Tropical Storm: Part Two

Second night in a row and there is a storm overhead. Tonight it did not even wait for darkness and there was no build up, but it rumbles on with even more intensity than it did last night. A night like this and I am tempted to slope of to bed early with a good book. I say a good book, but is there such a thing as a bad book? We read to be entertained and to educate ourselves. A book that interests and excites one person will not another.

I have been read to or read since I was a little girl. Books were always important in our house, and as one of four children I used to cherise time alone with a book, away from the noise of brothers and sisters. I enjoy reading as much as I do writing, but do not have much time to read a book nowadays. Whereas books, magazines and newspapers were the only sources of reading before the internet, we now have many others. In the last two years I have spent most of my reading time following blogs and articles on the internet. These new reading materials have not only educated me but created friendships with people I have never met, and may never meet. I enjoy these interactions, but I think for tonight I will log off, go find a book of the paper form and enjoy turning the pages.

Tropical Storm

As I am writing a load crack of thunder echoes through the air and a flash of lightning lights up the dark sky. The computer should really be switched off and unplugged from the socket, but the storm outside has inspired me to write. It has been brewing for a few hours now, after a sunny, hot day the change in weather is no suprise. I live on an island where the sun shines about 3/4 of the year, but despite so much heat the island is green and the flowers colourful, this is because it also rains, a lot. Summer is here and the days hot, the nights too, at this time of year it rains mostly at night. It has not rained in weeks, but falls heavily now, a dense and warm rain. I have seen many thunderstorm in my life, I have always enjoyed watching, but I have never seen storms so fierce as I do here in Brazil.

The sky clouds up and the lightening starts first, it is best to watch it from the beach. Sat on the warm sand the rays illuminate every cloud on the horizon and the sea turns silver with each strike. Every once in a while a fork of lightening breaks out from the clouds, splitting many times as it makes it way down to the ground. In the distance the thunder starts to quietly rumble, time to get inside. As the thunder approaches it gets louder and echoes for longer. There are two types of thunder, the rumble, and the clap which snaps like someone banging two heavy blocks of wood together. The clap of thunder so loud it is enough to frighten most animals into hiding but my small dog doesn't even flinch, he is used to these storms. We both go onto the balcony to await the rain, the ligthening still brightening the sky, the gaps between each rumble of thunder shortening. The wind begins to blow and as the storm moves overhead the rain starts to fall heavy, soaking the ground in seconds. There is no gap between the thunder and lightening now, it is one after the other, the sky looks beautiful. A deafening snap of thunder and nearby a small baby awakes from it sleep and cries.

The rain still falls, but the thunder again echoes in the distance and the lightening flashes less frequently. The storm has moved away for now, but without doubt will be back in full force later.

Time to start writing again

I have been away, both from Brazil and my blog having spent 6 weeks in England with friends and family. But now I am back and it is time to start writing again or at least time to start posting some of the scribbles in my notebook that span back to september. The plan as always is to put up at least one post per day but it never happens, always something else to do. I will however try to be more regular in my posts this year to keep those of you that read it happy.

Back in the heat

I am back in Brazil after spending the christmas holidays in cold England. On our first morning we (me and the dog) woke early for our morning walk. It was 6 in the morning and still dark, the sky a midnight blue, the moon shining brightly to the east. As we stepped outside there was no escape from the heat that had interrupted our sleep all night. The air was suffocating and heavy from the heat, it weighed down on my shoulders, and my feet felt heavy as I lifted them. The only lightness in the atmosphere was the soft song of many a bird as they greeted the new day. The tide in on the beach we hit the streets, still empty, the day not yet started for most. The breeze was warm as were the pavements beneath my feet.

As we return from our walk the blue of the sky starts to lighten and clouds that were before hidden by the darkness appear. The sun begins to rise in the sky, turning it all shades of pink, orange, yellow and red, illuminating each cloud. As it makes its climbs, the clouds evaporate and disappear and for a brief time the sun is full and exposed, while to the east the moon still shines, less bright now. Sun and moon in the same clear blue sky, but not for long as a blanket of cloud passes and hides them both once again.

Just do it!

Just do it! is a book about Conductive Education written by conductors who graduated at the National Institute of Conductive Education between the years 2000-2008. 21 graduates contributed to the book, each describing their experiences as a newly qualified conductor. The book is edited by Andrew Sutton and Gillian Maguire and published by Conductive Education Press.

I personally contributed to the book, providing a chapter on my experiences of working here in Brazil. Titled Educacao Condutiva - Com Amor: the first year, the chapter describes my journey here in Brazil as a newly qualified conductor dealing with the challenges of developing a new project in a foreign country and language. I wrote the chapter in late 2007/early 2008 and had a lot of material, so much happened in the first year. Just over one year later so much more has happened that I could write another chapter!


Just do it! Available from: http://bit.ly/cep-justdoit
Price £7.50 (€10.94) plus postage and packing.

Christmas in Brazil

I have never celebrated a christmas in Brazil, it is the one time of year I get to go home, but I do spend the build-up to christmas here in the heat. The christmas lights are already up in the streets, our classroom is decorated and trees stand in peoples' house, but somehow it just does not feel like christmas is coming. I associate christmas with cold cloudy days, frost and snow, bare trees, people wrapped up in thick coats and scarves, wearing boots.

Today was like most days, clear blue sky, sun shining brightly, the heat at times suffocating. People walked the beach and pavements in shorts and vests, sunglasses protecting their eyes and flip-flops on their feet. Today was hot and it will only get hotter as the weeks pass, come christmas day it will be difficult to leave the cool shade of the house, except for early morning and evening. I can not imagine what it must be like to spend christmas in this heat. I discovered the other day that like us Brits, the traditional food on christmas day is turkey, however it is not served with roast potatoes, vegetables, stuffing, sausages, bread sauce and gravy but instead, rice, beans and farofa (floury side dish), and for pudding ice cream!

Christmas is coming

In five weeks time millions of families around the world will be sat round freshly cut pine trees covered in lights, baubles, beads and tinsel, whilst desperately unwrapping the brightly coloured packages that lie beneath it boughs, the smell of roast turkey in the air. The scene is the same in almost all countries round the world but we each have our own traditions, I know my family does.

Christmas is important in my family as it is the only time of year that the whole family is together, mum, dad, my two brothers, my sister and me. Having all left home at 18 and now living in different counties and even countries it can be difficult to get all siblings under my parent's roof. We all look forward to christmas and the few days we get to spend together, all 6 of us. Christmas eve is all about preparation, cutting vegetables, making stuffing, wrapping presents and delivering them to those that live in the neighbouring towns and villages.

Christmas day arrives and I awake hoping to see snow, with no curtains on the windows of my bedroom it doesn't take long to find out if my wish has come true or not. I share a bedroom with my older sister and whoever wakes first wakes the other, we like to spend these first moments of the day together. I am 27, my sister 31 and my brothers 29 and 23 but we still wake to find stockings by our beds. My sister and I open ours together, we always have about 10 presents each and we can usually predict what they are, but that is what we love about it. At the bottom of the stocking we can always find an apple, a tangerine, chocolate coins and 1 real pound coin. Having completed the stockings my sister and I climb out of bed, wrap up warm and head straight outside into the bitter cold, thanking our mum along the way. Ever since I was a little girl there has been dogs in our family and our first priority on christmas day is walking them. The countryside is always still in the early morning, but the quiet is soon disturbed by our three beasts that run and play in the cold frost or wet snow. As we approach the house once again we see mum in the field feeding our two horses, both of them wrapped up against the cold, standing knee deep in fresh, sweet hay.

Back inside and it is all in line for the bathroom and turkey in the oven. As the smell of roast turkey slowly seeps through the house we head to the sitting room to unwrap the presents that lie beneath the lit tree. The tree is put up the week of christmas to avoid the needles dropping before the big day, it reaches the ceiling with ease leaving only just enough space for the fairy which sits on top. The branches are laden with beads and baubles of reds, golds, oranges and yellows, the small discreet lights twinkle on and off. The tree sits in one corner of my parent's living/dining room, but we prefer to open the presents sat round a lit fire, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows over the Eden valley. It is my favorite place and my favorite moment.

Seasons

I really miss the seasons of Europe, spring, summer, autumn and winter, they are all so different. Spring with its morning dew that hangs to the blades of grass and drips from the trees like rain drops in the early hours. Bunches of bright yellow daffodils clustered closely together, trumpets open and petals swaying in the breeze. Strong tulips standing by their side of the brighest colours. These are followed by bluebells, lavender-blue in colour, bell-shaped flowers that delicately hang in numbers from one stem. The foxgloves stand tall and proud, beautiful purple flowers speckled with white. Many shrubs that stayed green all winter begin to flower, lilacs of many colours with graceful butterflies resting on their numerous flowers. The ground scattered with specks of white, blossom that has fallen from the fruit trees yet to bear their load. Some of the tall trees above still look sparce with the small green buds just beginning to open up, others are already in full bloom, a rich green that we only truly see in spring. The spring air is filled with bleeting as young lambs run around fresh pastures, finding their feet for the first time.

Summer brings a rise in temperature and longer days, daylight until 8 o'clock in the evening or even later. Sunny days spent on the beach, people sat on the sands behind windbreakers, others walking the promenade, children building sand castles or paddling around in rock pools, net in hand searching for crabs. The sea water cool on the skin, even in the middle of summer, music plays from the ice cream van that sits near by. Those in the cities laze in green parks underneath large trees reading books, on blankets sit families enjoying picnics, children kneel by the lake sides throwing small bits of bread to the ducks that glide on the water, others run holding tightly onto coloured kites. In orchards, trees are ladened with fruit so heavy that the branches might break. By late summer the fruit begins to fall to the ground and bruises as it hits the dry earth, bees and wasps swarm around as the fallen fruit rots. Days without rain gives farmers the opportunity to work in the hay fields, cutting, collecting and bundling the long grass, a sweet smell in the air.

Autumn and the wind begins to blow. The leaves still hang on the trees, but what were once green now turn yellow, orange, red or purple. As they drop from the trees they glide towards the still dry earth, here they rest upon other leaves that are already brown. Children run down tree lined streets, knee-high in crisp, dry leaves. The leaves crunch beneath their feet, the children with arms full of leaves playfully throw them at their friends. In playgrounds children stand opposite one another, each holding a piece of string attached to their prized conkers. It is a sport that requires preparation and as children walk home from school they keep their heads down, eyes searching for the green spiky shell that can be removed to reveal the nut. Once home with pockets full the work is not done, the hard brown nut is placed in vinegar or painted with nail varnish in order to harden it, ready for school the next day. By the end of autumn most of the trees are bare and the air cool.

Winter is cold and we all eagerly await snow, no matter what our age. As we wake in the morning and pull back the curtains we marvel at the soft, white, untouched blanket that covers all. The air so cold it takes our breath away is not enough to stop children from pulling on their thick coats and wellies and wading out of their houses, pulling sledges behind them. Down hills they slide, screaming as they go, friends stand on the sidelines throwing snow balls. In the garden of nearly every other house stands a snow man, body of snow, eyes of coal, a carrot nose, twigs for arms and dad's scarf wrapped around its neck. The highlight of winter is christmas. Cold outside but warm inside as the fire roars and the lights sparkle on the freshly cut pine tree, presents sit underneath. Turkey roasts in the oven as families sit and watch films or old favorites that pass each year. The odd board game is played, wine drunk, the queen makes her speech then slowly the heads begin to drop as one by one we drift into sleep. I always hope for snow on christmas day, however it never stays very long and when it melts it leaves behind a dirty slush that ebbs away to show early spring flowers begining to break through. The delicate white snow drops and hardier purple crocuses keep close to the ground, the first sign of colour after a bleak winter.

It is over two years since I last saw spring, summer and autumn in England, I only ever return in winter. Here the seasons all seem to run into one, barbecues burn and the sun shines nearly all year round. Even in the midst of winter it is possible to wake with the sun rise and step onto the beach in a short sleeved t-shirt to be met with a full sun, blue sky and not one single cloud. We are approaching summer here, it is hot. I walk every night on the beach after dark, and walking tonight I could still feel the heat in the air, like that of an English summer day. I could smell rain in the air and then I saw the lightening strike on the horizon, it is going to rain tonight. Living in a place where the sun always shines can get too much and I look forward to making the trip home in five weeks. It is always strange going from the intense heat to the bitter cold and for the first week in England I will suffer as I did last year, but it is worth it.

Sink or swim?

I did not start this Blog with the intention of writing about my work, I write mostly about Brazil as people always ask "what does Brazil look like?", "what are the poeple like?", "where have you travelled to?" However work is a large part of my life here, it occupies most of my time and my thoughts and is in fact the reason why I am here in Brazil, so it seems only right to write a little about it.

I arrived here as a newly-qualified conductor, to a project that had been operating less than six months. I was, by my own choice, thrown in at the deep end and it was a case of sink or swim. I had so much to learn in my first year, I started working alongside another conductor, but within six months I was on my own, sole conductor of the Project Com Amor, and that is the way it has stayed for the last two years. At university I had many mentors and a large support system of other students and conductors, I was never alone. But I found myself straight out of university and my own boss, not everyones cup of tea, but it worked for me. Along the way I have learned so much about team management, I have a team of professionals all with different experiences and qualifications, each one vital to enable success of the project, each one a friend.

In the short time I have been here I have worked with more than 20 families from all over Brazil, each one compassionate for my work and courageous to trust in a profession about which they know little or nothing. Each parent or child I meet I learn a little more and make changes to both my professional and personal habits. I am I teacher, I teach my students, but all the while I too am learning.

During my time here I have designed furniture, designed room layouts, chose wall colours and fixtures, assessed and re-assessed students and staff, designed and redesigned programs, visited students schools, given lectures and workshops, planned social events for those associated with the project and more. I have done many things in a short time, I had to learn fast and the experiences I have passed will help me in my future plans. Speaking to a fellow conductor friend tonight we make plans to meet for the first time and for me to observe her work. When she asked what I hoped to see and do, I reply that I want to watch and learn, I know I still have so much to learn.

I am pleased to say that I did not sink, I swam and still am swimming, each day with a little more ease.

P.S. Thank you Susie for inspiring me to post on my Blog today, even though it is late and I, like you, am tired.

Back in Rio

I recently returned to Rio de Janeiro for the third time in just over two years. Each year in october I have been making this trip for a much needed meeting with family. Rio really is a wonderful city, the sun shining, long white sandy beaches filled with bronzed people, the pavements of black and white tiles have the appearence of waves and are walked or ran day and night by those in search of the perfect body. Buildings surround the beaches both old and new, a real mixture of architectural styles. At one end of Rio a large lagoon (Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas) where people sail, at the other end the Sambodrome, home of Samba music and Carnaval, and in the north the Maracana Stadium, home of Brazilian football. Sticking out in the water and overlooking Botofogo bay is Sugar Loaf Mountain (Pao de Acucar), two giant rocks, the largest being 396 metres tall, both of which are connected by cables that transport cable cars filled with tourists. The city is nestled into hills filled with slums, houses built on top of houses in a very precarious manner, dirt tracks and steep steps the only access. These hills are green forming the urban forest of Rio (Floresta da Tijuca), the largest urban forest in the world, it was replanted by six slaves in 1861 after the original forest was destroyed to make way for coffee plantations. The forest is immense and in the middle of it all, on top of the highest hill, there he stands, head bowed looking down over the city, arms wide open, Christ the Reedemer.

Coming Home

I have made the decision to return to England, actually I made the decision in May but I guess it is only now sinking in that I will be leaving. I will be leaving in July/August of next year, 2010, after spending 3 years here in Brazil. When I first made the decision I was worried I had made a mistake, I enjoy my life here, experiencing a different culture and language, work is such a pleasure and I have learnt so much, I really will be leaving a different person. I thought I had made the wrong decision but now 5 months on I know I have not.

My brother has just been to visit, and him being here once again reminded me how much I miss my family and friends. I spend 11 long months here, if I am lucky I receive 1 or 2 guests a year but it is not possible for everybody to make the trip. I can count on my two hands how many days I have spent with my sister and best friend in the last 2 years. It is time to go home, at least for a while, to spend time with the people who are very important in my life, I have learnt this in my 2 years here.

I have made the right decision, but boarding the plane to Rio to spend some much needed holiday with my brother, I could not help but wonder how I will feel when I board that last plane home.

Not sad, just lonely

We all have our own limit and I think I have reached mine. It has been 8 long months without stepping foot on English soil and 5 months without any physical contact with family and friends. My companion here in Brazil is my little Brazilian dog, who has been with me almost from day one. He is not a person, just a rather odd, 4-legged ball of fluff, but without a doubt he keeps me sane, he gets me through the year. Preparing for a meeting with my brother in Rio I sent the ball of fluff to the kennels, it was only as I re-entered a rather empty flat that I realised how important my companion is. Without him I am not sad, just lonely.

Connected

It has been a long time since I last put a post on my blog, actually the last time was 9 months ago and I was in England. Since I got back to Brazil in February access to the internet has not been easy, an internet cafe was my only option until now. I finally have internet at home, I am connected once again! It has come at the right time as after 8 months of not being with friends and family the internet is helping me get through the next 3 months till I go home. The internet is important for most, but for those that live far away from the people close to them, it is a necessity.

Luck and life's many paths

Some people would say that I was fortunate to be living in Brazil, experiencing what I am, and seeing breathtaking sights each day. Some people would say I am lucky and maybe I am, but I am also here because of the decisions I have made in life. These decisions have not always been easy to make, or without me having to give something up, but they were the right decisions and I can say I have no regrets. Some people would say we were given luck, but I believe we make it for ourselves and that our lives do not depend on luck, but the decisions we make and the paths we choose to take.

18 months ago I decided to say goodbye to my friends and family and board a plane, never knowing when I would return for good. I came to Brazil to observe its beauty, live its culture, speak its language and learn something about myself. 18 months on I have achieved all these things and more, and still my journey here continues. I now know I have at least one more year left following this path that I chose to take, and after that who knows where the next path will take me. Whatever happens I know it will not be determined by luck, but by me. We all have choices in life, we just need to be brave enough to take them.

Modernity

During one trip I made whilst in the Amazon, our guide talked about modernity, and how it had affected those living in the area. The Amazonian natives had adapted and modernised in the last 25 years, but not to the same scale as the other states/areas in Brazil, and the rest of the world.

Regardless of place of birth, modernity is a part of every person's life, and we all have to adapt to changes within our lives on a daily basis. I live a 'modern' life, I have a mobile phone, a camera, an ipod, a camcorder. I use the Internet to communicate, to educate myself, and buy the things I want. I went to school, then funded myself through university and received a good education. I have a good job, rent a flat, pay the bills, travel afar in my holidays. I have all of this because I was born in a well developed country, grew up in a town with all the necessities, left home, became qualified and am now living a good life. I have a life that is very different to those lives I saw on the River Negro, with their basic accomodation and limited technology.

As I sailed the river for one last time, the boat arrived in Manaus and I left the river behind, entering a modern hotel, where fresh arranged flowers were being placed on the hotel reception desk. People were rushing around talking on mobiles or working frantically on their laptops and I realised that for four days none of these modern commodities had matter to me, and maybe in life less is more. I was in no rush to turn on my mobile phone or check my email, instead I wanted to get straight back on the boat, and sail back from where I had come.

Strong swimmers

Like some fellow Bloggers I have been on a break during the Christmas holidays, but felt like it was time to come back. I have missed writing so I am just adding a quick entry before leaving to celebrate the New Year in Scotland. A far cry from the cold, windy, Scottish countryside I still have more stories to tell from my humid Amazonian travels.

Before going to the Amazon, and knowing little about what diverse and immense beauty the region contained, one of my incentives for going was to swim with dolphins in their natural habitat. On my last full day in the Amazon I entered the waters of the Rio (river) Negro, with more than 10 dolphins, and swam amongst them, feeling their bodies touch mine as they swam past.

The dolphins that occupy the river are called botos de cor rosa, pink dolphins. When they leapt out of the water, to catch the fish I was holding in my hand, they appeared to be grey in colour as it is the dark colour of the water that makes them appear pink. There are two methods of feeding them. Firstly I entered the water and standing on a platform, with the water at waist height and fish in hand, I waited for them to leap up and take it out of my hand. It felt like they were almost throwing themselves at me as the weight of their large bodies crashed into mine. All they wanted was the fish, they were not trying to harm me, in fact they are gentle giants with poor eyesight and for this reason their bodies met with mine.

It was then time to fully enter the water, I was first fitted with a buoyancy aid, before entering the dark waters again. The moment my body was submerged in the river I was surrounded by the dolphins, all looking for food. They swam between my legs, raised out of the water brushing past my arms, and with mouths open once again took the fish from my hands. After 10 more minutes of feeding the buoyancy aid was removed and I was free to swim the river and dive with the dolphins. Swimming under the water I could clearly see the size of these gentle creatures, and running my hands along their bodies their skin felt like a hard-boiled egg with its shell removed. What a truly beautiful creature.

A tribal evening

In April Educação Condutiva - Com Amor celebrated its first birthday with a play performed by the students. After much debate it was decided that the children would present a short play about the different origins of the Brazilian population. The population of Brazil is divided into four categories not actually of origin but of colour, skin colour. These four are negro (black), amarelo (yellow), vermelho (red) and branco (white). These four colours represent the different races within Brazil, and as at the time we had four children, each child represented a different race. During the play each child took its turn to present to the audience and so the history of Brazil and the arrival of each race to the country was told.

I learned a lot about the formation of the Brazilian population whilst preparing for the play, so here is a short summary. Brazil was first occupied by Indians (vermelho, red), native Indians living in tribes using nature's products to feed, clothe and house themselves. Next arrived the Europeans (branco, white), mostly wealthy Portuguese who created large coffee and sugar plantations, whilst turning small fishing villages into large cities. They used their money to buy African (negro, black) slaves, bought to work on the plantations. Finally people arrived from the Far East, mostly Japonese (amarelo, yellow), and so the Brazilian population was constructed.

During my first year in Brazil I had encountered many different Brazilians of differing skin colour, but I had never had the opportunity to observe the life of the native Indians that to this day still occupy the Amazonian rain forest. Upon my arrival in the Amazon I was informed that this would be possible and grasped at the chance to visit an Indian tribe. Before I set out on a dark Sunday night to watch their daily night ritual, I was concerned that perhaps I would not enjoy the experience, and would feel like it was not genuine, but a show put on for tourists. I almost did not go, but as I arrived into the small clearing deep in the forest I soon realised that this was not a show but their daily routine, and I was purely an observer.

A young boy was blowing on a horn, inviting us in as the tribe members prepared food for dinner, apparently unaware of our presence. We sat down a little distance away as it was explained that what we were about to see was not due to our presence, but a ritual they performed every night before eating, to give thanks for their food. As the food continued cooking over the fire, the members of the tribe gathered together and within seconds began dancing. Women, men and children danced whilst singing in a language that I did not recognise. The dancing was led by a boy who held one of his hands in the air for the duration of the dance, on his hand was a wicker glove that was crawling with biting bullet ants. As a boy turning into a young man it was his responsibility to lead the tribe, whilst enduring the pain of the biting ants. Young girls played instruments as they danced, never making a wrong step. The dancing lasted about five minutes and just as suddenly as it had started it stopped, the food was removed from the fire, and the tribe started to eat, us too.

Let's go fishing

I had never fished for piranha before I went to the Amazon, but I did spend many days as a child fishing for trout with my dad. I was born in the Lake District, a beautiful rural area in the north of England, and I spent all of my childhood and adolescence growing up in its breathtaking landscape. To this day my parents still live there in a house on a hill overlooking the Eden Valley, with a view that money can not buy. Looking out of the living room through the floor to ceiling windows, the green valley lays spread out for miles below with fells in the distance on both sides. To the left lies the "sleeping elephants", fells that when the sun shines resemble a herd of elephants laid flat out, their lined, dry skin clearly visible. And to the right stands the many fells that surround Lake Ullswater and its neighbouring lakes. I really could not have been more fortunate as a child as the beauty of the area provided many activities to keep me occupied, one of these activities was fishing.

My dad has always had a great interest in fishing and it was one of the few activities in which me and my three siblings accompanied him. Our favorite place to fish was on the River Eden in a place called Bluebell Wood. I do not know to this day if this is the actual name of the wood, or in fact me and my siblings invented the name due to the number of bluebell flowers growing there. It was a well established wood with tall trees, closely packed together creating a large shady area underneath. At a certain time of year the ground of this shaded area was a carpet of blue and lilac as the bluebells hung delicately from their from their long thin stalks. The slightest breeze caused the bells of the flowers to shake, and so the carpet appeared to be moving. And it was here that we sat upon a broken tree on many a sunny afternoon, rod in hand, bait in the water, waiting not always so patiently for a bite. Sat in a boat on the River Negro, again rod in hand, waiting for the piranhas to bite, I remembered this happy childhood memory.

Wonderland

With so many pre-planned activities to fit into four short days, two of which included travelling, I had very little spare time whilst at the hotel. In fact I only had a couple of hours one afternoon when the guide said to me, do what you want. The only problem was, what could I do? There I was in a hotel in the middle of the Amazonian rain forest, with the nearest town being two hours boat ride away, I was literally surrounded by just trees and rivers. Luckily for me I have a great love of nature, and in particular photographing it, so it was decided, I would take a long walk along the miles of walkways that stood above the river.

With camera in hand I soon found myself snapping away, unable to stop as every turn I made, the view changed. Yes I was just photographing the trees and the river, and yes you might think how many pictures can one person take of the same trees and the same river, but each time I turned around it was like stepping into a new place, I felt like Alice in Wonderland.

With the river 10 metres higher than in the dry season there were some trees almost completely submerged in the water, only the top green branches appearing to float on the water. Other trees of 40 metres or more in height stood tall and proud, their wide trunks clearly visible and touchable, their branches out of reach, swaying in stark contrast to the blue sky.

It wasn't just the trees that changed but the river too. The river Negro's appearance is like its name suggests, it is very dark, almost black. However due to the reflection of the trees on the water its appearance changed regularly. At times it appeared green, the vivacity of the leaves clearly visible. When the trees stood high above the river, clustered together, the shady water below appeared red in colour, a scarlet red. And where there were no trees the water's surface only reflected the blue sky, not a cloud in sight.

Beauty is more than just skin deep

I have always believed it, beauty is not just what we see on the outside, but what is at the core. Proof of this could be seen at the small native village I visited whilst in the Amazon. The village was only reachable by boat, a long narrow boat that sails close to the water. As we reached the shore, and the small dock, I could see a row of small wooden houses perched on the shore, one in particular stood out. It was painted white with a burnt orange roof and was the school for all the children not only in the community where it stood, but also for the many children who lived in isolated houses along the river.

The school has one teacher who teaches 4 classes of different aged children. Each morning this teacher boards the school boat, donated by the hotel in which I stayed, and travels to the various houses located on the vast waters edge to collect the students. At the end of the day this process is repeated as she takes them home. It is not an easy life for her, she works long hours, determined to create an educated, sustainable life for both her children and the children of others in the community for many years to come.

As we were told the history of the school and how it began from nothing I began to think of my own experience here in Brazil, and my efforts to create a new conductive group, which will hopefully grow into a school one day. Although Educação Condutiva - Com Amor started with nothing, the one thing it did have was enough money to get it started. This small school did not have this luxury, and the teacher and creator of the school fought for everything that stands there today. Small donations have helped her school grow from a small wooden structure, barely big enough to house 6 children, to a painted school house that is now providing an education for over 20 children.

I am a teacher, a teacher of conductive education, a conductor, and standing outside that small school in the Amazon, full of emotion, I knew I could not leave that beautiful place without also leaving a small donation.