Dude.

I just had my first capoeira lesson, and it so rocked the house. I haven’t done martial arts in ten years, and this was just a one off (okay, maybe there’ll be another one if we’re lucky), as part of our school’s Black History Month. In addition to learning the jenga, one kick one little cartwheel and two defensive postures (I so can’t recall the portugese names), we learned a little about the history, the culture, and the meaning of the songs; why it had to go underground.

So, this wasn’t the first time I’d been exposed to Capoeira. My friends told me about it in high school, and i’d heard about it when I was studying Isshin-Ryu Karate back in the day. I saw a movie about it with Marc Dacascos ::sigh::. I was in Brazil, and saw some young men playing capoeira in a park. But this was the first time I’d tried to do it (and dude, I’m so glad that I’ve been running lately. I’d’of died, otherwise.) and the experience was just amazing. One of our classmates has played capoeira for a good long while, and the way he speaks of it, and of how it has shaped and molded his life and experiences was just amazing. (He’s originally South African, and is lately from LA.)

Yay! Black History Month! Yay!

And now I’m trying to google the terms he used, but damn I can’t figure out what he said. Bugger. The man speaks, like, seven languages fluently. When he is speaking in Portugese, it’s a blur. Bugger, bugger, bugger. I’m gonna have to email him.

Gah! Dinner!