Get comfy, this may take a while… a long while. Go grab a pumpkin latte, I’m sure they’re being served by now. I do miss autumn in the States, but I digress. I thought about breaking this into smaller posts but then just rolled with one long post. Sorry, not sorry. So anyhoots, this is my first mission trip with only Brazilians; I am the sole American. No translator, just me, some incorrectly conjugated verbs, some seriously broken Portuguese sentences, and my friend Denise, with her broken English. Somehow we make this relationship work. I was very nervous about this trip due to the language barrier. How could God use me if I can’t communicate? What am I going to do? How can I be useful? This replayed in my mind on repeat and I remembered that there is no condemnation in Christ and I took those thoughts captive by praying, literally, “Get behind me Satan,” every time those thoughts crept up.
Denise invited me on this trip and, of the 10 team members, she is the only one I knew and it is with an organization which I am unfamiliar. The flight from São Paulo to Belém is about 3 hours and 40 minutes. In the north, real far north. This will prove to make a big difference when it comes to weather and culture. The weather was hot, always, and sticky humid; not like in Atibaia, where it’s more of a dry heat. It was almost oppressive. I can’t image it there in the summer. Culturally, there was WAY more handshaking and a whole lot less hugging. I’m not a hugger by nature so you would think this would be great news for me but after a year and a half of being greeted with hugs and oftentimes side cheek kisses, it was rather startling. I would be the one going for a hug when, quickly seeing the arm moving forward, would adjust for a handshake.
First off, I am fairly well traveled, independent, and I like a semblance of control (okay lots of control). This was hard for me to rely on someone else, especially someone that I can’t communicate easily with, but I know God is stretching me; I stretch to avoid breaking. Kevin would be so proud of me. I’ve come a long way from crying on the bus in Bovilia 18 years ago. No tears this trip. A little repressed frustration absolutely. But nothing that broke me.
The airport is Belém is small and easily navigable. In-country security was easy peasy, shoes stayed on, water stayed in the water bottle, liquids stayed in my bag. The only thing required to be taken out was electronic devices and, as I only brought my phone, that was a breeze too. My over the 100ml limit of bug spray even made it through. Maybe the agents knew that I would die without it and took mercy on me.
The rush of hot air hit me hard as we exited the sliding doors of the airport. I immediately started sweating (which was the other title I considered for this post- Sweaty and Sticky All Week- but felt that would distract from the mission). Denise was trying to get her Uber app to work, with no success for like 10 minutes, which felt like an hour. Next thing I know, she’s motioned me over to the center median (mainly to get away from the cab drivers who wanted to charge us more than double the Uber rate), where she was asking this random lady if she could help her with the app. Denise can and will talk to anyone. It truly is a gift. So this lady, who is waiting for her Uber to arrive, happily helps her, but to no avail. They are speaking way too fast for me to follow so I just kept an eye on all the luggage. (We had A LOT of luggage. We were supposed to only bring a backpack and light carry-on, as we would be embarking and disembarking a few boats and doing a lot of walking and needed to be able to do so easily; but Denise had gotten donations of clothes and toys for the kids so we had extremely heavy checked bags as well). When the lady’s Uber arrived Denise talked to the driver and next thing I know we’re sharing a Uber with this random lady. We had so much luggage, and Brazilians typically drive compact cars, that the lady sat in the front with her luggage in her lap; as ours was filling up all of the trunk and half of the backseat. Before we drove off, the driver pointed to the backpack that was left sitting on the curb of the flowerbed. The lady upfront jumped out and grabbed it and we sped off to our hotel.
By the time we arrived at the hotel, you would have thought those three ladies had been friends for years. This is a scenario that would play out in all of our many, many Uber rides except two. Brazilians are just friendly people and Denise is a talker. The conversion moved too fast for me to make any meaningful contribution, so I sat quietly squished up against the door handle, snatched a few pictures after I got my phone unwedged from my pocket, and thanked the Lord that the car was air conditioned. During the ride, I also redownloaded the Uber app for future outings, which would prove to be valuable. I offered to pay using PIX, kind of like Venmo/PayPal, but everyone uses it here; individuals, stores, and businesses. Denise worked on getting the luggage unloaded so I jumped out to help and the driver started yelling at me. It took me a second to understand that she was trying to remind me to not forgot our backpack but it’s not our backpack. Then Denise tells the driver that it’s the ladies backpack, to which the lady replies that it’s not hers either. Apparently, I am an accomplice to a robbery. The backpack was sitting beside us when the driver pulled up. When she saw it still sitting there after we got in the car, she reminded us to get it, thinking it belonged to one of us. The lady jumped out and grabbed it, so Denise and I assumed it was hers. The lady assumed it was ours and was trying to be nice and she grabbed it. We were so packed in with luggage that it would have taken a while for one of us to get out. The backpack must have belonged to one of the construction workers at the airport. Ooops! I’m just guessing here, but committing a crime is not the best way to start any trip, but especially a mission trip. We left the backpack with the driver to return to the airport after she dropped the other lady off.
We made serval trips to get the luggage to the front desk only to learn that, although our room was reserved, the hotel said it wasn’t paid for. I had sent Denise money for my half weeks ago. Her hubby paid using Booking.com but the hotel has no record of it. So we spent a good bit of time trying to find out what happened. I still don’t know, but we got our room. I think Denise paid for the room again and Tiago, her hubby, had to deal with Booking.com. While we’re waiting to get our room, I noticed I never entered my passcode for PIX when I was paying for the ride (I got distracted with the backpack fiasco) and now I was staring at the little spinning wheel as my phone tried to connect to the internet. The Uber driver noticed she hadn’t been paid too and came in to the hotel to ask about payment. I showed her on my phone where I was trying to pay but in the end I wound up paying with cash so she could get that poor lady in the car to her final destination.
We went to our room and turned on the A/C and put our bags down on the literally…I kid you not…1 inch “mattress” atop the wood frame. I know because I measured it. This is funny because we arrived a day ahead of the team to get a good night’s sleep before the 12 hours of sleeping in a hammock on a boat. Oh well.
With luggage in the room, we set out for a late lunch/early dinner. We asked the front desk for a recommendation and off we headed on foot to Amazônia Na Cuia for some local Paraense (we are in the state of Para) food. The food was good. Starting from the top, the broth-y dish is a local favorite called Tacacá. This broth with dried shrimp contained jambu. Jambu, as the waitress informed us, will make your tongue tingly and that was completely normal. (I can hear in my head now how Trev was going to describe to the police about how I was drugged before I was kidnapped). A quick google search (so it has to be the truth, right?) confirmed that the jambu leaves are known for their tingling sensation followed by a numbing effect. It actually tasted fine but the tingly sensation was too distracting to fully enjoy the dish. Top right, was our safe bet of yellow bacurizinho, a yellow hake fish fillet, with rice, farofa, French fries, and a bean vinagrete. This is the first time I’ve had black eyed peas in my vinagrete in Brazil. The dish on the bottom is Moqueca de Filhote, which is kind of a fish stew with fish, coconut milk, onions, peppers or carrots, herbs, and two little crab claw things with some kind of hard boiled eggs. It was very flavorful and didn’t have a strong fish taste at all. All the dishes were served in cuia (hollowed out gourd) bowls. And, of course, we tried the açaí. I had been warned that the açaí is different from here and it was. In the north, they eat it room temperature and they put it on their fish. In region in Manus they put sugar in it. But here, they are purest. I thought it tasted like creamy avocado; kind of earthy. I’ll stick to my sweetened with guaraná dessert version. We had a good meal and good fellowship until Denise broke the restaurant’s door handle as we were leaving. In her defense, I’m pretty sure it was already broken when it came off in her hand. By this point, I could tell this would not be like one of my normal trips. Ha!
After our bellies were full, Denise wanted to do a little souvenir shopping. We ended up at a shopping mall. Shopping malls are still very popular in bigger cities here in Brazil. However, this higher end shopping was not what she was thinking, so I told her to ask the lady at the information desk for a suggestion. This lead to us making a new friend. Gabee, speaks Portuguese, English, German, and Italian. This young lady had been to the University of the Nations by YWAM (Youth With A Mission) and graduated with a degree in missions work with a desire to become a missionary. Denise swapped numbers and invited her to join us the next morning.
Low and behold, they were both serious. After breakfast we meet up with Jafer, a member of our team, and Gabee to go to the market, Ver-O-Peso. We left our luggage at the terminal and set off. It was great having Gabee there. She was like my very own personal tour guide. Telling me stories of the area, finding the better vendors, and warning me when we were in sketchier areas, etc. I was actually starting to think she was going on the trip with us.
Two quick random comments. One, in this region when it comes to the Lord’s Supper, they use açaí as the wine and tapioca as the bread. Two, when choosing an Uber, Uber Comfort does not mean a bigger Uber; it just costs more. Ask me how I know.
I love stories. She told me about the Cheiro do Pará, made of an infusion of herbs roots, and barks; typically patchouli and priprioca, which is the smelly good stuff they use to clean the streets with by the market because the smell of fish and other things becomes so bad. I bought a small bottle to bring home. Tucker loved it. I thought it was very strong but I guess that’s kind of the point. She told me of the story of the jade frogs I kept seeing. They are called muiraquitã and the story goes that a tribe of Amazonian warrior women, Icamibas; known for their expertise with the bow and arrow, would dive into the a sacred lake during an annual moon festival and grab the greenish clay from the bottom at midnight. They would mold them into frogs, or other animal shapes, to create an amulet that was given to the Guacaris, male warriors, as a token of affection. It was believed to bring good luck, happiness, and healing properties to the the wearers. I brought back one of the frog charms for Mason. Denise and I also bought these little wooden boats for our kiddos. Gabee said that during Círio de Nazaré, a big holiday celebrated the second Sunday in October, people will put their prayers in these boats and parade through town with them on their heads, paying for their prayers to be answered. I love hearing stories about different cultures. Though I believe in none of these things, it helps to know what people believe. It helps in creating opportunities to talk and hopefully leading to gospel conversations.
We meet up with the team for lunch and then headed to the boat. Gabee helped tote our luggage and everything. What a sweet young lady.
We said our goodbyes and embarked with the rest of the group.
The team was made up of a some really sweet people who love the Lord. We are from different cities and states, but you would never know it. Everyone just clicked. We set up our hammocks together with our luggage in the middle. Later in the evening the group presented the gospel to the people on the boat and several people requested prayer. I must admit, this experience was kind of new for me. One, I’ve never slept in a hammock (or at least I tried to sleep), especially not out in the open with hundreds of other people. The hammocks hang so close to one another you can almost hear each other breathe. The lights never dimmed, a fact that I didn’t know or paid attention to when I hung my hammock right under one. The man holding onto my hammock at 10:30 at night was also a little unsettling. Abuse and trafficking is prevalent in this area. Prostitutes worked the boat and we were not allowed to go places alone. It was not my favorite experience; especially without Trevor. We have men in our group but I would have felt more at ease if Trevor had been there. I’m also not used to the John the Baptist in the wilderness approach of just standing up randomly and yelling out The Word to people. Other members of the team did that, I just kept a watch out for people to raise their hands for prayer and directed team members to them to pray with them.
The river is so big, you forget you’re on a river and not the ocean, especially when you see a barge carrying 30 tractor trailers on it, float by you.
A few things to note about this region of Brazil. Sex trafficking, sex tourism; both including children, and sexual and physical abuse are rampant in this area. It is known throughout Brazil. Brazil is considered to have the worst levels of child sex trafficking after Thailand; largely due to high levels of poverty and inequality in certain regions of the country, like this one.
The mission organization requested that we not take any pictures of the kids faces. Much of this has to do with the amount of abuse these children face daily, often at the hands of family members and with not wanting the kids to feel uncomfortable. So most of my pictures will be blurry, have faces blurred out, or taken from behind. Culturally, the kids are sometimes naked and women go without bras and nursing babies happens, whenever it’s needed, openly. So this also meant that I just didn’t take many pictures in general. I think that’s great advice for team members anyway. I recommend that teams that come and visit us stay off their phones as much as possible, so I was good with that. The only stinky thing is I don’t have lots of pictures to share with you and the ones I can share aren’t great anyway. You’re just going to have to read it and not see it.
We disembarked in Breves on Marajó Island and made our way to the house we were staying and sorted and organized the things Denise had brought. Then we were headed to the Lixão, or large trash pile. The community of children that we ministered to first on the island live out this road among the trash.
Carol and Phillipe dressed at clowns and presented the gospel. It was great. Jafer was our worship leader. My job was to play with the kids, which with my limited Portuguese, was perfect. Usually, I’m the one dressing up or giving devotionals. I love VBS and Camp!!! But it’s different now. I’m still learning the language. I miss it but at the same time, I found other ways to be useful. Thankful some of the kids knew rock, paper, scissors (pedra, papel, tesoura) and that was my quick “in” with the boys. The girls quickly followed suit. I also held babies as the moms searched through the clothes and shoes we brought for them. It was so heartbreaking to see many of these moms because many were only about 14 or 15 years old. Their faces still youthful despite their hard life thus far. Instead of looking for items, they stood back nursing their babies. My heart ached. I love holding babies so that worked out too.
After two gospel presentations were given and all the clothes and shoes were handed out, we headed back to the house to shower. I was soaking wet from sweat. I don’t know how Brazilians do it. Don’t get me wrong, they were sweating too but not to my degree. The place we stayed had one bathroom for all ten of us and the toilet wouldn’t flush properly; oftentimes needing to fill buckets of water to dump in the bowl to force it to drain, so it took a while for everyone to shower. Still this was way better than a bucket shower and a pit latrine, both of which I’ve used on other mission trips. During this downtime we were able to sit in some air conditioning in certain rooms of the house and rest. The mosquitoes, though, were not limited to certain rooms. They were all over the place. The moment you got out of the shower you hosed yourself down in bug spray. So you never fully felt clean because you were either covered in sweat or bug spray, oftentimes both.
That evening we walked about twenty minutes to a park type area where locals and tourists, alike, mingle by the river. We went with a guitar and balls in hand to play with the kids and look for opportunities to share the gospel and pray. This led to several great conversations. I had bought a brand new Bible for this trip. It was bilingual and had the words Go Preach the Gospel to All the World on the cover in Portuguese. I had stuffed it in my bag before we left because you never know, right? Well, it was needed. Julian and Rafael witnessed to a teenage boy and he accepted Christ. They wanted to give him a Bible and I was the only one that brought a Bible with them that night so I gave it to him. He was so excited about the Bible and he showed up to the church we invited him to the next night. Maybe this young man will continue to spread the gospel with it, as the cover commands. I was worried about not being to communicate in Portuguese well when all I needed to do was trust that God would provide ways. All I needed was to have God’s Word and He took care of the rest.
On the opposite end of the spectrum being American provided it’s own unique opportunities with the middle school, high school age kids. Once they heard me speak, I was like a circus clown. They were like moths drawn to my English flame. They swarmed me; begging me to talk to them. Some followed me down the street staring and pointing so I would start speaking in English and Portuguese with them. I drew them in and the others took it from there. Team work makes the dream work.
At one point they were asking me to dance. Talk about random. But I obliged, and busted out some old school Running Man on them. All in all, it was a good night making connections.
Brazilians eat late and stay up late so I knew I wasn’t getting to bed at 9pm, like my old lady self does at home, but I wasn’t ready to not even have dinner until 10:30pm or 11pm, then clean the kitchen, and then get ready for bed. Pair that with that fact that I’m a light sleeper and was sharing a bed with Denise, on my left, who snores, and Leticia, on my right, in the floor snoring and it was a long week. Don’t get me wrong, they are wonderful ladies and it was great that we were roommates. It might sound like complaining but it’s not. A lot of these things I’m writing about are more for me than for you. In the past, I would have broke by all the schedule interruptions and things but it’s good to see how God is refining me. I rolled with it and that’s a big deal for highly type A personality. God is good and God is faithful.
The next day is what I call the day of language misunderstandings. We were supposed to write in the WhatsApp group when we would be showering to create a schedule. No one had written in, so I waited until that evening and I wrote that I would shower at 6am as I’m an early riser. It was supposed to be church, getting to know the city, and then evening church. Somewhere plans changed and I didn’t know or understand. Misunderstanding #1 – Only half the group would go to church in the morning. The other half would go in the evening. I’m guessing that had to do with transportation issues but I’m not sure. I, apparently was part of the night group. So at about 12am before bed, I told Julian that someone who was going to church in the morning could have my time slot. (No one ever signed up for a time slot the whole trip but 6am was pretty wide open each morning so I mostly took my cold showers then). So the night crew was responsible for cleaning house and making lunch while the morning group was at church. Misunderstanding #2 – We gave the house a real good cleaning and then started lunch but by the time the church group returned, we were being told that we needed to hurry and get lunch finished. We quickly changed a few things to get it done quicker and got the food set out. The food then got cold as we waited for several of the local missionaries and helpers to arrive. This led to rushing to get lunch cleaned up so we could leave “to get to know the city.” So with everything cleaned, I was waiting around for our rides and I see Lecitica with a towel and then Denise with a towel. This lead to misunderstanding #3. Apparently, getting to know the city, was not the walking tour I thought it was. They were taking us to the river to go swim. I was standing there waiting on our ride thinking I was ready to go when all the while I was not. I had to go run and cram my swimsuit and towel in my bag and change out of my tennis shoes about the time the rides showed up. People were then waiting on me. You know I hate to be late or have people waiting on me. Uuugghh. Misunderstanding #4 – I am a seatbelt freak. Most of the team hopped on motos (motorcycles).
Ninety percent of people on the island that drive, drive a moto and they drive like something out of a video game. Denise and I don’t do motos so we were waiting on the two cars. The cars were full. I was mistaken when I thought that a 5 seater car was only going to take 5 people. We had 6 in one and 9 (this car had kids) in the other. Every fiber of my being was thinking about how unsafe this was. But as we drove, I saw…and if I’m lying, I’m dying…a family of 7 on a moto. This is very common. I also saw a little kid about 5 or 6 on the back of a moto that had fallen asleep and no longer holding on to the adult in from of them. Life is different here.
With the cars crammed full, we took off behind the motos. Denise and I ended up in different cars. We passed the lixão, the prison (pictured above), and turned out a dirt road; a very, very bumpy dirt road, especially with an adult sitting in your lap. After miles of eating dirt, as the car didn’t have a/c, all the windows were down, we arrived at the river.
The river at Paraíso do Caruáca was like a makeshift day use area. You could swim (not happening) or kayak (more my speed) or chill with some food (absolutely my speed). The owner had put boards down and made a platform in the river so you can just sit in the river and get cooled off if you didn’t feel like swimming. I stayed with everyone’s bags. I waited for Denise’s car to arrive to see if she wanted to kayak. She didn’t want to get in the freezing water but was good to boat around. Everyone else was in their swim clothes. I had to go change. When I went to unpack my swimsuit, I realized, in my haste, that I packed my swim shorts but grabbed my pj shorts instead of my swim top. In my defense, they are both the same color, however they have no where near the same functionality. I had an extra shirt that I could change into so I went with that. The line was first come first serve for the kayaks so we decided to just hang out and talk. They had nonalcoholic drinks (we tried the Amazonia flavor with guaraná, avocado, and peanuts and the melon flavor with watermelon, mint, flaxseed, and coconut water) and something fried similar to mandioca, which I like, so we ordered that and watched everybody play in the river. We made sure that the drinks were made with bottled water, as most islanders use the river water for cooking, cleaning, etc. No part of me wanted any part of that.
As we watched them swim, I was introduced to Gabi, the missionary that we would serve with the rest of the week. Gabi, introduced me to Mel, the daughter of the missions leader of the church we were working with and her friend. Mel is learning English and wanted to talk to with me. It was great. They were both so sweet.
We talked for a while and then it led to an all out English class. I looked around and the other team members were there practicing right along with me and Mel. Brazilians are so chill. Abram’s wife, didn’t even say anything as Maria and I ate her fries that we thought were ours, that was until, as we were leaving, they called our name for ours. Oops, misunderstanding #5 for the day. I gave my testimony and then it was time to head back for church. Misunderstanding #6 came when we got back to the house with ten minutes to be ready for service. Although, this wasn’t an actual misunderstanding as it was poor planning, I wiped off with a baby wipe and threw on my dress and was ready to go. Others were unhappy with not getting a shower, especially before church. Brazilians like to be clean, taking multiple showers every day. Not a problem for this dry skinned American. We went to a new church plant to be an encouragement to the pastor. As always, dinner was after 10pm and then it was time for bed.
The next day we walked to the men’s rehabilitation center. Here up to 12 men, (currently it is housing 11) come and stay for the eight month rehab program. We made introductions, sang worship songs, and then broke into groups. I don’t have lots to report here as the men opened up about the life choices that lead them to this place, how they’re lives were changing, questioned what is next for them, and how Jesus would or would not be a part of that. I did my best to follow along. It’s amazing how God can use people. Though I do not have a testimony of freedom from addiction like theirs, I would find out that many of our team members had walked similar paths of suicide attempts, sexual abuse and promiscuity, and witchcraft, and drug addiction. They were able to empathize and sympathize.
The men make brooms from empty soda bottles as a means of raising funds for the program. Denise and I tried our hand at it. I didn’t do too bad.
We “cleaned” dishes and ended the day with exercise and games. We taught them how to play Uno, which was funny how some of them got so into it.
At the end of our time there that day we prayed with a guy that was getting ready to leave the program after his alcoholism led him to attempted murder and subsequently to this place. Another man, shared about how great it was to feel seen and treated with respect today. You could tell from his tone and words, that he had been treated as “less than” by the church due to his drug addiction. He said he wished the church could act more like we did with today. I have heard this often growing up; that the church was full of hypocrites and people at church thought they were better than others. I thought that was the case for a while, as I had heard it often as a kid, but when the Holy Spirt showed me that none are perfect but Jesus and that I could never be “good enough” to earn salvation, my life as a 22 year old forever changed. My life changed. I knew I needed Jesus and that every single person in that church building needed him just as much as I did, you couldn’t keep me out of church or His Word. I pray that those men realize this too. Everyone has sinned (some more publicly than others) and all have fallen short of the glory of God. ALL. OF. US. The ONLY answer is to repent and believe on the name of Jesus Christ.
We were supposed to minister to the ribeirinhos, those that live along the river, and spend the night in their village in our hammocks but the kids of the host there became sick and we had to change our plans. Denise and I had been waiting to go to their village and were pretty disappointed but neither or us minded that this meant no sleeping outside in our hammocks or bathing in the river.
There were community spots like this on the island where people can come and get water jugs filled for their homes.
Some of the group had a meeting at the church about leading worship at the new church plants. The rest of us stayed behind to make dinner. Denise and I laid on the couch with our feet up against the back of the couch to help with my very, very swollen ankles. We finished watching the movie, End of the Spear, as we did so.
The meeting was running late so we decided to walk into town meet the rest of the team at a pizza place instead at about 10pm. The rest of the team showed up at 10:35pm We left the restaurant at 11:50pm and started the walk back. We had to be up at 4:15am the next morning to catch a boat to a nearby island. I think I’m getting too old for this. Ha!
Denise and I were the first to be ready so we started our 25-35 minute walk with Jafer and Rafael to the terminal. Rafael was lugging the heavy suitcase down the uneven road, when he flagged down a moto taxi. He loaded up himself and the suitcase and took off. The three of us continued walking until the moto returned for Jafer, who had his guitar. That left me and Denise walking alone at 5 o’clock in the morning through town to the terminal. Not my favorite situation to be in but we survived. We took the opportunity to get our pictures taken with the Breves sign. Kind of creepy to be out in the dark like that but we were together so we made the most of it. The rest of the group arrived group by group and we loaded up on a much smaller boat for a short two hour boat ride.
This group is a group of prayer warriors. Before we boarded the boat, they were praying with people.
Today we were serving at a children’s ministry on the Island of Melgaço. This town on the island is super chill compared to Breves. Far less people and motos.
After we got off the boat, this was the second time we had stopped to pray with people.
This was heartbreak day. The kids we ministered too were pitiful. The abuse and effects of incestuous relationships were evident. This is where I met the naked or almost naked kids playing. Many, not all, of the kids flinched when you approached, not knowing what kind of touch they would receive. This island is very poor and the education system is terrible. They had one of the lowest levels of human development in Brazil. Again, being American attracted the older kids. The younger kids didn’t understand my Portuguese and shyed away.
Trash is everywhere and many go barefoot. One of the little boys took us to his house but his dad wasn’t home but he ran in and brought us out two cups of coffee. There was no way I was drinking that but it was so sweet of him.
We broke into groups and preformed home visits. I was paired with Rafael and Carol (the one dressed as the clown though she wasn’t in costume at this point) and we visited the home of a women that had a teenager with cerebral palsy along with a seven year old and a five year old. The young boys were shy to come out at first. We visited with her for a while and I prayed with her in English and then Rafael and Carol prayed with her in Portuguese. While they were praying I was able to get the older boy to come out and visit. I presented him with a salvation bracelet and we talked about it. He didn’t make a profession, I’m not sure he understood my Portuguese well either, but a seed was planted. His younger brother ran out of the house and hid behind a pallet. The older brother and I went out there to see if he wanted to play rock, paper, scissors, when I heard Rafael call out the window for me to come back inside. Some men were weed eating right along the road and he said it wasn’t safe to be out there due to all the trash. They shut the window too and it just took about two minutes for a rock to come flying in and land beside the older brother. Thankfully, he was okay. It was a sweet time with this lady who felt like she was alone. That day she knew God sees her, hears her, and cares for her.
After lunch, we gathered the kids back to the house and did the clown skit again, led worship, and served the kids a snack. Dona Denise, owner of the house where the kids meet after school, fed us and hosted us. She also has a well and shares her water with the others in the community. Granted, it’s the river water but at least it’s water.
This is a new ministry for Phillipe and Gabi so it was good to come alongside them and encourage them. It kind of reminded me of a new Vinde program. I invited them to come to São Paulo and check out our program for ideas.
Denise is amazing. She can be a little pushy but she is SO well meaning. She loves the Lord and loves telling others about Him. She was immediately loving on kiddos. Even though we were told not to hug and not to have them in our laps, she did so without thinking about anything but showing them the love of Jesus. She can talk to anybody and make them feel heard and loved.
Back on the boat to Breves, I had an interesting conversation with Marcos and Denise about dolphins. I originally thought I misunderstood but Marcos whipped out his phone and put in the translator just to make sure I heard what I heard. One of the ladies we met, when talking about one of her five kids, said that the dad was a dolphin. You could clearly see she had some mental issues but in that area they believe that if you get pregnant and don’t know who the dad is, it’s because a dolphin transformed into a beautiful man and impregnated you. Yep, my face looked probably like yours does now, jaw opened and brows squeezed together in confusion while you try to process it.
Moving on, it was time for a quick cold shower and then a walk to a local missionary’s house for a little bible study.
We discussed Nicodemus’s night meeting with Jesus and then head back for dinner.
The next day we were back out at the rehab center since we couldn’t visit the ribeirinhos.
We used this day to clean up the property and paint the building.
Above is a picture of the two showers the men use at the facility. The poverty and water situation is unreal. The water pipes go from the river, up to the water tank (that’s what’s sitting on top of the platform behind the shower) down to the showers, over to the kitchen and flows to the ground back into the river. I can’t believe we actually ate here the first day. We did not eat here the second day. Some of the men continued working on the brooms instead of painting.
It turned out looking great.
I pray for healing, strength, faith, and redemption for these men.
We prayed over the local missionaries before we left the island.
That evening we boarded the boat headed back to Breves. This 12 hour trip would be different from the first one. First, we watched a prostitute with her client and handler make a deal. We were warned to stay away from both of those men. There were several prostitutes onboard. Second, most everybody was winding down for bed when the boat stopped. I thought something was wrong but, no, the boat just made a stop at another city and we picked up more passengers around 10pm. Third, we tried to get some rest when the weather or water or something changed. The boat was rocking something fierce. I had already taken my medicine for motion sickness but I took more as it was rocking so much. I had my hand down gripping my luggage like an anchor to try to stop myself from swaying. Finally, around 2am the boat was rocking so much that I was hitting Denise on one side and a stranger on the other side. Back and forth. Hit, hit, hit. This motion woke most of the boat awake.
At 2:30am, I asked Denise to go to the bathroom with me. We stumbled to the bathroom but the boat was rocking so much Denise was getting sick and said she needed to go back to her hammock and get some medicine. I told her that was fine as I was about finished and just needed to wash my hands. She hadn’t been gone more than a minute or so when in walks a man and he was just staring at me. I was alone in the bathroom with him. All I could get out was, “Mulheres (Women),” as he stared silently at me. Then I tried, “No homens (no men).” At this point I started raising my voice because I didn’t know what was about to happen. When I yelled, “ Não homens, homens estão lá,” with a hand motion, he finally turned and left. He never said a word or approached once I raised my voice. I have to admit, I was nervous with the situation I was in. I truly think that he just didn’t read the sign before entering but you just never know. There was no way I was sleeping after that. The boat rocked on for hours.
Morning couldn’t come fast enough for me. Thankful to be back on land, we headed for breakfast. Jafer had a later flight like us, so we left the rest of the team at a shopping mall and headed back out to Ver-O-Peso, where we bought some frozen açaí to bring back to the staff at Vinde, some candy filled with regional fruit for the boys to try, and, of course, a jar of jambu for my family to try. Gabee met us again and gave us a little city tour.
After the market, we went to Casa do Saulo for lunch. Housed in the Palace of Eleven Windows, a building constructed in the 16/1700s, the restaurant was beautiful. We ordered the tambaqui. It was delicious. I skipped eating the head meat this time. Been there, done that.
We toured the Forte do Presépio, Fort of the Nativity Scene. The museum was closed or I’d have more information for you.
There were several large Catholic Churches, ornately decorated while the city plaza was filled with the homeless. The city’s power and phone lines look like Atibaia’s. Gabee accompanied us to the airport and, after changing clothes to get into something not sweaty, we boarded. Another little side note about flying Latam domestically, if you are in Zone 5 or later they will require you to check your carry-on at the gate if they think they need the space. My carry-on was checked both ways, unfortunately, but everything arrived safely and intact.
We arrived home safely around 1:30am, thankful and tired.
NoHurryCains 
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