A Case of the Brazils

Last week, I took a samba class. And it was great. And it broke my heart. For me, samba will be always be Latin Quarter nights with Andrea and Keila and Renata and Kelly and Mike K. and Trevor and Mario and Bruno and Gabi and Zazueira…

I knew that I was in Culver City, but a part of me kept looking around the room expecting to see them all there. Like it was old times.

There’s a big soccer tournament going on right now, UEFA Euro 2012. I watched the Italy-England game on Sunday at this hot dog place that would have been at home on Commercial Drive.

Samba and soccer in one week definitely gives me a case of the Brazils.

Especially when today is something of a holiday for me.

There are things that happen in my life that make me think it’s all happening that way that it should, that it’s not crazy to believe in miracles. In the simplest terms, June 25th is the day that I started meeting the Brazilians, but it’s more than that. Before I went to Vancouver, I had been looking, for a while, for…something. Events in my friend circle in the years preceding my departure had left me…let’s just say unsatisfied.

(And my celebratory caipirinha is kicking in right about now so I shouldn’t belabor things.)

It’s a fluke that I got into soccer. I’d never watched more than maybe 10 minutes combined in the 27 years up til then.
It’s a fluke that I wanted to watch the Brazil-Portugal game.
It’s a fluke that I didn’t have a TV and therefore had to watch games at sports bars & restaurants.
It’s a fluke that that game was at 7 and I had no idea where to watch it if not for walking by the Libra Room and seeing their sign that they would be open.

I cannot overstate the fact that that day changed my life because the things that came out of it proved to me that Vancouver is home.

“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists…it is real…it is possible…it’s yours.”

American girl. Canadian dreams. Brazilian heart.

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About J.

A former twentysomething with a head full of curls and heart full of questions wondering: when we get to nirvana, will there be food?
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