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They don’t scream but look in silence

Who would ever think that oceans can give you an incredible inspiration to travel more. Staying and looking at the ocean, dreaming to see what is further. Next island, next palm, next beach. Humanity has always been curious what begins when the horizon ends. Who are the habitats of undiscovered lands.
Here I stand in Salvador, in South America and cannot really realize my big luck of being one of the leaders, participating in inspiring programs, helping kids who deserve to be loved.
All that this country can offer you charms and absorbs your mind. A country of diversity, of inequality, of poverty and luxury. A country of exotic fruits, fresh morning juices, grilled chicken and highly priced Oreo and Snickers. A country where corn and rice create blood of every habitat.

Brazil made me experience cultural shock for the first time in the whole life. For the first time, Brazilian ladies have woken up my shame giving me a chance to realize what horrible people belong to my race. I look and see in black women’s eye determination and desire to live that paralyzes me. Such a deep look, such beautiful skin. “I don’t like your hair, your black hair”. He dislikes it because the hair is wonderful and reminds him of the mistakes and unlearnt lessons.

I see people swimming in warm water of Atlantic ocean, playing on the guitars and ordering one more bottle of extremely cheap wine. They are happy to the tip of fingers.

Evening. I see people scared on the streets, hugging a backpack even stronger, kissing children even more careful. Beach, harbor, the smell of weed and live jazz. Give them just a second to forget all troubles and dive into own memories, recall battles of ancestors and listen to heartbeats of the beloved. Beautiful harbor.

Beautiful harbor.

Night. And all the horrible thing are about to happen. Starlight provokes sleepy mice to come out. The noise of rainforest wind makes you believe in mystery. Couple hours later ocean will throw out all circumstantial evidence.
With the first sunbeam, an old cleaner will sweep all night stories. An old back cleaner.

An old black cleaner…

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