|Only the finest lingerie will do when painting in Brazil.|
|After the fall.|
|There is paint in my armpit. I guess they didn't get it all when I got wiped.|
Later when we said our goodbye hugs, I asked Luciana,
"Do I smell like paint?"
And she said, "No. You smell like a sweat people."
Here's a little idea of what it is like to be me for the last three weeks, surrounded by funny sounds: