Portuguese... making me feel stupider every day.

Tim, Steve and Josh all packed and ready for our first day of school

Brin showing off her command of the perfect-present-subjunctive-reflexsive-gerund verb tense

Brain hurts... can't make words... must stop talking...

The other day I got out of Portuguese class and felt like if I didn't talk for the rest of the day I would be happy. Unfortunatly, it didn't work out that way.

Brin said she feels like she's in college again, she's returned to the habit of sitting down to do her homework with a pencil in one hand a bag of chips in the other. I, on the other hand, don't ever remember feeling this worked over after a class.

Unfortunatly learning about Portuguese is alot like learning about God: the more you know the more you realize you don't know...

A Blog of note

Emily fancher, a shorttermer who has been living with us and helping Brin with homeschooling, has just published a blog that we wanted to make you aware of. She gives a unique perspective on our lives here and we thought some of you might be interested in taking a look. Click here, or under our "links" section to the right.

The Beauty and Tragedy of Salvador

After arriving Thursday, we have had a few days to get to know the city. Salvador is a beautiul city, built on a bluff overlooking a bay. We've learned that the history of the city is linked closely with the slave trade from Africa. The high population of African decendants have influenced the culture, arts and religion. The culture and arts are beautiful, the religion, however, is a convolution of Catholosism and African spiritism. One of the results of this mixing is something called sincrotism, which is essentially combining some of the Catholic saints with an African deity counterpart. for as much beauty that we see in the people and culture here, we have felt a difinite darkness and spiritual heaviness.

Our school starts today. We are excited and anticipating the challenge that lies ahead. Brin said she felt like it was the first day of school all over again (she had her bag packed the night before).

Click here for more pictures...

Goodbye to Beto

The day before we left Altamira, we had to say goodbye to someone very close. My language helper, since coming to Brazil has been a young man named Beto. He has grown to become much more than just my language helper, he has truly become a close friend.

You know how some people just give you the impression that God is going to use them in a big way? Beto is one of those people. Teaching himself English, mostly through a Portuguese-English Bible, he has proven to have more ambition and drive than the average person.

I've also had an opportunity to see Beto's heart for the lost. I've been on several outreach trips with him and experienced the passion and love that he has or people that don't know him. I've seen him deliver impassioned sermons to a handful of villagers, as if he were speaking to thousands.

In a couple weeks Beto will be leaving to study at a university in the south. He will be studying International Relations, and will probably not return to Altamira for 1 1/2 years.

I'll certainly miss my friend Beto, but I'm excited that God will be using him where ever it is that he ends up.

Beto, on the right.

Beto's going-away party.

Arrival

After over 50 hours on a bus, we 've arrived in Salvador. The trip was somewhat smooth (an ironic word to use to describe the roads). We only had one vomitting incident, got stuck only once, and our bus driver was only late twice (for a total of nearly 4 hours).

fortunately we only had to wait for about 10 minutes before our driver got us out of this easily avoidable delay.

Leaving...

Just an update, we'll be leaving tomorrow (Feb. 12, Tuesday) for Salvador at 4 am. Please pray for our journey, a 48 hour bus ride. We will be checking our email once we get there. We plan on returning on March 17th. -Thanks.

The Graduate

Marilda, 21 has graduated from high school. Among her classmates was an Elvis Presley de Santos, or something like that… after hearing his first name I really didn’t pay attention to his last name.

Attending the graduation ceremony was truly a cultural experience. We were happy for Marilda and she was especially happy to be having a ceremony because earlier in the year the students were told there was no money available. Then one day she came to our house and excitedly announced that she was going to go to a planning meeting for a commencement ceremony. It would occur in 5 days.

We showed up at the ceremony at 7:00pm along with Marilda and several other families with graduates from our church, only to find out the time was now 8:00. So we sat down to chat. It became quite obvious that not much was ready and that it would not start at 8:00, so we started to take bets as to what time it would actually begin. I forget who won but finally the ceremony got underway at 8:50. But the main event was not until after the announcement of graduates when the real party started with the graduates serving food to their guests. By then it was well after 10pm, a great time for dinner. Huge trashcans filled with rice, meat and farinha were rolled into the room. The graduates flocked to them and brought back heaping plates. So now I can say I have eaten out of a trashcan (if I ever have the desire to say so).

Graduating from high school is by no means a certainty here. So for Marilda this was more than just a ceremony marking a foregone event. Her abusive father left only a shell of a family when we moved away years ago. You can imagine what her family has since coped with. Her siblings exhibit the scars of years of abuse. Marilda, however, has truly become a new creation since coming to know Christ a few years ago. With more confidence and self-assurance she’s done things she never dreamed of doing before such as going on boat trips, learning to swim and sharing her testimony in front of church. For Marilda, her graduation seems to represent hope for a future she never had before, hope that comes only from Christ and the miracles He’s performed in her life.

Sheyla

Brin had a student in her English class last year named Sheyla. She was raised by her Grandparents and now, in her early twenties, she lives with her older sister. She was intrigued by our church after attending the English school and started attending shortly after.

Last Sunday we had the privilege of watching her get baptized. She has developed a connection with Brin and often just drops by our house to hang out and practice English. We haven't been able to have many deep spiritual conversations with her, but we've certainly observed her as she has become fully involved in our church and displays a genuine love for the Lord. It's exciting to see the limited role we have played in her spiritual life, and makes us wonder about the potential for this to increase as we learn more of the language.

Language School Plans

“Eu aindo estou aprendendo Portugues.” This is a very import phrase. It gives an explanation to people who would otherwise just stare, dumbfoundedly at me. It literally means, “I am still learning Portuguese”. But with it comes the plea, “Please cut me a little slack here, I’m not as dumb as I sound”.

Learning the language has been our main goal thus far in Brazil. We’ve been able to help out with more supportive roles, but being able to speak the language opens up endless opportunities for ministry. Recently we decided to take a month and study the language at a language school. On Feb. 12^th we will be leaving for Salvador, a city in the south where we will be living and studying for a month.

We will be taking Emily with us, who will be helping watch the kids while Brin and I study. Brin still hopes to continue home schooling Ella as well. There are a lot of unknowns about where we are going, but we are trusting that God will use this month to continue to build in us the ability to communicate with the people we came to serve.

For those of you who care about the details… we will be traveling by bus to Salvador, the 3^rd largest city in Brazil. The distance from Altamira to Salvador, approx. 1100 miles, is about the same distance from St. Louis to Key West, FL. However, what takes about 20 hours on US highways is supposed to take us about 48.

Altamira (red star) is about 1100 miles from Salvador (blue star) where we will be studying.

Learning the Ropes

Living here is not for the weak of heart. Last night Josh and I sat outside and commented how comfortable it was. There was a breeze; no bugs or the smell of decomposition that had been in our yard for the past few days. So when we do have moments of comfort, we take note. But still we are here, and now along side us, we introduce you to Emily Fancher.

Our family met Emily when she came down on a work team this past summer with her church, the Vineyard Church of Columbus, Ohio. Emily and I talked about her life, my life and where God was taking us. Then we continued emailing after her return home while, during this time, God was readying her heart for a change. Within 6 months of her first trip, she is back in Brasil this time to stay for a while. She will live with our family, help homeschool, assist at CDR (the English school) and participate in church events.

Emily, second from left, and her work team from OH.
(photo courtesy of www.shutterthink.com)

So, going back to my lead-in, Emily has a tough path ahead. Not that there won’t be fun times, because I do prioritize fun. And not that we won’t laugh, or more often be laughed at, but it is a different way of living here that takes a while to work through. I have warned Emily that there will be unpleasant moments ahead. Stressful days but not stressful in the same way as it is in a fast-paced, time-driven way back in the States. A different kind of stress, like apprehension of the unknowns and situations way out of our comfort zones. For example, we simply do not have the structure or routine here that I would like. Believe me, I tried to make it happen, but God always wakes me up in the morning with something that I had not written on my list the night before. Case in point, Emily’s first week. I made a list of what to do the first week. You’d think I’d give up on lists. Now, the first week has passed and I have gotten about 50% of it accomplished. Pretty good I might say. But the week went hardly as planned. For one thing, Ella developed a horrendous tooth infection which got her out of school, the very thing Emily came to do. And then each morning was busy with various visitors. We had lunch guests every day that week, some expected, others not. So in the midst of busy mornings, Emily just jumped in and made herself useful somewhere. Which is exactly what I needed and I was reminded once again why God brought her to our family at this time. Emily is relaxed, patient, a creative thinker. She is a good complement to me because I am forever panicking as if I’m late for some unknown event or appointment. My kids don’t annoy her (yet) so her behavior reminds me to be more understanding and tolerant as I interact with my children.

A large cockroach has decided to share the room with Emily. For a moment I think, “big deal, be happy it is not a taratula or scorpion,” then I remember my first weeks here when I freaked out because there were holes in the screens, or water pouring down my walls while Mia slept on the floor inches from a puddle forming on the tile. Now, 18 months later, I have no problems with Mia sleeping in a hammock suspended between two trees. My perspective has changed, my “normal” has morphed into something else and my comfort zone has significantly widened. And so will Emily’s, but working through that takes time and effort and is not without challenges.

Abscesses and Stitches

This past week we were struck by two unsuspecting health issues. During church last week Ella started complaining about a toothache. To be honest, we didn’t think much of it, she doesn’t have the best teeth and she had just been to the dentist to have a cavity filled. However, in the morning when the roof of her mouth and gum had swollen to the point of virtually covering her tooth, we took notice. We’ve had her on antibiotics with little response. She doesn’t talk much unless it is to remind us her pain meds are wearing off. So for the past few days Ella has gotten lots of attention and minimal hours in school. Now it’s Mia’s turn.

This morning, Mia and Ava were playing when I heard Mia screaming bloody murder. As I inspected a gash on Mia’s chin Ava explained that all they were doing was playing a game where Mia holds onto the counter and Ava lifts her legs up. Obvious we’re not teaching our kids enough deductive reasoning.

So we hopped in the car, and along with Denise, a Brasilian friend, we were able to experience our first trip to an “Emergency Room.” The first hospital we went to was closed for painting. So we went to a different one that had about 10 people sitting on a bench in the entrance. A trail of blood drops were leading to another room while flies went wherever they pleased. We waited. No one took our names. No one asked about what the health complaint was. There certainly was no asking about insurance. There were no charts to be seen nor did anyone have an ID armband. The phone rang and rang and no one answered it. Then a doctor stepped around a corner and motioned us in. There was no nurse, no secretary, no janitor. Only that one doctor who was sweating because he had a long patient list since the other hospital was closed and apparently had no one to help him. Brin lent a hand. Mia, however, was probably the most miffed by the whole experience. I don’t think she saw what was coming. Two stitches later she’s a little wiser and more leery than ever about any kind of medicine.

You Are the Music in Me

In Belem, we stayed at a hotel where another family from Rio was also staying. And as kids often do, Ella and another girl found each other and became playmates during the stay at this hotel. But despite the vast difference in communication and culture, they quickly found one common denominator (I am a homeschooling mom so I have math on the brain). What is the universal language for 9 year olds? In this case it was High School Musical 2. This girl had the movie (in Portuguese) that Ella had not seen yet but was eagerly anticipating. Ella was amazed and the girl was happy to have someone to watch it with her.

So later we found the movie and justifying that it would help with learning Portuguese, we bought the movie too. Later when we arrived back in Altamira, Cleide and Marilda wanted to see it so we let them invite a few friends and we had a High School Musical 2 party. And for those of you who know the music, and my empathy goes out to you….você e a música em mim.

~BP

To Surubim with the Family

This past weekend I returned to the village of Surubim with some friends, this time Brin and the girls went. Taking the girls reminded me of how primitive some of these conditions are. For the most part they enjoyed our trip, except for the Amazonian “no-see-ums”, little irritating bugs that have a real bite.

A highlight of the trip was talk about a local man being willing to donate land for a church to be built. I’m not sure what the timeframe would be, but it’s exciting to think about being involved in that.

Brin enjoyed this kitchen about as long as it took to take this picture. The stove was fired by wood, the water for washing dishes was a quarter mile away in a dirty creek and the lights were dirty oil burning lamps. Oh yeah, and refrigerated meat is hanging above the stove. At least the bugs didn't like it in there either.

The dishwasher was no Maytag.

The girls, used to plentiful water on river trips, had to settle for this less than desirable stream.

We are told this trip can take anywhere between 3 and 8 hours, depending on the rain. Being at the beginning of the rainy season, these puddles will only get worse.

Part of the frame broke on one of the motorcycles and we had to remove the rear fender. It made for a fun return trip with mud being thrown all over the driver.

On the barge crossing the Xingu River.

Fruit

I don’t know why we keep making the same mistake over and over, but we again arrived at someone’s house on time. This time it was a birthday dinner that one of my friend’s dad wanted to host for me. We were told it started at 7:00, so we stupidly arrived at 7:00. Only my friend’s parents were there. Not even my friend was there. We wondered if we got the message right.

But what began awkwardly, soon became very comfortable and natural, a night I won’t forget. Before we ate the fish his dad had prepared, my friend read a verse and told everyone how much my friendship meant to him. It felt very surreal, like I was being accepted into a club. But more than that, I realized that my friend, Alison, truly felt a connection with me. He wanted to show me that, and I truly felt honored. He went on to thank me for the sacrifice I have made to come and live here.

I often have doubts of my effectiveness. Even as a youth pastor I experienced these doubts. The fruit I so often expected did not always result in the time and way I thought it should. And so often God would reveal in little ways that He was working, that He was in control and more importantly that He is the Producer of fruit. What I saw last night was a fruit basket. And it made me excited to see how God was going to produce more in the future.

Irony

Ronesha (or maybe it was Camila) used to have a cat named Irony. The cat was funny because it got hit by a car and afterwards only walked in circles. The following story is not about her.

In the past month I had conversations/emails with 2 friends, Connie Gregory and a college friend Bethany. Connie is a missionary here in Brazil in a nearby city (nearby being relative) with PAZ and Bethany is working with New Tribes in Indonesia. Both of these women had high, emotion filled hopes of hosting guest houses and then, for various reasons, had to let go of their plans. At the time, I listened but thought it a bit ironic to hear these stories of their departure from guesthouse ministry as I was entering mine. I must admit I really did not empathize completely as I have now experienced a small fraction of the pain they endured. Now just to decide who will be president of the club.

no. maybe. no. well, ok maybe. yes. yeah, i think so. Yes! no.

If you notice things like this, we have had a paragraph at the right of this blog that has asked for prayer about our next housing situation. Wanna know where we are with that? Me too. As it turns out, we are 3 weeks away from when we will need to move and we still have no firm answer. But here is where we find ourselves at the moment and the story that goes with it.

While we were thinking of our options, an obvious solution came to the forefront. The mission’s Guest House, which houses the Kubacki family now, will be empty in February. It is big, comfortable, a hub of activity (can you see why I am interested?) and within the mission compound which kind of gives me a sense of safety. Plus, if we moved in there it would fill a need for the mission, as we understood it. So we thought about it. Talked about it. Discussed it with other people. And I started dreaming and planning for it. As I got more enthusiastic about it we began to put other options aside and starting thinking through the details that would be required of us to live there. Things like what, exactly, are the responsibilities of the guesthouse hosts, what role do we play with foreign teams that come through, and how this will work with our family. So again we talked with more people and got positive responses to the point that we thought it was all a go. We were wrong. Are my tender feelings revealing themselves here yet?

A conversation took place 3 days ago that revealed that the guesthouse is not a right fit for our family. I am heart broken. At first, I was upset that God was steering us in one direction only to frustrate us and send us in another direction. I see now how this whole process shaped us and prepared us for the future here in Brazil, whatever that may be. We gained awareness of our own family’s needs and goals and decided to evaluate our decisions against that. I still know I would have loved the guesthouse and enjoyed taking care of guests, but it is not as simple as that. I am trying to put it behind me because even if money issues worked itself out and other details fell in to place, we now are aware of how living there might induce stress and tensions that we simply do not need in our first term here. So that’s that. But, stink! I am just not sure how to pack up all my enthusiasms and just be ok with moving elsewhere. Yikes, my heart is bruised.

These sentiments are rather reminiscent of when I foster-cared for two little boys about 3 years ago. I knew I would not keep them. But I did dream about what it would be like to love them, take care of their illnesses, raise them up with a secure family and have them prank me with Parent Trap moments (they were twins). But it was all just thoughts and dreams and a short time later I turned them over to another foster family. I had packed away all the schemes I dreamed and nuturings I imagined, only to dust them off feel them all over again, just differently. I guess these sort of disappointments are normal consequences of just plain living and feeling.

Ok, so this is a long post just to say, “we’re not moving into the guest house.” But I wanted to share at a heart level where we have come from and where we are going. As I have trudged through this whole thing I am amazed at how God has been preparing me for this situation. My time and conversations with God in the last 6 months have been about living dependent on the Spirit regardless of what is happening around me. This small, somewhat insignificant (compared over a lifetime) event had the potential for bitterness. My heart could be soaking in sour brine right now. But it is not. I am praying constantly and literally, out loud, telling myself not to let my heart get crusty. And it might be working, with credit not going to me. C’mon people, cheer with me! I do not know for sure where I am going in 3 weeks and I am ok with that! I told you I’ve changed.

So for those of you who have stuck with this long post, here is what is happening. Barring working out details (again with the details?!) we will stay in the home of the Hanson family who is home on furlough. They are a lovely family with a lovely home so I can only heave a thankful sigh in how God takes care of us. We have yet to communicate with them because we have been without Internet for a while (so this blog was actually written earlier and posted later).

More happenings involve the arrival of Emily Fancher! Many of you know the name because you’ve prayed for her and for that I am thankful and also desperate for your prayers to continue because she has yet to get her visa. But then again, maybe she has and I don’t know it. Drat that internet. Emily is 23! Appreciates the arts! Has a calm, gentle spirit! And a tugging in her heart for missions! Her coming brings out the explanation points in me! She is hopefully arriving in Altamira on January 20 and will live with our family. She will help at the English School, help home school Gabriella and Ava (if she can catch her, ha!) and get a hearty helping of Xingu Mission. In the past, Josh has had an influence on young people and their involvement and knowledge of foreign missions. This time it is my turn!

Other happenings involve the return of the Simon family. They will be leaving the states the beginning of Feb. We look forward to having them back and will probably talk their ears off filling them in on the 5 months they were gone. Mia and Anna will go back to playing dress-up together and Ava and Caleb will go back to arguing.

Genuine thanks to those of you who are praying for us. I cannot imagine how messy it would be here without those prayers.

~BZP

A White (sand) Christmas

As we drove into Altamira last night around 8:30 pm, after being on the road since 6:30 am, it truly felt like we had been away for months (it had actually been 15 days). We are excited to be home, but this morning we faced the unsurmountable task of unpacking and getting organized, fortunately today is New Years Eve and we don't have much going on.

I learned from my language instructor a while back that it is common for Brasilians to spend an evening with a friend that has just returned from vacation and look at slideshow of their vacation while they talk about them. I told him where I come from that is a sure way to lose your friends, or at least bore them to death. So, in an effort to acclimate to Brasilian culture, here is my slideshow (cue cheesy music):

Our time on the road was not as bad as our last post may have suggested. I did have to stop a couple times and ask directions, or as the photo records, refer to my map while the girls relaxed at the local convenience store.

About a month before our trip, Brin set goals for each of the girls with a reward that they would get on our trip. After many failed attempts, Ella reached her goal of doing some acrobatic flippy thing, her reward was her very own body board.

Mia surprised us by learning to swim (or more accurately, deciding not to cling to anything and everything that would prevent her from becoming submersed). I'm not sure what was more fun, watching her swim, or watching how proud she was of herself.

The idea of Christmas in a hotel room was a little hard to get used to, but we did our best to set the mood (lights and stockings hung on the TV stand) and stick to our tradition of opening presents on Christmas Eve and stockings on Christmas Day.

The Berquists and Wilsons (two families from our mission) met us at the hotel, they traveled by boat. We enjoyed our time with them and our kids loved the playmates. We did a gift exchange on Christmas Day.

The Berquists had a "snow kit" that made a fake snow look-a-like that our kids enjoyed for about 2 minutes.

Ava's reward for learning to read (or at least making a valiant effort at it) was to visit the butterfly house in Belem. Unfortunatly it was closed for maintenance when we got there. We were able to talk one of the employees into letting Brin sneak Ava in covertly look at the butterflies while hiding from other guests who were walking around outside.

Our room had a bathtub. Let me give a little context to that statement. One of the hardest things Brin knew she was going to give up moving to Brazil was her baths. She loves to take baths, they are her happy little place... or something like that. Anyway, she has gone a year without a bath and was able to enjoy one every night in our room. I was going to snap a picture of her in the bath but she made threats on my life.

A Christmas Adventure

Tomorrow, Sat. Dec. 15^th, we’ll be leaving for a two weeks on vacation. We’ll be traveling to the coast, where we’ll meet two other missionary families and spend Christmas at the beach. Our girls are especially looking forward to it.

Between here and there lies 18 hours of travel, about half of which is on the treacherous and pothole-filled TransAmazon Highway. It’s sure to be an adventure. If you think of us over the next couple of weeks, pray for safety and that our family would enjoy the time we have with each other and our friends. It will definitely be a different kind of Christmas for us, but we are hoping playing at the beach will distract us from the fact that we are so far away from our friends and family from back home. We wish you all blessed Christmas and New Year!

During the rainy season, the TransAmazon Highway can be impassable at times.

The other day I went on what I thought was a day trip to another location in the Assurini. I showed up at Pastor Clenildo’s house, only to find out that we were going to be staying overnight. I rushed home and threw my hammock, clothes, and a few other things in a bag. We were already late for the ferry that, unlike anything else here, leaves promptly at the scheduled time.

Ella went with me, so that always adds to the adventure. It seems like every time I take one of the girls with me on a trip there is at least one time when they have to go to the bathroom “really bad” at the most inconvenient time possible. Ella did not disappoint. I also realized in the rush of packing I forgot a flashlight. Flashlights are essential when going to a place like the Assurini where there is no electricity. It made bedtime an adventure; we had hung our hammocks in a grove of trees so finding our way there after the church service while avoiding the occasional cow pie and roosting chicken proved to be difficult. I made a mental note to never forget a flashlight again.

I don’t eat a whole lot when I go on these trips. Dinner is especially unappetizing because it’s usually just the rice and beans reheated from lunch. I was lying in my hammock after I had tucked Ella in her hammock and one of the guys came up and excitedly told me that dinner was ready (keep in mind this is around 9:30). I politely declined, knowing Ella would not want to be left alone with the eerie sound of howler monkeys and surrounded by darkness. Plus, I was really in no mood for rice and beans.

Waiting for people to arrive for the service.

The family we visited was a follow-up to our last visit to the Assurini. A young man who had been at the TLC retreat invited us to stay with his family and invite his neighbors to a service. About 25 people showed up to watch a film and listen to Clenildo preach. In the morning we were gone, leaving them to their simple, hard lives. I’m not sure if we were just an interesting diversion or if the message we brought will lead to new life. I’m learning that God doesn’t always give us clear victories. And sometimes what he asks us to do will show no results at all, but obedience is required just the same.

Ella cooling off by the family's only source of water

Office Parties and Rustling Leaves

Its beginning to look a lot like the rainy season.

In a sudden gust of wind, the sun-dried leaves that have laid on top of our tile roof rained down on my kids playing in the yard. “It must be fall.” I yelled enthusiastically. When we are in the right mood we get rather playful when the rain clouds and accompanying winds arrive overhead. The girls strip down to their skivvies and run around the yard waiting to be soaked with the rain. That’s Brin speaking here, and for those of you who pay attention, I apologize for my disappearance on this blog. I haven’t been in a blog writing mood.

Everyone in my house is acutely homesick. And anything, seriously anything, that remotely reminds us of home can become either a cause for celebration, as the leaves did. Or ignite a river of tears that feels like the Amazon. I became upset the other night after seeing an office party while watching a movie called The Santa Clause. I was terribly missing all those office Christmas parties from back home that were occurring without me. The new Christmas dress, yummy deserts and the twinkling lights, ya know, all that stuff that goes with Christmas parties. And then on second thought, I realized I never actually worked in an office or attended an office party. I just plain missed home.

You know that you really start missing people when you recognize random friends from back home in your neighbors or people around town. Josh and I find ourselves saying, “Hey, doesn’t that look like Matt except skinnier, darker and less teeth?” So we’re homesick. I’m just sayin’ is all.