Early Christmas gift

So you may not know it, but I have been in the process to get an extension on my visa for about 4 months now. I decided randomly to check online Friday, though my visa paperwork had only arrived at the Ministerio de Justica on the 13th of December. That is the office that decides whether I get to stay or not. They decided. I get to stay! Thanks for all your prayers -- that is an incredibly fast decision, as they generally take months to come out with a verdict, even on renewing visas.
My only problem? I am currently in the US, and I have to have a tourist visa to get back into Brazil, since my "current" visa is expired (I don't actually have the new one until they stamp it in my passport at the Federal Police). Heh. It's never staying that's the problem. It's getting in....

Addendum: My visa was published in the Diario Oficial on Christmas Eve. I still have to have a tourist visa to get in.

On vocabulary

"A noble spirit embiggens the smallest man." - Jebediah Springfield (in The Simpsons Episode 3F13, entitled "Lisa the Iconoclast")
The English language doesn't actually contain the word "embiggen," but Portuguese does. I laugh and think of this quote every time I hear it, and I have been meaning to post this for months. I like Portuguese.

On my blood pressure

I generally have pretty good blood pressure, which is good, because my stress level is sky-high, what with me living in a foreign culture and all. Here's an excerpt from my conversation with my friend Ilce today:
Me: Oh, yeah, my pressure usually runs about 115/75.
Her: Your systolic is 115?! That's hypertensive!
Me: Huh?
Her: You feel okay with a systolic pressure that high? I mean, 120/80 here is already hypertensive!
Me: 115.
Her: Yeah, that's really high!
Me: (still really confused) One fifteen
Her: (finally realizing that something isn't quite right) Oh, I thought you were telling me 150.
(Cue the laugh track) I absolutely couldn't figure out why she was freaking out about my systolic BP of 115 and she couldn't figure out why in the world I wasn't more worried about it until she figured out that I was saying 115 and NOT 150 (and that was her misunderstanding, not my misspeaking). That, my friends, is a testament to the fact that we both need more sleep (writes the blogger at 12:20am).

On shopping

Today, Ilce and I went to Saara (not to be confused at all with the high-end clothing stores, Zara). Saara is a HUGE flea market taking up several city blocks in downtown Rio. Think Chinatown (more specifically, Canal Street) in New York City. Without the back rooms and the police about to strike down on fake brand-name purse merchants. It was visual stimulation to the max, and I am quite happy I already knew what I wanted to buy.
Following our shopping escapade, we went to
Confeitaria Colombo, a turn-of-the (19th to 20th) century coffee and sweet shop. It is filled with history and charm, not to mention the high-quality food. It is in this coffee shop that many famous Brazilians (politicians, artists, writers, everyone who was anyone) spent hours upon hours conversing, brainstorming, writing. What better way to pass time?

Thanks.... for everything

In the spirit of Thanksgiving (and making lists), here is my list of "thankfuls."
1. That I am currently in a season of rest and recuperation.
2. That I am in Brazil, doing what God has called me to do.
3. That I will soon be able to meet up with friends I haven't seen in at least a year and catch up.
4. That most of these friends are those you can just pick up with anytime, without having to actually live life together.
5. That I have a community of friends here, American, Brazilian, and other (Swedish), who live life with me.
6. That I was able to spend Thanksgiving day on vacation, getting my nails done, eating soup & ice cream by the kilogram, and dancing forró with my friend and her family.
7. The beautiful weather we are having -- it's 80-85 degrees here.
8. That I will see my family in a little under 3 weeks.

On reading, and rain

So it's raining. Buckets. With no hope of stopping anytime soon. Usually, that's the kind of weather that makes me want to curl up and read a good book. As the rain beating against my windows made me seize up in a fit of boredom today, I decided to head to the mall. I have been trying to hold out as long as I could, but it was just calling to me, from 1/2 mile away. The Holy Grail of my book collection (at least for now), the one precious thing that will complete my collection: Harry Potter e as Relíquias da Morte. Ahh, doesn't that just roll off the tongue so well? You guessed it, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows has finally come out in Portuguese. And so my bilingual set is complete. Maybe one of these days I'll add a third language, but I'm happy, for now.

On lists (really this time)

I am obsessed with lists. If I have a piece of paper and a pen, I scratch out those to-do's or that grocery list with heated fervor. I love making little check marks beside all the items, and I feel such a sense of power and exhilaration when everything is checked off. The problem is that after I am finished making the list, I can't always remember where I put it. Or what was on it in the first place.
I think that lists make me feel somewhat organized, though they are a reflection of what is going on inside my brain: a clutter of ideas and thoughts that refuse to stay in any kind of order. I always say, "I know there's something I forgot, but I cannot (for the life of me) remember what it is." Invariably, I remember whatever it was 2 days later, when the list is either lost or completed, or the deadline has passed.
And what's more? If I write something down and lose the list, my brain knows that I have it documented somewhere and feels free to chunk that particular piece of information into the recesses of my memory, in a place where only heavy psychoanalysis can reach. And I'm not going to see a shrink to figure out what I should have bought for dinner last night. Kind of ridiculous, huh? Maybe, just maybe, I should make a list of everything that I worry about (believe me, it's a lot) and throw it away. That's been on my to-do list for awhile....

On being naked and unashamed, or not

I was writing in my journal this evening and God was gracious to bring to mind the following as I was asking Him to strip away the layers of "clothing" that I have put on to cover my nakedness and shame that comes from my sin.
In Genesis 3, verses 7 and 21, we see the difference in the two different types of clothing -- man-made and from God. Man-made clothing is flimsy and at best inadequate to cover whatever we want to cover. I think of the scene in Dead Poets Society where Todd (Ethan Hawke) is in front of the classroom talking about truth. "Mumbling truth... Truth's like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold... Y-You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it will never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will cover just your head as you wail and cry and scream!" Adam and Eve tried to cover their shame and nakedness with fig leaves, but that wasn't enough. Their own efforts were futile and God graciously responded by giving them clothes of His making. Of animal skins. The text doesn't specifically say, but I imagine that He would have provided the animal skins because He determined before the beginning of the world that there must be shedding of blood to atone for sin (before this, there is no mention of any animals being killed, and God didn't tell humans they could eat meat until Genesis 9). It is a theme that runs throughout the Bible, from the Old Testament Law to its culmination in Jesus Christ, who was slain to take away the sin of the world. He is our "clothing." He works in us and on us and through us to be able to present us to Himself as holy and blameless, without spot or blemish (read: naked, unashamed, and without sin) when we stand before Him. All we have to do is accept the gift that He gives.

On writing, or not

Some people tell me I'm a good writer. I don't know about that, but I do know that I like to write. I find it easier to say on paper what I could never say out loud. I am uncomfortable with very much emotion in my conversations; I am a logical person and prefer to logically work things out. When emotion enters in, I get flustered and don't really know what to do. Writing opens up my world to so much more. I share doubts and fears and inadequacies like they are going out of style, and I can slowly open up those parts of myself that I am terrified for anyone else to see.
On the other hand, if I know others are going to read what I write, I temper it down so as not to bare my soul quite so much. I am scared of what people will see, and what people will think. Enter the blog. Not even half of what's on my mind gets typed onto my computer screen (all those Law & Order episodes where they search computers and know every keystroke you've made still kind of creeps me out). Some things don't make it into my journal, because they are written and could be read by anyone. Sometimes I wish I were more open and willing to talk, even to those who know me. I am an excellent builder, but not necessarily the best engineer or architect. I am very good at putting up walls, but not necessarily between me and the right people, and not necessarily in the right areas. I end up hurting a lot more than I am comfortable with (okay, so who is really comfortable hurting?), and some days I wonder if a lot of it isn't self-inflicted.
God and I have been having lots of chats lately about being naked and unashamed, like Adam and Eve were before the fall. Naked and unashamed is scary. Naked and unashamed invites either care or hurt. I don't know the percentages, but to me it seems like it is much more conducive to hurt -- in a "stand before me with all your flaws exposed and I will pronounce judgement on you" sort of way. At this point in my life, unfortunately, it seems as such with God as well. I have been like David a lot lately, expressing my anger and bitterness at God, while knowing all the while deep down in my heart that He is sovereign, that He is good, and that He wants me to walk in obedience, freedom, and fullness. Some days are hard. This is one of them.

They're here!

Okay, so they've been here for a month, but it's been fun passing them on the street. Every time I find a new one I'm excited. I know that people who don't live here wouldn't necessarily appreciate them, because they are definitely made by Brazilian artists and have everything to do with the culture of Rio. The CowParade is fun!

Flashback

I was at some friends' house today getting music from them and was taken back to my childhood. They, being close to my age, have lots of 80's and 90's music. I saw some Van Halen on there, and it took me back to junior high, listening to "Right Now" and drinking Clear Pepsi (marketed as Crystal Pepsi). After a search on
Wikipedia, I discovered that the two were paired for an ad campaign which premiered at Super Bowl XXVII.
Ah, the lost days of my youth....

I want to....

-read all the Pulitzer prize-winning novels
-drink more water
-eat more fresh foods, including fruit and vegetables
-exercise regularly
-go back to Italy (more than once)
-go to the Bahamas
-hike the Appalachian Trail (yes, the whole thing)
-visit Napa Valley
-finish my list of books to read (which grows considerably longer daily, mostly in Portuguese)
-read through the Bible
-branch out more in the kitchen
-discover God daily
-learn to speak Italian
-write a book
-get on a reasonable sleep cycle
-practice self-discipline
-own and decorate my own house
-make culture
-get married

Thanks to the fun folks at 43 Things for the idea. Love to know what you want to do!

Update

Hello once again from sunny Rio!
We have had a busy couple of months, and I am glad to be at the end of the year, so that I might rest just a little bit before we start back up again next year. I am still trying to process the last few weeks, and so this update is going to be short.
Since I wrote my last update, we have had 4 medical teams with one week of rest in the middle. The two clinics we had in new areas were amazing. The pastors were overwhelmed with our work and excited about the work to be done when we were finished. The week of rest was much needed, and the past two weeks have been kind of a blur. One of the weeks we had 3 pharmacists, so I got to translate in triage for a nurse. I really enjoyed it and got to challenge a woman who was constantly anxious and really didn’t see the point in dumping all her problems on God. I shared with her about Adam and Eve and how they disobeyed God, causing separation from Him and death. Fast forward to Jesus, and I told her how God solved that problem of separation by sending Jesus to die on the cross for our sins and disobedience to God. I also challenged her with the Bible’s words in 1 Peter 5:7, to cast our cares upon God, for He cares for us. She just couldn’t understand why her problems would be important to God. Please pray for her (her name is Norma) and people like her, that they would understand that God created each one of us and wants us to have a restored relationship with Him.
The final team was from Brookwood Baptist in Birmingham, which is my home church. I was so thankful to have my spiritual family here for the last week, that we could encourage one another. The area that we have been in over the past few years has been plagued by competing drug factions, and members of the team had been praying since they were here last year. This year when we went to the church on Sunday, there was a peace resting on the community. It turns out that two of the factions had united and the other one was gone. The peace was evident in the faces and attitudes of the patients and church members, and they very quickly acknowledged the fact that prayer was a very important catalyst in the coming of that peace, both on the part of the Americans and Brazilians.
One of the verses that God has used to encourage me over the last month is Romans 8:29 – “For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren.” Even with all of my shortcomings and failures (and triumphs and strengths), my life will be spent with God conforming me to the image of Jesus Christ, for I am one of the adopted children in His family. Though I am not perfect, there will be a day when I am perfect (though it may not happen in this life), for God’s purpose is to conform me to the image of His Son. I praise Him that He has purpose for us, that we are not just swept up in the current of Christianity and drift willy-nilly to the end of our lives. I praise Him that He has plans for us, and that He uses all things for our growth and His glory.
Please continue to pray for:
S, who will be having surgery at 7:00 am Central Time on Wednesday, October 31.
Our team, that we may take advantage of this time to rest and renew our minds and bodies.
Our team, as we prepare for this next year, that we may be focused on the Lord and what He would have us do.
My visa, as I still have not heard anything about its renewal.
Thank you as always for your support and prayers.
For He alone is worthy.

Vacation -- the end

After our ride was over, we went into São João del Rei and shopped. Great, huh? S and I bought some pewter and furniture -- both were really inexpensive!
We stayed the night at a wonderful pousada and trucked on back to Rio the following day. All in all, our vacation was amazing and I would do it again in a heartbeat!

More vacation (or vacation, day 3)

The following day we rode some more (surprise) and stopped for lunch at a place where we were provided with hammocks to rest afterwards. All I can say is wow. We moved on and during the ride into town that evening, we passed through the farm where the Brazilian Manga-larga (the breed of horse we were riding -- pretty similar to a quarter horse) is bred. When we got into town, 3 of our party were way ahead of me, and 2 were way behind. I had no idea where I was going; I just knew that the pousada was in town somewhere. Thank goodness we were in the middle of nowhere, right? There can't be that many pousadas around. When I got to the town square, I stopped to ask directions (without the help of knowing the name of the place where we were going). Here is the exchange:

Me: "Excuse me, have you seen some horses passing by here?"

Them (people sitting on the bench in the square): "Yes."

Me: "Can you tell me which way they went?"

Them: "Sure, they went on straight." (not really helpful, since I still didn't know where the pousada was, but I went on and just kept looking for horses)

Let me tell you, that is one of the greatest and most frustrating things about Brazilian culture. The exchange was much more than I can even describe, but I love the fact that I can stop a random person on the street and ask a question to kill my curiosity (or even ask directions) and I hate the fact that Brazilians will only tell you exactly what you ask for. Unless they are in a mood to tell their own entire life story.

The first picture is of me in the hammock after lunch, the second is of the kitchen of the pousada, and the third is of the family still. Minas Gerais grows a lot of sugarcane and makes a lot of cachaça (a distilled liquor made from sugarcane) -- the family that owns the pousada we stayed in also owns this still and manufactures and sells cahcaça.

Vacation, day 2

Upon awakening at the pousada (quiet except for the birds chattering and the owner talking incessantly), we had a wonderful breakfast spread, complete with homemade cheese, fresh fruit, fresh juice, fresh bread, and coffee -- the staple of any Brazilian breakfast. Alex and Mariana brought the horses to us, and we got going about 9:30. We rode for about 3 hours, during which time Amy's horse sat down in the middle of the trail (with her on top of it), we stopped to drink out of a freshwater spring, and a jet flew right over our heads. Being from Rio, the sudden loudness was a bit frightening. We stopped to eat and rode into Prados, where all 4 of us bought boots (like it was going to make us better riders). Then we rode for 3 or so more hours until we got to the farmhouse where we would be staying.
The farmhouse belongs to a family who still raises cows and does farm-y things. Upon our arrival, the woman of the house showed us all to our rooms (Amy and I were in a room with Santo Expedito, the patron saint of urgent causes). She proceeded to tell us that the bathroom was kind of far away, so if we'd like to use the chamber pot under the bed in the middle of the night, we could. It was like stepping back in time. Here are a few photos of the horses and the farmhouse.

Seriously, vacation

I know that vacation posts need to be written and posted, so here goes my first attempt at just a little taste of Minas Gerais.
We left Rio Sunday morning about 10, and darned if I didn't almost get carsick on the way there. Great start, huh? It's just that our driver was driving fast (by Brazilian standards) and the road was really curvy. Thanks to all the engineers or whatever who designed those roads.
We stopped for lunch at Tiradentes, a quaint little town that was home to a strong abolitionist movement in Brasil. Then we headed on to São João del Rei, about 10 minutes down the road, where we parked the car and the jeep picked us up. Mariana took us to our pousada (bed-and-breakfast) and we settled in for the night. Here are a few pics of the pousada -- beautiful!

The water wheel and our cabin
Me on the bed in our room

Our vacation was a hit. I am sad to be back to reality. I'm going to try and post a few pics and stories over the next few days -- I am still exhausted and am having trouble putting words to all of it. So, you'll just have to wait.

Fall fun

I wish I were in the US, just to go to one of these.

Overwhelmed

and in need of a vacation.
And that's what I'm doing next week. We are going to Minas Gerais (a neighboring state) to travel along the Estrada Real, the road that the Portuguese used to transport the gold that they mined (in Minas) to the coastal city of Paraty (in Rio). We will be traveling on horseback, for 3 days, and staying in old farmhouses along the way. I am so ready for some time of rest, relaxation, and a clear head.

I am....

I am Charlotte Simmons. Or was, what seems like a long time ago. I just finished re-reading the book (in Portuguese), and I felt like I was watching a B-grade horror film. I just wanted to yell, "Don't go in there!", or more appropriately, "Stop right there! That's a stupid idea!" I am 10 years away (on this side) of my freshman year of college, and I think about how little I knew then. I think about how much I know now, which I realize every day is not much.
The best (and worst) part of this book: I know (or knew) these people. As I read the characters, I am swept up into memories of my own college experience, both the good and the bad.
Interestingly enough, God has given me a passion to share my life with younger women, as He instructs in Titus. I may not be much older, and I may not have much more experience, but what I do have, I want to share, that women may not make the same mistakes I have, that they may be spared unnecessary pain, that they may be encouraged. My favorite? You guessed it, college age women. I remember that as such a formational time in my own life, as have been the last 5 years. I have no doubt that the next 50 will be just as formational, and that I will continue to share whatever comes my way.

I was looking out the window and contemplating the beautiful beach this morning, until I looked down at the sidewalk and realized that someone had TP'd the tree in front of our hotel.

I got this e-mail today from my sister:
"I cleaned out my medicine bag yesterday...threw away a lot of expired pills...I knew you would be proud...hope you are well. "
I am so proud I can't even stand it. And I love my sister.

Update

Hi from sunny Rio!
God has been doing some amazing things down here, and I am excited to share a couple with you.
During the week of August 18-25 (A’s parents brought a team), the owner of the building (who is a Christian) that the church rents came in to see how the clinic works and was quite impressed with the setup and the care that was being given. As most of you know, a patient can come in, be treated, and get medicine or glasses all within a couple of hours, while still being treated as an individual, by someone who listens to them as a person and not as just one more unit in the mass of people coming through the clinic (which is often the case in public health care here). The church’s lease on the building was to end the Monday after the clinic, and the owner of the building sat down with the church leadership and is going to let them use the building for the next five years RENT FREE. That is a huge blessing to this (or any) church, because it frees up rent money to do other things, to tell more people about Jesus, and even to save it to buy the building eventually.
It’s exciting to see the plans that God has actually unfolding; He is so gracious to let us see a little of the blessings that He has for us!
The clinic we just had was in a new area, and the church is taking a mission trip next month to a neighboring state. They have 136 members and 50 of them are going! Praise God for calling out His own, and for their obedience to go preach the gospel.
This week we have a WMU team (funny; it’s 6 women and 8 men). Part of the group is going to build a playground at CIEM, which is the mission school, for kids of visiting missionaries. The other part is going to help one of the pastors at one of our recent churches, doing evangelism and follow-up. After that, the teams are as follows (until the end of the year):
Sept. 22-29 – medical clinic, Mangueira (one of the discipleship groups from this church has been praying one hour a day for the clinic!)
Sept. 29-Oct. 6 – medical clinic, Vila Kennedy
Oct. 6-13 – a week of rest (and a nice 3-day horseback ride in a neighboring state)
Oct. 13-20 – medical clinic, Parque das Missões
Oct. 20-26 – medical clinic, Pão e Palavra
After that, S and R will head to the US for her surgery, the TN Baptist Convention, and a little rest and time with family. I will be here probably until the middle of December (I don’t have the date nailed down yet) and spend a month in the US with my family for Christmas. I will return in January to finish out my term (which I have extended until the end of 2008) and get ready for next year.
Prayer requests:
* Continue to pray for the people of Brazil, that they would continue to be receptive to Truth and the good news of Jesus.
* Continue to pray for S and her upcoming surgery.
* Continue to pray for my visa, that God would move the hearts and hands of those in authority, and that it would be granted before December. Pray for me in the process, that I would rest in Him and not be anxious about it (I am still nervous about anything having to do with my visa).
* Pray for our teams coming in, that God would prepare their hearts to share the words that He would have them share.
Thanks as always for your prayers!
For He alone is worthy.

I must say that I am excited. I saw a sign the other day announcing the release of the 7th Harry Potter in Portuguese. November 10th will be a very happy day.

How sweet....

I've been meaning to post about this for a couple of weeks but have been pretty lazy in my posting. David left 2 weeks ago to go back home after 2 1/2 wonderful months here. The following Wednesday afternoon, there was a knock on my door (actually, they buzzed the buzzer). Who should be standing there but a man with a dozen roses from David.
The roses came from the flower shop down the street. He ordered them on the day he left to be delivered on Wednesday. Do I have a great boyfriend or what?

Why, when I start getting better, do other parts of me start to fall apart? I am currently on antibiotics, trying to get rid of an infection, and my throat hurts. And my ear. Maybe it's because I'm tired -- people make me tired sometimes, and we work with volunteers. I know, I know. I do love it, though it's a strain for my personality some days. I know I need rest, but the problem is that I just can't bring myself to go to bed before 10:00, no matter how tired I am (or no matter how much I need rest). Not that I'm doing anything of value to avoid resting, though I am looking forward to a night of reading and hopefully making a bigger dent in some of the books I'm working on.
Addendum: It is not even 8:30 yet, and I have taken 2 Benadryl 25mg tablets. I did manage to learn something in pharmacy school, like the fact that these little hot-pink tablets will melt in my stomach and eventually make me very, very sleepy.... The reading is coming along splendidly, and going to bed is looking more and more appealing.

Update

Hello friends and prayer partners!
I know it’s been awhile since I’ve written an update, but I’ll be short, I promise. Or at least as short as I can be.
Last time you heard from me (related to ministry), we were in the middle of June in a medical team. Since then, it’s been a blur. We have had 2 more medical teams, mission meeting, a week off, the Pan American games for 2 weeks, and we have just finished our third medical clinic since then! AND I have turned in my papers for visa renewal, which should be ready in 3-4 months. Thank you for your prayers about all these things, even when you didn’t know exactly what you were praying for. God knew, and He honored your prayers with blessings for every person we came into contact with – through the 20,000 water bottles we gave out during the Pan Am games, through medical care in the favelas, through simply getting to rest and relax for a week with fellow laborers.
The Lord has given me Jeremiah 29:7 to remind me of the fact that He has me here to seek the well-being of those who live in Rio. “Seek the welfare of the city I have deported you to. Pray to the Lord on its behalf, for when it has prosperity, you will prosper.”
I still find it hard to express some days how amazed I am that God would orchestrate circumstances to allow me to be here, in a job that fits my skills and strengths, and challenges me to grow in my weaknesses. But on the other hand, this is what He has called me to right now, and so this is what I do. It’s funny to me how awesome and how normal it can be all at the same time. But I think that’s part of how God works. He calls us to glorify Him in whatever situation we find ourselves, whether we are “official” missionaries overseas, or at home raising children, or working outside the home in any setting. Ministry is where you are, and glorifying God is as connected to that as breathing is to life.
Prayer requests:
Continue to pray for S (my supervisor) and her family, that they will be given rest and peace in Him regarding her upcoming surgery (thyroid surgery in October).
Pray for our team and the teams coming in over the next couple of weeks. My roommate's parents and their team come in Saturday morning (August 18) and will be doing a medical clinic in Jardim América, and FBC Nashville comes in next Saturday (August 25) to do a medical clinic in Vila do João.
Continue to respond to the Lord’s charge to pray for the city He has “deported” you to.
Pray that we will rest well during our week off (September 1-7), so that we may begin again and continue to be faithful to Him who has called us.
For He alone is worthy.

Waiting.....again

I went to the Federal Police (those are basically the immigration and ID guys here in Brasil) yesterday to turn in everything to renew my visa. After all that happened last year (at the consulate), I am suspicious of any visa process being easy. But that's exactly what happened.
I went to the despachante's office (that's the guy who runs around and knows everybody, which is a huge help in Brasil) and picked up my documents. I was a little worried that I would have to make copies of my passport and my protocolo (that's my little ID paper, since I don't have a card yet). Lo and behold, he had already made them and gotten them authenticated! Check off one thing on the to-do list. Once we got to the police, I asked like 3 times to make sure all the papers I needed were there. Sure enough, they were, so I paid my tax and came back to turn the papers in.
I walked out with a little sheet of paper giving me 6 more months to stay in the country, and a number that I can check on the internet in 90 to 120 days. THEN I can go back and get my visa stamped in my passport. THEN I can leave the country without worrying about having problems coming back. Geez.

So our bus got pulled over on Sunday. Our driver swerved to stay straight instead of turning and he got pulled over. Stuff like this always happens in my bus, because my boss always rides in the bus with the good driver. The driver was talking to the police for about 15 minutes, trying to convince them that he knew somebody that he could call to get him out of it, and borrowed my phone to call the owner of the bus company. The owner showed up out of nowhere (I think he morphs into something bat-like and skulks or flies -- take your pick -- throughout the city). The bus was liberated, but not before the other bus came back to pick the 22 of us up!
How's that for a Sunday afternoon?

"The price of freedom of religion, or of speech, or of the press, is that we must put up with a good deal of rubbish."
Robert Jackson

Symphony or Jazz?

D and I went to hear the OSB (that's Orquestra Sinfônica Brasileira, or the Brazilian Symphony Orchestra) last night. As the orchestra was playing with decided precision, I started thinking.
Symphony and jazz are very different, both with their own merits. Symphony is very orderly, the same notes are played every time the piece is played, the piece was written with a specific intent by the composer, and there is no straying from the music. Each musician knows what is coming before they even look at the notes. The director, on his little stage, with his little baton, knows exactly what he is going to hear (and if he doesn't, the next practice session may not be pleasant).
Jazz, on the other hand, while always rehearsed beforehand, never comes out the same way twice. It is improvisational at its core. It is full of unexpected riffs and grace notes that some would never dream of putting in. It is laid back -- mistakes are all part of the beautiful fabric of the piece, so go ahead! Mess up! It's not the end of the world!
God is a symphony composer who is a master at the art of jazz, I think. He has ordered so many things before the beginning of the world, and He is outside the time of this music we are playing called life. He has already written a beautiful symphony, and He knows what is going to come out every time a life is lived. But as a jazz master, He knows that things do not always go according to plan. Our lives are full of screw-ups, unexpected moments, and wonderful grace. Most of the time, I feel like I am improvising, but that I am still not very good at it.
When it comes time to choose whether I want symphony or jazz, my perfectionist nature screams "SYMPHONY!", though underneath I scream to experience jazz without stressing out (or screwing up -- ha!). I want to play that music exactly how it's "supposed to be" played, when improv is called for most days. And so my prayer is that God would keep me bumbling around and learning how to play in this life lived like a jazz piece -- not always great to the untrained ear, but perfect to the composer and musician.

A world without books

So like my friend Soj, I could (not feasibly) blame my no-blogging on hp (the wait is finally over, just later today). But I won't. This post is about something else that has been on my mind.
I act pretty frequently like I live in a country that gives me no access to books. Amazon probably thinks that, what with all the ones I've been buying lately. They're all being sent to different people to take up precious weight in their suitcases to bring to me so I can have something to read. (HP was a true emergency -- I could have very easily bought it here, but I want #7 to match the rest, which means Scholastic and not Bloomsbury, or for those of you less informed, the US over the UK version)
I am thankful that I am a citizen of a country (and to live in one, lest anyone think I don't have these opportunities outside of my own country) that has free speech. As much trash as the press publishes, I am free to choose what I read. I am free to choose things that I enjoy, and things that are edifying and uplifting, things that feed my soul.
I imagine being a believer in a country that has no access to a written Bible, that the crime of being found with a Bible is punishable upon death, and I think that I would be much more motivated to store it in my heart and mind. I must admit that that particular motivation is difficult for me -- I live in a country that is free to choose God, that is free to choose to store His Word in our hearts and minds, yet we do not. We'll get to it later. It's not pressing. If we knew that our Bibles would soon be taken from us (or our lives, for that matter), what would we do with the meantime?
I don't ask these things to scare anyone; I don't have any inside info. I just wonder, why are times of crisis filled with turning to God and times of normalcy spent procrastinating to spend time with Him later?

Someone has it out for us. Friday evening, the radar in Brasil went down and all planes were prevented from coming into the country. Our group coming in Saturday was not able to come in until Sunday morning, and our group going out Saturday was not able to go out until Sunday (even with some extra unexpected happenings, everyone got out Sunday night).
Yesterday, as we were going out to our job site, we heard a sudden "POP!", and what was it? One of the back tires on the bus shredded and burst. Thankfully, it wasn't the front tire, and the bus company was able to send another bus to come and get us. I can't wait to see what's going to happen today.

La la la la la la (I can't hear you)

So for Harry Potter fans all over the world, the final chapter has been written, published, and sold. Unfortunately, my copy has not yet come to me. It is currently in Tuscaloosa, AL (or will be before midnight tonight), and I will get it next Saturday from a volunteer coming down (props to Susanna who bought it as my birthday present).
In the meantime, I want no one telling me how good it is, or who dies -- that's as bad as the internet spoilers. I am staying away from articles about the book, and I will come out of hiding and join the discussion sometime after I have finished reading it. Until then, happy reading, and I want to know nothing!

Though we are out doing evangelism this week, we managed to find some time to get some tickets to one of the Pan Am events. We even got to see the US play, though they lost. It's kind of weird watching beach volleyball when it's freezing (relatively speaking) outside. The wind from the beach makes the temperature drop from 22C to about 17C (that's about 62F).
One thing I noticed was that most of the spectators were booing our players. Now I know that we are not always well looked-upon by the rest of the world, but I am sorry that our athletes are having to reap the consequences of things like this. Living in another country, seeing how the rest of the world sees us, makes me want to do everything I can to expand the horizons of our citizens.

The world is here!

Or at least the Americas. The Pan American games started on Thursday and there are people everywhere. I must say that it is very strange hearing so much English and Spanish, when one is used to hearing Portuguese all the time, every day (except from our volunteers).
I'll take the Portuguese, please.

Happy Birthday

to no one in particular. Or to everyone whose birthday is today.
I love the fact that when singing "Happy Birthday" in English and Portuguese, the atmosphere automatically gets louder when the language switches. You guess which is louder, and therefore, more fun.

So it's been awhile....

It's not that I have lacked things to post; I have lacked time.
We are currently at our general meeting in Atibaia (a small city outside of São Paulo) and I am trying to kick a cold. It's interesting what the body will do when it's worn out. I love being the only one here under 30 (except for the missionary kids) because I get my own room to rest and be quiet and be apart. And because I get to soak up wisdom that the older missionaries have in so many areas. And because I actually get to listen to sermons in English. So often we missionaries are feeding, feeding, feeding others simply because we are in the position of leadership. We are also sheep. It is so easy to forget that those in leadership need to hear the words of God from others just as much as others need to hear it from them.
Remember that when the opportunity comes up to give your pastor or leader a word of encouragement. They need it more than you think.

Top 10 things I love about living here, in this place, at this time

1. It's exactly where I am supposed to be. After confirmation upon confirmation, I know this in the depths of my heart.
2. Being able to get up early enough to avoid being woken up by "the praying lady" -- she prays the rosary and Ave Maria at 7:15 am. Every morning. Over a loudspeaker. She sounds a little like Charlie Brown's teachers.
3. The anticipation of volunteers (and goodies from the States!) coming every week.
4. The privilege to watch God change the lives of our volunteers through one little week out of their year.
5. A team that works well together and does its best to keep everyone un-stressed.
6. Being able to get anywhere in the city on public transportation (and knowing that I don't have to).
7. A car that screams out that it belongs to the Baptist Mission. This one actually makes me laugh every time I talk about it.
8. A culture that I am coming to love and hate and laugh at. Laugh at, mostly.
9. A small group of friends who understand my passion for this particular country and a larger group of friends who understand the urgency of missions.
10. My job. I get to do what I went to school to do, without the pressures of US-style medicine.
11. Learning daily that God is for me, and that He just wants me to be available to waste some time with Him.
12. Not knowing how to count. And not being able to contain the top 10 list to just 10 things.

Sick

Yesterday was spent in bed. I got out and moved to the couch about 2:45, only because the phone rang and I got up to answer it. I am surprised I am moving around today, but then again, I am not breaking out in cold sweat and an urge to vomit every time I stand up. Good for me.
I hate being sick. When I am in the bed, I feel like I am wasting time, because there is so much to be done. My to-do list grows if I don't stay on top of it, and I get so overwhelmed that it's not all crossed off. (On the other side of that, I am not sure what I would do if it were all to get crossed off, so I procrastinate on those last few things....)
God is good to remind me (He must be trying really hard) that it's not always about the things on my to-do list. It's not always about getting things done. Sometimes it's about seeing another's need in the midst of confusion and tending to it, even if it gets in the way of everything on your to-do list. Sometimes it's spending time just sitting with God, even if it feels like you're wasting time. Sometimes it's doing the same with friends. Sometimes it's taking a nap to recharge before you can tackle that exponentially growing list of things that have to be done yesterday. Sometimes it's being sick.

A new stamp for my collection

I received my new driver's license in the mail today (my other one was in my car....), and I noticed that there were stamps on the envelope. You may think that stamps on an envelope are normal, but around here, my letters usually get run through the machine, because my post office doesn't have stamps. I looked closer and saw the mitre on the stamp and thought, "Hey, a pope stamp." Since the current pope was just here, I thought that was a good commemoration. Upon looking more closely, I realized that it wasn't the current pope on the stamp. It was the latest dead pope.

Flexibility

We have a youth team here this week that is doing evangelism and giving Bibles out in houses. In this area, there is a grid of houses with paved roads and an area that is not yet paved. The houses in the unpaved area are mostly made of plywood and plastic sheeting. One of the women we came into contact with earlier this week lives in a house (if you can call it that) that is about 4 feet by 7 feet with a bed and a stove. The walls are not solid plywood, and the roof is leaking. She has 5 kids (under 7) with another on the way. They live by a pigpen with at least 3 HUGE sows and their piglets. The kids were crying the other day because they hadn't eaten all day.
So our purpose was to go in, do evangelism, and give out Bibles, right? Today we started building a house. For the lady that lives in the borrowed house. I started thinking about the fact that God's two greatest commandments are to love Him and love our neighbor. That is not just a warm fuzzy; it is a practical commandment. James puts it this way: "What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, 'Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,' but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead." (James 2:14-17) I love James's point here. We cannot love others without getting our hands dirty sometimes. It gives me such joy to be a part of the work we do, for it shows others how big and yet how personal God is, that He would use ordinary people to provide for the needs of those He could provide for in no time at all. While blessing the person (the family) who receives this house, I am blessed because I am being obedient to God. We do not do this because the woman asked for it, but because God touched the heart of my boss to do a little practical gospel, and because that is what God has commanded us to do. Ephesians says that He has saved us for good works (not because of them, but to do them).

I haven't written much after the trauma of being carjacked, but I am beginning to recover and have been out several times in my current car (a Ford station wagon with "BAPTIST CHURCH" written on all 4 sides and the tag number on the top). Poor car. It doesn't like cold weather, and that seems to be what we're having lately (I'm sitting here in jeans, a t-shirt, and socks with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders).
By cold, I mean under 70. Even during the day. Seeing as how we don't have carpet here, and all the houses are made of concrete, there is no insulation. SO, when it gets cold, it gets COLD. I am beginning (just a little bit) to understand why it is so dangerous for those who live on the street when it gets down to 60. Think about it: if it were 115 in the summer where you live, and the temperature dropped 50 degrees, wouldn't you be cold? Make that 90 with a drop to 40, and you've about got it.

So they found my car, and it looked pretty decent. I'm not sure I want to drive it anymore, though (apparently Honda Civics and Toyota Corollas are in high demand by the bandidos because of their massive trunk sizes). I got a call yesterday about 2:30 from my boss and got to talk to the police. Mom, sister, brother, and I went to the police station near my house to pick up the car (we had to get it before the tow truck got there). We were 5 minutes late, so they towed the car. Someone is going to have to pick it up from the depository over the mountain at some point in time. Hope it's not me.
As we were sitting at the police station, on the side of the road, my brother said "I think it's time to break out the camera." My grandmother gave them a small disposable camera for action/candid shots. Little bro was on top of the times with the witty comment.
This morning as we were leaving, our gate man told me that the police had been here yesterday looking for me. Comforting.

Coisa de filme

I would like to echo my friend Melanie's question: Where do I live?!
My boss and I were driving home from the hotel the other day where our volunteers stay, and we were uncerimoniously carjacked. Well, cerimoniously when you get right down to it. Car in front, car in back, nowhere to go, and a gun. Obviously planned.
I keep wondering how desperate these people are in the city that I live. I know they are desperate just to survive some days, but they are also desperate for Jesus and don't even know it. While I am mad about what happened, I grieve for the people who are so hardened and desperate that they must resort to violence (or near violence) to get what they want. I wonder what the guy's name was who took the car. I wonder what his story is.
I must add that no missionaries were hurt during the enactment of this story.

Coffee, anyone?

Our highly feminist group of missionaries (so named with much humor because the first book we chose to read turned out to be much more feminist and different than we originally thought) got together today and we went to Café du Lage in Parque Lage near Jardim Botánico.
About the group: we are 5 women, 4 Americans, 1 Swede, 2 married, 1 with a daughter, 1 pregnant, and 3 happily single for now (though not without prospects!). We may be as many as 7 by the end of the year, adding 1 more American and 1 Canadian.
About Parque Lage: Jenna seems to know about all these cool places in Rio (though I am not without my share of knowledge), and she suggested we go to Parque Lage. It contains a visual arts school, and the architecture (as with everything else that's old here) is beautiful. There is a pool in the middle of the courtyard that is screaming for the Department of Health to cite it as a danger because of a risk of dengue fever (I got bitten by a mosquito while we were there. Only time will tell.). In addition to the beautiful archtecture, there are student paintings, many times still in progress, around the courtyard. The cafe is quaint and the food is good (there was melted chocolate in the bottom of my mocha, and I have yet to have a better piece of spinach quiche). The conversation was even better.
My vote? I'll definitely be back soon.

Why, when we have "falta de água" (have to ration water) in my building, do I have to go to the bathroom twice as often?

Cultural ramblings

As we were talking this morning, I was painfully aware of the need to understand the culture one lives in. I say painfully because I still don't understand why someone would come to live in a different culture and not at least try to understand why where they live is how it is.
Brasil is a country of many different cultures, from the northeast to the south, from Rio to the Pantanal to the Amazon. But as different as the regional cultures are, one thing is very common: most Brasilians do not question authority, whether it be government, police, the church, or educators. What I am NOT calling for is madness or mayhem. What I would love to see is critical thinking and reasoning for one's own self. The reason I bring this up is that it presents a problem to Christians who accept everything that their pastor tells them, even if it is not true. These same pastors say that if one is questioning the work of the Holy Spirit in the pastor's life, these people are blaspheming the Holy Spirit, as if there were no room to make sure that what they are doing is from God. The Bible instructs us to test the spirits, to not accept blindly what others say. In a religious culture driven by fear, I fear that the truth of God's grace and love will make its way in too slowly to make the greatest difference possible.
But back to my original point.... I fear that we have come in without understanding that things are the way they are. Yes, they need to be changed; that is why we're here. But we can't just walk up to people and tell people they need to change their thinking. That turns one from belief in one person to belief in someone else. We have to get at the root of culture and understand why things are the way they are if there is to be any hope of spreading the gospel and teaching truth with effectiveness.

And they will know you are My disciples

I have been thinking a lot lately about how we will ever be able to draw people to Jesus. I see so much here that comes out of the Brasilian church (no matter what denomination) that makes even me, a believer and follower of Christ, disillusioned with the church. The church (throughout the world, I imagine) tells people they are going to hell because of what they do or don't do, because of whether they do bad or don't do good, when the only reason anyone will go to hell is because he still hasn't accepted the fact that Jesus is the only way to heaven. I am not going to get to heaven because I am a missionary, or because I do humanitarian work or because I am nice to people. I am going to heaven because I have accepted the death of Christ on the cross as the one thing that makes right all the good that I don't do or all the bad that I do.
I think we have to look at people not only as lost (where's the urgency if they're not?), but as people. We have to listen to their stories. We have to treat them as people. How many of you would listen to what I had to say if I came up to you telling you that you were going to hell because of (insert particular vice here)? I know that everyone has different stories, and that people need to be listened to. The hard part for me comes when someone is doing something that I know is wrong, that I want so badly to judge, and I wonder what the true story is. What in the world happened to make them make the series of decisions that led them down this road? What makes somebody choose to destroy their family? Why don't people think about the long-term effects of their decisions? Why do people take the pleasure of a moment in place of a lifetime? Those questions make me sit back and wait to decide my position until I know the whole story (and even then it's hard).
As much as I hate to confess it, showing love to these people sometimes seems unnatural and is difficult. But what am I supposed to do when that is the only way some of them will ever know who Jesus is? There is no other option, because Christ gave us the two greatest commandments (definitely summarized): love God and love your neighbor. I could be like the Pharisees and ask "Who is my neighbor?" but I prefer not to, for Jesus showed very clearly in His response to that question that the one who shows mercy and compassion is truly a neighbor. I want to show mercy and compassion, but some days I don't even know how to start.
These thoughts have been a huge reminder in my own life, because the ones that we should be closest to are sometimes the hardest to love.

So I agree with David on his comment to this previous post. Amy and I have been talking about how we wish they would make DVD's out of Brasilian novelas (which is totally not practical, since they run for 6-9 months, 6 nights a week, for an hour or so), and that we would buy the one that we really got into a couple of years ago. Turns out that I was watching a commercial for "Vale a Pena Ver de Novo" (It's worth it to see it again) the other day, and what novela were they talking about but the one Amy and I watched, Da Cor do Pecado. I watched the first episode today and am really excited to get to watch at least some of it.

Que mico que eu paguei!

Last night I went with some friends to Lapa (a part of Rio much like Bourbon Street that is packed on the weekends) to pass out tracts and talk to people about God. The night was awesome -- one friend and I stood talking to a guy for almost 2 hours because he kept asking questions!
Before we go out on the street, we have a worship service. The pastor of the church down there has known me for about the last 5 years and every time I'm down there he asks me how I'm doing and tells me how glad he is that I'm there. Last night, he decided it would be a good idea to ask me to come up and pray. In Portuguese. In front of a church full of Brasilians. I know to a lot of people that wouldn't be a big deal, but I am much better one-on-one than I am in front of a group. I'm still quite self-conscious when speaking in Portuguese, scared that I am going to make a mistake. I know that in the end God knows my heart, but I don't want to offend anyone.

Things that make me happy today

-- The fact that my friend Susanna and I are almost always going through the same things
-- Sleeping on my couch (even if it is only for 5 hours during the night)
-- Being one of 3 (yes, THREE) people to hold down a normal-sized cat during our vet clinic
-- Getting to share Brasil stories with people who have lived here
-- Knowledge that the Lord can change my attitude if I will only let Him

Things that frustrated me today

-- Not being able to talk to David for more than 2 minutes
-- Being around people who find everything to be a crisis and don't feel empowered to resolve situations
-- Feeling like my mouth doesn't work like it should when I am trying to speak Portuguese
-- Feeling like my brain doesn't work like it should when I am trying to speak Portuguese
-- People who try to make others speak English with me (for various reasons, but my guess in this particular case is a patronizing attitude) -- This didn't happen today, but it's still frustrating me. Especially since all our interpreters are great to let me struggle through my Portuguese like a little child because they want me to learn it as much as I do.

So you know you're Brazilan when.... (with selected commentary)

-You think American bathing suits are enormous. (Oh my gosh, yes!)
-You like Guarana better than Coke. (Nah, but Coca Light takes an easy first place over Diet Coke.)
-If someone tells you to be at a certain place at 1:00 pm, you don't show up until 2:30 or 3:00 p.m. (Maybe leave the house at 1:00pm)
-You know who Xuxa and Pele are. (I actually was proud of myself one time when Gilmore Girls mentioned Xuxa and I knew who she was!)
-You would rather die than see Argentina beat Brazil in soccer.
-BBQ means steak, sausage, chicken wings, pork, rice, farofa, molho and beer. (A hard choice between Brasilian and Southern!)
-You are the loudest person in the room. (That's hard to do here....)
-You travel to Brazil and instead of taking a suitcase with all your stuff, you take presents for the entire family, the dog, the neighbor, not to mention the old/used clothes that you take just in case someone needs it.
-You're so proud that you're Brazilian you tell everyone. (Does it count that I am proud to seem Brasilian?)
-You leave your house spotless when you have people coming over.
-You have a sweet ass (or you like women with them).
-You understand & speak Spanish, but when you say a word in Portuguese no one understands you. (Maybe it's just my accent.)
-You take soccer too seriously. (Or at least have memorized the game schedules so you don't have to pass by Maracanã on Sundays or Wednesdays.)
-You cried when Brazil lost the world cup. (Not too hard.)
-You know what Capoeira is.
-You know a lot about Samba and Pagode. (Aw, samba isn't hard to dance.)
-You eat rice and beans at least 7 days a week.
-Your breakfast consists of milk and coffee, bread with butter and a piece of cake.
-Everyone thinks you're everything but Brazilian. (French, German, American)
-You know who Os Trapalhoes, Turma da Monica, Zico, Caetano Veloso, Tom Jobim, Elis Regina, Ronaldinho, Jo Soares, Cazuza, Gilberto Gil, Silvio Santos, Roberto Carlos, Ayrton Senna, amd Carmem Miranda are. (They forgot Vinicius de Moraes!)
You are so used to corruption that nothing surprises you anymore. (Louisiana has nothing on this country!)
-You know how to play dominoes and cards.
-You take pictures everywhere you go.
-You know how to party, and if the party isn't over after 5am...its not a party!
-Any holiday...being it official or not, is an excuse to stay home from work and take a week vacation. (And you dread the day after a holiday because traffic, for some random reason, will be worse than normal.)
-You know what feijoada and pave are. (Gross on the first, yummy on the second.)
-You spend an entire day at the beach.
-You are too friendly. (I've started telling people my whole life story.)
-You make friends everywhere you go. (Everybody has something in common with me.)
-You own havaianas in every color imaginable. (Not yet.)
-No meal is complete without rice, farofa and feijão. (WHY, when I cook, do I feel like I have to make rice and beans?)
-You'll fly Varig even if it's a little more expensive because it's Brazilian. (Hey, it's nice!)

The call of God is always to Himself, and not to a geographical location or station in life.
Let me explain....
God calling us to Himself does not mean that He will never call us to a geographical location or station in life. What it does mean is that His call is ultimately for us to be with Him, to know Him, to trust Him, no matter where we are (geographically or otherwise). Everything that He commands has the ultimate purpose to bring us to Himself, whether it is "fun" or not, whether we want to be there or not, whether we like it or not.
Hmm....
Upon re-reading, I realized that the end of this post sounds a little bitter, which is NOT how I meant it at all. I was just trying to emphasize the fact that while a great majority of life is enjoyable, there will be times when obedience takes us to places we wouldn't have chosen outside of the will of God. And then, it's the knowledge of the will of God that keeps us there, not how much we like the place.

City travel

Mia and I went to Pão de Açucar (Sugar Loaf) today and made it there very well in a taxi. Since the dollar is so crappy right now (meaning we're getting a HORRIBLE exchange rate), I didn't want to spend that much money to get home. So we asked the information guy what buses passed by there and went to a metro station. Good idea; the metro comes very close to my apartment.
The bus ride was fine, even though it was the first time I had taken that particular route and the cord that you pull to signal the driver to stop and let you off at the next stop was broken. Or he couldn't hear. I'm not sure which. We got to the metro station without any hassle and bought our tickets. I forgot one huge detail. IT WAS 5:15 WHEN WE GOT TO THE METRO STATION. Hmm. The train arrived and was already chock full (so we thought). The guy in front of us kept pushing people farther and farther into the train (thank goodness, or Mia's arm would have been cut off by the closing doors). Mia's face was in my armpit until I graciously moved it for her. Then we started laughing. The kind that doesn't stop. I am glad of many, many things today, but I will name two here: that we didn't get to laughing too hard, and that I am not claustrophobic.

Today I am amazed at the reaction to my udpate. I have gotten some return e-mails with people saying that they are asking God just as many questions as I did last year while I was waiting, and that they are ashamed to ask Him to prove Himself over and over again. I must say that I didn't expect to hear back from so many people, and I tend to forget how big my sphere of influence actually is.
I am not inclined to share my whole life story, or even small parts of it; I generally take my time in even trying to figure out what's going on with me. So I tend to overlook the fact that sharing even little bits of what I am dealing with can help others.

I have been reading some of my friends' blogs and am realizing that they have a lot more courage than I do when it comes to sharing quite personal details of my own life, which I realize is not for everyone. I also realize that most of my friends (actually, all of them) have no idea what is going through my head at any given moment. There are some lucky ones who pay enough attention to notice my facial expressions. Those say thousands of words. Mostly because I don't even have time to process it during the day. Some days I think my brain is going to explode, and some days I even wish it would, so I could start over with a clean slate.
The worries that run through my head are generally mild, and I find that if I ruminate on them I just get stressed. Talking about them is included in the stressors. However, being the problem solver that I am, I try to take on the bigger ones and fix them. The real problem comes when I start worrying about others' lives more than I worry about my own.
I have just written an update (see below) talking about trust. I must remember that.

An overdue update

Well, it’s time for another update! Maybe past time. We have been preparing for our teams coming in and are almost ready. I have been back for 6 months and am reminded every day how much I love this country. At the same time, God is continually showing me Brasilians who are passionate for their own country to know Jesus, and who are passionate for others to become true disciples, not just nominal Christians.
I had the privilege over the Easter weekend to go to Belo Horizonte for a Youth for Christ (MPC here in Brasil) music festival, which included artists who have influenced Brasilian evangelical music very much over the last 30 years. It is amazing to see that Brasilians here are making the gospel culturally relevant, writing hymns and praise songs in local music styles (including samba!), telling Bible stories even in local dialect, and being part of a movement that is passionate about reaching Brasil on Brasil’s terms, culturally speaking.
A funny note: For those of you who don’t know much about the different regions of Brasil, the southern region of Brasil has much European (LOTS of German) influence, even down to skin, hair, and eye color. Basically, there are lots of tall, very white Brasilians in the south, simply because of their ancestry. I have had more than one taxi driver here in Rio ask me if I’m German, simply because I am tall and white. So while in BH, whenever anyone would ask me where I was from, I would tell them I was from the south and living in Rio. Most people didn’t even blink an eye and asked what state I was from (Brasil has states also). I had one guy thinking for 2 whole days I was Brasilan (before I told him I wasn’t)!
I am doing well with my language but am beginning to realize that I am still thinking very much in English. That gets frustrating when I am trying to translate things in my own mind. Please pray that God would help me to start thinking in Portuguese more often, so that I can communicate even better.
I am beginning to realize that God is using my time here in Brasil as a time of restoration, primarily of my trust in Him. I know that you all know that I spent six months waiting on a visa, and I asked Him every day why I couldn’t be here. I knew that He wanted me here, but I did not walk in an attitude of trust. I must say that I have grieved that much and God has been amazingly kind to me in showing Himself trustworthy. It reminds me of the story of Thomas, standing there looking at the resurrected Christ, yet still needing to touch Him to believe. Aren’t we all like that? How many times has God proven Himself trustworthy, yet we ask for more proof? He has proven Himself time and time again, throughout history, whether He has been believed or not. May we walk with Him in trust, even if we start with baby steps.
We have a few teams coming over the next 6 weeks, and then the craziness starts! Please pray for the following teams:
Vet clinic – Clarksville – April 28-May 4 – Parque das Missões
Volleyball team – Belmont – May 15 – May 23 – various locations
Medical team – Brentwood – May 25 – June 2 – 2nd Baptist Church Vila do João
Pray that God would prepare those who we come into contact with, and that He would prepare the teams to share His good news of His love with everyone we meet.
For He alone is worthy.

Upon going up Corcovado to see the statue Cristo Redentor (vote here to make this statue one of the New 7 Wonders of the World), we sat down to have juice. All of a sudden, we had a fly-by that was a little frightening. Turns out that one of the Red Bull Air Races is to be held on Saturday, April 21 here in Rio. After the initial fright, it was kind of fun watching the stunt plane (and the helicopter following it) practice.

I finally caved

As I think people all over the US know, the MySpace craze has taken over the internet. What most Americans may not know is that the same type of craze has taken over the internet in the rest of the world. It's called Orkut. I was so proud of myself for resisting the MySpace craze for so long. I still am. But I had to wave the white flag of surrender and sign up for Orkut. Apparently Brazilians get really disappointed when you don't have Orkut -- a way for them to keep up with what you're doing and where you are. One of my friends invited me to join, and I simply succumbed to the peer pressure. On the positive side, I am excited about being able to keep in touch with friends all over this country.

My friend Ilce and I went yesterday to buy Easter eggs. I know Easter has already passed, but you know what that means: SALE! She bought 3 eggs; I bought 4. Not sure my 4th one counts, though -- it's for my little sister (because it has a very cool SpongeBob yo-yo inside). She's 25.
Here's a short list:
Prestígio: An egg from Nestle that has milk chocolate on the outside with a coconut lining (and mini candy bars inside). I bought 2 of these -- 1 broken (it's all chocolate in the end) and 1 whole.
Sonho de Valsa Branco: As you might guess, this one has white chocolate with a filling inside.
Sponge Bob: A milk chocolate egg with a really cool yo-yo inside.
I have already eaten most of the broken Prestígio. All I can say is YUM.

Rain

I am currently listening to the sound of rain out my window. Not that wimpy sprinkling rain, but the rain that soaks in the ground and refreshes everything growing in it. The kind that is good to listen to as you go to sleep. We haven't had very much rain in Rio over the past 2 months. January had about 7 sunny days (unheard of for Rio), and then summer came in full force. Until this weekend. It's finally getting cooler (which means it's 85 instead of 90) and I am so thankful. And off to bed to listen to this glorious rain.

Som do Céu

I had the chance this past weekend to go to a music festival called Som do Céu (Sound from Heaven) that was very, very cool. It included artists who have highly influenced Christian music in Brasil in the last 30 years. They have succeeded in writing songs telling about who God is that are culturally relevant and will be listened to (if not understood) by people who would never set foot in a church. They have written songs that praise God with a samba beat, bossa nova, forró (a style of music very popular in northeast Brasil), and the Brasilian equivalent to country music. It's amazing to me how much one country can be different in the culture of its regions, but that's what happens when the people take culture into their own hands. It's beautiful.
I went with some friends and made new ones from all over Brasil, and even succeeded in making some people think I was Brasilian! But then again, I do look very much like someone from south Brasil. I am finally gaining some credibility as a Brasilian, which makes me SO happy!

The state of things at home

My desk is ridiculous. I have no less than 10 books on it, along with a calendar, my computer, a bottle of water, a bottle of Coca Light (that's Diet Coke for those of you unfamiliar with the international branding), several CD's of pictures, a mug full of pens, my computer and modem, a bottle of nail polish, a wedding invitation, and a roll of duct tape. If I listed everything, this post would never end. I am wishing my camera's batteries weren't dead so I could post a picture of it. Sadly, there's no room on here to charge them.

Friends, relatives, and welcome guests

Over the next two months, I will be playing host to a number of different people. I am headed out of town this weekend for a music festival. Then, my friend Mia arrives next Thursday to stay for 2 weeks. Our first volunteer team comes 2 days after she leaves. David comes May 18th, and my mom and sister and baby brother (I am SO excited he's coming!) come the next week. The day they arrive, our first medical team comes in. And then we don't stop until the end of October. I am getting tired just thinking about it, but I am ready!

Truth in Advertising

I saw this ad on a bus stop the other day:
"Homens cuidado: sapato feio afasta mulher."
A loose translation: "Caution, men! Ugly shoes send women running in the other direction!"

Not the floor!

I went to CCBB today to see the new exposition -- "Drawing since the 15th Century" -- and it showcased drawings, etchings, woodcuts, lithographs, and silkscreens from several well-known artists.
While I was in the restroom, I noticed something. Let me start with a little cultural info. Here in Brasil it's NOT acceptable to set your purse on the floor. In Copacabana and the more touristy areas, putting your purse on the floor/ground at a restaurant means you're available and looking to get paid for the night. Besides that, I think it has something to do with how dirty the ground is here, even though the streets do get cleaned. With that said, even though the stall door may not lock or shut just right, you'll damn sure have a hook to hang your purse on!

A mix of cultures

I realized today that it's been quite awhile since I have written anything. I have been exhausted (it's been HOT here) and have had my friend Amy in town. She used to live here and we were roomies and she's back in the US. She was in town for a wedding; see if you can keep up.
Ramu is of Indian descent and lives in Atlanta. 2 years ago, he came to visit his friend (also from Atlanta) who lives here. Jeremy (the friend) met my roommate because their grandmothers know each other. She had introduced him to several of our friends from one particular church. While Ramu was here, we all got together (the 2 guys, their other friend, Amy, myself, and our friends from this church) and he met Veronica. Two months later, Ramu came back to Brasil to visit Jeremy and to surprise Veronica on her birthday. She figured out that he was really interested in pursuing her. Veronica came to the US last year and they got married in September. They came down here last week to have the "church" ceremony and to include her family in the whole mix (his family is in Atlanta). They are having an Indian-style reception (without the religious part, since Ramu and Veronica are both Christians) in Atlanta in April.
His mom, stepdad, brother, and sister-in-law (in addition to several friends) got to come down here for the wedding, and it was so much fun. His family is definitely Indian (and all are practicing Hindus), and I was thinking about how much fun God is to have contrived such a story for 2 people from 2 different countries to get together. I also thought about how wonderful it was for his family to both get to come down here and be so supportive of the wedding. You never know how 2 cultures will mix, but their families seem to get along wonderfully and Ramu's family will definitely take care of Veronica now that she is away from her own.

Mad language skills

I have been back in country for almost 5 months and I just realized something today.
Every time I meet someone new (especially a sweet little old lady), they always tell me how great my Portuguese is. Before I even say 2 words. It makes me smile.

Happy Birthday, Rio!

Today is the anniversary of the official founding of Rio de Janeiro (the city, not the state). It was founded in 1565 by Estácio de Sá (a Portuguese knight). The city's full name is São Sebastião do Rio de Janeiro, combining the name of King Sebastian (of Portugal, of course) with the name that the first settlers gave it.
Rio was the capital of Brasil from 1763 (when it was moved from Salvador) to 1960 (when it was moved to Brasília). It was also the capital of the Portuguese empire from 1808 to 1822, when the Portuguese royal family moved to Brasil to get away from Napoleon.
Many famous Brasilians are from Rio. Can you guess any?

(Thanks to wikipedia for the info)

Blast From the Past

I went on a retreat during Carnival, and we had a "noite infantil", or kids' night. We (as in all the folks on the retreat, ranging from 17 to 35 years of age) had to come up with a costume of a cartoon that ran when we were little.

I had an excellent time and went as Betty Rubble, from the Flintstones. It was quite an easy costume to make (I bought a double sheet and cut it out), and the series ran here in Brasil, so the Brasilians knew who I was. The myriad of costumes consisted in Punky Brewster (Punky Baker here), Fred, Wilma, Pebbles, Chapolin, Chiquinha, a smurf, the Incredible Hulk (green body paint and all), Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan & Tinkerbell, well, you get the point.

Sunset Beauty

I went to see the sunset last night at Arpoador (the rock between Copacabana and Ipanema) with a friend of mine. It set behind Vidigal and Dois Irmãos. To say the very least, it was breathtaking. I have never been to a place where people applaud the sunset, but here they do (at least at Arpoador). It struck me that many of them may not even know Whom they are applauding.

Update

This last month has been a good one. We have been visiting churches and have found them all for our teams this year. We know where all the medical teams are going (unless something changes, which may happen, but we hope not). We currently have 23 teams signed up to come this year, spread over 26 weeks. We have 1 week off the in the middle of the summer and 1 week that we are going to AGM (which is still called Mission Meeting here). We have some time off from teams in May as well; our teams don't stop from the end of May to the end of October (with those 2 weeks off I mentioned).
We have a volunteer in this week, Stephanie, who is teaching some of our interpreters English. If you've met any of them, you know that they already speak very good English. So what are they learning? The more complicated nuances of English that we never think about, like phrasal verbs (put up, put on, check out, take up, give back, etc.). I am teaching another group of about 5 people who don't know tons of English but really want to learn. They're beginners in English, so I am giving the class in Portuguese. Let me tell you that I never thought I'd be doing that! It's been really good for my Portuguese, though it makes my brain tired.
Carnaval starts (officially) on Saturday, though the parties have already begun. Carnaval is, unfortunately, the only thing many people think of when they think of Brazil. It is a time of revelry and general partying (along with the parades) before Lent starts on Ash Wednesday. Many churches here take retreats away from the city of Rio during Carnaval.
Between now and the end of April, we will be getting ready for our teams to start – visiting/revisiting churches, organizing medicines, unwrapping Bibles, cutting senhas (tickets to enter the clinic), etc. I'm sure there is much more to be done.
Next month, we have tentatively planned another all-Brazilian clinic (we had one last month as well), which I am looking forward to.
Continue to pray for us as we prepare for our teams – for all of the planning that has to be done (still), for the churches we will be working in, for the areas we will be working in, the teams that are coming, and the people we will meet. We couldn't do anything without your prayers!
For He alone is worthy.

There's a novela here whose characters insert English words in the middle of their conversations. The words are being used correctly (thank goodness), but I must say it's weird to hear "hunny" and "no stress" in the midst of Portuguese.

A little drama, anyone?

Okay, so I think I am destined to have dramatic Valentine's Days. Not the good kind. Here is a run down of the dramatic ones I have had:
One year I was in the ER with a migraine.
One year I locked myself out of my house.
Today was equally dramatic, though the drama has been resolved. Any guesses on what will come next year?
Anyone else got any V-Day drama? Bring it on!!

Pictures of home

I have been here for 4 months and have just realized that I haven't put any pictures of my apartment or the area surrounding it up for anyone to see! So, here goes:

The pic on the left is of the outside door of my building. It feels a little like a dorm. The box to the right of the door is what people have to buzz to be let in if they don't have a key. I am safe. Yay! The pic on the right is the outside of my side of the building.

I love the surroundings I am in; they seem like the jungle in the midst of the city. As it happens, Rio is home to the world's largest urban forest, which I happen to live in the middle of (or actually on the edge of, but living in the middle of the woods sounds more exciting). Every once in a while I will see monkeys running around in the tops of the trees. I truly live in the midst of paradise.

Flower Power

So this is what we did yesterday afternoon. My boss went to the CADEG (again, the long drawn-out translation) and bought about 8 dozen roses. We made 3 flower arrangements like this one (mine has 3 dozen roses in it) for less than 40 bucks (yes, that's US dollars, and that's total, not each)! And, since I love fresh flowers, I have found yet another reason to love this country.

Finally

A day at the beach. I mean, an hour at the beach. It's been raining so much here since the beginning of the year. Between that and running around trying to get things prepared for our volunteers (which of course was all done on the sunny days), there hasn't been much beach-friendly time. Today finally worked out.

BAD fashion news

I'm sad to say it, but pantsuits are back. Not the great-looking two-piece suits. The onesies. For ADULTS (well, for women). Without straps, most of the time. They are all over the stores here. I thought about getting one, but I am not sure I want to become that Brasilian.

Small but wise

"Four things on earth are small, yet they are extremely wise: Ants are creatures of little strength, yet they store up their food in the summer...." (Proverbs 30:24-25)
As I walk around the school where I live, I am always absolutely amazed when I look down at the ground. I can see leaves and flower petals seemingly moving themselves along the ground. Yup, you guessed it. It's the ants. Carrying things that are 10 times their size. They work to build their homes, they work to bring their food home, yet they are so small. God made them a mighty example to us to be diligent, doing one thing at a time.
I think that our culture has been seduced by quick fixes and instant results. We must remember that even though God put His plans in motion from the beginning, they are still not done. How many years has that taken? And He's God! Why do we, who are not God, think we can get things done faster than the One who has chosen to spread the fulfillment of His plans throughout human history?
I tend to get overwhelmed at not seeing what we would call "results" of the workings of God in my own life. But then I remember the ants. They carry one leaf or petal at a time, seeming futile, but full of purpose.

Train ride

I went with my language tutor today on a train trip. We are trying to take advantage of every type of public transportation here in Rio. There are several types of trains, from the old ones with wooden benches down the sides and lots of handles hanging from the ceiling to the new "chique" (fancy) ones with cushions on the seats and an outer appearance like that of the Disney World monorail. It's really not that different from the metro (subway), because the train here is used as more of a commuter train than an actual "trip" train.
There are people who walk up and down the train selling drinks and candy, and people who sell newspapers ("to pass the time on your journey").
We went all the way out to Santa Cruz, the last stop on the train. We started at Central do Brasil, one of the most famous train stations in Brasil and the subject of a 1998 movie (Central Station, in English -- watch it to get a little touch of Brazilian culture. See info about the movie at IMDb.com). The train station is just like any train station in Europe, filled with newsstands and little food stands to buy pasteis (pastries). People are everywhere, hustling and bustling through the station on their way to bigger and better things.

Exciting news....

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows set to be released 21 July 2007. Thanks to Team Redd for the info.

One of the things I love about Brasil is its seemingly endless supply of fruit. We got up early this morning and went to the CADEG (I found out what it stands for but it's a really long, boring name to translate so I'll spare you). I bought strawberries and peaches. Being a Georgia girl myself, I couldn't pass the peaches without at least trying one. And let me tell you, it tasted just like a peach should taste.
I also tried a type of fruit I've never heard of before, called sapoti. It was kind of a cross between an apple and a pear with a strange taste (my co-workers said it was like a fig; I'll have to take their word for it).
Pineapple I might have bought; however, it is a pain to cut up. People actually use the word for pineapple when they are talking about a situation that isn't going to be worth it in the long run to get into (because the work is going to be much more than the outcome).

I can't seem to get my mind set to get anything done that I feel needs to be done -- diligent language study, diligent prayer and reading. I can accomplish things very well while I am moving, but when I stop is when I feel useless. I can always find something that needs to be done. Take today, for example. I need to go get a key made and call people and wash my strawberries and sweep the floor and make up my bed and wash dishes. But here I am in front of my computer, trying (and failing, I might add) not to be distracted while I write.

Preparing for a miracle

My friend JAX sent me a wonderful recipe for hummus yesterday. This weekend, I found a place to buy garbanzo beans (chickpeas) and sesame seeds and I tried to make some hummus. It turned out okay -- passable, edible, but not great. Here was the problem: most recipes that I've seen call for a 400-gram can of chickpeas (cooked). I BOUGHT 500 GRAMS OF DRY BEANS. Needless to say, they expanded very much when I soaked and cooked them. So, I ended up multiplying my intended amount of hummus and have tons left over.
Also, I saw a 500-gram can of tahini paste in the grocery store (that's 1 pound, folks!). WHO IN THE WORLD is going to use a pound of tahini paste? I didn't check to see how long it lasts once the can is opened. It was R$15 (about U$7). Next time I make hummus it just might be worth it.

Cultural Girl

Since I'm here on a cultural visa (they wouldn't give me a work visa, which doesn't bother me in the least, because I don't plan to get a paying job here), my friend and I have been taking advantage of all the cultural things here in Rio. One of them is the Centro Cultural do Banco do Brasil (Cultural Center of the Bank of Brasil). They are currently having an exhibition of several artists from Minas Gerais, but specifically, Antônio Francisco Lisboa, better known as Aleijadinho. One of his best-known series is "Os Doze Profetas" (The 12 Prophets) which are on the exterior of Santuário Senhor Bom Jesus de Matosinhos, Congonhas do Campo, Minas Gerais. There were 16 prophets (not counting Baruch in the Catholic Canon) and only 12 places on the church to put them. Our guide told us that Aleijadinho chose the 12 he thought were the nicest. That struck me as funny, because none of the prophets brought great news. But I learned a lot more than that, like the fact that 50% of the gold ever mined in the world came from the state of Minas Gerais here in Brasil. And Brasil lost its gold (which was, in that time, Portugal's gold, since Brazil was a lowly colony in the 18th century) to England. If there ever was a paradise that was stripped, it is this one.

I'm in heaven. I have 2 new websites to surf with mounds and mounds of uncharted material.
They are (drum roll). . .Public Domain of Brasilian works (provided by the Brasilian government and in Portuguese only) and The Gutenberg Project. Books and more books. Heaven, I tell you.

Why is it

that all the drunk guys in movies fall into the nearest horse trough?

Back to work (sort of)

We're having a clinic today and tomorrow with 2 Brazilian doctors. Today ran pretty smoothly, considering that we're working in the pharmacy out of footlockers and the balcony of the church is the pharmacy! Tomorrow there will certainly be more people in line to be seen, but compared to our teams that start in May (with 5 or more doctors), this is cake!
Tomorrow should give us a lot more chance for evangelism, too -- we'll have a few more of our team here so we can spread out a little bit more. I must say, this pace is quite good, though I am tired.

Marshmallowy goodness

I decided to have hot chocolate this morning, since it's 20 degrees (heh. Celsius for all you metric people, 70 degrees Fahrenheit for all you Americans) outside. We're having a very unusual summer. Usually it's at least 80 at night and at least 100-110 during the day this time of year. By the way, when you're used to 110 degrees, 70 really is cold! Anyway, as I was waiting patiently for it to cool (why does that take FOREVER?!), I had a striking thought. I HAVE MARSHMALLOWS IN MY APARTMENT. My friend Amy sent them to me to make s'mores in my oven (along with the graham crackers and Hershey bars, but that's not important right now). And so, I am experiencing the wonderful winter treat of hot chocolate with marshmallows. In the middle of summer.

Strange sounds on the bus

So this isn't a personal story, but I thought it was funny. A friend of mine was riding with an American (who didn't speak any Portuguese) on one of the public buses. Every time they stopped, there was a small explosion of hissing. The American asked, "Why is it that every time the bus stops we hear all this 'sss...sss...sss'?"
I laughed when I found out that it was a sound that I hear all the time but don't pay that much attention to: people saying "Com licença" (which means "excuse me") when they were making their way to the back of the bus to get off. Brazilans don't say very many full words; they tend to cut a lot of letters off, which makes listening a chore some days. What this American was hearing was "cença" (pronounced sen-suh), but her ears weren't picking up the vowels, just the s-sounds, much like what we hear when someone is whispering.