><pubDate>Sun, 20 Jan 2008 22:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-20T22:14:32.039-03:00</atom:updated><title>Carnaval (1)</title><description>It isn't here yet but you can feel it everywhere. Something big is definitely preparing to explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I've seen , to my surprise, many baianos who seem to detest Carnival. They´re feed up with windows trembling all week long -so much so you can´t watch TV at home, they assure-  getting their feet soaked in urine or being trapped in their apartments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for us, I´m afraid having a small child is far from ideal to enjoy Carnival... To get a small taste of what lies ahead, the other day we went to &lt;a href="http://ibahia.globo.com/festival/2008/atracoes/"&gt;Festival de Verao&lt;/a&gt;, which is one of the main Carnival preambles, so to speak. I was impressed with the huge crowds of fans of stars like &lt;a href="http://www.danielamercury.art.br/"&gt;Daniela Mercury&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://www.chicletecombanana.com.br/"&gt;Chiclete com Banana&lt;/a&gt;. I think if they've asked their followers to commit hara-kiri in that moment, half of them would have done so instantly. See below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Todavía no está aquí pero ya se siente en todas partes: algo gordo se está cociendo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; Por el momento he sabido, para mi sorpresa, de bastantes baianos que odian Carnaval. Están hartos del estruendo (las ventanas tiemblan tanto que es imposible ver la tele en casa, según cuentan), de empaparse en orines al salir a la calle o quedarse atrapados en sus casas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; En cuanto a nosotros, me temo que con Ananda no podremos disfrutar todo lo que quisíeramos del evento... Para hacernos una idea de lo que nos espera, el otro día fuimos al &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://ibahia.globo.com/festival/2008/atracoes/"&gt;Festival de Verao&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;, un gran sarao preámbulo de Carnaval. Me quedé impactada con grupos como &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.danielamercury.art.br/"&gt;Daniela Mercury&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; o &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.chicletecombanana.com.br/"&gt;Chiclete com Banana&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;. Creo que si les hubieran pedido a sus fans que se hicieran el hara-kiri en ese momento, la mitad no lo habría dudado ni un instante. Como en el fútbol, vamos:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mHKTJL8AZSo&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mHKTJL8AZSo&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-6607679193284959339?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#6607679193284959339</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-8597100618609645280</guid><pubDate>Wed, 16 Jan 2008 11:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-01T19:31:56.881-03:00</atom:updated><title>Sunset / Puesta de sol</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6OdwXD1AEI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Rdu9pjwDKGo/s1600-h/rdc_0001_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6OdwXD1AEI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Rdu9pjwDKGo/s400/rdc_0001_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162143052046073922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:12;color:maroon;"   &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jhUxoQ0jI/AAAAAAAAALM/jn-drydIitU/s1600-h/rdc_0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jhUxoQ0jI/AAAAAAAAALM/jn-drydIitU/s400/rdc_0002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154617520561377842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Have you ever seen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;in your life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;more wonderful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;than the way the sun,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;every evening,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;relaxed and easy,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;floats toward the horizon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; into the clouds or the hills, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; or the rumpled sea, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                           &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; and is gone (...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3187/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Mary Oliver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3187/"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss so many things from my former life. The library behind my house. Valencia street. Biking in Pacifica. Brunches. My rocking chair. And, of course, the people. But it feels so good to take a swim at sunset when you´re drowning in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;saudade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they're at the beach, Brazilians, or at least baianos, say goodbye to the day clapping enthusiastically. Which shows, I think, an appreciation for life that isn't easy to see in other places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Echo de menos un montón de cosas de mi antigua vida. La biblioteca detrás de mi casa. La calle Valencia. Los paseos en bici por Pacífica. Mi mecedora. Y, por supuesto, la gente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero sienta tan bien bañarse al atardecer cuando una se está ahogando en &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;saudade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Cuando están en la playa, los brasileños, o por lo menos los baianos, se despiden del día aplaudiendo con mucha energía. Lo que muestra, creo, un gusto por la vida que no es fácil observar en otros lugares. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zEFKQJ6j0h0&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zEFKQJ6j0h0&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-8597100618609645280?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#8597100618609645280</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R6OdwXD1AEI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Rdu9pjwDKGo/s72-c/rdc_0001_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-1849650596246296407</guid><pubDate>Sat, 12 Jan 2008 15:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-12T12:47:01.917-03:00</atom:updated><title>Sitio do Conde</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jeLRoQ0gI/AAAAAAAAAK0/s8jQP4BD1FQ/s1600-h/rdc_0001_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jeLRoQ0gI/AAAAAAAAAK0/s8jQP4BD1FQ/s400/rdc_0001_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154614058817737218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jeLBoQ0fI/AAAAAAAAAKs/mER-veVCi_g/s1600-h/rdc_0002_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jeLBoQ0fI/AAAAAAAAAKs/mER-veVCi_g/s400/rdc_0002_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154614054522769906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jgSBoQ0iI/AAAAAAAAALE/ddocAYBntGY/s1600-h/rdc_0001_4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jgSBoQ0iI/AAAAAAAAALE/ddocAYBntGY/s400/rdc_0001_4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154616373805109794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent our Christmas day in a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pousada &lt;/span&gt;at Sitio do Conde, two hours North of Salvador. I´m posting this images just to make you jealous. Poor soul freezing in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our snow man was definitely not in his element.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Pasamos el Día de Navidad en una &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;pousada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; a unas dos horas al norte de Salvador.  Coloco estas imágenes sólo para dar a envidia a esos pobrecitos congelados en Europa o EEUU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuestro muñeco de nieve definitivamente no estaba en su elemento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-1849650596246296407?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#1849650596246296407</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R4jeLRoQ0gI/AAAAAAAAAK0/s8jQP4BD1FQ/s72-c/rdc_0001_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-7669598745101608944</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2008 12:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-03T11:49:44.641-03:00</atom:updated><title>2008</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R3zQQBoQ0cI/AAAAAAAAAKI/QKgTG_EVBJk/s1600-h/20080102elpepuvin_1.jpg.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R3zQQBoQ0cI/AAAAAAAAAKI/QKgTG_EVBJk/s400/20080102elpepuvin_1.jpg.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151221047538799042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://polaf.blogspot.com/"&gt;P.&lt;/a&gt; says maybe it's about time to dare and do what she really wants. Sounds to me like a good starting point for the  new year. Although to do what you really want could be, I think, way more difficult than to do what others want. Follow the stream. First you'd have to know what you want. And how many people even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;think &lt;/span&gt;about that? The majority of us are too busy working, writing emails, buying new appliances for the kitchen. Amusing ourselves to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strolling through the Pelourinho on Monday, the last day of the year, we met Leão, a painter whose works are exposed in the streets. He's a very tall and black man with pierced ears. He certainly has a lion's aura around him. But he's very sweet, too, with a soft voice that shows a mellowness and wisdom within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. He has the following quote posted in his stand, attributed to the Dalai Lama. I'm not sure it actually belongs to the Dalai Lama, probably not, but I like it anyway:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;"What surprises you most about mankind? the Dalai was asked. And he said:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;That  they lose their health to make money, and then lose their money to restore their  health. That by thinking anxiously about the future they forget the present, such  that they live neither for the present nor the future. That they live as if they  will never die, and they die as if they had never lived."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;P. dice en su&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://polaf.blogspot.com/"&gt; blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; que ya es hora de atreverse y hacer lo que realmente quiere. Me parece un buen propósito para el nuevo año. Aunque hacer lo que uno realmente quiere es, creo, muchísimo más difícil que hacer lo que otros quieren. Que dejarse llevar por la corriente. Primero tienes que saber qué es eso. Y la mayoría ni siquiera piensa sobre ello. Están, estamos, demasiado ocupados trabajando, poniendo la cocina, escribiendo e-mails.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Paseando por el Pelourinho el lunes, el último día del año, conocimos a Leão, un pintor que expone, como casi todos los artistas de por aquí, en la calle. Es un tipo muy alto y muy negro con muchos pendientes en las orejas y en la nariz. Desde luego tenía un cierto aura de león. Pero también me pareció muy dulce, con una voz suave que dejaba adivinar sabiduría y madurez interior. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;El caso es que, junto a sus cuadros, Leão tenía esta cita, atribuida al Dalai Lama. No creo que realmente sea del Dalai Lama, seguramente es una de esas citas que todo el mundo menos yo ha leído cien veces, pero me gusta de todas maneras:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;"¿Qué es lo que más le sorprende de la Humanidad?, preguntaron al Dalai Lama.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Su respuesta fue:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Los hombres… Porque pierden la salud para ganar dinero, después pierden el dinero para recuperar la salud.  Y, por pensar ansiosamente en el futuro, se olvidan del presente, de tal forma que acaban por no vivir ni en el presente ni en el futuro. Y viven como si nunca fuesen a morir… y mueren como si nunca hubiesen vivido".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-7669598745101608944?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#7669598745101608944</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_WMbNwFwVCyI/R3zQQBoQ0cI/AAAAAAAAAKI/QKgTG_EVBJk/s72-c/20080102elpepuvin_1.jpg.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7343691444070861905.post-861470839569805067</guid><pubDate>Sat, 22 Dec 2007 01:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-22T22:56:54.607-03:00</atom:updated><title>Christmas / Navidad</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Tristeza não tem fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Felicidade sim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;A felicidade é como a pluma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Que o vento vai levando pelo ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Voa tão leve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Mas tem a vida breve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Precisa que haja vento sem parar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(La tristeza no tiene fin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;La felicidad sí&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;La felicidad es como una pluma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que el viento lleva por el aire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vuela tan ligera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pero tiene vida breve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Requiere que haya viento sin parar)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's Christmas and we're away from home. I mean, our various homes. Even though I don't buy any of it, I can't help but feeling a little bit sad. I´ve realized lately that Brazilian songs I've been listening to since the beginning of times have beautiful lyrics. Full of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;saudade, &lt;/span&gt;in many cases. Like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Felicidade&lt;/span&gt; (Happiness):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Es Navidad y estamos lejos de casa. De nuestras varias casas, quiero decir. Aunque me importa un pepino todo esto, no puedo evitar sentirme un poco triste. Últimamente me he dado cuenta de que algunas canciones de&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; bossa nova&lt;/span&gt; que llevo escuchando toda la vida tienen letras preciosas. Llenas de &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;saudade&lt;/span&gt;, en muchos casos. Como &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Felicidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; (Felicidad):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" id="radioblog_player_-1" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=.8yck5WdvN3L1hmL3VnLhdWasVmY/Vinicius%2520de%2520Moraes-A%2520Felicidade.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;" height="23" width="180"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's OK if you don't understand the lyrics. Just listen to it and send us good vibes. I'm doing the same. Merry Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;No importa si no entiendes lo que dice (eso de que el español y el portugués son muy parecidos es un camelo). Escúchala y envíanos buenas vibraciones. Yo ya lo estoy haciendo. Feliz Navidad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7343691444070861905-861470839569805067?l=deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://deaquiparaalla.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html#861470839569805067</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Natalia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item></channel></rss>