As I write this, it is raining in Paraty.  It is still beautiful, but its cold. The weather also occupied the mind of one of the writers I saw on day 5. Hanif Kureishi, (English mother, Pakistani father), grew up in  Britain in the 1970’s. He said he “started writing to stop going mad.”  He shared he was racially abused daily as a child with the neighbours asking him at times “is it warm enough for you” or “where are you from.” As he pointed to the house in the street the neighbour would say “no, where are you really really from,” as though the double use of “really” would…