South America

Admittedly with empty pockets but healthy and full of new experiences I leave Brazil after 4 months stay. It was great! This country is huge and offers plenty of great stories. But for now i go to the other side of the world – Philippines, i’am coming home.

When it rains it pours

I left the cozy home and headed south to Tibau du Sol. My accomodation made ​​a beautiful and safe impression here. However, to my misfortune. In Brazil you must not be tempted by the looks. A week later my laptop was already in the hands of thieves. And with it about 2500 photos. It’s pathetic! And now my camera necessarily wanted to learn how to swim in Brazil, was deeply disappointed and doesn’t want to make any more pictures since then.

Football magicians

One can say a lot of stuff about the Brazilians – but playing football – they do it like little gods. Therefore, there is day and night on the football field the opportunity to prove his skills. Honestly – around the clock. The later and cooler, the fuller is the field.

Let’s change anything!

Unfortunately, in Taiba is not a single Brazilian who knows how to speak a word in english. Here it is – language learning in the chord. Agora eo posso fallar portugaise muito bom! But to understand the announcements in public citizens elections, it was still not enough then. Regardless of age everyone wants to be a part of the election through which new breath is blown in their village. Maybe it was just about what the highly coveted Caipirinha will cost in the future, unfortunately I didn’t understand anything at all.


And once again I ended up in one on mother’s earth great playgrounds. From my bed to the sea, it is only 25 small steps through the sand. Barefooted. One of those moments that captivate your body to the ground to provide your mind a maximum of flexibility until the touch of supernatural harmony catches you up and banishes your rigid in order to give you the feeling of indomitability. In front of me reach from the left to the right majestic looking, pristine sand dunes where the atlantic waves prostrate themselves over for miles.

What is happiness?

The class difference can be seen everywhere here. The rich can afford to do anything. Since the corrupt police tolerates much, as long as the wallet is drawn, vehicles may be steered under the influence of drugs or alcohol, parties are enjoyed regardless to losses and all crimes are consummated unpunished. The one who has wealth shows it purposely. However, we all know that money alone won’t make us happy, right?

Alô Vó, Tô estourado

The brazilian temper seems to be really relaxed, in no case hectic. Yes you could even call it casual, slack. Nevertheless there are always chores to deal with. Foraging ranks first…. closely spaced to handicraft work.. tons of it. This continues until the sun goes down and someone starts turning up the radio. Nothing works out here without music. In restaurants, on the moped, in the garage, on balconies, next to the soccer field, at the beach or even on the loading platform of a pick up truck; no matter where, the music appears to be everywhere. All over the place you can see huge loudspeakers hanging, laying and standing which turn every little village into a party and concert spot and may bring most of the unpracticed eardrums on their knees. The music is called Forró (for all). It is a mix of reggae and dancehall- only much better and way louder. Pumped by the music and being a little tipsy of the cachaca Simon and I went to our first Forró party.

A fishing village called Taiba

Brazil. When thinking of the fifth biggest country in the world three month ago, I inevitably had three ideas on my mind. Soccer, caipirinha and havaianas. Well, armed with that ignorance of knowledge I boarded my plane heading to Fortaleza. After the arrival at midnight a shuttle bus took us through some pretty shabby „favelas“ heading north, where the bus driver didn’t even want to stop at the red lights. Finally we came to a small fishing village at the Atlantic coast, called Taiba and I betook myself to the „Villa Marola“. That gorgeous, isolated pousada would be my home for the next couple of month and my little brother Simon who has arrived there one month earlier welcomed me with a sugared smile.