I have just had my first sip of black coffee in Brazil. It is very strong, pungent, bitter, and yet, strangely addicting and aromatic. As I sit quietly before a wide, barred window, I observe the minute details of the buildings across the street. Often, many are painted in a white, fading wash, and have black decay creeping up the sides. I examine the rugged exteriors for a few more minutes, in awe of the sun's irreversible impact on the landscape. I soon look to my right, to be startled by rows of glossy complexes, which are shooting out of the ground, ready for new growth.
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