Top 10 Reasons I Need To Go Home

It's time to go home.  I can tell because I'm beginning to see anomalies and patterns that shouldn't be happening.  So it is with that, that I share with you dear reader, my top list of REASONS I NEED TO GO HOME

1. I don't giggle anymore when I hear the word "faca"
2. The bellboy at the hotel is messing with my name 
3. Brazilian drivers are too slow
4. I'm thinking about using the small pressure washer beside the porcelain princess
5. Saying Pernumbuco isn't as fun anymore
6. I'm considering purchasing a speedo
7. I'm beginning to hum along with the political music buses that come by
8. I'm thinking egg on pizza wouldn't be bad if it were fried instead of boiled
9. I have an urge to ask Pastor Thyago if he trims his eyebrows (only a few of you will get that)
10. Lila made me me cry

Gone Crackers

It's muggy out here.  And why wouldn't it be?  Warm temperatures, ocean moisture, and occasional cloudbursts.  So today a entrepreneurial idea hit me. Quite by accident, but I think it's got some potential to make a few bucks and I want to research it more.  Let me preface by saying I've not seen one de-humidifier here in my travels.  You would think that odd noting again the muggy atmosphere.  Everything feels damp in the morning, even the fresh underwear feel like yesterday's or the day before, so you're always feeling a little moist. The solution? Crackers..........yup, plain old crackers. I left a small stack of them beside my bedside table and the next morning they were soggy and had to be peeled off the wood.  The air in our room was crisp and dry, as we're the sheets and the new days underwear!  It didn't take me long to put one and one together.  I believe this could be the jackpot, my ship has come in.  I'm asking you dear readers to keep this under wraps.  I'm accepting partnership proposals so feel free to send a check.

I've gotten used to many of the local customs, but I've yet to adopt the "Please place used toilet paper in the waste basket supplied" concept.  I'm guessing the plumbing here is bad and won't take both the deposit plus the cleaning supplies immediately after.   In North America we're accustomed for our machinery to accept it all, the main deposit, a full ream of pillowy soft 7 ply, plus the broccoli grandma made, and whatever other unnecessary treasures you've found in your pocket.  I don't wanna gross you out, but you need to know this. It caught me by surprise, and I'll come clean and admit I haven't abided by this water closet law.  For those of you brave enough however, most places, including hotels, do supply a little trigger pressure washer next to the throne to assist in the cleansing either before or after, whatever your preference. 

The Road Down South

Miles of swaying sugar cane fields, as far as the eye can see, greeted us on all sides as we made our journey down south to Macieo.   It's one of the more beautiful drives I've been on, rivaling the Sea to Sky highway to Whistler in British Columbia, the Oregon coast, the Grey Bruce in Ontario, or the Cabot trail on Cape Breton.  Rolling hill after rolling hill with new vistas at each turn.   Small shanty villages occupied by locals with tanned leather sun beaten skin affirming years of hard honest labour.  

Macieo holds the dubious distinction for being the 3rd worst city in the WORLD for crime per capita. The billboards advertise it like its a tourist attraction, "Macieo welcomes you!, keep your windows rolled up and do NOT smile at the locals". The local tourism bureau distributes pamphlets of all the areas you can visit and possibly witness or be a victim of some crime. I jest, but I'm willing to bet its a tough city and we have no plans on overstaying our welcome.

Our destination in Macieo is the John Calvin School, a school labouring under the support of the Hamilton Canadian Reformed Church, and under the leadership of principle Eliani.  We have no business in this area other than a measure of curiosity as to how this small school operates.  We've arranged a tour and a lunch and arrive mid morning amidst a cloudburst of rain and humid weather.  

As school principles go, I was expecting some grey beard out of a Harry Potter or Lord Of The Rings book.  I'm sorry but isn't that what principles are supposed to look like? A little wrinkly, slightly stooped, a wary eye and beaten brow, the reward of many years hard labour.  What met us however was quite the opposite.  A young man, tall, erect, sporting an eager smile and offering a firm handshake, greeting us all in perfect English.  There goes my theory...

Elias has a passion for The Lord, and serves the small congregation of Macieo as an office bearer as well. He bleeds for this small school of grades 1-5 but also recognizes every year is "survival mode" as this small light on a hill struggles to compete with other schools and stay alive in a secular society.  I could go on for many pages about the needs of this school, but Elias wouldn't want it to be portrayed like that.  He's thankful for what's been given in his charge, and he works hard to maintain a Christian character and focus.  Elias would however covet your prayers for his work, and with that we commit it all into the hands of The Lord.

Life's Little Lessons

I'm wondering some days if Marion has left her mind back at home.  Sunday morning arrives and along with it the the revelation her shorts, bathing suit and t-shirt have gone missing from the day before where they were hung on the balcony railing to dry in the wind.  A quick search of the property in front of our unit yielded no return.  Theft? Gone with the wind? In minutes she had all 20 hotel staff vigorously searching the property, up and down the road, in the palm trees and along the sidewalk.  Police were contacted, bullitens issued and all means of social media was alerted.  Sadly, all of it for naught.  We made our way to church with images swirling in Marion's head of being faced with swimsuit shopping the next day which I'm told, for most women, is like having to buy a house or choose a carpet color.  Not for me.  I go to the nearest WalMart, bee-line to the men's portly section, pick a pair, and faster than you can say "Obrigardo" I'm back in my car and down the street.  But I get that it's not the same for the fairer sex, and I'm a sensitive guy, so all I could do was offer my  verbal sympathy and support.

I tend to be a bit of a fatalist at times, so in my mind I began to play out the next few years.  I had planned my mind would get weaker faster than my spouses, so I was really counting on her to carry the load for the latter years.  Now I'm not sure that's going to happen.  I better step up my game and sharpen the grey cells cuz I might be the one left with the keys.  Upon return from church Marion found all 3 precious items in her suitcase, neatly tucked away and folded from the night before...

Sunday was a special day.   Our brother from another mother Chris was ordained as office bearer in the morning and read a sermon the same evening that he translated for us through Google.  Chris doesn't want to hear congratulatory remarks, and he won't like to hear that I'm proud of him because he sincerely believes he's just a mere servant of God doing kingdom work.  He's right of course, but the Brazilian federation can be thankful for this man and the tireless work he does.  I'm happy He's  on my team,  and I'm pleased to call him brother.

Not all life's lessons come in the forms one might expect.  Today I learned something you won't find in dusty books or renowned universities.  They were taught by a little 5 year old girl Lila.  We were in the midst of a board meeting at our Ecola Biblica Christa, wrestling with some weighty issues when the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day for the primary grades.  Two children burst into our meeting to give their respective parents a hug, obviously delighted to know they were here and happy to see them.  I was annoyed at the interference, the blatant disregard for adults meeting, and the disrespect shown. All that, until young Lila Raap changed my heart by coming through the same door     straight toward me with a huge hug and a smile.  I'm not often caught for words like my good friend Otto will attest to, but I was now, and to be honest it felt good.  The wee ones have something to tell, and we can learn from them.  For those who have been blessed with them, hush up and take the time to listen.  Thank you Lord for sending this little angel when my my heart needed it the most.

Just Relax!

It's election time in Brazil and you would have to live in a hole to not know it.  Hopefuls are running for every public position, and the country is pasted with campaign signs littering the roadsides, hillsides, medians and store fronts.  That's not so different than what's done in North America, except for the fact politicians here also feel the need to hire vehicles and splatter the sides with their mug shots and mount megawatt sound systems on the roofs exclaiming their platforms for everyone to hear, usually along with a little song that gets real annoying after the 100th time. This goes on from dawn to dusk.  I wanna throw an egg pizza at the next one that comes by.

Saturday, and it's a day off from meetings...whoo hoo!  The reality is we've been working hard to get through our mandate, so it's nice to take a day off from meetings.  I've worked up the courage to drive in Brazil.  All you need is a mix of bravery and a lot of crazy.  I score pretty high in the second department so it's off we go!  We scooped the Lego-mobile and set out for a lovely drive south along the coast into Japaratinga, winding along cobblestone streets with crooked sidewalks occupied by the locals who just sit and stare at life going by. What a wonderful notion.  Too relaxed to worry about today because it'll get done tomorrow, and if that doesn't work out then the next day or week will be just fine, thank you very much.

In the afternoon an impromptu snorkeling experience.  The catamarans were all booked, but Raphael the concierge  managed to get us aboard a small schooner built sometime in the day Columbus sailed  the ocean blue.  We made the two mile journey to the coral reef and explored the shallow homes of many tropical fish that appeared to have no fear of humans, even the elderly lady who thought she was still looking hot in a thong bikini. She didn't. Far from it actually.  I would have thought her husband might have the sense to tell her the truth, but he sported a speedo 3 sizes too small so I doubt anything was said. There's gotta be a better way to keep looking young.

 I found a seat that is more uncomfortable than 37E on a Boeing.  It's the dreaded white plastic chair and it can be found in most of the homes out here, including restaurants and churches.  If you are north of 250 these chairs are a thing of horror. I need to sit very still because I'm afraid even the slightest bowel movement will send me to the tile floor.  We visited a seniors program a few days back and a woman in her early 100's walked across the room to present me with two chairs stacked together for extra support.  Bless her heart....

And one final observation.  Amidst all the sun, sweat and humidity I find Brazilian dudes actually smell pretty good.  I attended an outreach "fathers only" evening at our local school which consisted of a speech, BBQ, and spirited game of indoor soccer.  The hombre sitting closest to me smelled like Jasmine with a hint of Lavender.  I wanted to tell him, but for fear of getting punched I elected to keep my trap shut.

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.

Foam Toilet Seats Revisited

Found my first foam toilet seat on Tuesday.  These were a novelty in North America back in the day, but have disappeared off the shelves long ago.  I'm not sure why, but 2 years ago I rediscovered them here in Brazil, and have missed them since. After an afternoon in Recife we made our way to pastor Eliani's for some more meetings and an evening of fellowship with the seminary students.  The humps and bumps in the roads out here make you need to pee real bad so we were quite relieved to have arrived at his place.  Imagine my delight when to my surprise I encountered my beloved foam toilet seat.  Comfort and cushiony with just the right texture to fancy the bottom, and a slight audible wheeze from the foam as you descend in utter luxury.  Had I possessed the right tools I would have attempted to heist it, but realized it might be awkward to sneak it out and fly it back home.

The evening was a delight.  Our host brought out a keyboard and the students sang songs of praise.  We even performed a Canadian quartet,  Tim, Myself, Marion and Andria.  Tim and I nailed it....the ladies were off key.

Centre Recife is a madhouse.  I would imagine that's the case in most metropolitan cities, but this has gotta take top spot in front of Amsterdam or Rome.  Chris is a very capable chauffeur, but even in his hands our lives hang in the balance. One lane streets are actually three lanes.   Pedestrians face life or death on a daily basis, and motorcycles ride like they own the streets, which they do.  We stopped off for some photo opportunities in Recifes oldest district.  From their a view across the water to a reef that displays the city's monument. It's a 5 story Q tip or asparagus tip, I haven't decided which one yet, and I have no clue what it's supposed to symbolize.  Dear reader please google it and let me know?

Wednesday brings us to Maragogi (say Mah-rah-go-gee).  Our first tour of duty was to visit the "Golden Years" project, a seniors program run by our church here.  Kudos to our brother Shaun Raap who was asked to run the the afternoon at a moments notice.  We admired his willingness and he pulled it off admirably.  We did a short devotional about sheep and shepherds, and sang some songs in competition with the VW bus that rode up and down the street with a roof mounted speaker that would have rivalled sound equipment at a Metallica concert.  We lost...

Tonight we split apart. Chris finally back in the arms of his family, Andria boarding at the Raaps, and us in a cozy Pousada (lnn), on the beach.  We'll sleep well with the ocean waves crashing on the shore.