Tale as old as time...

I'm listening to Beauty and the Beast right now. I was reminded of it when I was looking at pictures of Katie's myspace. She passed away a few weeks ago in a car accident. I couldn't believe it and my stomach still hurts thinking about it.
Here is the long update. But not sure how long it's actually gonna be because I am not feeling like blogging, still, but am forcing myself to.
For Easter we went to this Passion of the Christ play about 3 hours in the interior. It's like the biggest Passion play in the world or something...or at least the space they use to perform is the biggest in the world. This is how it works: 20,000 people (maybe only 5,000) crowd to get as close as they can to the stage which is the size of a football field, stand at that scene for 20 minutes, right before it finishes, run along with the other thousands of people to the next scene trying not to get trampled on. It actually wasn't that bad and it was at night, which means is was pretty cool temperature. I won't go into the added Brasilian sex scene at Harrod's palace that Emily and I still joke about or the fact that Jesus and Mary were actual tv/film stars here in Brasil and people were trying to grab them as they passed. I took pictures, a few that turned out pretty well, then they all got deleted when I tried to put them onto someone elses computer.
I just set up a countdown to put on my myspace...counting down the days 'till I leave. 88 as of today.
SO....back to the story. We were riding in the car back to Recife the day after the play when I called my house to see if my host mom was there or not. She said she might be going to her daughter's beach house for the week. No one answered. I called the neighbor. "Where is Roca?" "She went to Rio." "Liar. Where is she for real?" "She's in Rio! I wouldn't lie to you." "Whatever! Seriously, where the heck is Roca??" I didn't believe her. So I called Aline (other daughter). "Where is your mom?" "In Rio de Janeiro." "OH MY GOSH!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Number one. You have to know that Roca and I always joke about going to Rio. Like just getting a taxi to the airport and going. In fact, the day before I left for the interior her and I lied to Rayanne telling her we were both going to Rio for Easter. Number two. That morning I had gotten a call from some friends in Janga (where I live) saying that they changed their plans for the 23rd time! and that they were after all going to Natal (this beautiful beach I still haven't been to up north). I was mad at Brasilians about how it is IM-POSSIBLE to make plans because they freakin' always changed their stupid minds. THEN, I hear that Roca went to Rio without me?!?!?!
Long story short, I found out Deborah (rich daughter) paid for her and her mom to go to Rio for a week. They said they tried calling and really wanted me to go, too. I bought a plane ticket and went. I had planned on going anyway, but in May. But I thought "heck...if I don't go now, I don't know who I will stay with in May..ummm..I'll just go!" I left 2 days later. I stayed with a cousin of my family in an apartment in a neighborhood called Tijuca. The day I left for recife (a week later) there was this HUGE shooting in that neighborhood, but not the usual favela shootings. Some big deal with these big business guys/mafia. Didn't really understand just was thanking God I wasn't there....even though every night after I went to sleep I heard more gun shots there than I have all the times added up in Recife. Rio is a lot more dangerous.
There are way too many adventures to tell about the 6 days I was there. I met so many people including and girl from London who totally was my encouragement to live it up even though I was there alone. So that's what I did....safely, of course. And went hang gliding.
The day after I got back to Recife I ate a coxinha (these amazing little chicken tear drops..that's what they look like at least....more like a giant chicken nugget) off the street like I usually do. I went to Deborah's apt. that night and didn't stop with the squirts every 15 minutes until the next morning....and vomitting as well. I thought I was going to die. UGH! I hate that feeling. It was horrible horrible horrible.
Tiago is this little tough kid at my project. He is black black and acts sweet and then in a split second acts like he's going to karate chop your head off...just joking of course, but it's kinda freaky. His mom, whom I knew, died 2 weeks ago because of respiratory problems. It wasn't his birth mom, but he always lived with her. His dad is in prison. Now he's living with another kid, Val, at the project and his mom, who is actually one of the few good moms. I dont' think Tiago missed even one day of the project. Pray for him.
Today was a frustrating day. I woke up too lazy to go run/walk and was mad because of that thinking "why can't I just make myself do things like this?" Then little Alana, my 4 year old host sister, kept bugging me asking me for all my things and to put makeup on her and when I kep saying no she puts her hand up in my face and says, "ta bom. ta bom." (fine, okay, whatever). Her little attidude is so funny because she thinks she's like 8. Then she kept threatening me that if I didn't give her what she wanted she was never going to talk to me again or give me cookies. This was all fun and cute until lunch. Roca made black beans for her today, which she requested yesturday. She sits at the table and decides that there is too much food on her plate. So Roca takes some away. Alana still insists that there is just too much. Roca says, no and that she needs to eat it all. Alana runs into the living room and does her pouting screaming shouting routine. Then her parents give in! They do this all the time! I cannot stand it! Like HELLO??? Don't you know how this girl is going to turn out if you keep doing this? There are lots of other worse examples of how they are raising her, but can't think of them right now...I always think about them when they are happening and want to include them in a blog, but it never works out. Maybe I'm being too judgemental, but it just adds to all my other "dislikes" about this culture. ANYway, 88 days left and I gotta go eat some soup!
I know I left lots out, so I'll probably be editing this post sooner or later.
OH, and I've been hearing from other SALTer's that acne is not only happening here in Brasil as well as the horrible child raising methods. That's been encouraging.