Abrams Family World Travel

Boipeba: Island Retreat

WE had been told about a little island paradise just off the mainland from Valença called Boipeba. All our friends that had made the journey there came back to Piracanga with a sparkle in their eye.

What was so magical about this place with 300 inhabitants? Could it be because it is a well-known ecological haven that houses a diverse aray of flora and fauna? Or possibly the tranquil beaches created by the surrounding reefs?

We had to find out for ourselves.

Getting to Boipeba from Itacare was fairly straightforward. Buses leave from Itacare every hour for Valença. Journey time is around 2 1/2-3 hours. Then once in Valença, you have to make your way to the Terminal Hidroviario. Take a taxi from bus station for R12, but it's walkable if you don't have mountains of luggage, taking around 10-15 minutes on foot.

There are two options by boat to Boipeba island - fast and slow. We opted for the quick route (one hour journey time) at a cost of R35 per adult. It can get a little chilly (with the wind) and choppy (depending on your driver).

There are lots of options for places to stay. Pousadas are everywhere. But if you're vegan, like us, we'd recommend you get a place with a kitchen. Eating out can be a problem off-season, but even when most restaurants are closed there are still options - more so in the evening when the acaraje (falafel-type fried balls made from black-eyed bean paste) and tapioca stands open for business.

Of course, the real attraction of this island is the beaches - and there are plenty. The water is shallow (great for children) and the sand clean.

Serra Grande: Living On Light (Week 3)

I CAN see now why the final seven days are described as the ‘Mental Week’ more so than ‘The Resurrection’.

The 19^th day was testing for me in so far as my mind began to lose focus and I started looking ahead to the finish with it being so near.

Only on this day did I lose my sense of being centred, though. On the whole, the last week was a coming together of all the elements I had experienced.

The ‘process’ had given me a clearer definition of my sense of happiness and fulfillment, the experience of being in a deeper and prolonged state of stillness and of living in the moment, without wanting or needing.

I didn’t realise how much pleasure could be had from doing so little and simply enjoying whatever experience came along.

When silence and emptiness becomes uncomfortable often the impulse is to get busy. Mine was to remain quiet and still.

There was something therapeutic about observing and being with nature, especially surrounded by forest. I was certainly very alert and switched on. All my senses seemed to be operating on what felt like a higher frequency. Often I couldn’t sleep as my mind was so active.

I noticed I had become gentler and kinder to myself. I felt mentally very strong, as if the whole experience had expanded my mind, nourished my soul and lifted my spirits.

The final two days were stormy (lashing rain and then a fierce, chilly wind) but inside I maintained calmness. I stayed in the tent mostly, warm under my blankets. What a contrast, I thought, to how I’d felt not too long ago in Piracanga, where outside it was sunny and gloriously beautiful, but in my head space the clouds were gloomy.

It confirmed to me that any situation or place is only as happy or beautiful as the thoughts you have about it. Even mosquitos buzzing around my head!

Everything is a projection of our thoughts. The mosquitos eventually became my playmates. I’d sit in my hammock, they’d try to make me their acupuncture cushion and I’d attempt to clap them. Not very Zen-like, I admit – only if you do it with anger. But I noticed my sight, timing and speed of hand improving quickly. I observed the different types of mosquito, how they moved and their patterns. I got to know them well.

Little could dampen my spirits, it seemed. I really started to comprehend more fully author Byron Katie when she says ¨Everything is perfect as it is.” The more you accept, the more perfect you see the world for what it is. So I looked to the present moment, which is where life is really happening – always!

I realized I had been fighting reality every time I opposed my circumstances and the result of this was stress. Now I try to graciously accept where I am and what is taking place.

I recognize for me that happiness and healthfulness come when there is an absence of stress (the worrying, conflict type). I’d had 21 largely stress-free days and that in itself made this experience worthwhile. I accepted that my happiness is solely MY responsibility.

The sense of feeling ‘lost’ no longer resides in me. I don’t feel at all directionless even though beyond England for Christmas I haven’t a fixed destination for where I will be. But tomorrow I might. Or the day after. I trust in myself and life. As scientist Alan Kay once said, "The best way to predict the future is to invent it."

I’m happy to be in Piracanga, London or wherever. And now when I think of the last two years travelling with my family, I see it as the best time of my life.

However, while the ‘process’ was for me powerful on so many levels, physically, it was very weakening. I was not even close to the level of fitness at the end as when I started.

I did my best to accelerate my physical revival by working out daily, doing push-ups, chin-ups and squats. I swam, practiced yoga and walked. I was always mindful not to do too much. My routines were short, but intense.

I got progressively stronger, but my body was thin and often drained. I felt less thirsty than in the second week and drank less. Hunger was never a factor. I didn’t think of food. The fresh juices were more concentrated, perhaps explaining why I consumed less. But on some days I woke up having had nothing for what must have been 14 hours or more and felt fine. I now know I won’t ever starve.

I liked that I was able to enjoy living in a natural bodily rhythm. I didn’t drink because ít was time’. I realize how much my desires to eat and drink are mental rather than physical.

However, I have no desires to stop eating even though I feel sure that I could – at least in the short-term – and that drinking juices never gave me that heavy feeling you get when eating too much and the digestive system is overloaded.

I enjoy food – the preparing and sharing, the taste, smells and social interaction around it. I will seek to find a healthy balance. I realise the wrong foods can make you sick, too much food can leave you tired and not enough makes you weak.

Living on juices only, I peed more than ever in my life. This made sleeping problematic as on average I would be up five times every night. Often, though, I’d sleep in the mornings, by when my bladder was empty, and towards the end of the week my dreams became clearer and more vivid. Although I didn’t sleep well, I felt rested.

The ‘process’ felt like a long and short experience at the same time. It’s hard to explain fully, but I am sure we have all had that sensation. I came to really enjoy sitting in the forest house for hours in my hammock cross-legged. I never picked up a book or, surprisingly for me, tried to do any drawing. I spent time just watching.

This was a transformative journey I can’t imagine I will ever forget. I hope – and trust – it lives on in me. Little would I know how much the day after I finished my resolve would be thoroughly tested. More on that in a blog to follow.

I owe special thanks to my beautiful wife, Jamie, who not only lovingly takes care of my family, but supports me, shares my visions, gives me the freedom to be myself and opportunities to explore my potential. I love you.

Thank you, too, to Silvia, who supported me, welcomed me to her home and on to her land and provided me with the gift of this chance to grow, evolve and understand myself and humankind more fully.

*Anyone interested in doing the ‘process’with Silvia can contact her by email - portalsilvia@yahoo.com.br - to discuss it further. She speaks Portuguese, English, French and Spanish.

Serra Grande: Living On Light (Week 1)

I SAID farewell to Jamie and the kids at the airport, jumped in a cab and went to Ilheus town centre for some food (last supper around 3.30pm) before hopping in another taxi for the bus terminal.

The driver, who spoke some English and liked The Beatles (which he played for me) offered to take me direct. His price R70.

I declined, saying I had time and it was much cheaper by bus. Eventually his price came down to R40, so I agreed, provided he dropped me at the door of the farm Borboleta Azul (Blue Butterfly) owned by my guide Silvia, who, with the least interference possible, would nurture me through the ‘process’.

Off we went, me with only an approximate idea of the road to my final destination until we reached Serra Grande and I pointed him towards where I thought we needed to go.

The road was dusty, unpaved, lined with rocks and pot-holes, though not as poor as the Piracanga Road. I could hear the driver muttering to himself discontentedly as his car took a semi-beating, especially on the two occasions we got stuck and his wheels kept spinning and I needed to get out and push.

Eventually, I decided we best ask for directions and a family on the road offered to help, joining us in the car and taking us all the way only to find Silvia wasn’t there (she was waiting for me in Serra Grande – I’d said I would call her when I arrived).

So we turned back to the family’s house – a concrete shell, no beds, but good satellite TV – where I waited.

As for the taxi driver: I got out his money, but he asked me for R100, showing me the meter, which he had kept running (and was at R130). I agreed the trip was rough on his car, but reminded him we’d made an agreement. I gave him R60. Begrudgingly, he accepted.

He did at least honour calling Silvia for me when he reached a point where his mobile phone picked up a signal.

About an hour later a lady living at Silvia’s picked me up and showed me to the room where I would be staying for the first 11 days. It was basic. No electricity. A compost toilet. No doors.

But I wasn’t here for the luxury. It didn’t matter to me. Later Silvia arrived. We talked, had some coconut water and then it was off to bed. I slept about 12 hours (estimated).

The ‘process’ began at midnight and would end at the same time 21 days later. The first week there is no food or liquid. The second week I could have diluted juice (one part fruit, three parts water) and coconut water. The third week the juice is more concentrated (40 per cent fruit).

For me this was a journey of self-discovery, to explore my limits and to also experience the depth of this ‘process’ called Living On Light.

I’d never done anything like this before. I’d fasted several times for 24 hours only on water or vegetable juice.

It’s important to understand these are only my interpretations and experiences. The first seven days, sometimes referred to as ‘The Surgery’, are about the physical.

I found not consuming food or water challenging in moments, but these phases surprisingly soon passed. I was more thirsty than I was hungry. Having a heavy cold, too, didn’t help, but this quickly went.

By the end of the sixth day my mouth and lips were dry, seriously parched (hence the silly grin in the photo above). But I had no hunger. I still peed every day.

The week began slowly. I had no rhythm. The first day I spent mostly inside, bedding down and nesting. I recall the first two days seeming to last forever and wondering how on earth I was going to complete 21.

But by the fifth and sixth days time was moving swiftly. Something had changed effortlessly and beautifully within me.

I had stopped resisting – resisting the ‘process, counting the days, thinking of time. In the first few days I had tried to fill my hours, as we’ve been conditioned to do. I picked up books and read. I journaled (a lot). But by the end of the week I didn’t feel to read any more. I was content and comfortable just being, whether it was sitting on a fallen tree in the lake, in my hammock or by the lakeside.

Thoughts would come and go. It didn’t matter. There was no critical judgement or interpretation. Just acceptance. I let things unfold naturally.

My only difficulty was sleeping. The forest orchestra really made a concert each night. It sounded like a 100 horses on cobbled streets blowing whistles and playing drums. I had to wait each night until the racket finished before I could properly rest on my bed which felt as if it had no mattress.

Maybe as the flesh reduced on my 6ft frame I could feel my boney physique more. But really I didn’t lose as much weight as I thought I would. My face didn’t become drawn-looking until the third day.

I would combat thirst by gargling with water and rinsing my mouth when swimming in the lake. I felt fine swimming – it seemed to energize me – but walking was arduous. My legs felt weary from Day 2. My balance was distorted.

Each day I did some yoga, but nothing demanding. The first week is about rest. I slept a lot during the day, tying up a hammock between trees.

Silvia advised me that from Day 4 I should three times a day take two-hour rests until the week was over, trying not at all to move. This I did.

However, I often felt breathless and as if I couldn’t even lift my legs when walking. My diaphragm felt as if it had shrunk.

Each action and step was becoming slower and deliberate. I was mindful of my every motion. My resting heartbeat seemed more rapid. My handwriting improved as I noticed I kept pace with my thinking. I didn’t sweat.

Every day was a blank page. I didn’t have to check my diary. The days were not divided by meal times. There was waking up, whenever that was, and 5pm, when I would meet with Silvia for sharing and meditation (she’d usually ring a bell). Promptly after I would go to bed as darkness moved in.

I didn’t have any extraordinary revelations. More so, I thought of food and delicious recipes I wanted to make and consume. Sometimes I’d even cherish food I no longer really ate, like melted peanut butter on toast with tea (the milky kind). Other times it was food I was looking forward to after the ‘process’ - chocolate mousse, falafel sandwich.

Later in the week, as thirst became stronger than hunger, all I thought of was watermelon, coconut water, tangerines and juicy oranges.

The ‘process’ is about breaking conditionings and we have many, of which our eating habits are perhaps the strongest.

I tried not to force anything. “This is a hospital and you are the patient,” Silvia would say to me as a way of helping me to understand I should trust in the ‘process’.

Trust I did. And by the end of the week, with my stomach feeling as if it had shrunk to the size of a pea, I came to take my first sip of water.

It tasted so good I almost felt like crying. “This [appreciation] is what the ‘process’ teaches you,” said Silvia.

 

Piracanga: Life Outside Of The Mosquito Net

IT seems hard for me to imagine that today I will be experiencing life outside of the mosquito net, leaving Piracanga - my home for the last nine months - and entering the realm of the outside world.

Admittedly, I have been ready to move on for quite some time. The basic and remote living conditions have worn away at me. As much as I would like to say I am above creature comforts and a total trooper, I would be lying if I did. By blood, I am still a westerner and with that comes certain desires. 

I also wish I could say my time in Piracanga was a blissful one, but being here has twisted and turned me inside out several times over.

When we first arrived here so many people talked about the powerful energy of the place. I was quite cynical and thought, 'Come on, this is no different to any other beachy place'. I can now scoff at my own naivety. 

Piracanga has plenty of beauty - river, ocean, beach, nature and, most of all, the people that live and visit here.

But in Piracanga there is no escape or distraction. You are constantly being held in front of a mirror, pushing you to examine every nook and cranny of your being.

While I am all for introspection and self-growth, there comes a point where the mirror needs to be momentarily put down and you can get comfortable with yourself again before continuing your process.

I had a small glimpse of this on our recent family break to Boipeba (blogs to follow).

Within a day of returning, though, I could see clearly how much my time in Piracanga had been a gift.

As a family we've had a lot of low points. However, it's been a huge learning curve on every level: mentally, physically and spiritually.

Leaving Piracanga today leaves me with mixed emotions. This is the birthplace of my gorgeous daughter, home to many beautiful people I call my friends and the place where my son associates the word 'home' with.

I have many inner tugs to Piracanga and Brazil. But my 'homesick' side is pulling me out from underneath my mosquito net, asking to be in the embrace of my beloved family and friends in London.

Am I ready for the comfortable beds, whatever food item takes my fancy and the security of familiarity? Yes.

I'm not ready for the culture shock, noise, commercialism and concrete. So on that bittersweet note I head back to England solo with the kids in tow.

 

Serra Grande: Living On Light

I DON'T regard myself as an extremist (although many would disagree). But I am extremely curious to discover my physical, mental and emotional limits (thank you, Zenchai, for helping me with the latter). 

I first heard about the 21-day Living On Light process when I arrived in Piracanga in January. I was instantly intrigued. Could it be done? What would it feel like? What would I discover about myself being in isolation and not drinking, eating or talking for a prolonged period?

For some it would seem like insanity. I understand that. The reaction from my own family (without me asking for any opinion) was interesting and contrasting: "I don't support him - it's dangerous"; "meditation doesn't work"; "I'm interested to hear about it when you're done".

But since I've been in Piracanga, I've met dozens of men and women who have completed the course. Practically all have had extraordinary and remarkable experiences. Many have called it the most powerful/enlightening period of their lives. 

The Living On Light process in Piracanga is done individually but as part of a group, some big and some small. But I am doing my process elsewhere, by myself surrounded by nature, though under supervision. 

The process isn't for me all about abstaining from food, although I am sure it will play a big part and my relationship with food will become clearer, too. Food - the eating and buying of, thinking and worrying about, preparing, digesting - takes from us a lot of energy even though we consume to acquire energy. It's a curious relationship. 

I want most of all, though, to learn about myself - to see if I can discover (or should I say rediscover?) my essence through stillness and by eliminating distractions. We can, of course, learn about ourselves, too, in every day life, through our interactions with others and mostly in challenging situations. But I want to be more in a state of 'being' rather than 'doing' - to try to live from moment to moment (just like my daughter Kobra does) with no concept of time except for night and day. 

This is an opportunity to try something new and I feel certain this journey will take me through another dimension. I want to confront myself and what I feel - to connect with myself by going inwards in a way that requires seclusion, silence and isolation (including no computers), where you can't escape and hide from yourself. That could, of course, drive some of us crazy - and maybe it will me - and bring about some discomfort.

I shall find out soon enough. 

Jamie and the kids, meanwhile, have headed off to England and I will join them when I am finished and have taken some time to process what I will undoubtedly discover. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brazil: More Police Federal Fun And Games

WE thought we had seen the last of Policia Federal in Ilheus. But no such luck. We needed a passport for Kobra as Jamie and the kids are on their way to England for Christmas to see friends and family (I will follow later).

Being born in Brazil makes Kobra entitled to a Brazilian passport. It's easier (from Brazil) than applying for a British one (which would entail mailing the original birth certificate to the British Consulate in Rio De Janeiro, getting a British one and then mailing it to Washington DC for processing and waiting for goodness knows how long for it to return).

We shall apply for Kobra's British when we are in England. It's simpler that way. In the meantime we applied for the Brazilian online. This involved entering all the essential information and receiving an appointment date at Police Federal in Ilheus.

Our appointment was confirmed. We printed it off and then waited for the day. We had a plan, which involved entering our paperwork, returning to Itacare by bus and then, the next day, going by bus to beautiful Boipeba for a small family break.

So when we arrived in Itacare on the morning of our appointment, we booked ourselves into a pousada/guesthouse (we opted for the Piracanga Pousada on the small square), left our bags and computer and then took the bus to Ilheus for the 2.45pm appointment.

Arriving well in time (the bus journey is about two hours, but fairly smooth), we had some lunch first, took a taxi to Police Federal and then the fun started, as usual.

We were told that the appointment venue had been changed and then to go to SAC in the centre where Police Federal now has a passport office. No-one had warned or told us.

We walked to the nearby bus terminal, took a taxi back to Ilheus centre (about R15 or £7) and found the SAC building. 

Immediately, we handed in our papers. But shortly after, an officer (the first friendly one we had encountered) gave us some bad news. Talking in Portuguese, he said something to the effect of "Doesn't look too good right now. If you [two] were Brazilian it wouldn't be a problem. But as it is, it's going to be complicated."

He disappeared back into the office. Zenchai played in the dirt with his cars. Jamie and I looked at each other almost in disbelief. Jamie was ready to scream!

Some time later a more senior officer, who looked at you over his glasses whenever he spoke, came out. Again, talking in fast Portuguese and sounding rude, he said he couldn't process the application. We weren't clear why.

His friendlier colleague came out to explain further, telling us we needed to come again the next morning (8am).

'YOU MUST BE JOKING' were the words ringing in my head.

We contemplated getting a bus back to Itacare, where all our belongings were, or staying the night in Ilheus.

After calculating the costs - and inconvenience - we opted to stay in Ilheus. The expense of staying one night added up to the same to travelling to Itacare and back the next day. Nice 'pousadas' are hard to find in Ilheus, though. We searched and got one that was (barely) acceptable. 

It meant, though, that we were paying for three places to stay on one night (remember, we are also renting a house in Piracanga)!

Up in time for breakfast, we then made our way to Police Federal again. Jamie tried to adopt a more positive attitude. I did the same. 

What could be the problem? We'd spoken to people who'd successfully applied. We'd had two Brazilians read the 'necessary documents' page on the government website. We felt prepared.

We were positive, but I also was ready for anything. Never take anything for granted. This was Police Federal after all. 

Jamie and I looked at each other when we presented our documents to an officer who had turned us away several months ago when we tried for temporary residency. Bad sign?

He came out several minutes later and, in his high-pitched voice, explained to us he could start the process and have a passport issued, but that we would need to go to the other Police Federal to make and sign a declaration.

We groaned, but accepted.

The passport would be ready for collection after eight working days and only one of the parents (provided he or she has the child's birth certificate and his or her passport) needed to pick it up. 

Quickly, we took a taxi to Police Federal (again). We had a bus to catch to Itacare. We asked for the relevant officer before Jamie was taken to an office. Zenchai and I waited. It took more than an hour. Zenchai was getting hungry. I could hear Kobra becoming restless.

Then it was my turn. We were asked all sorts of questions about our visit and stay in Brazil and then told to sign a statement. We also were issued with another fine - the maximum one (over R800 each) - for overstaying our visa.

The officer explained that we would have to pay it when next entering Brazil, but we couldn't return until next January (2012), a year since we last entered the country.

Once finished, we left Police Federal (hopefully for the final time) and walked to the bus station, luckily in time to catch our ride to Itacare, which leaves every hour.

Relieved, we got to Itacare and decided to stay the night before, finally, heading to Boipeba. 

World Travel: The Journey Has Only Just Begun

I GET the impression many people think we are living the idyllic existence. In some ways perhaps we are. On the outside nearly every day I see sunshine, nature, ocean, sand, beaches and river. However, on the inside the dark clouds have been gathering.

The build-up of frustration has been long and slow. What started as a journey of great exploration and adventure with my family has become more of an internal examination, especially since arriving in Piracanga, Brazil in January. 

I've known for a long time that happiness and fulfilment doesn't come from your environment (miserable people will take their misery anywhere, regardless of the surroundings). However, we thought being in a beautiful location would certainly improve our lifestyle. All it's done is remind us and confirm to us that true joy comes only from what you feel on the inside.  

There are many factors I didn't consider when we started travelling and if I did, I didn't consider them thoroughly enough. 

Being on the move with a family is tough. Very tough. Being all together in one place 24/7 is also incredibly demanding. We are now four and not three. That in itself has added to the pressure. The pot has been boiling. We just didn't realise the heat was on. Now we see the steam. 

We knew we needed some help and then, as if she were sent from heaven, met Shiroma, a former Steiner and Freeschool teacher wise beyond her years.

Almost every night for two weeks we talked openly and honestly for hours and examined every detail of our family. Everything, it seemed, was connected, going back to Jamie and my own childhood experiences. 

Shiroma helped us better understand and remind us what's going on in particular with Zenchai and also him in relation to travelling: how making friends and then seeing them leave - or leaving himself - can be heart-breaking; how we, the parents, need to be more patient and give him the security when he needs it; how what the parents feel is also felt by the children; how devoting all/most your time to your child can cause him or her to become over-stimulated and how Zenchai really has had nowhere to call 'home' for almost two years.

Shiroma asked Jamie how she felt and she said 'tired'. I said 'lost'. Then she looked at us and said, "That's what Zenchai is feeling from you." No wonder he has been in turmoil.

Add in the arrival of his sister, too. He's feeling confused and insecure. Zenchai has just wanted to feel safe.

His confidence took a jolt, though, before Kobra arrived, around the time we landed in Argentina late last year. While I've always tried to encourage him to be confident, I realise now that there were times when he simply wasn't ready to take certain steps by himself. 

We moved a lot and finding other kids for Zenchai to play with was difficult. Jamie and I were Zenchai's only security. There were times when we were puzzled by his reluctance to leave our sides and venture to meet other kids. But now it's clearer why.

In Piracanga, Brazil there were plenty of kids for him to play with. But he was getting adjusted to a new environment again. He went to the school, but didn't like it. His behaviour towards other children in Brazil has at times been very challenging. But it was not due to a lack of confidence or language skills. Kids always find a way to communicate and Zenchai now speaks decent Portuguese. 

But because Zenchai has been so used to leaving locations, it's caused him a lot of heartbreak and, consequently, some of his stormy behaviour has been only as a means to protect himself. 

The impact of Kobra's arrival is too detailed to go into here. Suffice to say with everything else going on, Zenchai's struggled to know his place in the new family set-up and he has been fiercely resisting the change. 

And everything has heaped strain on Jamie and myself. Since leaving England in February 2010, we have functioned almost entirely as mother and father and not as Jamie and Claude. That's why I said I felt 'lost'. It's easy to lose yourself with parental responsibilities when it's full-time.

For me, in particular, it's been hard to reconcile. I chose to leave a satisfying, secure and decently-paid job to dedicate time with my family and then discovered I had little, if any, time to myself - to do what I wanted to do, even if only for a few minutes each day. In Piracanga, which is so remote, that feeling really intensified.

Someone recently described to me how Piracanga is like a 'washing machine for the soul' - it spins you around from the inside and cleans you up. I feel like I'm still on the fast wash setting!

Also, I now realise that Zenchai needs a break from us, too - that he has to rediscover his ability to play by himself for long periods (essential for grounding). His insecurity and need for attention has taken him away from that. 

We've accepted it's vital to carve out chunks of time for each parent to have to themselves and to do something they enjoy. It makes for happier people. I'd recommend that as a priority for any family contemplating a journey like we have done. 

We're still working on it, starting with an hour a day, but it doesn't always happen. The alternative, though, is frustrated, angry parents and those emotions are then transferred to the children, creating instability. Not good.

And while I thought Zenchai would adore having us both around all the time, the reality is that he saw me as competition for Jamie's attention - a rival, in fact. Until I stopped work, he had Jamie to himself. Now we are trying to mend that rift.

Yet Shiroma (pictured above) called us the 'most conscious parents she had ever met'. I felt really flattered by that compliment, even if on the inside I didn't/couldn't believe it. 

Jamie and I really do try, though we've made mountain-loads of mistakes along the way, as does every parent. Now is the time to rectify them and change patterns for the future, hard as it is.

Does it mean we will stop travelling? Does it mean this travelling adventure hasn't been worth it? After all, Zenchai needs a place he can call home. 

For us, though, the latter is not about having concrete or wooden structures to live in. It's about internal stability and that could - and should - be our family circle. That family circle, when solid, can go anywhere. 

Our time in Brazil has been deeply introspective - far from what we had anticipated. Although it has been testing, we've had many fantastic moments and met wonderful people. I am pleased I came. Had I not, I possibly wouldn't know what I know today. I wouldn't be making the changes I need to make. 

Maybe we were guided here in order to begin the healing process within our family and there can be nothing more important than that. 

In reality, the journey has only just begun. 

 

Piracanga: Vegan Breakfast Chocolate Mousse

When we first arrived in Piracanga in January, our staple breakfast was pancakes. However, we found that the pancakes not only took a lot of time to prepare each morning, but also we wanted some variety.

We came up with vegan chocolate mousse, which is not just delicious, but really easy to make if you have a decent blender.

The ingredients we use can be varied, but the base is fresh coconut (water and flesh), giant avocado, one or two ripe bananas and chocolate powder (cacau em po).

Usually, though, I throw in a ripe mango and/or a papaya and even a few drops of honey.

I blend it in stages, starting with the coconut water and flesh with bananas, then add the mango/papaya and blend. Then I add the avocado and chocolate and blend again until smooth.

We're lucky enough to have coconuts growing on trees all around us. If you can't get coconut, instead use less water and more bananas to get a thicker consistency with the avocado. You can always throw in some dates for sweetening instead of honey.

We top it off with some homemade granola, which consists of rolled oats, hard coconut flesh, raisins, dates (if we can get them), sliced ginger and toasted sesame seeds. If we can find nuts, like almonds, we add these, too. 

It makes for a great breakfast (especially the amounts we consume) - it's pretty healthy - and holds us all over until lunchtime. 

 

Piracanga: Zenchai's Hang Drum Concert Promotion Video Exclusive!

 

 

Here's the promised clip of the candlelight concert Zenchai promoted by himself earlier this month, featuring Shiroma, our neighbour, playing a hang drum. Hope you enjoy the unique sound of this drum and the wonderful atmosphere Zenchai created.

Piracanga: Zenchai The Music Promoter

  "Daddy, daddy, come see my stadium," Zenchai announced excitedly as I returned to the house one afternoon.

Stadium? 'What's he talking about?' I thought to myself.

Then I headed into the garden and saw this structure he had put together all by himself from leftover wood. And for decoration, Zenchai built a kind of tower on which he placed a dog bone, dog tooth, banana flower and other natural items he had found. 

The stadium was more like a stage. He'd decided, by his own volition, to have a concert. Our German/Sri Lankan neighbour, Shiroma, plays a unique drum called a hang. They are huge, like tagine ovens, and specially made in Switzerland. Only 3,000 exist in the world.

Shiroma's very talented. And although she's had been living next to us for a while, we had never got to hear her play. 

So Zenchai decided he would make it happen. His first music concert promotion! Could this be the start of something big?

Shiroma came over to the house to see the construction and inspect it (for safety and size, presumably). She told Zenchai, though, that before you can have a concert you first need to book the artist and set a time. So Zenchai and Shiroma did some negotiating. And as Zenchai had ensured her it was an eco-friendly stadium (made from wood etc), I think Shiroma agreed to perform for free. 

First, though, she advised Zenchai that some modifications were needed. Zenchai then went off with his bag of nails and hammer and started reconstructing - all by himself. 

When Zenchai had finished, he agreed a time for the concert with Shiroma. In fact, Zenchai invited her for dinner. Then after we had eaten, as the sun went down (Zenchai purposely built the stadium in a spot in the garden where the last rays of sunshine fell), Zenchai dashed into the yard and lit a long line of candles. He created quite an atmosphere and cheered Shiroma on as she took her position. 

Shiroma has performed professionally on some great stages around the world and in front of big crowds, but even she admitted she'd seen nothing quite like this. 

The music was amazing, as was the setting. Jamie and Kobra took their places. Zenchai even held a candle, as they do at concerts. 

When the candles burned out, we cleaned up - in time for some banana cake and, for Zenchai, much-needed sleep. 

*We hope to post a video of this event shortly