(my very tiny) War Within

This tiny little, sand-filled town has 150 pousadas, two churches, two
cemeteries and one very large police station. The police station and
its grounds look bigger than the four-block town combined. It is
surrounded by a high fence and barbed wire. When I saw it, I wondered
what this town could need with such a big station. I'm still not sure
but I've gotten a couple of hints.

The state that Jeri is in, is the poorest state in Brazil. From what
I've observed, Jeri abundance is an exception to the rule for this
area. I took a buggy (pronounced boogie, like boogie nights) out of
Jeri a week ago. The towns were barren. Wild donkeys and pigs
scavenged the sand for grass. Wind has brought some wealth to Jeri,
and with every week that passes, more tourists seem to arrive.
October through December is high season due to the wind and holidays.
I've heard a few people mention that the police keep the town crime
free. I certainly feel safe any time of night walking around alone-I
still don't do anything stupid. In talking to a few residents here, I
learned that you know you have "officially become a Jeri resident"
once your house has been robbed. It's easy enough to figure out who
"did it." The police bring the criminals to your house. You can buy
back the things that were stolen. And the three parties negotiate an
ongoing protection fee.

The police showed up on the beach today to greet the Brazilian
coastguard who were surveying the area. Seeing rifles on the beach was
disconcerting and attracted my attention. Life went on as usual,
though, and the fishermen sailed in, hauled their boats on to the
beach and sold their catch to the townspeople. They fish with nets,
which necessitates hand-sorting the fish. They separate the kinds of
fish on the different parts of the boat after they've untangled them
from the net. Big mouth fish at the front, tiny silver fish piled at
the back and the really long ones in the middle. Relaxed negotiation
goes on for about a half hour as the townsmen check out the catch and
decide what they want for dinner. Sometimes they clean the fish right
on the beach. The beach dogs wait around to see if it's their lucky
day.

I recently finished Bob Woodward's, " The War Within." It is a great
exploration of the Bush administration management of the Iraq
invasion. Today, windsurfing out on the water, felt as close to being
at war as I hope I'll ever experience. 25 knot winds picked up early
in the morning and flattened me while I was offshore. My fear quickly
degraded my sailing ability, but I made it safely back to shore,
exhausted. I can now understand why the windsurfing companies name
their equipment stuff like, "Combat," "Zone," and"Alpha." With the
added camouflage fashion trend, the helmets some sailors wear, and the
amount of focus we all give to the size of our sails, harness lines
and equipment rigging, it's easy to think this is my own little war.
And I'm on the warpath for a jibe. My mission has not been
accomplished, but I've made headway. I have seven more sailing days
if I don't get injured. No matter what, my sailing skills have
increased ten-fold. I am about 99% at water starts again, which really
helps. Please cross your fingers.

AND, by the way, I'll be celebrating my birthday at my place on
November the 8th. Please look for an evite soon.

Hilary