It’s good to be home. There’s something about it – maybe it’s a little snobbish, but it felt good to be walking down a street where I got a few strange looks for carrying my big hiking pack. It felt even better to be yelled at and stopped by a few people who were just saying hi, and wanted to know how I was doing. To look around in “my” favela, and be able to think, “This is my home.”

After 24 hours on the bus I walked through the gate and up the stairs into my home on a cold and overcast Sunday afternoon. A few friends came over. They made us dinner. We laughed and talked. Some of the street kids came over too. It’s so good to be home. And now I’m sitting in my hammock, listening to a little Matthew Perryman Jones, and wanting to share a few pics from Iguaçu. I wish ya’ll could have been there to be soaked w/ mist, and buffetted by the crashing, tearing waters that resonate in your soul and make you want to fly. But till then, this will have to do – just a taste, remember?

So here’s a quick taste on a cold, overcast, rainy day.

I would be remiss if I didn’t point out a few of the warning signs that I found amusing.

Have a good week ya’ll… Man, it’s good to be home!!!