O corpo

Tudo comecou com um guidao de bicicleta encravado um pouco abaixo da altura da cintura na faixa dos 6 anos de idade. Historia engracada, pois todos seus amigos foram buscar ajuda e lhe deixaram sozinho. Imagina a ideia das criancas! Consequencia: teve que arranjar uma carona, e ir ate' o hospital mais proximo para ser atendido. Traz ate' hoje a cicatriz. A outra marca foi um acidente de carro aos 21 anos. Cruzamento nao obedecido pelo carro oponente, resultando em capotamento. Corpo arremessado pelo vidro traseiro, desacordado, e clavicula quebrada. Passou uma semana no hospital em observacao. Depois a queda na escada aos 29. Trinta e cinco pontos no queixo. Chegou sangrando ate' o hospital, apresentou calmamente a carteirinha do plano de saude, e pediu para ser atendido. Aos 32, dedo quebrado ao tentar se apoiar no chao quando escorregou na neve. Isso nao foi nada. Ainda virao muitas marcas! Dizem que amoelecem ou endurecem o coracao... Enfim, o resultado de tudo isso e' que todo corpo tem sua historia e sua realidade social. Lembre-se muito bem disso. E', parece as vezes uma historia a parte, distante de sua propria. E cada qual tem suas marcas. Existem as marcas do corpo e as da vida. Voce sabe qual e' a diferenca? As marcas da vida sao aquelas marcas imateriais, intangiveis. Marcas que chocam psicologicamente, e deixam sequelas. E pior; somente voce as percebe, e as sente. As marcas do corpo trazem as duas coisas ao mesmo tempo, a carga historica e a psicologica. Mas tambem sao marcas da "vida", pois fazem voce lembrar o quanto voce foi forte, e ate' onde voce chegou. O corpo fala. Tente escuta-lo...

1001 coisas para fazer antes de morrer: Gazpacho

Gazpacho e vinho a beira de um lago. A musica sera' do trio de amigas Au Revoir Simone. Nao esquecer de levar uma toalha bem grande para colocar no chao, alem de todos os apetrechos restantes. Um fogueira sera' essencial.

Como fazer o Gazpacho:

- 5 ou 6 tomates grandes bem maduros
- 1 pepino
- 1 cebola
- 1 pimentao verde
- 1 pimentao vermelho
- 1 ou 2 dentes de alho
- sal
- azeite
- 4 ou 5 pedaços de pao duro (do dia anterior)

Modo de preparo:

Corte os tomates, a cebola, o pepino, os pimentoes e o alho em pedaços, para que sejam triturados no liquidificador ou processador (retire as sementes dos pimentoes e descasque o pepino). Colocar todos os ingredientes em uma vasilha grande, acrescentando tambem uma xícara pequena de azeite de oliva virgem e sal a gosto (1 a 2 colheres de sopa).
A parte, por de molho em agua com sal e azeite os pedaços de pao, e reservar.

Em um liquidificador (ou processador), bater todos os ingredientes, acrescentando um pouco de agua e tambem os pedaços de pao, que serao usados para que o gazpacho fique mais ou menos cremoso. Pela quantidade de legumes e' provavel que seja necessario bater 2 copos de liquidificador.

Depois, deve-se passar a “pasta de verduras” por uma peneira, removendo e raspando com uma colher para separar o liquido das cascas e a parte grossa dos legumes. Usar uma vasilha grande para ir colocando o gazpacho que for sendo peneirado. Repetir o processo ate' aproveitar quase toda a massa de legumes que sobrar na peneira. Ou seja, leva-lo de novo ao liquidificador, com um “pouco” de agua, bater, e voltar a peneirar.

Por fim, misturar, e levar a geladeira. Deixar um tempo minimo 2 horas para que o gazpacho “curta” um pouco e pegue um gosto legal (geralmente, logo que acabamos de fazer, ele sempre fica com um gosto mais forte.. ou cebola, ou alho, pepino...)

Depois e' encontrar uma companhia para curtir esse momento especial com voce, o mais dificil.

The recession has come to an end

There are two options to get rid of the current economic recession and get back to a normal life: option A is to pick the common man’s choice and cut all superfluous expenses or option B is to pick one of the greatest economist’s ideas. Actually, option B is not just one but a caldron of experiments which might lead to a deadlock. What would be Keynes’ idea for example? Considering that he was a very pragmatic economist, he would go straight to the point: we have to build up highways, make wars, but somehow make the government spend money and create public employments from nothing! Malthus was more realist, although cruel. In the short-term, he would immediately ask for approval a bill in which a bag of 10 kg of potatoes and 1 kg of coffee a month would be the emergency government food supply for minimum wage workers. Van Gogh painted the famous “Potato Eaters” after the bill was approved! Then, Adam Smith, a bit selfish, joined the group, holding a cup of tea. He came into the room and said: I don’t care about what you said and I think each one has to take care of your own business. That’s it, period! What is good for me is good for everyone, and if everyone thinks like this, things will work out. I would approve a bill in parliament where any person could sell anything on the streets. By doing this, I would be finally abolishing the illegality of an ancient activity and creating taxes. Don’t worry, because at the end, a “invisible hand” is going to take care of everything and self-regulate the market. Karl Marx was on the corner patiently waiting everyone to finish their discourses. At the end, he said everyone was wrong and he was against everything that had ever been said before. The problem was not the recession itself, how everyone would think, but in the system which originated it. Hence the problem comes from a weak and precarious system and it needed to be replaced. Everyone was astonished! The little man lighted his cigar, drank his coffee, and went outside Vanessa’s Dumpling: Do you guys see this “RECESSION PRICE $1.29”? There is no recession price in a “perfect” capitalist system due to the fact that it does not imply recession itself. It might be dumping. However, I don’t think this is what Vanessa is doing at the moment. 1 dollar would be already a reasonable price. So, this 29 cents, considering that we are in New York, is a celebration of the Great Depression of 29, or just a “surplus”!

Cegueira, parte dois

Na manha seguinte, Franz estava sem orientacao, sem nocao de espaco. Talvez a cegueira de um dia tenha lhe deixado assim? Ainda deitado na cama, nao sabia onde estava a parede, a porta, o abajur, nada. Nao queria abrir os olhos e descobrir que nao estava mais cego ou que a parede tinha mudado de lugar. Talvez porque nao queria voltar a sua terra natal? Que nunca foi natal? Mas seu outro sentido estava lhe chamando. Escutava um ruido. Onde estava? Foi abrindo de devagar, e um feixe de luz entrando, quando no canto do quarto avistou um ser grande, de costas, de saias, bracos gordurosos, cabelos assanhados. Imediatamente fechou os olhos, pois aquele "ser" poderia lhe atacar se desconfiasse que estivesse acordado. Mais uma fisgada no olhar e descobriu que "aquilo" estava arrumando suas roupas intimas no armario: meu Deus, era a empregada domestica! Acabava ali sua vida privada; assim aconteciam as coisas no Brasil. A fronteira entre o publico e o privado era muito sutil. Ele tinha que se ajustar ao novo contexto. Entretanto, esse seria seu grande desafio, pensou. Depois de se recuperar do susto, conseguiu se levantar e tomar banho. Nao que tudo aquilo fosse anormal para ele, mas pelo contrario, tinha perdido o habito, o costume... Chegou na cozinha, a mesa estava estilo hotel cinco estrelas. Bem, afinal de contas estava visitando seus sogros e talvez quisessem dar uma boa impressao. Todos chegaram. Comecou o tiroteio. De onde vc eh, o que vc faz, quanto vc ganha, onde vc mora, qual o seu carro, qual a sua estirpe, e ai por diante. Quando nao perguntadas diretamente, indiretamente. Quando nao perguntadas seriamente, perguntadas com risadinhas nas entrelinhas. Quando nao perguntadas respeitosamente, perguntadas pejorativamente. Quando nao perguntadas na Rosa dos Ventos, ja' na dicotomia Norte-Sul, ou diria Nordeste-Sul, Paraiba-Sulista, e ai' por diante. Agora sim, Franz tinha certeza que voltou a enxergar. Pegou suas malas e foi direto ao aeroporto. Precisava ir para longe do Brasil.

The Latex Soldiers and Fordland

Garcia grabbed Sunday’s newspaper and read the headlines of an intriguing announcement which was definitely written for him, thought the enthusiastic young man. It was brief and concise but the idea was to join the ranks of a paramilitary group. The group was called “Latex Soldiers” and gathered by the Brazilian Army in order to combat a bunch of guerrilleros sponsored by Americans, interested on creating an independent country called Fordland in Acre State. The United States would finally have its share of the Amazon and also a lifetime supplier of latex for its automobile industry. Brazilian authorities had never encouraged a massive settlement towards Acre State to seal its “ownership”, but now the momentum was calling for it. Garcia wanted to be part of history! He was so excited that he didn’t even notice when the paper was on the floor in pieces. But lucky him he still had the phone number. Same day, he called and found out that a convoy was going to leave at midnight. Then, he started packing his personal items, the Manifest of the Communist Party, a pair of jeans, a red t-shirt of the Party, brushed his boots, and went straight to the bus terminal. There he was, happy in bus number 4. During the 3 days trip, he found out that 90 per cent of the soldiers were from the Northeast, Ceara State, who had previously made up their lives in Acre, but expelled by the guerrilleros. Garcia felt there was something else... All workers like him, aching hands, wrinkle faces, old young men. Fighting for Brazil, or simply looking for a spot to work and a little piece of land to raise up a family? No, it can’t be that “dry”! No idealism?!?! Garcia couldn’t imagine something without passion or idealism, he was a romantic communist! So, he had a mission, and it would be to show all those soldiers that there is something greater in that trip. It can’t be just “that”. Come on, a “Gringoland” is about to be formed! It could be at least a revolution! Garcia was predicting and daydreaming about his revolution: “In days of war when we feel union and share the little, an idealism is necessary to keep the cohesion. And this idealism is the Brazilian Communism!” He had 72 hours to light the fire of “passion”. On the first day, he highlighted the importance and why they would be traveling so far away representing Brazil in order to protect and reinforce Brazilian sovereign power over its territory. The Latex Soldiers and the Army would be expelling the guerrilleros for good. After that, national banks would be giving easy access to mortgage in order to quickly increase the Brazilian occupation of the State. Garcia had to know the exact timing for the explanations and that was mostly when all buses were having a pit stop together at a gas station or any convenience store on the way. Little by little, he was captivating his audience. The soldiers were finally ready for the second day of lecture. Once more he started his speech: “My comrades, we are going to Acre because we have a mission. And this mission is to expel the guerrilleros hired by the gringos! We will do it always stepping forwards because there is no “backwards”. There is only a way to do it: win or die! Then, he could hear in unison: Viva Acre! Garcia stepped down from boxes he had piled and started to speak with a different tone of voice. He explained that, once the territory was finally Brazilian and after the wave of excitement, the government would come with taxes. That would be also necessary to keep a permanent military base to protect them. What a surprise, the soldiers thought at a first glance. They started talking to each other. They were not real soldiers and were not really interested in keeping a military base in the area. More taxes? But if the taxes were going to be for the welfare of the community, so let it be. Protect and serve, that should be the public service, they thought. All of them went back to their buses. After 60 hours of traveling, and before getting to the final destination, Garcia asked the driver for a last stop. He said: Comrades, we are going to Acre in order to expel the guerrilleros and cease the Americans’ Gringoland! We shall win! There is only a way to do it: win or die! Again, a “Viva Acre” could be heard in unison. Now, Garcia knew he had to use a stronger tone of voice considering how dangerous a guerrilleros victory would be for the future of Acre. Next stage, if Fordland existed would be the most cruel in their history and probably in Brazilian, ever. Latex workers would have to work to big factories in order to survive, which means they wouldn’t be able to be self-employed but be employed by capitalists! After this speech, he thought he had finally sparked the flame of passion on those workers. The 10 buses arrived in Acre and all they needed was only 5 days to vanish the enemies from the map. As a reward, Brazilian government granted each soldier a house and a job. One year later, back to his daily routine as a bus driver, Garcia got back home and found in his mailbox a postcard. There was a picture of a large scale production plant and it said: “My dear friend, at the end, the Great company Ford came to the city because Brazilian government conceded to them 20 years exemption of taxes. But hey, I think you were wrong about this incredible company. Before they came, I was just a latex worker, but now I work for FORD and make 100 dollars to work 50 hours a week!