When The Moon Hits Your Eye.......

The silky moonlight cast an eerie glow over the waters off the shore.  In the distance bobbed a lonely fishing trawler, gently nodding in agreement with the incoming waves.  A small orange cabin light shone, swaying in unison, signalling life aboard.  That, and the faint sound of salsa music proving that perhaps the inhabitant or inhabitants were affording themselves a small celebration from the catch of MahiMahi or whichever type of fish teams in these waters.  I would suppose a variety, because every menu here displays many of the local catches.  I just like saying MahiMahi cuz it's a fun name.  It's real neat to sit out and gaze at the ocean.  The natural reef is miles out and you can see the white breakers in the distance. It's a amazing to think the next stop out there is Imboobawa Africa, or some country like that.  Imboobawa doesn't exist, but it should, cuz it sounds a lot more fun than Nigeria or Mozambique, which I just realized sounds pretty cool too.

We're enjoying Maragogi, a quaint touristy town with wonderful beaches and no threat of sharks because of the natural reef, unlike Recife where them bad boys walk up on the beach and snatch the purse or camera out of your hand, or actually with your hand, or arm, depending how hungry he or she is.  I'm exaggerating again, but you wouldn't think it with all the beach signs in Recife stating that the Great White makes his home here.  I'm surprised the guy on the beach playing fetch the stick with  his pooch Alberto wasn't more cautious.  I would have warned him but it would probably come out like "Hey you, there's a beer in your sandal, quick, get your hair cut", which of course would only illicit a stare in return that could be interpreted as "Mind you're own business you chunkster".  Whatever...Alberto's probably shark bait today and I don't care. There are enough stray dogs loitering around Brazil.

We've had two successful days of meetings with our Mission Aid family's.  The Boersema's and Raap's have been very accommodating, and it was a pleasure to chat about the work they do.

The evening was free, so Marion and I went for a stroll along the beachfront and found a quaint pizzeria where we settled down for a cool beer prior to dinner.  The menu was in Portuguese, but we found an item that promised pepperoni and bacon, plus a host of other ingredients we couldn't identify, but felt should be safe and common on a pizza pie.  We made that our selection, ordered another wobbly pop, and waited in high anticipation of our reward for the night.  Fifteen minutes and sure enough, there it came, carried high in the air like a good pizza should, steaming fresh from the stoneware oven.  We immediately identified the pepperoni and bacon, just like the menu exclaimed, but we were not prepared for the corn, peas, olives, and thick slices of boiled egg that accompanied them. Horror of horrors! These things don't belong on a pizza, yet here they were, staring us down, mocking us with a look that said  "oh yeah....come and get me".  We ate it....but were not happy about it.