Slip-ups

Having just got back from Caldas Novas, for the amazing 6th Congresso Brasileiro de Missoes, so much has already happened this month that I must share with you right away. It was such a privilege to see more than 1,500 missionaries in the same place, to hear about the amazing work they are doing and to be inspired to live a life of service just like they have done.

On Friday I left for the long journey with 5 of my dearest friends, and by nightfall we found ourselves waiting in Belo Horizonte airport for our flight to Goiania, where we would spend the night before travelling onto Caldas Novas. Sipping our Bob's Ovalmatine milkshakes, Igor made a passing comment about how he would be peeing milkshake all night because he had had to drink both Brenda's and Dani's because they couldn't manage theirs. I found this hilarious because I suddenly felt so English - not a single person had even got embarassed or batted an eyelid at his comment, talking about toilet things is so normal in Brazilian culture, and even encouraged! As I explained why I found it so funny, Brenda kindly elaborated "well, things have changed a lot in recent times, and they're a lot more relaxed now. I remember the days when things were a lot more awkward, when women would even be embarrassed to buy ice cream next to men,." At this, I was completely baffled, but decided to keep quiet. When Dani continued "yeah, they used to have to wrap it up in plastic bags, didn't you know, Heather?", I was so desperately confused that I had no choice but to ask for clarification. A very awkward silence ensued, followed by a quiet, "NO, Heather, not sorvete (ice-cream), but absorventes (sanitary towels). " As the ficha caiu (penny dropped) in spectacular fashion, I inhaled milkshake where I should have inhaled air, and was soon suffocating myself to a shade of red darker than my hair, giving my friends a good sprinkling of Ovalmatine in an oh-so-elegant fashion. Not my finest moment. Combined with another classic "nao pode entrar, ela esta se tocando" (she's touching herself) instead of "ela esta se trocando" (she's getting changed), this week was not my linguistic best.

Having made it to Goiania in one piece for a quick overnight stop, I decided that Saturday would be a new day, and treated myself to a long nap in the sweltering car drive along the motorway to Caldas Novas. Half of us went in Markus' car, and the other half in Vitor's car (both are friends of Brenda's who came to the conference with us). Suddenly, out of nowhere, something hit my nose at full speed and I jumped, let out a shriek, and Markus swerved the car in shock. The girls in the car in front had been munching away at Jabuticaba (a bit like a purple cherry) and spitting the seeds out the window, and a rogue pip had managed to find its way into my window. Oh dear.

Once we finally made it to Caldas Novas with hammocks and cases galore, there was a bit of a hoo-haa about where we would be staying - the house we had been left would barely fit a capivara in it, let alone the 10 people we were attempting to squeeze in. Thankfully Vitor's inlaws had another chalet up their sleeve, and we were able to leave the mini-chalet for some other friends who would otherwise have had a big commute to the conference centre every day. Dani soon had us all with rubber gloves on, spring cleaning and de-bugging the house, and we sat down to a well-deserved churrasco (BBQ, but the word BBQ doesn't do it justice), and a lot of fun and laughter. The suffocating heat followed by torrential rain frequently left us with powercuts, and we spent many a happy hour playing dominos and listening to Markus' (mostly) clean jokes by candlelight. I realised I have com e along way with my Portuguese, because the last time I met Markus was in March, and back then I just sat and let him bully me with his dry sense of humour, but now I was able to retaliate and even came out with some killer come-backs!

We decided to make the most of the Sunday for resting before the manic schedule of the conference kicked off, and set off for one of Caldas Novas' famous water parks. Caldas Novas means "new springs", and is quite literally a tourist "hot spot" because of the hot springs - so all the water in the swimming pools was naturally heated, and totally lush. As I sat and soaked in the pool, watching a football match (what has become of me?!), I realised I hadn't had a proper day off since.. forever, and it was so nice to feel the cares of the world bubbling away..

The feeling of calm didn't last long however, as the CBM itself proved to be an extremely challening and exhausting, as well as enriching time. Listening to lectures and seminars in portuguese from 8am until 11pm isn't easy, and it was a lot of information to digest in a very short space of time. One night I was so exhausted that I decided to give my brain a rest and listen to the simultaneous translation being offered by headphones, but I just found it to be a distraction because I understood enough of the Portuguese to know that the translation unfortunately wasn't very accurate.

Those of you who know me well will know that ever since I decided to stay in Brazil for a bit longer, the crises relating to the future haven't just gone away. Coming away from the CBM, I have greater conviction that God is calling me to be a missionary, which is extremely exciting, and ridiculously terrifying all at the same time. The problem is knowing where, when and with who to serve, and how best to prepare myself. For me, it is important to find a ministry that allows me to use the linguistic gifts God has given me, but I also know that I have to be willing to help in anyway I can, and anywhere I can, that I have to do things out of genuine love and not just because it makes me feel good and fulfilled. At CBM God spoke to me clearly about the need there is in the world to speak the gospel to those who haven't been reached by it. So many people in Brazil and Latin America don't even have a hope because they don't have a written form of their language, let alone a copy of a Bible they understand. I met many people from ALEM and SIL, two missions who work closely with Wycliffe on Bible Translation and linguistic projects with indigenous tribes, all who were extremely keen to get me on board. Visiting all the stands of the various missions was quite overwhelming and left me feeling pressurised and anxious regarding the future and my calling. Going down the Bible Translation route would be a huge spiritual, financial and time commitment, and definitely not an easy ride. I am at a point where my future decisions will not only influence me, but also very special people close to me, and so prayer for wisdom, discernment, conviction and peace would be very welcome indeed. The closing moment where we were prayed over and sent out into the world was so special to be a part of. The speaker asked for God to shed light on our next steps and to give us hearts that genuinely break and bleed for what's on the Lord's heart. Hugging all my CEM friends afterwards, we looked at eachother and smiled: "wow! we're missionaries!"

On one afternoon, I had a particularly terrifying experience. Having decided to skip the afternoon seminars to stay in the house and read and pray about everything, I fell asleep on the sofa (in my defence, all my sleeping happened in the daytime, there's no way of sleeping with that many mosquitos having a fiesta on your skin. Unsurprisingly, I now look like I have chickenpox). When I woke up it was dark, I was alone and there was a terrifying noise that I couldn't identify, though I knew I'd heard it somewhere before. At first, I thought it was a weird ringtone coming from the depths of the boys' room. It sounded like something from a horror movie. When I came back to Vicosa and heard it as the sun set, I remembered that it had been here when I first arrived in Brazil... it's the dulcet sound of cigarras (a bit like an uber-cricket/cockroach with ginormous wings). This morning when I woke up there was a huuuuuuge one on my window, bigger than my hand. The children at Rebusca love playing with them and dangling them in front of me, and even Brenda brought me a "present" home with her from work last night... it was the shed skin of a cigarra. Yuck yuck yuck. I think she was slightly startled by my ultrasonic shrieking. Wikipedia tells me that they can live up to 17 years (oh. my. life.), and that it may or may not be a myth that they sing until they explode. It's not all monkeys and parrots in the rainforest, you know.

When it came to pack up our little home and leave, we decided to leave a book and write in it for the owner of the chalet, who is also called Markus. Poor Sil unfortunately got the wrong end of the stick, and wrote a message in it in permanent pen to our friend Markus: "Nice to meet you, can't wait til the next time." Not sure that would have gone down too well with the owner who she had never met...

On the Friday that the conference finished we headed back to Goiania where we had quick time for a game of bowling and dance machine silliness that caused quite a stir, and tired us out nicely for the next morning when we had to be up at 3am to catch our flight back to Belo Horizonte. No-one seemed to understand the giggles I got when I found a sign that said "bumpers in the bowling alley are strictly for children under 12 only." "Bang goes my chance I thought", and unsurprisingly, I finished well at the bottom of the league!!

Before I knew it I was back in the classroom firing irregular verbs to conjugate in the past tense at my poor pupils, puzzling over maths homework and playing "sticky sticky glue" with the Rebusca children. I soon regretted teaching this latter activity, as I have already fallen over twice this week and caked my clothes in mud. Not ideal when it takes about a week to dry clothes in this cold rainy weather. I found it funny that on one day I fell over and actually grazed my knee... and one of the girls I was playing with also fell over but didn't hurt herself. That didn't stop her crying her eyes out thouh, and I could just about distinguish the words "my daddy's going to be so cross with me! these jeans were clean on this morning and I haven't got any others!!" Even after taking her to the bathroom to clean her up and calm her down, she was mopey all the way until lunch time!

That just about brings you up to date! Thanks for reading! :-)

Becoming Brazilian

What a month it has been... fires, thunderstorms, tantrums, weddings... the missionary life continues to be full of spectacular highs and desperate lows. Sometimes it feels like I’m on top of the world, like I can do anything because the Lord is with me. Sometimes it feels like I can’t even get out of bed in the morning because I’m not capable, not good enough, not getting anywhere. If this blog seems lacking in its usual cheerful tone and chirpy anecdotes, it is not because I am any less grateful or joyful, but because I must be honest with you about some of the struggles I face every day.

The children at Rebusca continue to take up a considerable amount of my time and energy, and this month has been the most challenging so far. To spend hours preparing fun activities, busting a gut just to teach them a few simple words in English, only to be met with criticism, resilience and laziness can be extremely disheartening. The criticisms can vary, from my “boring” lessons, to the different rules I use when I play Uno and Drafts, to my different style of handwriting which is too difficult to copy, to the way I walk, to the way I sit when I watch a film with them. The class has become even more boisterous and disruptive, not just because of the lack of dedicated teacher, but also because of the arrival of Rodley’s half-brother Rodcley (SERIOUSLY confusing!) in our class. The two of them are quite the double-act. They can be found nearly every weekend, and every evening, loitering and begging in the street and rarely have enough money to buy food to eat. Clearly being at home is not a favourable option. I have heard from other members of staff that their personal problems at home are so bad that Rodcley is a prime target for drug dealers, and he is forever being pressurised to join the drug scene. He is extremely intelligent, ruthless and confident... just the qualities they are looking for. Please pray that he will stay on the right track and that we will be able to help him in any way we can.

Sometimes all I want is for the children to understand where I’m coming from, and to see how hard it is to live in another culture, having to constantly slave away to get people to know and appreciate you. Over time I am coming to realise that every time I highlight a cultural difference, such as the different food, the different way of behaving, even when I am trying to teach them or show them I want to be humble, they become defensive. When I see things from their perspective, and think of where they come from, of course I must seem like a rich, condescending goody two-shoes. Above all I realise that I did not come here to make them understand and like me. I came here to love them like Jesus loves me, and that means there are no limits, no conditions, no off days.

Going to the favela to see a capoeira performance, where a lot of them live, was just what I needed. As I stood there, letting the Brazilian rhythms pulse through me, I noticed some small dirty faces emerge from behind the wreckage of a car. One by one the children I work with every day came bounding out to see me, covered in dirt from top to toe, torn and threadbare clothes clinging to their skinny frames. There they were, so happy, so at home. And yet the places they called home could barely be called houses... slabs of concrete and sheets of metal thrown together in a haphazard fashion. Suddenly my troubles didn’t seem so big, my worries about the future didn’t seem so overwhelming, my goodbyes to friends leaving at the end of the year didn’t seem so daunting, and my impatience with the children didn’t seem so justified.

My time with the younger children during playtime is always the highlight of my week. One of the girls, Lorraine, has appointed me her exclusive playmate and has devised a game called “prisoner”, which involves her keeping me under “lock and key” (using a twig she found from a guava tree), because she thinks I have robbed a bank. It really is a special thing to be a part of the rich imaginary world of a child, especially one who speaks another language. It does worry me sometimes, though, just how childishly I enjoy their games!

God is really and truly testing my character. On one particular day, as I left Rebusca early with a throbbing headache and a severely damaged self-esteem I couldn’t shake off the question “Why do I bother?” Why do I bother to keep planting trees when I can’t see the fruits? Why do I bother to set myself up for this? I’m not getting paid for this, there are no brownie points to be earned. Why don’t I just go home and live a quiet easy life, put my efforts into working up the job ladder and being recognised for what I do? I laid this all before God as I trekked back across the University campus. When I arrived back at CEM, an overwhelming sense of peace came upon me as my eyes fell upon the emblematic “cruz varada”, the empty cross. I stopped in awe as the wind blew and the quiet answer came: “Because I have bothered very much about you.” And I found myself thinking, “oh yeah, Jesus had everything.: wealth, comfort, family... and he gave it all up and humbled himself perfectly to edify, bless and save the lives of many.” The only way I will get through this is to follow in the footsteps he has clearly marked out. How could I possibly go back on this journey we have started together?

Sometimes I stop and look at myself, and I realise just how Brazilian I have become. I find I laugh and smile so much more. I value my friends, who really are family, so much more. A 2 o’clock English lesson no longer starts at 2 o’clock. It means 2 o’clock + coffee + several chats + a leisurely stroll to the classroom. The girl who never had a manicure done in her life suddenly finds herself picking away at cuticles. My friends always used to joke that if there was such thing as an intravenous tea machine, I would be the first customer. Now I find I can easily pass a week without a drop of the English nectar touching my lips, and the stronger the coffee, the better.

CEM continues to be a special place that brings me such joy. Every day I wake up and thank God for the privilege of living and working in such a beautiful place with such amazing people, who I am blessed to call my family. Renata, for instance, amazes me every day. She is extremely poorly with kidney stones, and on strong medication that leave her exhausted and dashing in and out of the bathroom. And yet she manages to cook up a storm for us every single day of the week, and is single-handedly responsible for getting me to like rice and beans. There she is in the kitchen, day after day, with her hair net on, sweating under her apron, with a wooden spoon in one hand, and her English book in the other, happily crying out to me “look teacher, look teacher! NO, both your hands AREN’T on the table, but ONE is on the table and THE OTHER is on your arm”. English is so hard for her, and yet she studies with such enthusiasm that she rarely gets less than 17/20 in her dictations. Not only that, my life just wouldn’t be the same without her ridiculous laugh that wakes me up first thing in the morning, the quiet knock on the door followed by a cup of steaming coffee being thrust in my hand, the bear hugs and kind words... she really is a special lady.

One experience I will never forget was the very special privilege of being a “madrinha” (bridesmaid) at a Brazilian wedding at the foot of our beautiful CEM cross. It was one of those perfect days that I will remember for the rest of my life. Those who remember the wedding episode from my Peruvian Chapters will understand that I spent the whole day in fear of being knocked to the ground by the bride’s bouquet. I spent several days practising my walk down the aisle, convinced that I was going to sink into the grass in my high-heels or fall over. Making it to the front in one piece, I was so relieved that I realised I hadn’t paid attention to which side of the cross I was meant to go and sit down... to the left or the right? I then started a not-so-graceful “this way, that way” kind of dance as I tried to decide, and was finally dragged to my place, much to everyone’s amusement. At least it warmed everyone up for the entrance of the lovely bride, Viviane!

Well dear friends, I had better get packing, as tomorrow I leave for a week-long conference (Congresso Brasileiro de Missões) with nearly all of my fellow CEMites! I hope to have lots more exciting adventures to tell you about very soon!

Cake, Carrots and Chaos

On Wednesday, I looked out at the beautifully cloudy sky, full of the promise of much-needed rain, and squeezed my eyes tight as I tried to picture my aeroplane for England tearing away into the distance without me. Arriving at the point where my project was originally planned to end has made me reflect on a lot of things and stirred up a mixture of emotions, though gratitude is the main feeling that sings through. If I had to say goodbye now, when God’s work in me is in full-swing, I just don’t think I could do it.

Things this month have been busier than ever, and more blessed than ever. Generally it has been so hard to believe that we are in winter... the sunstroke, trees bursting with bright yellow and purple blossom, the short-clad teenagers on bikes can be quite deceiving! However, one noisy thunderstorm suddenly brings the temperature crashing down and I find that in 24 hours I swap my shorts and vest tops for hoodies and woolly socks!

In animal news, a family of monkeys has been paying us regular visits here in CEM, and the hotter weather has marked the return of the RLIs (Ridiculously Large Insects). Quite embarrassingly I brought a quiet moment of reflection on the spiritual impact of the book of Revelation to an abrupt end when a moth bigger than my handspan came into collision with my eyeball in the middle of our evening lecture... Also, Fox had yet another near-death experience when an enormous lost cow took up residence in our secluded campus for a week or so. Fox was incredibly jealous of the attention our visitor was getting, and of the fact that the moo-ing was drowning out her night-time barking and making her efforts to keep us awake redundant. Challenging the cow to a show-down at the foot of the CEM cross proved not to be a shrewd move and Fox was left cowering for days until the cow was finally reclaimed by its owner!

Moving into the classroom, God has been teaching me a huge amount about my attitude as a teacher, and highlighting many things in my character and attitudes that need to be refined. One important lesson I have learnt is that of flexibility. Having spent the holidays prayerfully considering how I could shuffle my English/French classes around to give attention to the people who needed it most, I shifted my timetable around and filled up my time to maximum capacity, and published the new times of classes on the notice board. When the time came to give my lessons in the first week, I was hugely dismayed to find that a lot of people wanted to give up, and that I would have to cancel one of my English sets. It’s hard when you put your heart and soul into something and the response you get is less than enthusiastic, but I know this is just a drop in the ocean in comparison to the rejection and seeming fruitlessness that make up the long-term service lifestyle. Anyway, just as I had got used to the idea of having the extra time freed up for studying and prioritising my prayer times, people changed their minds and I had to uncancel the group! God is showing me that I have to do things his way, and that any plans I make have to be subject to change! Being willing to serve means doing things on his terms, not mine. I’m like a tennis player in “ready” position, and have to be ready to spring one way or the other, not just stay rooted in one spot... you can’t hit nearly as many balls that way!

Things have been great here in CEM this month, and God has been at work to gel us all together as a community of Christ. Last week, all our lectures started half an hour later in order for us to have a special time of doing group activities and group devotionals together. One of the activities we had to do was cross an imaginary mine field with only two pieces of cardboard for help, and with various members of our team having disabilities, such as being blind, dumb or tetraplegic . On another day we had to carry a tin of paint from one side of the school to the other, with each person holding a long piece of string attached to the tin. On yet another we had to crawl through a maze in silence and could only find the way out when we put our hands up and asked for help. All of them taught important messages about what it means to live as a body of Christ, to support and help each other despite our differences and the limits we each have, and also to recognise when we need support and need to ask for help ourselves. One of my favourite evenings in CEM so far was when one of our New Testament lectures got cancelled (that’s not the actual reason I promise!!!) and we all had an impromptu devotional time under the palm trees. Our worship just went on and on, and then we decided to do a tour of the families in the block of flats, who sometimes feel a bit separated from the rest of us single students who all live in the same building. We visited each of their flats, prayed with them and told them all how much we love them and value them as part of our family, and sang with them until some unearthly hour! Very special times.

A lot of my time and energy, both physical and emotional, has been invested in to Rebusca this month. Last Sunday I had the special privilege of attending a celebration service for 30 years of Rebusca. The children sang with such heart and soul, and the sermon which applied the disciples’ attitude in the story of the Feeding of the Five Thousand to that of those who work in Rebusca was so special. God really wants to use the little we have to multiply it and feed lots of people in big ways! I got so emotional, it really is a privilege to be part of a project like Rebusca that gives hope and love to children from families that don’t seem to have much of either.

My relationships with the children at Rebusca have really grown, and I look at them now and feel such love for them, it really is as if they were my own sons and daughters. I know that sounds drastic to say, but I know that this love I have from them doesn’t come from me! If it did, there’s no way I would be able to get up and go there every week. It’s all change, as we have moved to a different classroom, one of our pupils, Glauco, has mysteriously left, and we have two new recruits, Carla and Rodley, who have already been such a blessing in my life. I took Carla under my wing after noticing that she was struggling to fit in with the other girls, who are all from a different school to her. She has since become my official “stylist”, and the amount of shampoo I use has doubled, as has the amount of time I have gone around with ridiculous hair in fear of offending her... but she seems to have settled in fine now and I just love her to bits. As for Rodley, Rebusca’s new resident bad-boy, it is so clear that he is craving attention at home. He is a bit overweight, and comfort eats all the time. He is a bit of a loner because he likes to say things that shock and impress people, and it’s clear that he wants to get on with people and be good friends with them but he doesn’t quite know how. In my first week with him, he wouldn’t stop swearing at me in English because he wanted to show off that he knew some English. However, after a pep talk about how horrible and unnecessary swearing is, I managed to change the f word to “love”... so now he shouts “love you, Heather” out to me all the time, which is so much nicer!

Saying goodbye to Geraldo was very hard for all of us. He has been an inspiration to me over these 6 months and I know that God put him in my life to teach me through his working attitude that never gets tired and never complains. He’s so great with the children because he knows exactly when to be a friend and to joke, and exactly when to “put his foot down with a firm hand”. He’s finally achieving his life-long dream of going to Europe to study, and I know he’s finding it hard to leave us all behind. The children have been clinging to me a lot more in the transition process as their new teacher, Erick, has been introduced. In one sense it’s nice for me, but in another I know I need to do all I can to encourage them to bond with the new teacher who is with them every day, whilst I only volunteer twice a week. Knowing that we wouldn’t all fit in Geraldo’s suitcase, I enlisted the children’s help to make a photo-montage as a farewell gift. It cause a lot of tears and tantrums, as we had to put the present together on one of the very few days that I got left alone with the children. Although the children and I love each other to bits, the moment I stop being the sweet English girl who’s there to play with them, and start being the teacher they actually have to respect and obey, things start to get quite messy. The outcome was a teary Heather, tearing her hair out in chunks, a shouting session from Lilian, the director of Rebusca, and a silent playtime spend inside reciting times-tables as punishment. All in all, the moment they all apologised to me individually, and the look on Geraldo’s face when he opened his present, made it all more than worthwhile. The not-so-surprise farewell party we threw for Geraldo turned out to be a great success, and we spent a lot of time playing with the new teacher Erick and getting to know him, as well as eating my “interesting” cappuccino cake, which the children promised they loved and were still raving about the next day. I know them to be extremely honest, so it really can’t have been that bad!

Today I am particularly exhausted, as I have just got back from taking our children on a day trip with some of the other Rebusca staff, to a beautiful historic town nearby called Ouro Preto, to learn about the history of the slave trade in Brazil. It was so much fun! The town itself is stunning, if not extremely hilly, and some of the things we learnt were hard to digest. Seeing the instruments used by the Europeans to subdue their negro slaves was particularly difficult, and hearing about the lack of rights they had, even in Church. So much so, that they had to build their own church and create their own religion. The children had the time of their lives, though they definitely tired me out more than the hills! What should have been a 2 hour journey each way turned out to be nearly 4 because of all the whining and constant eating and claiming that they were “busting” for the toilet. Anyone who has seen the scene in Shrek were Donkey asks every few seconds “are we nearly there yet” will have some idea of how I felt.

Of all the many things I learnt today in Ouro Preto, perhaps the most important is the following: “thou shalt not take children into an “all you can eat” restaurant”. The boys merrily piled up mountains of food on their plates so that I could barely see their little skinny faces over them, and sat down, very pleased with themselves. As one of them, Cleisson, noticed a poster to his right, his face fell: “Fine for wastage: 15 reais”. Oh dear. Half an hour later I was still sat with him, urging him on “come on now, Cleisson, just one more mouthful of rice... you can do it!!”, all the while battling with the other boys who were trying to put chilli sauce on his food whenever his back was turned. Just as their heroic efforts seemed to have paid off and we left the restaurant, massively pleased that Cleisson was still standing... Silvio decided to be sick all over the monument in the square outside. Ohhhhh the shame. 10 minutes later however, he was already munching sweets again... boys, eh?

Things in ABU have been a bit up and down. Some weeks we have had lots of people come to my Bible studies, and some weeks only 2 or 3, which can be a bit discouraging. I was pleased this week though because on Thursday I saw one boy, Flavio, who used to come last term, but who hadn’t been for ages. I couldn’t remember his name and was in a big rush, but felt awful afterwards about not going to talk to him afterwards. In any case, I just smiled at him manically and prayed for him with all my might. The next day, there he was at the study! J The power of prayer and smiles are not to be underestimated! This week’s study was particularly hilarious due to a misunderstanding that took place and left us in fits of giggles for ages. Laughter is also a powerful tool at bringing people together! I had been teaching about how God refines us with fire, and had been talking about what “karat” meant in terms of gold’s purity. One of the group’s newest members, Gaetan, made an interesting comment, and I thought he was making a clever link between “karat” and “carrot”, so I was really impressed when I came up with an ingenious analogy about how God refines us and helps us “see” ourselves better, just like carrots help us see (painfully obscure and contrived, I know). Anyway, they all went a bit quiet and started looking at me a bit funny. After 5 minutes someone took pity on me and pointed out that Gaetan hadn’t been talking about “carrots” but “character” (pronounced oddly). None of them even knew what “carrot” meant. I turned a horrible shade of purple when the “ficha caiu” (penny dropped). They must have been thinking “who the heck is the crazy English girl and why is she talking about vegetables in the middle of our Bible study???” But in any case, at least they will always remember that God refines our character like he refines gold! Haha!

Anyway my dear friends, it has been wonderful to share just a few of my highlights from this past month. Sorry they were so long, you deserve a medal if you read up to here. I could write you books and books full of my stories and memories, but hopefully these will have at least served to remind you that you are very much on this rollercoaster journey with me! My pyjamas are calling me and I must follow that call!

Ode to Fox

Your black gooey eyes and frantic yap
Have, for some time, left me in a flap.
With all the remnants of bones you eat
Why, I ask, must you nibble my feet?
Chasing cars with your wonky gait,
Leaving drivers in a panicky state,
Your jumpy greetings and flea-ridden looks
Often make me drop my books.
But, dear Fox, this much is true,
During the holidays I fell for you.
When I returned, suitcase in tow,
My feelings for you started to grow;
There you were asleep at my door
Lazily swatting flies with your paw.
Ears pricked up, your eyes like dew
I suddenly realised... I had missed you!
Now I find you such a treat,
Your rainforest scavenging ever so sweet,
You faithfully follow wherever I roam,
Up mountains, to town, and all the way home
And when it's starting to get dark
You beckon me home with your piercing bark,
Fending off cows and snakes in my path
Hoping one day I'll give you a bath.
One thing at a time, my canine friend;
There are still fears with which to contend.
Waking me up at the crack of dawn
Leaves me feeling tired and drawn.
So please be patient and soon you shall see
... one of these days I might give you your tea!

Time for another update on this crazy adventure!

The rest of my time in Campo Limpo Paulista with Daniela proved relatively relaxing... but brilliantly Brazilian nonetheless. Rather than whizzing around to see what the state had to offer, we decided to take a bit of time out for some pampering. When Daniela suggested I go to the Brazilian salon with her, I really had no idea what I was letting myself in for. It turned out to be an 8 hour all-inclusive day trip. I have honestly never seen one girl have so many chemicals put on her hair! Every step of the treatment was broken up by general Brazilian chit-chat. You know how in England, the dreaded fake chit chat with the hairdresser tends to revolve around the weather and any imminent holidays to the seychelles? Not so in Brazil! Within half an hour my manicurist probably knew more about me than my mother, and I felt like I had made a friend for life! For me, however, the real highlight came when we ordered in food (rice and beans OF COURSE) and sat and tucked in on the hairdressing bench, with towels in our hair and brushes and scissors all around us. One of those surreal moments that I'll never forget.

Having battled Sao Paulo's metro system and made it to central Sao Paulo to celebrate Audrey's birthday, I soon found myself tucking into a typically delicious churrasco and cupcakes. Later we went to a huuuuge baptist church and randomly bumped into a guy we met at the big EMEP conference in CEM back in March. The low points in my short visit to the big city were a) trying desperately not to wake up the 11 people staying in Audrey's tiny flat when going to get water, only to cause a massive glass shattering racket at 4am... and realising that I'd booked my next plane ticket from the wrong airport... oops!

Sao Paulo is big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind- bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it's a long way down the road to the chemist's, but that's just peanuts to Sao Paulo. Sorry Douglas, but if there ever was a time to plagiarise you, it would be now. Ini 2 days I did a LOT, mostly revolving around food. I had soup in a 24hour bakery, visited the famous Se cathedral, went to a MAHOOSIVE market and saw all kinds of rude looking fruits with f unny sounding names... ate a sanduiche de mortadela and a pastel de bacalhau... had a much-miissed starbucks... went to the biggest bookshop I have ever seen in my life...learnt all about Portuguese at the Museu da Lingua Portuguesa... went on an epic pilgrimage in search of an elusive Subway supper... and maybe did a little shopping. Ahem. In my defence, Vicosa's shopping life is non-existent, and a girl who is going to stay in Brazil for another year needs some clothes!!

Perhaps the funniest and cringiest moment was almost getting left behind on a platform on Sao Paulo's brand spanking new "yellow line" of the metro due to a little misunderstanding with some Portuguese...

Curitiba is far less manic but a thousand times colder. For the first time in my life I have gone to sleep in a room where I can see my breath. I literally have to put on every item of clothing I own and crawl under a thousand covers... and it's STILL so cold that my nose has a little icicle dripping from it. The Latin Link team conference has been wonderful so far, however I think I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't lost my purse with ALL my credit cards and money on the bus to the conference centre, and if I hadn't caught a horrid cold. Thank the Lord that my mentors Jan and Phil are here to look after me and have lent me some money to get me through the last couple of stops of my travelling tour! Still the idea of travelling alone with no money to my name apart from a wadge of borrowed cash is weighing on my mind... please pray for my safety! On the plus side, I managed to visit a few of the sights in this beautiful city such as the famous "Praca do homem nu" (naked man square) and the museu do olho (museum of the eye)... and the seminars on Discernment and Godly decisions have been fantastic. It's been great to meet the rest of the Latin Link Brazil team, meet some truly inspirational cross-cultural couples and spend some time cooing over some seriously cute babies! In all honesty it has also been a hugely testing time. Hearing the stories of others, my contribution here in Brazil is feeling slightly small and pathetic, but I need to remember that God still loves and values even the smallest sacrifices I make for Him, and that although I am weak ungreat, He is hugely strong and can do great things, even with me. Tomorrow I will give a presentation on my project... so your prayers would be appreciated once again.

That's all for now folks... next stop Foz do Iguacu! (If I manage to make it there in one piece without getting lost or robbed...)

From Troublesome Trees to Brilliant Brasilia

So my friends,

I find myself halfway through my winter holiday adventure, tucked away in my friend Daniela´s house in São Paulo with lots to fill you in on!

The end of term was particularly manic, not least because on top of all my usual activities, there were lots of farewell celebrations for some dear friends moving on from CEM... and I had to give an assessed sermon for the final module, Éxposição Bíblica. Thankfully I was allowed to preach in English, and I got put in a group with all my Advanced English students who also had the opportunity to preach in English if they wanted to. On the day I was absolutely terrified, convinced that my students would take this oppotunity for revenge against all the horrible grammar exercises I had set them throughout the semester, and I spent many hours preaching to the banana trees... I´m sure I converted many of them at least! When the moment finally came I can´t explain what a buzz I got... it was like I was completely taken over and it wasn´t me talking at all. I gave it everything I had, and I think I left everyone pretty dumbfounded... in a good way! I went from teacher to preacher in 27 minutes, and Jan said that it was a great opportunity for my friends and students to get a glimpse of ´the real Heather of Cambridge´, someone who doesn´t make much of an appearance thanks to all the linguistic and cultural barriers. Definitely an experience I won´t forget.

As I continue to battle my clown phobia, I find myself becoming more clown-like every day. Watching my clown friends practise their acrobatic stunts and tightrope walking in full clown gear, my catchprase has quickly become "Mas porqueeeeeeeeeee?" (but whyyyyyyyyyy?) and has been adopted by all as an expression to use when Brazilian´s are being particularly crazy and Brazilian and I am feeling particularly British and normal... or vice versa.

Teaching "left and right" and "left hand, right hand side" etc. in English made me realise how much difficulty I have in distinguishing between the two, to particularly humorous consequences when attempting to participate in Dudu´s (one of my favourite students and a seriously cool guy) yoga classes out beneath the palm trees...

On another particular escapade, I was out with some friends after having spent the afternoon working with children in a poor community where a Christian Fellowship has just been planted by CEM´s caretaker, when we decided to stop in a forest to take some silly pictures. Everyone thought it would be a great idea for me to climb a tree, which, being an obedient and humble servant, I kindly agreed to. Unfortunately what looked like a solid platform covered with leaves halfway up turned out to be the opening to one of Brazil´s largest ants´ nests, and, yes, my entire leg disappeared into it. At this point I would like to point out that Brazilian ants are not of the cute disney "A Bug´s life" kind, but more of the vicious "what the heck do you think you´re doing putting your foot in my home" kind. 15 minutes later in the car home, when I thought I´d finally shaken the last of them off, I felt a sharp jab in my ankle and screamed out, and Bruno nearly led us into a fatal "voltinha"...

Meanwhile, in other news, my samba skills and forró technique are coming along nicely thanks to an evening out at a music concert put on to celebrate 30 years of Rebusca. Also, far more importantly... some of you might remember my student Dantas who is a vet from the rice-murder-dream episode. Well, ever since I translated a particularly complicated and graphic text about varying levels of constipation in horses, and refused payment, he has been feeling forever in my debt. So he decided to take us out for an end of term treat... a milkshake followed by a VIP tour of the University Veterinary Hospital and ... (drum roll please)... I FINALLY, after 5 months, saw my FIRST EVER Brazilian Sheep! Fair enough it was on a drip and not looking much up to frolicking about in a field, but it was a historic moment nonetheless.

Anyway, after a very busy week full of frantic packing and knitting and sermoning and teaching and some more knitting... I finally said some tearful goodbyes and got on a night bus to Brasilia. 14 uncomfortable hours later I arrived bleary eyed to meet my friend Daniela, and went straight to Church with her MPC (Youth For Christ) friends and got swept up into a windstop tour of the city. Brasilia is very wide, white and... shiny! Everything is glimmering, and at 30 degrees centigrade most days, I found myself dehydrated for the very first time in the middle of winter!

Dudu is in Brasilia for the holidays and so I had the privilege of being given a personalised tour of everything... and as he used to be head of a branch of the military police, he even got is into restricted access areas of the National Congress, where I met "Tiririca"... Brazil´s most famous and most ridiculous politician, kind of like a Boris Johnson equivalent. I also got swept up in a massive televised riot, went to a traditional winter party (´festa junina´), bizarrely in a gym run by Dudu´s mother-in-law, where I dressed up, ate lots of strange peanutty things and danced the conga with a scary bride in drag, saw "Cars 2" at the cinema and hardly understood anything because it was dubbed... and polished it all off with açai overlooking the sunset on one of Brasilia´s beautiful lakes. Phew! Amidst all that, Daniela and I helped out at an MPC project called "School of Life", where various people give lectures in schools to teach youngsters about ethical issues such as the environment, behavioural issues and sexuality etc. Excellent stuff!

Anyway now I am in São Paulo to take a deep breath, do some shopping and washing, do a couple of evangelizing visits and see some more friends... more adventures to follow I am sure!

Wish you were here,
Heather

May-hem in Viçosa

Dear Friends,

Definitely time for an update! Amidst all the emotional turmoil, heartache, and violent mood swings, lots has been happening here in Viçosa this month!

In everything God’s hand has been so clearly at work. After one particularly difficult, teary morning last week, I came back to CEM feeling like a wrung-out dishcloth. My friends Brenda and Tercio said they wanted to talk to me, as we had had a minor falling out. We spent the afternoon under the tree chatting, crying, praying and putting the world to rights. I was meant to give an English lesson that afternoon, but amazingly, two of my three pupils didn’t show up, which meant I was free to carry on praying! Lots of hugs and a milkshake later, I was starting to feel perkier. That afternoon, I received a letter from my mum. She had written it three weeks earlier, but it was so meant for me to receive on that day. It told me that I was in good hands, that I was meant to be where I was, that I had been called to do something special, and that “all would be well with my soul”. I felt so much peace, it was like a massive weight being lifted off my shoulders. A weekend hidden away in Jan’s flat for some English food and “cat therapy” also did me the world of good!

Every evening before our lecture, we have a devotional, and it was my turn to lead it which was a bit scary, as I’m still nervous about speaking in Portuguese in big group. It went really well, and everyone said it had really blessed them... so that was all good! They all ended up crying actually... but I think they were good tears! My language skills were severely tested last week when we were studying our second module on New Testament Theology. Our usual teacher was bedridden with a nasty bout of dengue fever, and our cover teacher was an Argentinian called Ernesto. His “Portunhol” left my brain in shreds! Especially on the days where I gave an English lesson, then immediately gave a French lesson in Portuguese, then went straight to a lesson on Portuguese material given half in Spanish! Thankfully I am getting along a lot better with Systematic Theology this week. J

My days at Rebusca are still my favourite, despite the fact that trying to teach the children English is like trying to teach an ostrich to fly. They are demanding, loud, fidgety, craving attention, and yet slow to listen and easily frustrated when they don’t understand something. Not only that, many of them can’t read or write even the most basic things in Portuguese, which makes throwing another language at them pretty tricky! My patience is sometimes severely tested, particularly by Ana Paula, who can be quite a little madam when she wants to be, but I keep remembering that there is probably a good reason why she is like that, and that she needs my love and understanding all the same. I am learning the art of keeping a balance between talking at them, and giving them pretty colouring-in things to do. My maths skills are also being nicely honed, as I am giving them times tables tests every week, which has led me to mutter in my sleep (according to Brenda) “dois vezes dois são quatro” (two times two is four).

One thing I find quite hard is noticing the poor quality of the children’s clothes and hygiene. Silvio wears the same T-shirt every time I see him and it has a massive hole in the back. There is no way a parent in England would let a child go to school dressed like that. It makes me want to dress him and look after him, but I know it’s not as easy as that and that I have to love and accept him just as he is, not thinking of myself as coming from a better place.

Recently most of our time has been taken up with rehearsals for a presentation they did at the “Festa da Familia” (a kind of school fete to celebrate “National Family Day”). Watching them dance and sing their hearts out in perfect time to the music was a very proud moment for me, as well as their parents, especially knowing how much blood, sweat and tears had gone into it.

During play time at Rebusca, the playground game currently in vogue is “Beauty Salon”, of which I am the main regular customer. They delight in pretending to do my nails and makeup, putting my hair into all kinds of inexplicable styles...watch out next year’s catwalk! Last week they decided to dress me up as a bride, and made me a cake out of some chair padding they found and then “pretend married” me to Glauco, one of the liveliest of my boys. My new best friend is my shadow Yasmina, a little girl with learning difficulties. I have never understood a single word she says, and she clearly doesn’t understand me, but it doesn’t matter one tiny bit. We are inseparable, even to the extent that she will happily get hit by footballs to stand next to me when I am in goal playing with the boys! She likes to wear my sunglasses all the time and pretend to be me!

In animal news, I am feeling cat withdrawal symptoms since the kittens got taken away. L Fox, our dog and my least favourite person at CEM, has been inseparable from a number of mangy lovers these days, and is now looking suspiciously swollen... so it won’t be too long before the pitter patter of tiny scoundrels will be terrorising me! Unfortunately, instead of having to contend with kittens when doing my washing, I now have to contend with Fox having a bath and taking great delight in giving me my second muddy shower of the day.

My clown phobia, if anything, has got worse. They are everywhere! When we went to do some evangelism work with children last weekend, facepainting and the like, I couldn’t move for clowns! My dear friend Daniela, has initiated into the CEM clown club, which leaves me massively conflicted when she’s dressed up as a clown! When she was getting dressed up on Saturday, she said “Heather, give me a hug now, because I know you won’t be able to manage it once I get the make-up and false nose on!!”

Things are as crazy as ever in my English lessons at CEM. At the moment I am teaching them “I’m coming into the classroom”, “I’m going out of the classroom”, “I’m putting butter on my bread” etc. (to teach the present progressive), which involves me running in and out of the classroom at top speed with butter and bread flung everywhere. My pupils find it hysterical! A few of them have been struggling to keep up the pace and nearly dropped out which really left me worried. They are currently having extra lessons with Jan to keep on track, but I am concerned that they will become too dependent on her. Please pray for perseverance and stamina for all concerned!

All in all it has been a very good month, despite having to say goodbye to two of my good friends, Ariane and Paula here who graduated last year and have moved on to new things. I have managed to conquer my motorcycle fear and am becoming quite a seasoned traveller! The food situation has much improved since my friend Renata took over cooking lunch here, and I even find I’m liking rice and beans! That said, I did eat potatoes twice today just to compensate!

I have rambled on for far too long... I am off to make a cup of tea and watch a film with the girls. I might even do a bit of knitting... I’m making a scarf to beat the winter chills!

Lots of love and hugs,

Granny Heather

X x x