Week 1 in brasil

I spent most of the week at the farm, revisting old sights. Most everything is exactly the same as I remember it, save for a new fence, some new dogs, and a big new house thing. The little town nearby, aracariguama, has grown a lot, but I don't think anyone but the mayor cares. I'm basically falling into the same routine as every visit: See the same things, note changes, and pass time with my family, none of which have changed. It's almost scary. They've built these roles for themselves, these roles that they're comfortable with, and fitted themselves into them. I know exactly how they will react to everything, pretty much. It forms such a closed microcosm that it almost suffocates me; Don't these people learn and grow and change? I look back on who I was four years ago-the last time I was here-and compare him to me, and we are not the same person. I feel that High school changed me radically. But here, here nothing's really new. I wonder if it's adolescence that causes it or isolation...kinda goes back to Joyce's view on an artist's develpment from Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man. Can we really grow and learn and create, when restricted to these goddamn little niches we create for ourselves? I see it, but in seeing it, I continually form myself into my own preferred stereotype, the cynical onlooker, but the fact still remains that I'm fitting myself into a mold that anyone else could jump into. I see my family here, I see cliques back home, and I think to myself: This is what keeps conservatism going. It's so comfortable to show up and jump into the smart, funny, awkward oldest grandson, and go about life like I've been here for the past 4 years. And easy on everyone else. But goddamn, I gotta think about this. Change it somehow; it doesn't feel right...
On another note, I'm back in Sao Paulo. Today was the gay pride parade, the biggest one in the world. 3 million people came to participate, and driving around at night I could see the aftermath of it....looks kinda like Austin. Crazy longhorns. Also, I watched a play today, called "The day the pope was kidnapped," in the theater that's right in the mall. It was pretty damn good: the script was a tad lacking, but the acting was top-notch, especially considering the venue. They showed some commercials before the show, on this shitty projector, and I thought, damn, this is the grindhouse experience. I recommend the play to anyone who cares, it's pretty funny.