In a tiny nutty shell

100 Words on Green February 10, 2008

There is something elusive about Brazil that I can’t pin down. Portuguese twists out of their mouths and I can’t untangle the words. My Spanish does me no good. Only 200 miles of coastline separated me from the wide expanse of the green Amazon. I could float up the river and emerge unnoticed. Would I find football hooligans or the pulsating energy of Carnival dancing down the street at 4 am? My country sleeps when the sun goes down; Brazil breaks open from sardine cans and goes streaking into the ocean. I want to put on sequins and go dancing too.