Brasilian BBQ and Learning the Samba! September 9, 2010

Planning to take this day to work turned into a completely futile idea.  You see moments after we attempted to begin working, we realized no one else would be around and we did not have the keys we needed to continue a project which we had begun several weeks earlier.

Oh well.  Let the Feridas (Holidays) begin!  Having been invited by our close compadre Carlos (Barra) for short.  Actually, I should mention that it was his idea.  We we first met our friend he wore his hair very long and brushed straight.  Another common practice of Carlos was to complain about the "pretty boy haircuts, worn  by the playboys living in Barra da Tajuca."  Too our great surprise, he soon cut his hair in this same stylish 'do'.  Thus they name Barra was born and to my knowledge he still wears his hair in this same fashion.  With a strong sense of right and wrong, he is a close friend and constantly attended to our needs and helped translate when we had difficulty.  Barra even frequented the mission when he was unemployed and spent time with the children and doing construction, and I look forward to seeing him in North Carolina very soon.  So Brazilians, and friends in th states, if you meet Carlos Eduardo please refer to him by his prefered name, Barra.
Here is a picture of me and Barra having dinner before he cut off his long Brasilian locks!

So to continue my story, Barra had invited us to meet some of his friends who were hosting a Brazilian BBQ.  Being from NC I take great pride in my states ability to make the best barbeque world wide.  This, however, was a different experience entirely.  Meat is chopped very finely and a tiny grill is used.  Thus every 10-20 minutes small portions are finished cooking and are enjoyed while more meat/food is placed on a grill which is only a foot or two in perimeter.


Let me explain the process.  You sit, eat, drink, talk, cook, eat, talk, drink, cook some more, eat more, cook something different, talk more, eat more, more drinking, followed by more cooking, talking, drinking, eating, ect.  You continue this proceedure until lunch, snack, and dinner are long past and it is say 8 or 9 p.m. and that is when you realize that there is no way can eat even one more tiny cut of steak, the very last bite of chicken, or jiblet of sausage  as it comes off the grill.  Yes, I think I have thoroughly explained and everyone can appreciate just how wonderful everything about the experience truely is.

After eating for a solid eight hours we were taken to a back street ally which soon filled with Brazilians, Europeans, and Americans.  A band began playing and soon I was informed that this was in fact the very birthplace of Brazil's infamous Samba!  Although I quickly became aware of the fact that the Samba is one of the most difficult dances to learn and even the most basic steps cannot be learned without much practice, I did practice hard an made a full effort to learn.  Late in the evening as the band became silent, we drifted home.  Knowing the proximity of such an interesting location was incentive enough to practice the samba and return to show off our 'skills'.  Ok so to be honest we never showed off any skills, but we did practice and returned to our new found local secret on several occasions.

FIFA World Cup Destination 2014-Maracana Stadium!

Maracana Stadium! (September 1, 2010)

We had the opportunity to visit South Americas largest stadium just before it was closed for renovations for the next four years in preparation for the 2014 World Cup.  The approximation is that it will be closed for three years.  We were able to go to one of the very last games before the stadium closed.

I will never forget what it felt like to walk into that stadium as the sun sank below the highest row of seating, the lights came on, and the crowd became electric!

 We cheered Cristiano's favorite team Fluminese, to defeat Soa Paulo.  Despite passionate cheering the game concluded after ninety exciting minutes, the result a tie 2-2.  There is a very sacred ceremony which is formally conducted upon the scoring of each goal by one's affiliated team of preferance.  The ritual is carried out as follows:  step 1) remove shirt/any other article of clothing covering one's torso.  2) using said article of clothing proceed to perform your most convincing helicopter impersonassion. 3) grunt loudly in a manner as to most effectively bring attention to yourself and be as obknoxious as possible. 4) thrust chest out and aggressively collide with all others around you and work outward until you have bumped chests with as many people as is possible. 5) return to your seat and humiliate, degrade, and mock all fans of the other team until they score and begin the same ritual in your face.

Here is a picture of Austin and I enjoying such a ceremony!!!

Face to Face with (CV) the Red Command!

So I know what you all must be wondering.  What in the world does all this have to do with drug trafficing, how did this affect your current situation in Asia, and most important, what is the "Red Command"?
Let me begin by answering the last question "What is the Red Command?" then I will back up and begin answering the following questions in chronological order.  I think that is the most logical way of doing this.  Clear...Kind've...A little...Vaguely transparent....ok good enough.

The Red Command is a huge crime sindicate in Rio de Janeiro, they traffic illigal cocaine all over the world.  The are second in size only to the Mafia.  This is the story of how my brother and I were able to get an up close look at their connections and the extent of their organization.

Now I am certain that in just one year earlier if I had been asked about drugs and more importantly drug trafficking, my response would have rung out bodly, "Drugs are bad....MmmmmKay!"  Today however, I am more deeply aware of the hurt they cause and the bondage entire communities face to to their effects.  Most drug leaders it seems are not greedy capitalists trying to gain a quick profit.  They are poor, uneducated individuals who due to the corruption of their surroundings have only one shot at a chance to live what promises and seems as close to a "normal life" as they can imagine.  Food for their families and an education for their children is what they seek.  The problem lies when they discover their is no way out and their life expectancy is only 5 YRS!  They live in fear, anxiety and bondage with no way out.
After working with the children, Cristiano took us up into a favela controlled by--guess who--yup the Red Command or CV (Comanche Vemelia) to celebrate his nephews birthday.  While visiting the family we contacted some leaders and relayed the story and where it happened.  As it turns out the area we were in during the robbery was at the time controlled by CV and they even promised to work toward finding out things.  I know it was only a slight chance, but I felt they were roughly 1000x more likely to recoup are belonging than the policy who had infinately less connections and equally as corrupt.  We did however take the time to file a police report even though it seemed like the time would have been most likely been more productive staring at fly droppings through a magnifying glass.  Imagine these thugs helping a few Americans they had never met.

So I suppose my answer concerning drug trafficing is more complex now.  As we ask around the favela to discover the more popular organization the trafficas or the police, surprising the trafficas are much more popular.  "Oh the police are bad!  The trafficas are ok, they are my friends, they would never hurt me.  They are just providing something for others who want it, but the police will deliberately take advantage of innocent people for no reason except to cushion their already buldging wallets.

I know that all things work together for good to those who are called, and I certainly knew God had sent me to Rio.  So to answer the last question, "What does this have to do with your current situation.  This instance is evidence of everything we felt and experienced on a daily basis.  We were forced to always be cautious and always be on alert.  This was first time that I could so thoroughly appreciate the comforts and safety of rural U.S.A.   This was also the first time that I could realize with certainty that I could react calmly in perilous situations.  Wherever I travel, wherever the road leads, I know that He is watching over me and regardless of situations or circumstances, I rest in the palm of His hand.  Safety or danger, quiet farms or noisy cities, I will travel where He directs.  I suppose this was one of the first lessons which I still carry with me.

So I continued in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro for several more months as God showed me more and more about that city and taught me more about myself!

Trusting the Lord to Provide--An introduction to the Red Command

August 26, 2010

A year prior to this date I would have given a typical evangelical response if asked about my feelings toward drug trafficking.   I would have probably even made elaborate claims about the economical response to such activity, but after this Saturday a year and a half ago my answer is now quit a different story.

Everything is the Lords, He chooses to to give some 10 talents and some but 1.  Everything under my watch belongs to Him and I must bear this in mind in every circumstance which I face.  He can multiply my talents or He can strip them from me.  The widows mill never ran out, 5,000+ people were fed using only a small lunch, and there was plenty of wine at the wedding for all to enjoy the celebration.  On the other hand Joseph lost everything he had, Moses fled to the wilderness after obeying the Lord, and Job for reasons which he could not see or comprehend lost his wealth, family, livestock, and even most of his friends.

Today (8-26-10) I lost something.  Something very small yet more valuable the associated price tag.  Today, I was allowed to see beyond the surface and experience my city the way she truely is.  While on our way to a new favela in the northern part of the city to volunteer with a friend from church (Cristiano and his wife) and meet the children he so diligently teaches every single week, the man sitting in front of my brother and I stood up.  I do not know his name or his situation all I know is that he had a small boy with him.

He stood as if to exit the bus, but he did not pull the cord.  Instead he reached into his pants and pulled a gun.  He pointed at my face and nodded at our backpack.  "Machila, Machila!" He shouted.  I remember looking down at our pack dazed and a bit confused.  I paused processing what was happening and with what response I would address such a rude and demanding threat.

My thoughts wondered only for one frozen moment and suddenly time sped rapidly and my consciousness returned my brothers words broke my concentration.  "He wants the pack!" Austin shouted, "Give him the backpack!"  I am certain Austin thought I simply did not understand as the man was shouting in Portuguese, but I understood perfectly at this point I had developed a basic vocabulary.

My thoughts no longer wondered, I had been in limbo about what I should do, or would my older brother be disappointed in me if I turned over his things as well as mine without even a struggle.  I simply obeyed my older brothers command.  Looking down the barrel of that gun I never felt afraid.  The only emotion I felt was confusion.  Confused about why this was happening, confused about what a proper response would be, and confused about how Austin would want me to react.

Looking back on the what happened this response is where I actually learn the most.  It was as if I were programmed to do exactly as my older brother said.  It was actually the best thing I could have done in the situation, but I still do not completely understand the robotic state that entranced me at that exact moment.

What I did learn for certain is that the Lord is revealing the dangers and evils of this city to me and I must trust  in Him alone.  Also I am learning to be on a higher level of alertness at all times and be careful about trusting anyone.  Trusting anyone to even sit next to me on a bus.  We were always on alert.

The World Needs Love!

My most sincere apologies for delaying this post.  Though I have enjoyed the procrastination, I finally managed to write something that hopefully a few people will find of interest. 

I appreciated the occasion to visit Myanmar because the very next morning we to an outreach hosting Thai Aboriginals as well as, interestingly enough, Burmese refugees.  All of which were children.  These children were so skilled and produced the most beautiful crafts.  I was actually able to procure a few things to send to my only sister Anna.  The children were by far the most lovable kind-hearted and welcoming children I have ever encoutered in any part of the world.  I wanted to stay all week with these kids because they were so thankful for a place to stay and study languages and learn skills.  They loved having foreign visitors and were so disappointed to see us leave.

These children are working and they are happy.  Many children world-wide enjoy countless hours of freedom and leisure, with only minimal if any duties and are so dissatisfied that they rarely even enjoy their lack of responsibility.  Yet here were children who were happy because they were loved.  More often than not we as adults fret and stress over finances.  If we have a child how are we going to do this? How will we pay for that mWhat will we do when ect.?  But in all my travels and of all the children I have met I am beginning to realize more and more that the most content, most pleasant, and even the most successful children are those who have love.

Of course they may never live in a huge home or win a Nobel Prize, but they experience success in their lives doing whatever trade and hobbies are to their taste.  Senior American citizens often confess to me, “We were poor, but we were happy.  We had each other and we all loved each other.”  They grew up in a time when family was what mattered—not money!

I recal an instance several months into living in Rio de Janeiro when Austin and I decided to explore the local community for a pool that had been mentioned.  Having finished a recent project it seemed a perfect opportunity for a leisurely afternoon.

We quickly made our way through the streets and soon found our destination.  As we sat enjoying the warm sun and cool water our quiet solitude was abruptly interuppted by the sound of kids with whom we had played nearly everyday.  This truly was their novelty.  Seeing the ‘gringos’, not at school, but with them at the pool.  After playing and swimming they wanted to show us every detail of their world.

They found insects, introduced us to a new fruit, picked flowers (I should tell you the pool is situated at an abandoned railroad station).  As we explored the ruins, many courtyards, rusted train cars, all of which were overtaken with weeds and jungle undergrowth.  The once concrete floors and high ceilings were broken up and pulled down.  It really is an interesting place in retrospect.

The boys inevitable intrduced us to a dandillion.  We in response told him of the American tradition of wishing on the weed and attempting to blow each pedal from the flower in a single breath.  Quickly the wishing began and within a matter of seconds the very last pedal released its grip on the flower and was carried off in the gentle breeze.

Casual we asked the young boys wish.  His reply was so simple, so candid, and so sincere that I will never forget his face nor his response.

“I wished.” He began, “that you would never leave Brasil.”  He finished, as he took Austin by the hand.

We stood shocked.  We felt so meaningless. Yes, we had done some construction, and spent a few hourse a day playing games and sports with the kids.  This however, was the last thing I expected.  I had supposed he’d wish for a toy or to go to a soccer game, possibly even new shoes (If he had any I am sure they were worn and probably too small).  Yet, love, attention, and approval is the greatest need and the largest wish of this boy and children world-wide rich or poor.

Myanmar (Old Burma) and Mangosteens!

I woke early Sunday morning full of Anticipation.  I was certain to be up before sunrise to get a first hand look at how Thailand greets a new day.  I was none disappointed either.  First I settled in for what seemed to be a fantastic sunrise as the sky turned red and the mountains to the west seemed to dance with excitement!  Then a cloud rolled in last minute and ruined the whole thing, but not to despair because I found the morning market just n time for dan bing "egg crape", a couple of newly discovered "meat sticks" as I like to call them (nearly life changing strips of pork soaked in egg and curry and grilled while you watch), some local fruit, but nothing new just local pineapple and some oranges.

Speaking of interesting fruit if anyone is travelling to Southeast Asia they must try the mangosteens! Look for a fruit that looks almost like an avocado, but when you split it open, it is burgundy.  The meat is in the center and is snow white. It is so sweet, and slightly tangy, extremely juicy, and honestly I cannot describe my excitement.  By far the best discovery in Thailand to date!  This is a fruit which excites me almost as much as maracuja or Colombian passion fruit.  They are only native to Thailand so must not be missed!  These are a must and are certainly more enjoyable than the fried grub worms I just polished off at lunch.

I digress, back to the story, we went up to the northern most point of the country and as I stood on the banks of a mere stream looking at the Myanmar locals longing to be in Thailand I realized that I had to cross.  Maybe just to satisfy personal curiosity but I needed to cross none the less.  How could I come so close to such a deprived and hurting country and not just enter? I had done my research the night before.  I knew that with a few U.S. dollars I could enter the country and that I would have no problems returning into Thailand. So all that was left was permission, keep in mind when I say, "all" that this is one of the most difficult things to gain when travelling with a group this size.

Interest in gaining access to Burma was mounting.  I had already been approached by several team members insisting that if I crossed the boarder I must take them along.  How everyone always seems to know exactly what I am thinking I still have not quit figured out, but every time someone wants an adventure they seem to come knocking on my door.  Please understand I am not complaining because if they mention it then most likely I am already thinking it.  If I am not, then I always welcome the suggestions.

I did finally decide not to enter a country without permission from from my sponsor.  A difficult decision, but very seldom it is when I regret submitting to authority.  So I waited, and waited, nearly an hour and a half.  Finally, I was granted the go ahead and about a dozen from our team had the opportunity to spend a few hours in boarder crosssings and visiting local shops in Myanmar--old Burma.

I was doubtful I could count this as a country visited, but after over an hour, having exchanged currency, nearly getting in a fight, having waved off hundreds of street vendors, taxi drivers, tour guides, and hospitality worker, attempting to make a quick buck off the tourists, I bought my patch and decided that this certainly was a cultural experience worthy of it's own flag on my pack.

This was just the beginning because what this did to open my eyes was nothing compared to how my gaze would be widened the very next day!  When coupled these experiences would make Myanmar a true journey and allow my global perspective to include all those suffering in such a tumultuous country.

Thailand!

Thailand, Say it again, Thailand!  Can anyone pronounce this name without being mentally bombarded with thoughts of dense jungle, fabulous beaches, spicy foods, ancient civilizations, lost tombs, mysterious temples, or hidden secrets of eastern mysticism?  After patiently waiting for the past three months I have finally stepped out of the back of a Toyota pickup and my boots are on the ground in sacred Thailand!

Our sponsors have sent us into the mountains of northern Thailand as volunteers to a few local schools.  We have the weekend to tour the legendary golden triangle where the British flexed their muscle and expanded control by introducing opium and causing massive addiction to this extremely binding drug.  This area became dubbed the "Golden Triangle" because of the  massive quantities of gold which traded hands and circulated as expensive opium was produced and exported out of this area.  It is called "Triangle" because from this point one must merely cross a small river to enter Laos or Myanmar or Burma.

I have the opportunity to tour this are Sunday and then until noon Monday, and then I will be going West into the mountains for a week of teaching English in one of the villages.

God Always Knows Best!

I was in great spirits just after the fire.  I was feeling great, had been working out, I was meeting with my former girlfriend online, and I had something exciting to talk with her about.  Things couldn’t be better!

That evening I anxiously booted up my netbook, fingers trembling with anticipation.  She was not online yet, excellent, I would be able to think through all the events of the week before she signed on, thus avoiding rambling or talking about useless topics to fill time.  I waited, kept waiting, I began to play on facebook then I checked my email. 

Waiting in my inbox was the explanation of her absence.  I quickly read through an email that exhausted the fact that we would never be more than friends and she was moving on, yet left not the slightest clue as to the reason or why.  I reread and I can not say for certain but I most likely read it a third and fourth time.

I tried to respond, I had so much I wanted to write.  It wall seemed useless.  I knew anything that I said I would most likely regret later so I decided to think it over.  There I was in the favellas of Rio de Janeirowith only my brother, a few English speakers at church, and Eduardo who never really runs out of things to talk about.  I had not talked to Kristin in weeks and Jen will most likely never use skype.

(I would like to mention here that I never did decide how to respond to that email, and so I just never did.)

God somehow always provides just what we need!  In this case what I needed was a Sarah, but not just any Sarah.  God provided a one of a kind Sarah Henrique, I had literally met her at church just days before.  When she came stumbling into church in her usual bumbling fun loving way she was clearly nervous because she was talking at an even faster rate than was common--even for Sarah.  We (or should I say) She talked for quit awhile and we exchanged numbers.  She is a cute, talkative, vibrant, short, talkative Brasilian college girl who had spent time in Canada, and enjoys travel, and talking, she speaks perfect English (at 100mph), and in case I didn’t mention it earlier she is very talkative.  Oh well, I couldn’t sit in the slums all weekend, so Austin made me call her and we all went to Impanema to have a nice dinner.

If there was anyone capable of talking enough to keep my mind off of Ana’s email, it was Sarah.  So she met us and brought a friend along, her best friend Raiza.  Let me state now that though they are great friends they are a bit opposite.  Raiza is a goal driven, results oriented, disciplined student, and carries herself with perfect class.  She also is not as annoyingly talkative (Just kidding Sarah!)  Given the combination of Raizas quiet friendly personality and the sheer speed that Sarah can talk, change topics, and even support arguments which happened hours before I knew this would not be a boring night!

Both have remained good friends of mine over the past year.  I do not remember all that we talked about that night, except I do remember thinking Raiza was Russian haha.  Both are amazing friends and have always been here for me.  There both have earned great internships in their field of study so congratulations Sarah Henrique and Raiza Vasconcelos.  You both were responsible for turning a very difficult week into an extraordinary weekend.  Thanks for always being so much fun! --Except for Raiza who is a workaholic and studies all the time and always ditches early to cram for homework and exams that are due the next month. I know your hard work is paying off Raiza so congradulations!

I love wasting time distracting Raiza from her studies and I love being the excuse Sarah finds to NOT study!  Thank you Sara for always keeping me informed on how God is working in your life, I know He has great things for in store for you!

FUEGO!

I remember that day well.  August 23^rd 2010 the day there was a fuego in the Providencia (fire).  As I was idly sipping cafezina (little coffee, but it should be called tiny cup of sugar) and relaxing in preparation for the last couple of hours of work, I smelled something peculiar.  My nose quickly identified the smell as smoke, but how and from where was it coming.

I ran outside and followed my nose up the favella, and remember the feeling of helplessness as I saw the flames coming down from the piles of liter on the mountain side.  In Brasil it is common practice to dump all garbage in any unoccupied area in sight.  The closer the better, as you would not want to excerpt much effort to do anything in Rio.  As a matter of fact most locals only put forth effort when a) going to the beach, b) going to eat, or 3) cheering on their favorite soccer (futbal) team.  So despite the greatest efforts on the part of the mission workers to keep the hillside clean and liter free, within a matter of months it is completely covered with unwanted boxes, plastics, wrappers, and the pigs who wander through for food. 

To my surprise everyone was hustling and bustling in an all out attempt to put out a raging fire that had broken out amongst the refuse and was quickly making it’s way down the hill toward our little mission.  We were well armed for the war on fire however (note sarcasm), our arsenal included: 2 one gallon buckets, and a water hose with no water pressure.  I joined the futile efforts and even took the front line of the assault on the flame that would soon engulf the orphanage and nurseries.  The fire dept. had been called, but what could they do, we were too high up the favella to be reached from the street, and the streets above were far too narrow and winding for the fire to be fought from the top.  Yes, I feared this would certainly be a devastating blow.

I abandoned my attempts to use the dripping hose to saturate the foliage and began axing down ever stick of underbrush and pulling it away from the buildings in order to create a dead space that couldn’t be jumped because of lack of fuel.  When I looked up I realized that time was nearly up, the flames had crept eerily close and were gaining speed.  I saw the fire truck in the street.  We had all heard the siren for the last half hour at least, we were all relieved to know that professional help had finally arrived if to offer nothing more than advice and a break.

To my surprise however the fire crew came actually prepared and the truck was loaded with a tank of water (having its own water supply allowed the truck to come half way up the mountain) and at least 1,000 feet of hose.  We cleared a line and ran the hose straight up the mountain and held the flame from advancing another foot.  Soon it was completely expelled. 

As I type out the story I realize how cliché it sounds.  Trust me I realized the cliché even as I was participating in this drama, but it certainly happened.  I helped save little orphans in the slums of Rio from a raging fire (I know it sounds like a bad hallmark movie).  Immediately after, I began reflecting on the incident and tried to realize what I could learn.  I was not sure but I was excited about the next day.  It was Friday and I had big plans—unfortunately the lesson I was to learn was not from the fire.  My lesson would be learned the very next day in a test that would be much more difficult, that was a different fire, but a fire that would have to be fought and expelled none the less.

Getting Past Lonely and Into Favellas!

I have decided that 2 blog posts concerning New Years are enough and will not bore my followers with new years resolutions and personal ambitions regarding finances, language studies, travels, adventures, and other personal goals which will most likely only serve to cause readers to fall into a state of deep sleep.  I will instead continue my story and how my travels began in 2010!  I had previously discussed my new found independence and my life as an unattached individual.

At this point I must mention my friend Jennifer and Kristin who played a huge roll in my not turning into a puddle of self-pity and pathetic emotions, but instead allowed me to move forward by always being there for me.  They helped me see past the short term and anxiously plan for the exciting future of international travels.  Anytime I nearly succumbed to the temptation to make a feeble phone call and spew my emotions or grabble in unnecessary dependency they were there for me.  Two friends who were exactly what I needed for the long 4 months of preparation for my journey ahead and getting past the past!

Jen is a strong, independent girl from Virginia Beach, who regardless of where we were, or what we were doing always was supportive and always made me smile.  Her bright smile, shiny black squinty eyes (sorry Jen but you do have those) could make anyone’s day better.  Also she was quick to listen and a great masseuse.  Jen if you are reading thank you so much for always listening, for acting like you understood even if you didn’t and especially for sincerely caring for me when I felt no one did.  I always smile when my mind wanders to you.  Thank you so much for making my 24^th birthday so special, when I was not even going to have dinner with anyone!  I promise that one year I will actually be in the U.S.A. on August 31^st and I will make it up to you.

Kristin can fill an entire post singlehandedly.  She is such a good friend who I share so many secrets with.  Things that went so wrong were always so fun as long as it were the two of us.  Nights that would have been considered disastrous by any other standard were so fun and always managed to make us laugh at our own mistakes.  Regardless of whether we were weekend road warriors, or just trying to find a place to escape on a Friday night so no one would know we were lame, we always had a good time!  Kristin if you are reading thank you for always being there for me and always encouraging me to do the right thing—or the wrong thing if it would make a good story!

These friends were instrumental in helping me make it to Brazil when I otherwise would have rushed back to my girlfriend and possibly been taken back.  But despite thinking that I had gotten over her, I do remember a crushing blow that came about six weeks after my arrival in Rio.  It happened just days after a fire broke out in our favella!

New Year's Post 2of 3

December 31, 2011

Though Christmas came and past relatively uneventfully, New Years has given me the opportunity to stop and reflect on the good things that God has given me and allowed me to enjoy.  He is so perfectly good, yet somehow I more often than not, tend to put my life in cruise control and watch it all pass me by.  Unfortunately in the end, I feel I very seldom stop to give thanks to the author of every good and perfect gift for all the perfect things which He allows to come into my life.

This year 2012 I want to capitalize on with full gratitude every delicious morsel of life, and use it for His glory.  2011 presented me the opportunity to visit eight new countries Argentina, Uruguay, Chili, Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Taiwan, and Hong Kong, two new states, Wisconsin, and Delaware and revisit some amazing cities like Chicago, Washington D.C., Baltimore, Charleston, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and Bogota, Colombia.

Every year seems to be successively more exciting than the last and I can truly say that my life has been more exciting than I could have ever dreamed. 

When I rang in 2009 I was nearly engaged to my girlfriend of over three years.  There is no telling where I would be had she not broken my heart and shaken my world in mid December of that year.  It is difficult to believe that just over two years have passed since I received that phone call.  I have been blessed beyond comprehension and it could never have been possible had she not had the courage to do something that must have been so difficult.  We both knew somehow deep down we were meant for different things.  Life was taking us in opposite directions, but that first step, that decision, that phone call was so difficult at the time.

So here I am sitting just one hour to 12:00-00:00:01 A.M. 2012, in Taiwan.  I am listening to my favorite old country songs, missing my family, counting my blessings, and reflecting on Isaiah 55:8-9.

“’For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

Before that clock ticks midnight—Be honest do any of us really use a clock that strikes midnight?  Anyway, before that clock points up, I want to take this a fleeting moment and truly count all my blessings.  We get so busy in the day to day that this is such an important time to remember all that Christ has done for us, where we have been, and prepare ourselves to confidently march onward, wherever He leads.  So I raise my glass, and wish you all

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

New Year's Post 1of3

Today Dec. 31st, 2011, I have been reflecting on the things God has given me, the places He has allowed me to visit, and the people He has allowed to influence my life.
Though you were so good to me 2011 and trust me you will be sorely missed, I am quit anxious to meet your brother 2012. I will greet him with equal excitement and anticipation for I know I will readily take every opportunity he presents, and I am sure 2012 will be a great year to be beautiful ;)

Buzios

If you life ever takes you to Rio, take a few days and travel just north to an amazingly quaint little town called Buzios.  Though this is an old city and very historic, it is renown for it's clear waters, spectacular beaches (nearly 100 I believe), and quiet coves that can be explored and enjoyed in solitude.  Due to it's popularity it becomes quit exciting at night and the city lights up with a life of it's own after sunset.

August 14, 2010
I just returned from the Buzios peninsula.  An exciting place with many beaches ranging from quiet and secluded to long populated beaches with great sun and fantastic waves.  Because it was overcast and somewhat rainy this weekend, I was able to enjoy the wildlife.  I observed a sea turtle as he explored a cove where I was meandering.  I also had the opportunity to watch a small penguin darting around the docks in search for something to eat.  He was so cute as he dove and dashed through the water looking for fishes!  With great patience I was finally successful in obtaining a few pictures of him.

As I left the peninsula saddened that it hadn't been sunny but thankful for the chance to have a quiet retreat, I noticed a verse.  I had never noticed Job 12:7-8 until now but here is what it says, "But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee: and the fowls of the air, shall tell thee: or speak to the earth and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee."  Thankful to find this verse after a great weekend of observing interesting wildlife.

Pedro de Gavia--Basket Rock

August 7, 2010

Pedro de Gavia

I always knew that when I left Rio I would have experienced more than most cariocas ever will, and explore more of their own city than they dare.  Living in the favelas was one such adventure, but I also recall a leisure trip that I made to one of the highest peaks along the coast, Pedro de Gavia (Basket Rock).  It was a fabulous Saturday and after 10 hours of uphill climbing, hiking, and scrambling we finally reached the pentacle. 

I will never forget that feeling, hours inside the humid jungles of Rio, strenuous uphill trekking and then suddenly the canopy lifted.  We had reached the top, and from that point only lush grasses grew on a flat plain like clearing.  We were surrounded by scenery.  The Statue of the Christ watching over the city, all the famous beaches laid out to our east (i.e. impanima, Copacabana, ect.), and lush jungle mountains to our west.  It was one of the most amazing views I have ever seen.  It truly was a fantastic day, and a much needed rest from the dirt and grim of daily life in the favela.

Weekend by weekend, trip by trip, lesson by lesson, I was becoming a traveler, but I had so many lessons to learn and so much to see and experience.  Taking out all my frustrations on the side of this mountain makes for a relaxing weekend and offers an amazing who go the distance.  Now it is time to take what I have learned and returned Gamboa, my favela.

The Illusion of Safety.

August 5, 2010

Proverbs 1:33, “But whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from fear of evil.”

As I discussed previously I had been experiencing an overwhelming peace of mind and security knowing that Christ had a plan for my life and He was watching over me.  I have begun to notice local firearm possession.  Though it is extremely difficult to legal own guns in Brasil the black market makes the enjoying ownership of a weapon easier than ever.  I have had them flashed at me even, but I quickly walk away and have felt never felt legitimately fearful to date.  I always just continue walking briskly away.  Also I had just learned that only a year prier to my arrival in Gamboa it would not have been uncommon for a foreigner to be shot and robbed if it were known he was carrying a camera!

“Dwell safely” I kept pondering this verse and the more I pondered the deeper the realization that no evil can befall us as long as we are following Him.  Which then raised a new question, “What is safety”? Job was safe because God was protecting him, yet he still suffered many things.

Everyone has the desire to explore new horizons, yet over every mountain we see another, taller, more compelling peak.  South America is my mountain and from the peaks of Brasil I can somehow see clearly.  God is revealing His beauty in nature and through people, the children we spend time with and the adults we encourage are a true inspiration.  Men consumed with anger and alcoholism, churches controlled by Catholicism, women swallowed up by jealousy and husbands living in infidelity, drugs enslaving communities.  Yes, Satan has a hold in Rio, but we “dwell safely”.

I began to realize that safety is just an illusion.  A blanket that many of us need to live out our lives.  I realize however, that the imaginary blanket of safety is much like the nuclear drills conducted in public schools during the cold war.  Children would practice getting under their desks in the event of a nuclear attack.  Anyone would have known that sitting under ones desk would no more prevent injury from a nuclear attack than an umbrella would shield against an erupting volcano!  Safety is a state of being, we are only safe when God is protecting us, regardless of the neighborhood we select, the schools we attend, the job where we work, or the activities we engage in.  In Rio despite a seemingly dangerous environment I was safe, and for the time I was at home.  God was protecting me and no one could stand against us.

The Rainy Season in Gamboa, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

August 4, 2010 I remember the night, standing under a shelter on the roof of our mission at the top of a large hill, at the base of a large Gamboa, the poorest, most dangerous favela in Rio. It was apparent that this was very dangerous, filled with drug lords, it was a constant hot spot between police and ‘trafficas’ the drug dealers.

That night rain was pouring down on the streets Gamboa, and on nights like these she seems so mournfully sad.  Typically the sound of samba music filled the air, and boisterous drunks talked loudly amongst themselves.  I loved Gamboa, I knew God had brought me to her I was not sure if I were to have a great impact on this city, or if it were she that would be the impacting force upon my life.   I stared down at her from my rooftop porch meditating on the life of Christ and how he was led around the countryside from place to place.  I wonder if he always knew why or if He took sometimes just took a step of faith not completely sure of what work the Father would have him to do.  The Bible is clear that we cannot control the harvest.  All we can do is pray to the Lord of the harvest to send workers.  We can only scatter the seeds that we are given.

Yesterday, the most encouraging thing happened. A man who speaks no English had been watching my brother and I meticulously work, painting and cleaning. He came up to us and using only ‘sign language’ explained that he had never seen any missionaries who cared as much as we did.  He said that he knew Christ lived in our hearts because we not only took time to do a job that desperately needed doing, we did it well.  (Brasilians take shortcuts whenever possible). I can only suppose the American volunteers do also. He would continue to be of the biggest blessing during my time in Rio. With his animated expressions and over the top motions he could explain nearly any concept, idea, or event relying solely on nonverbal communication! It was actually an amazing sight to behold.

My city may be glumy tonight, but I can see beauty in the eyes of the children, the cooks who love to mother their ‘American boys’ and the ladies who have come from such broken and abusive homes and yet giggle like little girls when our blue eyes look their way and we smile caringly at them.   True this city has its share of darkness, but God is protecting me from what lies in the allies and up in the favelas. I pray that He can use me as a light as He reveals the struggles that some of these locals face daily.  He is the Light, I am only His messenger, but I pray that I will allow myself to be used to fullest to accomplish and experience all He has waiting for me here in Gamboa.

Hong Kong!

November 21, 2011

“In the secret place of His tabernacle He shall hide me; He shall set me high upon a rock.” Psalm 27:5

A few hours ago I was giddy with anticipation.  Now my heart and legs sink beneath me.  I ease to the ledge to see a thirty five feet plunge to the pool at the base of these falls, in Northern Hong Kong.  I can barely stand much less I fear be able to clear the simple foot or two of rocks in order to smoothly sail into the clear cold waters below. 

I step away, laugh at the decision I am about to make, give myself a countdown, and suddenly find myself hurling from my perch.  My body goes weightless, I feel exhilarated and freed from the fear that held me clutching to the rock just seconds earlier.  Then none to quickly the wait is over and my body crashes into the cold water.  I did it!  I conquered my fear and jumped from a cliff after a tough mountain hike.  What a wonderful feeling!

There is a lesson to be learned.  As I stood on the cliff I kept pondering, for some reason, the words of Dr. Gothard.  He correctly claims that too often we allow our mind to be in control.  We rationalize and attempt to unlock scripture using our minds. But God is bigger than that, His word is more powerful than that, our minds hold us to the things we can know.  I know I am safe on that cliff.  When we however, take our mind out of control—ie taking a few step run and belaying ourselves off the cliff that is when our spirit is truly free to experience all the wonderful things God wants to reveal to us.

My mind is too often in control.  I had to completely shut it down to make this jump.  It just didn’t make sense.  Why would people jump off a cliff and free fall into the water?  But I was not going to be content until I had experienced for myself.  My prayer is that God will help me take my mind off the throne in all other areas of my life so that in my spirit I can feel the same freedom that my mind and body felt free falling earlier.

Which brings to a question that always brings a smile to face in its simplicity yet depth which I cannot fully explain, “How did I end up in Asia?” and also, “What is my true purpose here?”  I do not yet know, I cannot explain, but I am so satisfied that He did.  “Oh taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in Him.” Psalm 34:8

Leaving my Mountain Top

“I’ll live my life to the fullest. I’ll be happy.  I will be more joyful than I have ever been.  I will tell others about Christ. I will go on adventures and change the world.  I will be bold and not change who I really am.”

            “I will wipe away the bad memories and only remember the good.  In fact that is all I remember, just good moments, I will set an example for others, I will pray for direction.”  Brooke Bronkowski

            I found this to be appropriate for all Christians to live by.  Brooke was actually only twelve years old when she wrote this profound mission statement.  After purposing to live her life in this way she gave away hundreds of Bibles before she died—at the age of fourteen.

            As I sit, pondering the depth of this quote and the ramifications of living my life in such a way, my mind wanders back to my first week in Brasil, July 26^th 2010.

Out in the jungles, we spent our days completing grueling manual labor using only the most basic tools i.e. shovel, pick, and hammer.  I truly have enjoyed getting to know my team members and learning character traits from each.  Bob the inventor and civil engineer demonstrated leadership and determination.  From Zack my fellow worker I saw Christ, I saw Him in his patience, sincerity and light-hearted personality.  From Alyssa and all the Brazilians I noticed hard work and determination.  Many of them going from job to job tirelessly, I felt I would give out soon, my knees and back were screaming for mercy, but I will not be a stereo-type.  If they are working I will work, if they rest only then do I rest.  Somehow all the work I was doing was in quiet anticipation of going back, back to my mountain.

            God had giving me a fantastic week.  Upon completion of our 3 days of intense labor, we began a two day VBS for the local children.  They are fantastic and very anxious to practice their English with me.  Much to their surprise I do play volleyball at their level.  As I dove into the sand bloodying my knee and setting the ball smoothly into the air for an easy spike I earned their respect.  “The gringo is here to play.”

After a full day of fellowship and broken communication we sat by a bonfire.  One of the locals began to play his guitar, and as music tickled our ears the flame enticed our vision.  I sat quietly nestled warmly in my coat listening to Rick play love songs from past decades and watched as the flames tried to lick the stars above.

It is so cold there in the mountains at night, the mosquitoes though painfully abundant during the day are nowhere to be found after sunset.  I was so thankful to my sister for encouraging me to bring my pea coat.  I was saddened to think that tomorrow would be my last day here in the mountains.  I was however, quit excited at the thought of catching a bus back to the favela, my home.  I will begin my work, and language studies, I will begin immersing myself in the culture and becoming a wanderer. 

There I was ankles swollen from mosquito bites, muscles aching from working and chasing children, but somehow perfectly relaxed, perfectly at peace, perfectly ready to begin my new mission.  Rio seems so far away now.   Maybe this is what is meant by living life to the fullest, I certainly had never felt so satisfied and so fulled as I did at that very moment.  Sitting at that campfire, observing the beauty of the Southern Cross, a constellation so perfectly majestic yet quietly tucked far out of view from the entire northern hemisphere, listening to the quiet guitar and Portuguese musician, perfectly content and ready to go wherever life would take me.  God had taught me and shown me so much here, but now it was time to go into the world to apply these lessons of faith and self-sacrifice.

My Journey of a Thousand Miles

Brasil the stepping stone toward a new life, it was my Declaration of Independence!  I hope most of my readers have had such an experience.  Most often this occurs at age 3-6ish.  You have stood with your face pressed against the glass your entire life, but then you are given permission to go.  Unsure of the reality of what is actually taking place you cautiously glare at the parent who is slowly opening the door and encouraging you to be—independent!   As you burst out of the house with excitement you undoubtedly tripped within the first 5 or 6 steps, only a minor setback however, in your quest to explore!  They are giving you permission to explore uncharted territory’s sail to the equator, journey to the moon, climb Mt. Everest, or at least wander aimlessly around the backyard drooling and chasing a stupid red ball which is only rolling because you clumsily kick it every time you try to pick it up.  But in the perspective of the young tike this is an equally important and challenging charter.

The Journey of a Thousand Miles, Begins with a Single Step.
~Ancient Chinese Proverb

The Brasilian (They spell it this way so why do we change it) Jungle

Sunlight, it is a fascinating thing when it is being gently strained through the tropical canopy of the Brasilian forests.  The entire area seems to come alive for just a fleeting moment as nocturnal creatures return to their homes, and diurnal animals arouse from their sleep.  As I hiked through those woods, observing all the many creatures, the transition is a fantastic thing to observe.

Life had taken me down, Rio de Janeiro, the land of Sun, Fun, and Samba!  God provided a place for us to live and work, which despite not getting paid, we did to our fullest.  In return we were provided with room and board.  I knew I was exactly where God wanted me for the moment.  Here in the mountains, with a group of U.S. Methodist missionaries, repairing churches in the countryside.  Safely tucked away from the noise and distractions in the city of Rio de Janeiro, I was several hours inland in the mountains.

The previous night I had sat atop a bald mountain top starring in wonder at the constellations.  I had seen them my whole life, leisurely taking note of different stars and their positions.  That night, I saw them for the first time upside down.  My favorite, the Southern Cross, sits so perfectly and quietly just over the horizon, safely hidden from the entire northern hemisphere.  This experience was a stark realization of how far from home I actually am and how uncertain my new life will be.  This is not a vacation this is my new home.  God has given me one week in the mountains as a gift, a retreat, but the time here was not to be squandered frivolously, I must take every advantage of this time in order to be prepared for the work ahead.

As the Sunlight now piercing strongly through the trees, my position is exposed and some very loud birds proudly announce my presence.  All the forest creatures are driven away and I rush down the mountain knowing breakfast is waiting and I am not to be late.  I spend the day working very hard, and counting the hours.  Secretly desiring more than anything to rush back to this mountain in anticipation of seeing the new birds, frogs, snakes, and stars which will certainly come out to dance again tonight!