The Move and Arrival

I'm sitting in our new house in Manaus, as I write this Brin and Ella are organizing the kitchen.  The girls arrived Monday and we've been unpacking, organizing, meeting our neighbors and making general repairs around the house.  We truly felt God's provision and protection on our trip.  There were a few unexpected surprises along the way, but I suppose I would have been more surprised if things went totally as planned.  

I was able to take a few pictures, so I'll try and let them tell the story...

As the Ana Maria (seen in the last post) took our stuff to Santarem, Allison, Dillon and I traveled in my truck via the TransAmazon Highway.  We arrived on Sunday, one day before the boat and were able to see some friends and meet the boat at the dock Monday morning.  I learned that I would need to hire a small boat (seen above) to take our stuff to the larger boat bound for Manaus. 

We were able to put my truck on the same boat (for no small price).  While in port, I really didn't breathe easy until my truck was on the boat, they waited until the last minute to load it. 

My truck parked amongst travelers on the first of three levels. 

One of the perks of having paid so much to take our stuff to Manaus was that we were allowed access to the air conditioned room.  The trip took about 56 hours, by day two we were pretty tired of sitting in our hammocks.

Occasionally, when it wasn't too hot, we would spend time on the upper deck of the boat.  It was no luxury ship, but with the AC it was definitely comfortable.

We arrived in Manaus just after mid-night the morning of my birthday, Jan. 13th.  We spent the rest of the night on the boat, in the morning we found a truck to take our stuff to the house where we unloaded it for the 5th time since leaving the house on the previous Friday.  In the photo above, Dillon and Allison paint the Cleny's room in preparation for the girls' arrive a few days later. 

Because of the layout of the house (you can see some photos here), all the furniture of two bedrooms and the school room had to be hoisted to the upper level.  This was done by the use of a pulley and lots of heavy lifting.  Most of our furniture is made out of heavy Amazon hardwood.  In the photo above, Allison and Dillon modify a bookshelf to fit in the closet of the girls' room.

Monday morning I picked the girls up at the airport and brought them home to see our new house.

Here Ava is commenting on the size of our tiny yard (about 8'X8').

Mia enjoying the spiral stairs which continue up 3 stories to the roof where we hang laundry.

Cleny and Ella exploring the master bedroom.

Brin and Mia enjoy the view from the roof, most of the windows only have views of the neighbor's walls or roof.

The Move

As I write this, all of our things are on a slow boat traveling upriver towards Manaus.  I'm leaving tomorrow morning for Santarem with 2 friends, Alison and Dillon.  We are taking my truck to meet the boat, transfer our stuff to another boat, and travel along with our stuff and truck to Manaus.  If all goes as planned we'll be arriving on the 13th, my birthday. So far things have been going well.  Here are some pictures for those that are wondering...

We will miss the huge wardrobe that we had been using to hold our home school material (not to mention the spacious school room).  The wardrobe wasn't ours, and after moving our much smaller wardrobe, I'm so glad we didn't have to move the behemoth.

Packing up the kitchen.

Our furniture waiting to be loaded into the truck

We loaded the truck Friday afternoon, Saturday morning we traveled 45 minutes to Vitoria to meet the boat.

Unloading the truck at the port in Vitoria.

Our stuff should be safe in the bowels of the Ana Maria, the next boat from Santarem to Manaus will not be so secure (it will probably be a Line Boat, full of people in addition to cargo).

Feliz Natal 2010

Opening Stockings Christmas Eve night

post by Brin

This being our fourth Christmas in Altamira we have discovered that we have taken on some new traditions that are surprisingly endearing. We make our own Christmas tree and other decorations out of jungle foliage, like açai branches and coconut frawns. We also make homemade donuts on Christmas morning. But other than those things our Christmases have been widely diverse. We recall last years Christmas with the midnight dinner at our neighbors house and Josh just recovering from dengue fever. And Christmas the year before that at the ocean. But this Christmas beats all.

On Christmas Eve day we met up at the Guesthouse and worked with Chelsea and Julia, Patty and the Bergquist family to make the most American meal we possibly could with only ingredients found here. Rice and beans were banned and Brazilian polka music should have been. We ate, played, prayed, sisters bickered, and kids disappeared as soon as dishes needed to be washed. So a pretty authentic family Christmas, I think. Our hearts and tummies were full and we went to bed blessed.

Ava, who has earned the name "Sunshine" because of her early-riser tendencies (and also her hair) was given instruction to not wake us until after 7am. Presents would begin whenever Chelsea and Julia arrived at our house, I informed the kids, so if they got antsy I could blame the delay on Chelsea.

The afternoon progressed with activities at the beach. So many of you had a white Christmas, and while I know you all were so happy with it, I could care less. I got to spend it under the sun in a swimsuit! Some time ago, Josh encountered a lady here in Altamira who owns a kneeboard. A real, fiberglass kneeboard, not one made out of moldy Styrofoam like I envisioned. We rented it from her for the day and stopped by Agostinho's house, filled up our car with friends and off we went for a day of boating. Josh became his Uncle Paul (the Ski Whisperer) for the afternoon and we laughed and cheered wildly for our friends kneeboarding for the first time.  The only break we took was to marvel at what our friend Jhonatan brought to shore. At one point Kelsie looked upriver and saw a strange object floating towards us. It is just a log bobbing in the waves, I informed the jungle-savy girl whose home is right at the rivers edge. Well, it wasn't. And Jhonatan knew it too and took the kneeboard out to rescue a half-drowned sloth! Or at least that is what I assumed, later I was informed that he was probably just fine and didn't need rescuing.

Holidays are the hardest time for expats to be away from home. Skype certainly has diminished some of the sting as I was able to watch my little niece Ziann show me her new lip gloss. For Josh and I, it was especially meaningful to spend our Christmas with Xingu Mission friends that have become family of a different sort.

the only one who was forced to ride on the kneeboard

3 Brazilians and a gringo on top

Allison was eager (and nervous) to conquer the kneeboard, but got confident really fast!

Ella decorated Chelsea's gift using old guitar strings

Remembering Josh's accident from last April, Ella painted this on canvas.

Chelsea and Julia and girls with stockings

For more pictures of Christmas click here

Watch Kelsie's footage of the sloth :

A farewell trip

Preparing for a 3 day river trip

One of our goals for our last couple of months in Altamira has been to spend some quality time with some of our close friends. Clyde and Kelsie's family has been close to us, especially over the past year as we have both been pursuing God's plan for our lives together.  I have been on two significant survey trips with Clyde, and he was part of the group that was looking at starting a new base in a remote area of Amazonas. More recently, we have each seen God lead our families in different directions.  Our excitement for each others new vision is tempered only by the realization that we will not be working together.  

Last week a team of 4 guys from Clyde and Kelsie's hometown of Grant's Pass, OR came to visit them and see their new ministry.  Ella and I were able to tag along on a farewell tour of Maribel, the region where they are now living and ministering.  Maribel has always been our most remote work, the distance making frequent trips difficult.  With Clyde and Kelsie having lived there now for only a few months, I could already tell a growth in some of the potential leaders of that region.  For more on the region you can watch this video that I made on a past trip:

We had a great time traveling downriver in two canoes and visiting the people with whom Clyde and Kelsie are ministering.  One lady greeted us with a huge smile, asking Clyde if he had gotten her message.  Clyde hadn't got it, but after some explanation, he remembered that he had prayed for her when he saw her in the Malaria clinic a few weeks before.  The woman was ecstatic to report that she had been healed!  We didn't have time to stay long at her house, but she begged for Clyde to come back and have a church service.  

It was a bittersweet time for me, realizing I would probably never return, but recognizing that God was already using Clyde and Kelsie to touch peoples lives with the love of our Father. 

Allison and Ella

A typical village on the Iriri River, a few houses made up of members of the same family .

Some of the local women cleaning fish, the Iriri always provides us with plenty of fish and other wildlife.

Ella enjoys the shade of an umbrella with Makenna and Maddy, two of Clyde and Kelsie's four kids.

Clyde shares during a communion service in one of the homes we visit.

Ella and Makenna in the bow of the boat as we approach shore.

We traveled several hours each day in the small canoes, but the view made the uncomfortable benches and hot sun well worth it.

Jungle Adventure

At Brin's suggestion, Ella and I took an overnight trip to our local waterfall. We've gone several times to the waterfall that requires an 1 ½ hour hike, but never have we stayed overnight. After reading a book about jungle expeditions, Ella has entertained wild thoughts of an excursion full of adventure and discovery. Even though we have often found ourselves "camping" in a jungle setting on trips to the interior (is hanging a hammock in a mango tree considered camping?), Ella was convinced that if we were to set off into the jungle and stay the night, nothing but adventure would await us. We invited along Allison and Dillon (a short termer from OH), since they had recently stayed overnight at the waterfall, and off we went.

When we first left the States to come to Brazil we were keenly aware that our decision to leave our home would adversely affect our children in ways we could only imagine. Some of those thoughts have recently resurfaced as we prepare to again wretch our family away from everything that is familiar. But in the midst of these thoughts, we are reassured that with the negatives of being away from family and friends back home, we are able to give our kids experiences that will build in them a sense of adventure, of appreciation for other cultures and what God is doing in the world at large. Another advantage is jungle adventures. What most kids can only read about, our kids are able to experience first had. 

I'm not sure how our foray into the jungle stacked up to Ella's expectations of adventure, but we had a great time. Raman noodles and hot dog chunks never tasted so good. Although we saw no jaguars or anacondas, we did enjoy some stories around the campfire, explored the creek that feeds the waterfall, and played in the waterfall. All of which made me feel a little bit better about the changes Ella will be facing ahead.

Stopping for a rest along the jungle path.

Ella refills our water bottles from the water filter.

lost tooth, lost purse, lost identity

~ Post by Brin

 

Ella lost her tooth this morning at the market. She did it in her pastel (that pastry thing she's eating), how that could happen I don't know. I do consider the market to be a huge blessing in my life.  I can get organic (at least I assume they are) bananas and close to organic everything else. Or so the vendors tell me, if they understood the question. And I can get jungle-harvested cinnamon for toast and cobaiba oil for our bug bites. And I can walk to it if I want in comparison to the 30 minute bus ride I will be taking come February. On a bothersome side note, I could not find my coin purse when I returned home. Guess I know where I left it now (look close).

On Sunday mornings I go to Altamira’s weekly outdoor market. That is if the stars align. Those stars being an empty produce basket, a rainless morning and the willingness to sweat and make simple conversation about Obama with a particular vendor who always searches me out to practice his English. The market is so close to my house I can also walk there in about 15 minutes, but the walk back is mostly uphill and twice now I have forgotten that I was on foot when I bought a giant watermelon, besides having my obnoxiously huge Lands End boat tote running over with mangos, pineapples, kale, green onions and lettuce, my market staples.

Overall, the market suits me. I like a big variety to choose from and it is probably the freshest option for produce in the city. But this morning, something stood at a contrast. I went to the market with an apple in hand and then was annoyed when I wanted to dispose of it, but couldn’t find a trash can. Yes, I could have added my (organic) trash to the smorgasbord of garbage already on the streets;  pineapple tops, chicken feathers, plastic cups, fliers for a motorbike promotion, my core would fit right in. I would fit right in, but I couldn’t do it. I just could not litter even if not doing so set me apart from the other shoppers. I have felt that awkward dichotomy before. It is when the Brazil Brin confronts the American Brin. It also happened when I asked a vendor not to put the carrots in a plastic sack. “I don’t like to waste plastic. That is why I bring a big bag,” I explain opening my bag for her to plop the carrots in, hoping my altruistic respect for the environment rubs off on the other shoppers. I doubt it. I only manage to confuse a few vendors and maybe save about 10 extra bags from blowing freely across our city and mingling with the other thousand bags.  Why do I have to be so weird? I so want to just fit in.  But at what cost?  And when I don’t, which is plenty, why does it bug me so much? Yesterday I went to the orphanage and participated in a skit that required my character to sneeze, it was actually the defining trait of the character (yup, I got an important role). The kids love to laugh at me when I talk because they find my accent so adorable and entertaining. At least that is what I think, I mean, surely that is why they are laughing. I played my part with all the theatricalities I learned in high school. I gave my character the big, “AH- AH- AH-CHOO!” kind of sneeze. A loud, dramatic extended one. Cue the laughter; I am so charming. The skit goes on with audience participation where they have to also do their own sneezing. Now, I knew that animal sounds are different based on what language was being spoken. While in Romania years ago, I learned they do not like the sound Americans use for roosters. But I didn’t know that there was a Brazilian way to make sneeze noises. Well there is and it is much more calm and subtle, more of just a quick, but strong puffs of air through the noise.  A rather pitiful sneeze, I think, but now I feel weird because clearly I am not fluent in bodily noises. And I guess I feel bad, because….I want to be?  Grrrrrrrrr. 

Another such personality showdown occurred last Thursday. Mia participated in her school’s much anticipated and illustrious Festa de Nações, or Festival of Nations. This year we arrived in Altamira too late for Ava to participate and Mia arrived barely in time. I didn’t figure out what country she was assigned until we arrived that night. Based on her costume we were assigned to make we guessed Spain, Italy or Mexico.  We were close, bonus points given because Argentina was colonized by Spain. The invitation claimed the festivities would start at 7:00pm. Silly invitation. The Brazil Brin congratulated her good judgment when she arrived at 7:20, until she surveyed the school and realized that probably 80% of the guests still hadn’t arrived. An hour or so later, the festivities began. This being our family’s second Festa I knew to expect crowded tables, a famine of chairs that make desperate standers steal a chair if it’s owner got up, delays for unknown reasons and the reality that I still didn’t entirely understand what was going on. And you know what?  Neither did anyone else. People wandered around during the program as if it was just a practice, no one rolled their eyes when “Miss Portugal” had to be called to the stage multiple times, and some guests even chatted through the national anthem. I doubt anyone shared my private “let’s get this show on the road!” attitude or at least the degree to which I did. Reflecting this morning, I could have just sat empty-minded and unbothered, but instead I kept standing, double-checking to make sure that Mia’s costume looked like her classmates and wondering when she would need to go to the stage. Seriously, what is my problem? I have been in the culture for 4 years now, how have I not learned how to relax?

It really bugs me that I can’t be me. I mean, yeah, I am ok about giving up the annoying parts of me, or try to do so. I exaggerate, overact, don’t listen well, and am tightly-wound no matter what culture I presently reside and I wouldn’t mind softening those things on both sides of the equator. But I still kinda like me. And sometimes I feel like I spend a lot of effort trying to be something else. My reluctance at being a litterbug and conflicts with my multiple cultural personalities are strange and piddly issues yes, but the feelings in sum bring out something else. I think it has something to do with integrity. I want the Brin on the outside to match up with the Brin on the inside. And I have been taught that Brin should be the same Brin wherever she finds herself, at work on Monday morning or at church on Sunday or at Uncle Duane’s midweek barbecue. And I want to be the real me with whomever I find myself. And maybe that is why I am bothered so much by the discrepancy I see in myself. 

I eventually found a trashcan at the market and next Sunday I will lug my obnoxious bag that bangs into everyone in the crowded aisles. I will also be the only women wearing a visor. Melanoma Brin will always beat out Culturally Appropriate Brin or Fashion Brin.

Each class is assigned a different nation, here is Mia as Argentina alongside another student.

This class was assigned Brazil. I found this group hilarious because they used soccer uniforms for their costume and a dance involving a lot of running and kicking moves to exemplify the nation of Brazil. At least they know who they are, ahem!

Mia did such a fabulous job, you’d never know she got so little practice in and the fact that she was so upbeat and eager speaks well of her ability to persevere and bloom at school despite her parents mostly being clueless. She is quite inspiring. The whole program was really stupendous, credit needs to be given to my girls’ beloved Tia G (to the rest of us Pastora Angelita) who did a bang up job and made it a truly memorable evening for everyone.

Good times with friends

~post by Josh 

Our friends invited us to go camping with them on their "island" along with a group of others from our church.  We are trying to take advantage of every opportunity we have to spend time with friends, so we jumped at the offer.  We have been there before, but that didn't diminish the stark contrast with how I would choose to take a relaxing weekend.  

Our friends are a musical family, so they love to listen to music and play music.  Loudly.  Late into the night.  Fortunately, a rainstorm came through at about midnight and chased everyone into their tents, or underneath the house if they didn't have a tent.  OK, that needs explanation.  A neighbor has a house that sits on stilts, and this being the only shelter, the chickens, dogs and pigs got the boot and about 20 people tied their hammocks to the floor joists to get out of the rain.

So the music was loud, the meals were at odd times, and we left about 2.5 hours later than we were supposed to... but all was forgiven as we enjoyed the wonderful hospitality and kindness of our friends.  

We will truly miss our friends from Altamira.  Will we find such quality friendships where we are going?  How long will it take?  When will we be able to visit our friends here in Altamira again?  All questions in the back of our minds.  All part of letting go and trusting that the God who has called us will be faithful to meet our needs.

Chow time always turns into a bit of a free for all, which even the chickens get into.

Old couches serve as outdoor furniture until there isn't anything left, at which point they probably are used for something else.

Back to the bush

Ella and I and some dog enjoy a moment of quiet.

These things often come together at the last minute.  I learned the night before a visit to Surubim (a bush community where we have been planting a church) that a few members of our team had backed out and there would be room to take Ella.  

It felt like every one of the 5 months that it had been since my last visit.  It was good to catch up with some of the believers there... not much changes in jungle life though.  We were able to participate in a service in a new area, about a 10 minute drive down the road from our normal location.  And we spent some time with some of the main leaders.

Since I'm leaving in January and Alison (my ministry partner in Surubim) will probably be starting college, we've been talking about a couple different options of how to maintain support for the leaders in Surubim.  I know that God has a plan, He has been working so vividly in lives there.  The little group of believers have even taken it on themselves to start construction of a structure for them to meet in during the rainy season.  Please be in prayer for the small group of believers in Surubim, and especially the main leader Carlinha.  

Watching a soccer match with the locals.

Ella cools of with a "shower", the creek was dry so we had to settle for hauling buckets up from the well to clean and cool off.

Alison and I spend some time discipling a few of the leaders, Carlinha is in the middle.

Ella was thrilled at the chance to play her guitar during an actual worship service.  Expectations are very low and not many people would catch a goof up, so I thought it was a great opportunity for her.  Here Ella and Alison are practicing while a few curious onlookers watch their every move.