Versatility

We went out last night to Rio Scenarium, a "cultural pavilion" in Rio's old downtown area. They have live bands that play samba and bossa nova, and everyone dances. It's a place full of people, Brazilians and foreigners alike. We saw one particular man whose shirt would have been very useful for a number of purposes other than a shirt.

Julie and I went back and forth, trying to one-up one another with our suggestions, and we finally got to laughing so hard we were crying. Here is what we came up with:

• curtains
• sofa
• pillows
• ironing board cover
• toaster cover
• drapes
• chair
• ottoman
• dust ruffle
• tablecloth
• chair covers
• headboard (in a hotel only)
• placemats
• seat cushions
• shower curtain
• toilet paper roll cover
• toilet seat cover (the top part, not the actual seat)

Pictures to come. Your suggestions are welcome.

Newbie

I know that Julie got here a few days ago, but I'm just now getting around to posting this funny story that happened to her in the grocery store on Wednesday.

I was getting bread and this lady came up to her and started asking her where the crushed nuts were. Of course, she can't speak Portuguese, so I jumped in and started talking to the lady.
Me: Talk to me; she doesn't speak Portuguese.
Random lady (RL): Oh, okay. You mean she hasn't learned anything from you?
Me: Well, she just got here this morning.
RL: Oh, well she'll be speaking a lot by the time she leaves. I'm sure she'll learn.

When she walked away, I of course shared our conversation with Julie, who said, "Wow. I just got slammed for not speaking Portuguese."

The verdict is in....

Susanna has decided on her paint colors (see this previous post), and here they are:
Dining Room - Apple Green
Kitchen - Banana Peel
Living Room/Hallway - Chestnut Shell
Library - Burnt Orange Peel
Guest Bedroom - still unknown
Master Bedroom - Outdoor BBQ and Blueberry Champagne
Master Bath - Blueberry Champagne
Shutters - Blackberry Cobbler

Just a few things that have made my life exciting in the past week:

• seeing a man in overalls walking down the street (not that I haven't seen them before, but they do seem to be a little out of place here)
• the tablecloth catching fire at the Mexican restaurant on Sunday
• a man walking down the street with a guitar around his neck (no case) talking on a cell phone
• the group of boy scouts (or the Brasilian equivalent) on our metro car
• 2 pair of shoes
• a used-book store
• chocolate mousse
• anticipating Julie's arrival tomorrow

God is bigger

I have been struggling a lot lately, not knowing how to put my struggles into words. The struggle started a couple of years ago, and an excerpt from this post at internetmonk.com speaks for me. It's worth taking a look at.

A significant place in the life of faith in God is coming to the place of abandoning any sense of control, outcome or insured result. Why is that so significant? Because for many of us, in some measure and in various ways, we believe that God’s promises in scripture add up to God guaranteeing the GOOD outcomes that will honor him.

In other words, God will guarantee that the marriage will work, that the ministry will work, that the finances will arrive, that the health will recover, that the children will become Christians and that this life of faith will turn out to be “blessed by God.”

I was hitting the wall, over and over and over, because I realized this wasn’t happening, hadn’t happened and wasn’t going to happen. I’d been living an illusion. I’d gotten very good at it, and now someone- that same God?- was tearing that illusion away from me.

The God I’d believed in before wasn’t there. To the extent that he was the God who guaranteed outcomes, then God wasn’t there at all. The God who was there wasn’t playing according to my rules or to the rules I’d been promoting for three decades.

I am beginning to realize that not only do I like to be in control, I like to feel important. I like to know that I count, that my opinion matters. I am also beginning to realize that because of this attitude, I know a very small God. I want to know God in all His immensity, in all His glory, not as a being that I have or tame or control, but as the God who created the universe and has me as His own by right and desire. What good does it do me if I am important and I perish? By trying to be important, I set myself up above God. By doing that, I will certainly perish. One way or another, I must pass through death. Without Christ, I stay dead. With Him, I come back to life because He did. For so long, I have heard about Jesus paying the price for my sins, which is absolutely true. No one seems to talk about the possibilities of the resurrection life. But for me lately, that is the good news. Instead of the sin that still has effects in my life, and the sin that I still fall prey to some days, I have the wonderful possibility of a better life. What does not matter is whether things go "well" or not. What does not matter is that everything turns out the way I think it should. What matters is that God is revealed as He really is, not the way He appears to us.

Continental confusion

So I didn't write about this when it happened, because, well, I don't know. I guess that anyone who watches any sort of news would have heard about it. If you don't, here's the article. In summary, one of the USOC members wrote on a white board, "Welcome to the Congo" when he was down here during the Pan Am games last year. I had forgotten about it until I saw a bumper sticker tonight.

Wanna know what it says? "We love the Congo." Actually, it's we heart Congo (even better, right?). It's available in Portuguese and English, and I really want one. I am horrified that anyone (no matter what country they were from) would complain about Brazil in winter because it's hot. Not only because it's not hot (I actually get cold during the winter here), but because air conditioning is available in hotels, making it not-hot for those who are a little more sensitive to 80-degree heat.

I love this place.

My friend Susanna bought a house and I am excited to live vicariously through her decorating process. We started talking about paint colors last night and realized that all of her color choices (so far, at least) have something to do with food. Now our goal (because it's fun) is to have all of her paint colors related to food. Here's the starting list:

• Butter yellow
• Apple green
• Oyster blue
• Chocolate brown
• Marshmallow
• Mocha
• Midnight blackberry
• Geranium (I think they're edible)

Any other suggestions?

A little recycling

My friend Allison sent me this article about what's going on in São Paulo. There's apparently been a ban on outdoor media (billboards, neon signs, etc.) since the beginning of 2008. Truthfully, I had no idea, and it's certainly not going on here in Rio. We're as cluttered as ever.

I love the idea of repurposing, though I can't say I'm that creative. And what a perfect idea for São Paulo, especially since SP is quickly becoming a world name in fashion. I wish that we would get wise to the idea around here. I would love to see buildings, mountains, and sky without billboards.

Public Service Announcement

Kill mosquitoes. Use repellent (DEET, if possible). Check to make sure there is no standing water anywhere in your general vicinity. Don't take aspirin, just in case it's the bleeding kind.

Dengue fever is back with a vengeance in 2008, and I heard last night that the number of cases in the city of Rio from January 1 until yesterday IS GREATER THAN THE TOTAL NUMBER OF CASES FROM LAST YEAR. Yes, last year. And yes, 26,688 is greater than 25,107. We're not even 3 months in. 31 people have died, I personally know 2 people who have gotten sick this time around, and it's not pretty. There aren't enough doctors or hospital beds, though the government is conceding more. Compared to the enormous lines outside the hospitals, it is little. How will it help?

While dengue is equal-opportunity, health care here is not. It makes me sad and overwhelms me to think about; the least of reasons is that there are some out there who think national health care (socialized medicine, whatever you want to call it) will solve the health care crisis in the US. It doesn't work in a country the size of my home state (Great Britain is roughly the size of Georgia), it doesn't work here in Brazil, and it certainly won't work in the US. A solution has to be out there somewhere; the trick is finding it.

Som do Céu

I had the opportunity to celebrate my Easter weekend with 300 of my closest Brasilian friends (and if you're Brasilian, that's how many close friends you have) in Minas Gerais. Every year, Easter weekend (here it's a holiday weekend lasting from Thursday to Sunday), Youth for Christ (Mocidade para Cristo) in Belo Horizonte hosts a music festival. This was year number 24, and the music was, as always, of excellent quality.

Christian (Evangelical) music here in Brasil has had sort of a sordid past. Missionaries came here with their hymns and didn't bother to put them into a style that the Brasilian people would understand or enjoy. As long as they did that (and sometimes still do), evangelical music would never be Brasilian. It would always be music that the foreign missionaries brought. If we are so concerned about getting the gospel into every language, spoken or written, so that people can hear it in their own language, shouldn't we be encouraging them to write hymns and choruses that fit their culture? I don't know about you, but I quite enjoy the updated tunes of Indelible Grace. A nordestino (a Brasilian in the northeast) hearing the gospel in their own dialect and storytelling style and songs in their own cultural context is much more likely to listen to the person who is talking or singing. The people in Goiânia are likely to listen to evangelical music if it's música caipira (sort of a Brasilian style of bluegrass music). And so forth. Yet the local evangelical church for so long has snubbed culture as a means to communicate the gospel. I think we are scared that the culture will infiltrate the church. That just goes to show that we have it wrong. We, the church, should be infiltrating the culture, using what people know to share the gospel. Jesus did it. Paul did it. We should do the same.

Talk about a waste!

Advance warning and disclaimer: The author is not responsible for how much time her readers waste by clicking on the link below. She is only responsible for her own time.

The NY Times Freakonomics Blog is currently on my bad list for this post, which contains this link.

I really should be doing other things.... Any brainstorming help with the puzzle would be appreciated! (Should have been more specific to begin with, though I probably will work on a limerick to post for the contest over at Team Redd)

Today's top 10

The top 10 list is a rare occurrence on my blog. Usually because I can't think of anything that would precipitate a list of 10. So today, I'm using someone else's. I came across this top 10 from the Internet Monk. If you are a blogger and don't find his post funny, you're probably included in that list somewhere....
H/T to Google Reader (sometimes their recommendations are worth it).

Rodízio heaven

Jenna's birthday was yesterday, and she had a blow-out party at Le Brants in Flamengo. She spoke highly of it and did some good promo for them in telling us about it. It's a creperia and pizzeria. You can order pizza, crepes, and pasta, but the best deal they offer is a rodízio for R$20,90 (with the dollar the way it is these days that's about U$13) of pizza, pasta, and crepes. They also have what they call "refill" (all you can drink -- usually drinks are ordered, served, and paid for by the can or bottle) for R$6,50.

On to the dinner portion of our event (and a little bit of explanation): a rodízio is a style of serving where you don't have to get up to go to the buffet. The waiters bring it to you! So, the waiters bring around pizza and pasta. I wasn't sure how the crepe part was going to work. Turns out, you order whatever kind of crepe you want and they bring it to you -- made right when you order it! They have at least 100 different options for dinner crepes (I had one filled with chicken, corn, heart of palm, and catupiry cheese, and another filled with chicken and heart of palm). Oh -- they have quiche also. Cheese, palm heart, mushroom, codfish, etc. The best part of the evening was the dessert portion. Pizzas and crepes. Crepes are still special order. They have everything from doce de leite (my American readers are probably more familiar with the Spanish spelling, "dulce de leche") to coconut to banana, honey, and cinnamon, to NUTELLA. Have I mentioned that I love this place? Doce de leite with coconut was one of my options, and Nutella with sweetened condensed milk (Eagle Brand milk for those of you truly from the south) was the other. They almost had to roll me to the metro station.

I will definitely be going back. Here's to hoping it's sooner rather than later.

It's the most wonderful time....

Oh, wait: that's Christmas.

Easter is quickly approaching and we all know what that means -- Easter candy! I have definitely taken advantage of the great variety of Easter eggs that we have here in Brasil (for an example of what they look like, go to Nestlé and click on "Ovos Nestlé"). They are hollow chocolate eggs, usually with a coating on the inside of the egg (like the white chocolate on the inside of a Kinder Egg). They also have snack size pieces of the candy that corresponds to the flavor of the egg. I have already eaten two (one from last year -- yay for refrigerators!) and have two more. I will probably buy more before the season is over.

As much as I like the Easter candy here, nothing, and I mean nothing, beats Cadbury eggs. If you're not familiar with them, well, I pity you. (For more information on Cadbury eggs, click here.) They sell them year-round in England, and if it were an option for me to live there, I would. Just because of the eggs. And the Cadbury vending machines in the Tube stations. Being in Brasil doesn't keep me from having (at least limited) access to these wonderful treats. AB is bringing me a few next week. She is my Easter hero. Behind Jesus, that is.

This is an egg I bought a couple of weeks ago -- milk chocolate with chocolate truffle candy inside.












This is what Sharon got me for Easter. I love the mini milk can and the old advertisements!

Dream a little dream

To those who have been keeping up with my sleep (or lack thereof) saga, just thought you might want to know that I am sleeping well again. I am even dreaming. Crazy dreams (that I think are a combo of No Country for Old Men, LOST, and the John Grisham book I'm currently reading), but I am dreaming. And that means good, deep sleep.

All things new (and white)

I could turn this into a really good post about how those who believe that Jesus is the Christ are made new, and will be made white (pure, clean, etc.) through His blood. But I've made my point. So I won't.
I got a new refrigerator today, and it makes me happy. It's not actually new, as I snagged it from some missionaries that left last year (they got it new last March or so). I didn't complain much about my old one, because it's what I had and what was available. My old refrigerator was a brown monstrosity, whose handles were hanging on by their last little piece of plastic. It didn't have a crisper. No place for meat and cheese. It wasn't frost-free. Mind you, frost-free refrigerators are a fairly new thing here in Brasil.
My new refrigerator, though not as big, is white, and makes my kitchen look at least a little bigger. It has a meat drawer and a crisper. And it is frost-free. What does that mean for me? That I don't have to clean the water out of the bottom of my refrigerator (at least) once a week. That I don't have to worry nearly as much about freezer burn. That I have a place to put my vegetables and fruits (and meat and cheese). That makes me happy. Call me superficial, but it does.

No Country

Jenna and I went to see No Country for Old Men tonight, because we had heard it was playing, and that it was good. I haven't decided yet if it's going to grow on me or not. Maybe I'll know in a few weeks.
The one thing that will stand out to me over the next few days is that Javier Bardem's character (Anton Chugrin) is creepy. He is a psychopath who kills even if he doesn't have a logical reason (though the reason is logical enough to him). The hairstyle he sports doesn't help. A mustache would have put him over the top.
The Coen brothers certainly managed to keep their humor in what is a dark story. I found myself laughing at much of the dialogue. Not necessarily because it was comedic in itself, but because some of the conversations had a strange comedic value when held up alongside the violence.
Worth seeing? If you haven't, the DVD is coming out in a couple of weeks. If you don't like graphic violence, don't see it. My recommendation? I'll abstain from one either way; I'm still not sure.

Lazy days

I have had the song "Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer" in my head for quite a few weeks now, so I decided to post. Maybe that will help.
Things around here have been quite slow, and I haven't been doing much. I have managed to find things to blog about, but most of my days are spent reading. One of my current books is Ensaio Sobre a Cegueira (Blindness) by José Saramago. I'm reading it in Portuguese and it's been extremely interesting; it's unlike anything I've ever read before. The progression of events and the way that he writes them leave a lot to the imagination; not in the events themselves, but in the details surrounding them. He leaves the reader to explore the emotions and gut reactions of the characters, from the doctor and his wife (he doesn't use proper nouns) to the soldiers to the boy with the squint who doesn't know where his mother is. The primary question I continue to ask is "What would I do if I were there? How would I handle it? Would I be able to handle it?"
Saramago doesn't use quotation marks (which is common in Portuguese, but he also doesn't start a new paragraph when someone new is talking -- he only uses a capital letter to begin the next "sentence"), so the book reads a lot more like stream of consciousness than an orderly set of thoughts or an orderly conversation. It requires that one pay attention. When I finish it, I plan on reviewing it over on a blog I have been invited to co-author, Worm's Book Report.
Maybe after this I'll be able to tackle (and get through) Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Here's to hoping.

Matters of the heart

One of our churches downtown has a free medical clinic on Tuesday mornings, and I have been blessed to be able to go and help out. I don't always feel like I'm of much help, but it's fun to be there. Most of the people we treat are homeless, though some of them are better-kept than others. Some are alcoholics and still haven't hit bottom; others are truly trying to establish themselves but can't find steady work; others are lazy and want to live off the work of others.
I usually don't leave the clnic broken hearted; my ministry here in Rio was solidified inside that church, ministering to "favelados" and homeless people. To be able to do what I do, whether it be in the favelas or downtown, I have to step back from the situation and look at it objectively. My emotions rarely get involved, because I would be a wreck if I allowed them to control every response I had to these people. Yesterday was a little different. God has been opening up my emotions lately to hurt for others. In saying that, I don't mean having pity on people or feeling sorry for them. I mean hurting in the depths of my heart. We saw a patient yesterday who has been in several rehab centers (including the one that the church has). He arrived at the church drunk. Again. He went to one treatment center where the patients couldn't even leave the facility to buy bread (though it was provided), simply to avoid putting the temptation of drink in front of them. He is addicted to cachaça (a Brazilian liquor made from sugarcane -- it's very available and very cheap) and doesn't eat much. He is the son of a pastor, yet his father's relationship with Jesus can do nothing to change this man's life. His family (12 of them, immediate and extended, as far as I could tell) has been praying for him for years. He is still alive. Still drinking, but alive. I can't help but wonder what God intends to do with him.
Another man came to us needing a bandage done. He was quite pleasant to talk to, but was in severe pain. He was wearing one shoe and one flip-flop. He had a wound on his leg that was severely infected. At some point in the past (Brazilians, and more specifically homeless people, have a sense of time and the passage of events that is hard for my North American mind to grasp), he was wounded with metal on his shin. I don't know if it was a factory accident, or shrapnel, or just a crazy one in a million thing. He was trying as hard as he could to take decent care of the wound, wrapping it with clean (?) bandages when he had them, leaves when he didn't. As the doctor and nurse opened the bandages, I had to leave the room. The infection was severe, his leg was swollen, and the open wound was putrid. As the doctor and nurse cleaned his wound, the smell dissipated. As hard as this man was trying to take good care of his leg, he didn't have the capacity or the resources to do so, and my heart went out to him. I wonder how many hospitals he had been turned away from before he saw us yesterday.
Something that Pastor Mark Driscoll (Mars Hill Church in Seattle -- check out the podcasts) said in one of his recent sermons was that God doesn't go to the nice houses and find the good kids to adopt them. He goes to the orphanages and picks out the worst ones. In other words, He doesn't pick us because we have been good, or because we will be an easy child to raise. In fact, we all at some point in time are the horrible kid in the orphanage who has no hope for becoming a contributing member of God's Kingdom. But God picks the hopeless cases. We try so hard to take care of ourselves, to fix our problems, to heal our diseases, but we can't. Sin is a disease that we have no remedy for but perfection. For us, that is impossible, but through Jesus, it is already done. God has given us the remedy for all our evils and ills. Why? First, because He loves us. Second, because we are cases that no one but God can do anything with. Sin's only remedy is Jesus. He alone can change us. He alone can turn us into a contributing member of His Kingdom. God is good, and He is powerful.

Exhaustion Redux

Last night was the worst I've had in awhile by far. 4 hours of fitful sleep were granted to me between the hours of 1 and 2 am, and 6 and 9 am. And we fell back an hour last night, so my body recognized those hours as 2-3 and 7-10. Needless to say, today I am ready to sleep early and much. Here's to hoping I will get some good sleep. I don't want to go the route of taking meds to sleep (except maybe the occasional Benadryl), so tonight (thanks to Al's and David's suggestions) I will be having turkey and carbs, and I will also be taking some chamomile tea. And I might hide ALL my clocks and go to bed when I'm tired. Which is now....

Step 1

Admit you have a problem. Well, I have a problem. I love books. I love buying them, opening a new one, finishing an old one, and reading them.
Things around here have been slow as of late, since our teams don't start up until May. I'm not complaining; it's giving me time to do a lot of stuff I want to do, like read all the Pulitzer Prize-winning novels. I've come upon a new list, and I am attempting to read everything off Peter Boxall's 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die. A complete list of the books can be found here. About 20% of them are available to me from Project Gutenberg, and the rest will just have to wait until I go back to the US. Or will they? I went to the bookstore and bought 2 new books today, one by a Portuguese author, José Saramago (a Nobel laureate) and Atonement (in Portuguese; they didn't have it in English) by Ian McEwan. The problem is this: I already have over 40 books on my to-read list, most of which are saved on my computer (I heart Project Gutenberg!). Two more? What does that make me? Besides seriously addicted....

My lucky day (I hope!)

As most everyone who knows me well knows, I don't have the greatest luck with Valentine's Day. This year (so far) has been drama-free, except for the robberies that happened in my neighborhood, 3 blocks from home this morning. Thankfully, I was still in bed when those were going on.
I got an e-mail from David this morning, and all it said was "Good luck". You have to laugh at that.

Blog Tag

Allison tagged me to play!

I am scraping the bottom of the barrel for things to post about (it's Carnaval, and as I am not there, it's pretty quiet), so thanks to Al for giving me something to post!

7 Random Facts About Me:

1. I currently live in Rio de Janeiro.

2. I had 4 roommates my first 4 semesters in college. Trust me, I was the problem.

3. I regularly eat popcorn for dinner. I mean, what's the point in cooking for just me?

4. I love to cook. The more people I'm cooking for, the merrier!

5. I love to read and am constantly reading more than 1 book at a time. My mom has never been able to understand why or how I do that.

6. I am slowly going through the list of Pulitzer Prize-winning novels. I have read 18 out of 80 so far.

7. My favorite job ever is what I am doing right now (managing and running a pharmacy for volunteer medical missionaries), but my summers as a camp counselor run a really close second.


Game of Blog Tag Rules:
*Link to the person that tagged you.
*Post the rules on your blog.
*Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog.
*Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
*Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs.


I'm tagging:

Susanna Julie Soj Jenna

On friendship

I am beginning to realize how important friendships are to me. You know, those people you have met along the way and will always be a part of your life, no matter who else comes in it. Having been able to see friends over Christmas, I realized that I have a lot more of those friendships than I thought. I am grateful that I have friends I can share my opinion with, who may or may not take my advice, but don't think twice about the way I say things. They know me, they know my heart, and they know I'm not telling them something out of spite or meanness. And so they take my opinion and do what they will with it, but they don't ridicule it; they respect it. And they don't get mad at me for saying it. Those with whom I can be unabashedly honest with are few, and I love them. That kind of honesty and transparency takes time, effort, and not a few disagreements. You have to know it's okay to be who you are, because you are just that. You have to know that if you don't change your opinion on something, your friend is still your friend. You have to walk together long enough to know that walking together is something you do because you want to, because you know the effort is worth it, not because it's something you have to do.
At first, there is no vision of something bigger. All of a sudden, you look back and realize it's been 5, 8, 10 years since that first random meeting, whether you had mutual friends, or your dates decided to ditch you, or you were both going overseas. And you are thankful that God has allowed those people to come into your life and stay. As frustrating as they can be, you are equally frustrating. But that's only because you want to see them make good choices and grow as people. They want the same for you.

Exhaustion, a temporary conclusion

At the risk of boring readers (and myself) by continuing to write about how tired I am, let me just say: I am sleeping. Not enough, but I am sleeping. I am no longer stressing about sleep. My room is considerably darker with the red display hidden. I have not taken medicine to sleep. I might just brave a nap this afternoon.

Exhaustion, Day???

I'm actually just too lazy to count backwards. I have been sleeping better, even over the weekend, which is surprising, considering I saw 2 intense films in 2 days (I Am Legend and Rendition). I have started doing my yoga before bed (apparently your muscles are stretchier at night and it's easier to do), and the whole hiding of my clock has been quite helpful. I'm still waking up in the middle of the night, but I'm not nearly as conscious of it because I don't have red numbers staring at me, mocking me.
The weather here has been prime for daytime sleeping (cool, rainy), and I am sorely tempted....

Exhaustion, Day 3

Not sure what time I went to sleep last night, but it was after midnight (my fault for staying up more than anything). I woke up several times during the night and am getting increasingly frustrated. I am holding off on taking meds to help the sleeping as long as I can (don't worry; I have a small supply on hand), but I am coming close to caving.
There is something in me really wanting to reset my body's circadian clock -- I got up at 8:00 this morning and am really wanting to get in bed right now. Problem is, it's not dark, nor is it past 6:00pm. Maybe if I'm like Paul and make my body obey me....

Exhaustion, Day 2

I put my clock with the big bright red numbers under my bed last night so I wouldn't be tempted to stress about what time it was. I'm really not sure how well it worked, though I know that it took me at least an hour to fall asleep. There are churches whose bells toll every 15 minutes -- that kind of defeats the purpose of my putting the clock under my bed, but at least I'm not tempted to look, right?
This morning at 7:05, my cell phone battery decided to signal its imminent exhaustion as well. Man, that sound is loud! I plugged it in and went back to sleep. My boss called at 7:48. My alarm went off at 8:15, 8:20, and 8:25. I got up at 8:55, read, did yoga, and went for a walk around the block. I have been busy this morning and am tired. Maybe that will help tonight.
On the sleep itself? It wasn't enough.

Exhaustion

I am exhausted. I have had some trouble sleeping over the past few days and I can't figure out why. A myriad of wonderings has passed through my mind, several times. Is it because of the creepy presence that's felt in my room from time to time? Is it because my room isn't dark enough? Is it because of the fact that I am now 3 hours ahead of the time I'm used to going to bed? Is it because my mind is always working, in 2 languages? Is it because I am always in "alert mode" here in Brasil, waiting for the proverbial ax to fall? Is it because I am anxious about getting to sleep?
I have no idea. And it sucks.

Not only in Brasil

I'm sure this could happen in a myriad of other countries, too, but why is it always me?
I went to the Federal Police yesterday to renew my registration and everybody was super nice. Except for the guy who doesn't really like anybody. Good going, right? Yup. Then I got to the last guy. He was also super nice, but noticed that my visa that I've gotten extended had been cancelled in my passport and I'm just in on a tourist visa. He still gave me the stamp in my passport and the little piece of paper that says I'm legally in the country (until October 15, 2008), but warned me that if my paperwork doesn't get approved in Brasília, they will send me an "invitation to appear at the Federal Police" and I will have to leave the country. One thing after another, right? I apparently was supposed to send copies of my papers in with my tourist visa paperwork letting the consulate know I was in the process of extending my visa. Our lawyer told me not to. How frustrating is that? His (the last guy's) exact words were, "let's root for you." Or something like that.
Pray that I don't get kicked out of the country.

2008 To-Do List

I suppose that since it's a new year, I should get into the psychologically appropriate spirit of setting goals. You know, new year, new goals and all. Especially since last year's were kind of a bust. I made a list yesterday of things to do daily, and I completed that list yesterday (1-3; I added 4 and 5 today). I'm hoping I will stick to them.
Here it is, and I may add to or subtract from it at any time....
1. Read/journal/pray
2. Read part of any one of the many books on my "currently reading" list
3. Yoga (apparently, because of my high-stress life and misaligned spine, I am a good candidate)
4. Exercise (not daily, but 3 times a week would be good)
5. Cook something fun every once in a while -- I can't bring myself to cook that much for just me (potato soup was last night, and boy, was it good!)

Back to "reality"

I arrived in Rio this morning safe and sound. No trouble with immigration or customs, though my bags were packed full of fun stuff that doesn't come from Brasil. All of it is for personal use, of course. My flight was uneventful, but there are a few highlights:

• - Before we boarded, I was sitting down eating dinner and a family (around 8 people, including 4 generations) came to sit down near me. The great grandmother needed to sit as well, and the chair I was in was closest to the rest of the family. They directed her to sit somewhere in the row of empty chairs next to me (farther away from the family) and I said, "I can move," thinking that the family would like to sit together. I immediately received a comically collective "NO!" from them. Not sure if it's because I was in the middle of eating my sandwich or because they really didn't want me to have to move. Either way, it was dramatic in true Brasilian fashion.
• When we boarded the plane, we all had little packets in our seats, complete with earphones (for the movie), a mask, lotion (I guess that they can put it on the plane, even if we can't bring it), toothbrush and toothpaste, and earplugs. It is the last I am immensely thankful for. I inserted them into my ears in an attempt to block out the roaring noise from the jet's engines (I was in an exit row seat on the wing -- praise God for those). About halfway through the night I awoke to the sound of a kid screaming. The sound was coming from a seat not near mine. I kept thinking, "Thank You, God, for earplugs," and wondered how much the screaming would have disturbed me had I been sans auditory protection.
• I was on the east side of the plane this morning and was blessed to actually see the sun rising -- from the thin ribbon of sunlight creeping over the horizon to the sun in full display. Full enough to warm me at 30,000 feet.

Boy, am I glad to be back.

It's here!

I am leaving this afternoon for Brasil, and I am skillfully procrastinating. I don't think I'll get everything in my suitcases (that I think are allowed to be up to 70 pounds, since I bought my ticket in Brasil). I don't want to weed anything out, because I will of course be in dire need of it if I don't take it. I'm acting like I live in the middle of nowhere, with no stores around me. And here I sit, typing instead of packing. Back to the undesired....

Just another day

until the mail lady came. Not the regular one, the express one. My passport came in today, and I will be leaving for Brasil on Tuesday evening. Yay! I am ready to go back, since it has been COLD here lately.

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.