it was love from the first sight, the glimpse of the city i got through the small window on the plane. rainy and cool after tropical miami. sad to start all over again.



but it’s boston. it’s different. it’s home… - i kept repeating to myself on the way through the downtown and the financial district with tall old skyscrapers…



i give a promise to return there as often as i can…



and then the brandeis bus with yellow t-shirt students heads towards waltham... away from the center but still in boston.

it was more than twenty-four hours since i left home. after houston in texas where i was unfortunatelly redirected the plane landed in a city of lights and heat. the taxi driver was happy i had no luggage… it remained in amsterdam… he, like most of the people I met in the next few days, was american by choice. midnight in the unknown city… humid wind in my hair through the open windows as we move across the place that used to be one of the most dangerous areas in the states some years ago. i am in miami.



next morning... the 'holiday inn' hotel was just in front of the ocean... the next evening we went on the boat tour of biscayne bay.



it's where all the rich and famous live… the white palace of shakira, the house of ricky martin. villas on the water, palm trees in the gardens with huge swimming pools.



after the dinner at some nicaraguan restaurant we headed to explore the night at the miami port. katy, diego and me. chatting and laughing until we saw the palm trees, a wonderful place at daytime. but somehow different at night. all the seats or armchairs under the trees used by businessmen during their lunch were occupied by the desperate. that’s how they call homeless people in miami. and then… there was a palm tree with the coconuts i wanted to take a picture of.



that’s how we met debby. debby was shot by a policeman a week before. her man is in jail. debby warned us of using the camera in such places… in downtown miami port… diego gave her a dollar and she vanished… or did we vanish?



pamela is a poet. she is from the carribean. i met her in the middle of the street and she asked me to translate her poems.

Keep spreading God's Word and His Love
Given freely to all that ask from The Son Above
For He came to save you and me
And those who believe He will set free
So to Him Just bend your knee
For you know He died on The Tree at Calvary
Well that's all I have to say today
Have a nice Easter Day!!!



little havana is the place in miami were most anticipate fidel castro’s death… rumours about it’s cuban population, their bars, mojitos and salsa are widespread. but we were too late. tt was already getting dark… we had to go back. to the beach.







south beach, the famous. it’s were sinatra was shot, it’s were he lived. many houses on the ocean drive are the art deco style, unique here. the sunset is more colorful than in the sweet postcards we see in the movies.



but the atlantic… lighting in the sky and water which is warmer than in the bath. home across it. or is it really africa? i send greetings home… the planes will carry them… across time and space.



i like miami, it's wild spirit. i don’t wanna leave it. the people here… mojito, cuba libre and 'sex on the beach'… salsa in 'mango’s' till the early morning… already missing it. with andre the brazilian we reached the airport. but never really departed.