Alone at last, Sugar.

Our housemates have left, gone to live in a place of their own. The place is suddenly a lot cleaner and calmer now, but with it far less eventful and once in a while just plain damn lonely.

Something I had forgotten about, was the sharing of responsibility. Sure, they made quite a mess, but they also cleaned up sometimes. More than once I got home from work and the house was just, spotless. They happened to love cooking, as well, just how fantastic can a housemate get. I hate cooking, I swear I do.

So now there’s no more escape. I have to do my part of the dishes, cleanup, washing and who knows what else. No big deal of course, just fucking annoying once in a while.

Living on your own comes with all sorts of important decisions. It’s got to do with the loads of freedom you gain by moving out. From one day to the next, you’re the one who decides what kind of yogurt comes into the house. That expensive strawberry kind suddenly doesn’t taste so good, anymore.

The lack of a driver’s license is becoming painfully inconvenient, too. With a bike and a backpack you find yourself having to go to the supermarket up the street twice a week. As a result, long days are spent hungry simply because I’m too fucking lazy to get up and go shopping Again. It’s a time consuming thing, involves more decision taking than anything enjoyable and I come home feeling strangely empty. I hate shopping, I swear. Makes me feel like a consumer, someone who wouldn’t know how much shit he crammed down his throat this week to save his life, let alone just how much ended up in the trash. And with it, I detest the kind of people who have turned into a pastime, who buy things because they are cheap. Guess what? You are what is wrong with this world.


So why haven’t I been writing anything lately? Plain and simple, nothing’s been going on. From early December to late January, Not a single thing has happened. Perhaps that’s not true: I lost my cellphone, I lost my girlfriend a few times but I found her in the kitchen. Also, I went wall climbing with a few friends and halfway through January capoeira classes started again. I swear, those were the only highlights in a 60 day time span.

So, I promised myself I wouldn’t, but I went and got myself addicted to another computer game. What’s more, I recently joined the staff and I am now helping out with ideas and coding for events and upkeep. I can die happily now.
Thing is though, after a whole lot of nothing, small things suddenly get very exciting. Work is picking up again after months of radio silence, and I just joined a girl scouts camp as a cook (I am the meat man. And I’m not even trying to make any sexual references here) and and and, my very first Batizado is coming up!

A Batizado (literally baptized in Portuguese, and borrowed from the religious tradition) is normally an annual event for a Capoeira group in a region or country. The practice of Capoeira Batizados originates from Capoeira Regional, but has been extended to other styles.

Batizados are large events and are very important for the group organizing it. It is the point in the year where the new members will be baptized officially into the group and receive their first cords and where the other members depending on their progress will get a new one. A typical batizado will take several days and consist of workshops, the actual Batizado itself and a Troca das Cordas. Often many groups from more than one region will attend a Batizado for other groups. This allows for development of the game by contact with other players, teachers and styles.

Normally the Mestre of the group must be present during the proceedings, but historically this is not required.

– Wikipedia –

In short, ladies and gentlemen, a batizado is a two-day event of dancing, partying, capoeira and downright (and I don’t say this easily) ass-kicking. I’m so damn excited about this, I sort of feel like a manga "fuzzy" girl hopping up and down excitedly with clapping hands and panties showing underneath a school uniform. You might think you know, but seriously, you have no idea how much I’m looking forward to this. Clapping hands, right arm up, duck, roll, counter, jump, flip. I swear it’s so addictive, to be sparring in the circle with fists and heels passing millimeters from your head as you writhe to match your opponent’s movements and at the same time lash out with your own. When you’re in a roda, you see nothing but your opponent, reading his/her eyes while planning your next move behind your own.
The adrenalin, the fear, the excitement, the pain, and life makes sense. You’re no longer hungry, sad, emotionally challenged or ugly. You’re dancing, fighting, one with your opponent and the rhythm until your lungs burst or you see the hand of the next person buying the game from you. It’s beautiful, it’s passionate yet so serene. I’ve been trying hard to get friends of mine to join but for some reason they just can’t see it the way I do, which is a dead shame.

Anyhow, to the point. I will be earning my belt there, which color is for my teacher to know and me to bite my fingernails over. I know I can play at white-yellow level, I can even stand my ground against white-orange. ( belt colors, though they are usually just used symbolically, it is much harder to progress than it seems here) I would absolutely hate to get just plain white because this is my first batizado, even though I know I can do better. It’s one thing to be overestimated and turn out to suck, but really pride in your accomplishments is an important thing when it comes down to things like capoeira. You want to be recognized for what you can do.

Of course, all that is not for me to decide. As I just mentioned, the situation I want’ to avoid is have a teacher from another Grupo asking me how on earth I managed to get that color belt, and therefor embarrassing myself, my teacher and even my mestre. I can tell when my teacher is proud of me, and he is very strict and anal about getting it right so that means a lot. To many people, capoeira is all about showing off and acrobatics, but not to me. It’s been way too long since I’ve been really been proud of something, let alone myself.


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