April 12, 2006
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April 11
I spent half an hour trying to feed five kittens with an old insulen needle. You have the really loud one screeching, two other ones meowing, and then the quiet one and the hissy one. When you try to feed them, they suddenly find everything else more interesting than the needle and let the milk dribble down their chin. So I put them back and grab a different one only to find the same thing happen again. I don’t even like cats. Why am I trying to rescue these? I haven’t really decided yet. Why or how. The mother cat got run over on Sunday. I can’t walk down the hall without hearing their incessant longing, begging, demanding voices.
They are doing “American Idol” in Brasil (Brasilian Idol?) and had tryouts in Recife. My friend Leniusion sang for them, but they told him he would be a better radio announcer than a contenstant on their show. Hey, at least he was on TV.
Today one student said “You are very beautiful, Teacher” (in English) so I thanked him and asked if he really knew what he was saying. The kids really like classes, and actually asked if we HAD to have a vacation day for Easter this Friday. Wow.
I have learned an interesting custom in Brasil. Oftentimes, they give “chehiros” instead of hugs. “Chehiros” are literally “smells.” You go up to a person, stick your nose in their hair, and take a quick wiff. The person receives this invasion of space as a motion of affection. Hmm. Rather odd. I think it might be awhile before I adapt this custom. It is making me rather self-conscious about how my hair smells, and the first time someone did it I thought they were looking for dandruff or something.
I had my first English class in Timbauba on Saturday. 13 students, and they asked how many more were allowed to come…rather taken aback, I said I probably could not handle more than 20. I hadn’t really thought they were interested, as I’d offered to teach and they’d put it off for over a month. I was wondering if it was even really worth it to try…God must be laughing at me againJ. I spent the night at a very nice, wealthy home where I used silk sheets and an air conditioner. The air conditioner messed up my throat, but I rather like silk sheets. Ahh.
Sunday we went to Laoga De Itaenga. Ricardo decided that since I am a part of the ministry team, I need to do more than smile (which was my original game plan) so he put me in charge of teaching the children a Bible verse. In Portuguese. And the first verse they were to learn was John 3:16. do you have any idea how LONG John 3:16 is in Portuguese? I realized the extent of this familiar—now not so familiar—verse was when I tried to memorize it. and another problem was that “Only Begotten” in Portuguese is rather similar to “toilet paper.” While learning it, I had visions of children repeating with me “…That He gave his toilet paper Son…” thank GOODNESS this did not happen. To learn it, I wrote the verse out on different papers and then would turn them over until the whole verse was gone. The plan worked fine until I kept having to cheat because I forgot the verse too. Bleh. I think the children found it rather entertaining. At least they had fun.
After the lesson, one lady gave me a Jaka. Our last time there, she’d given us Jaka, but it was the soft kind. The soft kind is stringy and mushy and…I think that dispite my valiant attempt at facial control she knew I didn’t like it. So this time she gave me a hard Jaka, which everyone said tasted much better. I thanked her and we left. When Ricardo dropped us off and cut it open for me (it is a weird green spiky thing) he told me she’d walked two hours—one hour there and one back—to get the Jaka for me. I decided right then and there I’d like Jaka for the rest of my life. I am so humbled that someone would do that. I felt too unworthy to eat such an expensive gift. The lady is older and has a hard time getting around. Please pray that God would bless this incredible woman. I don’t know her name. Just call her “Jaka woman.” God knows.
I went downtown yesterday to buy some things and ran into Heather on my way back, who was alittle worried and had her “not again Rachel” look on her face. For my side of the story, it wasn’t COMPLETELY dark yet, just late dusk. She simply said “Rachel, you do know that we don’t have the money to pay ransom for you.” Hmm. I asked what it would take and how old I’d have to be before she stops feeling responsible for me. the answer? “Until you’re married.” So it will be awhile.
