Bang Braid

I am at my halfway mark today.

Looking back, I'm flooded with memories. New situations, breakthroughs, encouraging stories, warm people, a city full of life, calming beaches. Life here, from what I've seen alongside the missionaries, is beautiful.

But there has been a side of that beauty that has been a bit hard to swallow. It is the part of beauty that comes with pain. And though I wish I could write to you that things are only wonderful, there is something much more honest and true in my exposure of the difficult.

I had a hard conversation with one of the missionaries this week. For sake of discretion I won't define gender. I pretty much asked what feelings living in Salvador bring him/her. He/she answered: Loneliness. I don't remember exactly the wording that came next, but I can remember the message. It isn't the kind of loneliness that leaves. It is the kind of loneliness that makes you question your every decision. You don't have family here, whatever you considered as family back in the States. Actual family, neighbors, college roommates, nothing. They're not here. You remember your friend's birthday and you call, but no one answers because they're out celebrating with the people you're never with anymore. You have to buy a one-way plane ticket, and you do not know when you're coming home. It's not easy to cope with. And if you don't know deep with-in yourself why you're here, if you don't feel this IS what God wants for your life- you'll cave. You'll leave. And you'll be defeated.

Okay. I know that sounds super heavy. And I know you might be thinking, it's not like that every time. And you're probably right, it probably doesn't happen like that every single time. But I can't lie and say I haven't seen this kind of suffering in the team here, and I can't say I haven't felt a dose of the same thing even in my short time.

Another one of the missionaries put it this way. When you come from the States to another country, you're like the color blue (stay with me here). Everyone from the States is blue. The people from the country you're moving to are yellow. The longer you stay, you don't lose your blue, but you don't become yellow. You find you just turn green. And suddenly you're a mixture of both that can't fully relate with either culture anymore.

I'm not saying at ALL that if God calls you to missions that you shouldn't go. And I'm not saying at all that He can't fill that lonely void. I just feel it's fair to communicate that moving to another country, learning another language, experiencing a new culture, and becoming a stranger not only to a strange land but to a land you once knew as home..even though it's exciting and risky and adventurous..does not come without sacrifice. There are feelings and occurrences that are less-than-glamorous to say the least.

Most of all, it's important to know that my point in writing all this out is NOT to say that mission work isn't worth it. The missionaries here think it's worth it. Back to the first conversation with the missionary who described the loneliness he/she struggles with. My favorite part of that conversation was when I asked how he/she knew this is where he/she is supposed to be. First words of the answer: Because my life is better because of it.

I left out a lot of the other stuff that he/she struggled with since living here. I was speechless when I heard the answer was that life was better here. Maybe it's simply because suffering for the sake of following God's calling makes life more full than living a life of ease without purpose. The missionary said that if he/she still lived in the states, his/her faith and marriage would be lost by now. After hearing his/her other struggles, I know that statement is all too true. Somehow never feeling a sense of connection brought him/her to a true place of belonging.

Everyone's story will be different. Obviously not everyone's life would be better in Salvador, Brazil. Sometimes God calls us to remain in a place rather than travel far. Sometimes the more challenging thing to do is stay where we are rather than running away to another distant somewhere. I guess it's just a matter of being. Learning to exist in God wherever He places us with open minds, open eyes, and open hearts. I just thought I'd show a little honesty that with that openness comes vulnerability to suffering.



In other news :)

Happy Bahian Independence Day!
Of course, also, not so happy day either. It's been raining pretty hard tonight, harder than I remember noticing since we've been here. Coincidence? I think not. World Cup, it's been fun..

Next week will be an exciting week. It is a campaign week, which basically means we have a couple families coming in from the States to help us in our cause here. We will be doing a lot of service projects, Bible studies, worship, etc., and will end with a VBS Saturday! I am looking forward to it. More to come.

A Little Bit of Chinapple Punks

It's so hard to pick what I want to write on here, there is so much :)

It's definitely the holiday season here. Last Thursday was the holiday "Sao Joao" and this coming Friday is Bahia's Independence Day.

Sao Joao, or St. John, is a celebration of the harvest. I obviously don't understand a lot about it, but I do know that around town last week I saw a lot of big fires and all month I've been seeing corn. Lots and lots of corn. And peanuts. The fires have to do with a myth about Elizabeth and Mary, the mothers of John and Jesus. Since they were cousins, Brazilians believe that their houses were on two hilltops close enough to see each other. When Elizabeth found out she was pregnant, she set a huge fire so that Mary could see. The corn and peanuts are for the harvest.

The day before Sao Joao, after a morning with the women missionaries, the Quireys, Trish, Marcy, and I all headed out to the Pelourinho. This is basically the part of town that has all the scenes you will see when you type in "Salvador" on Google. It's known as the old town. There are so many beautiful historical buildings like The Lacerda Elevador and different churches. I think my favorite part is the way the buildings that line the streets are painted bright colors like pink and yellow and blue and green. Awesome. Pictures provided :)

After the Pelourinho, Paula, one of the church members, invited us over to her mother's house. Her mother made us a meal in which everything we ate was made with corn. Except for the boiled peanuts. I never knew corn could be used in SO many ways. Picture also provided. :) After dinner we all went outside to do fireworks; it was great to enjoy part of the holiday festivities with a true Brazilian family.

In other news, God has used the great game of "Colheres" to connect people once again..also known as "Spoons." If you haven't fallen in love with this game, give it a shot and you will. We played Friday night with Cintia and Cibele, who are sisters, and their fiances. We started off with Clue, English style then Portuguese style. They really are advanced in their English, and we still struggle with out Portuguese, but I don't mind letting them know I need the help from them. To end the night, there was Spoons; much less language mess, much more laughing. To those of you reading this who have been a part of Writing Utensils, I know this will bring you much joy.

Spoons made another appearance Saturday with two of the young teens. I hadn't met either one up until that point, but they've come around to all the events since then so I'm thinking we might need to revisit this game soon. Clear Lakers- you'll also be happy to know we played Ninja.



I asked Val the other day if she thought it really mattered to the Brazilian church members that we had come to spend some time in Salvador with them. She gave an enthused yes and explained how big of a deal signs of kindness do for people here. She reminded us we don't just come as Americans, but Christians. Not all Christian churches here are always as loving as we would hope for. I remembered Randy explaining that probably the most common "love language" here is time; just letting people know they're worth your time. It's humbling how easily something as simple as the kindness and love of Christ can communicate.

"At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life. This is a trustworthy saying. And I want you to stress these things, so that those who have trusted in God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good. These things are excellent and profitable for everyone." Titus 3:3-8

"He's Looking For His Cookie.."

Saturday was our first time to participate in the church's "Benevolence Lunch." ICOS (the name of the church I work with) usually provides lunch to homeless and people of the neighborhood every other Saturday.

The pace of the lunch was rather relaxed and slow. It was a come-and-go event and it was a normal activity for the church members so I didn't notice anyone appearing very stressed while getting things in order and what not. I think that helped the experience be so refreshing.

Many of the people who came for the lunch come every time. One of the men who came Saturday was there Sunday morning at our church services. Some were homeless and into spiritism, etc. Some obviously had a job but don't get by off much and could still use the extra meal. Many of them brought Tupperware to take leftovers home for a later meal or for loved ones.

This brings to mind a thought that I've found very interesting since I've been here..

In the States, there is a strong sense of working hard to improve your status. In Brazil, that way of thinking is minimum, non-existent, or only exists for young children who have some light hope of a good education. There really is not much hope in improving status or class or circumstance here.

Many people from the States might find this depressing. But really, there is much acceptance and joy among people within the different classes here. There is not a constant drive to push yourself to "climb" any kind of "ladder." There instead seems to be a stronger desire to savor moments, to enjoy where you are..because when you wake up in the morning, you'll still be there. Same class, same position, same people, same location..and that is alright. Good, even. Something to be thankful for.

Because of this, the missionaries have found they needed to rethink their vision of "helping out the poor in need."

How much of our want to improve another person's circumstance is based off of Christian values and how much is based off of American expectations of a way of life?

That's not to say there is no need here. There is plenty. That's not to say the missionaries don't try to provide for those needs whenever possible. But the facts are real: there isn't much that you or I can do to change the way most of these people live. So does that mean we need to work harder? Or do we need to consider the question: If they are happy in their way of life, how much do we need to step in and change? Maybe what they need most is someone who is willing to give time to them?

I don't claim to even begin to understand this conversation that is really much bigger than me. I just think it's something that's worth consideration, and something I hope to learn more about.



P.S. Something you might appreciate: The title of this post is a quote from when Marcy and I were trying to explain Sesame Street to two of the Brazilian women here. It was on the television because the missionaries' kids were watching it. Cookie Monster was singing a song about his cookie at the disco. Haha, to save you from much embarrassment, I hope you never have to explain this to someone from a different culture.. ;)

80 rais

Yesterday was our Sabbath, so we had the day to rest and recharge. Nothing like a massage on the beach, soaking up the sun, taking a four hour nap, playing a cool train game with my host family, cooking eggplant parmigiana, reading and getting in bed by ten to regain my strength.

So today, I woke up well refreshed and renewed. There was something different about today and it was evident from the start. There was an excitement all around that couldn't be missed. That's right, today Brazil would play their first game in the World Cup 2010.

We headed up to the church after lunch and helped to decorate for the big event. We were showing the game on the big screen at the building for church members and for those who didn't have a place to watch. Green and yellow were EVERYWHERE.

Now, I have seen some sports fanatics in my life, but I have never seen anything like this. The entire country shuts down for this. Kids were out of school today. The majority of Brazilians were able to leave work by 1 or 2 for the game that started at 3:30. Once the game starts, there are no cars or people on the streets. Everyone is glued to a screen somewhere watching the great sport of futebol. When a goal is scored, if you step outside you can hear the celebration from all around and the fireworks going off.

Needless to say, BRAZIL WON. When we went home after the game, we made a drive in 15 minutes that normally takes 45 minutes in traffic. No one was on the road. Everyone was too busy celebrating. We've been hearing fireworks ever since.

Some people might think this is over the top or a mess of priorities. But it was really quite refreshing for an entire country to celebrate something so strongly together. It was so uniting. I am excited for the next game :)

We also have two interns from ACU who are in Recife for the summer joining us until Thursday. It is wonderful to see familiar faces. We hung out with them after the game. We ordered pizza (so American I know) and had some prayer time. It was a peaceful evening and a time of good reflection as Marcy and I got to talk to the Porters (my host family) about our internships so far.

The rest of the week? Tomorrow is our third English Bible Study; Thursday consists of English and Portuguese lessons and hopefully meeting with Ismael and Randy to discuss some of Ismael's questions over a Bible Study he is doing on his own; Friday will be helping the team by watching kids as they have a meeting all day with another missionary; Saturday will hopefully be visiting a family from the church and then a visit downtown to see some of the corn festival in celebration of St. John.

Things are getting a little bit more routine here. Adjusting can still be difficult at times, but not consistently. I am beginning to form better relationships with the team here and I thoroughly enjoy the two other interns I work with, Trish and Marcy. I still find the language barrier frustrating with some of the church members, but even with that wall, I am beginning to really fall in love with them. I can tell there are some very solid people in the church body here. From some I feel they have a lot of frustration and confusion, and I am slowly working to show them my concern with anything other than words..emphasis on the word slowly. Here, one of the biggest challenges is just simply "being". Being peaceful, being Christ's disciple, being faithful, being patient, being loving, being disciplined, being devoted.. May God continue to counsel us in this in His wisdom..

Left-Handed Absorption

Walking down the street with Matt, one of the missionaries. Hand at my side lightly over my bag just to make sure it's still there. The amount of people and children about puts me at ease, though I'm still not sure about where I'm about to find myself.

Tiny flags hang overhead. Shops and bakeries decorate our left and right. Potholes, trash, stray dogs, dirt. Stares. There is no blending here. Matt offers up an "oi" every once in a while. I've learned how disarming a smile can be. I buy the best sandwich I've probably ever had in a shop on the corner for 2 rais (which is a little over a dollar). We continue on our way until we come to a tiny gate that's wedged in along the wall. I almost pass it up, but Matt greets the young woman who'd been standing in the doorway to wait for us. We walk up three flights of stairs and come to the living room of the third floor. I only know Marcelo, a man from our church who I think is about in his thirties or so. I am unfamiliar with everyone else in the room. I have no idea what to expect, or if I have the energy today for it, but I take a deep breath and go on in.

Awkward. The first moments always are. I'm always suddenly aware or where my hands fall, how I'm standing. I try to relax my stiffened shoulders, look the first person I see in the eyes, and smile. It's a woman. She shakes my hand. "Tudo bem?" I know the answer to this very common greeting, but my mind blanks. I smile. She smiles. I relax a little more. Marcelo tells me to make myself at home as he points to the couch. He says it in Portuguese though so it takes me a while to figure it out. I don't mind at this point. He and Matt talk for a second and I take out my sandwich. After my hands are good and greasy, the girl about my age who led us in enters and comes to shake my hand. I show her the grease and we laugh. She is Marcelo's sister I figure out by now. She sits on the armrest next to me and strokes my hair. From then on, I feel no worries.

Marcelo, eager to practice his English, sits and talks with me. We struggle to communicate at times but it is helpful and cheerful. Marcelo's brother tells him to stop talking to me so I can eat. His brother and I exchange smiles from across the room.

Alone for a moment on the couch I sit and listen to Marcelo's brother and sister and another older woman speak to each other in Portuguese. By now they know I don't speak the language well but the sister signals "crazy" to me as the brother sings and dances to soft background music. That I understand and we laugh together.

More people file in and I do what I can to smile and observe. Marcelo is back speaking English and his brother brings me a small piece of "bolo," or cake. When I realize they're trying to start their video, I go onto the porch with three "meninas," or little girls, and Marcelo follows to translate. The "meninas" are immediately open to being my friend. We make crafts and the girls bask in my praises of "linda, linda," or pretty, as they show off their creations to me. I also meet another woman who is excited to tell me she has English in her blood. She studies my face and seems happy for my visit.

We enter the living room again when the group is ready to close. We circle up and hold hands to pray and share desires we wish to lift up to God. During the prayer I feel two little hands squeezing in on either side of me. Two shining smiles are gleaming up at me as I squeeze the little girls' hands.

After the prayer there is "bolo" and bread - all very good - and more conversation. I sit on the couch again. I am soon surrounded by "as meninas," as well as three girls that are close to my age, two of them are Marcelo's sisters (twins). We ask each other questions and Marcelo translates. We all laugh because the confusion builds as Marcelo's brain and my brain grow tired. I am more than grateful for the closeness and interest. They ask if I am Christian. Marcelo tells me his sisters are not, though he hopes they will be soon. Most people who are a part of this study have not committed their lives to Christ. I feel the frustration of language barriers as I want to tell them myself that I don't judge them. I long to understand what they feel about Christ and what holds them back. I am aware enough to know that they do not doubt God's existence. I smile again and we keep eagerly asking each other questions about our lives as Marcelo translates. I am sad to leave the crowded couch as Matt tells me it's time to go.

It takes some time to get back down to the street. I hug and kiss everyone "chao." (It's funny, the two kisses on the cheek are not as awkward as I imagined.) They tell me again and again to come back. All of them help me to fumble out the words: "I want to come back here" in Portuguese. Marcelo and "as meninas" walk us the whole way out. One menina holds my hand the entire way. I blow kisses and wave to the girls from the car and Marcelo is excited about his English lesson on Thursday. (Marcy and I have taught two English lessons to two women so far; they are all excited to practice.)

My heart is full from the warmth of the home as we drive away. I remember my prayer from the afternoon and thank God for answering with His presence and for speaking to me through the experience. I am also mindful of my desire I lifted up in the closing prayer of the study: to find ways to connect with any and all people..

Coconuts & Roly Polies

The week came full on and as strange as it feels I was glad to be swept up in it. I guess I didn't update much this week because it's hard to find words for such an unfamiliar circumstance. Words are really a funny subject to Marcy and I at the moment. We're so used to trying to rephrase our sentences to those who speak a little English while also absorbing as much Portuguese as we can, that our overall communication skills have pretty much gone splat because of it. We've learned to embrace it though, it's fun.

It's really surprising and hopeful to see how well you can connect with people even when you don't understand each others' language. I knew at this point I would know of the members in the church, but there are definitely a number that I feel really comfortable around for only knowing them a week. Everyone here has such a welcoming nature about them. My favorite thing is that people don't just suggest things to do here, but offer to take you to do it..and mean it.

Paula told us that she would love to take us to see the countryside and also "the reality" of the slums. She thinks it's good for us to see all sides of Salvador; I agree.
Daniella told us that she would love to take us to visit her autism clinic where she practices art therapy. She prays for words of hope for those who've lost it.
We went this week to our first Brazilian birthday party, which is a must. It was for a 7 year old girl, Fernanda, but in this country adults also attend. Brazilian birthday parties put North American birthdays to shame. (Currently while writing this blog, Marcy and I heard them popping balloons from a birthday party for 45 minutes..at least)
Cibele told us that she would love to take us to see a professional soccer game with her; she said it's very important to her (..and all of Brazil).
Ana Carolina is taking us to her beach house tomorrow on our day off.
Others have offered beach trips and Brazilian food and to teach us Portuguese and anything really to help us get a feel for their culture.

As far as what we do with the church besides building relationships, I was able to participate in four Bible studies this week, took my first Portuguese lesson, will be teaching English starting Tuesday, helping a lot with the children's ministry, staff and prayer meeting with the missionaries, and just helping out where needed. Updates on these and more to come :)

It's been a blast. I won't say adjusting was the easiest thing I've ever done but I'm grateful for the warmth I've found among these people and mostly with God, my one constant.

It's funny, really. I have learned some pretty crazy differences as far as trains of thought go, etc., so I definitely realize..feel..and want to keep learning the contrasts between the two cultures. But the more I learn about these people, the more I realize we're all the same. We're really all the same.



This doesn't have to do with Brazil, and everyone who knows me I'm sure will laugh or roll their eyes at the fact that I feel the need to mention this, but of course I just need to. Tigger, one of our cats that we've had for 13 years got what they think was cancer and we had to put him down. I'm lucky and got to see him the weekend before I left. It just makes me feel better to remember him on here.