Aaaahhh, Week number 2 in Brazil is now drawing to a close. For me, these past few days have been a big mix of emotions and relatively small, but mentally substantial experiences. So far, the bottom line is that moving here, living here, and working here, is tough. With a lot of time ahead of me and limited resources to use, careful calculation of all my supplies is crucial... Finding and apartment and going through the process to get it has been an absolutely excruciating experience.... As for finding work without an MBA or degree in computer programming, it is something I deliberately try not to think about each day unless I see an opportunity, otherwise a wave of panic and stress hits me that is so intense I have to sit down to avoid fainting. 
     Despite the daily moments where I want to hit the eject button and just blow myself straight into the moon, there are a lot of great things about this place and I constantly try to keep myself in possession of a positive perspective. I have a very fantastic person helping me, along with her family, who are immensely generous and supportive, and without these people to help me, I probably would have been murdered already, if anything. The ability to succeed here, without working for IBM to begin with, is wholly based on who you know and who you meet. Furthermore, I figure that if I wasn't here, broke and looking for a job, I would be back home in America, broke and looking for a job, so I might as well go through the experience in Brazil, where the food is good and cheap, I'm with my woman, and every single second adds a major portion of life experience to my character, even more so than if I was in America. 
     If I were back home right now, finding an apartment and a job would be tough, but I would casually mill about, taking BART or driving around, talking to people to get information, and, overall, enjoy a level of fluency with everyday life, leaving my only worries to the actual job and housing alone. Here, before I even worry about those two things, I have to deal with how to get from A to B on a bus system with no maps and no one speaking English. I have to worry about not getting robbed of all my money or killed on the street by some bandit, or accidentally maimed by a person driving crazy (the norm here). I have to worry about currency exchange rates, how to get money from A to B, the do's and don'ts of my passport, illness, and all kinds of other stuff that I don't worry about much in the USA. In the morning, I have to worry about how much toothpaste I use and how much deodorant I put on, because buying more equals less money, and less money equals being economically immobilized. Not such a bad thing if I could just walk back to my parents house and let Mom cook for me, but down here, I am not exactly around the corner from Piedmont Ave anymore. No matter what, I try to remember that every instance of craziness I experience here, strengthens me as an individual. On a daily basis, my fluency with the urban geography and the language improves drastically and I am excited to see how my knowledge level will be in a month.
     An interesting thing I have noticed has been my interaction with other foreigners. In China, the country and culture were SO different from anything Western, that all the foreigners would band together in a sort of tribe and we all looked to each other for help, support, opportunities, anything, and all these things were offered out of the collective desire for all of us to make it. I do not want to generalize and I hope to God things change, but so far, on both internet forums and in-person, I have met a lot of people, mostly from the US, who have been instrumental in deflating my enthusiasm and basically told me to go home. Probably, it is because the opportunities are definitely not as abundant as they had been in China 3 years ago... Here, Brazilians are so capable and educated, that rarely is a foreigner in need... If you do get a job here as an expat, you are insanely lucky. So, because of this, Brazil itself becomes a jewel coveted by each expat that is allowed to partake of its grandeur. No English teacher wants to help another English teacher exist in the same town as far as I can tell. Another foreigner around means competition, not company like it did in China. My first rule for success here so far, is that I do not want to see any other foreigners, especially ones who speak English. Sorry, it just does not help.
     Fortunately for me, I've had this really bad problem since I was a little kid; when someone tells me I can't do something, I get really sad. Then, shortly after, I don't like them at all anymore, because, all positives of realistic advice aside, life is too short to listen to people who give you anything, but encouragement. Shortly after I decide to never talk to those people again, I get angry at the possibility of my dreams not coming true, and downright offended that someone could even voice such a possibility. From that point on, it's like throwing Duraflame logs into a locomotive... Whatever motivation I had to succeed before is nothing in comparison to what follows when it is implied that I might not make it. I will try until the bitter end, until my cold, dead body comes to a halt in the process. Whatever the cost to make sure those people don't turn out to be right, I will pay it.
     So, each day, I prowl the internet for work, and survey signs on the street offering employment in anything. I have made an extensive resume for myself (Curriculo Vitae here) and sent it to companies I never would've imagined myself applying to before; Google, IBM... I think my resume is pretty substantial for my age and I hope any employer who interviews me is somewhat attracted to my full-blown determination to live here and the fact that I AM here, even if it means that I will be a janitor. I really don't care. I told my father a few days ago that my current theme phrases are; "As long as I'm getting paid." and "Whatever. I've seen worse". Hehe, my folks give me a lot of grief about coming out here and not just going to grad school, but that is just not where I'm at right now. I think about school sometimes and it definitely I wan to go back at some point, but when it is time I will know and when it is time, I will go. 
     I like to think instinctively and I know that I'm like a Chimpanzee. If I get put in the zoo, locked in walls, where everyday things like food and comfort and guaranteed but routine, I go crazy. Next thing you know, I'm trying to bite the workers, throwing poop at tourists, and tearing my own hair out. This chimp is not ready to go back to the zoo yet. Soon though, I'll go back. I can feel it. I like school, I like learning, and I want to make a stable living, but right now, I need this experience. I think is has a lot of benefit that will come in handy when I do go back. I'll be a skilled and well traveled chimp, the most famous one at the zoo, a real moneymaker. LOL.
     To sum it up, it has been tough so far. I strive to enjoy the small things each day and to be thankful for what I have. As I drift around, unemployed and homeless (I am staying at a home, not actually on the street, just without my own home) I rely on my determination, I remember my purpose here, and I try to keep myself busy with small projects. In these past few days, I have produced a book of black and white photography, consisting of images related to the urban flavor of Brazil. I called the book "iLens" and ordered one copy to be assembled and mailed to my folks in Berkeley. At some point, I will have it reproduced for a cheaper cost so people can afford to purchase it if they want. I think it is really cool and was excited to make it. Each photo comes with a prescribed sound and taste that the viewer is supposed to experience while viewing the image, to really get a feel for it. It was my latest attempt to share my perspective with people. Next, I plan to assemble another photo portfolio of exotic flowers that I have been photographing with my macro. Some really beautiful stuff. 
     I'm excited for what's ahead. No matter what, it will only get more interesting. 

Chicken Empadas

Note: The following recipe will be to make a type of empada that is very common in Brazil, but different from the one in this photo. The chicken in this shot was just too good looking to ignore. Enjoy!

Ingredients

The Crust
- 1 Kg, Wheat Flour
- 2 Eggs
- 1/2 Kg, Vegetable Shortening
- 1/2 Kg, Creamy Margarine
- Pinch Of Salt
- Bit Of Water
- 1 Chicken Breast
- 1 Clove, Garlic
- 1 Onion
- Seasonings Of Your Preference (Parsley, Salet, Pepper)

Preperaration

The Crust
1.) In a bowl, add 2 eggs, the vegetable shortening, margarine, and mix well
2.) Add the wheat flour, a little water, and salt for taste, mix well
3.) Dough should be very, very thick, add more wheat if necessary
4.) Shape dough into balls (A little bigger than a ping-pong ball), place on tray and leave in fridge for 2 minutes
5.) While the dough firms up, select a tray that will fo for empadas, (a cupcake tray would be good)
6.) Grease the tray, remove the dough from the fridge, use one ball per slot to line the inside
- Set aside a good portion of dough to serve as the covering for each Empada, you will need it after you fill them

The Filling
1.) Bake the chicken breast (make sure to keep it juicy) then shred it
2.) Add a bit of olive oil to a shallow pan, heat up, and simmer 1 clove of chopped garlic and 1 chopped onion
3.) Sauté shredded chicken in garlic and onion
4.) Add parsley, salt, and pepper, to your liking

Putting It All Together
1.) Fill each formed pastry shell with a generous stuffing of the chicken mixture (add some cheese if you like)
2.) Ball up extra dough, flatten and press onto to top of each filled shell
3.) Place in preheated oven (Approximately 275 Degrees) and cook for about 30 minutes, until empadas are golden brown
4.) Let cool, tap out of tray, and enjoy

This week, we are going to focus on some cardio work and it is going to start getting downright painful... For this week's workout, you will need a jump rope, a clock, and a towel for your sweat and tears... One activity you will need to know how to perform is the "burpee", a vicious little jail house exercise that requires you to do a jumping jack, then immediately drop down and perform a push up, then pop back up to repeat that movement again... Check YouTube for some visual references, but make sure to do a full jumping jack with full arm extension, not a fake one! Ok, get in the zone... Here we go.


Workout 6

Warm Up
10 squats
10 jumping jacks
10 push ups

Activity
4 x (20 burpees followed by 3 minutes of full speed jump rope)

Cool Down
10 pushups
50 crunches
25 situps

Stretch

     In a final farewell to my native country, the United States of America, I went on a roadtrip with my parents and family friends, to go out and experience some of our favorite places to visit. Our friends were from Swtizerland and it was their first time to have an extensive viewing of the US, with tour guides capable of showing them an authentic perspective of the country. Hence, the purpose of the trip was twofold and my desire to spend my last days in contemplative company with my folks took a backseat to the most important thing; helping foreigners to love all that we love.
     I want to first point out that showing people your own country is always a very intresting thing because often, through their fresh persective, you gain a different vision of things. All the elements taken for granted, not only geographical or physical structures, but also the way we interact and behave, are all analyzed by visitors and ofte commented on. Sometimes, it is stunning to hear when a person points out things like, how magnificent a freeway maze looks, how big cars are, or how interesting it is to see our different handshakes... Aaah, I admit I am proud when I say that from what I have seen in this world, the way we bap hands and greet each other in California is a method that has infiltrated and consequentially become a favorite in so many cultures. Europe, South America, Asia, so many places are home to flourishing social trends where the focus is on slapping hands, letting them slide back, then bumping fists. Many people in these places can indeed do a fine job of the hand bump, like my Swiss friend Cedric (one of our guests), but no thrill comes close to performing it with a American, especially a Californian, the globally personified authority of the coollest handshake as far as I can tell.
     We toured some amazing places, had some unforgettable experiences, and even got a chance to go on the Grand Canyon Skywalk, the transparent walkway that allows you to stand and look down 4,000 feet above the floor of the Grand Canyon. Yosemite, Death Valley, Mt. Whitney, Monument Valley to name a few. We motored along for hours talking about what we were seeing, discussing politics, and struggling to comprehend the Ford Flex GPS system, a seemingly futile struggle for the first week. We ran around on the salt flats of Furnace Creek in Death Valley, cooled ourselves in the present breezes below Half Dome, and marveled at the art deco spectacularity of the Hoover Dam... We even got a chance to witness the fantastic production "Ka" by Cirque du Soleil. It was an amazing trip...
     In the culminating leg of the journey, I watched the sun sink into its Western bed, coating the expanse of the San Joaquin Valley with gentle shades of colors that cannot be explained. After 2,700 miles of driving in little over a week, I was dead tired and ready to be done, as all of us were. I was a bit upset that I did not get to spend my last days in America as I had planned to; rehearsing the past with friends and familiar places, but, in the end, I realized that this last road trips was one of the deepest goodbyes I could have... It was a goodbye to the soil I am from. My friends and family will always be able to visit me if they just try, and all the good times we always have can come with them, but things like Yosemite, and driving for hours through the Nevada desert with my parents, and trying on cowboy hats in places called Bishop, Tonopah, and Kayenta, will never come. Those are experiences reserved for the most intimate and deep chasms of American culture... Experiences that can only be savored in full on American soil, where the fate of the universe brings their components together to manifest unique experiences for those who encounter them. I looked out the window unto the Valley on that last night. I felt the tiredness in my bones. I remembered the rest stops and rednecks. Funny smells and accents. All of it. I remembered how many times I had done it before and all the hours spent on the road in my life, driving with no other purpose than to see my own country. As the windmill of Split Pea Anderson's approached on the horizon, reminding me that the burial place of my grandfather would be coming up on the left, I realized that this last road trip was the best thing I could have done before leaving. I had my parents to spend time with and a group of new friends to inform about the wonders of my country. It was a truly rewarding time.
     My last night in America was spent at McNally's Irish pub on College Ave. in Berkeley. The road trip was a good, large-scale experience, but the final night at McNally's was- well... I would not have spent the last night any other way. I knew what I wanted to do on my last night in America; drink beer, blast elk in Big Game Hunter, play bumper pool, and say as many intoxicated swear words as possible in conversations with people who would comprehend what I was talking about. Then, all too soon, the night was over. The next morning, I woke up, finalized my packing, and spent some time with my brother and sisters, parents, friends, and little baby nieces! A few hours later, I was on the plane to Miami... Backpack-strapped, ukulele in-hand. 
     On the plane, I laughed when I thought about what I had packed. For 6 months of overseas stay, I have one bag of clothes, one bag of martial arts gear, one ukulele, and one backpack for important stuff. I wanted to keep my situation as lightweight as possible in case something happens and I end up needing to exfiltrate myself over long distances on foot- I like to plan for the worst. It's what I do... The funniest thing for me was my observation of my own evolution in packing planning. Years ago, for this trip, I would have brought 5 bags, 50 pounds each, all filled with stuff I would end up not using. Now, my contents are as follows;


- 1 golf shirt
- 4 white t-shirts
- 4 favorite t-shirts
- 5 pairs of board shorts
- 4 pairs of jeans
- 2 pairs of corduroys 
- 1 black dress suit (Target brand baby)
- 1 black dress shirt 
- 2 neck ties (Also Target)
- 2 collared button-ups
- 1 hoodie
- 1 rain shell jacket
- 1 Atama BJJ gi with belt
- 1 Hyabusa sparring mask
- 1 pair MMA sparring gloves
- 1 pair 14oz. boxing gloves
- 1 mouthpiece
- 1 jump rope
- 20 pairs of boxer briefs
- 30 pairs of socks
- 1 pair of dress shoes
- 1 pair of sandals
- 2 pairs of sneakers
- toothbrush
- toothpaste
- deoderant
- cologne
- Japanese loofa
- scissors
- soap
- nail clippers
- Leatherman tool
- locking-blade knife
- laptop w/ chord
- digital camera
- misc. small personal effects
- 2 books (one on military encryption, one on military command)


    Notice the focus on socks and undies... That's experience for you. It's not much when you think about my mission here and how much risk is involved. I am here with intention of establishing a lifelong foothold in this country, a position of cultural, lingual, and economic fluency. For me, this is litmus test to see if I can "make it" somewhere using what I know and I guess I picked Brazil because, well, it's a little bit crazy for me as an American. I have no place to live. I have no job. I have no method of transportation. I have no local phone. I have no fluency in the language. All I have is myself, a great group of people helping me out, and $2,000 USD cash, that needs to make it until January 26th... 
     Landing in Belo Horizonte this time, kind of reminded me of my first fight. I was just kind of sitting on the plane, then the wheels hit, and then I said to myself "What in the fuck are you doing here?". The sweat started to open up a little, but I pushed all that scared business way down and out. There is not time for that now. There is only time for success. Things will be immensely challenging, but I am determined to make myself like a piece of steal that has been hardened in flames. In my lifetime, as short as it has been so far, I have developed a perspective that has resulted from leaving my comfort zone, physically and mentally, many times. The perspective is this; When a person is in their comfort zone, they are within their castle. They are protected and all is familiar to them. When they venture away, they leave the castle, and they are subject to the uncertainties and fears of life in the unknown. The solution is for the person to build him or herself into the castle, a fortress of impregnable strength that stands wherever the two legs of its foundation may travel. In my lifetime, I have strived to build my castle and kingdom unto myself, and now my fortress has moved, via New Balance shoes, to Brazil. From this castle I must conduct an efficient campaign of getting things done. 
     But I am a skeptic and as much of a realist as an idealist. Life has many black swans, things we cannot foresee. It may go to absolute hell down here. It may get downright unpleasant and straight up not cool. However, if it does, the road trip back to Berkeley is going to be the most epic journey ever. 

World Class Fitness Gym, Goteborg Sweden
Belonging to the World Class Fitness franchise, this gym is connected to the Radisson Blu in Goteborg. In addition to an advance lifting area, complete with tension cables, power racks, squat racks, free weghts, etc, the facility also has a heavy-bag for boxing, a yoga area, cardio room, pool, jacuzzi, and sauna. Full locker room facility and personal training are available. 
http://www.worldclassfitness.net/weeblylink_new_window

Radisson Blu (SAS) Scandinavian Hotel, Goteborg, Sweden
This fabulous hotel is situated in the central part of town with easy access to fine dining, shopping, and transportation. Each room is decorated differently and the staff is excellent and capable of speaking a variety of languages
http://www.radissonblu.com/hotel-gothenburgweeblylink_new_window

The Palace Hotel & Restaurant, Goteborg, Sweden
The Palace is in a great spot for people watching and boasts a delicious Scandinavian menu. Fine local beers are also on tap and the service is excellent. Only a short walk from the Radisson and right across from the main shopping mall. 
http://www.palace.se/weeblylink_new_window

La Gondola Ristorante Italiano, Goteborg, Sweden
La Gondola is one of the oldest Italian restaurants in all of Goteborg and serves authentic Italian dishes made of local and imported ingredients. Great location in Avenyn, great environment, great service! Risotta all Marinara is a great choice here!
http://www.lagondola.se/weeblylink_new_window

Goteborg Opera House
One of the most famous attractions in Goteborg, the Opera House was constructed with a maritime theme, in order to embrace the city's sailing/fishing culture. Wonderful productions are always running, but if you cannot catch a show, at least stop in to see the wonderful construction of the place. Located along the Marina, the Opera House is also in good proximity to food and shopping.
http://en.opera.se/weeblylink_new_window

This week, you are going to need a swimming pool! In honor of my Dad's recent competition, this week's workout will be one for the pool and should be a great program for targeting your cardiovascular ability. One length of a swimming pool is traditionally 25 meters, with an olympic size pool length being 50 meters. Keeping it simple, each 25 does not actually need to be 25 meters, just one length. I.E., a 100 Free equals 4 lengths of Freestyle. Ok, here we go.

Workout 5

Warm Up
5 minute easy jog (treadmill or surface)
-enter the pool-
400 Choice, easy pace. Swim any strokes you want for 16 lengths.

Activity
200 Freestyle, brisk pace
50 Underwater maximizer (spend as much time submerged as possible)
1 minute rest

200 Breast Stroke, brisk pace
100 Freestyle, brisk pace
50 Underwater maximizer
1 minute rest

200 Freestyle, sprinting every 4th length
200 Breast Stroke, sprinting every 4th length

Cool Down
200 Choice, easy pace

Stretch in pool prior to exit

     A few weeks ago, an unexpected opportunity came up and I got a chance to go with my father to a place called Goteborg in Sweden. Goteborg is a fantastic town that has often been compared to the wonderful city of Paris, awash with travelers from around the world, a diverse palate of global cuisine, and all the provocative ambiance that Europe is famous for. The reason for the trip, however, was not pleasure, but competition. 
     As a former collegiate swimmer, my father has always loved spending time in the pool and swimming has always been one of his great passions. I think at one point when he was a young man, he held the world record for the 50 meter freestyle for about 1 week! When he was my age, he must have been some kind of aquatic beast because even now, when I am 24 and in the best shape of my life, and he is 65, he is still a leader for me in the pool who can easily dish out 1-2 miles nonstop...
     Now, in this phase of his life, my father swims under the Stanford University flag again, not at the collegiate level, but now at the Masters Swimming level. The Masters Swimming league is a worldwide community of swimmers who belong to individual clubs and compete multiple times throughout the year in age groups ranging from 25 years old to 95+ years old! Each year, the Masters Swimming Championship is held in a select city, and thousands of swimmers come together to challenge themselves, and each other in a test of hydrodynamics and determination.
     Obviously, I am a fan of global travel and enjoy immersing myself in the mesh of a foreign land, but this time, as my father's coach, it was all business. About 4 weeks prior to the trip, I began helping my father improve his speed, endurance, and overall physical conditioning. For days, I worked him like a dog, mercilessly and without a tolerance for excuses... I did this partly because I wanted him to be ready for the competition and to dominate the situation, but also because he is my father, and I want nothing more for him than to have good health so he can be around for as long as possible. Furthermore, as his son, he will always be a young man to me, the one I remember from my childhood, and it is hard for me to accept just yet, the idea that he might be old and incapable... So we trained. Stopwatch in hand, I was relentless, but after a few sessions, we felt that he was ready to rock. Off we went.
     Getting to Sweden was a bit of a brutal trip. Primarily because of one factor that psychologically derailed us on the plane ride from San Francisco to Munich; the factor being that for some reason, our section of the cabin was about 82 degrees, with no circulation. Added to that, each seat had an individual viewing monitor, something that immediately alarmed me because I know that when you get something like that in economy class, you are going to pay for it... The price was approximately 3-4 inches of leg room, the absence of which made me feel like I was squashed into a young child's Power Wheels car. Continuing on the temperature, it was the worst thing ever. During the 11 hours of sweltering travel, I analyzed my own irritation and marveled at the ability of a temperature change to cause such aggravation. However, it should be no surprise, since, as animals, our environment is important! I have been on plane rides where in which I was stuck between two 400 pound people for 17+ hours, flights with 48 hour delays, flights where the engine broke and we were stuck on the tarmac for hours, flights where the turbulence was so violent that the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling, all kinds of crazy flights, but this was the worst! And I was not alone! One woman from India, one of the hottest countries on Earth, actually passed out a few rows behind us and my father had to go giver her a physical examination (For which he got a $25 duty free voucher, danke schoen Lufthansa). Upon landing, she was hauled off the plane by a medical crew, still experiencing symptoms of heat exhaustion. So on that plan ride, I was not a happy camper. If I had been given a chance to fight at the casino, 9 hours into that flight, I would have requested to fight every guy, in ever weight class, 100 times. 
     Landing in Munich was like getting off the Mayflower in Plymouth colony. Our bodies were immediately grateful for the pleasant environment in Munich and we spent our layover sipping beer and chowing down on some decent, airport-quality German food. After a few hours, we hopped on a temperate and spacious flight to Goteborg.
     Flying into Goteborg brought back memories of going to Norway a few years back. The sky was grey, the rain was falling, and the weather gave a haunting look to the dark, Scandic forrest, conjuring up mental images of knights and Vikings waging war in the same place so long ago. Upon landing and exiting the airport, we made our way to a bus which took us to the main part of town, and from there me made our way to the hotel. 
     For the next week, we spent our days combating jetlag, exploring the great city by foot and train, and getting my dad to the pool for training and competition. Our hotel was in a great location and had an excellent breakfast buffet. The attached fitness center, actually independent of the hotel, was very impressive and included a wonderful spa that I would enjoy after a hard session of activity. 
     In regard to the competition, it was thrilling to see my father race and I thought that his technical form was one of the best examples there, in any age group. Thanks to his hard work in training, he was able to shave 5 to 20 seconds off all his events. Aside from my father, one of the most inspiring things I saw there were the events that held the 90+ year old competitors. After you see a 94 year old man swim the 50 meter freestyle with one arm or an 85 year old swim the 400 meter individual medley, you take a hard swallow and realize that there is no excuse for ceasing to challenge yourself mentally and physically, far into the ripe years. When the body and mind stop, life stops... If we were made to be without both we would have no legs or brains, like stones sitting in a dry river bed. 
     The last time I had been to Europe, I think I was about 14 or 15 years old. I had forgotten about how wonderful and diverse it could really be, and experiencing its wealth and utopianesque grandeur reminded me of why it is important to possess a determination to achieve things in life, not only in order to experience such great places, but to help your loved ones experience the same thing. Although I myself may be content to wander the world with nothing more than a sleeping bag and a rain coat, broke and hungry, but alive, I do not want the same for my own family. I hope that through the decisions I make and the faith that I possess, that one day, I can give my wife and my children the same experiences that my father has worked so hard to give to my mother and I. I see now that in life, whatever determination a person has is nothing compared to the determination they will cultivate when they find the people to be determined for. 
     After this last trip and after all the traveling I have done collectively, I have noticed that my perception of all that was so familiar is beginning to change... Whenever I am in a new place or another country, I always view things through a lens of unfamiliarity. Now, I find that I am starting to use the same lens to look at my own home and native surroundings. The tiles on my floor... The way the flowers in the backyard look. The way we speak and communicate in my house. Everything. I see now that I have truly reached a point where I am in a permanent state of tourism. Strange, interesting, and out of my control. hehe