Epiblogue: The Artist and the Writer...

I don't think that I could express in words how much I have enjoyed writing this blog. There have been very few things that would be defined as "work" that I have actually enjoyed doing lately. I forgot how much I loved writing when I was in High School. The last time that I thoroughly enjoyed writing something was probably my senior English paper on the scientific fact existing and lacking in Peter Benchley's Jaws. Since that time I had been enrolled in college courses that was either business writing, which is extremely dry; or writing on topics that didn't interest me in the least bit. When you write for an assignment, your personal style often has to take a back seat to grammar, fact and detail. It's very difficult to express who you are and your own personality in a paper on William Shakespeare's Midsummer's Nights Dream, unless of course you happen to be a mythical horned woodland creature.

Writing this blog has been a reminder to me how expressive of self that carefully constructed written thoughts can be. It can give a real sense of how one truly feels about a particular issue as well as relay what exactly they find interesting and humorous. In order to make this assignment work for myself, I needed to put myself in it. I couldn't simply just state the facts and report on the black and white. Life isn't black and white, and if anyone has ever seen the movie Pleasantville you will remember how boring life was in that little town until some "color" begins to be introduced. Once color is added to something, it seems as a life is brought into it. Everybody has a favorite color, and while you may not be fond of green there is no use arguing that green isn't red. Green is green.

Writing with color is a lot like painting with color. Artists use their own personal styles that are all unique. I may not like Picasso and may love Monet, but that crazy artist's paintings are going to hang in museums around the world regardless of my feelings about his style. Writing with color isn't writing with verbose language that fills pages, but more using the page as a type of canvas to really reflect what you are tyring to say. When the artist finishes a painting the way he wants, he doesn't continue adding to it. The work is done. Color and style are what makes it beautiful, not its size or the number of objects portrayed in it.

While I am thankful to the many who have complimented me, or commented about the blog, I probably would have been equally as happy with my work if no one had read it or said anything about it. I did it for myself. I enjoyed writing it and I looked forward to the next time I would post. If others enjoyed it as well, then that was a bonus in my mind. I wanted to make sure that people had a way to know what was happening down in Brazil, because there was so much going on. I had no idea how it was going to go, if I would stay diligent in doing it or if I would truly regret my decision to begin it in the first place. At the time I started writing this, I wasn't planning on making a second trip later in the summer. I had hoped that Mark or Lori would pick up where I left off with the writing. The "canvas" had other plans and from the moment I wrote the very first line of my very first post I was cranking away at the keyboard with a smile on my face.

I would like to again thank everyone who has been supportive of this effort. It was a lot of work, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I have set up a second blog address alexrlawson.blogspot.com, and hope to begin writing shortly. I won't post anywhere near as much as with this one, but I figured that if I would enjoy writing about something, then I should write about it. Who knows, maybe there will be a natalbrazil2008.blogspot.com sometime in the future. Until that point, the final brush stroke on this not so masterful work of art has been made. It has been real. Real fun, real exciting and real eye opening. Thanks again to everyone...

Home...

The last thing that one wants to do after sitting on multiple planes for 14 hours is to sit on something actually more uncomfortable than a coach seat. The wooden bench that rested in the center of the Terminal C pick-up location was an uncomfortable, yet welcome resting place for me as I waited for my mom to pick me up. It had taken me nearly 10 minutes to lug the 160 total pounds of luggage out of the airport and to the second island from the door. Around 10 minutes later, the beige Mazda pulled up and parked in front of me. I hoisted my two large suitcases into the trunk and got in the passengers seat.

Fenway was there waiting for me. I could tell that he had grown in the three weeks that I had been gone, but I could have easily been mistaken because of his extremely bushy coat of hair. He rested at my feet as we made the drive back home talking about my flight, my trip in general and the fact that Mark and Lori were still in São Paulo. I was excited to get back to my house and see my room, which had been carpeted about two weeks earlier. When we finally pulled into the driveway, I saw my car now parked in the space previously occupied by my sisters Corolla. I had been trying hard not to think about the fact that she wasn't going to be there anymore. I on the other hand, had dug my roots deeper by spending a lot of money to renovate my room.

I dragged the suitcases up the two flights of stairs to my room. The carpet looked awesome, and felt so soft under my feet. I had never had a soft carpet before, and the tattered and torn indoor/outdoor carpet that had previously been there was gone for good. I managed to unpack and sort through the huge stack of mail that was piled on my desk. Its always an adjustment to return home after being away. Sometimes you are glad to be back, other times you are not.

Regardless of your feelings, there is just something almost mellowing about going back to everyday life. Most days for me are just a regime that at the end of the day, really doesn't hold much meaning. It was now time to really buckle down and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. This summer had been a whirlwind of emotional activity, and I had always been looking forward to the next step. The summer was over, and as far as I knew there were no planned "next steps". What happened next was my decision, but I wanted to make sure I used what I had seen and learned in Brazil in whichever direction my life may lead now. Knowing me, I'm sure I will continue reflecting on everything and I will be better off because of it. I'd love to go back and see my friends there and help again in the future, but for now I was home...

An Airborne Strain of Dengue...

Around the time I was boarding United Flight 860 to Washington D.C., Mark, Lori and the family was wandering around São Paulo airport trying to collect the 8 bags that they had checked. Since they would not be leaving Brazil until the next evening, all of their bags would be their responsibility. They rummaged through the bags until they had obtained enough clothing to get them through the next day, and then found a storage location in the airport to leave their belongings rather than hauling them to the hotel only to bring them back again.

Even though none of the fiasco was the fault of TAM Airlines, they still felt bad for the family and gave them a free hotel and free meals for the following day. It turned out that they had not missed the flight, but had just been too late to be considered for it. Continental, lacking God given wisdom, had oversold all of the flights for the following few days, and they had simply made the check-in cutoff time the determining factor of who would make or miss the flight.

They checked into the hotel and went to bed shortly afterwards. Uncle Mark spent the majority of the next day in bed, while Aunt Lori and the kids used the time to explore a microscopic section of the thriving metropolis of São Paulo. Mark was very bummed to be leaving Brazil, and his his feelings were apparent in his demeanor and his actions. The family had done the wise thing by leaving him alone for the day and by the time came to leave for the airport the next night they didn't know what to expect.

They got to the airport early and proceeded with the check in process. Aunt Lori had begun to feel a little bit sick that day and it had progressed in pain as the hours had worn on. By the time she was nestled into her seat on the 767 she began to have the tremendous pain behind her eyes that indicated she probably had Dengue fever. There are different strains of the virus, some have severe nausea (Case: Caroline), others have category six migraine headaches (Case: Me) and others effect the body in other ways. One thing is for certain, no matter what strain of the virus it is, you would never want to endure it cramped in a coach seat on an aircraft.

As the seemingly endless flight wore on, Lori's symptoms got worse. The pain behind they eyes increased, slight nausea ensued and she just wanted to lie down. A grumpy Mark, sick Lori and tired Caroline and William arrived in Newark that morning and made their way through customs without any problems. The flight from New Jersey to Boston was short, but the exhausted and likely sore group just wanted to get home. They collected their bags and then waited for my father to pick them up. In case you are wondering if I am still waiting for my mother, you need not worry I have been home for almost 24 hours by this point.

I got a call from my dad shortly after that saying that they were home and very tired. Lori spent a lot of the day in bed. Her headaches had been bad, but she was feeling a lot better by the time I talked with her later that night. Uncle Mark had slept the majority of both flights, and hadn't even really noticed that she had been ill. Like a hibernating bear, he had returned beneath the sheets when he arrived at home. The kids had already missed two days of school at this point, and spent much of the time that they were awake preparing for the start of a new year at Covenant Christian Academy.

Seeing it had been a pretty major adjustment for me when I returned from Brazil the first time I can only imagine how difficult it would be for someone who was returning after an even longer extended period of time. They had both felt useful doing what they had been doing. Mark had finally found something that he really enjoyed doing, and a group that he loved working with. The fact that he had been doing something for God and God's people made it even more fulfilling in his mind. The amount of things that Lori had done had been extremely encouraging, and when you are so used to encouragement, the now "lack thereof" is even more depressing. It was going to be a major adjustment for them, even more so than first going to the distant country. There was going to need to be an unknown time period of transition or as Aunt Lori called it, a debriefing...

First United, Then Alone...

Once again my eyelids fluttered open to face a white pillow, but this pillow was not large, soft or down. This was a measly airline pillow that had a freshly washed and de-static cover over the cotton balls that made up its entire existence. My rear was hurting and the window next to me was rattling. It was a common occurrence to have my rear end hurting while seated in an aircraft. In fact I can not remember a single instance in the past two years that my butt has not been sore after a flight longer than 45 minutes. I tried to readjust, but apparently United gives less room than Continental in coach. If I had opted to purchase the "Economy Plus" ticket I could have gotten the extra 5 inches of room for the previously mentioned $109 extra. I wasn't about to spend more than I would normally spend on an entire hotel room for a measly 5 inches of space.

After several adjustments I fell back asleep, and after another several sore awakenings we were almost in Washington D.C. Breakfast was served so fast. I scoffed down the meal and remembered that I still had to fill out a customs slip. They had run out of the English version, so I used my new friends form as a guide and filled out the Portuguese immigration form instead. I was becoming quite the pro at international travel. I had not even finished the form before we had touched down on the ground. The woman in front of me was complaining again to the flight attendant, and I just wanted to tell her to shut up and understand the fact that this is in fact "coach" not first class. If she wants a seat with no problems, next time choke up the extra $6,000 for a ticket. We finally disembarked, and my Canadian friend and I went our separate ways, bound to meet again since we were both on the plane to Boston.

The immigration line was slow, but I made it through and cleared my cashews and the and $750 worth of product I was bringing across for Lori. I rechecked my bags on to Logan International Airport, and then walked through the airport until I found the appropriate gate. There were several familiar people that had been on the flight from São Paulo including the Canuck. I was fortunate enough to be seated in the very first row of the plane, after first class of course. This was an emergency row. Even though United had not served me my Wheaties that morning, I felt that I could complete the necessary functions should the aircraft be put into a state of turmoil. I didn't know exactly what I would have needed to do had we gone down over Chesapeake Bay, since the instructions were in the "seat back in front of us". Since the only thing in front of us was a big black flight attendant named Steve, there were no instructions. This would probably doom the remaining survivors of the flight had any problem arisen.

The flight was relatively uneventful. Even though my Canadian friend and I had been reunited, his seat was toward the back of the plane. After we landed, I was the first one off so I never saw him again. I hope his catering for 3,500 Irving Oil employees goes well this upcoming weekend. I called my mother and told her I had landed, then quickly phoned Uncle Tim to make sure he knew that he wouldn't have pick up Mark and Lori that day. My bags were just coming out of the tunnel when I arrived at the baggage claim. I only hoped that my mother would be as punctual as the suitcases had been. Even though the bags weight 70lbs each, I didn't have enough singles to spring $3.00 for the push cart. Is it just me or have they raised the price on those things? It took me nearly 10 minutes to carry the ridiculously heavy bags out to the curb, where I sat on a bench and waited for my mom to arrive...

The Continental Divide...

Lightning lit up the sky next to the plane as I stared out the small pillow shaped window. Rain was falling quite heavily as we made our decent into São Paulo. With each flash of lightning or flicker from the strobes on the wings, the raindrops illuminated to give the outside air a nightclub appearance. William and Caroline were getting restless in the seats next to me, and an announcement had just been made that we were in a landing pattern due to a problem on the runway. Knowing the safety problems that TAM often has, one can never be too sure if a runway problem is a burnt out light bulb or an aircraft explosion.

We finally landed at about a quarter to eight. My flight wasn’t until 10:10 so I was not worried about missing my plane. Mark and Lori’s Continental flight was set to leave at 9:20, so I suggested that the allow me to wait for my bags alone and maybe I would catch up with them later. They told me they would wait for a few minutes with me, and I wasn’t going to put up an argument. William kept both his bulging eyes glued on the conveyor belt as the same small green bag went around over and over again. Soon some boxes marked fragile followed suit of the canvas bag, and I joked with the kids that they were human organs on their way to a transplant candidate. My joke ended however when a single man scooped up all the boxes and made off with them out the door.

Just when they were about to leave me with a cell phone and head off to check in for their flight, the first of my two bags made an appearance. It was the blue one packed full of cooperative products. It was so packed so tightly that it had began to tear at the seams. I began to wonder if it was going to make it back to the states in one piece. The green bag soon followed, and we were on our way to our respective ticket counters. The plan was to check in and then meet up at the departure gates. They headed off to concourse D, while I headed in the opposite direction to A. The line was empty, which was a shocker for an airport that is normally bustling with activity no matter which hour of they day you are there. I checked in, and learned I had no seat assignment, and that I would need to be at the gate at 9:25 in order to obtain my assignment for the 10:10 flight. The plane would board 30 minutes prior to departure.

I walked briskly through the concourses until I arrived at the Continental desk. I could see from a distance that there was a grim look on all faces, and a genuine look of disgust plastered on Caroline. “What’s going on?”, I said to them as I rolled my carry on bag up to where they were standing. They informed me that they had missed their plane. I checked my watch. It was only 8:30, and their plane didn’t leave for 50 minutes. The attendant was in the middle of telling them and two other passengers that they stop checking people in 1 hour prior to departure. I thought to myself, “OK so they were five minutes late. There is still time to get them moving if you do it right now”.

The man informed them that the line to the International Police was too long and they would not make it. My eyes peered around the corner and scanned the security line. There weren’t even two people waiting in it, and part of me wanted to tell the guy to please have his cataracts removed ASAP. Since this was not my airline I kept my mouth shut. There would be no traveling for Mark, Lori, Caroline, William, the Matthew McConaughey looking gentleman or Mr. Texas Drawl himself. All of them would be stuck in São Paulo until at least the next night. It was then that they would be able to depart for the US, if there were any available seating of course.

What stunk for them is they needed to lug the nine suitcases and five carry-on bags that they had between them from the airport to the hotel and then back to the airport the next day. I stayed with them as long as I could, but I still needed to be assigned my seat. I gave them all hugs goodbye, and then turned and left. I was on my own in a great big airport in a city of almost 17 million people. Mehhh…who am I kidding...I loved it! I love traveling alone. There is just something about strolling through a strange airport pretending you know where you are going, when you really don’t have a clue. You can still feel like a big cheese though right?

I made it through security and the International Police relatively quickly and found myself at the United gate at 9:23. They had not yet given out the assignments, and as luck would have it, I would be the last one to get one. I boarded the plane after they checked my carry-on bag for the third time and found my seat. Coincidentally it was next to a man I had been talking to in the security line. He was a chef who owned a catering company in Fredericton, New Brunswick, and he had just started dating a girl from Brazil. We talked for a while as the plane sat on the runway waiting to depart. Topics ranged from women to Canada to food to Brazil to the United States to the best way of using air miles. He was very friendly and I was thankful I wouldn’t be squished next to some hag on this full 10 hour flight.

I may not have been next to a hag, but I sure was in back of one. This woman complained about everything. “My tray won’t go back up. My milk is too cold. The movie is too loud.” On and on and on she would go. After watching a movie of my own, and silently wishing that the flight attendant would sedate the wench in front of me, I put my pillow against the window and managed to fall asleep. You got to love narcotics when they help you do something you were never able to do before, sleep on a plane…

Could Brave Young William Be Afraid of a Little Lightning?

Frankly My Dear, I Don’t Give a TAM…

Uncle Mark and I drove with Salomão in one of his cars toward the airport. The ride was quiet for the most part. I was disappointed to be leaving, but I could tell that Uncle Mark was really upset. He didn’t want to go home, and he had been dreading this point all summer long. His feelings were just like the words of the Carrie Underwood song “they’ve been dreading this moment all summer long, the night before life moves on”. We arrived at the airport long before Luciano, which was odd seeing he had left before us. We bid farewell to Salomão and Cintia as we loaded he eleven suitcases on to carts and wheeled them into the baggage check area of the terminal.

Luis, Lillia, Dona Nier, Pietro, Neto, Paula, Liese, both Lucianos and their families were all there to see us off. We spent a great deal of time in the ticket line with Aunt Lori trying to talk the ticket agent into letting them check the bags all the way through to Boston. After a long time, and a lot of fast spoken Portuguese, she seemed to have made progress in getting ten of the bags checked through Boston (or so we thought). The remaining bag had to be a carry on, despite a feeble last ditch attempt to shrink wrap the smaller bag to another small bag to create one.

After the baggage check was completed, everyone rode up the escalator to the restaurant where we would all eat our “last supper” together. I had already went up a little bit before to stock up on a months supply of Synthroid, since my prescription had run out and I would not be able to get a doctors appointment before Friday. We ate a good meal together. It was the first I had eaten since I had first gotten sick almost 36 hours before. As we exited the restaurant I heard them calling our flight number for boarding.

We quickly said our goodbyes at the terminal gate, each of us getting to hug each other. Liese said how much her view on Americans had changed since she had met us, , Patty, Maria and Melissa. Everything she had seen of Americans on the Communist News Network (CNN) and other media outlets, as well as what she had experienced from visiting tourists in the area had showed her nothing but stupidity and selfishness. Now she understood that there were more out there than the Hollywoodites and the liberal media hordes. She had first expressed this to Lori on Friday, and then to Mark on Sunday night. When she had told Mark her opinion on American’s had changed since she met him he had turned around and said to her, “well my opinion of Germans has changed since I met you”.

Liese is from the southern part of Brazil, which is an area frequented by Italian and German immigrants. She had been raised speaking only German, and didn’t begin to learn Portuguese until the age of 14 years old. She was commended to missionary work and left the southern states to head to Rio Grande de la Norte, where she has been working in Natal for several years. She opens her house to women who need a place to board, and does a fabulous job being hospitable to anyone in need of a meal or anything that she can possibly do for them. Most of the men and women who have been working on the hall for the past few months would either be fed lunch by Liese or Lilia each day.

I said goodbye to Neto, who was probably the one person I had gotten the closest to during my six weeks in Brazil this summer. He was sad to see me go. He spoke better English than I spoke Portuguese, so we were able to communicate on a better level than I could with other people. I had given him my NLT Life Application Study Bible that I had purchased for myself. After he had looked through it I could see how impressed he was by it, and asked me where he could get one. I decided that I would give him mine and pick up a new copy for myself at CBD, since their sale was the same weekend I got home. I put a little inscription in the front page, with my E-mail address in hopes he would keep in touch.

The way I had given it to him probably wasn’t in the most gracious and time sensitive moment possible. During my bout with Dengue, in a moment of what could have come across as delusional, I held the Bible up in my hand like a children’s Sunday school sword drill. Poor Neto probably thought I was using the Book to call on God for help, but I finally had put it in his hand, and a big grin had spread across his face. I would miss him a lot. I hoped that he and Paula would manage to visit the states sometime, even if I did plan on visiting them again in Brazil.

After our goodbyes were complete, we hustled through the security check point. Lori was stopped for who knows what, as they searched her purse. Item after item was removed, and I was getting a mental picture of Mary Poppins when a lamp, birdcage and a sofa were pulled out of her small carpet bag. Finally the man just let her go after he had removed everything and still not found what he was looking for. They had made a final boring call announcement for the plane, and we quickly found our way to our seats. I had a window seat, with William in the middle. I actually managed to fall asleep rather quickly on the flight, partly in thanks to my medication.

After I woke up about halfway through the trip to São Paulo, I had a feeling that I should check my baggage stub. My bags should have been checked all the way through to Boston, but the airport code printed on the sticker read GRU. I needed to pick up two extremely heavy bags in São Paulo and recheck them. One thing is sure about that TAM airline, nothing is ever an easy process with them…

One End of Our Giant Lunch Table

The Other End of Our Giant Lunch Table

The Young Boys Belonging to Luciano Two, Luis and Luciano One

The Little Angels Go Bad

Saying Goodbye

Goodbye Falling Brick Road...

My eyelids fluttered open shortly before six o’clock and I found myself staring in the exact same spot that my pupils had fixated against when they first closed around midnight the night before. I hadn’t woken once, and the position of my body made it evident that I hadn’t moved either. The once throbbing feeling I had in my head was replaced by a light buzzing. It was nothing too severe and nothing that I hadn’t experienced before. I got out of bed and was surprised to see that William was not in the bed next to me. Hearing some noise from the kitchen I made my way down the stairs and found Uncle Mark cleaning the dishes in the sink.

We had a busy morning a head of us, and while Uncle Mark washed the cars and packing, I caught up on the blogs that I had neglected during the time I was ill. After I was caught up, I finished packing myself. Salomão had stopped by the house to lend us his car. Lunch with him had been cancelled the previous day due to Aunt Lori being at the hospital with me. He had went to the church the night before to see the progress and told Mark that he would be more than happy to give us a ride to the airport. He left us his car with us so Uncle Mark and I could bring the two Gols back to the rental place.

We had two damaged hubcaps and two tickets on our record for the three months of car usage, and although the language barrier was there we managed to get a clear message with the attendants.

NOTE: As I am writing this a rude woman just put her seat back and whacked the screen of my computer. We are still supposed to have our seat backs up.

We returned to the house on Lobster Road, where bricks had fallen, alarms had screamed, water had flooded, a pool had turned a dull gray and where a Gamba would frequent nightly. Luciano, his wife Rosa, son Lucas and another friend were waiting for us when we returned. Solomon arrived to take us to the airport, the suitcases were in the Comvee and now it was time to say goodbye to Inacia. This goodbye was very emotional. Lori had saved her from a hostile relationship with her other employer, and she felt like her family was leaving her. We all hugged and prayed, then loaded the Comvee and other cars to head to the airport. This would likely be the last time we would ever be at the House on Lobster Road, also known as the House of Horrors...

Ciao Familia Procopio...

I am not sure if Saturday night never ended or if Sunday morning never began. The majority of the following events seemed like an eternal blur to me. They felt never ending, but I am still unable to recall them. The night had dragged on, with me feeling immense pains in my head that I had never felt before. I didn’t think such feelings were possible without ending in death, and with each twinge of pain that shot through my central nervous system I would utter a moan.

These grumblings had awoken Aunt Lori several times throughout the night. She had come down to check on me and was trying to talk me into a visit to the emergency room. I didn’t really want to go to the hospital for a measly headache, but by the time the sun began to rise I had a slight feeling of nausea in my stomach. Rather than suffer the never-ending bout of vomiting that Caroline had experienced, I decided a trip to the Emergency Room was necessary. By 7:00 Aunt Lori had pulled in front of the hospital where Hernique, one of the elders in the assembly, works. He was on duty and immediately escorted us to an empty exam room. I was immediately hooked up to an IV and given liquid to combat dehydration and medicine for the pain.

The medicine made me slightly drowsy, and allowed the pain to subside enough to let me leave my head in one place for an extended period of time. I took 20 minute naps for the remainder of the morning. The diagnoses was that I likely had Dengue Fever, the same illness Caroline had earlier that week. They gave me more of the appropriate medications to combat the pain. I really wanted to feel better so I could go to the hall that night to say goodbye to everyone. I was given several more narcotics, and then sent me home around 2:00 with prescriptions to fill at the nearby pharmacy. We got the drugs and made it home before 3:00. I tried to take a nap, and managed to doze off now and then, but I was still experiencing a great deal of pain. I had my share of headaches in the past, but they have always been at least alleviated by some sort of medication.

By the time 6:00 rolled around, it was clear I was not going to make it to meeting, at least not with Mark and the kids who were leaving right then. Aunt Lori was still exhausted from the night before, so she was going to rest and then make it to the hall by 8:00. Even though I knew the chances were slight, I hoped I would feel a little better by then. Neto had come over to stay with me and help me out while they were all gone to meeting, and it was now official that I would be staying home. He was a good nurse, getting me water or ice or whatever else I needed at any particular time. I would keep putting my head under the shower to take some of the pressure off, and I could seem to get another 20 minute nap after each soak.

This continued throughout the evening while the others were at meeting. Meeting had gotten started late that night. Everyone was given the opportunity to get up and say goodbye to Mark, Lori, Caroline and William. One by one they started getting up and even Caroline got up to say “thank you” for making them really feel like they were part of their family. I was really upset that I missed it. After Luis spoke that night, they had a goodbye party for everyone in the back of the hall. All the women had cooked up their best dishes, and everyone stayed and visited until nearly 11:00. They were going to miss us all and it is quite clear that we are going to miss them just as much.

By the time they returned at 11:15, Luis was with them. He was going to give me some sort of sedative to get to sleep seeing that I was so exhausted. I waited around for a little while, while he reviewed the boxes of medicine I had already taken. I decided that it was more comfortable to just wait in my room for him. I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. Apparently the only sedative I needed was the sound of Luis and Neto talking in Portuguese because I fell asleep almost immediately…

A Little Piece of Heaven...

I could tell something wasn’t quite rite with me early that morning, but I thought my irritability was due to a lack of sleep. Most was forgotten however once the two buggies were loaded and heading south. Caroline, William and I had Junior as our buggy driver, while Mark, Lori and Inacia rode with Washington. Uncle Mark had decided to give my idea of listening to an Ipod while riding a try and was now realizing how great this new experience was.

Our first stop, although we never actually stopped, was the biggest cashew tree in the world. This plant, though not tall, had grown to be the width of at least four city blocks. It had a genuine case of gigantism and due to this disease kept growing more and more each year and yielding more and more cashews. While a high product yielding moneymaker like this plant would be seen as a positive thing in most areas, an unstoppable growing historical plant is not something you want in the middle of a city.

After driving by the tree we stopped at Dolphin Cove, a point on a cliff that overlooked a little bay where dolphins and tortoises frequented. Aunt Lori shopped for more product by sorting through what some vendors had to offer. Three dolphins made an appearance before we headed out, and it wasn’t long before our buggys were on the beach and headed to Pipa. The ride was very relaxing, especially with the constant breeze and sea spray getting shot up from the sand by the tires. Then the buggys stopped.

We were at a small grotto cut into the rocks by the perpetual beating of the waves on the rocks. I decided to be adventurous and crawl inside the small opening. Underneath was an entirely different world. Natural sea waterfalls cascaded water into pools. Wave after wave would crash against the other side of the grotto. I got on my stomach and slid into a different area with William following close behind me. Washington told us it was time to go, so we headed back. This time we crawled on our stomachs under a very small space that was almost enough to give me claustrophobia. Aunt Lori joined us in our journey out, and told us that this was how the entrance to the Great Pyramid in Egypt was.

We made a few other stops along the way, including one at a beach sinkhole for some pictures, before getting on a ferry to cross a lagoon. In 1924 the area where we had crossed had been a city that was built between a fresh water lake and the Atlantic Ocean. A huge rainstorm had cause the lake to overflow and the two bodies of water had quickly become one. We reached the other side, disembarked the boat and headed to find some lunch.

Uncle Mark referred to the place as “a little piece of Heaven”, and it is exactly what it was. Where we were had to be one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen. Lush plants made up the coastline, with a white sandy beach and Caribbean blue/green ocean. The restaurant was under a thatch roof with a natural beach sand floor. We sat and ordered a drink, and then William and I went to the ocean while the food was being prepared. There was a sandbar off shore and we decided to make our way out to it. The water was only four feet deep at most) but the current was pushing very strongly toward the shore. This made the walk long and difficult. We finally made it, and William spent the next few minute collecting shells. The way back was much easier seeing as we simply had to lie on our backs and float only using our feet as rudders to bring us in the direction we wanted.

We ate a delicious seafood lunch on the beach. It was relaxing to just sink your feet in the sand and feel the grains between your toes. After lunch was complete it was back to the ocean. It was at this point that I should have realized something was wrong with me. It had to be close to 85 degrees outside, but I had a severe case of goosebumps and a dip in the bathtub-like water didn’t help matters. I went back to the hammocks and laid down in one to read a book for a little while.

We then headed back with still a relatively full agenda before us. Aunt Lori wanted to get to the small shopping town of Pipa, and Caroline and William still wanted to ride some dunes. William and I partook in some photo opportunities before arriving at Pipa, and it was about the time we arrived at the small town that it hit me like a force of 1,000 cannons. The dreaded headache had returned. I had managed to keep their appearances to a minimum this trip, but this one started like none of the others ever had. Sharp constant pain was felt in all areas of my skull. After Aunt Lori finished shopping for product, we crossed the lagoon again and headed for the dunes.

I didn’t want to rain on anyone’s parade, so I told Junior to do the dunes as he normally would, even with my pain. I am sure the kids appreciated this, and we even stopped to jump off the dunes down an extremely soft sandy hill. The sun was starting to set at this time, and even with the pain I was feeling I could still appreciate how beautiful it looked setting over the dunes of Rio Grande de la Norte. I kept my eyes closed for the remainder of the trip home.

When we arrived back at Lobster Road I felt a little better. I got some work done for the next day, and then William and I watched a movie and prepared for bed. I thought I was just overtired, but as the hours of the evening wore on, and the pain in my head got significantly worse, I knew that something was not right…

Up to My Knees in Quick Sand

William, Get Out of the Sinkhole Now

Caroline and I in the Buggy

Some Cliffs By Dolphin Cove

Crawling Through the Grotto

William and I in the Grotto

Aunt Lori Escapes

Crossing the Lagoon Over the Old Sunken City

Uncle Mark Pondering

Me on the Cliff

William, I Said Don't Look Down

Everything is a Go

William Meets the Goats

Mark Taking a Snooze After Lunch

What a Place to Eat Lunch

William and Caroline on the Road Again

Alex Lawson and William Procopio Star in Cliffhangers II

Help, I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up

The Sun Setting Over the Dunes

One Last Thrill Ride

Goodbye Gambas...

By the time I finished doing my morning activities on Friday, it was cloudy outside. I was not surprised seeing that lately my plans seemed to fall apart left and right. I had no idea what the schedule for the weekend was and I just hoped the weather would be good enough for me to be able to sit in the sun for a little while. I spent the morning reading in my room. William had overslept, something I knew would happen, and didn't wind up going to the Planalto with his father. I needed to get there that afternoon in order to pick up my order from the co-op and keep my promise to play baseball with Filipe and Junior.

Aunt Lori spent most of the morning on the phone trying to get things settled in Victoria, another one of the Brazilian cities she does a lot of work in. She had succeeded in her plans for the morning, and by the time lunch rolled around, I was surprised that Uncle Mark was nowhere to be found. He had decided to stay with the guys for his last lunch in the Planalto. This left the four of us to partake in some sort of fish stew, which wound up being the best lunch I had eaten here yet. Aunt Lori decided to use the lunch circumstance to call a family meeting of sorts. Caroline was anxious to get the meeting started and kept saying "can we start" as her mother was serving us our meal.

It was beginning to get annoying, and finally William spoke up. This was something I had been waiting for him to do since Caroline started asking her repetitious question. In response, he mumbled just so I was barley able to hear him. The line was classic William. "Shees Caroline, it's not like we are electing a president here." His mother didn't hear him, and she was probably wondering why I was laughing so hard at the table. The meeting finally commenced. We decided we were going to pack most of the belongings that day, and then take the next day to go to Pipa in buggys. I hadn't been south of Natal yet, so the idea intrigued me.

After lunch and the meeting was over we began getting our things in order. After about an hour and a half, William and I had most of our room packed up and ready to go. We had also loaded the car with things to bring to the hall and to bring to Inacia's house. I began getting anxious, because it was almost 4:00 and we still hadn't left. In a place where the sun sets at 5:20, you don't want to be getting to the Planalto at 5:00 and keep your promise to a couple 13 year-olds for a measly 20 minutes. Finally, with no room in the car to move, we were heading to the high plain of Natal. I got there and was shocked to see a such large number of people working on the hall. There are usually helpers, but I don't think I had ever seen that many people there at one time, other than meeting of course.

Some were scrubbing tiles, others were painting doors and trim inside the auditorium, Uncle Mark was making door frames, and Luciano was pushing people in the right direction. He had finished painting the auditorium the previous day, and it looked awesome. The granite counters had been installed that morning and they looked very good and really gave the kitchen a "complete" look. I talked with Neto for a few minutes, and collected my co-op order from Samara, and then it was outside to play baseball with the two boys.

William kept riding his bike back and forth while I played catch with Junior and Filipe. Both boys had progressed since the beginning of the summer, but I was most impressed with Filipe's ability to throw a fast accurate pitch. I ran them through a few fielding drills as the sun began to set. When dusk had fallen we called it quits for the day. By that time the afternoon session of school had let out for the day, and several other regular players were walking by the church. I asked them if they wanted pictures taken and they happily agreed. I took pictures of four of them, and gave them the photos to take home. Then we took a few group pictures. I was sad that this would be our last opportunity to play, and I could tell that the kids were too. I had arranged for Rodrigo to keep the equipment and to plan games with the kids here and there.

It was almost 8:00, by the time the kids all said goodbye. Junior and Filipe told me that they were going to come to Sunday school that weekend, which I thought was awesome. There would be time to say goodbye to them later. There was a large crew preparing the hall for an elder’s conference that weekend, and they finished around 8:30. Uncle Mark and I took one last look around the hall for the night before heading home. When we arrived back to Lobster Road I did a little bit more packing before getting ready for bed. All of us were pretty tired. It had been a long, somewhat stressful day.

Aunt Lori had gotten almost everything that she needed to get done finished that afternoon. We had achieved our goal of getting prepared to go home, so the plan to go to Pipa was put into action. The order of 1,000 Bibles would not be in until Monday, so Lori had put Liese in charge of handling that. Washington and Junior would be driving us to Pipa the next day and they were planning on picking us up at about 8:30. We had decided to take Inacia with us the next day, so she slept over the house that night so she was there well rested the next morning. She spent most of the evening helping Lori prepare to leave. William went to bed relatively early, and I was not too far behind. The guffaw of Uncle Mark was enough to keep me up though, so I went into the living room for a while to watch King of Queens with him. At about 11:00 I was in bed with the lights off, looking forward to another buggy ride the next day. This time however, it would be in a different direction...

Luciano Giving a Look of Intimidation

Four of the Normal Planalto Gambas...Junior, William, Filipe and Michael

The Kitchen With Countertops

Uncle Marks Tools are Lining the Shelves

The Four Gambas and Me

Junior and William

Me, William and Junior

Me. William and Filipe

Good Morning Planalto...

The cold water cascading down my face was enough to shock my body awake at 7:00 the next morning. I keep forgetting that Inacia turns off the hot water switches before she leaves at night, and it isn’t until 2 minutes into my shower that I realize why the electric shower head isn’t heating the water. The frigid temperature did its job waking me up, and after I got dressed I quickly prepared my things for that morning. I had to bring the photo printer with me to print pictures of some of the cooperative’s wooden products that morning, which was one of the things I was supposed to get done the previous afternoon.

Uncle Mark, William and I arrived in the Planalto and each headed our separate ways. The hall was coming along quite nicely. Raimundo and Damião had begun tiling the front stairs, and Raimundo was already at work installing the railings for them and the handicap ramp. There were two Lucianos working today. The regular Luciano was preparing to paint the auditorium, and the new Luciano, who was also a missionary from another nearby assembly, was at work preparing the front wall for the gate installation.

Uncle Mark, Neto, William and Luciano (the regular one) loaded into the Comvee to go complain to the granite counter-top guy. The counters had come the day before and it was clear that the person who cut the granite did not follow the template that Uncle Mark had made at all. Everything was off, the most notable mistake being that the sink was in the wrong place. I headed to Luis’s house to pick up the disk of co-op product photos to print. On my way home I got a bit lost and wound up in another slum in the opposite direction of the Planalto. I decided to follow the train tracks back from whence I came, and finally found my way to the church. I set up a makeshift office in the auditorium and began printing the pictures for the co-op and for the Planalto Gambas.

Lillia called to see if I wanted to go over there for lunch, but I declined in hopes that today would be the day that I made it to the cancer hospital. It had been the one thing that I had really been looking forward to doing since I had gotten here, other than blogging of course. When you get into crunch time, like we are in now, you begin to wonder and worry when or if some things will ever happen. I worked on the blog while the photos printed. Alison Dos was there that morning, so I gave him his Planalto Gamba pictures which he appreciated.

Neto was impressed by the printer, which spat out perfect quality 4X6 photos rather quickly. He discussed the possibility of buying both the printer and my camera before we all left on Monday. I told him that the printer was Paul’s so he would have to talk to Lori about that and that I would give the camera some consideration. It was soon time to break for lunch, so William, Uncle Mark and I piled in the Gol and headed back to Ponta Negra to partake in Inacia’s delicious cooking.

Jokes had been made the night before that Inacia and Preta, the woman who looks after Lillia’s house, should have a cook-off. Uncle Mark is invited over Lillia’s daily for lunch, rather than having to drive the 25 minutes back home. He always declines and says that he would rather have Inacia’s cooking.

After a lunch of beans, rice, tomatoes and beef, Uncle Mark and William headed back to the Planalto. Lori, Caroline and I planned on going to the children’s hospital in the city. We were finally on our way as soon as Lori learned where the hospital was with the help of Inacia. We took the beautiful coastal road to the downtown area before we arrived at the hospital. The receptionist buzzed a volunteer to guide us around the facility. As we waited I took a look around. Aunt Lori read a sign to me that was written in Portuguese that stated that all the procedures are preformed at no cost to the patient, and that it was by the support of donations that all of these things was possible. Our guide soon arrived at the door, and me, Caroline, Lori and three bags of stuffed animals finally entered the hospital itself.

Unfortunately, we were told at this point that we could not pass out the animals because there was a chance of disease being spread. The back up plan was to entrust the soft toys to the staff to pass them out when the patients either went home or went into a hospice-like program. We also had some small toys (finger puppets, bouncy balls etc…) with us so we decided we would pass these out instead. A girl was having a birthday party in a function room so we decided that we would “crash” the party. The halls were not very brightly lit. Caroline had a distant look in her eye and I really didn’t know what to expect.

We went into the room and Aunt Lori spoke to them all as a group, telling them who we were, what we were doing in Brazil and what we were doing in the hospital that day. The sight of the kids really took me back. To be honest, I was expecting worse, but I still wasn’t prepared for seeing very frail children with 2nd rate IVs in their arms. The hospital didn’t even have portable IV hangers. Each time the kids decided to walk around, a volunteer had to hold the bag above their head to allow the fluid to flow through the tubes. All of the staff was very friendly and helpful, and Aunt Lori took the time to talk to each of them as well as saying hello to each of the children.

Caroline and I had gone to work passing out the finger puppets. I really had been hoping to give these kids the stuffed animals and was slightly embarrassed to only have little finger puppets to offer. I couldn’t believe how the faces on them would light up over a little toy that would probably go for around 5 tickets at Chuck E’ Cheeses. We stayed at the party for a bit and took a few pictures before our guide pushed us forward in the tour.

Our first stop was the infectious disease ward. We had to wash our hands both before and after entering the area. There were two children in there who were in quarantine, one with Tuberculosis and the other with some form of newborn repertory disorder. We were told that the one with TB had a negative prognosis while the child with the breathing problem would likely be alright after three months of treatment. The doctor who seemed to be the head of this department was a very friendly woman who spoke a little English. Most of the children who were at the party were from this ward, and they had returned from their afternoon festivity while we were in still the area. We went back in to take a final picture., and after washing our hands a third time we were on our way.

The hospital reminded me of something I had seen in any number of movies that showed a hospital in a third world country. The appearance wasn’t very clean. The rooms were dark and dingy and didn’t look like anything you would want to be in for a night, let alone a three month quarantine. I probably would have been disgusted and shocked if it wasn’t for the fact that I had been to the Planalto and seen the conditions of some of the homes that these people live in. This hospital was a four star hotel compared to some of those houses. Although we couldn't enter, we peered inside the ICU from the doorway before moving on.

During the time we had been in the infectious disease ward, a child had died and our guide had needed to leave our side to stay with the body. Our new leader was a very peppy volunteer who was so excited that we had come to visit the children. She told us that they had been very sad lately because they hadn’t had many visitors. Many of them are there for very long periods of time, and other than their parents and a few close relatives or friends they had no contact with anyone from the outside world. It began to make sense why these kids seemed so excited to see three American’s who could only offer them finger puppets.

We visited the cancer section of the hospital, and spent a while visiting with each individual patient. Some were very friendly, and others were very shy. Our new volunteer had insisted that Lori hand out the tracts. Up until this point, the pieces of paper hadn’t even been mentioned. We didn’t want to feel like we were throwing something at very sick children, many of which were dying. However this staff member knew each patient and each parent, so with her help we distributed them for the remainder of our stay.

We found a girl in the corner of the ward that was severely ill. Her mother seemed exhausted and just completely lost. Lori talked with her for a while before giving her a hug and we moved on. It wasn’t until I was out of the hospital that I learned the little girl’s story. The mother had been trying to read the Bible, but every time she opened it or mentioned God the girl would go crazy. The child was probably between 5 and 7 years old and looked very sick and extremely frail. My heart went out to her and her mother. It was evident that she had been sitting beside that bed for a very long time. Lori told her, “I am here to tell you that God loves you, but it sure doesn’t feel like he is in this does it”.

Before leaving the hospital we stopped by the in vaccination area. Upon opening the door, we discovered the staff member stationed there reading the Bible at her desk. Lori talked with her and left the remaining tracts and stickers with her to give out to the children and parents when they received their vaccinations. We said goodbye to the friends on the staff we had made and got back in the car. After a routine traffic stop we got to an ice cream place in Ponta Negra where I tried ascie ice cream with banana’s and granola. The food was good and the energy boost was needed seeing we were heading to an artisan center to look for more product next.

We didn’t stay in the center too long, and after getting a few small things and 5 kilograms of cashews we were on our way back home. It was about 7:30 by this point and we relaxed with some snacks and watched Seinfeld for a little while. Uncle Mark and William got home at about 9:00 that night. It had been a long, but productive day. Since I had left that afternoon they had done some more tiling on the front stairs, and Luciano had completely finished painting the auditorium. Uncle Mark had finished all the shelves that he was building, which left him with a few finishing touches to do the next day. I was exhausted and ready for bed before 11. I had hoped to go to the beach for an hour or so with William the next morning, but he told me he was going to the Planalto. Plan B, which I seemed to be resorting to a lot lately, was going to be a book poolside. Sometimes even the best laid plan “B”s of mice and men often go array...

Raimundo Working on the Hand Rails

Uncle Mark Giving the Bookshelves a Final Sanding Job

Aunt Lori and I with the Kids and Volunteers at the Birthday Party

Aunt Lori Communicating with Some of the Kids at the Party

Aunt Lori and I With some of the Volunteer Doctors, Nurses and Helpers

A Young Child (Probably Three Years Old) in the Oncology Wing of the Hospital

The Volunteer Running the Vaccination Center Was Reading Her Bible When We Arrived

The Summer of the Monkeys...

My sleep was disrupted at around 3:00 in the morning by a light rapping on the bedroom door. At first, I opened my eyes thinking that William was calling my name. Moments later after my eyes had adjusted to the lighting, I could clearly see that William’s eyes were closed and he was still sound asleep. I figured that I had been dreaming and attempted to get back to sleep. Then I heard a loud hacking outside my door and someone say my name in a soft voice again. I looked at the clock on my phone and got out of bed. Aunt Lori, Uncle Mark and Caroline were all outside the bedroom door. Caroline had gotten extremely ill in the middle of the night with a severely upset stomach and killer headache. Since she had been sick several of the past few days they decided that a trip to the hospital was necessary.

After the three of them left I went back to bed, but had a very difficult time falling asleep. I could tell that it was getting close to 5:00 in the morning because the light of dawn was slowly crawling into my bedroom. I finally drifted off for about two hours before being woken by the sound of Luke and Bo Duke being shot at on the television. I decided that attempting to sleep was futile at this point and got out of bed. The three others had returned from the hospital by this point and were sound asleep. Each was trying to catch up on an entire night of missed rest. I had planned on going to the beach that morning, but truth be told, I didn’t have the energy to make the three quarter mile walk down the hill.

Around 9:00 I heard excitement in Inacia’s voice, an occurrence that had not been very common in the nearly six weeks I have been here. I came out of the room and saw her pointing at the window over the dining room. There in the place where panes of glass would be were three monkeys. They screeched a little bit in their high pitched “voices” signaling that they had come for food. William decided to oblige the one monkey that “waited out the drought” and put some Banana down for him to take. When the cost was clear, the little monkey made his way down the trees that grow in our indoor garden and took the banana. Rather than eating it all himself, he was generous enough to think of his family as well. After eating a few bites, he picked up the piece of banana and scurried up the tree and out the window.

I decided to do my morning work; including the blog and some other things I was trying to finish up for the office, before going out and reading in the sun. It was an absolutely beautiful morning, and it would have been a great day for the beach. It was relaxing to take the time to read. At about 10:00 Luciano came to the house wondering if Mark was OK, since he hadn’t showed up to work that morning. Seeing that Uncle Mark is a man of routine, Neto and Luciano had found it odd that he hadn’t been there waiting for them to arrive before 8:30. Such a strange phenomenon warranted a phone call from Neto first. When no one answered the phone, Luciano decided to make the 25 minute drive from the Planalto to Ponta Negra. Lori told him the situation with Caroline and Luciano nodded his head, then left to go back to work.

Luciano and Neto were not the only people worried about Mark. Inacia had some concerns of her own. Preta had told Incsia the day before that Uncle Mark had been hit in the head with a piece of falling concrete. Once again, the “Man of Routine Theory” was put into play when Uncle Mark had not been sitting there drinking his coffee when Inacia arrived at 7:30. When Mark woke up at about 10:15 he explained that the rock didn’t hit his head, but just missed it. Apparently word spreads through the Planalto like wildfire, and like an elementary school game of telephone, the message had been mixed up due to signals getting crossed.

Although the headache remained, a pain I can strongly sympathize with, Caroline was feeling a little better thanks to the antibiotics she had received by the doctor. However I could tell that her illness was going to put a wrench in the works for my original plan to go to the cancer hospital that afternoon. Mark and William left for the Planalto at around 10:30, and announced that they would not be returning for lunch. I did not hear this announcement or I would have gone with them rather than risk the chance of being stranded on Lobster Road the entire day. When lunch time rolled around I asked if they were coming home, and Aunt Lori told me no. She had a doctor’s appointment later in the afternoon, so the day looked like it was going to wind up being a wash for me.

After a quick lunch of chicken soup for the disease ridden’s soul, I shot over to the shopping center to pick up a few things. My four hours of sleep was starting to catch up to me by this point, so after I got home I decided to lay down for about an hour to take a rest. Caroline was getting some sleep of her own, and Aunt Lori left us two sleeping beauties for her appointment. I woke up at around 4:30 and decided to use the time to work on a project for someone that I told them I would try and finish before I came home from Brazil. I hadn’t started it up until this point and I had no intention on going back on my word.

I continued working on it for the next few hours. During this time period Uncle Mark and William had returned, bringing Neto and Paula with them. Lillia and Luis, along with Dona Nier and Pietro, were coming over that night despite four of us being severely sleep deprived. You would think that I would be used to not getting any sleep, seeing that has been a common theme in my life recently. The past few weeks I have been getting a longer, less interrupted sleep. I wanted to get to a point in my project that night, so I rudely continued working despite having seven other guests in the house. Inacia had also stayed. Aunt Lori had invited her as a guest, but she insisted on doing the majority of the work.

We all visited for a few hours, and since I had gotten more sleep than anyone else I drove Neto, Paula and Inacia home. I had forgotten how much fun it is to drive a stick shift. The VW Gol reminds me of my old 1988 Honda CRX, which had more standard features than this almost brand new car. The CRX had been equipped with a radio and a sunroof, while this four door hatchback had no radio, no airbags and no sunroof. It did have air-conditioning however, but this feature was an upgrade. even in a country that averages 87 degrees a day during the year. Heat or no heat, the car rental was more each month because of this luxury.

On the way home I drove faster than normal due to the fact that there was nobody on the road. I failed to see a speed bump on a back road that led to the Planalto, due to lack of lighting and yellow paint. Paula and Inacia screamed from the back seat. Then everyone started laughing. Inacia had hit her head on the ceiling while the rear portion of the car was climbing the crest of the large bump. She started calling me a crazy driver. I guess I fit in with all the other maniacs that are on the road down here. I dropped Inacia off, after first saying goodbye to a horse that was wandering the dirt road at 12:45 at night. After Paula and Neto were dropped off I had a second wind.

I had a lot on my mind that evening, so I decided to go walk the beach for a little while despite the fact that it was almost 1:00. I weaved down several cobblestone streets that ran along the shoreline until I found a nicely lit area of the beach. There were a few couples walking on the beach that night, so I walked into the surf up until half my lower leg was under the water. The water seemed warmer at night, and the warm breeze moving off the water felt good. A rather large bat went back and forth along the shoreline skimming some bugs off the surface of the sand that was still wet from an earlier crashing wave.

It started to rain lightly, and scenes from Jaws were starting to run through my head. Visions of the opening scene with the girl first swimming and then getting devoured by the great white shark flashed in my mind. Seeing that sharks can somehow in as little as two feet of water, and not wanting to end up losing my prized left leg, I left the warm surf and went back up the dune to the Gol. I got a little lost on my way home, and wound up driving through the night club sector of Ponta Negra. I didn’t even know this area existed, but it looked like downtown Boston on the Fourth of July. Vendors lined the streets at 2:00, and there was more traffic than rush hour in Chinatown.

I played the stop and go game with the traffic for a while, before finding a way out. Lobster road was right around the corner and I made it home safe and sound. I entered the house as quietly as possible. My second wind had died down around the time I was stuck in traffic, so I was ready for bed. Seeing that I hadn’t made it to the Planalto as I had original planned that day, I had twice as much to do there the next day. I had told Uncle Mark that I was going with him the next morning to the Planalto. He was leaving in less than 6 hours…

Who Let the Monkey's In...Oh Wait...There's No Glass

Three Monkeys Could Spell Trouble at Lobster Road

Plan B...

I had been so tired when I went to bed on Monday night that I had forgotten to set my cell phone alarm clock. When I woke up in the still relatively dark bedroom the next morning, I was shocked to see that it was 10:45! I quickly got up and showered, and then talked with Aunt Lori about that afternoon. My original thought was to take the stuffed animals that I had brought with me to the Children’s cancer hospital that she had heard about. She tried in vain to get in touch with Washington, the Buggy driver who had told her about it, to find out exactly where it was.

Plan B was to go in search of more products that she needed to buy before she went home. Since I also needed to go to the Centro de Tourismo before leaving Brazil, I thought it would be wise to go along with her. Uncle Mark came back for lunch and told us about his progress of the morning. He had finished the second wall cabinet, and his goal for the afternoon was to install the remaining cabinets and begin working on the doors for them all. The counters were ordered, and Luciano was set to handle that project once they were made and ready for install.

Caroline and William opted to stay home with Inacia that afternoon while Mark went to the Planalto and Aunt Lori and I went to the tourism center. We arrived at the old prison that overlooked the beautiful Caribbean like ocean after first stopping at the rental car facility to make a payment and the currency exchange place. We immediately went to work looking at product for Va Livre and over the next few hours had picked out some great stuff. Because of the quantity that was being purchased, they gave her a discount on the final price. I did some shopping of my own before leaving, trying to make up for not buying anything during my first trip here.

We had a mild adventure on the way home. Aunt Lori decided to see if she could get back to the house going a new way. After making many left hand turns that brought us back to where we had started we found our way to the coastal road that bypassed all the traffic on the way to Ponta Negra. It was just about 7:00 at this point and Uncle Mark still was still not home. This meant that Inacia had stayed an extra two hours past her normal quitting time. Caroline came out to find out where we had been and informed us of the awful afternoon she had and the migraine “the size of a meteor” that she was currently experiencing. Aunt Lori offered Inacia a ride home and Uncle Mark pulled in shortly after they left for the Planalto.

People had showed up to help at the hall that afternoon, and with the help and hard work of so many, they were able to get a lot accomplished. Uncle Mark had hung the cabinets and had started on the doors, while Luciano led the others in cleaning and painting the roof tiles, painting the outside of the hall, and laying the new tile for the steps. William and Caroline went to bed earlier than normal, while Uncle Mark and Aunt Lori just relaxed together in the living room.

I on the other hand stayed in the dining room until after 11:00 that night. I had set some time apart for working on things that needed to be done for work, and I did just as I had planned. After I finished that I worked on a few other things before deciding to call it a night. As usual I was the last person up, so I ensured the doors were locked and the lights were off before making my way to my bed and slipping under the covers. I may have only been up for about 12 hours, but I sure was tired…

The Car Rental Place

Aunt Lori Looking at Product

Not So Early to Bed, and Way Too Early to Rise...

The alarm clock went off at 6:30 AM. While 6:30 in itself isn't an uncommon time to "rise and shine", it is too early for someone who hadn't managed to fall asleep until after 3:00 that morning. I had tried to muffle the bear-like sounds Chiquinho was making by covering my head with a pillow, but I have a difficult enough time sleeping with a single pillow, let alone having the one pillow I do possess on top of my face as my head lays flat on a mattress. Finally Chiquinho had shifted or something, cause the snoring ceased long enough for me to quickly drift off. Until that point it seemed that the Mack Truck convention was in town and the Daytona 500 had been moved to the Planalto.

I dressed, and packed my bag in the dark that morning amidst the not so melodious sounds of Chiquinho snoring in the background. Neto, Paula and I ate breakfast a little bit before 7:00, and by quarter past Neto and I were on our way back to Ponta Negra. Uncle Mark and William were waiting in the hammock when we pulled into the driveway on Lobster Road. The three boys headed to the Planalto while I went in to work on some logos that needed to get done that morning. It was only 8:00 at that point, and I spent the majority of the morning working on designing a logo for the "Planalto Gambas" the name I had given to the group of aspiring young baseball players. Although time consuming, the logo came out pretty good for a mornings work.

Lori had already left before I got home that morning to have another test done. Lillia had joined her, and the two of them returned home shortly after Uncle Mark and William did for lunch. Caroline was up and feeling better than she had the day before, and she had spent the morning peering over my shoulder at the progress I was making on the logo. After lunch Uncle Mark and William went back to the Planalto, while Aunt Lori, Lillia and I went to the shopping center to run a few crucial errands. Aunt Lori went to Gilgal first to put in an order for another 1,000 Bibles in hopes that they would arrive before Friday. I had drifted across the hall from Gilgal with my logos to see how much it would cost to get some tee-shirts made for the kids with the logo on it.

After Aunt Lori finished with the Bibles, she came into the shirt store in time to hear the woman give me a quote of $480 Raies for 20 shirts. I scoffed at this price and Lori asked if she would give a discount. She gracefully offered us $10 off, which I declined. My original vision had been to make shirts to have the kids get their pictures taken in, holding either a bat and a ball. I also wanted a big group photo of everyone in their makeshift uniform. The vision wasn't worth the hefty price of $480 Raies, but I figured that I could still achieve part of it. I decided to buy two shirts, one large and one small. At $25 Raies a piece they were more than I would pay for a shirt at The Gap. This way the regular kids could still get their picture taken, as well as some of the guys and women at the hall who have showed some interest in the sport.

After the shirts were made, Aunt Lori and Lillia went to check on the quality of a particular product that a woman near the Planalto made. They dropped me off about a half mile from the hall, and I headed there on foot. I stopped at the co-op first to see it in action. While I was there I put in a special order for myself. I also showed them the shirts, which they all thought were hilarious since they knew the story of the Lobster Road gamba. They joked and said that it should be the "Ponta Negra Gambas". I laughed along with the group of women for a while before continuing my walk toward the hall. Along the way I gained a few baseball followers who were anxious to play. Uncle Mark was finishing one of the two wall cabinets he was working on, and he asked me to take a walk to the convenient store to get some Coke for the guys working.

There was not a big crew working on the hall that day, and I felt bad leaving to play baseball with the kids. As bad as I felt, I had promised them on Thursday that I would play on Friday and Monday. I had already broken my promise once, after the Bible distribution became such a success and I just didn't have the heart to do it again, especially since they were all waiting for me. I took some pictures of the few kids that were there in their "uniforms" before taking the walk to the field. We gained a few extra followers on the way, and I decided to let the kids do some of the pitching that day. By the end of the day most of them were getting the concept of looking at the catcher’s glove and not the batter when throwing the ball.

At about 5:30 we headed back to the hall. Uncle Mark had finished the cabinet, but many of the roof tiles had not gotten painted. They had taken them down that day, and now they were putting them back up still dirty. Uncle Mark and I both wondered why they didn’t just put a tarp over the roof to protect against rain, but they seemed to think that the fragile tiles, which could easily be broken with a rock, were more of a deterrent than a tarp. Fact is, regardless of what material made up the roof, someone could still break into the hall within minutes.

We didn't wind up leaving the Planalto until almost 6:30. Lori had canceled her class because she felt ill. I was disappointed to not be teaching English, but I just went back to the house and worked on some other logo work. I also managed to finish my blog from the previous day. Uncle Mark and Caroline had gone to Luciano's birthday party. Mark had got Luciano some new boots as a gift, but he wrapped his own old ones and worn the new ones as a joke. To Luciano it seemed that Mark had given him the old boots and got some new ones for himself. He and Uncle Mark have a very similar personality, so he found it as funny as Uncle Mark originally had intended.

I worked on some projects until a little after 1:00 that morning. Caroline and Uncle Mark had gotten home at around 10:30 and went strait to bed. Aunt Lori had spent the night in bed herself with her mild illness. William had spent the evening with the two Dukes brothers before going to bed around 10:30. When I finished what I was currently working on I went to bed and completely collapsed. I had been going non stop doing various activities and I just wanted some sleep. The good news this night was that Chiquinho's snoring was nowhere to be heard...

Some of the Ladies Working at the Co-Op

Filipe at the Bat

Junior in the Outfield

Junior Swings and Misses

Rodrigo Shows the Planalto Gambas Logo

William Goes for the Intimidation Factor

Night Had Fallen Before it Was My Turn for a Picture