As the Boeing 767 continued to ascend to its cruising altitude, I glanced around the small section of the cabin that I had been seated in. My eyes fixed upon two seemingly empty bulkhead seats. There were no entertainment center's in front of the seats, making me think that people didn't want to travel 10 hours without the in-flight movie. I had my laptop, my Ipod and two books making a viewing of the feature film a moot point. I picked up my gear, including the pillow, blanket and headphones that were shrink wrapped in plastic and scooted past the elderly lady. I wandered up about a half a row before I realized I had made a mistake. Even though I had thoroughly studied the seats before taking any action, they were in fact occupied by people, two very small people. It had been impossible to see their head's from my seat. Embarrassed, and finding myself standing in an aisle holding a computer and other paraphernalia with the "Fasten Seat belt" signal still illuminated, I once again scooted past "granny" who must have been annoyed with me.
She took it in stride, and after I settled back into the cubby-hole that was my assigned seat, I took a stab at speaking in Portuguese to her. It went OK. She spoke enough English to help when I made a mistake or didn't know the word. As the entertainment centers in front of us showed our plane approach certain cities, and at one point be above two very large cities at the same time, she would explain how beautiful this one was, or how hot this other one was. I showed her some pictures that I had on my laptop. I planned on watching a few episodes of ER, since me sleeping on a plane under the best of circumstances was a feat rarely accomplished. Unfortunately the low battery signal came on much sooner than anticipated.
The woman next to me was arching her back in pain and trying to use the one little pillow she had under her lower back and her shoulder blades at the same time. As I watched the circus act transpiring before me, I decided to do the only thing right in my eyes, seeing I wasn't going to sleep anyway, and offer the woman my still wrapped pillow. She graciously took it and positioned it under her shoulder, while the other pillow gave her the lumbar support she so desperately needed. It was getting late, and I decided to brush my teeth now rather than risk waking the woman later. I got my little baggy with the toothbrush, toothpaste and deodorant that had been cleared by airport security and headed into the cramped washroom.
I took the time in the washroom to also complete the customs card that had been handed to me earlier. After finishing I went back to my row only to discover that the elderly woman had taken it upon herself to lie down in both seats and fall asleep. Holding my zip lock bag in one hand and my passport in the other, I glanced around the nearby cabin to see if there was another available seat. Not finding one I was left with no choice but to wake the poor uncomfortable woman and reclaim the throne of 18L. After she woke up, she explained that she thought I found another seat and asked if she could have the window seat so she could lean against it for her back. I thought that fate had turned my way and gave her the cubby-hole while I took her seat in the aisle.
The night went on, and as each hour passed my posterior side began to get sorer. Memories of waking up from surgery with a bright red bruise on my rear end flooded back. I was now in excruciating pain, but sleeping beauty next to me still had my pillow. The man in front of me, who for hours had been flailing around like a fish out of water knocking my laptop with the back of his seat, had finally drifted off to sleep. I opened my eyes from the pain in time to see the man's pillow fall to the floor. My sinister eyes watched closely to make sure he was still asleep, and I reached to the ground and collected the small white object. After placing it under me, I breathed a sigh of relief, both from not getting caught and from the subsiding pain. He woke up a few minutes later wondering where his pillow had gone. I pretended to be asleep, and there was no chance he was finding that pillow seeing as where it was hidden. He woke up his girlfriend or wife or whoever she was to explain to her that his pillow had been raptured and expressed deep concern for the safety of her own pillow.
While the rest of the trip was uneventful and still mildly uncomfortable, I arrived in Newark with just enough time to clear customs, re-check my bags and board the plane to Boston. I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, so I will admit to blatantly disregarding the instructions to turn off portable electronic devices. Nobody noticed and much to my surprise the plane did not crash. Jill picked me up and after carrying my 2 ton bags up the stairs I collapsed on the newly purchased mattress that was before me. The water bed was no more. My parents had worried about it not being enough support for Aaron, who had been staying there for a week, and his bulky frame, so they had got a new mattress. I just planned to sit on it to see how it felt and then get my bags and unpack a little bit, but I couldn't get up. I was too tired...
NOTE: I will still be blogging updates from Mark and Lori, so please keep checking in to see what is going on currently in Natal. Thanks for your support and for following my trip so closely. I had a great time and hope to go back in August if it works out. Thanks again!
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Sunday, July 8, 2007
The Last Maracuja...
I thought I could use refreshment at this point, seeing as my fingers were anxiously tapping the seat next to me. I took a stroll around the food court area and realized that I wanted something cold rather than a drink. I had an awful case of dry mouth in my throat which I was attributing to the gallons of salt water that had entered my mouth earlier that morning. The last food booth had some ice cream bars in it, and the sight of the frozen maracuja fruit bar almost allowed some saliva to form in my Sahara Desertish mouth. I paid the woman for the treat and finished it before I could even find a trash receptacle to dispose of the wrapper. The taste of the passion fruit left me wanting more, so after I passed through security and reached my gate my eyes darted around the crowded room for a vending machine or juice bar of some sort.
There I saw it, standing out like an oasis in the midst of sand and burnt brush, a coffee stand with juice. I wandered over to it and asked for a maracuja juice. They woman spattered something in rocketesque Portuguese and I saw that she was pointing to two different size glasses. At this point I had come to the assumption that my plane was leaving, which later proved false, and I didn't have time for her to go through the process of making a fresh juice for me. I asked for whatever she had in a bottle, which turned out to be a horrible combination of acerola and tangerine. I was not too distraught over the fact that I hadn't sipped the sweet Brazilian nectar due to the fact I was flying TAM airlines. I figured that a Brazilian airline would certainly offer maracuja juice as its headline beverage on the refreshment cart.
I learned that the people going through this gate were leaving for somewhere else, and I waited my turn to board. When my flight began to board I noticed something peculiar. There were four gates (A, B, C, and D). These gates all led into the same hallway which had four airplane ports (1, 2, 3, and 4). This meant that anybody who bought a ticket could change there mind and fly somewhere completely different and not even worry the least bit about being caught, unless the flight was sold out. What a ridiculous scheme!
My seat was in the back of the aircraft that was brought strait back from the 80s. I took a seat across the aisle from a man. After realizing that my cushion was broken, he began going through all these hand motions of what I should do while speaking in English. I played a long for a little while and then once I had resolved my problem I took a seat and asked him in perfect English where he was from. He spoke slowly as if I needed to read each syllable escaping his lips as he said, "The Un-ite-ed Sta-tes." I responded "Cool, me too", only to be met with an expression that screamed "other American's travel to Brazil?"
He began talking to me and I soon learned his name was Josh. After two hours of him conversing with me about what he was doing in Brazil, and what I was doing in Brazil, yadda yadda yadda...I began to wonder if this man could possibly be batting for the other team, and I don't mean the New York Yankees. He was very nice, and I remained polite even when aspects of the conversation got a little awkward for a young fellow like me. The beverage cart slowly made its way through the plane. When it reached my aisle I asked for a maracuja. The flight attendant looked at me oddly and held up a diet coke. No, "mar-a-cuj-a" I responded. A different liquid was waved in front of my face. "Juice," I said. "Ah," he smiled as he waved a container of OJ for my annoyed eyes to see. Finally I responded "Diet Coke please". Apparently I had had my last maracuja in the form of a frozen fruit bar.
Our plane landed and Josh and I went our separate ways. I checked in with the Continental desk and learned a very valuable lesson, if you aren’t fluent in a language don't try to speak it to an airport concierge. He asked me how I was doing and I said "good" in Portuguese, which loosened his tongue faster than you can say the word "pickle". Like a spitfire shooting the enemy out of the sky, he rattled off 10 questions to me in Portuguese before I had the chance to blink. "What" I said in English. He smiled and then started from the beginning only this time, he used my native tongue. I waited in the lines for customs and the international police before arriving at my gate in time to board the plane. I took my seat next to an elderly woman who was closely clutching her purse as if she were routinely seated next to hooligans. I smiled as I scooted past her and plopped down into the window seat. She never smiled back. I thought to myself that this was going to be a long flight...
There I saw it, standing out like an oasis in the midst of sand and burnt brush, a coffee stand with juice. I wandered over to it and asked for a maracuja juice. They woman spattered something in rocketesque Portuguese and I saw that she was pointing to two different size glasses. At this point I had come to the assumption that my plane was leaving, which later proved false, and I didn't have time for her to go through the process of making a fresh juice for me. I asked for whatever she had in a bottle, which turned out to be a horrible combination of acerola and tangerine. I was not too distraught over the fact that I hadn't sipped the sweet Brazilian nectar due to the fact I was flying TAM airlines. I figured that a Brazilian airline would certainly offer maracuja juice as its headline beverage on the refreshment cart.
I learned that the people going through this gate were leaving for somewhere else, and I waited my turn to board. When my flight began to board I noticed something peculiar. There were four gates (A, B, C, and D). These gates all led into the same hallway which had four airplane ports (1, 2, 3, and 4). This meant that anybody who bought a ticket could change there mind and fly somewhere completely different and not even worry the least bit about being caught, unless the flight was sold out. What a ridiculous scheme!
My seat was in the back of the aircraft that was brought strait back from the 80s. I took a seat across the aisle from a man. After realizing that my cushion was broken, he began going through all these hand motions of what I should do while speaking in English. I played a long for a little while and then once I had resolved my problem I took a seat and asked him in perfect English where he was from. He spoke slowly as if I needed to read each syllable escaping his lips as he said, "The Un-ite-ed Sta-tes." I responded "Cool, me too", only to be met with an expression that screamed "other American's travel to Brazil?"
He began talking to me and I soon learned his name was Josh. After two hours of him conversing with me about what he was doing in Brazil, and what I was doing in Brazil, yadda yadda yadda...I began to wonder if this man could possibly be batting for the other team, and I don't mean the New York Yankees. He was very nice, and I remained polite even when aspects of the conversation got a little awkward for a young fellow like me. The beverage cart slowly made its way through the plane. When it reached my aisle I asked for a maracuja. The flight attendant looked at me oddly and held up a diet coke. No, "mar-a-cuj-a" I responded. A different liquid was waved in front of my face. "Juice," I said. "Ah," he smiled as he waved a container of OJ for my annoyed eyes to see. Finally I responded "Diet Coke please". Apparently I had had my last maracuja in the form of a frozen fruit bar.
Our plane landed and Josh and I went our separate ways. I checked in with the Continental desk and learned a very valuable lesson, if you aren’t fluent in a language don't try to speak it to an airport concierge. He asked me how I was doing and I said "good" in Portuguese, which loosened his tongue faster than you can say the word "pickle". Like a spitfire shooting the enemy out of the sky, he rattled off 10 questions to me in Portuguese before I had the chance to blink. "What" I said in English. He smiled and then started from the beginning only this time, he used my native tongue. I waited in the lines for customs and the international police before arriving at my gate in time to board the plane. I took my seat next to an elderly woman who was closely clutching her purse as if she were routinely seated next to hooligans. I smiled as I scooted past her and plopped down into the window seat. She never smiled back. I thought to myself that this was going to be a long flight...
Thursday, July 5, 2007
All My Bags Are Packed, I'm Ready to Go...
In hindsight I am glad I willingly stayed up into the wee hours of the morning to pack my belongings and organize what I needed for the next day. If you had asked me at 7:15 that morning, I would have told you otherwise. I was first woken by the earthquake that has become Pre-7:00 AM-William who shook me to remind me of my promise to go to the beach early. Nine minutes later, as if it was a programmed snooze alarm, an aftershock of the initial July 4th quake brought me to the reality that my time of being unconscious was over.
I got up and ate breakfast with William, Uncle Mark and Aunt Lori. William and I each had a crape type omelet and poured ourselves a glass of the "Juice of the Day". I took a gulp, hoping for the smooth sweet taste of maracuja, only to have my taste buds send a red alert signal that it was not the passion fruit but the dreaded mango, the only fruit I encountered in Brazil that I didn't like. Like a member of the KGB, William snuck into the kitchen careful to avoid Inacia. He pulled the container of peach juice that had been used to concoct the smoothies the night before and brought it into the room. We filled fresh glasses and drank two cups fooling Inacia into thinking that we had enjoyed the freshly squeezed mango juice.
William went into the room and he was dressed and ready for the walk to the beach in a matter of moments. We left the house and made it the mile to the beach in less than 15 minutes. Two factors aided us in this feat: the fact we were going down hill and the fact William had finally worn shoes with support in them. The vendors were few and far between at this hour in the morning, and the rising tide had also kept many normal beach goers off the sand until the afternoon. We rode the waves for a half hour or so before beginning the trek uphill toward the house.
I posted my blog, finished packing, went to work on my daily exercise routine, took a shower and was ready to go by noon. The pool workers were outside installing a brand new filter and pipe system around the pool. Caroline was showing her usual sign of faith by wearing her bathing suit, hoping that this would be the day that she could actually use it. She had been conducting this ritual for about four days at this point. Uncle Mark returned home from the Planalto, and after a quick lunch of sandwiches I packed the car and bid farewell to the house on Lobster Road.
We stopped by the Planalto so I could try one more time to find my sunglasses. I got to see the progress that had been made on the hall since I had last been there. The two brick walls that led to the entry door of the hall had been knocked down. I had spent hours chipping concrete off of the brick with the finesse a 1960s barber would use when giving his customer a close shave. Uncle Mark has spent the morning lugging 50 and 80lb bags of concrete into the co-op area. The women involved in the co-op were performing an evacuation procedure due to the flying dust that was starting to flaw their products. The moved the materials to Suzete's house down the block, where they would then work on them for the remainder of the afternoon and the summer.
My last attempt to find my sunglasses proved futile despite Neto and Chiquinho calling people to see if they knew where they were. I said goodbye to my new friends who had gathered there to say goodbye. Like General Douglas Macarthur leaving the Philippians Islands during World War II, I turned to the group of 20-30 year olds and said "I Shall Return". OK not really, but I did tell them that I hoped to come back soon if everything fell into place. I had enjoyed my time in the Planalto. I was upset to be leaving now that the actual heavy workload had just begun. We all piled into the car and headed for the airport.
A few minutes into our drive we heard the car behind us beeping. I turned around to see a red Volkswagen Gol, which had been named "Baby Abordo" by William due to the sticker in the back window informing those behind the 3 cylinder automobile that there was a baby on board. I don't think anyone in their right mind could call Pietro a baby, but I can tell you that I was happy that I got a chance to say goodbye to Luis and Lillia. They had tracked us down and dodged the heavy traffic of donkey's, bicycles and mopeds to catch up to us. We arrived at the airport and I said goodbye to Uncle Mark and the kids. I told William to be on the lookout for anyone wearing black Oakley sunglasses in the Planalto and then headed in the airport with Aunt Lori.
My flight was delayed 2 hours, cutting my three hour layover in San Paulo to just over an hour. Aunt Lori gave me the rundown of what to do in Natal, in San Paulo and once I get to Newark. I listened intently, getting more and more intimidated as I heard each separate step involved in the process of flying into my home country. I gave her a hug goodbye and watched as she exited the airport and got into the tiny car. They headed back to the Planalto to mix concrete, as I sat at the gate waiting to begin the long journey home...
I got up and ate breakfast with William, Uncle Mark and Aunt Lori. William and I each had a crape type omelet and poured ourselves a glass of the "Juice of the Day". I took a gulp, hoping for the smooth sweet taste of maracuja, only to have my taste buds send a red alert signal that it was not the passion fruit but the dreaded mango, the only fruit I encountered in Brazil that I didn't like. Like a member of the KGB, William snuck into the kitchen careful to avoid Inacia. He pulled the container of peach juice that had been used to concoct the smoothies the night before and brought it into the room. We filled fresh glasses and drank two cups fooling Inacia into thinking that we had enjoyed the freshly squeezed mango juice.
William went into the room and he was dressed and ready for the walk to the beach in a matter of moments. We left the house and made it the mile to the beach in less than 15 minutes. Two factors aided us in this feat: the fact we were going down hill and the fact William had finally worn shoes with support in them. The vendors were few and far between at this hour in the morning, and the rising tide had also kept many normal beach goers off the sand until the afternoon. We rode the waves for a half hour or so before beginning the trek uphill toward the house.
I posted my blog, finished packing, went to work on my daily exercise routine, took a shower and was ready to go by noon. The pool workers were outside installing a brand new filter and pipe system around the pool. Caroline was showing her usual sign of faith by wearing her bathing suit, hoping that this would be the day that she could actually use it. She had been conducting this ritual for about four days at this point. Uncle Mark returned home from the Planalto, and after a quick lunch of sandwiches I packed the car and bid farewell to the house on Lobster Road.
We stopped by the Planalto so I could try one more time to find my sunglasses. I got to see the progress that had been made on the hall since I had last been there. The two brick walls that led to the entry door of the hall had been knocked down. I had spent hours chipping concrete off of the brick with the finesse a 1960s barber would use when giving his customer a close shave. Uncle Mark has spent the morning lugging 50 and 80lb bags of concrete into the co-op area. The women involved in the co-op were performing an evacuation procedure due to the flying dust that was starting to flaw their products. The moved the materials to Suzete's house down the block, where they would then work on them for the remainder of the afternoon and the summer.
My last attempt to find my sunglasses proved futile despite Neto and Chiquinho calling people to see if they knew where they were. I said goodbye to my new friends who had gathered there to say goodbye. Like General Douglas Macarthur leaving the Philippians Islands during World War II, I turned to the group of 20-30 year olds and said "I Shall Return". OK not really, but I did tell them that I hoped to come back soon if everything fell into place. I had enjoyed my time in the Planalto. I was upset to be leaving now that the actual heavy workload had just begun. We all piled into the car and headed for the airport.
A few minutes into our drive we heard the car behind us beeping. I turned around to see a red Volkswagen Gol, which had been named "Baby Abordo" by William due to the sticker in the back window informing those behind the 3 cylinder automobile that there was a baby on board. I don't think anyone in their right mind could call Pietro a baby, but I can tell you that I was happy that I got a chance to say goodbye to Luis and Lillia. They had tracked us down and dodged the heavy traffic of donkey's, bicycles and mopeds to catch up to us. We arrived at the airport and I said goodbye to Uncle Mark and the kids. I told William to be on the lookout for anyone wearing black Oakley sunglasses in the Planalto and then headed in the airport with Aunt Lori.
My flight was delayed 2 hours, cutting my three hour layover in San Paulo to just over an hour. Aunt Lori gave me the rundown of what to do in Natal, in San Paulo and once I get to Newark. I listened intently, getting more and more intimidated as I heard each separate step involved in the process of flying into my home country. I gave her a hug goodbye and watched as she exited the airport and got into the tiny car. They headed back to the Planalto to mix concrete, as I sat at the gate waiting to begin the long journey home...
A Compleatly Chipped Hall Gets Fresh Actual Concrete
Uncle Mark Poses with A Makeshift Hammer, Made with a Wooden Block and a Poll.
Perhaps this picture will someday sit on tables and hang on walls everywhere, much like the photo of his dad leaning on a broom does today.
Neto Futilely Trys to Track Down My Missing Oakley's as Chiquinho Looks On
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
The Notebook...
The familiar sound of the porcelain express leaving the station woke me out my few hour sleep at around 5:45 in the morning. The sight of a red eyed William exiting the bathroom confused me at first. He showered and dressed and was ready to head to the Planalto to work with his dad by 6:00 AM. He told me that his dad wanted him to get up at that time, but a conversation with Uncle Mark at the breakfast table at 7:30 proved that he specifically told William NOT to get up at 6:00. After they finished Breakfast the two of them headed off for a morning of work at the Planalto, while I prepared to leave for Boston the next day.
The doorbell rang, and two gentlemen had come to fix the gate. A few minutes later I looked out the back door to see Gisele, Adelmo, Dona Lucia and two pool filter repair people enter the back yard. One of the two was a woman whose sole job seemed to be to clutch a notebook in her hand and oversee the entire process. They spoke in Portuguese to Gisele and Adelmo, and Aunt Lori listened intently from the dining room table. Juarez (the other person) was not happy with this system that seemed as if it had been neglected for at least 5 years. Gisele informed him that he was correct with his assessment as "The Notebook" glared at the two landlords. It looked as if Adelmo couldn't see what the problem was, but that could be due to the fact that he was over 50% blind!
Two more repairmen showed up a few minutes later to repair the alarm system and Gisele made sure to spend time with each specialist. We were informed that the pool would be fixed the next day, which was annoying due to the fact that we had already scheduled to have the exact same work done to the pool the previous Saturday while we were on the dunes. Either Gisele or Adelmo had kindly turned the repairman away when he arrived for his appointment. The gate system was completely shot and was replaced entirely. The alarm technicians identified the problem and went on their way. There is also supposedly supposed to be someone coming to install the new fan in William's bedroom to replace the one that had burst into a ball of flames.
Mark and William returned for lunch and we informed them of the events of the morning, including the peculiar "Notebook". We talked for a bit and I told them I wanted to go to the Planalto that afternoon. It was stated that it would be difficult because Salomão was going and there was not enough room in the Gol for the six of us. We discussed the possibility of me returning to Brazil after Jillian's wedding in August, which is a distinct possibility, and then Mark, Lori and William left. Caroline and I stayed home with the intent to go shopping, but that never happened due to the perturbing afternoon I spent trying to restore my files. I managed to recover about 60% of them, including all of the ones I had removed from William's camera, which had been my primary concern.
Mark, William and Salomão went to work at the Planalto. They decided to move the front door to the center of the front wall, and get rid of some empty space that they had. This would now allow them to put a bench in the area that had turned into being a standing room only area for Gospel meeting. They chipped all the remaining concrete on the front and side walls of the church receiving help from Paulo, Eriberto and Dedo. William went about his routine of helping one minute and then playing with Herbson and some other kids the next. By the end of the day the entire exterior of the building had been chipped, and one of the three walls had been layered with fresh smooth coats of REAL concrete.
Aunt Lori had a productive afternoon by making the necessary stops that she had been trying to make for the past week. She and Lillia met with the wood professional to the south and are currently in the process of negotiating a price. She also contacted some people she had been trying to help, and took care of some responsibilities that she needed to take care of for works that have been going on in other states of Brazil. They all returned home at about 6:30, and we went about the normal routine of finding something small to eat for supper. William wanted me to make one more smoothie before I went home so I obliged and after many ingredients finally perfected the art of concocting a Brazilian smoothie, a very difficult task considering their dairy products. I have come to the conclusion that they slaughter all the cows they have for beef, and don't leave any for dairy, thus having to make due with what they have or import the boxed milk.
Salomão had told William that he could swim in his pool since ours was green, cloudy and only about a foot deep. Caroline and Aunt Lori went shopping, so William and I walked the mile to Salomão's house, bringing him back his bike. William swam in the pool and Salomão allowed him to jump off the abandoned fountain that was sticking about 10 feet in the air. The wise man then attempted to take a picture, but the lighting was bad. He had me prop up a light with a pole. I gave no thought that the pole was metal and I was standing in a puddle of water. After about three seconds of electricity shooting through my body, I let go of the metal part and wisely grasped the plastic bottom.
After about 45 minutes of swimming we left Salomão and his daughter Julia to go home. I said goodbye to them both and thanked them for everything they had done for me during my three weeks in Natal. William and I jogged half way home, until my foot started hurting from the straps on my sandal, my shoes were still drying. When we reached home I began the process of packing. I was trying to talk William into staying with me the next morning rather than going to the Planalto, and after telling him I would go to the beach for a little while he decided that he would stay with me. He fell asleep as I continued to pack and go about the tedious task of making sure I was ready to go. When I grew tired I went inside and stretched out on my mattress. For the first time since Saturday, I was asleep within minutes...
Looks Like There is a Lot of Work Yet to Do
Eriberto, Dedo, Paulo and One of Lucianio's Men at Work
Salomão Arrives on the Job 
Not Bad for a Day's WorkTuesday, July 3, 2007
Chip-A-Dee-Do-Da...
My burning eyes focused on a part of the ceiling that I had not yet analyzed during the 6 and a half hours I had been lying in my bed wide awake. William woke up early to prepare for his day with Uncle Mark in the Planalto. I had planned on going that night as well, but my hours of counting flowers on the wall and playing solitaire till dawn with a deck of 51 assured me that I should spend a little bit of time resting the ol' eye lids. Mark and William headed off to work on the hall, while I took a stroll around our pool which had grown a green film over the top of it. Apparently my fervent study of the filtration system didn't yield the results that we so desperately needed.
A knock at the back gate introduced Gisele into our lives. Gisele was our co-landlord and the wife of the half blind Saint Adelmo who we had met just over a week ago. She was informed of the never-ending problems of the pool and the gate, which still was constantly jamming, and told us she would get right on it. Aunt Lori gave Caroline and me a brief tutorial on teaching English as a second language, since that is exactly what would be occurring that evening at the hall. We were instructed to begin with the alphabet and how to say each letter in English. On separate flash cards they were to write the letter on each side, and then how to pronounce the letter in English using the sounds of the Portuguese alphabet.
Mark and William returned home for a lunch of chicken pie and rice and then we headed for an afternoon in the Planalto. Mark had spent most of the morning along with Luciano chipping the crumbling concrete off the side of the hall. They had finished the lower portion of one wall, but scaffolding was needed to reach the higher levels. William had leveled a lot of the driveway area with crushed stone, and was looking forward to playing with Herbson in the afternoon. I grabbed a chisel and hammer and began on the front wall of the hall. I was joined by Uncle Mark when he finished his designated area on the other wall. Luciano had left to go pick up the scaffolding, and he returned as soon as the rays of the blaring sun lost their intensity. The Sheik of Concrete is one smart man.
Lillia, Aunt Lori and Caroline headed south of Natal to meet with a man to discuss him supplying the raw wood materials for the co-op. Traffic halted their progress however since they needed to be back to the Planalto by 5:00 for the start of English lessons. After waiting an hour in an unmoving procession of small cars (in Brazil the Honda Accord or Toyota Corolla are kings) they turned the Gol around and headed back to the hall. We were making progress at chipping at the red concrete that came off as if it were rotten wood. The fine dust concentrated the air causing everyone close to the red cloud to make a conscious decision whether or not to breathe. The dirt stung my eyes and, caused my white socks and brown sandals to turn a shade of reddish/tan.
Why was I wearing sandals? I had worn sneakers to the concrete chipping party the previous Friday, and I had washed them when I got home that night. Seeing as we don't have a dryer at the house, I left them out on the patio to dry during the next day. A torrential rain storm had delayed the drying process, but sunny weather with only a 10% chance of precipitation was predicted for the next day. The Nike's remained outside only to be soaked by a Sunday filled with rain. Sandals were my only option. I refused to get the red powder in my mouth, so I kept it closed. During the four hours I was chiseling I had unknowingly clenched my teeth. When it got dark, I opened my mouth for the first time and my teeth ached.
English lessons had started, and I was covered in red dirt from head to toe. I gave myself a semi-sponge bath in the small and cramped single stall bathroom at the hall and then sat in on Caroline’s lesson. She was teaching a few of the younger people, while Aunt Lori had a larger adult class in the next room. From where I was sitting I could hear both lessons running concurrently and from what I heard, they both appeared to be doing the same thing. I helped in places I saw fit, mostly with forcing the students to put emphasis on certain sounds in the words they were saying. Every time they would see how an English word was spelt, they would pronounce it using the sounds of the Portuguese alphabet. This is expected, and brings to light the importance of making them repeat the correct pronunciation until they get it drilled into their heads.
After the hour lesson, I said goodbye to the friends I had made here in case I didn't see them the next day, and we headed for home. We stopped at a shopping center so I could finally unload the traveler’s checks that had been a burden on me since my arrival. Aunt Lori purchased some shoes for William, and we got home at around 8:00 in the evening. I went to work trying to recover the photos of the buggy ride that I had accidentally deleted, making little progress. After a talk with my parents, I headed for bed. At this point I had been without sleep for 42 hours and I had a much anticipated date with my mattress and pillow...
Luciano's Workers Cementing the Wall that We Chipped on Friday
A knock at the back gate introduced Gisele into our lives. Gisele was our co-landlord and the wife of the half blind Saint Adelmo who we had met just over a week ago. She was informed of the never-ending problems of the pool and the gate, which still was constantly jamming, and told us she would get right on it. Aunt Lori gave Caroline and me a brief tutorial on teaching English as a second language, since that is exactly what would be occurring that evening at the hall. We were instructed to begin with the alphabet and how to say each letter in English. On separate flash cards they were to write the letter on each side, and then how to pronounce the letter in English using the sounds of the Portuguese alphabet.
Mark and William returned home for a lunch of chicken pie and rice and then we headed for an afternoon in the Planalto. Mark had spent most of the morning along with Luciano chipping the crumbling concrete off the side of the hall. They had finished the lower portion of one wall, but scaffolding was needed to reach the higher levels. William had leveled a lot of the driveway area with crushed stone, and was looking forward to playing with Herbson in the afternoon. I grabbed a chisel and hammer and began on the front wall of the hall. I was joined by Uncle Mark when he finished his designated area on the other wall. Luciano had left to go pick up the scaffolding, and he returned as soon as the rays of the blaring sun lost their intensity. The Sheik of Concrete is one smart man.
Lillia, Aunt Lori and Caroline headed south of Natal to meet with a man to discuss him supplying the raw wood materials for the co-op. Traffic halted their progress however since they needed to be back to the Planalto by 5:00 for the start of English lessons. After waiting an hour in an unmoving procession of small cars (in Brazil the Honda Accord or Toyota Corolla are kings) they turned the Gol around and headed back to the hall. We were making progress at chipping at the red concrete that came off as if it were rotten wood. The fine dust concentrated the air causing everyone close to the red cloud to make a conscious decision whether or not to breathe. The dirt stung my eyes and, caused my white socks and brown sandals to turn a shade of reddish/tan.
Why was I wearing sandals? I had worn sneakers to the concrete chipping party the previous Friday, and I had washed them when I got home that night. Seeing as we don't have a dryer at the house, I left them out on the patio to dry during the next day. A torrential rain storm had delayed the drying process, but sunny weather with only a 10% chance of precipitation was predicted for the next day. The Nike's remained outside only to be soaked by a Sunday filled with rain. Sandals were my only option. I refused to get the red powder in my mouth, so I kept it closed. During the four hours I was chiseling I had unknowingly clenched my teeth. When it got dark, I opened my mouth for the first time and my teeth ached.
English lessons had started, and I was covered in red dirt from head to toe. I gave myself a semi-sponge bath in the small and cramped single stall bathroom at the hall and then sat in on Caroline’s lesson. She was teaching a few of the younger people, while Aunt Lori had a larger adult class in the next room. From where I was sitting I could hear both lessons running concurrently and from what I heard, they both appeared to be doing the same thing. I helped in places I saw fit, mostly with forcing the students to put emphasis on certain sounds in the words they were saying. Every time they would see how an English word was spelt, they would pronounce it using the sounds of the Portuguese alphabet. This is expected, and brings to light the importance of making them repeat the correct pronunciation until they get it drilled into their heads.
After the hour lesson, I said goodbye to the friends I had made here in case I didn't see them the next day, and we headed for home. We stopped at a shopping center so I could finally unload the traveler’s checks that had been a burden on me since my arrival. Aunt Lori purchased some shoes for William, and we got home at around 8:00 in the evening. I went to work trying to recover the photos of the buggy ride that I had accidentally deleted, making little progress. After a talk with my parents, I headed for bed. At this point I had been without sleep for 42 hours and I had a much anticipated date with my mattress and pillow...
Luciano's Workers Cementing the Wall that We Chipped on Friday 
Uncle Mark and I at Work chipping the Front of the Hall
The Area's Around the Windows and Doors Were Especially Difficult
Aunt Lori Teaching Her Class the Alphabet
Caroline Helping Two Students Conduct a Practice Exercise
Monday, July 2, 2007
Black Sabbath...
After swallowing a small army of brown tablets to combat the pain in my head, I lied back down on my bed and waited. By 7:00 it was clear that this pain was not going to go away and I decided that I was not going to make it any worse by listening to Portuguese for three hours at meeting. William hopped in the shower, and a few minutes later shouted “who turned the lights off?” We had experienced this problem in our room before so I got up to check the circuit breakers. After seeing that our breakers were not tripped, it was evident that the entire house was out of power.
Everyone else prepared for meeting while I tried to fall back asleep. Closing my eyes was the only thing that eased the pain behind them. They all piled in the car to leave until they realized that the gate we had was electronic. Uncle Mark forced it open, only to learn that it wouldn’t close. They left anyway. I got up to get some juice and noticed that all the cheese balls that had been served for breakfast had been left on the table. Fear of a return of the insects that had been killed and captured the night before gripped me and after I finished a mouthful of Maracuja, I cleaned the kitchen.
As I was finishing this task, I heard the door open and Aunt Lori and William come in. They had decided not to go and leave the gate open seeing as they had been warned by Lillia, Salomão and Inacia about the dangers of leaving this vital security feature open. With no power, and little sunlight due to the pouring rain outside, everyone went back to bed. Caroline instructed William that he couldn’t sleep in my room due to my headache and directed him to the hammock on the small terrace porch. Meanwhile, I had fallen asleep and woke at about 12:15 to the strangest of noises…nothing. For a minute I thought that they had gotten the power back and went to meeting, but a sight of the white Volkswagen "Wormwood and the Gol" parked in the driveway proved me wrong.
A little while later they all came downstairs one by one. First was William, followed by Caroline, then Aunt Lori and finally Uncle Mark. Aunt Lori made a delicious lunch of the Nioki pasta that had been sitting in the fridge for two weeks taunting William every time he opened the door. After lunch I took a walk around the property to see if I could find a main circuit breaker anywhere. I found something that looked like a breaker near the gate and flipped the switch. I heard Mark bellow from inside the house “We’ve got power”, and could see in the window as the kids danced around the living room. I boiled some water to shave, took a shower and then went about my business for the day.
My headache had mostly subsided by about 5:00 after I sent reinforcement brigade of Advil past my gullet and into my digestive system. We all left for meeting shortly thereafter. Before Gospel meeting this week, the kids who are enrolled in the music school taught by Suzete played their recorders in front of all of us. They played “Here I am to Worship” while Paulo sang the song in Portuguese. It is not often down here that I actually hear a tune that I recognize, and by now I could make out some of the words of the song to compare the lyrics in English and Portuguese.
After the first song was complete Caroline got up and sang with Paulo as the kids played another tune on their recorders. Paulo sang the first and third verse in Portuguese while Caroline sang the second and fourth verse in English. After the kids had finished, the Gospel meeting began. Many of the kids in the music school are from the neighborhood, and it is a great opportunity to get their parents out to meeting. Luis spoke for an hour, and by the end of meeting my rear end was begging for a cushion. We visited with everyone for a little while and then headed to the supermarket to pick up some much needed groceries.
We got there as the store was closing, but we managed to shop for most of what we needed while waiting in line to be checked out. I believe that Brazil has the slowest cashiers on the planet. We got home at 11, and I wanted to just get to bed. William was exhausted also and he was basically asleep by the time I had finished brushing my teeth. I wish I had the sleeping power that this kid has…
Everyone else prepared for meeting while I tried to fall back asleep. Closing my eyes was the only thing that eased the pain behind them. They all piled in the car to leave until they realized that the gate we had was electronic. Uncle Mark forced it open, only to learn that it wouldn’t close. They left anyway. I got up to get some juice and noticed that all the cheese balls that had been served for breakfast had been left on the table. Fear of a return of the insects that had been killed and captured the night before gripped me and after I finished a mouthful of Maracuja, I cleaned the kitchen.
As I was finishing this task, I heard the door open and Aunt Lori and William come in. They had decided not to go and leave the gate open seeing as they had been warned by Lillia, Salomão and Inacia about the dangers of leaving this vital security feature open. With no power, and little sunlight due to the pouring rain outside, everyone went back to bed. Caroline instructed William that he couldn’t sleep in my room due to my headache and directed him to the hammock on the small terrace porch. Meanwhile, I had fallen asleep and woke at about 12:15 to the strangest of noises…nothing. For a minute I thought that they had gotten the power back and went to meeting, but a sight of the white Volkswagen "Wormwood and the Gol" parked in the driveway proved me wrong.
A little while later they all came downstairs one by one. First was William, followed by Caroline, then Aunt Lori and finally Uncle Mark. Aunt Lori made a delicious lunch of the Nioki pasta that had been sitting in the fridge for two weeks taunting William every time he opened the door. After lunch I took a walk around the property to see if I could find a main circuit breaker anywhere. I found something that looked like a breaker near the gate and flipped the switch. I heard Mark bellow from inside the house “We’ve got power”, and could see in the window as the kids danced around the living room. I boiled some water to shave, took a shower and then went about my business for the day.
My headache had mostly subsided by about 5:00 after I sent reinforcement brigade of Advil past my gullet and into my digestive system. We all left for meeting shortly thereafter. Before Gospel meeting this week, the kids who are enrolled in the music school taught by Suzete played their recorders in front of all of us. They played “Here I am to Worship” while Paulo sang the song in Portuguese. It is not often down here that I actually hear a tune that I recognize, and by now I could make out some of the words of the song to compare the lyrics in English and Portuguese.
After the first song was complete Caroline got up and sang with Paulo as the kids played another tune on their recorders. Paulo sang the first and third verse in Portuguese while Caroline sang the second and fourth verse in English. After the kids had finished, the Gospel meeting began. Many of the kids in the music school are from the neighborhood, and it is a great opportunity to get their parents out to meeting. Luis spoke for an hour, and by the end of meeting my rear end was begging for a cushion. We visited with everyone for a little while and then headed to the supermarket to pick up some much needed groceries.
We got there as the store was closing, but we managed to shop for most of what we needed while waiting in line to be checked out. I believe that Brazil has the slowest cashiers on the planet. We got home at 11, and I wanted to just get to bed. William was exhausted also and he was basically asleep by the time I had finished brushing my teeth. I wish I had the sleeping power that this kid has…
Paulo Sings "Here I am to Worship" in Portuguese
Suzete Introduces Caroline Who Sang in English While Paulo Sang in Portuguese
Caroline Poses with Pietro as He Keeps Beat With His Drum
Pietro Showing Me a Thing or Two About Playing a Tambourine
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Boot,Scoot and Buggy...
Both dune buggys that had been reserved were at our house by 7:15 the next morning. We had all been up for about an hour preparing for the day. We figured that we would be gone until almost 5 that evening so we prepared accordingly. William and I loaded in the back of one of the two buggies, each of which was driven by men named Bruno. Ur driver spoke perfect English due to him living in the United States for almost five years. Aunt Lori, Uncle Mark and Caroline piled into the other buggy and we were on our way.
We drove through the downtown traffic in the streets of Natal, until we reached some more secluded roads. Usually these buggys would drive on the beach the entire time, but we had to be in Maracujau by 9:00 for our snorkeling adventure, so the roads were the fastest route to this northern point. When we reached roads with less traffic congestion, the buggy’s picked up speed, making sure to break for about 10 bulls that were crossing the street. Bruno gave us some information regarding some sights during our hour and a half drive which I found quite interesting.
We pulled into the small fishing village of Maracujau at about 8:45. I was surprised how small the village was, seeing as it is one of the prime snorkeling and diving spots in this region of Brazil. We loaded what we needed into a speed boat and made our way to the dive platform that floated above the reef. The water there was only about 7-12 feet deep, so as we approached the reef we had to slow down. We spent the next hour and a half snorkeling, feeding fish and talking with some America tourists from Miami.
We arrived back at the beach and were informed by the Bruno’s that we needed to leave right now to avoid the rising tide. We quickly got into our buggy’s and enjoyed the zigzagging race over the flat packed sand on the beautiful beaches. I had pumped some Brad Paisley music into my Ipod, and sharing an ear bud with young William, we sang the songs we knew as our buggy dodged rocks, coconuts and pools of water. We went off road and drove through a village that reminded me of the African village in the movie Outbreak. Then we reached the dunes.
The buggy’s roared up the piles of white sand and flew down the other side (which from the inside of the buggy looks to be close to a 90 degree angle, although t is nowhere close. We went back and forth through the grains of Sahara like sand. I could hear Caroline and Aunt Lori screaming with delight from the buggy in front of us. The drivers stopped and asked us if we would take a picture to be in the ad that they were doing for the new co-op of drivers they were forming. We agreed and posed on the top of one mountain of sand that overlooked a coconut grove and the beautiful coast of Brazil.
After our first dune experience, we tackled a larger amusement park of sand where I decided to try out the video feature on my digital camera. After a few freaky slides down some steep hills, we stopped at an area for some activities. One of them was a zip line that sent its rider flying down a huge dune into a natural fresh water pond. William, Uncle Mark and I each took a turn on zip line, which I would describe as more relaxing than anything else. After the zip line we decided we would try the water slide, which reminded me a lot of those steep slides you would see at a water park. This wasn’t really a slide, but a few pieces of smooth plastic tarp that were slick with water.
William went first and flew down the side of the dune into the lake below. After hitting the lake he skidded across the top of the water like a flat stone thrown across a glassy pond surface. I took my turn next, and after hitting a bump in the dune I appeared to be airborne for a second or two. After that point I panicked and locked my elbows to the plastic giving myself quite a burn. Because my upper appendage joints were acting as brake system for my body, I didn’t skim nearly as far across the water as my younger cousin had. Then it was Uncle Marks turn. He rocketed down the dune in his deep-water-start barefoot skiing posture and hit the surface of the deep lake. He didn’t stop. He kept skimming across the water as if his Malibu at home was towing him down the Merrimack River. When he finally came to a stop, he let out one of his famous softball “UHHH HAAAAA” and came to the shore with the biggest smile I had on his face in a long time. When we reached the top of the dune, the man who was in charge of this amusement said “Obrigado” (Thank You) to Mark for the entertainment he had given to the large crowd that had gathered atop the dune.
We got back in our buggy’s and headed to a delicious lunch of grilled lobster, shrimp and some pastry appetizers. The restaurant was slow, but delicious and about an hour later we were back on our way down the coast toward Natal. We took a few more rides on the dunes, which were looking more and more like a scene from Lawrence of Arabia. After crossing some small rivers on a “ferry”, which was nothing more than some wooden planks that were propelled along the surface of the water by men pushing large polls along the bottom of the river, we headed to a special location reserved for VIP buggy tour riders.
Because we couldn’t ride the beach the entire way home due to the rising tide, the drivers had decided to take us in this special park that was reserved mostly for the buggy drivers. This was the area that they would come and ride their buggys on their days off. The dunes were high and fast as we zigzagged across the surface of sand. We stopped for some photo opportunities along the way. After about an hour in the park, we headed onward toward Natal. After looking at some gorgeous beaches we could see the sun was setting and we needed to head home. We waited for a ferry, this one was an actually a ferry, to cross a larger river for almost 45 minutes. After leaving the boat, we drove along the shoreline until we arrived back in Ponta Negra.
Uncle Mark and Aunt Lori got dressed to go to Salomão’s anniversary party, while the kids, who were mellow from a day in the sun, hung around the house. Before working on my blog for the evening, I headed to the shower house bathroom. I opened the door to come face to face with a large cockroach. It followed me out of the bathroom as I searched for an object to kill it. William had the bright idea of crushing it with a stone, which worked. I went back into the house about an hour later to hear Caroline ask William what a certain insect was that had climbed upon the coffee table. William replied with the same reply that he gave when referring to any insect he was unfamiliar with, “it’s a locust”. This made me think that it was not in fact a locust, and a first sight of the creature proved my hunch to be correct. There was a second cockroach, I would later find out there had been a third, of the evening.
We drove through the downtown traffic in the streets of Natal, until we reached some more secluded roads. Usually these buggys would drive on the beach the entire time, but we had to be in Maracujau by 9:00 for our snorkeling adventure, so the roads were the fastest route to this northern point. When we reached roads with less traffic congestion, the buggy’s picked up speed, making sure to break for about 10 bulls that were crossing the street. Bruno gave us some information regarding some sights during our hour and a half drive which I found quite interesting.
We pulled into the small fishing village of Maracujau at about 8:45. I was surprised how small the village was, seeing as it is one of the prime snorkeling and diving spots in this region of Brazil. We loaded what we needed into a speed boat and made our way to the dive platform that floated above the reef. The water there was only about 7-12 feet deep, so as we approached the reef we had to slow down. We spent the next hour and a half snorkeling, feeding fish and talking with some America tourists from Miami.
We arrived back at the beach and were informed by the Bruno’s that we needed to leave right now to avoid the rising tide. We quickly got into our buggy’s and enjoyed the zigzagging race over the flat packed sand on the beautiful beaches. I had pumped some Brad Paisley music into my Ipod, and sharing an ear bud with young William, we sang the songs we knew as our buggy dodged rocks, coconuts and pools of water. We went off road and drove through a village that reminded me of the African village in the movie Outbreak. Then we reached the dunes.
The buggy’s roared up the piles of white sand and flew down the other side (which from the inside of the buggy looks to be close to a 90 degree angle, although t is nowhere close. We went back and forth through the grains of Sahara like sand. I could hear Caroline and Aunt Lori screaming with delight from the buggy in front of us. The drivers stopped and asked us if we would take a picture to be in the ad that they were doing for the new co-op of drivers they were forming. We agreed and posed on the top of one mountain of sand that overlooked a coconut grove and the beautiful coast of Brazil.
After our first dune experience, we tackled a larger amusement park of sand where I decided to try out the video feature on my digital camera. After a few freaky slides down some steep hills, we stopped at an area for some activities. One of them was a zip line that sent its rider flying down a huge dune into a natural fresh water pond. William, Uncle Mark and I each took a turn on zip line, which I would describe as more relaxing than anything else. After the zip line we decided we would try the water slide, which reminded me a lot of those steep slides you would see at a water park. This wasn’t really a slide, but a few pieces of smooth plastic tarp that were slick with water.
William went first and flew down the side of the dune into the lake below. After hitting the lake he skidded across the top of the water like a flat stone thrown across a glassy pond surface. I took my turn next, and after hitting a bump in the dune I appeared to be airborne for a second or two. After that point I panicked and locked my elbows to the plastic giving myself quite a burn. Because my upper appendage joints were acting as brake system for my body, I didn’t skim nearly as far across the water as my younger cousin had. Then it was Uncle Marks turn. He rocketed down the dune in his deep-water-start barefoot skiing posture and hit the surface of the deep lake. He didn’t stop. He kept skimming across the water as if his Malibu at home was towing him down the Merrimack River. When he finally came to a stop, he let out one of his famous softball “UHHH HAAAAA” and came to the shore with the biggest smile I had on his face in a long time. When we reached the top of the dune, the man who was in charge of this amusement said “Obrigado” (Thank You) to Mark for the entertainment he had given to the large crowd that had gathered atop the dune.
We got back in our buggy’s and headed to a delicious lunch of grilled lobster, shrimp and some pastry appetizers. The restaurant was slow, but delicious and about an hour later we were back on our way down the coast toward Natal. We took a few more rides on the dunes, which were looking more and more like a scene from Lawrence of Arabia. After crossing some small rivers on a “ferry”, which was nothing more than some wooden planks that were propelled along the surface of the water by men pushing large polls along the bottom of the river, we headed to a special location reserved for VIP buggy tour riders.
Because we couldn’t ride the beach the entire way home due to the rising tide, the drivers had decided to take us in this special park that was reserved mostly for the buggy drivers. This was the area that they would come and ride their buggys on their days off. The dunes were high and fast as we zigzagged across the surface of sand. We stopped for some photo opportunities along the way. After about an hour in the park, we headed onward toward Natal. After looking at some gorgeous beaches we could see the sun was setting and we needed to head home. We waited for a ferry, this one was an actually a ferry, to cross a larger river for almost 45 minutes. After leaving the boat, we drove along the shoreline until we arrived back in Ponta Negra.
Uncle Mark and Aunt Lori got dressed to go to Salomão’s anniversary party, while the kids, who were mellow from a day in the sun, hung around the house. Before working on my blog for the evening, I headed to the shower house bathroom. I opened the door to come face to face with a large cockroach. It followed me out of the bathroom as I searched for an object to kill it. William had the bright idea of crushing it with a stone, which worked. I went back into the house about an hour later to hear Caroline ask William what a certain insect was that had climbed upon the coffee table. William replied with the same reply that he gave when referring to any insect he was unfamiliar with, “it’s a locust”. This made me think that it was not in fact a locust, and a first sight of the creature proved my hunch to be correct. There was a second cockroach, I would later find out there had been a third, of the evening.
The kids got ready for bed at about 8:30. and I was ready too. Uncle Mark and Aunt Lori got home a little after 10 and it was shortly after that, that I drifted off to sleep to obtain (drum roll please) seven and a half full hours of sleep, the longest I had gotten since I had arrived. When I woke up at 6:00 this morning I had a too familiar feeling in my head as I rolled off of my two stacked mattresses and headed for the best friend I had made in Brazil. Its name was Advil…
William and I Before We Leave the House on Lobster Road
Our Buggys After Arriving in Maracujau
Aunt Lori, Uncle Mark and Caroline Heading to the Reef
William and I Head Off on Our Two Hour Tour...Our Two Hour Tour
The Dive Platform Floating Atop the Reef
The Other Buggy Leaving Maracujau
My Buggy Screaming Across the Beach
Flying Through the Sand and Surf
Aunt Lori, Uncle Mark, William and I pose with Bruno for the Ad
Group Shot Overlooking the Coconut Groves and the Coast
Driving Down the Red Dirt Road Through the Small Village
I'm Leaving on a Zip Line...Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again
Uncle Mark's Time of Departure on the Zip Line is at Hand
William Pushes Us Across the River on a "Ferry" with a Huge Pole
William and I On the "Golden Dunes"
The Five of Us on Our Buggys Overlooking a Sea of White Sand
It's Hard to Imagine that God Knows About Each and Every Grain of Sand Isn't It?
This Looks Like a Scene from Jurassic Park
Too Much Time in the Sun Leaves Me Both Stiff and Shrunken
Aunt Lori has Uncle Mark Right Where She Wants Him, In the Palm of Her Hand
A Beautiful Sunset Completes a Beautiful Day
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