Happy 4th

Morning began around 6:30 with a walk (just me and Marta) along the beach. It's shaped similar to a flat crescent and would take us several hours to walk from end to end - and I'm glad Marta isn't making me do the whole thing. Often she jogs the entire beach but today she has a lot to do before she leaves again tomorrow guiding another tour, this time 20 days - to the south of Brazil and then into Chile. As it is, we speed-walked almost 1 1/2 hours!
I met her parents this morning - they were asleep last night when we arrived. Lourdes and Carlitos are short, smiling, and speak no English. I'll stay here with them while Marta is gone, so yes, I can use more of your prayers. Although if they speak slowly, I can usually understand, or at least get the gist of what's being said. The maid Penha is also here, and when we came back from the beach, my bed was made. Boy, I could get used to this! (Oh yeah, I already have...Terry makes our bed every single day...even puts back the 10 decorative pillows in a near semblance of arrangement...thanks, Babe)
I'm waiting right now for Drew to pick me up...he has already come here once for Marta's mom - dropped her off at church, and then will come get her father for an appointment, picking Lourdes up at church on the way back here to have lunch. Then my work begins. We'll go to university for Marta, who had to take a test this morning, and then she'll show me all around Cenca and her projects in the slums. Got my cameras and notepads handy. Ok, he's here now...gotta go.

How do I describe Cenca? First of all the acronym means Evangelical Center for Children and Adolescents...arrived and met some of her "girls"...women who live in the favela and help her at the Center. They are open and friendly...everyone tells me their names and Marta shows me around. There is work being done today...someone has donated ceramic tile for the floor, so 2 guys who live in the Center are doing the work. The building needs floors, ceilings, and walls...electrical outlets and also computer hookups. Some of the rooms need to be divided, a second floor needs to be added for more classrooms, and there is a need for bathrooms and a bigger kitchen in the rear of the property. Other than that, it's complete. (for those of you Seminoles who didn't understand, that was a joke!)
Fortunately, in this area, which is barely outside of Joao Pessoa, no permits are needed. One just needs to build whatever one desires, and show the plans at the completion. I have no idea what the Prefeitura (City Hall) would do at that point if they didn't like what you built! There is a very inexpensive place at the end of the road nearby where materials can be purchased. We're hoping to get enough in donations from organizations, foundations, and churches, that we don't need to buy anything at all. Mariana, the graduating architect, showed me the plans she had drawn up and we transferred them to my computer so I can, in turn, explain it to the team members. Fabiana, a teacher, wanted to show us her school of 64 children. Currently, she's renting the building and when Cenca is refurbished, she'll move her students there rent-free.
We walked through the favela...a dangerous activity but for Marta accompanying us. "Homes" are built with just one wall separating each residence...like one long single story dormitory. Dirt floors, no window glass, and very tiny. It was hard for the 3 of us to even crowd into their "living room" space. They have nothing, but food obviously tops the list of needs. There is, however, a president (presidente da comunidade) in the favela to whom one would go if one has a dispute with a neighbor. This person also advocates with the local government on behalf of the residents in the community.
There are favelas all over Brazil, small communities that are extremely (with emphasis on "extremely") poor. Some of them have a cart and a horse and they travel into the nearby cities to pick up recycling, for which they can then receive a few coins to buy food for their families. My first encounter was more than 20 years ago on my first visit to San Paolo and Rio. All over the cities were cardboard homes built under the highways. Of course when it rains, between the water and the mud, all was lost and new cardboard must be found to build a new "house". At that time, Michael Jackson had just released a video picturing some of these favelas.
Our next stop was Casa de Salem (House of Peace) where Helio goes to volunteer his time as a doctor to the community. There is donated dental equipment and also an exam table where Helio can care for patients. Above his desk is a handwritten sign that proclaims "you are special to God". The resident burro is named either Anna or Shrek, depending on who answers my question. (It's a male)
Lastly, we arrived at the orphanage...sign in front reads: Resgatando Vidas. Ey Adoto Este Sorriso! "Rescuing Lives. Adopt this Smile!" Orphanages in Brazil are not allowed to house more than 10 children, and for up to 2 years only. At the end of those 2 years, the children must be returned to their homes if possible, or find another place to live. They often end up back in the orphanage and this cycle can repeat several times before children are able to be adopted. This orphanage has 12 kids, 11 girls and one boy. Niedja runs the home, and her husband Moises is studying biology in the University.
This building, too, could use some work, though not as much as Cenca. Here the lack is ceilings, updated bathrooms, and a renovated kitchen. The children's rooms are nice and colorful, and there is a large yard with a sandy area and plastic play gym.

As is often the case, this community is built very near the train tracks...where a group of boys was playing soccer. I remember visiting a slum in Guatemala, and the babies were just playing on the crosspieces of the tracks. When the train blew its whistle, the mothers calmly went to pick up their babies, let the train pass, and then put them back down in the middle again. We just have no idea what life is like for them. I tend to focus on each individual and that's what hurts my "mother" heart. Marta is only one person. I am only one person. The church - worldwide - needs to - as Chef Emeril says - "kick it up a notch". We need to have teams coming year-round, to build, to train, to feed, to play with, to tell them about Jesus. There's the missionary in me coming out again. I know there are many good works going on right now, and many churches who are doing their part (more than their part in certain cases) to help, but there's always so much more to do.

In our little "family" there are not enough cars to go around, so everyone borrows everyone else's car...although every day we all join together at Marta's apartment for lunch. This afternoon we pick up Sueli from work, hopefully to get her car from the mechanic, and later get Marta to the airport at midnight. Evening arrives and no one has made supper - (Lourdes will have nothing to do with the kitchen), so when Penha leaves at 2pm, no more food gets made. Even with the big lunch we had, we're hungry, so Drew, Sueli, and I go to the beach..."Churrascinho do Gaucho"...a little barbeque place with great garlic bread and picanha (New York Strip steak) prepared on skewers. A bottle of Bohemia beer and Guarana rounds out this late supper for us and it's home to bed. I saluted our troops for Independence Day.

Sunday...leaving Maragogi

Woke a bit earlier this morning to pouring rain. As I tried to quietly get my book, Marta again greeted me, (when she first wakes up, she begins spouting off in Portuguese a mile a minute and then realizes who I am and speaks English) but this time since she‘d gotten back to the room at 2am, she was going to try to sleep longer. No problem...I’m in the middle of a good book, so went out on the veranda, listened to the rain and read for an hour before I got good and hungry (and in need of some of their delicious strong coffee). Waited for a lull in the showers and walked between raindrops to the restaurant. I just love that God created so many colors, tastes, and textures, especially in the world of fruits. Had to try one of everything, plus this morning there was juice of maracuja (passion fruit) and mango juice. Who needs orange juice when there’s all this other colorful and tasty stuff to eat and drink?
On my 3rd cup of coffee and after hearing almost an entire BeeGees CD, Marta walked in and had a bit of breakfast too, before we took a very long (2 hours??) walk on the beach. Hopefully the rain had passed, though this morning was so gloomy and rainy I wasn’t so sure. We had both English and Portuguese lessons in the sand, (she writes better with her toe than I do!) gathered some seashells (like I don’t have enough at home from all over the world!) and just enjoyed creation together. We’ve known each other for at almost 20 years...lost contact...found each other on facebook, so we can be talking all the time, (I’m sure this is a huge surprise to those of you who know me well) or we can be silent. Either way, it’s totally comfortable. She is the mother-in-law to Drew’s daughter Shalomir, whom I’ve known since she was a little girl, and Marta’s son’s name is Michael, like mine. (my youngest biological son).
By the time we got back to the resort (I think we walked nearly all the way to the town of Maragogi), the sky was clearing and the sun was getting quite hot, so I changed and read by the pool closest to our building. There is one long, winding pool that runs the entire depth of the resort, from reception to the last bar before the beach and then a couple of others to either side of that one...well thought out and just begging for Kodak moments. Marta finished up some business and began rounding up the kids. Lunch was just a quick bite before I got my bags and came to the reception area, only to find out the bus driver is still 2 hours away! I guess nothing has really changed in Brazil since the last time I was here. Meeting times are merely vague suggestions.
Just outside the lobby is a lovely thatched roof gazebo...actually, it’s a really big outdoor room with comfortable wicker chairs, settees and tables all around an information desk in the center. Since the lobby is not air-conditioned, (or they just don’t turn it on in the winter) I decided to come out here to do the blogging...though it’s probably about 85 degrees, here in the shade with sheer, white billowy curtains I’m enjoying a delicious breeze. When the gal came to work the desk, she turned on some music and the first song I heard was “Here I am to Worship.” The background music in all the buildings here has been a curious mixture of 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s American pop/rock music, religious, and Brazilian.

Turns out we didn’t have to wait as long as we originally thought...driver arrived only about an hour late, so we got on the road, this time up the east coast instead of the inland route Drew, Sueli, and I endured. I'm on the right side of this luxury bus - no, really...this one is very nice...comfortable seats, curtains on all the windows, a TV monitor for videos that actually works...all this and air-conditioning too.
Shortly after we set out, we picked up 2 hitch-hiking soldiers...dropped one off halfway to Recife and the other right in the city. Along the way were more lush, green-covered ‘lumps’ (see previous blog) of earth...lots more sugar cane, palm trees and banana trees. As we neared Recife we could tell there’d been a big rainstorm...puddles everywhere, adding to the horribly pot-holed highway – the luxury of the bus doesn’t quite make up for the terrible bumps. Apparently Brazil DOT is nearly as effective as that of many of the northern US states!
However, bright spot – serendipity – of the day was the FULL rainbow on my side of the bus. Sometimes one just catches a little glimpse of ¼, or maybe ½ of the bow, but this one was bright, full, and “followed” us for quite a few kilometers. Thank you God for color and beauty, and the good sense to appreciate it!

About 6pm our time, I just had to hear Terry’s voice, so I called him for a few minutes till I lost cell coverage. It’s such a blessing to have that man’s voice, so happy and enthusiastic, answer the phone, every time I call, even if it’s just from “the green room” (my office on the 2nd floor of our home) to “the media center” (his office in the finished basement...otherwise known as “the best room in the house” if you’re talking to son Bobby.
We talked for just a few moments, lost connection, and then I called him back when we made a pit stop in a little restaurant along the way. The kids all bought something to eat, but Marta and I had dinner waiting in JP (Joao Pessoa), so we just snacked. Arrived in JP sooner than I thought, and Drew and Sueli were there to pick us up, take us to Marta's apartment to do a quick change and then out to dinner at the best shrimp restaurant in the city. We were meeting Helio, the doctor who volunteers every Monday at Cenca to care for the people there. We all had a good conversation about health and the how the government either is useless or has a case of right hand not knowing what left hand is doing. (sound familiar?) There are supposed to be programs in place for the poor to get free or radically reduced prescriptions, but even if the paperwork is filled out, when you take it to the governmental office, they claim to have no knowledge of it. Ahh, bureaucracy.

They were right...the shrimp dish we had was creamy and wonderful. We parted after dinner and Drew and Sueli dropped Marta and me off at the apartment with the instructions to call in the morning. "Late morning".

If it's Saturday, this must be Maragogi

What does it say about me that I always sleep much better when I’m in another country? I had a great rest and awoke around 7:30 Brazil time...6:30 “body” time, which, for me is sleeping in. I moved slowly and quietly to get out of my bed, and Marta said “Bom dia”. Guess she was already up and just waiting for me. We made our way to the restaurant, where we had the most glorious array of fruit. Besides seeing my friends here, 2 of my very favorite things about coming to Brazil are...no great time changes...during DST they’re just one hour ahead of us, and all the exotic fruits. I’ve seen some of them at the farmer’s markets around Atlanta, but some are still found only here. There was the usual watermelon, papaya, and kiwi. We can sometimes get goiaba (guava) but it’s not nearly as good because here it’s just hours from being picked ripe. As a rule, I avoid pineapple because it’s rarely very sweet. But the pale slices lured me in and their sweetness only made me want more...juicy, too. These are wild pineapple (ananas) in contrast to the cultivated ones (abacaxi). Cashew fruit (yes, fruit, with the nut attached to it) is an acquired taste, and I enjoy another called pinha (“peen’ ya”) that doesn’t have a translation. There was graviola juice...also no translation.
Drew and Sueli joined us about an hour later and after we had all eaten as much as we could (10 days of this kind of eating???) we all decided to walk on the beach. The tide was out so we just meandered toward the coral reef, which creates a natural boundary. There are many places called piscinas naturais – natural swimming pools, which occur when the tide goes out just a little and there are hollows in the sand that retain the water. It’s warm and clear, though the sand is dark and dotted with seaweed and driftwood. Guys drive around in dune buggies, hawking rides all the way out to the water...I’ve done that and it’s a lot more fun in the sand dunes of my favorite beach, Genipabu, in Natal.
When we finally turned around to come back - ooops - we noticed the tide had come in a bit – fortunately not terribly high, since none of us had swimsuits on. Before we made it all the way to the beach, it began to rain and by the time we got to some semblance of shelter, it was pelting us pretty hard. There were quite a few people by the bar so we all crowded as best we could, ordered some fishcakes and beverages. We stood for quite a while, drinking, but never receiving our fishcakes. When questioned, the bartender said, “oh, we didn’t make them.” No other explanation. Gotta love the communication here.
Since it was lunchtime, we all just decided to eat some real food – Drew and Sueli needed to get on the road, so we didn’t linger long. With hugs and kisses (we’re going to see them Sunday afternoon) they drove off, and Marta and I came to the reception area for the only available internet connection, sat here for longer than I imagined and had a coffee and some “sweeties” before she got tired and went back to the room. When I finally left, it was late in the afternoon, but still time to read on our veranda before dinnertime. Marta is an excellent tour guide and checks on her “children” (a group of 17-year-olds on holiday from school) very often, hanging out with them, going to the pool, gym, being a good mother hen.
Dinner was good, and the array of desserts just too enticing to ignore. I try to take just one bite’s worth of each flan and torte because they’re all delicious. After dinner we sat in our air-conditioned room and she “introduced” me to the projects she’s working on...she’s been working with female prisoners, teaching them English and the Bible, but that work will pause for a while, as she’s stretched much too thin. Her main work is called Cenca, where hopefully my team will come and help renovate in October. There she takes girls and women off the street and teaches them a trade like making jewelry, cutting hair, manicures, sewing, and, in the future, cooking. They learn English as well. Marta’s heart is probably bigger than all of Brazil and another love of hers is working in the slums. There are orphans and also kids who have parents, but no place to go during the day, so we’ll be able to go and meet them too. She is just one person and I sincerely hope that reading this might help ignite a fire that will bring us together as a team to come alongside her.
When I’d seen every picture on her computer we decided to watch some of the show in the outdoor theater of the resort. Evidently the young people working here are also given the double duty of being the “singers” and dancers in the show, and quite obviously the costume budget was a little less than that of Disney World (ok, a LOT less). But they were definitely enjoying themselves and loved being able to entertain us. The big thing is the fog machine...in between every number was the exact same music, same length of time, and lots of fog! Milli Vanilli has nothing on the one gal who lip-sync-ed to an American song but kept forgetting to keep the fake mike close to her mouth. Afterward, they invited everyone to come up and take pictures with them. You'll be very surprised that I declined.
Sleep came easily to me...Marta went out to spend some time with her kids again.