“A dog and a log”

There are days when I forget that the important things to me are not the important things to everyone.  I was most recently reminded of this when I came walking up a trail over Thanksgiving break to find Hannah sitting on a log; hot, sweaty, tired and with an ear to ear grin petting a dog that had somehow adopted us for the day.  I don’t honestly know how we seem to end up hosting random dogs, but it is not the first time.  We once rented an AirBnB and ended up dog sitting for an entire weekend.  We had thought the owner was joking when he asked if Buddy could stay with us, until he drove away.  Oops. Our most recent friend Pacoca is, as best as we can tell, just another resident of Ilha Grande off the coast of Brazil.  He met the girls on the beach on our second day and just kept following us as we walked.  Every other person would say hello to Pacoca, but no one seemed concerned that he was following the random tourists.  And so we walked, and Pacoca walked, and five hours later after hiking over mountains, climbing into a sea cave, and swimming in the ocean, we ended up back at the village where we started and Pacoca simply walked off up a side trail  to wherever it is that Pacoca spends the rest of his happy dog life.  And so Hannah declared mid-hike when I wandered up the trail towards her that all she needed to enjoy a good walk in the woods is a dog and a log.  So thanks Pacoca, for being that dog, and thanks Hannah, for being that kid.  

It has been a while since our last blog, and we continue to live the roller coaster that is the pandemic.  So here, in mostly chronological order, is what we have been up to in the last two months.

Our school had a week long break in October and it was the first time we had left the Brasilia area since March.  So we jumped on a plane, took a six hour drive into the middle of nowhere, and ended up in the heart of the Pantanal, a place like no other.  In our first twenty four hours, we had seen toucans, macaws, capybaras, and a jaguar.  By the end of the week, we had filled the animal bingo card by adding anteaters, a tapir, a puma, giant river otters,  and more caiman and piranhas than you really want to acknowledge.  It is the world’s largest tropical wetland, and I didn’t even know it existed before we came to Brazil.  We’ll throw a few pictures in the blog, but it is so hard to capture a place like the Pantanal.  And I know how silly it is to say it, but you “have to go”.

October 26th, Day One of Blended Learning:

Apparently “blended learning” is just teacher code for once again reimagining education, in your spare time.  Down here, blended learning means that my class is on campus for a week, and then back doing distance learning for a week.  And when we are on campus, I am teaching most of my class in person, while simultaneously broadcasting my lesson to other five year olds from my class who have chosen to stay at home.  So not only do I have to watch and engage the students in the room, I have to simultaneously watch and engage the kids at home, on Zoom, at the same time.   And let me tell you, conducting the Zoom seance in front of a live audience is not the best way to keep the five year olds on your carpet engaged.  “Ellie, are you there?  Ellie, can you hear us?  Ellie, please give us a sign.  Ellie, please don’t take the iPad into the bathroom!  Ellie, the whole class can see you!”  Let’s just say that teaching continues to be not boring.

Hamilton 

Did I mention we got a hamster, named Hamilton? We just call her Hammie, because well, she’s a girl.  Apparently it is anatomically distracting when you have a boy hamster, so we are going to call her Hammie, at least until she requests otherwise.  And because apparently we chose the cutest hamster in the world, we will now be researching how to acquire US citizenship for a rodent.  But the little FuzzButt, Hannah’s name, has grown on all of us, and we can’t see leaving her here.  

Thanksgiving. 

No, we didn’t even try to do the turkey dinner thing, but we were able to leave town again and see another new to us part of Brazil, a coastal island called Ilha Grande.  It is a car free island about twelve kilometers off the coast, and as close to a tropical paradise as we have visited.  Yes, there are giant spiders, venomous ten foot long snakes, heat and humidity, and near vertical trails, but the beaches are amazing, the water is crystal clear, and the trails are empty.  Our favorite day involved a hike across the island to a fishing village where they were hosting a beach soccer tournament with teams from around the island.  We hung out, swam and met a man with an old wooden boat who drove us out to a remote beach and then around the island back to our hotel.  

Our Covid numbers are back on the rise, but are still way lower than the United States, and we have the advantage of not heading into winter, so we are hopeful that this bump is not a wave.  It stills feels strange every day to be living the dual existence of living here and worrying about home.  I read the New York Times every morning, and it feels at once so close and so far away.  We feel incredibly lucky to be able to explore Brazil again, and we feel incredibly sad that folks stateside are facing some seriously tough months ahead.  It is strange for us to start to think about the fact that we are heading into the last quarter of our time here in Brazil.  We are having conversations about when we are flying home, and what things we will bring with us, when it feels like we just landed and moved in.   

We feel lucky every day to be healthy, we try every day to be grateful, and we hope every day for some happiness.  We wish the same to all of you.

Be safe,  be healthy, be happy, and enjoy the pictures.

The Pantanal

Hammie, and Hannah

Thanksgiving on Ilha Grande

The Q-tip of Comfort

 

I don’t know how many of you have had a Covid Test, but apparently you really want to pay attention to which box you check under test type.  Sara and I had ours this week as part of our returning to school in person protocol, and let’s just say that not all tests are created equal.  There is the blood test, which for the needle averse, could be scary.  And then there is the nasal swab, which can best be described as a fiery poker to the brain.  I had heard that it was uncomfortable, but clearly that was coming from aliens who have a much higher discomfort threshold than I do.  Granted, I should have known there was going to be some ”discomfort” when the nurse pulled the swab from the package like she was pulling a ninja sword from a scabbard.  Do you remember those really long matches that people kept around their fireplaces for lighting the kindling from a safe distance?  Yes, well those are short compared to the nasal swab.   And so, despite looking at the world’s longest Q-tip, I was still naive enough to think that maybe it’s really long so that she doesn’t have to get too close to me.  Wrong, we got intimate.  And it’s not really so bad initially, it’s just that it takes long enough to actually penetrate the brain that you are convinced that when she hesitates for a second that she has made it in as far as she needs.  I think that pause must have been so she could make that ninety-degree turn somewhere north of my eyeball before really getting in there deep.  I am pretty sure I saw cotton in the corner of my eye as the swab went by.  And it’s not like it’s just in and out.  It’s in, pause, adjust; in further, pause, adjust; in further, and jackpot, cerebellum.  And don’t forget the twisting, because apparently you can’t just find the end of the rainbow, you need to spin the Q-tip of Comfort in order to find the entire rainbow. And oh yes, there were tears, uncontrolled tears.  Of pain, of discomfort, and mostly of relief as she finally pulled the swab out.  But what they don’t tell you in the manual is that apparently Covid might only be present in one nostril.  So yeah, it’s a package deal, and nostril number two knows what’s coming.

So that’s fun.  Clearly things remain interesting down here.   I won’t say that things are better or worse for us, just the same and different all at once.  Sara and I were at school this week trying to wrap our heads around how we are going to teach our students, and maintain safety and social distancing when we return to campus, which happens for us in three weeks, hence the test.  Our family will have to go from near zero exposure to being communally exposed to over half of the student population once we all are back on campus and bringing all the viral love home to share.  Yes, with the numbers as high as they still are in Brasilia, we are nervous.   Thankfully, our school has the resources to do this right, and Brasilia itself has a favorable climate that allows open windows, fresh air,  and being outside, which should make a big difference.   And we have one more week of school before we get a weeklong break, which is always a moment to savor.   

We remain grateful that we are healthy, that we have friends on both halves of the earth to lean on, and that we have each other, especially right now in our crazy world.  Be safe, be happy,  and be well.  And if you can find it in yourself to help others do those same things, even better.   

Love to all, thanks to all, and don’t sneeze on the swab lady.  She doesn’t like that.

Ups and Downs

Stress is cumulative.   That’s one of those adages that you hear so many times, but it doesn’t seem to penetrate until you hear it as you are living it.  Now I hear it. Stress is cumulative.  It feels like a toxin that builds up in your system until it reaches a level where it starts causing damage.  And like so many other things, just stopping the accumulation of stress isn’t enough.  Stress seems to have the half life of uranium-232, and like Covid, there is no pill you can take to make it go away.  So not only do you have to stop accumulating stress, you have to then figure out a way to reduce stress, so it slowly leaches from your system, hopefully sending you back into the world of manageable levels.  Unfortunately, this is not some sort of self-help blog where I regale you with the ten simple steps to a stress free life, this is our life in the pandemic.  Stress is not always negotiable.  I don’t get to choose to not worry about every interaction I have every time I leave the apartment.  If I don’t want Covid, I don’t get a choice about wearing a mask.  I don’t get to go and meet a friend for dinner at a restaurant.  We haven’t gone to a restaurant since March.   Hell, we haven’t hugged someone outside our family since March, and we are in the hugging capital of the world.  I have probably averaged one real face to face conversation a week with someone not living with me in that time.  That’s ugly.  

I think that we had convinced ourselves that we were rejuvenated after our June and July holidays, but I think we simply were doing enough positive things that they offset all the negatives and our stress level plateaued.  I now understand just how precarious that balance was because school has been that extra layer of stress that we weren’t ready for.  And it wasn’t that teensy little straw that broke the camel’s back.  It was the Wile E. Coyote anvil dropping from the sky.  Today, tonight, too much is too hard.  There is no joy in the Mudville of distance learning.  It is all the stress, and more, of teaching, with ten percent of the joy.  It turns out, I really do like children.  What I wouldn’t give right now to solve a meaningless argument over the proper procedure for sharing the one pink ruler at the table.  I would smile to again see a five year old look me in the eye as I give them directions, and then completely ignore everything I said.  I look so forward to reteaching the short vowel sounds so many times to that one student that I question my sanity,  because at least I would get to see more than a flat expression on Zoom.  

So, if it is not abundantly clear, today, things are not all rainbows and unicorns.  It is Thursday of Week 5 of this year, and  Month 5 overall, of distance learning and I might just be a little tired.  But this is our life tonight, in this moment, and that’s the story these words are meant to portray.  Tomorrow will be better.  We will be ok.  We have a three day weekend ahead of us and an extra day will make all the difference right now.  If this makes you feel bad, that was not my intention.  This is simply our story of today.  If you want to help, send my wife a text or email telling her you are thinking of her, and don’t be upset when she doesn’t reply.   If your children know my children, they would appreciate the same.   As for me, I’m ok, I just wrote it all out and won’t respond to texts anyways because I’ll be asleep on the couch. 

As always, be safe, be happy, be well,

Adam

My son doesn’t like it when you smile.

Seriously!   Seriously!  I am killing myself trying to teach your child and nineteen other five year olds on Zoom and this is the feedback that I get.  We are in our third week of starting a brand new school year with brand new students completely online, and are completely overwhelmed, and that was how I ended a conference with a parent today.  To put the start of this year in perspective for those of you who know both Sara and I and our respective balances of work and life, let me describe how hard I am working right now by saying that I am working as hard as regular Sara.  Except that distance learning Sara is working twice as hard as regular Sara, which is both confusing and frightening for anyone who knows how hard regular Sara works.

I wish I could say that I’m sure it will be easier for our teacher friends who are starting soon, but I can’t.  It’s rough.  And not just a little, oh look a new reading curriculum rough, but more like a this is different than anything I have done as a teacher rough.  Everything is different.  Nothing feels familiar.  Zoom is awkward, slow, and glitchy.  Interactions and relationships feel flat and impersonal.  Ok, not quite everything is that bad. Of the the thousands of things teachers do every day, one thing is easier on Zoom, quieting your class.  You might notice I very carefully didn’t say stopping your class from talking.  That is ludicrous.  But yes, the Mute All button does make for a very quiet digital classroom when needed.  At least for the 1 and 1/2 seconds it takes them to notice and turn their microphones back on.  And sorry my K-2 friends, it is the hardest for you.  Sara’s fifth graders can already do an amazing amount of things in week three, and Hannah and Lila have transitioned to the new digital school year easier than we expected, so distance learning definitely works better in general for older kids.  But, and it is a huge but, this only works when students have the equipment, internet and family support needed to make this happen.  We are at a very affluent school and almost every child has a device, internet access, and some sort of adult by their side when needed.  That is such a luxury, and it still feels like we are swimming upstream every day, so it will be so much harder in many places.  Ok, enough teacher talk (except for the smile thing, which we will come back to).

Happy One Year in Brazil to Us!  Crazy!

It is hard for any of the four of us to believe that we have been in Brazil for a year. It has been one of those strange moments in our lives where time has at once slowed to a crawl and also moved at light speed.  We have done so much, and have had so many amazing experiences, that it feels like we must have already been here longer than a year.  And in the same breath, our time here is half over in just a blink and we feel like we are cresting a rolling wave heading towards the backside.

Interestingly, lots of people have expressed sympathy for our situation, as if somehow our experience here has been lessened by having happened in the middle of a pandemic.  While I totally understand that thinking, it is the complete opposite of how we see things.  Of course we would have liked the pandemic not to be happening, but we don’t have any monopoly on those feelings just because we are in Brazil.  In many ways, we are incredibly lucky to be doing this right now.  If we had waited and accepted jobs in Brazil starting this year, I am not sure we would have been able to come.  It was scary enough moving our family here when life was “normal”.  Sara and I don’t think we could have pulled it off, or would have wanted to, had we waited a year and been trying to move right now.  Anyone who helped us barely get out of the US under ideal conditions last year can attest to just how little room we had to spare in making that happen.  And there is no telling what the international teaching scene is going to look like in the years to come, so yes, we are still so happy that we came when we did.

And I’ll say it again.  We are lucky.  We are healthy.  We are happy, all things considered.  We live in a really cool, interesting city.  We continue to find new, beautiful places every weekend. And we aren’t suffering like so many.   Now we don’t take any of this for granted, and we are fully aware that things can change in an instant, but that is forever true for everyone.

Ok, back to the smile thing.  I have to admit that it was a strange thing to hear, especially because I so often hear from students  and families that I am always smiling, which until this moment I assumed was a good thing.  What the hell am I going to do if I smiling is no longer ok?  Mayday!  Luckily, I had a meeting with other teachers on my team right after this encounter and I shared the story with them. The rest of the story is that mom wanted me to know that her son was scared of speaking English in front of me because he thought that I was laughing at him when I smiled.  What!  That didn’t make it any clearer.  Well, thank goodness for my teaching team, because it took a Brazilian perspective to help me understand what might be going on.  One of my co-teachers explained that basically, I am not macho.  Shocking I know, but hear me out.  She thinks that this young man may only have men in his life who smile when they are making jokes at other people’s expense.  She thinks that the men in his life may all be old school Brazilian types who don’t play with kids unless it is on weekends at barbecues in between telling stories and making fun of people with other like minded men.  Basically, she is guessing that the smiles this young man sees on men’s faces are most often there when those men are laughing because they are making fun of someone.  Whoa!  Not something I had considered.  And that is where she gently explained to me that in Brazil, it is unusual for men to teach kindergarten, and so, well, I would be considered not macho.  Ok, that’s a not macho label I can live with.  Now I just have to figure out how to not smile and still connect with this young man, at least until he gets used to being taught by a not macho unicorn of a teacher.

Bend friends, and Bear Creekers especially, our hearts are hurting alongside you at what has come to our little town.  Thank you for taking a stand for those families.  Our thoughts are with you.

Be safe, be well, and be happy,

Beijos from Brazil,

Adam, Sara, Lila and Hannah 

The Bold and the Bitten.

So I signed up to get text summaries of news articles from the local newspaper, Correio Brasilense, which is both informative and helpful for my Portuguese.  Not surprisingly, I get articles about Covid counts, political happenings, the approach of the dry season, and lottery results.   All things I expected.  What I didn’t expect was the ongoing real life soap opera about the veterinary student bitten by a snake that popped up in my feed.  I gave it a quick read, got hooked, and have been anxiously awaiting every update.  It has become a real life soap opera and also a welcome break to find this quirky little story shoehorned in between all of the serious articles of the day.  Clearly someone at the newspaper is as desperate to spice things up as I am to read about something other than politics and Covid because new articles about this story have been published almost daily for several weeks now.

Now, a couple things before I share my cliff notes version of As The Snake Bites.  

First, this is my retelling of my translation, so well, you know.  And it is also the kind of story that really just calls out for some exaggeration and literary license.  All known falsehoods and attempts to fabricate a back story will be designated in italics.  Everything else is the truth as far as my Portuguese knows it.  

Next, the student bitten by the snake is ok, and getting better.  

Last, the Portuguese word for snake is cobra, which takes some getting used to.  It helps to realize that there are no cobras native to Brazil, but it does still get your attention when someone says to not step on the cobra over there.

Lead Off Article: 22 year old veterinary student shows up at hospital having been bitten by snake.  Concerning, yes, out of the ordinary, I don’t know.  It’s the first snakebite I have heard of happening here.

Second Article: Snake in question is a cobra, which the article explains does not live in Brazil.  This flies in the face of my understanding of Portuguese until I read on and see that it is not just a generic portuguese “cobra”, but a “cobra naja” which is the real deal cobra from Asia.  So it’s the “naja” part you have to pay attention to.  Note to self to open with that question when I next meet a snake.

Third Article: Police cannot find said cobra and open an investigation into the origin of the now missing snake.  What? How do you lose a snake?  Is this like the boa constrictors who have been released into the wild in Florida and are running rampant?  Are there Asiatic Cobras running amok in Brasilia?  I am assuming that the student who was bitten is in no shape to tell them where to find the snake.

Fourth Article: Cobra is mysteriously and anonymously delivered to a shopping mall nowhere near where the student lives.  Oh, now it’s getting good.  This is like cloak and dagger, electronically altered voice stuff.  “The snake you are looking for is behind the Orange Julius at the mall.  You have thirty minutes.”  My guess here is that the friends of Mister Snakebite were smart enough to know that the hospital can’t really do much until they know what kind of snake bit their buddy, but were also still hoping to avoid trouble.

So the police apprehend the snake, which amounts to finding the clear rubbermaid the snake calls home.  According to the article, the snake is quite pleasant and not at all aggressive, showing clear signs of being someone’s pet: asking to be let out to poop, drinking from the toilet, turning it’s nose up at canned rat, etc. 

Fifth Article:  This one is about Mister Snakebite’s social media accounts, which show him with not only the apprehended snake, but other illegal and exotic snakes.  Seriously, you couldn’t come up with a better hobby than photoshoots with illegal venomous snakes?  Interestingly, the police cannot locate any of those other snakes now.

Next Article: Mister Snakebite is now in a coma awaiting anti-venom, of which there is only one dose in Brazil, located a flight away in Sao Paolo.  I am actually impressed there is a dose somewhere in country considering the snake is not native to Brazil.  Somewhere there is someone in a procurement office telling a buddy, “see, I told you we would need that.”

Next Article: The police interview the victim’s friends and began a citywide search for the other snakes from the social media posts that are now suspected to be in the area.  Through one source or another,  the police locate an entire illegal snake breeding operation where they think that the original Mister Bitey Snake came from, eventually finding 16 other snakes hidden in a horse stall in a barn.  It becomes like one of those massive drug busts where all the confiscated drugs are on display like a trophy, except it’s a pile of clear rubbermaid bins.  Somehow them all being stashed under a pile of hay in a barn just makes it all the better.

Next Article: The snake breeding ring collapses, and the defendants claim that all the snakes were being kept for scientific observation.  That is the herpetologist’s version of “I didn’t inhale!”  Meanwhile, the victim wakes from his coma, thanks the hospital staff for saving him, and has a curious craving for cuy.

Next Article: With help from the herpetologists at the zoo in Brasilia, it is found that ten of the sixteen snakes are not native to Brazil.  So now, perhaps just to increase readership and curb appeal, the group of friends under investigation gets designated as an international smuggling operation, sadly without the additional even sexier “with ties to organized crime” status, but we will take what we can get.

And just because, while the expanding police search is unable to locate any more snakes, it does manage to find three illegal sharks.  So now we have an illegal shark operation too?  What fifth grader made up this story? The sharks claim not to know any of the snakes in question.

The author of the most recent and final article I have seen decided it would be important for everyone to know the going rate to illegally purchase a venomous cobra, which is about R$7,000.  And just so you know, with the current exchange rate, there really is no better time to buy.  Thankfully the author also saved their journalistic integrity by including the legally available list of snakes for purchase, reputable locations for said purchases, and which snake is trending right now, which apparently is the rainbow boa.

And so Snakes of Our Lives has come to an end.  As serious as wildlife trafficking is, it was sure nice to have something to read in the newspaper that made me smile more than it did cry.  No matter where you are, and no matter your situation, it is my genuine hope that you can still find small moments that make you smile.

With heads down and hopes up from Brasilia,

Be safe, be well, and be happy,

Adam

Limbo in Brasilia

                                            Limbo in Brasilia.   

I started writing this blog entry about a month ago, and I have come back to it several times, but it has been a hard one to write.  I think maybe it is because what is happening in our lives pales in comparison with what is going on in the world right now.   It feels strange to put out anything right now, but my intention has been that this will be a record of our time down here, and so this is our life.  

We find ourselves at the half way mark of our “summer”, such as it is, and it isn’t easy.   Our glorious plans of family and friends coming to Brazil,  and visits to Peru, have evaporated and we find ourselves, like so many others, facing an uncertain moment.  When it was clear that we weren’t going to be having the summer we planned, we started working on the summer we didn’t plan, and part of that discussion was whether to return to the United States.  We chose not to, which may sound weird if you are only catching the headlines about Brazil, but we are feeling good about our choice and are trying to make the best of it.  Brasilia proper is still doing pretty well right now in managing Covid 19.  We have space in our hospitals, lots of testing available, and a community that for the most part is taking precautions seriously and wearing masks and giving space.  You can’t leave your home without a mask here, and many stores also take your temperature before you can walk in the door.  Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for the outlying satellite cities around Brasilia.  Like the US, we are facing a rise in cases in new areas, and no one is sure where things are headed.  It is strange to watch masks be so political back home while living in a place, as localized as it is,  where people generally accept and support them as a part of the greater good.   To sum it up, we are healthy, we are feeling safe here, and we are just living in the global limbo like so many others.

The end of the school year is already a long time ago, and ending it without being together was hard for all of us.  Our school did everything they could to make the end of year special for every student.  Our graduating seniors had their ceremony at a drive in movie theatre with the videos of the speakers projected on the big screen.   Hannah and the rest of the 8th graders got to do a car parade where they all lined up and drove laps though the drop off loop at the front of school with music, balloons, gifts, and lots of smiles and tears behind masks.  Lila and the fifth graders had their own similar car parade the following day, and it definitely helped.

Lila has continued her maracuja (passion) project about running on into the summer, which is great for her, and me.  We are running four times a week.  Three short runs of different types and then one longer run on the weekends.  She ran 12k on trails around Brasilia last weekend, her longest run ever, and ended with enough energy to consider doing a few more kilometers just for fun.  Hannah has been doing everything she can do avoid running, but is doing just fine with online workouts, bike rides, and paddle boarding. 

A fortunate part of making the best of it was two weeks house sitting for a family from school who did decide to go back to the US.  We spent two weeks in their home in Brasilia, which includes a pool, a yard, amazing views, and great wildlife.  We had families of marmosets using the fence line as a primate highway, toucans hanging out in the yard, leafcutter ants putting on a nightly show at the pool’s edge, and daily flights of blue and gold macaws overhead.  The girls enjoyed all that, but not nearly as much as they did taking care of our friends’ puppy.  Pepa is a snuggly, goofy, big eared, floppy, chew anything in sight, sleep on your pillow, snore like a grandpa,  French Bulldog puppy.  Not surprisingly, the girls couldn’t have picked a better way to spend two weeks.  

We have also managed to find a little hidden gem of a natural area just outside Brasilia where we have spent at least one day a week for the last month hiking, swimming, and exploring.  It is called Poco Azul, the Blue Well, and it has a reputation for being crowded and boring.  Which it is, if you only hike to the single waterfall the area is named for.  Brazilians, like Americans, tend to go the closest attraction they can and stop there, which is an interesting trait, but totally fine with us because that means a little more work can give you a waterfall to yourself.  On our second trip to Poco Azul, there were forty or so people gathered at the main spot, and only four people at an equally gorgeous waterfall just ten minutes further down the trail.  Granted, if you want to leave the “highway” you do have to do some route finding and the trails are rugged and not well marked, but it has been worth it.  The girls potentially would disagree a little bit with that statement since our first attempt at exploring the area might have led to scrambling up some near vertical cliffs and possibly almost having to hike out in the dark, but really, who’s counting?  The new system of hiking to a known waterfall, and sending me out to scout ahead before the next leg, has led to a much higher success rate, and we still have areas to go back to we have not seen yet.

We now have two paddle boards, and have ordered a third, so we can all spend time out on the lake looking for caiman and herds of capybara and enjoying a bathtub temperature swim on a hot day.  Being on, around, or just in sight of water continues to work its magic for our family in every way.

So here we are. We have all had a quarantine birthday.  No one has had a haircut.   We are watching the news from the US with a mix of horror, shame, and sadness.  We are having conversations as a family around class, race and privilege that we never have had before.  We have more days of thriving than surviving as an isolated family unit.  We hold out hope that real change is possible for the US.  We worry more than normal about everything, and we also are thankful more than normal for what we have, knowing that even now we live such fortunate lives.  We have a month of break left, and beyond that, we really don’t know what lies ahead.

Be safe, be happy, and be well,

Adam, Sara, Lila and Hannah

Yes, that is Hannah and Sara, and yes, Hannah is now taller.  Don’t let Sara’s heels fool you.

Lila in her fancy graduation dress keeping some distance with a friend at her event.

This is Lila on her 12k run around the lake.  This is the first of three groups of capybara we saw.
Don’t let the cute fool you, the biggest of those rodents can push two feet tall at the shoulders and go well over 100 pounds.

Not a bad spot for a staycation.

Sunset, Sara’s favorite time at the house.

The infamous Pepa.

Lucky to still be able to go places like this.

Every waterfall area has a Bridal Veil falls, and. this area is no exception. 

My hair is even longer than this now, but sadly the mustache got vetoed by the family.
Magnum P.I. would have been proud.