Ed in Brazil

*** re-posted from Ed’s Brazil 99 “raw text journals”


jul 19 mon
It's raining a lot right now.  Everyone's asleep or
working on thesis papers.

Raining here.  Sounds of small foreign cars
spittling along in street puddles have taken
the place of the Sheridan's dock workers.
(Just as I finished typing that, an eerie
silence fell over Anita Garibaldi, the street
on which Lenara lives).

Haven't gotten out yet.  Everyone's konked
out, weary from days without sleep working on
both Ive and Lenny's thesis papers.  Staring
out the window, the street remind

*[disk ate a big chunk of it here]*

of the living room... so I spent a few
hours just slumped over the edge of the sofa.
Dreamt about a raccoon with one translucent
testicle.  It was sick and I was trying to take care
of it... but some lady was trying to stop me.
Ended up in a darkened church with a ceiling shrouded
in shadow.  Dream knowledge told me it was a
private girl's school.  One of my relatives was there.

Coke here is super sweet.  The language sounds
like magical incantations.  I'm slowly learning the

jul 20 tue
Got out today!  Going out some more in a few minutes.
Porto Alegre has a buzz of chaos and tip-table sense
of insecurity.  Cars and motorbikes weave into the
roads without concern for lanes or pedestrians.
Everything is grimy but modern.  Cell phones are
ubiquitous.  I'm learning small chunks of Portuguese
as I go along.

walked by myself for
awhile.  Down in the valley the fumes
from cars stung my nose.  All of the
houses are behind big fences, as I
probably told you.  As I walked up
the hill from Lenara's, I passed a
number of nice houses.  Nicest I've
seen here.  Mansions, almost.  The
sound of traffic was faint and the
sun had just gone down.  Spooky dusk.
My nerve endings spun in waves,
excited and frightened by these dark
regal houses with tropical trees
growing around them.  I broke into
laughter when two dogs came barking
up to me from one house, each wearing a
little sleeveless sweater.

I was the height of fashion last night in a print
skirt.  It's a longer story than I have time to tell
right now.  I'm now wearing shoes with octopus
tentacle sucker soles.

Today we ate at a nice vegetarian place, hung
out at the big Verle house and  worked on some graficas
for a Pilula party tomorrow.  Pilula (means "pill"
in Portuguese) is the name of the web zine that
Lenara works on.  I designed some certificates
to hand out to people who donate money.  Nothing
too fancy.  Later in the day we saw a Woody Allen
movie ("Deconstructing Harry") in English with
Portuguese subtitles.  I'm trying to get everybody
to go see Star Wars DUBBED in Poruguese.

No pants yet, probably tomorrow.  Just wore
my Ross pants again today.  Len's mom gave me
some shoes.

Today is "Friends Day" in Brazil.  Another
Hallmark(tm) holiday, I guess... but here's a pic of
me and my Brazilian buddy from earlier today:


jul 21 wed
Spent most of the
day inside with Lenara working on last
minute stuff for the Pilula ("Pill")
party.  Pilula's a webzine she and
some friends have created.  My services
were called to write a tiny "guestbook"
program in Perl and to gussy it up with
some JavaScript warning crap on top.
The party itself was at a bar connected
to an art gallery connected to a book
store.  Room enough to fit fifty people
comfortably.  It ended up fitting well
over two HUNDRED by the time the night
was through.

I was a shy boy for most of the night,
not being able to speak the language
and all that.  Performed some more geek
slavery on the computer upstairs (had
to rename all of the mac files because
Windows had truncated the names when
we burned them to CD-ROM).  Met several
of Lenara's friends.  I was a gringo
novelty.  People practiced English on
me.  Mostly, though, I verified that
I don't like huge parties of strangers,
especially when I can't understand a
word they're saying.  Ended up taking
a few short walks around the neighborhood
before sharing some dinner with Lenara
in this dimly lit room where shoes weren't
allowed.  When I first saw this room,
with its blankets and pillows and candles,
I thought it was some sort of make-out cave
or orgy chamber.  Turns out you don't need
a designated room for that in Brazil.  Suck
face was occurring all around me at a
dizzying frequency.  I don't know if it
was all that, or all the wine I had at
dinner (fancy mini-pizza thing)... but I
was blushing for the remainder of the
night.  Some guy talked to me for awhile
in English.  I think he was trying to
impress his girlfriend.  We talked about
weather in the US, public transportation
and ecology.  Had a good talk with a
friend of Lenara's named "shu shu".  He's
a genuinely kind fellow and imparted
upon me the significance of the cities
I'd be to which I'd be traveling.

In all, I was panic-stricken for half the
evening, engaged in nice conversation for
a fourth of it and blissfully tired drunk
for the remainder.  Not a bad night, but
I'd rather have been in a quieter place
with more pens in my hands... or in a
louder place with lots of dancing.

jul 22 thur
 Met Brady and Ive for lunch
at that veg/gay place.  Just thinking
of the food there makes my tummy grin.
Today it was some Indian pea curry, rice,
broccoli, more veggies wrapped in a thin
pancake with a nutty garnish on top,
lentil soup and salad.  The place is on
the second floor of a building that also
houses a lingerie/fetishwear shop.  The
restroom doors have, respectively, Jesus
and Mary paintings on them.

After that we drove to pick up a book
Ive had bound.  Her thesis.  They were
fixing a part of it they'd mistakenly
bound upside down.  I guess the rebind
was unsatisfactory because Ivana went
into a rage.  I realised then how easy
it is to start a revolution!  She was
furious and ranting in Portuguese.
We had to drive back to the place so
she could kill someone.  Combine that
with the chaotic traffic situation...
it's a wonder I could take a shit

Brady and I were dropped off
downtown and we wandered.  Big indoor
shops with disgusting meat shops and
religious oddities.  Crowded streets
with snake-oil salesmen and Teletubbies
bootleggers.  Huge buildings gutted by
fire and turned into beautiful parking
lots.  Peddlars, panhandlers, prostitutes.
Found the recalled Xena action figure in
a toystore.  Spoke Portuguese to a
candystore clerk to order a bag of
"Grid bons bons" ("grid" is a big deal
in SITO circles, if you hadn't figured
that out).  It was a huge tiring dream

Picked up the Verle's mom, dropped her
at home after she ate like 20 tangerines.
Picked up Junior (Verle's brother) and
took him to some street corner somewhere.
Ivana made a wrong turn and we were
climbing some hill with roadconditions
that deteriorated by the centimeter.
Apparently we were ascending into some
"bad neighborhoods".  The ground is loose
and unstable around Porto Alegre, so only
the poor people live on landslide-prone
pieces of terrain... like hills.  It was
fun to watch Ivana panic a little and
Brady snap pictures with his digital cam.

Went grocery shopping later with Brady
and Ivana.  Hipermercado de Bourbon.
Spent way too long in there listening
to sickly silky loungified muzak.  Ate
a dough-nut that, for some unappetising
reason, translates its name from
Portuguese to mean "fried twisted men's
underwear".  I'm not kidding.

jul 23 fri
Brady and I walked through the park
today.  There's a huge sculpture there
that looks like huddling robot giants, or a giant
tripod machine from War of the Worlds.

We blame every
weird thing Brazilians do on "lack of breakfast".

There was a dog party in the park
yesterday... dozens of canines brought their
"owners" to a pondy park down the street.  Lots
of romp, tuck and bark.

Brady almost convinced me that it's a law that you
have to carry your pets across the street.

jul 24 sat
Lenara's away somewhere.  The air is chilled.
My fingers are a bit numb.  It's not really cold
here, especially for winter.  Long-sleeve shirt and
pants are okay.  It's like autumn, except all of
the trees still have their leaves and some are even

jul 25 sun
Bubbles scintillate at the top of my sugary Coca
Cola.  Sugarier than the Cokes I'm used to.  Two
liter bottles shaped like huge versions of the
kind you buy for yourself at convenience stores
or impulse-buy aisles.  A dark skinned young
girl is soothing a baby by walking it back and
forth out on the sunlit patio.  Cooing babyisms
in Portuguese.  Lenara's working endlessly
on her research paper, periodically stopping to
ask me things like "what do you think about the
visual conversations on SITO?" or "how many
levels of interactivity does SITO have, you think?".
At first I'm slow to respond, wrenched from what
I'm thinking or doing.  Clarifications.  Context.  Then
we launch off into a series of excited exchanges.
Just when I feel we're up to a good pace, she
nods dismissively and turns away to clack-a-
clack more on her paper.  Maybe two hours has
gone by, maybe 10 minutes.

This afternoon
I will have been here for a week.  It feels like
longer.  Sometimes like forever.  Feeling so
vulnerably impressionable.  Every new place
takes me over.  Every new situation floods my
mind.  Struggling to maintain buoyancy and not
drown in the present and abstract future.  Grasping
at the past so I know the present won't disappear.

Last night our plan was to go
to the hills today.  We set alarms for 6AM.  But
Ivana was feeling sick.  A flu-cold colloquially
referred to as "tiazinha" (TEE-uh-ZEEN-yuh) or
"little aunt".  It's a reference to a pop culture
star here, a sex symbol, a dominatrix.  The sick
is called this because it "slaps you around".


I've passed the halfway mark in my compo-
sition notebook (like in "Henry Fool") and
enjoy the heck out of just rubbing the pen
grooved pages, listening to the crickle of
the brittle segmented paper.

We've seen
three (!) movies in the last week.  Ivana adores
the cinema as much as I do.  We saw "Decon-
structing Harry" which boosted my opinion of
Woody Allen films.  Friday we went to "Go" at
midnight because we missed the last showing
of "The Big Lebowski".  We saw the latter last
night, though.  All with Portuguese subtitles.
The Brazilians laugh before the punchlines are
delivered because they are reading the dialogue.
Makes for a disjointed experience, leaving Brady
and I laughing long after the joke has been made
for the majority.

Today was like a spring heat.  Warm, but not
seeping.  Sundown is early and now my fingers are
feeling the chill.

discovering that plans here are just rough
guidelines.  A bit disappointing at times, but
SHUSH, I'm in BRAZIL!  Let the centavos fall where
they may.  We went to the street market this
afternoon.  Last weekend was all rainy, so there
were a double dose of Brazilians out there today
wandering, carrying their dressed-up dogs and
sipping chimojos (a drink, traditionally sucked
from gourds through REUSABLE STRAWS, made from
powdered herbs).  [picked up some gifts]
Lenara and
I got these popcicles that, instead of a normal
wooden stick, had a piece of a larger model
embedded in the plastic frame.  They're called
"Los Skeletos"!  We both got the same pieces
though, so it was a bit of a rip.  When I started
to lick, I was expecting the whole "skeleto" to be
inside, waiting to be awoken from its icy slumber
by my probing tongue.  Sigh.

Went back to that gay club/cafe, Ocidente
(OH-see-DEN-chay) for lunch.  Scrumptious, as
always.  Only $3US for soup, rice, curry, multiple
breads, spicy peach spread, guarana drink and
dessert.  Ivana summed it up, "If I were a gay
man, I'd be in love with the chef."

Strolled around the park afterward, marvelling at
all the people, trying to find fish to feed.  I
practiced my Portuguese by ordering popcorn all by
myself.  Kids practiced futbol all around us.
Occasionally, shoeless beggar kids would come up
and give us sad cute little looks.  We want to
make zines for them, with educational activities
inside... then have them turn them in for grades
and rewards in food and money.  Is that
patronising?  Seems like an obvious educational

Down to the waterfront for the sunset.  Ivana
wasn't feeling well and stayed in the car. I was a
bit wiped out myself.  Just wanted to lay in the
sun and relax.  Walked with Lenara and Brady for
awhile.  Got chased out of a certain section of
waterfront by the firemen/military.  Concrete echo
sounds of a pop music concert somewhere in the
market area of downtown.

Up to the top of some beautiful pink building for
drinks.  We sat under a dome among the rooftops of
downtown Porto Alegre watching the sun drop and
drinking Heinekens.  The waiter asked me, and I
understood the words, if I wanted another beer.
"No, no mais," I said.  I was so proud of myself.
Bats flitted around as it got darker.  It was

lunch today, a seven year old girl did some
traditional (looking) Indian dancing. 

jul 26 mon

Finally got my first wad of cash here.  I've been
limping around on borrowed peanuts for a week.  I
hate the idea of debt, no matter how benign.

It's really easy to
talk to Lenara.  We're both geeks and get excited by
similar topics (complexity, synergy, website management,
computery art, artificial intelligence, VR).

Porto Alegre is a much larger city than I expected.
There are two separate bus systems.  The normal
city bus and the small red buses.  The city buses
operate much as you'd expect, stopping at stops.
The only variation, really, is that there's a little
"holding" area on the bus where you can ride
without paying.  You only pay when you are going
to leave the bus.  I think the purpose is to allow
people to count out their fare or meet people
along the route that will pay their fare.  I don't
really know for sure.  It costs 70 centavos, which
is like 40 cents to you and me.  You enter in the
rear, depart from the front.  The small red buses
don't really have stops, but they do have routes.
You just flag them down when you want to get on.
There's a special sign-language they flash you if
the bus is full.  As the name implies, they are
half-sized buses, painted red.  You pay when you
depart, $1.20R (about 70 cents US).  The buildings
in town are most impressive.  Huge sculpture and
odd congested architecture slopes, heaves, juts
and dances.  It's all a bit grimey, but awesome.

I've dreamt twice, down here, about the "end of the
world".  Most recently was a dream in which a black
shadow filled the sky and sunk the planet into a
universal night.  Storms and seismic events for
months and months were wearing down civilisation's
resources and destroying ecosystems.  Simul-
taneously, we were being contacted by an extra-
terrestrial intelligence.  Many thought it was these
ET's that were causing the magnetic distortions on
the planet.  Some thought they were revealing
themselves at this point only to help us survive and
that they'd really been watching for a long time.
When I first noticed the sky getting black, I
hallucinated a giant eye at the center of it.  Green,
humanlike eye.

jul 27 tue
Just a lot of sitting around while Ive
and Lenara did stuff.  Tried to see "Star Wars"
in Portuguese.  Sold out.  Ate spaghetti with
white sauce at the big Verle house.   Dosed
up on Brazilian TV.  Laughed way more than
I should have at "The Incredible Hulk" cartoon.
Hulk referred to himself as "Hulky".  All words
ending with a consonant have "ee" or "oh"
tacked on.  For instance, I'm "Edgey".  Met the
Verle's father... the communist director of a

jul 28 wed
Despite my fundage being kicked in the
nifties (by expensive tickets to Buenos Aires), today was probably the most
eventful so far!  Started it off by
sleeping late and waking up in a pool of
warm sunlight.  Skitter and scurry, cab
in a hurry.  Off to the "Space Doctors"
as Lenara calls them.  Hocus pocus
superstition predators that claim to
channel spirits of doctors to diagnose
and then perform psychic surgery and
housecalls on you.  Lenara's god-mom (and aunt)
is all into it and Lenara's being slowly
indoctrinated as well, despite her
skepto-bismol.  Took numbers, like at a deli, I got
number thirteen.  I was diagnosed by a woman
channeling Paulo, a male doctor spirit.
I instructed Lenara to tell "Paulo" I
was there to look for a remedy to the
apocalyptic dreams I've been having,
but she chickened out and just said I
was there for a "check-up".  Doctor
Paulo felt my wrists, bowed her head,
looked deep into my eyes and started
scribbling incoherently on a big pad
of paper.  She told Lenara to ask me
if I'd had any headaches lately.
"Not since I've been here," I told
Len to tell her.  Paulo prescribed a
"blood drawing" and directed me to
wait on some cheap plastic chairs
over in the corner.  Soon, some other
"doctors" in white coats took me
behind a white curtain, near the big
polyreligious icon altar.  There were
even hokey American Indian statues,
like you buy at truck stops in Wyoming,
on the massive porcupine of faith.
They poured an alcohol solution on my
hands and had me wash them, and my
ears for some reason.  Sitting there,
wrists upturned, I was subjected to
dampened cotton on my pulse and a
few minutes of Latin-sounding chanting
in stereo, doctor on either side.
They then left me sitting there for a
few minutes and made me drink a third
of a cup of water.  I'd tell them
"no falo Portuguese" when they'd say
stuff to me, but they'd continue
speaking it anyway.  Their country,
I guess.  I was set free then, cured
of something, a gringo in a strange

That was just the beginning of the

Then it was Ivana's paper defense.
A tense hour of words I didn't
understand and body language I did.
She passed!  With an "A"!  That gets
her paper into the library.  Hooray!
I sketched some of it, court room
style, in my journal book.

Zip zam downtown to get the (ugh)
tickets for BA.  Then Len and I nabbed
a cab to a big cheesey mall that was
playing the dublado version of "Star
Wars".  When I heard
Jar Jar Binks in Portuguese, I
lightened up.  Yoda's voice was horrible,
as was Obi-Wan's.  I got bored of the
whole Portuguese thing after 30 minutes
and just started paying attention to
the visuals and what the Brazilian kids
laughed at.  No revelations... but I'm
glad I went.

Tumble-dy doo over to some fancy
Italian place for the bday party of
some good old friend of Lenara's.
Yummy calzone.  Lots of naked photos
on the walls.  Small boobed waify
girls and ripped hairless guys.
Some girl across the table had
hypnotic eyes, sorta Persian crossed
with mid-African crossed with
European.  I entertained people by
making a fool of myself trying to
speak Portuguese and singing "Happy
Birthday" in English.  The "how o-old
are you?" verse was a big hit.

Ocidente was next.  The cafe had
transformed into a throbbing drum and
bass club.  Smoke everywhere.  Gyrating
gay people.  Danced for a couple of
hours.  Welcome release of the anger
from earlier and a lot of other pent up
stuff.  Boogied extra hard when
a mix of some music from "WipEoutXL"
came on.  Wore my Nintendo backpack
the entire time and traded some Altoids
for ginger snips.  Bonded with a guy
wearing an Atari shirt.  

[A week later I found out that I now appear in a number
of photos taken that night, the spastic bear American]

jul 29 thu
Did laundry in the morning.  Flight to Buenos Aires.  Loads of new stamps in my
passport.  Hotel de la Paix just off the big 19-lane mega-street, only blocks
away from the obelisk landmark.  Finally got Lenara up and out of the hotel room
after a long nap.  Late night pizza and a disgusting milkshake.  

jul 30 fri
Met with Gustavo and Leonor.  They taught us hand gestures and mapped
us out a bunch of places to go.  Went to Cafe Tortoni's.

jul 31 sat
Went on a
touristy bus ride earlier today, caught a glimpse of
a gargantuan cemeteria.  Ditched the yuppies in
a part of Buenos Aires called "La Boca".  The arty
part of town where people get beat up at night and
terrorised by rabid scruffly dogs during the day.
I nodded politely when smiling Argentinians tried
to sell me tooty whistles and shiny paintings.
Lenny took over as la navigatora and steered us
toward a nice little Italian restaraunt our "sources"
had encouraged us to patronise.  Watching our steps
after a quick brush with perro poo, we tried our
best to look like natives.  Found the place after
blocks of downtrodden Cuba-looking neighborhoods.
I've never been to Cuba, but it looks a lot like
what the propagandagraphs show me.  Cars with windows
shattered out, skin torn off, grills crushed in.
Layers of coloured stuccometalgrime.  Kids playing
futbol in the park.  Food was bueno.  Tortillacakes,
spaghettistuff and pan.  Waiter was magnifico.  El
Obrero is the name of the place.  Subway (subte)
riding was the next order of the day.  Gorgeous old
wood fixtures, seats, swinging handles.  We rode
to the end of the line and back to our hotel.

Most of Buenos Aires is quite fancy.  Old pretty
buildings, winding streets, tiled walks, statues up
the bunda.  Gets overwhelming.

Called Leonor, the
Argentinian, friendly, nihlist girl.  Every time
we called, we would get a different person.  First
call, I managed to blurt out "Hola, quiero hablar
con Leonor!" and not understand a word of the
response.  I know only staged Spanish, I can't
converse. "Uh...Leonor...not available?" I
burbled.  "Goodbye," she hung up.  Lenara called a
bit later and got some clueless old guy.  The
phone was flubbing up.  Each call was potentially
costing us $2.70.  I ended up going out to a pay
phone on the 19-lane mega-calle and getting her on
the first try.

Ended up at Leonor's place after midnight.  She
lives in a nice narrow house with her parents and
about 16 cats.  Her dad made us pizza and tang.
We all riddled and chatted and debated and giggled
into the wee hours before taking a "private taxi"
(some unlicensed cabby) home. Not nearly as
entertaining as the ride TO Leonor's place
however.  Intense traffic weaving while the driver
cranked up the eurodisco on his stereo.  "Push
Push in the Bush", "The Point of No Return" and
substandard Pet Shop Boys clones.  It was like
some forgotten scene from "Night on Earth".

Leonor's a kick-ass hostess.  So friendly and
nice.   We all
fiddled with riddles and talked about the
differences in our three countries.  We referred
to it as the Trans-American Summit.  Cats were
nuzzling us all over.

aug 01 sun
Flew back from Buenos Aires today after a morning
of food scurry and tri-lingual bill disputes with
the unfriendly hotel guys. The hotel dispute started the night
before when we were trying to call Leonor.

Flying back to Porto Alegre from Argentina was
odd.  Felt like I was "coming home", even though
I've only been here a couple of weeks.  I prefer
staying at a house to a hotel.  I like have a
computer handy.  I like being able to eat from
a grocery store rather than a restaurant.  Not
to mention it's cheaper here in Brazil.

aug 02 mon
Just got back from Lenara's final paper presentation.
She wrote a huge academic treatment about... SITO!
It was all in Portuguese, but she showed videos and
at one point everyone turned around to look at me.
I was being asked to speak.  Ugh!  I was unprepared
and I'm a bit out of it because of a cold I picked
up in Argentina.  It was mortifying.  Not as bad as
when I sucked at swing dance lessons though.

aug 03 tue

aug 04 wed
The weather here is gorgeous. Mid-70's, breezey,
sunny.  Went for a long solo stroll this afternoon
while Brady and Ivana were being bumps on the same
log and Lenara was working on tickets and stuff.
Stopped in a nearby park to sketch and soak.  As I
sat on a stone bench doodling a big sculpture (the
one in the "grovers mill" photo in gringografia),
a group of teenagers and a 20-something leadertype
occupied a nearby bench.  My TINSTAC senses were
buzzing (imagine half-Ed, half-Spidey face).  I
then heard the leader lady say "You get up at 8AM"
in Ingles!  At that moment, I discerned that they
were an English (ESL) class.  I listened intently
as they went through simple exercises. "Do you
take a shower every day?  What are your hobbies?
What time do you wake up every day?"  My shyness
prohibited me from approaching them bombastically
and interrupting the class, but my urge to act on
this unique opportunity was overwhelming.  I
planned my approach.  Waited for an opening.  My
heart was beating doubletime.  Why was I so
nervous?  I don't know.  I'm a freak.  When they
were taking a smoke break, I approached and said
"You're all doing very well with your English!"
The next 45 minutes were full of giggly questions
and answers about my trip, places to go in Sao
Paulo, things to do in Porto Alegre and what I do
in America.  Gave them the web address and took
down their names.  Told them my name was Ed, but
they could call me "Edgee".  My spirits have been
soaring since!  My first independent friendlies
since my arrival!  

Walked and sat in the park more after that
watching dogs swim dopishly, models preen
themselves and pose for photos, futbol players
practice, muscular men exercise on the equipment,
kids chase pigeons, insects suck on flowers,
sunlight scintillate on the pond, and old people
chat with young people.  Fell in love with the
park today.  Maybe I fell in love with the city.
It suddenly felt alive and alluring, despite its
chaotic streets and unreliable public systems.

aug 05 thu
Dreamt last night that I arrived "home" (some
amalgam of cities and people) to find a saucepan
of shrimp on the stove, cold.  From another room,
Jon (who looked like someone else) poked out his
head and yelled "Y2K problem" in a matter-of-fact
tone that was meant to beckon me into the room to
help him and some people fix some software.


*** re-posted from Ed’s Brazil 99 photo journals


who dat?

Who’s that hiding behind
a mask at the Porto Alegre

not lenara!

Why! It’s
Lenara Verle,
Brazilian SITO Goddess!

let's get out of here

And look, it’s Ivana Verle.
Sister, chaffeur, guardian.
Who are they waiting for?

honey, i'm out of focus

Could it be…?!

Maul that and a bag of chips

“At last we can reveal
ourselves to the OEdi.”

kinder kaps

The Coreolis Effect can result in bizarre
symptoms. Giant chocolate knees is
not one of them.


Nor are enlarged chocolate pupils.


Nothing a little soup at
the Ocidente Cafe can’t treat.


Ive will attest to a clean
bill of health. *COUGH*

I feel a breeze

They do things a little
differently down in Brazil.

masochistic appliances

Refridgeration devices with
too many
Infinite Grid magnets
can develop a nagging masochism.

spot the balloon spider

Hundreds got caught in the
web at Pilula zine’s
Wednesday night bash at

just the bar part

The place was overflowing with
a bunch of people who didn’t speak
a lick of English.


Lenara speaks more than a lick.
Why oh why didn’t I take the blue pill?


Where the hell am I?

con amigos

Much love at the
Pilula party.

In comes Brady!

big drugs

Las drugas son grande no Brasil!

NOTE: Powerpuff Girls button!

feelin' groovy


dois gringos

Just look natural.
Act like you belong here.

mercado negre

Snake oil salesman with
car-battery powered microphone.

skepticos americanos

The audience was captivated
by spectacle and mortality.

kick, punch, it's all in the boot

You can’t see it, but
that system touts “8 Bits”
on the lower left corner.
PlayStation is a 32 Bit system.


No comment.

crowned by architecture

Hundreds of buildings
carve the skies of Porto Alegre.

brady tower

As does Brady.

bone noy chee

Downtown Porto Alegre.

pigeon, cow head, pig head, mujher head

Note to myself:
reread “Lord of the Flies”.

uvu tu thu ruscuu

Ivana rescues the gringos
from the temptittilations of downtown.

thruugh thu tunnul

Escape through the tunnel.


Brazilians son hombres pequenho.

accidentes alegre

Sometimes things happen
and you just have to smile.

yoda's house

These are the new neurons
I’ve grown in the vocabulary
lobe of my brain.

scene from anywhere

The park near Lenara’s
has a large fan for cooling
the picnickers in the summer.

caw caw!  caw caw!

Trained attack squirrels
disguised as penguins.

oed got in the way

Grover’s Mill, Rio Grande do Sol.

dusk comes early

The bioclock stutters when
the sun sets so early.

down by the water

In downtown Porto Alegre
there is a large body of water
perfect for watching sunset colours.

churro vendors abound

The gorgeous chromatics
inspire ravenous hunger in
Ivana and Brady.

Churro?  Cha, cha, cha?

You’re going to have
to write your own caption: …

post churro cuddle

Sugar makes the transAmerican
nuzzlepals giddy and grabby.

ed's a third wheel at this point

Brazilian condom adverts
are about the same as in the US.

anita garibaldi

Lenara’s apartment building
in Porto Alegre. Most buildings
(edificios) are behind fencing.

ed's got keys

Gringo with the keys.

mais anita garibaldi

A view down Anita Garibaldi,
Lenara’s street. Fencing, tiled walks,
foliage, funky phone booth, wacky wiring.


Trees in Lenara’s neighborhood
are big and twisty, creating a canopy
over the street.


I like the angles and
outcroppings on Porto Alegre’s

dusktop accessories

Hills in the neighborhood
provide a good view of the
early setting sun.

num nam nam

A chilly night sitting outside
at the Ossip cafe. Hot chocolate.
Cold ice cream.