Parties!

Monday 5 of us went to visit a friend in Passagem for her birthday.  She turned 104....yes, 104 years old.  Imagine!  We arrived and her son and daughter-in-law greeted us in the front yard.  He painted the house inside and out for her birthday and it was decorated with balloons and flowers.  They said that some of the neighbors had visited in the morning and some family was expected to arrive later in the afternoon.  Dona Margarida was in bed, but they woke her up for her "party."  She wore a long white dress covered in beads and sequins, her nails were painted a bright tangerine and she had plastic iridescent beads around her neck.  She sat there in her wheelchair absolutely sparkling as the afternoon light flooded in the door.  Seldom have I seen anyone so beautiful.  We took a birthday cake and a pie--she wanted the cake.  She chowed down on 2 pieces of cake and gulped a cup of pepsi, followed by a very satisfied belch.  (I thought if cake is the secret to longevity I will survive at least to 100!)  She spoke little, but was very attentive to the conversation in the crowded living room.  Once she looked at me so intently and held my gaze for so long I thought she must be remembering someone else.  How many people has she known in more than a century?  How many has she seen as newborns, how many has she seen die?  More than a century of joy and suffering, of victories and defeats, of hungry days and days when you get all the cake you want.  Which does she treasure most?  The good times when they had enough food on the table and all the kids were at home?  Or the hard times when she was alone?  Can you really enjoy prosperity without knowing poverty?  Oh how many things I'd love to ask her, how many stories she could tell!

Sunday is the feast day of St. John the Baptist, and a huge holiday here.  It's as big of a deal as Christmas. Everyone has been talking about it for a month.  You have to refer to things as being "before São João" or "after São João."  Lucia was very concerned when she discovered 3 weeks ago that I didn't yet know what I was going to wear.  You're supposed to dress like a country bumpkin and can't match, so I didn't really think I needed to give it much thought.  Apparently I was mistaken.  Thank God I have a Brazilian to pick out clothes for me :)  My outfit is perfectly hideous!  I can't wait to show you all photos.  The kids are off school for 2 weeks and no one is working on anything except for official party business.  We are planning a big ol' shindig in the Fazenda.  We're expecting 40-50 people to arrive Saturday morning and stay until Sunday afternoon.  Erica and I are the official decoration committee.  Erica being Idea Department and I am Implementation Department.  (I'm not on food this time because the food is very specific Bahian food that I don't know how to make.  Only Brazilians are allowed in the kitchen.)  We're going to have Brazilian square dancing, complete with lessons Saturday afternoon, a bigger-than-Texas sized BBQ, a bonfire the size of a house, a mock wedding (I'm playing the part of the mother of the groom, but shhhhh, it's a secret), and forró dancing until the am.  And then we get to sleep for a week...HA!  I wish! 

My funny little girl

"School bag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning..."  I sing this song to Rafaela way too often.  She is a huge Abba fan :)

Back in October I wrote a blog all about Rafaela, my funny little girl.  Even though I mention her a lot in my blogs & letters and you've seen a thousand pictures of her, I thought I'd tell you a little more about her, since next to Jesus she is the center of my life here.

So she's 11 right.  Just about "that age."  Caroline and I had to have "the talk" with her.  I was thinking "what the...?  I have to have this talk?  Already?  I haven't even given birth yet--usually moms have a decade or so to think about it.  And I have to do in in Portuguese?  Lord have mercy..."  Anyways, it was fairly painless.  And now I'm teaching her to tell time.  Seems a bit backwards, no?  Usually kids learn how to tell time long before they learn about things like maxi pads.  Not in this school system.  Also the time has come for her to start wearing a bra.  I asked Lucia to buy her one.  (What we don't get in donations she buys at a sort of park-n-swap.)  She bought her a red one.  Great.  Thanks Lucia--a red bra for her to wear with her white school shirts.  How very Brazilian.  Now she has 4 bras, not one of them is subtle and she is thrilled to make a fashion statement with her noticeably lacy, frilly undergarments.  Oh well, she is Brazilian after all.  No one else sees a problem with this. 

She is a very creative cook.  She's just started cooking in the past 6 months, but of course, she claimed she already knew how before--some sort of instinct.  I tried to explain to her how to cook pasta, but of course she already knew so brushed me off.   She dumped dry pasta in a pot, filled it with water, put it on the stove and walked away for 20 minutes.  It was like glue.  So I explained a few more times and now she's kinda getting the hang of it.  When we have ketchup it goes in everything.  And sweetened condensed milk goes in all desserts--oh, and on popcorn!  She made a dessert last week: it was cream mixed with sweetened condensed milk, sprinkled with sweetened coconut, with little dollops of jam.  I tried it because I'm nice like that.  We have a myriad of spices that my parents brought and she puts at least 5 different spices in every dish.  She tosses them into the pot one by one with a little flourish as if she's on some French cooking show. (she did not learn this from me!)  It's very endearing that she likes to cook, sometimes she listens to my suggestions, but usually we end up eating something completely new and different. 

On Mother's Day we were expecting her parents to come to the Fazenda, but they didn't show.  They don't have a phone and who knows why they didn't come, maybe they didn't have money for the bus, maybe her mom was too sick.  So after lunch we decided to pay them a surprise visit.  Mateus, Diego, Rafa, & caught a ride into Salvador and they led me through the winding treacherous streets of their favela.  Actually I can't call them streets--they were narrow paths up and down crumbling concrete steps.  We met their dad outside a tiny bar (a counter with a few concrete blocks for bar stools) drinking with a few friends.  He was overjoyed to see us and took us down the path to their house.  Their house: a 10' x 15' block room with bricks holding down the tin roof.  My bedroom back home is bigger.   A curtain sectioned off the bathroom and there was no kitchen sink.  I don't know where they would get water--maybe there was a spigot outside.  A twin mattress was propped up against one wall, two chairs and a small amoire against the other, clothes hanging on a rope suspended from the roof.  They did have a fairly new, small stove and oven and a stereo someone had given them recently.  Their father was very proud of the stereo and spent about 20 minutes trying to get it to work.  The place was spotless.  Not a spec of dirt on the concrete floor, no spiderwebs  in the corners or dust on the chairs.  (Can't say that for my house!)  Their mother was inside with the door and window closed, alone in the dark stifling heat.   She came alive at the sight of her children.  We propped open the door to let the sun and breeze fill the house and the kids gave her presents: a white satin blouse (what is it with Rafa and white satiny clothing???  honestly?), some costume jewelry, two perfumes, a body spray, and scented body lotion.  She was positively giddy.  She sprayed, misted, and rubbed good-smelling stuff all over her and laughed laughed laughed.  She even agreed to leave the house (apparently this is rare) and go with us to visit their aunt and cousins who live nearby.  The afternoon was lovely getting to know their family, watching soccer, eating popcorn.  Rafa got to play with her cousins (her aunt has 7 or 8 kids at home) and cheer for Bahia, her favorite team.  We had to leave too soon.

I am a terrible mother—just ask Rafaela.  A couple weeks ago was Tete’s 8^th birthday and we were going to have a party.  It was a cold, rainy Saturday night.  It had been raining non-stop all week and was no more than 60 degrees.  Everything was muddy—all of our clothes, shoes, the entire Fazenda covered in mud and small rivers.  Rafa comes out of her room in a sundress.  And not just any sundress, mind you, but a flimsy, above-the-knee, gleaming white, spaghetti strap sundress complete with a sequin-covered bodice.  I hate this dress.  It is waaaaaaay too old for her (she’s 11), and talk about totally inappropriate for a rainy, muddy, cold night.  I laughed out loud and asked,

“What are you wearing?”  (meaning “What the !@*&^?#*!?! do you think you are wearing?”)

“My dress.”  (As if she only has one.  And as if she saw absolutely no problem with this.)

“You’re not wearing that.”

“But it’s my favorite dress!”   

                                                                         

“You are NOT wearing a sundress tonight!  Look outside, it’s 60 degrees and raining.  Not to mention completely muddy.  The dress will be filthy and you’ll catch a cold.  (I should’ve thrown in “You’ll shoot your eye out!”)  Go put on pants and a sweatshirt.”

At this point she really started to panic because she realized I was not going to budge.  And so the tears started…

“But it’s a party!  Everybody’s going to be dressed up!!! WAAAAHHHHHH!”

I had to excuse myself from the room because I just couldn’t hold back my laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.  I went for my daily freezing shower and left her to her tears for a few minutes.  “Everybody’s going to be dressed up.”  Right.  Everybody.  All 32 of us who live in the Fazenda.  The muddy, wet, cold Fazenda.  Everybody’s going to be in white sundresses and starched linen pants.  Sure Rafa.  I was laughing at her silliness and at the flashbacks of all the tears I shed over clothing during my adolescence.  Oh the poor girl!  I could feel her pain, but how absurd!  I thought of my poor mother J  Funny how girls are girls the whole world over.  It doesn’t matter that Rafa is a poor girl who lives in the country with a bunch of crazy foreigners.  She has the same desire to look pretty for every occasion. 

So I finished my refreshing shower and went to help her.  We picked a different dress. (“I HAVE to wear a dress!  I am NOT wearing pants to a party!  WAAAHHHHH!”  ok, ok, I understand.)  One with thicker fabric, a dark floral pattern, and that reached past her knees.  Paired it with a sweater, earrings, and I loaned her a chic scarf.  (Come to think of it, I never did get that scarf back.  Hmmmmmm)  I wore earrings and a scarf too, it was a party after all ;) 

Bet you thought I fell off the face of the earth, eh?  No, just got out of the habit of writing after vacation.  Now I realize that more than nearly 3 months has passed since I posted.  

So in a nutshell, vacation was fabulous!  If you received my sponsor letter, you already heard all about it, but if not, here it is...

My parents and oldest brother and his family came to visit in March.  We all spent a week in Salvador relaxing on the beach, touring the historic part of the city, and visiting the Fazenda.  Plus they were here for my birthday!  One day some of my friends from the Fazenda spent the day with us on the beach and another day we all went to the Fazenda.  It was truly wonderful to have my two “families” meet.  Photos: https://picasaweb.google.com/103680117011724976751/BrazilianVacation2012Salvador?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCLfI_snExZDujAE&feat=directlink

Then my parents and I went to Iguaçu Falls on the border of Brasil and Argentina.  There is no doubt as to why this is now one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World.  It was absolutely marvelous!  The immensity of the falls is inconceivable, as is the creativity of our awesome God.  We spent a day on each side of the falls to get the full scope and visited the world’s largest bird park.  Photos: https://picasaweb.google.com/103680117011724976751/BrazilianVacation2012IguacuFalls?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCJTFjsKH1d3TWA&feat=directlink

Next we headed to the enchanting Rio de Janeiro.  We had a whirlwind day touring the major sites: Sugarloaf Mountain, Christ the Redeemer statue, historic neighborhoods, and cathedrals.  Then two relaxing days on Ipanema and Copacabana beaches where we ate lots of delicious seafood and soaked up the charm of Rio.  Photos: https://picasaweb.google.com/103680117011724976751/BrazilianVacation2012RioDeJaneiro?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCIzzrcKnp6qzkQE&feat=directlink

After this two week adventure, I led my parents into the jungle to spend 5 days in the Fazenda.  They fared far better than I thought they would with the plethora of bugs and lack of amenities.  Their biggest challenge was cooking with so few ingredients or utensils.  But where there’s a will there’s a way!  The greatest gift of this vacation was having them with me, to share my life here, for a little while.  We cooked for todo mundo, made bread, visited friends in Passagem and Simões Filho, fixed leaky faucets and broken door handles, and played with the kids.  I felt like they brought with them a little piece of me that had been missing—something from my innocence, something from before I can remember that only they hold in their hearts.  And they left a little bit of themselves here too, so that now it feels more like home.  People are still imitating the way my mom said “Obrigada!” with a little nod of the head and her very American accent and often I greet Rafaela in the morning with a boisterous “Buon giorno!” like my dad did.  (“Buon giorno” is Italian; “Good morning” in Portuguese is “Bom dia,” but Rafa understood what he meant.)  When they left they said “You sure do have some good friends here,” and thank God I do because it was hard to say good-bye to them again.  Photos pending-hope to post them on picasa soon.

I’m learning to live with some serious rain now that it’s winter here.  Sometimes it takes a week for my clothes to dry and mold seems to grow on everything—clothes, shoes, wooden utensils.  It’s kinda freaky.  Like something from a 70’s sci-fi movie—instead of the Blob, it’s THE MOLD.  Mmmmmwaahhahahahaha!

I imagine you all are planning your summer vacations.  I’d love to hear from you and see photos J

Xo

Sunny