On Monday the maid came (and we needed it…I always can measure how long it has been since the maid came by how quickly my feet get black—since I am forever barefoot) and we spent all morning doing our best to get out of her way, moving from one room to the next before she got there.

Pastor Josue thought he had dingy fever, but went to the doctor and they said he had a cold and gave him some medicine. Then he started turning all red with white blotches, and so we thought he had an allergic reaction to the medicine. Well, by Tuesday morning, we were sitting at the breakfast table and he was SO red with SO many white spots and feeling SO bad that they called a friend who told them to go directly to the hospital. Now we have everyone running around the house, people calling, and everything going crazy. Christiana—who is a great girl-20 years old and plans on going to the Seminary in January (she is Monica’s sister-in-law) came and spent the day with me and the two girls.

It was my mom’s birthday yesterday, so I made her a card, took a picture of me holding it, and then put it on my weblog…ahh, technology, don’t you love it? Then we had the whole afternoon doing nothing…and knowing different languages, so I gave her an English class and then we started to make snickerdoodles (the one cookies I am good at). Unfortunately, they don’t have cream of tarter. I found some stuff I thought was baking power or baking soda (I can never tell those two apart anyways), and dumped some of that in…by this time I figured measuring was useless too. Then I had no clue what the word for cinnamon was, so instead we rolled them in sprinkles (which actually looks a lot prettier). The finished result was alittle over buttery (I just used the whole tub of margarine) and did not really resemble snickerdoodles at all, but was declared a success and Christiana wants me to go to her house and make them sometime. (problem is, I will never be able to replecate them since I don’t really know what all I put in it!)

Christiana tried to teach me how to play the guitar, but I didn’t get very far, especially considering I burnt my fingers making cookies. It is hard to play the guitar without fingers. I tried. David called up and told me to be on my guard because where there is one dingy mosquito, there are more. This is making me slightly paranoid. Especially when I go and look at Josue, who seems to be turning redder every day. Bleh. Please pray for him.

Today Ivy (Josue’s wife), Christina, and I went and did some errands, walking around the center of town. Oh, I love doing this. I have been in Brasil long enough to not look too much like a tourist, but I still always seem to fall behind because walking and watching everything—without tripping–takes a lot of talent. We stopped for juice (oh, life is so good) and I have decided to try every kind before I leave. Today was Pinha. I’ve had the fruit before, and it looks like a cancerous green lump. Inside it is white with big black seeds. It is pretty good. Two mormon guys walked by (who are American) and I resisted the urge to call out to them in English just because I knew they would understand. There seems to be a TON of mormon Americans in Brasil…like in every small town! That is horrible! Tell me, where are the Christians? I think it would be nice to sit them down and have a nice chat in English sometime…where do they get the motivation? They seem to have so much more of it than we do. And I am thoroughly ashamed of us. And they dress so nice too.

This is from a book i am reading “Beauty may be the most powerful thing on earth. beauty speaks. beauty invites. beauty nourishes. beauty comforts. beauty inspires, beauty is transcendent. beauty draws us to God.“ (because God is beautiful) and i love seeing that beauty. “You have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace…“ Song of Solomon 4:9

 

this mom, is the family picture i sketched for you. but you won´t get it until December. sorry.

and this is the real thing, which looks much better. i SOO cannot draw little people.

My first day of recess
They all laughed at me
When I fell off the swing set
And scraped up my knee

The nurse called my Momma
To say I’d be late,
And when she gave me the phone
I could hear Momma say
“I’m so sorry, son.
Oh I think you’re’ so brave”

And she was smilin when she said:

When you come home,
No matter how far,
Run through the door
And into my arms
It’s where you are loved,
It’s where you belong
And I will be here
When you come home

I waved good-bye through the window
As I boarded the plane,
My first job in Houston
Was waiting for me

I found a letter from Momma
Tucked in my coat
And as I flew down the runway
I smiled when she wrote:
I’ll miss you, son,
You’ll be so far away

But I’ll be waiting for the day

When you come home
No matter how far,
Run through the door
And into my arms
It’s where you are loved,
It’s where you belong,
And I will be here
When you come home…–Mark Schultz

 

Actually mom, the song goes on, but the last part is sorta depressing, so I cut it. but the song is so pretty. I will sing it for you when I come home. And you will probably cry. But that’s alright. I love you mom, and I want everyone to know it. The other day we sang a song in Portuguese, and it was a song that you used to sing me to sleep with. I still remember holding on to your long hair as you rocked me. I remember the day I locked myself in the bathroom because I hated life and you slid alittle note under the door telling me you loved me. it was written on the back of an envelope. I still have it. why I happen to remember these two memories, I have no idea, and why I cannot seem to remember anything else at the moment…well, opps. Perhaps it is because things are alittle crazy here. Pastor Josue just had an allergic reaction to his medication for whatever it was he had before and now it turning all red and puffy and they are taking him to the hospital. So Christiana and Monica came over to take care of me and the girls. Anyways, I love you lots and lots and I do hope you have a wonderful birthday. You are a beautiful person that I respect, admire, love, and well…you are my mom for goodness sake!

It is starting to heat up here in Brasil, and I am becoming Brasilian in more ways than one as I get into the habit of having two showers a day. I am now living with Pastor Josue, his wife Ivy, and their two girls, Juliana (6) and Isabelah (4). I live above a store that always has fresh bread, and the apartment has a porch with a hammock where I can see the street and the school that I used to attend. I really am enjoying it here, and the only difficult thing is cold showers. But as long as I get all hot and sweaty here (which takes about 5 minutes flat), I am finding they are not so torturous.

 

You know how I don’t like coffee, milk (the milk in Brasil is just enough different—I mean hey, it can last six months on the shelf, so there has to be SOMETHING majorly different about it—that I haven’t gotten used to the taste), or chocolate? Well, I have found that if I mix them together (3/4^th milk and 1/4^th coffee) I get something close to a frapachino. Since Josue and Ivy drink coffee religiously for breakfast and dinner, this is a treat I enjoy and can fit right in with their family.

 

Every morning at 5:30am Ivy walks around Timbauba. I have discovered a whole new world during this time (and I had no clue so many people walked in Brasil), as I get to watch the sun rise over the hill, shining through the palm trees. I love watching the people, listening to Ivy and Christiana chatter away in Portuguese (although I mostly tune out since they speak so fast), and breathe the fresh air of a new day. It is fun to pass the center where about 50 older people are gathered and a guy blasts some dancing music while leading the group in dancing/exercising.

 

I really enjoy living with a pastor’s family, it is a lot different from Marcio’s home. For one thing, I got up and lounged around today, thinking that since it was Saturday it would not matter, only to have half the church show up at different times while I was still in my pajamas. But it’s all right, because they never know what to expect from me anyways, so pretty much accept anythingJ. Please pray for Pastor Josue, because Thursday he unexpectedly came down with…something. He thinks it is dingy fever, which sounds very horrible, and I was pretty worried about catching it, but I think it is only passed through mosquitoes. Dingy fever sounds like something you only get in India or something. I gotta keep my eyes out for those mosquitoes. Bleh.

 

Wednesday I went to English class that Raquel’s teacher invited me to. We ended up spending the whole time talking about me—from what I thought about the hurricane, to religion, to how the heck I came to little-bitty Timbauba. It was fun. I always feel special when I can do something well. Thursday I went to the Alconce and made a cake (mixing a whole bunch of things until I thought nothing would work) and everyone actually liked it. It was basically passion fruit/guava mix (my secret ingredient was instant juice stuff…I thought it might bring out the flavor). Classes went well and Filphe and Diego (friends from English camp) came to see me. I went to church with them that evening, and as we showed up, they decided I should sing…you know, another impromptu to thingy, and it went really well. They go to a Presbyterian church, and the pastor is a teacher at the Alconce. Every time he sees me he gives me a big hug, tells me how great I am, and says the next time he will bring me bolo de rolo and suco de Maracuja (my two favorite things). I doubt he will ever remember, but it is a sweet thought anyways.

 

Since I do not have a way back from Timbauba, I get to spend Thursday nights in Nazare with Tele’s family. Karine and I enjoyed the time to catch up on life (you know, all the giggly stuff as this is her first official week with a boyfriend), and I got to watch CNN and feel American again. These times are really nice. I have hit the three-month mark, and am finding some things I miss—like my kids at the youth center. I miss my car and driving wherever I want, whenever I want. I miss having a job where I am needed. I miss the park, and a gym where I can get all hot and sweaty. And don’t forget my family. I think what I miss most is not being a part of the memories. I am making so many wonderful memories, but so is everyone else in the US…and all those memories are different. But enough of that.

 

Friday I achieved one of my goals—to master the bus system (well, at least to do it without getting lost or hyperventilating). This is really nice so I don’t have to rely and worry and bug Tele about taking me here or there. So I bought some fried corn and fresh guavas (all for less than $.50US) and boarded the bus. I enjoyed snacking away while watching the sugarcane pass. It is a good thing I didn’t eat more for lunch, because sometimes the ride was so bumpy I would miss my mouth as I tried to eat my corn (the corn is literally cooked until slightly blackened over the fire, and is much chewier than our normal corn on the cob). Good thing I have walked with Ivy all over Timbauba, because then I found my way from the bus station to their house just fine—exhausted, but happy and feeling more independent than I have in months. OH! The power! Bwahahaha! Don’t worry; I won’t take over the world until tomorrow.

 

Rachel

Stop

Make a choice

The choice of a lifetime

Once it is done

It is final

No looking back

You will give your life

You will die your death

To defend this choice

 

Go

On each day

Living this choice

In the good

And the bad

Whatever will come

Will come

It changes nothing

Any consequence

Is already accepted

 

Faith

Is making the choice

The choice of a lifetime

Once it is done

It is final

It is saying

I see the truth

And will accept

Nothing less

 

Trust

Is going on

Living the faith

When it is easy

And when it is not

It is knowing

That what comes

Will come

But I will continue

On

 

Love

Is making the choice

The choice of a lifetime

Once it is done

It is final

It is saying

I choose you

And reject

All others

 

Marriage

Is going on

Living this love

When it is easy

And when it is not

It is knowing

That what comes

Will come

But I will continue

On

 

Because nothing

Shown in the light

Changes in darkness

 

There is no

New information

All I need to know

Is already written

All I need to say

Is already spoken

 

A choice

Is not worth making

Unless I put

My life behind it

 

I am wind

With no movement

I am waves

With no water

I am sound

With no voice

If I am not willing

To risk it all

For that choice

 

To say that

There are things

Bigger than me

And I will give all

Just to know them

 

Because my life

Is too small

To live for only me

My life is too short

To hold in my

Expectancy

The days are

Futile and fleeting

Worthless and waning

 

As I sit

In the middle

Viewing the adventure

Seeing the glory

The excitement burning

The expectation aching

 

But I know

It is not safe

I know

I will loose it all

And my fears

Tie my hands

I think that

If I follow

I will go too far

To ever return

And when I get there

I will find it is only

A mirage

And in the end

I will have nothing

Not even the rags

I had before

I am afraid

That it is really

All I deserve anyway

So I might as well

Eat and drink

For tomorrow I die

Why should I go after more

When I can’t even keep

What I have?

 

And then one morning

I wake up disgusted

That I am satisfied

With so little

I realize I would

Give everything I have

To simply end

The emptiness inside me

And even if it isn’t true

I could rest in peace

Knowing I didn’t hold back

 

And I would rather

Have nothing

Than the trash

I call something

 

I would rather

Be disillusioned

Than never followed

A dream

 

And with faith

And something beyond

Myself

I know it is not a dream

I know it is not an illusion

I know what is written

Is true

I would give my life for it

Now I must go and

Live in remembrance

Of this

 

So blow me

Where you will

Do your worst—

I will be here still

 

I believe in something

Stronger than you

And no matter what happens

It will still be true

 

These are the choices

That shape my life

And I will live in

The light of them

Even when I can’t see