signs of life

People underestimate the power of language. Especially the language we use ourselves. English teacher, yes I am. But this dissimilar musing came nowhere from my current job.

November and December are disillusionment months for teachers and my mind has been filled with have to's of my existence. This is blind faith.


When the alarm rings I don't have to wake up, I choose to keep my job. During my walk I think I have to go to school again, and I have to turn left across a crosswalk to get there. Again, I am choosing to do my job, and there are mathematically infinite ways to get to work, I just tend to choose the most convenient.

In Brazil, I think I have to give the sinal de vida (signal of life) when crossing the street to tell a two-passenger Fiat to stop and slow down. This time, I am actually choosing to make point intentionally, like Adam to Jehovah, so I am not squished by the diminutive car.

I go into the masculino bathroom instead of the feminine because I want to avoid embarrassment and save time. Plus I like urinals. I walk into my class instead of Jamey Wolverton's because I chose to teach English and not geometry (God bless rhombuses).

Bad faith: Belief based on assumptions that take the freedom, inspiration and fun out of existence. This is my walk to school. These are my choices. No complaints.

The Candango

I (Mark) have been developing a journalism course here at ye olde Escola Americana de Brasília. While we've had some liftoff turbulence, we finally managed to get Volume 1.1 of our first newsletter published. It's called "The Candango," after the tall-skinny individuals pictured to the right of the logo. Candango was the epithet given to these guys and all the other gente that came to this chunk of dirt 50 years ago and built a city.

So despite some flagrant typos and design flaws, the students seemed pretty happy to see their words in print and in circulation: We've started strong with 1,000 copies, so a few our glossies may even grace the waiting-room tables dental offices in the superquadras near the school.

We don't have an online version of the magazine yet, but we're keeping a blog. If you follow the link, the most recent entry is a question the students are posing to create a "crowdsourced" article--where a net community provides all the incident reports/anecdotal info needed to make an article.

The title piece for the December/Christmas issue is going to be made entirely of comments posted to the question, "What does Christmas mean to you?" If you have a spare second or five, follow the link and leave a comment. I'm sure they'd love to hear from some of my North American compatriots.

I know we're (and by we're I mean I'm) doing a lackluster job at (a) keeping in touch, and (b) giving the play-by-play of life in the world capital for UFO enthusiasts and purveyors of magic crystals (we hear Brasília is also known for its important political role in Brazilian affairs). The aforementioned blog, coupled with a harrying work-pace has kept us hunkered down in our classrooms. But the end of this first dogged leg is near: We'll to the coast over Thanksgiving, and we'll be in San Diego as of December 19th.

We'll see you down the road.

m e v