For someone who left home at a tender age of 10 for school and then left again for university at 19, I was surprisingly terrified of going on exchange to Brazil. After making my decision, people exerted their fears of the unknown unto me. Extremely fatigued, I put my life on hold in the U.S and embarked on a 14-hour flight to Brazil—a rather overlooked destination—but the yearnings in my heart were louder. So, I listened. I kicked off my welcome week by celebrating São Paulo’s 463rd anniversary. I couldn’t stop smiling in the car as I heard the boisterous Sertanejo beat lingering all around the park and witnessed passionate Brasileiros—young and old, fair and mixed in complexion—move their hips to the rhythm. I hopped out the car and I was never prepared for what happened next. In less than 10 steps, I was swarmed with topless and tanned Brazilian men who went in straight for a hug and kiss. It felt as if I had “gringo” (foreigner in Portuguese) plastered all over my forehead. “Você é Brasileira?” I smiled anxiously and replied quickly with my limited Portuguese, “Nao, eu sou Tanzaniana”. I wasn’t terrified; but rather impressed at the machismo temperament that they carried proudly. I scurried past the men to explore the rest of the park. As I walked around, I couldn’t help but notice the genuine joy that every Brazilian exuded as they danced and the passion oozed out of each person whether they were talking to someone or selling food in their food trucks. I didn’t expect to find the most affectionate and passionate people like I did in Brazil. People were present. Time seemed to move so slow. It was refreshing to be immersed in such a warm culture that shared values like the African culture— dance, food and people. Nevertheless, nothing could have prepared me for my next experience. Carnival, known as the greatest party on earth, still leaves me at a loss for words. I was equally excited to immerse myself into the pre-Carnival spirit as the locals did. Therefore, I sought various samba school performances as they showcased their carefully choreographed dances and partied the night away in the upbeat São Paulo to prepare myself. Rio De Janeiro had it all. I didn’t expect a true Carnival spirit was demonstrated by ambitiously navigating the whole city amidst an influx of 1.9 million people to find the right party or the Sambodrome would be a spectacle as the dancers in flamboyant costumes marched to beat of unanimous drums across a 700m runway. After sleepless nights, my spirit longed for quiet time. I left the chaos to replenish by embarking on some island-hopping excursions along the coast of Rio. Just when I was convinced that the cariocas (Rio natives) had made an impression on me; a quaint city called Ouro Preto proved to me that a simple life attracts peace. If a small colonial town packed with history, stunning architecture and cobbled hilly streets came to mind; that sounds accurate. I loved that the atmosphere marked peace and stillness. People from near and far had made a home in this place. From researchers pursuing their dissertations on the archaeological sites or the old Italian couple who had built a retirement home; Ouro Preto seemed to create a place for everyone who had chosen it. Bahia was the tipping point of my trip. It varied from lush landscapes and pristine national parks, cradled bustling Salvador and tucked away magnificent waterfalls. It bestowed heavy African influences in its food with the likes of coconut stews. Don’t get me started with the warm, sandy beaches scattered along the coast or their incomparable car-free islands. With tears in my eyes, I whispered, “Bahia, you’ve set the bar ridiculously high for all the places I’m yet to explore.” My point was not to find the extravagant and loud things. It was in the quiet moments. It was in the little things. It was in the most unexpected places that my soul finally found rest. The need to perform for the world fell away and I unraveled back to my core, authentic self. I left Brazil as a changed woman.