São Jorge


Habushu

Nestled among the brush of the Brazilian cerrado, São Jorge grows out of the red earth like dry grass. Cars with choking exhausts drive in from nowhere in particular, throwing up dust that drifts and lingers in their trail. People with dark skin, people with light skin, people with dark hair, and people with hair as red as the earth all mingle beneath low-slung verandas. There are no fair-haired people here, and so they call me ‘Galego’, and everyone knew who the Galego was. On one occasion when some friends were looking for me, they only asked the closest passer-by if they had seen ‘Galego’, and were notified that he was ‘Reading a book at the bar two streets down’.

In the early evening, locals and São Jorge frequents tread in their Havaianas up an old dirt track that leads up and away from the village. Rising up against…

View original post 894 more words

About agogo22

Director of Manchester School of Samba at http://www.sambaman.org.uk
This entry was posted in General. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.