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...
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
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...
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...
Thursday, September 6, 2007
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...
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...
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
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...
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…
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…
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...
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...
Monday, September 3, 2007
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…
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…
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…
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Up to My Knees in Quick Sand .JPG)
William, Get Out of the Sinkhole Now
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Caroline and I in the Buggy
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Some Cliffs By Dolphin Cove
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Crawling Through the Grotto.JPG)
William and I in the Grotto
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Aunt Lori Escapes.JPG)
Crossing the Lagoon Over the Old Sunken City.JPG)
Uncle Mark Pondering .JPG)
Me on the Cliff
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William, I Said Don't Look Down
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Everything is a Go
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William Meets the Goats.JPG)
Mark Taking a Snooze After Lunch
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What a Place to Eat Lunch
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William and Caroline on the Road Again.JPG)
Alex Lawson and William Procopio Star in Cliffhangers II .JPG)
Help, I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up
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The Sun Setting Over the Dunes
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One Last Thrill Ride
Saturday, September 1, 2007
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...
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Luciano Giving a Look of Intimidation
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The Four Gambas and Me
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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...
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Luciano Giving a Look of Intimidation .JPG)
Four of the Normal Planalto Gambas...Junior, William, Filipe and Michael
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The Kitchen With Countertops
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Uncle Marks Tools are Lining the Shelves
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The Four Gambas and Me.JPG)
Junior and William
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Me. William and Filipe
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