Our First Few Days

We’ve been in Brazil four full days now, and every day has been a smorgasbord of sights and sounds and new experiences. We did kick back the first day, hanging out with grandkids, going grocery shopping, getting settled into our quarters. The second day we worked at the “ranch,” making and pouring cement with about 15 young Brazilian men who are continuing to work on a training center for the mission here that has been in progress for about three years. Yesterday, we trekked with about 30 other people to a waterfall, two hours each way on the dusty Amazon highway, then back deep into the jungle until we had to hike the last half mile or so on foot. Today was a visit to the colorful Altamira street market, bartering for spices and vegetables and reddes (hammocks), which we will need on our river boat trip, and church in the evening.

Ro is doing great, having lots of fun with her nieces, and is always good for a few laughs. Those of you who collect Ronesha-isms, her ongoing list of mangled words, will appreciate learning that the national language in this country is porkucheese.

We are delighted and thankful to see how well Josh and Brin are adapting to their new home and ministry. They are tolerably conversational in the language, upbeat about the inconveniences of living in so remote a place, already finding ways to connect and minister to people in significant ways. They have customized their living quarters to fit their needs, built and bought functional furnishings, connected themselves to support people, and developed routines and structures for their girls. They seem to take the challenges in stride.

The Bandeirante, Josh’s 30-year-old safari wagon, which he introduced with pride a few months ago, is everything I could have imagined. I’m sure it’s reminiscent of the vehicle he drove back in the highlands of Papua New Guinea fifteen years ago. Distinguished primarily by the accessories that it does not have, it would be hard to imagine a more basic and uncomfortable but durable driving machine. Four hours through clouds of dust on the Amazon “highway” in this vehicle with five adults and three squirming children, windows down, was an experience we will not soon forget.

But perhaps my favorite moment of our time here so far was halfway to the waterfall when the clutch pedal assembly on the Bandeirante fell apart at Josh’s feet. We pulled off the road and Josh crawled under the dashboard, emerging a few moments later with a bent bolt about two inches long. The problem seemed to be how to get it to stay in place until he could get home and fix it right. On cue, Brin pulled a first aid kit from under her seat. How about a piece of medical tape? She asked. She opened a sterile package and offered him some kind of special bandage she had brought from her hospital back in Peoria. They would have charged you five bucks for this, she said.

Perfect, he said, and in a few minutes we were on our way again. There is a certain irony in fixing the Bandeirante with a piece of sterile medical tape, but it’s just what Josh and Brin do, and evidence, I think, that they are thriving.

-a glog (guest blog) by Tom Pflederer