I'm not in the habit of documenting trips, especially sharing travel photos; I even used to avoid using my phone camera for some time, with an idea of 'being present instead'. Happy to see things differently now, but I notice that I take photos—capture, capture, capture—never re-visiting them much, even though it's often valuable for me to do that. This trip was special to me, so I would like to revisit what happened and create a nicely encapsulated memory for myself. I would like to generally share more about how I travel, as it's different from the way I usually see it happen and might even be interesting to some people. Perhaps this blog medium can break the 'photo album or stream' concept to share different kinds of things in context.

---

October 2023 was a busy month. I changed cities every couple days, knowing that I actually dislike travelling with that frequency, preferring instead to spend longer periods in places to go deeper. I explained my trip quite often as "I'm not here to see or do anything but rather to connect with my people", and it was a mindset that made bearable the hectic schedules and planning of bouncing around that much; 'attractions' visited can be counted on less than one hand, but there was an immeasurable quantity of diverse lenses into ordinary and everyday local life. With just my cabin-sized backpack weighing seven to nine kilograms, I was quite focused on going only where I felt called, connected, or welcome; this filled my experience with a sense of purpose, sometimes in completely unexpected ways.

2023.09.30 Winnipeg

My USA trip began in Canada with a visit to my cousin, who loves plants and lives in a small town near Winnipeg.

Then I headed south. I've had some anxiety about getting grilled at borders if I or my plans might seem strange, but I felt completely chill about showing up at pre-clearance without a return ticket. The agent actually seemed impressed with me 'not having a home address since 2019 as I often travel' and that I was 'planning to head to Brazil after maybe month in the United States'. "Let that guy in!" right?

2023.10.02 Minneapolis

Reef and I shared deep thoughts, Hamburger Helper, and lots of music.

2023.10.07 Chicago

I was hosted by a friendly stranger and made my signature oatmeal dish, called "Poor man's risotto".

2023.10.09 Ithaca

Not sure how else I would have ended up visiting a place like this without knowing Omar, one of several friends I've made from Interintellect. Also not sure how to describe the range of our many, many conversations; he's what I call a 'generator', with much to say about many things.

2023.10.12 NYC

I met Nathan again, and we talked about platforms, travel, and friendships. His room's walls are filled with cool posters.

I met briefly with Kaixi and Sruti, both of whom shared my residency experience at Moos, as well as Cristóbal, with whom I shared sentiments about Brazil, creativity, and computing.

For some reason, I met all of these people for the first time in Berlin last year.

2023.10.15 Fuquay-Varina

A small town where homes have front yards larger than public parks from most cities. I got to stand inside Jess' legendary office.

2023.10.17 Burlington

Life in April's co-op housing network, with many friends, groups, and projects passing through.

2023.10.20 Denver

I reconnected with Ted after many years, and stayed at Hearthstone Cohousing, where I had a fun jam with Danilo and Charlie.

2023.10.23 Oakland

What a dreamy place! I've never seen so many beautiful plants and home gardens in one neighborhood. Benji's father in Sausalito showed me the amazing "It's-It" ice cream sandwich. Zach, who I met at Proyecto Lingüístico in Guatemala, let me play his mother's Steinway piano for 7 minutes. My childhood friend Andrew and his wife invited me for a wonderful hang and where we were all treated to an excellent Punjabi dinner from his mother-in-law. Lots of chats with Jessica and Tristan about human development, technology, and life; we made homemade Migas.

2023.10.28 Los Angeles

First-hand experience of the sprawling car city of angels with Vivek, training capoeira with a local Mojuba chapter, Gujarati thali buffet, many jams and musical moments, a taste of Baileys and Coke (forgot it was supposed to be Dr. Pepper).

---

This was a journey of connection, generosity, experiences, conversation, Strolling, cooking, music, beauty, and transformation. Certain moments that relate to my presence there instilled me with a sense of greater purpose, such as: one person unexpectedly getting closure after meeting me for the first time; another feeling emboldened to take more chances when talking to strangers; someone else leveling up their Portuguese and feeling empowered while understanding and speaking a new language.

I think it's important to acknowledge how, despite some quite transformational moments for me and others, this all started as a vague idea that I thought about frequently for months—it just felt like a cool thing to do someday, maybe. I simply ran it by my friends as it occurred to me, and then again when the possibility felt tangible or within reach; perhaps that planted seeds which prepared everything for later. This ultimately happened because it felt like the right time and because people seemed to be open and available—everything manifested easily, and it was indeed magical.

---

Thanks (in alphabetical order) to Alice, Andrew (and family), April (and friends), Benji, Cristóbal, Despina, Douglas, Gatsby 🐱, Jess (and family), Jessica, Kaixi, LaJuana, Maitiu, Nathan (and roommates), Omar, Randolph (and family), Reef, Roshni, Russell, Sruti, Ted, Tristan, Vidhika, Vivek, Yatharth, and Zach, for being a part of this trip in some way and making it memorable.

---

If you want to hear some of the conversations from these times, sign up for the Strolling newsletter or follow me anywhere online to know when they're published.

I'm not in the habit of documenting trips, especially sharing travel photos; I even used to avoid using my phone camera for some time, with an idea of 'being present instead'. Happy to see things differently now, but I notice that I take photos—capture, capture, capture—never re-visiting them much, even though it's often valuable for me to do that. This trip was special to me, so I would like to revisit what happened and create a nicely encapsulated memory for myself. I would like to generally share more about how I travel, as it's different from the way I usually see it happen and might even be interesting to some people. Perhaps this blog medium can break the 'photo album or stream' concept to share different kinds of things in context.

---

October 2023 was a busy month. I changed cities every couple days, knowing that I actually dislike travelling with that frequency, preferring instead to spend longer periods in places to go deeper. I explained my trip quite often as "I'm not here to see or do anything but rather to connect with my people", and it was a mindset that made bearable the hectic schedules and planning of bouncing around that much; 'attractions' visited can be counted on less than one hand, but there was an immeasurable quantity of diverse lenses into ordinary and everyday local life. With just my cabin-sized backpack weighing seven to nine kilograms, I was quite focused on going only where I felt called, connected, or welcome; this filled my experience with a sense of purpose, sometimes in completely unexpected ways.

2023.09.30 Winnipeg

My USA trip began in Canada with a visit to my cousin, who loves plants and lives in a small town near Winnipeg.

Then I headed south. I've had some anxiety about getting grilled at borders if I or my plans might seem strange, but I felt completely chill about showing up at pre-clearance without a return ticket. The agent actually seemed impressed with me 'not having a home address since 2019 as I often travel' and that I was 'planning to head to Brazil after maybe month in the United States'. "Let that guy in!" right?

2023.10.02 Minneapolis

Reef and I shared deep thoughts, Hamburger Helper, and lots of music.

2023.10.07 Chicago

I was hosted by a friendly stranger and made my signature oatmeal dish, called "Poor man's risotto".

2023.10.09 Ithaca

Not sure how else I would have ended up visiting a place like this without knowing Omar, one of several friends I've made from Interintellect. Also not sure how to describe the range of our many, many conversations; he's what I call a 'generator', with much to say about many things.

2023.10.12 NYC

I met Nathan again, and we talked about platforms, travel, and friendships. His room's walls are filled with cool posters.

I met briefly with Kaixi and Sruti, both of whom shared my residency experience at Moos, as well as Cristóbal, with whom I shared sentiments about Brazil, creativity, and computing.

For some reason, I met all of these people for the first time in Berlin last year.

2023.10.15 Fuquay-Varina

A small town where homes have front yards larger than public parks from most cities. I got to stand inside Jess' legendary office.

2023.10.17 Burlington

Life in April's co-op housing network, with many friends, groups, and projects passing through.

2023.10.20 Denver

I reconnected with Ted after many years, and stayed at Hearthstone Cohousing, where I had a fun jam with Danilo and Charlie.

2023.10.23 Oakland

What a dreamy place! I've never seen so many beautiful plants and home gardens in one neighborhood. Benji's father in Sausalito showed me the amazing "It's-It" ice cream sandwich. Zach, who I met at Proyecto Lingüístico in Guatemala, let me play his mother's Steinway piano for 7 minutes. My childhood friend Andrew and his wife invited me for a wonderful hang and where we were all treated to an excellent Punjabi dinner from his mother-in-law. Lots of chats with Jessica and Tristan about human development, technology, and life; we made homemade Migas.

2023.10.28 Los Angeles

First-hand experience of the sprawling car city of angels with Vivek, training capoeira with a local Mojuba chapter, Gujarati thali buffet, many jams and musical moments, a taste of Baileys and Coke (forgot it was supposed to be Dr. Pepper).

---

This was a journey of connection, generosity, experiences, conversation, Strolling, cooking, music, beauty, and transformation. Certain moments that relate to my presence there instilled me with a sense of greater purpose, such as: one person unexpectedly getting closure after meeting me for the first time; another feeling emboldened to take more chances when talking to strangers; someone else leveling up their Portuguese and feeling empowered while understanding and speaking a new language.

I think it's important to acknowledge how, despite some quite transformational moments for me and others, this all started as a vague idea that I thought about frequently for months—it just felt like a cool thing to do someday, maybe. I simply ran it by my friends as it occurred to me, and then again when the possibility felt tangible or within reach; perhaps that planted seeds which prepared everything for later. This ultimately happened because it felt like the right time and because people seemed to be open and available—everything manifested easily, and it was indeed magical.

---

Thanks (in alphabetical order) to Alice, Andrew (and family), April (and friends), Benji, Cristóbal, Despina, Douglas, Gatsby 🐱, Jess (and family), Jessica, Kaixi, LaJuana, Maitiu, Nathan (and roommates), Omar, Randolph (and family), Reef, Roshni, Russell, Sruti, Ted, Tristan, Vidhika, Vivek, Yatharth, and Zach, for being a part of this trip in some way and making it memorable.

---

If you want to hear some of the conversations from these times, sign up for the Strolling newsletter or follow me anywhere online to know when they're published.

If I can sleep comfortably on a yoga mat, I have significantly expanded the 'surface area' of what's possible.

You remove the clothes of your soul when traveling.

Below is a translated revision of my Facebook post in Portuguese, originally for friends but eventually public, followed by some reflections that I wasn't able to articulate at the time. After that, there is a recording I forgot I had, featuring some of my conversation with the officers.

Thanks to Kae Yuan for reading a draft of this.

---

Tanning without a shirt and lying down in the grass at 3:30 in the afternoon. Asa Norte.

(If you're not from there, you could think of it as the equivalent of a quiet suburban neighborhood in Canada or the United States, where basically nothing happens—just a boring and comfortable place for affluent people to live.)

Six white police officers (mostly male) were walking, patrolling. I was surprised as I had not seen a sight like this in the last year or so of being around. I was observing their movement (as I lie on the grass), perhaps even staring, with the look of 'what are they doing in this neighborhood?'. Perhaps they felt provoked by my gaze.

A young-looking one arrives in front of me, cool and composed, silently points his gun at my face (as I lie on the grass) and spoke calmly: "Stand up and put your hands behind your head."

I said, "What did I do?", first in Portuguese, and later in English. The others arrived, pointing five additional guns at my face (as I lie on the grass). They explained that they were doing a '[procedure for the prevention of the sale of drugs]'. I obeyed, not knowing a better action to take. With fear, I started to engage only in English as one of them knew to speak it a bit.

They searched my pant pockets and my cloth bag while I stood with my hands behind my head (shirt still on the grass). They asked me what I was doing in the country. I explained that I was travelling, living with a friend. With luck, I had my passport to 'prove' this, and with their consent, I opened my bag to get my passport (slowly, carefully, as all guns were still pointed towards my face).

They withdrew weapons after about ten minutes, concluding that "it seems like he's just lying on the grass taking in some sun", and started a warmer conversation with me, "How cool that you're in Brazil. Wow, it looks like you have travelled to many countries." Then I started to relax and speak more in Portuguese, which almost offended the woman interrogating me, "Oh, so you speak Portuguese? Why didn't you speak before?"

They explained to me that this 'method' is normal here and that I didn't see this in the twenty countries I visited because "every place has their own way of resolving things".

They left me after another ten minutes and started the same process nearby with a Black man sitting on a bench; I recognized from his t-shirt that he was one of the waiters at the local French bakery.

Only sharing because a friend told me that it's important for more people to know the reality of a non-white person in this country. This likely happened also because of my ragged clothes—many people in this neighborhood look at me and avoid me thinking that I live on the street or that I will ask them for money.

Above all, it's important to recognize one's privileges and how 'nothing happened' in the encounter. In this richer neighborhood, they won't start by shooting. In the favelas of Rio, first you die.

Reflections

What disturbed me most about this experience was the absence of any drama: nobody was shouting, there was no physical violence, and the police were clearly not acting out of fear for their own safety. This was mechanical, robotic, banal. The first officer acted like someone learning to cook by following a recipe:

Step 1: Approach as if you noticed a shiny object in the grass and wanted to check it out. Is it an earring? Or maybe a coin?
Step 2: Point your gun at it with the minimum of movement, so as to not startle the subject.
Step 3: Try to understand the situation.

It's the silence and the fact of how inevitable this is supposed to be. The calm, calculated clockwork of a system that doesn't question itself. The confidence of an 'expert' that doesn't realize how much they don't understand. I imagine them thinking: "This looks like the type of person we normally seek out, so let's start The Procedure". It's a logic they express with raw power.

Another thing I find disturbing is how after hearing this story, numerous people say to me, "Just change your clothes." I'm sure many women recognize that phrase. It's true, that would be practical. I'm slow to accept this, but I probably will.

Lessons

Producing and writing is my way to deal with many things. It's empowering to feel what an experience provokes inside and allow it to produce an expression.

Sharing your story can lead to conversations that create momentum for change. Certain people in my network have told me that they revised their attitude towards to the police because of my experience. This is part of our force and our power to change, by sharing and caring.

In contrast to other countries, the police at the city level in Brazil are actually military, and so they engage as if they're in a war—when all you have is a hammer, every situation is a nail. Also, their salary is higher than that of school teachers, which might give a sense of priorities.

---

A snippet of our more cordial conversation, roughly translated to English

Me: I'm basically a tourist.

Officer A: Wow, you travel a lot! [Laugh] And when did you enter the country?

Me: March 2020, more than a year ago.

Officer A: [Addressing other officers to start the procedure on the man sitting nearby: Go there and ('check it out'?)] .
Officer A: What is your visa?

Me: Tourist.

Officer A: It hasn't expired?

Me: I asked federal police about starting the process of getting documents, but…

Officer A: Ah so you came in the pandemic and stayed?

Me: My luck.

Officer A: You don't work here?

Me: I work on the Internet, I do programming, I sell apps online, I don't have a geographic connection for my work, officially in Canada, maybe.

Officer A: Where are you from in Canada?

Me: Montreal.

Officer A: [Pause] Montreal, dang. So you left the cold there?

Me: [Laughs] Why not?

Officer A: Yeah…

Me: I find the warmth of the people interesting here.

Officer B: In Brazil you only came here to Brasília?

Me: No. São Paulo, Campinas, Salvador, Manaus, Rio, Chapada, Recife, Olinda. But I like it here, and I have friends in the city.

Officer B: In Rio, you never experienced any "procedimento de abordagem" ["procedure of approach/attack"?]?

Me: Well I only spent two weeks there.

Officer A: But this never happened to you in Rio? Because it's so common there.

Me: I would not sunbathe in Rio. Brasília is safer.

Officer A: Yes.

Me: Who would do that?

Officer B: It's more dangerous there.

Officer A: Because this area here is more…

Me: Actually I never had problems anywhere even though people tell me that the country is very dangerous. I wouldn't walk around drunk at night or something like that. Probably stay at home.

Officer B: This type of procedure avoids future problems.

Me: Huh.

Officer B: It's not about anything you did. It's really just prevention.

Officer C: The truth is, this is really the procedure, you know? With guns pointed. You're from Canada right?

Me: Uhuh.

Officer C: If we turn to the context of other countries, each country has their own profile. If you went to the United States, it's one. If you went to Europe, it's another. Here in Brazil, it's another.

Me: Huh.

Officer C: But, thank you for your collaboration, okay?

Me: No problem. Have a good afternoon.

Below is a translated revision of my Facebook post in Portuguese, originally for friends but eventually public, followed by some reflections that I wasn't able to articulate at the time. After that, there is a recording I forgot I had, featuring some of my conversation with the officers.

Thanks to Kae Yuan for reading a draft of this.

---

Tanning without a shirt and lying down in the grass at 3:30 in the afternoon. Asa Norte.

(If you're not from there, you could think of it as the equivalent of a quiet suburban neighborhood in Canada or the United States, where basically nothing happens—just a boring and comfortable place for affluent people to live.)

Six white police officers (mostly male) were walking, patrolling. I was surprised as I had not seen a sight like this in the last year or so of being around. I was observing their movement (as I lie on the grass), perhaps even staring, with the look of 'what are they doing in this neighborhood?'. Perhaps they felt provoked by my gaze.

A young-looking one arrives in front of me, cool and composed, silently points his gun at my face (as I lie on the grass) and spoke calmly: "Stand up and put your hands behind your head."

I said, "What did I do?", first in Portuguese, and later in English. The others arrived, pointing five additional guns at my face (as I lie on the grass). They explained that they were doing a '[procedure for the prevention of the sale of drugs]'. I obeyed, not knowing a better action to take. With fear, I started to engage only in English as one of them knew to speak it a bit.

They searched my pant pockets and my cloth bag while I stood with my hands behind my head (shirt still on the grass). They asked me what I was doing in the country. I explained that I was travelling, living with a friend. With luck, I had my passport to 'prove' this, and with their consent, I opened my bag to get my passport (slowly, carefully, as all guns were still pointed towards my face).

They withdrew weapons after about ten minutes, concluding that "it seems like he's just lying on the grass taking in some sun", and started a warmer conversation with me, "How cool that you're in Brazil. Wow, it looks like you have travelled to many countries." Then I started to relax and speak more in Portuguese, which almost offended the woman interrogating me, "Oh, so you speak Portuguese? Why didn't you speak before?"

They explained to me that this 'method' is normal here and that I didn't see this in the twenty countries I visited because "every place has their own way of resolving things".

They left me after another ten minutes and started the same process nearby with a Black man sitting on a bench; I recognized from his t-shirt that he was one of the waiters at the local French bakery.

Only sharing because a friend told me that it's important for more people to know the reality of a non-white person in this country. This likely happened also because of my ragged clothes—many people in this neighborhood look at me and avoid me thinking that I live on the street or that I will ask them for money.

Above all, it's important to recognize one's privileges and how 'nothing happened' in the encounter. In this richer neighborhood, they won't start by shooting. In the favelas of Rio, first you die.

Reflections

What disturbed me most about this experience was the absence of any drama: nobody was shouting, there was no physical violence, and the police were clearly not acting out of fear for their own safety. This was mechanical, robotic, banal. The first officer acted like someone learning to cook by following a recipe:

Step 1: Approach as if you noticed a shiny object in the grass and wanted to check it out. Is it an earring? Or maybe a coin?
Step 2: Point your gun at it with the minimum of movement, so as to not startle the subject.
Step 3: Try to understand the situation.

It's the silence and the fact of how inevitable this is supposed to be. The calm, calculated clockwork of a system that doesn't question itself. The confidence of an 'expert' that doesn't realize how much they don't understand. I imagine them thinking: "This looks like the type of person we normally seek out, so let's start The Procedure". It's a logic they express with raw power.

Another thing I find disturbing is how after hearing this story, numerous people say to me, "Just change your clothes." I'm sure many women recognize that phrase. It's true, that would be practical. I'm slow to accept this, but I probably will.

Lessons

Producing and writing is my way to deal with many things. It's empowering to feel what an experience provokes inside and allow it to produce an expression.

Sharing your story can lead to conversations that create momentum for change. Certain people in my network have told me that they revised their attitude towards to the police because of my experience. This is part of our force and our power to change, by sharing and caring.

In contrast to other countries, the police at the city level in Brazil are actually military, and so they engage as if they're in a war—when all you have is a hammer, every situation is a nail. Also, their salary is higher than that of school teachers, which might give a sense of priorities.

---

A snippet of our more cordial conversation, roughly translated to English

Me: I'm basically a tourist.

Officer A: Wow, you travel a lot! [Laugh] And when did you enter the country?

Me: March 2020, more than a year ago.

Officer A: [Addressing other officers to start the procedure on the man sitting nearby: Go there and ('check it out'?)] .
Officer A: What is your visa?

Me: Tourist.

Officer A: It hasn't expired?

Me: I asked federal police about starting the process of getting documents, but…

Officer A: Ah so you came in the pandemic and stayed?

Me: My luck.

Officer A: You don't work here?

Me: I work on the Internet, I do programming, I sell apps online, I don't have a geographic connection for my work, officially in Canada, maybe.

Officer A: Where are you from in Canada?

Me: Montreal.

Officer A: [Pause] Montreal, dang. So you left the cold there?

Me: [Laughs] Why not?

Officer A: Yeah…

Me: I find the warmth of the people interesting here.

Officer B: In Brazil you only came here to Brasília?

Me: No. São Paulo, Campinas, Salvador, Manaus, Rio, Chapada, Recife, Olinda. But I like it here, and I have friends in the city.

Officer B: In Rio, you never experienced any "procedimento de abordagem" ["procedure of approach/attack"?]?

Me: Well I only spent two weeks there.

Officer A: But this never happened to you in Rio? Because it's so common there.

Me: I would not sunbathe in Rio. Brasília is safer.

Officer A: Yes.

Me: Who would do that?

Officer B: It's more dangerous there.

Officer A: Because this area here is more…

Me: Actually I never had problems anywhere even though people tell me that the country is very dangerous. I wouldn't walk around drunk at night or something like that. Probably stay at home.

Officer B: This type of procedure avoids future problems.

Me: Huh.

Officer B: It's not about anything you did. It's really just prevention.

Officer C: The truth is, this is really the procedure, you know? With guns pointed. You're from Canada right?

Me: Uhuh.

Officer C: If we turn to the context of other countries, each country has their own profile. If you went to the United States, it's one. If you went to Europe, it's another. Here in Brazil, it's another.

Me: Huh.

Officer C: But, thank you for your collaboration, okay?

Me: No problem. Have a good afternoon.

I started working on Kommit in March 2020, and now that it's March 2021 I find myself reflecting on what has happened in the past year.

The app was conceived as a way to study languages orally rather than visually, hearing words and phrases rather than 'looking at them' on a screen, because to me this more closely represents what happens while speaking. Unlike many previous projects, I didn't stop at personal utility — I also imagined using it to share my accumulated language experience with others. At the same time, I was in Brazil when COVID-19 was starting to have global impacts and taking away my primary income source, so I had an idea to help Brazilians learn English because there is demand. My proposition was as follows:

• one-on-one informal exchanges rather than formal lessons
• create flashcards with words and phrases from conversations, curiosity, and mistakes
• I do the work of writing so that the student can relax and focus on the dialogue
• the only 'homework' is spending a few minutes each day playing the app's memory game while recalling and pronouncing out loud
• we collaborate if the student is comfortable—I write in the target language on the front, they write in their native language on the back
• over time the student builds vocabulary, speaking experience with me, mouth muscle practice repeating out loud with the app

This was way less popular than I imagined it would be. Most students faded out after a few weeks and I'm not really sure why. Maybe it was the business model (pay what you want after three weeks), maybe the app wasn't sexy (black and white, crude prototype-y interface, no gamification), maybe the moment was difficult (pandemic, zoom overload, hardship, lack of energy/space/motivation). In any case, I regret nothing and gained a lot of valuable experience through this endeavour. In total I worked with about 20 people over a period of a few months.

More interesting was what happened when I tried it for fun with some friends:

• Khokha from Egypt augmented her English vocabulary by many, many words, which is significant when your main language is right-to-left with a non-latin script, and when you have only infrequent exposure to the target language. She taught me a lot of Egyptian Arabic.
• Fósforo from Brazil relentlessly challenged himself to learn new words and work on English pronunciation. We had many long and hilarious conversations with lots of jokes and laughing. He helped me with learning Portuguese.
• Marie from France, who is a very analog person and skeptical of technology, gave it a try in English but exclusively to learn "strange words". I augmented my esoteric vocabulary in French.
• Miguel from Mexico, who didn't speak much French, was able to converse within a few months. He made extra effort to look at song lyrics, write in a notebook, ask questions, try to speak without fear of mistakes.

What they all have in common is that I told them from the start they would not need to pay for it, and that I would do it as fellowship, not as commerce. I'm very proud of their progress—our progress—and it warms my heart to know that we worked together to create these new possibilities. There is a lot of richness in these exchanges: we can both learn and teach and share and improve simultaneously, and this is beautifully, sublimely human.

See also

• Family language exchange

I started working on Kommit in March 2020, and now that it's March 2021 I find myself reflecting on what has happened in the past year.

The app was conceived as a way to study languages orally rather than visually, hearing words and phrases rather than 'looking at them' on a screen, because to me this more closely represents what happens while speaking. Unlike many previous projects, I didn't stop at personal utility — I also imagined using it to share my accumulated language experience with others. At the same time, I was in Brazil when COVID-19 was starting to have global impacts and taking away my primary income source, so I had an idea to help Brazilians learn English because there is demand. My proposition was as follows:

• one-on-one informal exchanges rather than formal lessons
• create flashcards with words and phrases from conversations, curiosity, and mistakes
• I do the work of writing so that the student can relax and focus on the dialogue
• the only 'homework' is spending a few minutes each day playing the app's memory game while recalling and pronouncing out loud
• we collaborate if the student is comfortable—I write in the target language on the front, they write in their native language on the back
• over time the student builds vocabulary, speaking experience with me, mouth muscle practice repeating out loud with the app

This was way less popular than I imagined it would be. Most students faded out after a few weeks and I'm not really sure why. Maybe it was the business model (pay what you want after three weeks), maybe the app wasn't sexy (black and white, crude prototype-y interface, no gamification), maybe the moment was difficult (pandemic, zoom overload, hardship, lack of energy/space/motivation). In any case, I regret nothing and gained a lot of valuable experience through this endeavour. In total I worked with about 20 people over a period of a few months.

More interesting was what happened when I tried it for fun with some friends:

• Khokha from Egypt augmented her English vocabulary by many, many words, which is significant when your main language is right-to-left with a non-latin script, and when you have only infrequent exposure to the target language. She taught me a lot of Egyptian Arabic.
• Fósforo from Brazil relentlessly challenged himself to learn new words and work on English pronunciation. We had many long and hilarious conversations with lots of jokes and laughing. He helped me with learning Portuguese.
• Marie from France, who is a very analog person and skeptical of technology, gave it a try in English but exclusively to learn "strange words". I augmented my esoteric vocabulary in French.
• Miguel from Mexico, who didn't speak much French, was able to converse within a few months. He made extra effort to look at song lyrics, write in a notebook, ask questions, try to speak without fear of mistakes.

What they all have in common is that I told them from the start they would not need to pay for it, and that I would do it as fellowship, not as commerce. I'm very proud of their progress—our progress—and it warms my heart to know that we worked together to create these new possibilities. There is a lot of richness in these exchanges: we can both learn and teach and share and improve simultaneously, and this is beautifully, sublimely human.

See also

• Family language exchange

I have been speaking Brazilian Portuguese since a trip to the country in the beginning of 2020. I already had a lot of experience with Spanish for a few years before that point, but I like to point out that most people in other Latin American countries don't automatically speak or understand Portuguese—it's not as mutually intelligible as one would hope and needs work to acquire like any other language. In fact many people in Brazil need subtitles to understand the European dialect.

In the beginning, I only wanted to know survival concepts like buying food and asking for directions. I used Anki to make flashcards for some basic phrases and learned about ten to twenty cards fairly quickly. Eventually after starting to use what I learned, I wanted to see how far I could take it—I had a playful curiosity about it and wasn't being too serious about it, almost trying for kicks.

Over the course of a few weeks of conversing with people, translating lyrics of some songs, having friends correct my grammar, I made lots of progress as well as plenty of wonderful mistakes. My favourite was probably noticing the hot pink nail polish on the fingers of my friends mother, and, thinking with my English brain about how tasty the colour was, commented 'gostoso!', which in Brazil, like many seemingly innocuous words, has a sexual connotation and is not appropriate to say to an elder. Love that mistake. I tried reading Valter Hugo Mãe's O Filho de Mil Homens but I made it too complicated by writing down all the new words—it slowed down the reading momentum and I ended up giving up 6% of the way through; later on I learned that if my goal is primarily to converse, I don't need to weigh myself down with acquiring literary vocabulary as it rarely encountered in casual speech.

As of 2021, I consider myself fluent enough for my purposes. There's lots I don't know and I have to make an effort to pay attention and speak, but I don't stress about having conversations with people and that was my goal. I notice also that Brazilian Portuguese actually relaxes me—it's dislocating to speak with the kind of agitated meticulousness (a programmer's gift!) that usually accompanies my English, and so I must chill out before my mouth starts moving. I have not had such a demand from any other language I have learned.

It's interesting for me to observe how only a few years ago I actively disliked the sound of this language. On first contact, especially with the European dialect, the sensation I got was that the mouth needs to contort itself to make strenuous movements and physically rigid positions, like a kind of slavic language that menacingly breaks the teeth of new learners. I somehow also felt disconnected from the rhythmic phrasing in Brazil's dialect, finding it to be too loose. I think I ultimately just wanted it to be like any Spanish from Latin America that I was familiar with, because Brazil is like right there next to all those countries, but this is a terrible expectation to have of a language.

Brazilian is growing on me slowly. I'm still not fully in love with it. I call it a beautiful mess: "ela é linda, e uma bagunça". I never thought I would ever speak or understand it, or that I would even want to, but what a nice surprise it has been to create this new pathway in my life. It's been a part of my developing a [[relationship with Brazil]].

I have been speaking Brazilian Portuguese since a trip to the country in the beginning of 2020. I already had a lot of experience with Spanish for a few years before that point, but I like to point out that most people in other Latin American countries don't automatically speak or understand Portuguese—it's not as mutually intelligible as one would hope and needs work to acquire like any other language. In fact many people in Brazil need subtitles to understand the European dialect.

In the beginning, I only wanted to know survival concepts like buying food and asking for directions. I used Anki to make flashcards for some basic phrases and learned about ten to twenty cards fairly quickly. Eventually after starting to use what I learned, I wanted to see how far I could take it—I had a playful curiosity about it and wasn't being too serious about it, almost trying for kicks.

Over the course of a few weeks of conversing with people, translating lyrics of some songs, having friends correct my grammar, I made lots of progress as well as plenty of wonderful mistakes. My favourite was probably noticing the hot pink nail polish on the fingers of my friends mother, and, thinking with my English brain about how tasty the colour was, commented 'gostoso!', which in Brazil, like many seemingly innocuous words, has a sexual connotation and is not appropriate to say to an elder. Love that mistake. I tried reading Valter Hugo Mãe's O Filho de Mil Homens but I made it too complicated by writing down all the new words—it slowed down the reading momentum and I ended up giving up 6% of the way through; later on I learned that if my goal is primarily to converse, I don't need to weigh myself down with acquiring literary vocabulary as it rarely encountered in casual speech.

As of 2021, I consider myself fluent enough for my purposes. There's lots I don't know and I have to make an effort to pay attention and speak, but I don't stress about having conversations with people and that was my goal. I notice also that Brazilian Portuguese actually relaxes me—it's dislocating to speak with the kind of agitated meticulousness (a programmer's gift!) that usually accompanies my English, and so I must chill out before my mouth starts moving. I have not had such a demand from any other language I have learned.

It's interesting for me to observe how only a few years ago I actively disliked the sound of this language. On first contact, especially with the European dialect, the sensation I got was that the mouth needs to contort itself to make strenuous movements and physically rigid positions, like a kind of slavic language that menacingly breaks the teeth of new learners. I somehow also felt disconnected from the rhythmic phrasing in Brazil's dialect, finding it to be too loose. I think I ultimately just wanted it to be like any Spanish from Latin America that I was familiar with, because Brazil is like right there next to all those countries, but this is a terrible expectation to have of a language.

Brazilian is growing on me slowly. I'm still not fully in love with it. I call it a beautiful mess: "ela é linda, e uma bagunça". I never thought I would ever speak or understand it, or that I would even want to, but what a nice surprise it has been to create this new pathway in my life. It's been a part of my developing a [[relationship with Brazil]].