Halfway (saturday september 12th)
Two and a half months down. Two and a half months to go. Wow. It’s so hard to believe it has already been this long. I thought i would never get here. Recall from my first entry that I thought I was going to die.
We just finished laying down the layer of concrete that is Wellington’s roof after hauling rock and sand up the giant hill, which has become a regular job. It’s awesome to be a part of helping this man provide for his family. Not only am I able to help him with his house, I enjoy talking with him, his wife, and playing with his kids. I met his father that Wellington didn’t even know two months ago. His father already adores his grand-kids. This is when I realize that there is no other place I should be; or want to be for that matter. Instead of sitting in a desk and learning things that have no value to me, I’m here learning what is valuable and why. I have something so much more precious to me with eternal benefits.
I had my first dream in Portuguese, if that’s any proof that my ability to communicate isn’t improving.
James invited Steve to a camp from Saturday night to Sunday. Nothing really crazy happened but two guys got baptized, I met a cool guy named Paulo from Betim, and I took a walk through the forest. We were with a house church started by women. Actually it started in a hair salon. Eliza went in and mentioned her love for Christ and the hair-dresser became interested. She converted and more people started hearing Eliza talk about it. Pretty soon the entire hair salon was converted. Anyway, the two guys that were baptized were a bit socially awkward. One had a long mohawk with piercings and tattoos and the other was quiet and spoke out of turn. It’s amazing how these women who met at a hair salon invited and accepted these men into their group.
Last night I found out that Juninho’s grand-mother died. It is customary in Brazilian culture to have the funeral the day after. Actually it’s normal for the person to be buried within 5 hours after death. Brazilians think it’s so strange that we have funerals 5 days to a week after. So I will be there, but not in the kind of clothes you would expect. At Brazilian funerals one can wear jeans and a t-shirt. Pretty much anything that’s not offensive. And that’s exactly how it was.