the internet started freaking out on me, so i didn’t get to finish…

so we went to the park

hey…you try it in a skirt.

and then stopped at McDonalds. McDonald’s in Brasil is for rich people.
basically put…minimum wage is between 2 and 2.50R$ or so an hour. a
happy meal is 11R$. So that is about 5 hours of work for a happy meal.
if minimum wage in the US is 5.25$ (what is it now, anyways?), that is
like a happy meal costing 26 bucks. you just don’t do it very often.
These kids had never been to McDonalds. We drove past the golden
arches, and they didn’t even know what they meant. None of them had
been to the zoo. or to the mall. The escalators…the first time,
Edwardo had to be pushed on. Roberta jumped, to make sure she got on it
right. They had never seen them before. it was the first time going to
see a movie. First time in air conditioning (except for maybe visiting
the post office, which is the only public office building i’ve seen
that is air conditioned…and i doubt they have ever mailed letters),
and first time…i don’t even know what all else.

Fabiana’s first happy meal.

thanks for giving.

so if you don’t know the story…i worked in Circle Center for 5 weeks the last time i was in the US. got to know some good people. one of them, Susie, took a conversation we had, went around to everyone, and handed me a stack of cash the last day i was at work and told me to take them kids to the mall, movies, McDonalds, or wherever.
last Saturday it happened. 11 kids. Cacau and Patricia brought a bunch of clothes from their homes and had the kids come super early. They gave them showers, did their hair, and gave them nice clothes to wear. because the kids don’t have them. some didn’t have shoes. The girls didn’t have hair ties. The clothes they did have were pretty…old. So by the time i got there, 11 shining faces and heads full of gel (the boys were very proud of that) grinned up at me. We ate hot dogs for breakfast and got on the bus for the zoo.

L to R: Joao Paulo, Flavio, Rafael Jose (the monkey), Cezar, Kinho, Rafael Felipe (other monkey), Edwardo, and Rodrigo

L to R: Roberta, Rebeca (Patricia’s daughter), Lucy, Victoria (Cacau’s daughter), Fabiana

One of the kids commented “aren’t you gonna take any pictures of the animals?” because i just kept taking pictures of the kids, who were so much more interesting.

Rodrigo is 8. he has flunked kindergarden three times because he doesn’t talk. he just doesn’t. He has 10 brothers and sisters at home. One is Lucy, the girl behind him in this picture. They all are like that. Rodrigo stares into space and looks at the ground. He carefully does anything you tell him to do…but it is like he isn’t living. it is more like a robot moving around. but on Saturday, Rodrigo laughed. He got on a swing because HE wanted to, not because someone told him to–and he laughed.

This is Joao Paulo (with Rafael Jose sneaking in). When Joao Paulo was three days old, his mother walked down to the main street of Paudalho with him in her arms and yelled out to everyone who passed, “Does anyone want this kid?” one lady, Joao Paulo’s present mom, took him. her husband then left her, because he didn’t want to take in another kid.

This is Lucy, Rodrigo’s sister. (her real name is something longer and harder to say, so i shortened it to Lucy. i think she sorta liked it. She didn’t talk much). It took me half an hour to get Lucy to look at me in the eyes. She just doesn’t. It took even longer to get this picture of her…where she has her hands on her hips and almost looks sassy. It is only recently that Lucy has begun to talk. When she and Rodrigo started coming to the Living stones/ PETI project, they sat in a corner the whole time. They were too embarrassed to eat, although they didn’t have food at home. They would take the food and eat it away from everyone else.

This is a picture of Kinho, to finally get him smiling.

This is Cezar. very cute and very out of control and very wonderful. during the movie he kept giving me hugs, and then watching the big screen open mouthed, then giving me hugs again. at the end he said “i didn’t cry–there was a problem with my eye.” Cezar’s name at home is “Satan” or “Devil” or the name of the street demon (huh? i guess the street he lives on has a demon? that is how it was told me and i translate to you). His mom hates him. He lives on the street most of the time, because their house, with him, three brothers, and their mom (who drinks), is the size of my bedroom (have you seen my bedroom? very small).

ok Carina…they just do it so much cuter than we did.

This is Rafael Jose. I think his favorite part of the day was the escalators. he kept running off and going up and down them, laughing with delight. On the bus he started crying. When Cacau asked him what was wrong, he said “i just can’t believe that you Tias (teachers/helpers…) would want to be seen with me at the mall.” it is so ground into him that he is…something less.

This is Victoria–Cacau’s daughter (Cacau and Patricia run the Peti program). She and i have been close since my Angel died. That day, we came back from the hospital, and had to tell them the news. neither she nor i knew what to do, so we just sat next to each other and cried and hugged. she’s a darling.

After the zoo, and another snack of hot dogs and cake, we went to the mall and the movies. We saw a movie about the lochness monster…the whole thing was dubbed Portugese, so i didn’t get it all, but i had fun just watching their faces as they saw the big screen for the first time.

Flavio, on one of those interesting looking swings.

Rafael Feliphe is driving the car (the kids got to each play one game) with Rafeal Jose telling him how it is really done. It was their first time doing a video game like that. We have the same exact machine at the youth center on free play all day. what i wouldn’t give for teleportation. or something like that.

i finally caught Edwardo, who was so into driving the car that he didn’t notice that i took his picture. he’s not a picture person.

captured…a little bit of joy. Then we went back to the bus, and ate rice and beans and mashed potatoes and fried chicken (i love their versions of picnics!), and went to the park.

There’s something alive out there
there’s something going on
i see it in your eyes right there
will i catch it before its gone

moving slowly towards me
i hold my breath and stare
for nothing is so beautiful
as what i’ve just seen there

Hope
is here
born in the middle of my pain
taking away all of the shame

Faith
is real
it has broken all formality
gazing deep through the reality

to you

so it finally happened. 11 kids. a bus and a day full of things they have never done. it started as a conversation with a coworker at Carson’s in Circle Center…and it ended at McDonald’s in Brasil.

i am learning that you get out of things what you put in them. if i put fun and interesting things into my classes, they turn out pretty good. and the kids really like ‘em. We are doing a play of little red riding hood. with a slight twist, due to the creative minds of the third grade. (this story is also illustrated. interestingly enough.)

“this is little red ring hood. her mother’s name is Rachel. she will take chocolate and pizza to her grandmother. She met a wolf named the good wolf. he said, “where are you going?” “to my grandmother’s house.” “I will show you the way.” The bad wolf went in the house and ate the grandmother, and put on her clothes while little red riding hood and the good wolf went into the house. the bad wolf said, “come in!” Little red riding hood knew it wasn’t her grandmother and said “you have big eyes, a big nose, big ears and big teeth. You are not my grandmother–you are a bad wolf!” “Help, Help!” And the good wolf helped little red riding hood. Then the grandmother ate spinach and jumped out of the bad wolf. the bad wolf ran away and the good wolf turned into the woodcutter.”

the spinach part was Neto’s idea. They wanted the grandmother and the woodcutter to get married, but i said it made the story too long.

the current classroom obsession is Jake. Jake is the name of my whiteboard marker. i have regular conversations with him, and he is often labeled my boyfriend (they are rather determined to get me married, one way or another). Since i write the merits and demerits on the board, when everyone starts talking or falling out of their chair i just start having nice talks with Jake about how “oh no, Jake, please don’t write LUCAS’ NAME on the board! I don’t want to give out demerits today!” and miracle of miracles, everyone quiets down rather quickly. Then something horrible happened yesterday. Jake died. completely out of ink. so i got another black marker. The hot topic at the moment is if we should find a different name, and if it is Jake’s brother, or son. We settled on brother, since i shouldn’t really date a father/son combination. i think tomorrow i will decide that Jake (er…his brother, since the original Jake is in the trashcan) is dating the eraser.

and yes, we do learn some English in these classes. i promise.

I’ll take the dream i had last night
and put it in my freezer
so someday long and far away
when i’m an old grey geezer,
i’ll take it out and thaw it out
this lovely dream i’ve frozen
and boil it up and sit me down
and dip my old cold toes in.
–Shel Silverstein

What a day,
oh what a day.
my baby brother ran away,
and now my tuba will not play.
i’m eight years old
and turning grey,
oh what a day,
oh what a day.
–Shel Silverstein
***

I love you buddy, and wish i could be there when you go to the resturant with the flaming cheese that touches the ceiling. I wish we could throw snowballs and even that you would wiggle your cold toes against my leg.

The boy
on the side of the road
rolls his pants up
to keep them from falling
he doesn’t have a belt
or elastic in the waist

i look again
he doesn’t have any shoes
and it makes me wonder
if he has any other clothes

***

i went to PETI today to teach them UNO and Go Fish (with the Alphabet). i figured maybe i could teach them some colors, numbers, and the alphabet in English too. we started to play–me and five or six 8-11 year olds. i soon hit an obsticle.

they didn’t know their letters in Portuguese.

and neither did i. at least not well enough to teach them.

how could i even think about teaching them English if they didn’t know Portugese? others didn’t know their colors. or numbers. or couldn’t understand the concept of these basic games. Where are they going to go in life? is it passing them by already?

and i left, without teaching one color or number or letter. i got on a Kombe and stared at the beautiful trees. i grabbed a snack and laid on my nice bed with stripped sheets…something those kids won’t get today, or tomorrow…and i cried.

Diego and Feliphe went shopping (to the feira) with me. i have decided one should never go shopping without random hands to hold all the random things you find. like 12 mangos for one Real. Four avacados for one Real. three bunches of lettuce looking stuff and celantro for one Real. Then we stopped at Felipe’s grandparents house for water. They needed a break from holding all my mangos.

and here is where i want to type a million words and tell you how it was to sit there, sipping water from a glass, and listen to this beautiful, old, wrickled woman tell us about how she sneaked off to train horses when she was 12.

or should i try to tell you about how Nal caught a mouse with a clothespin? Aninha spoted a moving tail, the rest of him hidden under the sink. Nal motions for me to grab something to get the mouse, so i grab a clothespin. Nal clips it onto the tail, but the mouse stays put, and now all we see is a randomly moving clothespin bobbing under the sink. Aninha stood on the chair while Nal got pliars and i laughed hysterically while wondering how big this mouse was. With pliars, he pulled out the mouse, clothespin and all. and then i think he killed it, but Aninha and i didn’t look.

words don’t work very well.

We have 24 teachers/workers at the school this year. that is more than we had teachers/workers/students combined in 2006.

I like Moses. he had this issue about trying to do everything himself. and then finally people come to him and are like…”get over it…i am going to help you.” and then they hold up his arms. and then they divide and set judges over small groups of people.

A round trip ticket to Indy from Brasil, via Miami–2,300 Reis (1,300$US)
A round trip ticket to Indy from Brasil, via London–2,400 Reis (1,350$US)
decisions, decisions.

i ate cow pancrious (spell? that thing in your body). it tastes like liver. i wouldn’t recommend it. they sell it right next to the shrimp that still has its eyes. boogly, black eyes.

i remember why i don’t write alot of snail mail letters. besides the part of writing them, i have to go to the post office, which is only open from 2-4pm weekdays, and stand in line for an hour. litterally, an hour. luckily, it is the one building in town that is air conditioned. by the time i get to the front of the line, i have hummed every song from “Sound of Music” twice. i got to the post office lady and she says i cannot mail my letters. she says to come back on Monday and try again. i panic. after slow explaination, she says she cannot mail them because i put seashells in the envelops. so i tear open the letters and remove the seashells. she then tells me she does not have envelopes. i find paste and glue them shut. then she asks me how i like Brasil. bad question at a bad time. i exit the door, yelling “Freedom” and gulping down the fresh, non-air conditioned air.

i heard a strange word the other day and repeated it, asking what it meant. bad move. everyone ahhhhhed and said for me to never say that word again. funny how, i, the American, who is clueless to the cusswords and their meanings, am rebuked, and yet, the original speaker is not. i told him never to say things i couldn’t repeat. he looked sheepishly back.

I asked the zebra
are you black with white stripes?
or white with black stripes?
and the zebra asked me,
are you good with bad habits?
or are you bad with good habits?
are you noisy with quiet times?
or are you quiet with noisy times?
are you happy with some sad days?
or are you sad with some happy days?
are you neat with some sloppy ways?
or are you sloppy with some neat ways?
and on and on and on and on
and on and on he went
i’ll never ask a zebra
about stripes
again.
–Shel Silverstein

“We don’t want to be left behind. we want to go with Frodo.” cried Pippen in dismay. “That is because you do not understand and cannot imagine what lies ahead.” Said Elron. “Neither does Frodo,” Said Gandalf, unexpectedly supporting Pippen. “Nor do any of us see clearly. It is true that if these hobbits understood the danger they would not dare to go. But they would still wish to go, or wish they had dared, and be shamed and unhappy. I think, Elron, that in this matter it would be well to trust rather to their friendship than to wisdom.” “Let it be so then. You shall go.” Said Elron, and he signed. “Now the tale of the nine is filled.”
–J.R.R. Tolkien “The Fellowship of the Ring”

i brought a bag of color Goldfish (those chedder crackers) for the kids, as something special for Valentine´s day. There isn’t Valentine’s day in Brasil (only Boyfriend/girlfriend day in June) so i tried to explain the consept. one kid in class was like “So how did St.Valentine die?” i told him old age. i mean…you just can’t prepare for all those questions…how did he die, anyways? and what did he do that was so special?

Thursday afternoons i have off, so i am going to the PETI program in Paudalho. It is also called Living Stones (in English). The government helps fund it, but apparently the funds are short. There weren’t alot of kids today, because there wasn’t any food. the kids that did come, came straight from school, without any lunch. i had the small remants of my bag of goldfish.

i didn’t even have 5 loaves of bread.

Patricia had all the kids wash their hands and sit down. my heart was sinking and i was praying for God to multiply what was left (after i had already given it to 30 kids at school). we ended up having enough for 4 little goldfish per kid. i wonder if those kids will get any dinner.

Patricia and the kids from PETI

Jeff and Linday are hereeeeeeee!
the Alcance is full of laughter and fun. sorta feels like camp. i even lost my voice, just like camp.

There is the back of my head as i am leading the kids in…some song…maybe “Jesus loves me.”
February 7th started our third year of school. To tell the truth, it
went so fast i don’t remember much. We are ironing out all the
scheduling and problems, and having new students show up each day.
Right now, we have 59 students–ages 2 to 9th grade (well, skipping 7th
and 8th grade because there isn’t anyone of those ages). I had a couple
moments today, when Neto read a book, or Mariana responded to a
question, or when Adna understood complex directions, that i stopped
and thought “wow, their English is really good!” i guess i shouldn’t be
so surprised. The hardest part at the moment is having mixed
classes…4th grade has 3 students from last year who know quite a bit
of English, and 5 new students who still say “Goody Mooningy.” in the
middle of teaching i look up to either see 5 kids completely LOST or 3
kids bored out of their mind.  another prayer request would be for the
curriculum to arrive…although i must admit that aftter two years of
not having it on time, i have become more adept on making due. And
everyone–everyone who is reading this should try, at least once in
their lifetime, to come see these kids sing “This Little Light of
Mine.” it takes the cake.

Anna’s little man, Heitor. he lost his tooth during class today. he wanted to show you.

they tell me not to play favorites, but…

i wanted to go for a long time
i wanted my heart to be broken
i saw how it affected others
and i wanted that for myself

but i was afraid at the same time
because i don’t like to see hard things
dirty things
things i cannot change or control

and once i see it
i am responsible for what i see
i can never go back to not knowing

drove to the dump
flies. flies. flies
stopped and i wondered
if this was it

i felt nothing
slightly annoyed by flies
slightly sick from the smell–
but there was wind

and i saw them
the birds
royal, white, elegant birds
walking in the trash
their slender legs picking the steps
their wings lifting them softly above

and i couldn’t hate the dump
i couldn’t look down on it
there was still beauty
there was still wind
and the same blue sky

And it made me mad

i wanted to go to the dump
to be shocked and horrified
write lots of touching things
and feel happy with my sucess

i wanted the bad things to be bad
dirty things to be dirty
and hard things to be hard

because then maybe the opposite was true:
the good things are good
beautiful things are beautiful
and simple things are simple

because that is how i want it to be
and i feel disallusioned and empty
when i realize
it is not as simple as i thought
and those beautiful things
are not so beautiful all the way through
and the good things…

and i turn my back and say
i hate it all
it is all horrible
and i’ll just close my eyes until it is all over

my eyes open without my willing them
and i see the sunshine
i see someone giving love
sacrificing themselves
fresh wind
and pure, white birds

and it makes me mad

because i wanted to throw it all away
and i can’t
because there is something beautiful still happening
and God is still here

then He does something more
whispers hope to me
presses love into my closed heart
and i cannot fight against it

and the dump
might not be what i thought it was
and life
might not be what i think it is

good and bad
dirty and beautiful
hard and simple
mixed and multiplied

but this is where i am
this is the day i am living
this is my God who is ruling
and i will rejoice and be glad in it