The Universal Language of EMPATHY

When the situation is so sad and dire, it transcends the human language.

DISGRACEFUL

Instagram is changing video clips so fast you can't save some of them. 

We now FINALLY understand THE REAL WORLD.

LIVE from PALESTINE

                     ONE

                       TWO

                      THREE

               FOUR

SEVEN

EIGHT

                          SIX

My ❤️ and SOUL Belongs to Palestinians

This is a crime against our own humanity; each Palestinian life taken dims our collective light a bit more.

I'm grateful for the food they are about to eat. Praise Allah 🙏

2 Babies Under a Building

Watch a little child climbing from under a building in Gaza. 

INHUMANE 

doesn't begin to describe this madness.

Une Recette Pour Une Belle Vie

   

     Sometimes, the memories of my grandmother overwhelms me and I have to go searching for pieces of my history online; the history that formed me as a human being was written in Afonso Arinos, a small village located on the borderline of the states of Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais. Minas Gerais, undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful places in the world. 

     Just type the name of a few of its cities in your image search box and you can begin to plan your next vacation: Diamantina, Tiradentes,  Congonhas, Sao Joäo del Rey, Mariana, and the second most beautiful city in the world for me: Ouro Preto. New York City being forever my favorite city, followed by Paris, which lost the second place in my heart when I visited Ouro Preto em 2015.

     Tonight, for whatever reason, I typed Rio das Flores into my search box and discovered the beautiful Fazenda do Paraizo, owned by the beautiful couple, Paulo Roberto Botelho and his wife, Simone Botelho. There's so much I could say about the property but my words will fall short to describe the beauty of this place. You can see it for yourself.

     The second Fazenda was a nice surprise since I know the family who owns it; we all grew up in Afonso Arinos; merely 10 minutes away from where  Fazenda Santa Justa is located. An added layer of nostalgia is the fact that Vanessa Cardäo, the young woman describing the place is related to the girl I loved when I was 9 years old. 

     Then it came to me why I had a hard time talking about the beauty of both places; certain experiences have to be lived, not described. And in living it, day to day, a human being can begin to form a receipt pour une belle vie. 

     Here's how the exquisite Vanessa Cardäo describes Fazenda Santa Justa::

 "Essa fazenda pra mim tem gosto de memória, de lembrança, de felicidade, de valores, de família e de Deus também." Clarissa Cardäo. 

 "For me this farm "tastes" like memory, remembrance, happiness, values, family, and God too." Clarissa Cardäo. 

     Words to live by. What else is there to say? 

                                                    

Are You HAMAS?

 

I'm Hamas

and I wake and sleep fueled by this rage inside.

The unrelenting memories of my childhood: the fear of the soldiers and their cruelty. The humiliations I witnessed to family and friends. 

The sadness when I understood that the strongest man I knew, my hero, my father, couldn't protect me, couldn't protect my mother,  couldn't protect my sister.

I'm Hamas.

and I wake and sleep fueled by this rage inside.

The unrelenting memories of my childhood: the emptiness inside watching entire families killed in a single day.

I'm Hamas.

and I wake and sleep fueled by this rage inside.

The unrelenting memories of my childhood: the shame I felt running away when the settlers came and began beating my neighbors. Stealing their houses. My mother holding my hand tight and pulling me along to safety.

I'm Hamas.

and I wake and sleep fueled by this rage inside.

The unrelenting childhood memories: the moment I realized I wasn't safe anywhere. 

I'm Hamas.

and I wake and sleep fueled by this rage inside.

I'm a child no more. 

The unrelenting memories of my childhood: made me who I am. 

I know I have a choice: 

live and die at the hands of my oppressors;

Exercise the lessons they taught me: brutality, sadism, unrelenting terror, and fight back.

The question is not, and will never be, do you condemn Hamas? The question is: 

ARE YOU HAMAS?

How many years would you take the blows, the humiliations, the injustices, the killings of children, of entire families?

I'm Hamas.

and I wake and sleep fueled by this rage inside.

The unrelenting memories of my childhood and the lessons I learned from the people God chose to be my neighbors.

What would you do in my shoes? 

I'm Hamas. 

ARE YOU HAMAS?