May 9, 2008
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We take so much for granted. I take so much for granted. The dryer broke in Brasil. Dryer, singular. You don’t see very many dryers in Brasil. But the washing machine is holding out, so I was happy. It was inconvinent on rainy days, to have half smelly clothes laying around my room, trying to dry out with a fan…but we made due. I went to Aninha’s house and helped her with their laundry. Because they do not have a washing matching. Most people don’t. And after working all week, washing laundry takes up most of your Saturday. It is a pain. Here in the US washing clothes is an afterthought, something you throw in and pass to the next machine. You don’t have to worry about birds pooping on your sheets. It made me re-evaluate my dreams.
My little daydreams are so very…American. The little white house…or big white house, since I figure ten kids would be nice. But houses are not normally white in Brasil, not made of wood, no picket fences, no grass…and 10 kids with no dryer presents a problem. And with the reality that I might not have a washing machine either (they don’t have laundramats either), 10 kids is looking…like a lot. And transportation. Most people I know do not own cars. Let alone 15 passenger vans. There are no 15 passenger vans. You squish them in kombes. getting around with 10 kids would be a little different in Brasil. Most kids don’t even use car seats. Ever. At least food would be do-able—lots of fruit trees and a pot of rice and beans…
And I wonder if all of my ideas of life are doomed to be smashed to pieces at some time or another.
And then I pick up a magazine and read about the water situation in Asia, Africa…where they spend all day getting water. That is their job. Bringing home water. They have had water shortages a couple times in Brasil. Where suddenly there just wasn’t anymore water coming out of the faucet. It is freaky. I was like “They can do that?” apparently, they can. And life is horrid. You can’t take a shower and suddenly, you feel all dirty and scratchy and like you MUST take a shower. You cannot flush the toilet. You cannot wash your hands. You cannot wash the dishes—you let them pile up. And you don’t feel like leaving the house because you feel grimy. Then you make yourself a snack and feel grimier and leave a mess…you just don’t feel like doing anything except sit in front of the faucet and see if the water has come back yet. Imagine that being your life. Now imagine that with 10 kids. And life…suddenly looks a lot different.
Sometimes I feel like missionaries are salesmen. And I have to sell my desire…my idea, my dream, what I want to do. I have to say why it is worth them investing in. I have to prove the point that it is worth it. I have to make people see it and understand it and believe in it and support it. But it is all so scary because it is such a sacred place in me…and I have to have it out in front of me where anyone can reject it. Anyone can dispise and laugh at it. Or worse, anyone can ignore it.
“For God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man percieveth it not. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed, He openeth the ears of men and sealeth their instruction.” Job 33: 14-16
The book of Job is rather amazing. Full of questions and contradictions. It reminds me of life. A lot of my life lately. Not the suffering part…that is really only the first chapter or two. No, all the discussion and wonderings part that goes from chapter 3 and on and on. Job has no answers. What is different about him from everyone else? He refuses to give into simple explainations—he holds on to both ends of the contradicting facts and says—It might tear me apart—but I ain’t letting go.
So I am in the US of A. my trip here was good, I spent all day in Sao Paulo, so I figured I would do some sightseeing. Sightseeing turned out to cost a lot of money, so I went to the mall and people watched instead. People in Sao Paulo are about the same as everywhere else. But I felt really small on the bus. Sao Paulo is the 4th largest city in the world. Right after NYC. And you cannot just stop a couple places and see a couple things and say you know a city. It is alive and real. Moving so fast around you. The buildings just go on and on.
I brought back a live bug. Found him in my trunk after arriving home. Opps. I also forgot to take the juice out of my bag, but it went through all that security just fine. Which makes me wonder if those detectors really do their job, if I can get a whole quart of liquid through without anyone noticing. Isn’t that how they make bombs?
