A bit of bad news ...

Today, whilst walking to class a bird shit on my head. I was walking at the park adjacent to my hostel, when I felt a rock land on my head. These things happen. I assumed it was one of those hard leaves. I used my hand to brush it off, but it seemed to just move a bit, and then I looked at my hand, covered in the brown, digested worm goo of a native bird. The wonders of Brazil. So I look down, and look up, and think 'No...' There are a couple of decisions:

• Keep walking with your hand hidden until you get to class and wash it off there
• Return to hostel to wash hands and hair
• Try to stand next to a hobo to seem comparatively cleaner
• Jump in front of a bus

So I walked back to the hostel with the high-level of self-consciousness that only comes when you know you have shit in your hair, but hope other people don't know.

And then I went to work.

And tomorrow represents an important day. It is a first day. And the phrase 'tomorrow is the first day for the rest of your life' is much less reassuring when you remember that first days are quite terrible. My first, first day, covered in goo screaming until sleep. My first day of school crying due to separation anxiety with my mother. First day of middle school, where it seemed overnight all my friends had girlfriends, and when they asked who I liked, it marked the first time "What am I gay?" worked against me. Loss of innocence. First day of classes suck. First day of work sucked. First day of post-graduate life was rad. First day of Brazil was average.

And so tomorrow is the first day of my Portugues lessons. Soon I will be able to order food, and understand how to pay for things. No more one meal a day. No more awkward fumblings. Soon I will be able to tell the hobos to 'get a job!'