a blog with cultural bulimia.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005


Itamogi is where my father was born, where all that side of my family lives, where he has a coffee farm and where I use to spend all my school vacations through college. It is 400 kms (about 6 hours driving) from Belo Horizonte, the capital of Minas Gerais, where I was born. It is also light years away from it - the distance necessary, I just confirmed, for my relationship with my father to work.

Itamogi is very small, 11,000 people total, half of it living outside the city. It is far - in every way- from all the three major cities in the region: Rio, São Paulo and B.H. Everybody, one way or another, lives from farming.

I love it, in homeopathic doses. I feel loved when I am there. I also eat a lot: most of my friends there are from Lebanese descendency and, like Brazilians, they place an absurd importance on feeding rites. And since Lebanese food is on the top of my preferences, everyday is a gorge fest.

I admire the fact these people live and love to live there but I am too cosmopolitan. I need options. I need to meet people. I need noise.

I miss New York.