Sick

I’m in Brazil and i’ve been mad sick for 5 days now. If your the praying type I’d love some. I only just started eating solid food. luv you all kthxbye

Airport Showdown

Brazillian airport, arrivals, alternate lineup for baggage search:

“open the bag please sir”

oh shit

I lay out the contents of my bag on the polished aluminum desk in the flourescent light. I am a doctor, carefully laying out his instruments for surgery.

1 “sex god” book by Rob Bell (re-reading it)
1 firewire cable
1 dell laptop
1 hoody (from zumiez, $14)
1 nintendo DS: final fantasy 6 and FF tactics thank you very much
1 ipod classic 120GB ( airborne toxic event playing)
1 ipod USB cable
1 Canon XH A1 3CCD professional video camera. dang.

This has happened before. My last trip: Lima, Peru
we got hit with a $1000 fine for having pro equipment. had to pay in cash. they took our gear until we coughed up the dough. and our passports. These guys, they want cash. No Visa. If you got anything that looks pro: they can smell it from a mile away, the try and get you, smack you with a fat bill. They scan your bags not to stop terrorism, they scan to make coin. This customs agent, he will try and corner you: prove you need to pay, you: the under-the-radar video and photog have to parry and dodge his blows. He’s on the offensive, you have to defend.
Whether you have to pay a grand depends on the next 4 minutes of dialogue.

like they say in the schoolyard: its on

He saunters up to the counter, looking smug with his dashing moustache and customs uniform. He thinks he has this one in the bag. A little extra money on the side, maybe head to the bar tonight.
People in the lineup are looking over, the other customs agents at the scanner machine are smirking, the dude with the metal detector wand is leaning against the gate. They all know its On.
We face each other, shoulders squared off like this is some samurai showdown or high school arcade showdown.

Ok buddy, you think you can take me!? I’ll tear your face off.

“what you coming to Brazil for?” he grills me in broken english

nice right hook, but its a little slow. Homo

“touristo! tourism” – shooting a smile.

Block, counter. Gaurd up

he levels a bone chilling gaze at me: “Define Tourism”

Ouch, fiece punch high, tap “A” to get up!

crossing arms: “oh you know, travelllll, see some siiights, meet interesting peeeople, maybe meet some laaadies.”  - wink.

charmander is paralyzed!

Opens up my laptop. it comes out of hibernation. Have Adobe lightroom open.
“What is this?”

You know nothing. I’m sorry Espanol, your princess is in another castle

“It’s a computer.”

down, diagonal, forward + Punch: Hadoken!

That pissed him off a little bit. He picks up the camera.

Magicarp! hit him with a splash attack!

“Is there something wrong with my camera? You don’t like? Too big?” -Big smile.

Back, Down, Diagonal Foward and punch: Shoyruken!

“How much your camera cost?”

a trap. But i done my research. Anything over 3k and you got me.

“Oh about two thousand US”

Low kick countered, Back, Diagonal, Down, Diagonal, Foward and punch: Yoga Flame!

“…it looks new…”

Enemy is low on health

“It’s 3 years old. Christmas present from my mom!” -smile

Headshot! No scope!

“…ok…get your things, you can go.”

Finish Him

“Thanks, and hey! you have yourself a good night!”

Fatality! Flawless victory.

It’s all over. 2 people are seriously maimed from the collateral damage. The terminal is in shambles. Broken glass lies everywhere. holes the size of houses in the floor and ceiling from the wayward energy beams. Everyone has long since ducked for cover under the converyor belts and seats. The dust clears. It’ll be several minutes before the SWAT teams arrive. The champion reholsters his Revolvers, Puts the extra quarters in his back pocket, powers down from super saiyan. He looks over to the remaining airport staff: “you remember this day forever.”

He slowly repacks his belongings, whistling. Grabs his checked luggage, and saunters out of the airport. Whistling.

Chaco

The Mennonite colonies are almost identical to the little towns from “the village” except without actor Adrian Brody pretending to be handicapped.

each town less than 5000. in the middle of the north western wastelands of paraguay. All farmers. All go to the same church. All won’t talk to you unless you name ends in “Klassen” or “Neuman”. All have children that just stare at you silently and utter one word answers to your questions.

downright eerie.

Stayed with a cattle farming family for one night. with a fellow from the congo. Every book in their house what christian literature. Everything was dated from the 70’s.

downright eerie.

We chatted late into the night, me and Mr.Congo talking about Rwanda, the Tutsis and Hutus, what that means for the Congo etc. over a bowl of grapefruit. The family was floored that they had a real live black man in their living room. their daughter didn’t say a word. sheltered like you wouldn’t believe in this town. its like Abbotsford on steroids. We talked of genocide. The United Nations. Muslims. He speaks 6 languages. Crazy.

Oh: She was 18. blonde.

Glances were exchanged.

coaxed a smile out of her.

then i saw the gun rack. abort. abort!

In Asuncion now. Capital. video is going mediocre. schedules are too hectic.

listening to James Blackshaw and Major Lazer

Paraguay

me.
and 30 pastors.
crazy parties like you wouldn’t believe.

been filming in Paraguay at ICOMB (some words that stands for all the big-shot pastors of every country in the world get together and rave on mad drugs  for 3 days)

by rave i mean discuss church biz and by on mad drugs i mean eat a lot of farmer sausage.

So i had 4 (ish) videos to do:

1. 19 pastors, video them greeting the whole Menno world conference from their respective countries. (for a video celebrating the Mennonite Brethrens existance for 150 years)

2. video of Randy Friesen: Menno Missions kingpin greeting the whole world for MBMSI’s latest batch of DVD’s they are sending to the world.

3. Interview this guy named Victor Wall at a television studio.

4. Get footy and sick pics of Paraguay like this was the BBC and i was filming Baraka

So far on level of amazing the shots are:

1. eeh 8/10

2. mm 7/10

3. totally got effed and we are doing it next week. 0/10 fail.

4. been stuck in a university for the last 2 days. 2/10 fail.

this week: 3 and 4 NEED to happen

In other news:

Picture paraguay. if you can’t picture paraguay picture some other south american city of 1.8 million (or so). by that i mean houses made of red brick, its hot. 8pm.  still 18 celcius. I’m in a university. Think the UFV campus compressed down to 1/10th its size. there is lush vegetation in the form of trees and gardens all around the campus. everything is very compressed. tight walkways, some of the roofs are that corragated metal tin. The rooms are typical nearly 3rd world affair. Picture the house from Fight Club. Every time we use a toilet it needs to be fixed to allow the water to refil, the windows are streaked with grime, the walls should have been white. One time. They are a yellowish tinge. The fan in the ceiling has shed its plastic casing and has revealed its motor and electrical guts for all to see. it circles lazily in the ceiling casting running shadows along the tiled floor in the fading light of the day.

I’m on the top bunk reading “To Kill A Mockingbird” and listening to Bibio on my ipod. Mike, my chinese UBC engineering student partner is playing starcraft on his laptop beneath me. (no jokes) while we banter here and there about brazil, spiritualism and any other sort of thing that pops into our heads.

It is quite for a while. the sun skinny dips itself into the horizon. lazy minutes roll by. the world darkens.

“Hey Clint…”
“Yeah what?”

“…is that lightning?”

It looks like someone is taking wedding photos outside our window. Which is impossible because we are on the 3rd floor.
“hmm”

We take a look into the horizon and galloping towards us: a black wall,kicking out flashes of light like it was a mobile rave. We watch through the darkened, grime covered window for about a minute before heading out onto the balcony on the other size of the building. Mach 3 is how fast this storm is heading. this continental cloud landmass stretches across the entire horizon, looming. at the university: all is calm and quite.
“This is gonna be so, so sick.”

suddenly wind from a refrigerator blasts through our complex and doesn’t let up. 20km, 40km, rocking 60 at least has the trees going epileptic. lighting coming and it doens’t let up. 1 second space between hits. regular thunder battle rollin’ through town. the sky is black when it isn’t electric. closer. closer. closer.

I jump up onto a half-completed wall to sit and watch the show.
“man, haven’t seen a storm like this in a long time.”  -Clint
“I’ve never. ever. seen this.” -Mike

And then its on us. raindrops on steroids. near vertical. might as well have gone swimming. Fog outta nowhere, engulfs all. What once was a good view of the vistas and corrugated steel roofs of the slums has become a wall of white. lighting. too much. no delay between the hits just non stop rolling with it, a strobe light the size of a city. ghost forks snaking like cobras dancing through trees. no thunder. just light. nobody is touching down tonight, its all for show. no use trying to take pictures: all you would get is the purple white of burning ozone. every once and a while the maelstrom saves up a big one. the strobe light slows… slows…

then your blind.

it was midday for a second there except purple. nuclear winter. soaked now and can’t stop yelling into it. Clouds are so low you could scoop a handful of the stuff and put it on your dessert. Yelling at a ceiling 4 feet away and something up high, deep inside it, dead in the heart of that living, breathing thing yells back.

its 3am. time for bed. need to wake up at 6:30.