Month: July 2005

  • I have been working on my washing techniques. you know, I washed my socks in the sink for the very first time in my life. it takes alot to get socks clean in the sink. and I wonder how many other things I have taken for granted all my life. it is times like today when a lizard popped out my suitcase at me that i remember i am not in Kansas anymore.

     

    There was a situation where in love we had to correct a sister in the Lord. It was a very humbling experience as I struggle in the same areas and desires and yet in meekness I was to go to her, knowing that could fall at any moment. She completely understood and changed and I got a hug in the process. restoration is a beautiful thing, and I only hope that when I need to be corrected, I will be able to respond with as much grace. you know that feeling of knowing you do not deserve to be in the place you are? it was like that. I have felt that alot as I sit down and watch the people here. The Americans…the times of prayer that we have leave me saying “God, how could you be so good to me in placing me with these Godly people?” the deep conversations…these are the people I want to be around and work with. The Brasilians…I see God working so clearly in them.

     

    On Wednesday and Thursday the medical clinic was in Carpina, where the original community church is established. There were so many people waiting. They would have them sit downstairs, then call them up to be first seen by the nurse, then the doctor, and receiving their medicine on the way back downstairs. They had plenty of helpers in the very small upstairs, so I stayed downstairs after I snapped my pictures. We did a short skit, and then came the long waiting time. I sat next to some people I knew…but was really pretty bored. Ricardo then got me involved with a bunch of little kids.

     

    This is really a very simple process. The way to get involved is to speak English with someone. suddenly, everything around you stops and you are the center of attention. So then I turn around, find one pair of eyes, connect, and ask them their name. Then I quickly ransack my brain for all the other Portuguese words I know. mostly our conversation is about their family–how many brothers and sisters they have, how many brothers and sisters I have, how old they are, how long I am staying in Brasil, and food. I have gotten pretty well on talking about food, so I go through every food word I know and ask them what they like and do not like. After about 5 minutes of this, I have 10 kids sitting around me. then I ask them if they want to learn English. most of them are too shy, but normally you have a brave one in the bunch. with this brave one, you then point to your nose and say “nose” and so on with the mouth, eyes, and ears. You go back and forth until they know it pretty well and then keep pointing without saying the word so THEY have to fill in the blank. then you go faster and faster until everyone messes up and you all laugh. By this time I am exhausted and have to get a drink of water somewhere. but boy, it’s alot of fun. All the mothers are standing around thinking I am either the sweetest thing or the silliest thing they have ever seen. and I don’t want to know which they have decided on.

     

    Thursday I brought my juggling balls and scarves and added that to my routine. oh my. no one really learned how to juggle, but there were balls and scarves flying all over the place and lots of laughing. In the two days, over 500 people were seen, making the total over 800, and probably over 1000 after today. Thursday was the busiest day, as there were people waiting to be seen in the afternoon before we went to lunch (there is the morning crowd, from 9-12, and then the afternoon from 3-6)! That means many of the people were waiting many hours to be seen. Dr.Chuck said that the last woman they saw came in with a bright smile. He ask how long she had been waiting, and it had been about 4 hours. She simply said “but I know the care is worth it!” What I think is neat is that each person will also be followed up by the community church. just imagine. would you wait four hours in the hot weather to see a doctor?

     

    Wednesday night we went to the house church of the new Acacias church plant. This church came out of people we met last year at the English camp. This family is very well off, and boy, did they have a beautiful house–I think they had a maid for each one of their children too. There sure is something to be said about house churches (besides the INCREDIBLE deserts they had)…it feels so homey and you get a deep sense of “We are the body of Christ” instead of a habitual building. The Spirit of the Lord was there and I felt so close to these people I had never met before. my only regret is that I did not take my camera with me. oh well. a funny note was that Tele did not introduce David, and the women thought that he was my brother because our noses look the same. hmm. do I have an English nose (Heather is English)?

     

    Purpose. that is what I have been thinking about lately. Some of the kids from Sao Paulo were telling me that they just wanted to go to the US because Brasil was so boring. I said “Voce sempre quer o que nao tem” (You always want what you do not have.) I do not remember exactly when I was, but something happened around the time when I was 16 and I realized that God had given me a purpose. The words “to glorify God” suddenly had meaning. and suddenly I had meaning. And that is something I see so lacking everywhere. if I could think of a song for my generation, I think it would be “Go the Distance” from Hercules where it says “I would do most anything to find where I belong…” And you know what? my purpose is nothing specific I can put into words…oh, I know here and there little bits…going to Brasil…working in the inner city…stuff like that–but it is something deeper than that…knowing that wherever I am, I have a reason for being there…even if just to pray and be still.

     

    Steve said that he thinks you find your purpose as you are serving. so you go out and serve, and as you are, you realize where God has equipped you and what really brings you joy–what fulfills you. I agree. it was when I went into the inner city and started working that I felt something greater than me–a calling, a use for my time that I felt good about when I laid my head down that night.


     

    very few people seem to find it. the world seems to one busy mass of nothing. When I sit down and think, what is the point? I mean, whoopee–I worked all day and now my paperwork is half-done? what is paperwork? I mean, come on–what is paperwork in the scheme of life? TV? oh, there is a good way to spend your time…what do you come away with? more emptiness–and guilt on top of it now like a cherry. I never feel a waste when I have studied or read or memorized the Word. never. and the same with meaningful conversations with people–because the souls of men and the Word of God are things made out of eternity. the rest is made out of atoms.

     

    I want to know how to pass on purpose to someone. my practical side is yelling for a five step plan. because saying “oh, live for God” or “go serve God” or “Obey what God has already said” is very useless and frustrating to say sometimes. And so often, that is the only answer–yes I know that. but…Oh God, isn’t there more? too bad I don’t have the power to lay hands on and give purpose. ohhh, wouldn’t that be neat! no, that would be scary. anyways, I just pray for God to give purpose to so many people I know. I think it is one of the greatest gifts after salvation. knowing that hey, when I roll over and open my eyes in the morning, there is a reason to get out of bed and live 100%. Because of God–my God–and His plan for my life and how I can reach out to people and I can get to know Him more today. and those footprints are set in eternity. I am living for heaven.

     

     


  • Well. here is the Comby–the ONLY way to go in Brasil (they are VW buses and the main form of transportation). We fit 12 people in. L to R: Steve, some guy from Sao Paulo, Chuck Taylor, Kathy, some girl from Sao Paulo, Roberto (you can’t see his face), Dr.Santos, and the intern he brought.



    This picture is our mime group plus John (L to R) Ricardo, John, Katia, Gilson, Me, and Karine (i sure hope she does not find out this picture is posted. she would kill me. it is not her best, as you can see. she is a lovely girl, and FANTASTIC at mime, which i cannot say for myself.)


     

  • so I have learned what a medical clinic is. pretty neat. Yesterday they pulled out all the medicine they had brought and we repackaged it into ziplock baggies to give to the people after they had been seen at the medical clinic. We did this for hours. Considering they see over 150 people a day, it was alot of little baggies. We had an assembly line going, counting and measuring and putting in baggies and closing them…it was quite fun, and the jokes were running as well, although I only caught a few of them.

     

    The doctor and nurse went with Dr.Santos to Recife to the different hospitals and areas there. Dr.Santos is a lead doctor and has had many papers published. He studied in Japan (and had to present his thesis there in Japanese) and then in the US (and had to learn English). So he, along with some of his medical students (I guess he also teaches?) came to the clinic today also.

     

    Today they set up at Cajueiro Claro. As each person came, they had them fill out their name and such, the main problem they had, and any other specific issues on a 3×5 card. Then they went to the nurse and had their blood pressure checked and weighed. Then they were assured into the doctor, who checked their breathing and any issue they were complaining about, circling if they were to receive vitamins, Tylenol, or some other medicine (vitamins and Tylenol were the general ones given out in abundance). They then took their filled out card to one of the girls from Sao Paulo (who is training to be a dentist) who gave them soap and a toothbrush, and then to Heather, who gave the prescribed medicine, vitamins, and so on. It was quite efficient. I think it is a lovely idea. And from these clinics, they have seen a general rise in health in those areas.

     

    In the morning, before this went on, and then in the afternoon, they also had a church meeting. We sang, they did mime and puppets, and one of the doctors gave their testimony. What was so neat for me was that my friends from Paudalho (from camp last year) were there. they are on the mime team at their church, and they have been coming down to Cajueiro Claro and teaching the younger kids (8-12) how to do their own mime team at their church. The whole “mother-daughter” church feeling is so strong here, as they share their ministries with the other churches…that is how it is supposed to be!

     

    Just getting to Cajueiro Claro is an adventure. you take the “highway,” which is the two lane road that connects Recife to Guadalajara to Paudalho to Carpina to Tracunheam to Nazare to Timbauba (On the map you can see road as it goes from the coast inland–east–and then north). Anyways, around Paudalho, you suddenly take a right on a small dirt road. this is the only road in or out of Cajueiro Claro, and it is all dirt and VERY eroded. It has alot of steep hills and turns. on the way back we were met by *gasp* another car, and it took quite a bit to figure out how to pass without falling off the hill or in the ditch.

     

    If you do not remember the whole story of Cajueiro Claro, here is a quick summary: The church had been run by people who had seen no success…only one person baptized in 17 years. They decided to give up and work somewhere else…but had this wonderful building. They ended up giving it to the community churches, and one of the students at the seminary here (located at the Alconce, where I am staying), Valmir, felt called and began pasturing there. I believe it was within the year that they had 55+ members–mostly being youth who are on fire for the Lord. It is continuing to grow, and there are many more neat opportunities opening up there.

     

    I talked with some of the people from Sao Paulo. They flew in, because to drive would take days (it is like from Indy to California–which by the way, is where my lovely mother is, resting and recuperating from–get this–her cold and complications she got during winter). Their church sent them, along with lots of toothbrushes and soap to give at the medical clinic…some of them will be helping at the English camp, and some of them serving in Timbauba (they are from Pastor Josue’s sending church). So they are doing a short-term missions trip also.

     

    I talked to Tele today, and he said that Pastor Assuerio e-mailed over a week ago. Pastor Assuerio and his family are in Africa, sent by the churches here. They have been there two months now, and are getting used to the weather (I think it is similar to our winter there right now, and for Brasilians, this takes alot of getting used to), Miriam (Assuerio’s wife) had skin problems from the weather, but they are getting better. The kids are attending a Christian school that the Lord provided…and at no cost! Pastor Assuerio is assisting in the church down there, and preparing for a conference this December with over 500 pastors from Africa. Please pray for them, as they are also learning English (in Mozambique they speak Portuguese, but in Johannesburg where they are also serving, it is mostly all English).

     



     

  • This place is hopping. especially compared with all of last week. Steve Turner (who is the Brasilian representative in the US, been here more times than he can count, and is super neat–I have known him since middle school camp where I found out the inside info that he is the inventor of the McMuffin. We owe alot to this man:)), Chuck Taylor (who is a doctor with lots of kids–lets here it for big families!), and Kathy (a nurse) arrived yesterday, and a bunch of people from Sao Paulo arrived this morning (they will be the staff at the English camp). David, Katia, and Ricardo are now sorting all these pills into little bags. and I am clueless as to what exactly is going to happen at the medical clinic. So, I am thinking that I will probably be hanging out here and doing odds and ends for them. works for me!

     

    On Friday I hit sucess…at least for my cooking. I boldly marched into the kitchen (when I was sure no one was there) and began cooking. I was missing a few ingredients, but everyone agreed the end result was “brilliante.” I heated up the rice, made beans (even though I had NO IDEA they took two hours to cook! MY WORD. Katia said she would show me the pressure cooker so it only takes 30 minutes), CORRECTLY made goose-goo (and no, it is not the small round noodle stuff from Morocco that sounds similar–this is a traditional North-east Brasil thing), and TA-DA! made “Galinia Guisada” (sp? it means chicken something). Everything looked, smelled, and tasted good and I was exhausted. I think my cooking zeal has now been laid to rest for awhile.

     

    Did you miss me and my novels over the weekend? I went to Nazare Da Mata to the Moraes’ house. Praise the Lord that Tele’s mom was able to go home Saturday night. I ate lunch at Roberto’s (a good friend from last year–and I still cannot pronounce his name right!) house and his mother made me bolo de rolo (literally, cake of roll–it is a guava jelly roll and OH SO GOOD). It was so nice to be back in Nazare, because that is where I was most of my last trip. We walked to the Obelisk (one of my favorite thinking spots ever) and visited David’s friend Luana. I bought a coconut for $.60R (about a quarter) and the guy cut the top off with a machete and I stuck a straw in and drank it apprehensively. Agua de coco (coconut water) is sorta an acquired taste…and I found that I have acquired it and really enjoyed it. Last trip it was too sweet for me at first–especially when I thought it was regular water and took a big gulp before I realized my mistake. I thought I would look totally Brasilian by sipping my coconut on the front steps, but was quickly brought  back to reality by Karine, who said Brasilians never sit on the front steps sipping a coconut. so I did it anyway and looked completely American.

     

    We went to VBS in Tracunhaem (say that three times fast: tra-coon–eye-yem) and it is like everywhere I go I am reviving friendships. That is something so wonderful about the community churches here. They are so close, so when I met everyone, now I know people in many different cities and run into them everywhere…it is immensely fun, and makes me feel less…foreign. We did not have a class to go to, so ended up being part of a skit of…the short guy and Jesus (I can’t spell his name). it was all add lib, and alot of fun. Since I do not understand everything that is going on around me, I have found that I am drawn to people’s expressions more. Isana (I have kept in contact with her and her sisters since 99) was so fun to watch as she led all the kids in singing. Some people shine through themselves, and she is one of them. So is Raquel (translated Rachel in English) who I got to see at church last night in Timbauba.

     

    Timbauba was the other place I lived last year. It is one of the newer church plants, and is Tele’s hometown. Last year it was just beginning, with mostly Tele’s family supporting it. It was incredible to come back this year and see how it has grown. I feel like I am watching a beautiful flower growing. There was one girl that was really on my heart that I met there last year–Monica. Monica is younger than me…18 or 19 now, and she and her boyfriend were just miraculously saved when I met her. While I was gone they were married, and are still growing more. awesome. Tele’s brother-in-law (who was in a horrible motorcycle accident last year) sang “Love me tender” to me…he still has a thing in his throat and gets around slow, but considering at first they never thought he would leave the bed, it is a miracle. His kids, Raquel (I went to school with her last year) and Daniel (he is determined to get me with a water balloon this year at English camp–ending our year-long war) are both doing great. I feel alittle weird giving you these short little intros to people, when they should be fully explained and appreciated…but time and space compel me to stop there. I will send more pictures later.

     

    I loved the drive from Nazare to Timbauba. Not only is the sky bluer here (okay, before I continue, remember that I am thoroughly enjoying my Brasilian bias here), but the sky is deeper…with more stars than I have ever seen before. So deep and clear that I can see the faint haze of the distant galaxies so far beyond my grasp. the clouds roll in like the scene from “Lion King” where Mofasa appears. The stars are so near that I feel them close in on me, yet so far that they mock me saying, “you will never reach me, you will never attain to me.” The clouds leave as quickly as they come and make me wonder what I have done this day to make it valid…to make it worthwhile. and now I leave my wanderings and come back to earth with a stiff neck from gazing upward.

     

    Get this: 2 Chronicles 12:14 “And he (Rehoboam–Solomon’s son) did evil, because he did not prepare his heart to seek the Lord.” so often I simply sin because I did not stop and prepare my heart.

     

    Rachel

  • I have been reading “Mere Christianity” during the soap opera/Portuguese by osmosis sessions. Most of it is things I already knew, just put in a nice, condensed manner that is much easier to share with others. But I came upon something I have always struggled/wondered about: how once you are saved you go to heaven…and it is the same heaven for the thief on the cross who cried out right before he died as the saint who gave his entire life in dedicated service to the Lord. Even that I can reconcile better than the attitude I see in some of my kids—“I am saved, so now nothing matters and I will party my youth away and get serious later.” Basically my best answer to them has been “Just you wait, God is gonna get you. He will not let you live your life like that—He will discipline you.” And then they walk away with a swagger that says, “Come and get it God.” And I stomp my foot with an ARRGGG! Because part of me wants to yell after them “It is not fair for you to go to heaven! With an attitude like that, you could not possibly be saved and are going to hell.” (Are you shocked with me yet? This is my honest feeling sometimes.) Of course you can tell these kids “oh, well, forget about your jewels and golden crown to throw at Christ’s feet” but what do they care?


     


    C.S. Lewis made the point that makes a lot of sense. Heaven is the same heaven for all, but only what has been sanctified and put through the fire will be able to enjoy it. It is like this: as today I make choices—to serve God or to serve myself—I am either stepping into a servant, Christ-like world of habits, or a selfish, evil world of habits. Each choice is a step in a direction. The more I choose Christ in those little things, the more habits are formed and Christ is formed in me. At judgment day, when all is stripped away, all that will remain is what Christ has made in me. The more of ME that it is, the more I will be able to enjoy this place He has prepared for me. Are you with me? For those who have only alittle surrendered to Christ, they will see the same heaven, but not be able to enjoy it in the way it was intended. How horrible! An illustration would be that the grass would be so true, so REAL in heaven that one not made for heaven would just pierce his foot through with it. This is the call to live for Heaven, thus affecting THIS DAY what you do. He says it better:


     


    “I would much rather say that every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning into a heavenly creature or into a hellish creature…each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.”


     


    That is my message for todayJ. I found out yesterday that there are no washing machines here. Ricardo and Katia have a personal one, but that is it. I asked Edjane how she washed her clothes and she said the smaller things she washed in the sink, the larger she took outside and washed in a small tub. She has done this all her life. I guess everyone else here does it too. My word. As I explained to her that at home my mom does my laundry, I realized that I sounded like a very spoiled little girl. And that I am. And that I wrinkle up my nose every time I have to wash my underwear in the sink. I think I will still bring my clothes and wash them at Tele’s house (they have a dryer too—one of the few in the whole area!), but I am figuring out ways to conserve and hand wash some too. It will be good for me.


     


    Yesterday Ricardo dropped David and I off at downtown Carpina to do some shopping. David is so nice to follow me and hold the basket of things as I bombard him with “What the heck is this?” questions. We went up and down the isles, getting random things I thought it would be neat to try and cook. Then we took a break for “sorvete” (ice cream) and “pamonha” (this corn stuff served in the husk) and hopped the bus home. We felt very grown up.


     

    Gilson and Katia were cooking and took me under their wing to teach me how to make “Galinha Guisada” this kind of chicken that is INCREDIBLE. So they went step by step and David translated as we made it. I also had them go over how to make rice, beans, salsa, and bean soup. I figure if I can make these things well, I will die a happy woman. So I wrote down each step (in my own way) and tried to figure the basic measurements (as they don’t measure much) and time (they do it by sight). Super cool.  

  • July 7, 2005


     


    I got my suitcase! Oh, praise the Lord! There were many necessary things in there. I had gifts I brought to, so as I was opening my suitcase David was almost salivatating over the chocolate. I started unpacking…and no chocolate. I had brought a box with 36 Hershey bars. It is hard to miss. I get to the bottom of the suitcase, and no chocolate. Grr. You should have seen David: “That is horrible! Someone needs to give us our chocolate! How corrupt can they be—taking chocolate? I am going to call them right now!” And he did, but it has not gotten anywhere yet. Karine said that once when Tele was bringing them back some sweets, they were examining his suitcase and they dumped it all out—and then in front of him—took a big swipe of the candy and put in his drawer and then continued searching the bad! Yikes.


     


    Well, the bug bites are up to 50 and as I was religiously itching them I was trying to talk in Portuguese and said something about the horrible “moo-sa-kas.” Well, apparently that is NOT the word for mosquitoes. It is something similar, but enough different that David and Silvio (another seminary student who is hilarious) could not stop laughing at me. They have determined to call the bugs “moo-sa-kas” from now on. David says it like on Lion King when the hyenas say “Mufasa.” Then I was complaining about this huge zit I have under my nose (interesting what is important to you in another country, isn’t it?) and I called it a “biscoitos” well, I knew as soon as that came out of my mouth that it was wrong. As they started laughing I remembered that “biscoitos” was the word for cookies. This is just the beginning of my mutilation of Portuguese.


     


    Tele and Karine came and we began to work on “pantomime.” Now, my only claim to fame is doing mime when I came in 99, but that seemed to be enough for them to let me join. This is much harder—it is 16 minutes long, just instruments—no words—and five people. There is the victim (Karine), Jesus (Gilson), and then the three bad people (Ricardo, Katia, and I). It is the story of the victim being used by each of us (I represent deception, Ricardo drugs, and Katia witchcraft) and then Jesus comes to save her but she will not trust him…he dies (well, we kill him) and is raised and then she believes and finally each of us are saved also. It is incredible. A lot of work too. Karine took charge and I must say, she was fantastic. She not only is one of the best mime people I have seen, but she also has great leadership skills as she had us all stretch out and learn our parts (only Gilson had done it before). And she had to do it all in Portuguese and English.


     


    The problem is that I am just not very good at aggression. Karine was like “think of someone you hate—oh, wait, you don’t hate anyone do you? Come on Rachel—be mean—think evil!” so now I have homework to look in the mirror and find a way to make my face express evil and deception. They kept laughing at me because the harder I tried; the more bouncy I got instead of more evil. Oh well. I know I am not the greatest, but I will give it my best shot. It is definitely a stretch for me. Outside my box.


     


    You know what is funny? Edjane understands English, but hardly ever says it, and I understand more Portuguese, but mutilate my attempts to speak. So normally what happens is I ask her something in English and she responds in Portuguese and we understand each other perfectlyJ. Here was our conversation today:


    Me: Bom Dia! Voce aqui hoje? (Good morning! You here today?)


    Edjane: Nao. Trabalha (No, work)


    Me: Todos dia? (all day?)


    Edjane: Sim. No trabalha Sabido o Domingo (yes. No work Saturday or Sunday)


     

    Does this remind you of the caveman “oohh ohh me eat now!” stuff? But hey, I am learning. The shower head loomed over me again. If you did not know, the water is heated only as it comes through this huge shower head thing. There is no on-off switch, so whatever comes out is what you get…the less water pressure the hotter it is because it can heat it more. The problem is when you adjust it because the knob is metal. If you are standing under the water and try to make it hotter or colder you get a nice little ZAP. It certainly wakes you up in the morning!

  • Betty (the cat) and I had a falling out. She really loved me and would come to me when I walked by, but then two things happened. One, she got her head dirty and started stinking so I tried to give her a bath, and two, Edjane came back and is allergic to cats, so I had to kick Betty out of the room. Oh well. I still feed her.


     


    Tele and Heather came back long enough for the band to practice. They are staying longer because Tele’s mom is doing so well that they are hoping to release her from the hospital! This is quite a praise because at first they thought she would need surgery, then that she would be there ten more days…and now only two! I loved practicing with the band. Here is a funny story—one of those stories how God works without you. Last year I had asked my mom to send me some things I had forgotten. Well, they were heavy enough that it was much cheaper to send them by boat than air. Never send by boat. I was there for two more months and it never arrived. After I went home they said it came a couple months later. In that package was a songbook. I saw that songbook today and from it they were able to learn and translate four new songs for our English camp (they sing in Portuguese and I in English)! So hopefully when I return I will know “Here I am to Worship” and “Open the eyes of my Heart” in Portuguese.


     


    We were singing when I saw Ricardo walk by barefoot. Since shoes are another thing I have in my missing suitcase (which, they called and said SHOULD be here today), Ricardo said I could borrow his and I have been wearing them constantly. (He is shorter, and just happens to have the same size sandal as I do) When I asked, he said, “oh, it is okay, I have shoes.” But I did not realize that I was wearing his only other shoes! Oh my. Please pray for Jaciara. I had gotten really close to her last year and got to see her at church on Sunday. She is doing well and now has a boyfriend (who is shorter than her, but that seems to be pretty common here) who also goes to the seminary. She came on Monday with bumps all over…some kind of rash. Edjane took her to the doctor and he said it was contagious (of course, they tell me after I give her a big hug). I have been itching a lot lately, but I am pretty sure the only ailment I have is the kamikaze mosquitoes.


     


    I tried to make some more goose-goo, and this time there was salt, but the problem was that when Ricardo showed me, he did not measure anything. I ended up putting in four times the proper amount of salt in. David, like that trooper he is, still ate it. Gilson came in, took a mouthful and then painfully swallowed and showed me the proper amount of salt to put it. For something only requiring two ingredients, I sure am having a hard time of it. What will happen when I move on to making rice and beans? On Sunday, three Americans are coming in and life will be different. It is funny how quickly I distance myself with pronouns from the “other” Americans! They are busy cleaning rooms and getting things ready, because the medical clinic will be next week. And I have no idea what a medical clinic is like, but I am sure I will learn.


     


    I am becoming a soap opera addict. Can you believe it? Brasilian soap operas are world-famous so it seems. The normal routine for students is to get up, go to school, eat lunch, do their homework or other school activities, and then be inside in front of their television by 7:15pm (yep, they start things on the quarter-hour here) for the soap opera. Even David is hooked. The famous one running now is “Essas Mulheres” (“These Women”). David has given me the basic storyline and I have an interesting time watching their facial expressions. About half-way through the show I don’t even hear the words and have to concentrate to try to pick out words I know. This is my “Portuguese by osmosis” plan. Last night we also watched the Brasilian version of “The Apprentice,” but I fell asleep after about 10 minutes of it.


     


    I had a good time with the Lord this morning, with the morning sun on my back, the palm trees in front of me (the bugs all around me), the lizards running up walls, and birds calling to each other. There was a line of ants, each carrying their burden back to the hole. And as I came before the Lord I asked myself if my heart was really clean. Because I always think it is, and pray it is, and then—like clockwork—sometime during the day fine some horrible thing in it…a selfish attitude, a bad habit…and I wondered if I could really be as fresh and new as the morning was. Then 1 John 1:9 came to my heart. The verse I have had memorized for how many years? But the promise is so sure, so complete. He will forgive and clean. He HAS forgiven and cleaned. Simple. And wonderful.


     

  • July 5, 2005

    I tried to cook yesterday. Ricardo showed me how to make goose-goo (I guess it sounds more like “koos-koos”, but I like calling it goose-goo anyway.) which requires two ingredients, so I figured I could not mess it up too badly. Well, it was edible, and everyone applauded my efforts. You just need the corn mix and salt, but I could not find any salt, so I used this stuff that smelled salty. It turned out to be super concentrated salt, making the goose-go taste OVER salty. But other than that, my cooking was a success. And David was nice enough to eat it.

    On Monday nights they play futebol (soccer) here, and I watched them until the bugs had

    gotten their fill of me. I sure do miss Pastor Assuario. He would always have me join in and help me out, even if he did make me look bad by passing the ball through my feet. There are a lot of people gone it seems. Pastor Assuario and his family went to Africa to serve the Lord. It had been his dream for over 18 years to go. Sundah (who was the director of the camp last year) and his wife are serving at his home church now, Raissa and Samela moved to Bahia, and Edna (who was in charge of the puppet ministry and much more) moved away. And then there are people like Lenuison who cannot be as involved because they have other things to do. Ahh.

     

    Oh, I enjoyed my first fejoada (beans), rice, salsa, and suco de Maracuja (passion fruit juice) in eleven months. My word, it was so good. As we were walking to the gas station, I was so happy and overcome with just a joy to be there. Please continue to pray for my computer, it is really messing up a lot and making this difficult. Last night Edjane made us dinner (since my attempt was NOT called dinner) and Katia, Ricardo, and Gilson were all there, eating and laughing around the kitchen. It was so wonderful. It was a “moment.” You know, those times where you know life is special. Gilson is always making everyone laugh and telling jokes, and as he saw my blank face (I obviously do not know when the right time to laugh is, and normally just laugh because everyone else is and I love to hear it) he had Ricardo translate for me. (Which was nice because a lot of times I just sit there for a long time not understanding. And, more often than not, I never learn what they were saying or what was so funny. At first this used to bother me, but I am totally reconciled with being clueless, because the other option is to be a bother to them and constantly be asking, “what did they say?” I choose the lesser of the two evils.)

     

    Here is one joke I wanted to write out for you, just so you can understand alittle of how Brasilians think.

    The Israeli police, Scotland Yard, and the FBI came to Brasil for a contest to see who was the best. They would release a rabbit into the woods and see which group could return with it the soonest. The Israeli police came back 20 minutes later and everyone was impressed. Scotland yard came back in 25, and the FBI went all out, flying in helicopters and red lights, snagging the rabbit in 15 minutes. The Brasilian police took their raggedy old car into the woods and two hours later returned. “Where is the rabbit?” the others asked, and they said it was in the trunk. They opened the trunk to find a pig, curled up and saying “I promise I am a rabbit! I promise I am a rabbit!”

     

    So what does this tell you about Brasil? Well, they are not very patriotic. They are very world minded instead of just their country, and their police are known for taking FOREVER to do anything, and then giving bribes to get their way. Ricardo said the people are just fed up with all the corruption. My logic class would ask, “If there is no patriotism because of the corruption, perhaps there is corruption because there is no patriotism.” I love the quote from WW2 of “Evil prospers when good men do nothing.” I don’t know, and I sure do not have any place to talk since in the US I barely remember to vote and really care nothing for politics.

     

    Things are just done differently here. Ricardo and Katia are living in one room…like a normal hotel room, and it is not cramped in there, plus they have a small kitchen area made in it…and this is all they own. I think I brought from the US almost as much stuff as they have (okay, slight exaggeration, but still). I told Ricardo that I only have seven reis (about 3 dollars) until I have my money exchanged. I was slightly complaining and he just smiled and said, “Oh, that is more than I have.” And he was serious! He has a car to get around to the churches, but the problem is, finding money to put gas in! (gas is R2.35 a litter—5 litters in a gallon, the dollar is down in exchange, so that is about $5US a gallon) part of me wants to throw everything away and learn what this life is like because…S-T-U-F-F seems to be how you spell “American” nowadays.

     

     

  • July 1, 2005


    Hey. This is neat. I just remembered why I like this skirt. It has pockets in the front…big ones, for my passport and tickets that I have to show everywhere. Gosh, what a neat day. The rain in leaving streaks down the windows of gate 25. It is 7:17 here, 8:17 in Brasil (my computer clock has been set on Brasilian time all year), and 6:17 at home. My plane boards in another hour.


     


    You know what I think? I think fear is an advertising tactic. If they can make you scared of something, they can sell you the solution to that fear. Such as car alarms. I hate them. My car has one and all it is is trouble. It was bought because someone feared their car being stolen. When the fact of the matter really is, that if the person is truly determined to steal the car, they probably will get it anyway. Perhaps I am a silly kid, but as long as I am in the Lord’s will, nothing is going to happen to me that will not work for His glory and my good. I was scared someone would steal my stuff. And yet, isn’t the point, that God is going to take care of it? So if it is stolen, then God has something good for me up that ally? Okay, I know what you are thinking, you are thinking “Now Rachel, that does not give you license to go out and do stupid stuff.” Yep, I know, but listen to my day anyways.J


     


    I got up at 4:30 to take a shower, since I will not see a sanitary place for a while. We went through the line which is forever and I got to my gate sometime after 6amI had brought gifts to give to my family in the airport, but I promptly took them with me through the check through and did not realize it until they were already home. Hmm. They will just have to wait until the Americans get home and I send it with them the end of July. Goodness. That made me feel alittle stupid…but not nearly as stupid as when I missed my flight last time. I think some people are holding their breath, because my track record is not the best. Grr. I arrived in Miami and found a place to store my bags. I really, really, do not enjoy taking them everywhere with me. They are very inconvenient in the restrooms and lines. I think they have grown 20 pounds since I packed them.


     


    I remember Miami airport from the last time I was here, and running around it at 10:30pm because I had missed my flight. I found the help desk, got the bus schedules, and headed to the beach. Yep, one track mind. And yep, I did pray about it and felt a peace. Considering I have ridden the bus once in NYC and once in Indy, I don’t have a lot of experience under my belt and I made lots of friends with the bus drivers. After asking yet another question, one bus driver was really friendly. He told me to watch out for the man in the pink dress at the beach. Another bus driver was riding the bus, and he was making the same stop/transfer as I was, so he got me the right place. But boy, is it a long ride! Almost an hour and half. I get there and quickly lose the skirt and shoes (yes, I have modest basketball shorts on as always). And splash in the waves. It is a perfect day. Ahh. I walked awhile, enjoyed a whopper and then found a nice umbrella to sit under. Soon someone came over and told me it cost $15 to sit under the umbrella, so I moved on, but for a few moments there, it was perfection. And what do you know? I found the man in the pink dress and kept my distance.


     


    I shopped some, and resisted the strong urge to pierce and tattoo myself and then hopped a bus back to the airport. Again at the transfer there was a bus driver walking too and got me on the right bus (they are always bigger black men also, so I just walk behind them and look like I am with him and no one dares to mess with me. giggle. ) As we crossed a street I hear people say, “Hey, that is Big Joe (or maybe it was Fat Joe?), the rapper!” I am sure my kids at the center would have been impressed, but I don’t know my rappers, so missed my big chance to see someone famous. Oh well. I still feel like my life is not wasted *shakes head*. On the bus ride home I managed to shake all the sand off me and put back on my respectable shoes and skirt. I grabbed my bags and curled up next to my departure gate and snoozed. Then I blinked my eyes opened and am now listening to music while I type, looking like another airport professional. Just kidding. Most of them don’t have their shoes off and sour skittles beside themJ. Yep, life’s a trip, and I’m lovin’ it.


     


    Everyone here is looking for home. You can see it so much clearer in their eyes at the airport. Exhaustion brings it out. I started choking on my whopper at Burger King and realized that if I did choke and die that no one there would have cared. All those people passing…and nothing. Just emptiness. That is the feeling of not having a home. Yuck.


     


    July 2, 2005


     


    Yikes. Power out. So all I wrote is gone and I won’t be half so creative now. Oh, and please pray for my computer. My laptop’s mouse is possessed and is moving by itself all over the screen. It is late, but my time clock is screwed anyways, so I might as well write now. I need to get used to the kamikaze mosquitoes anyways.


     


    The flights were pretty uneventful and I did everything right…and I still had one of my bags lost. The one with all my shoes and underclothes in it. So I am fudging a bit. But perhaps they pity on me, because they did not ask my anything in customs…just passed me right on through! As I got my bag and walked to the gate, there was no one. I had a few minutes of panic as I paced floor and found I could not use the phone because it did not take cash and had detailed instructions in Portuguese. But as I looked up, David came running, with Heather and Alyssa close behind. It turns out that they found out when my plane came in an hour before it came (and they live over an hour away from Recife).


     


    Many people have asked me what it is like in Brasil. And I never really know what to say. Of course there are so many details that attack your senses that it would take me years to write them all…but in some ways it is no different at all. Because the point is, I am the same person, staring out from behind the same two eyes. The difference is my surroundings, not me…and most of all, God is the same and my foundation is the same. So it is all about the choices and decisions that I make based on things that are unchangeable, and that is the same in Brasil as in the US.


     


    Coming to Brasil felt more like coming home. It felt more normal than different. I knew the airport, I knew the drive home, I knew the special places where the hills meet and touch the sky, I knew the food, and I knew the Alconce. Okay, here is some review for you who don’t have my life memorizedJ. Tele and Heather Moraes are the missionaries here, and they have four kids: Karine (17), David (14), Alyssa (12), and John (5). Their headquarters, where the seminary is and camp will be, is called the Alconce. It is a beautiful hotel they bought. I am staying here in Edjane’s (pronounced Ed-Johnny) room like last year. Edjane is super sweet to let me invade her space. I really pray that I am not in her way. David is staying at the Alconce also, but the rest of the Moraes family headed for Candeis (Heather’s parent’s beach house), as they are visiting Tele’s mother, who is in ICU for a kidney problem. Please pray for her. She is such a sweet person. She was determined to send me home very fat last year with all the food she kept feeding me when I visited her.


     


    So David and I unpacked my one bag while watching the famous Brasilian soap operas. I have decided to learn Portuguese by osmosis. Oh, and I have adopted a kitten. It is a black cat that is way undernourished and showed up at the Alconce recently. It has a very thin head with extra long legs, making it look more exotic and wild. I have made it my goal that this cat speaks English and comes to “Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty” instead of the swishy sound the Brasilians make to call cats. I started training her with tunaJ. She likes to slide under my bed and then pat my toes with one paw, and is now named Betty. Betty is sleeping on Edjane’s bed (Edjane is with friends), so we’ll see how long that lasts.


     


    Ricardo and Katia (who were married in December…Ricardo is the pastor at Guadalajara and the main church planter as well as doing just about everything else around here) showed me their wedding pictures and Felipe and Diego (two guys from the English camp last year) called and are coming to see me tomorrow. I feel incredibly involved and at home already. In some ways it is like I never left. Except my hair is longer now. Thank God.


     


    July 3, 2005


     


    It is Sunday, and Sundays are normally pretty laid back. Betty decided to join me at 3:00am. The problem was that she likes curling up on top of me…mostly my head. After awhile I just put her out of the room. David and I were trying to figure out how to make some goose-goo (no, that is not the real name, but it is what is sounds like and I don’t know what the correct way of spelling it is. Basically it is ground up corn stuck together that you each like crumbly cornbread) for breakfast, but then Diego and Felipe came and instead we all walked down to the gas station for hamburgers. We had a lot of fun taking turns speaking in English and Portuguese and laughing.


     


    I taught the boys how to juggle and they took the bus home while David and I walked back to the gas station for dinner. Unfortunately, everything closes early on Sundays, and all that was available was…hamburgers. But this time we got one with everything on it—including an egg, ham, and green peppers. It was good, and since they had just cleaned the floor we sat on the edge of the step and watch everyone getting gas (in Brasil it is normal to eat at the gas station, like a one-stop convenience thing). We walked back the long way and stopped to see Tele’s house. My gosh, it is incredible there. If money and place were no question, my first pick to live would be the beach, but this place is close second. It is just…peaceful. The hills and trees and sky and wind together in perfection. The walls are up and we even walked up the handmade ladder to see the second-story. We sat on a ledge and I could easily imagine myself being there forever. It just seems like a place where you can hear God speak. Construction is so different than in the US. The house is going to so amazing. I want one like it someday. And hey, there is land for sale in the neighborhood…J


     


    It started raining on our way back so we got alittle wet. Don’t worry, I am not a heathen, they have church in the evenings here. I got to go with Ricardo to Guadalajara, my favorite church. Oh, it was so neat. I got to see so many familiar faces. In so many ways it is like I never left and I just picked up where I left off. I was able to understand a lot of the message, and we had communion. Last week I was sharing with my American brothers and sister Christ’s body, and this week here in Brasil. Church is a lot a different here. A lot more…informal. They called all the kids forward and say a special prayer for them as they leave, then they have prayer requests and Scripture reading…while you hear the kids singing in the next room. We started alittle after 7 and left around 10—the message was a good hour long. It started raining and the roof leaked so the people just moved to a dry place. After church I stood around and caught up with Jaciara, Carlos, and Lenuison.


     


    Lenuison…my word, that boy is just like one of my kids. He has a job. I am so glad because he was so hopeless before. It is a good job. He is the voice announcer at the grocery store. Him and his incredible voice. He buys the food now and takes care of his mother and sister. He even has enough to buy nice clothes and a cell phone. For some reason, he got his eyebrows done. He totally looks like a pretty boy. He told me his boss wants him to look nice. Goober. But as we were talking he just kept saying how he does not have time for anything. He did not get to finish school and works from morning until after dark (it gets dark around 6). He does not get to sing in the band or take music classes. And although I am happy he is providing for his family, it hurts my heart that his talent and love for ministry is going to waste. And unless God does something, I know that is how it will end up. He will work the rest of his life while his incredible singing, playing instruments, and songwriting sits there dusty. It makes me wonder what is the difference between people…why some are called to greatness and so many are not…and how few actually continue on to their full potential in life. But I guess my un-omnipotence is not a good judge of what “full potential” is. Only God knows what is the greatest called on each life—and outward appearances have nothing to do with it.