There once was a time (up until last week actually) when I would have told you that material things didn´t matter to me, and that I was happy to live with whatever I had at the time, that I had learnt to be content with what God had given me and that I was not striving for more.
Then.. the police stole my bag. 6 days in the same pair of jeans and suddenly the story was a little different. I wanted my stuff.
Anyway, after many many phone calls and my first arguement in Portuguese it was finally delivered on Friday, too late for me to go to the first part of the guaduation ball, but all the same, at least I got to go in the end.
Turns out that there was nothing in the bag that they didn´t like, they were just doing it to be annoying. In the end they didn´t even open it. So all my flash backs to movies like Bridget Jones were totally unnecessary.
So the plan for the moment is to go to Rio Grande do Sul this week, and go and meet my nephew. Then another week in Criciuma and I am off to Canada! then New Zealand, and then home. Geez it´s gone fast. A diary and a half worth so far :-)
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