Happy New Year! Summer trip (its summer here after all)

Hey all, so I finished up all my pre Christmas activities in São Paulo and then went to the airport to wait Ariel's (college roommate) visit. Since then it has been nonstop moving around, we went to a Christmas Eve dinner at a friends house then left the next day for Rio, then took a bus to Buzios which is a little beach town about two hours up the coast that was beautiful, we spent three days there before coming back to Rio and spending the last three here. Today we are going to Copacabana for New Year's eve, its supposed to be one of the best places in the world to spend the new year. We leave tomorrow to return to Sao Paulo and grab a bus to the Iguazu waterfalls before continuing on to Buenos Aires and then to Montevideo, Uruguay. From Montevideo, I'll take another bus back into Brasil before flying to Salvador, Bahia, Brasil to be a translator for a missions team from the US coming down to work on a project with my Brasilian mission. I'll be there for two weeks before finally going back to Sao Paulo on the 22nd of January. Thanks for your continued prayers and support. Much love and God bless. Happy New Year!!

Sniffing glue, Christmas parties and soccer camp

“Indeed if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with the drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who want to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.” -CS Lewis

These past two weeks have continued to be full of year ending parties and camps. I went last week for a Christmas party for the street kids we work with. I arrived at the church in the center that runs a lot of the programs for various marginalized people groups in the center and began the preparations. We brought a big grill and like 100 pounds of meat, about 10 gallons of ice cream and about a 100 liters of soda. We decorated the church and prepared presents for each of the kids before we hit the streets to find the kids. We woke up every kid we found sleeping in the park, with many people passing by stopping to wonder what we were doing. Now I am starting to recognize and know many of the kids. We rounded up the kids and started the journey across the city center to carry the kids to the party. Several kids didn’t want to come with us and stayed where they were sleeping or sniffing glue, one kid named Sandro I immediately took a liking too, I chatted with him for a while about the streets, about his family and life. I soon found out that he had recently been at a Christian orphanage that I know well and had run away (he has since returned there). Many of the kids (aged maybe 6-18) carried there coke bottles filled with glue or paint thinner with them, hiding it somewhere in the city on their way over, knowing that we wouldn’t let them in with glue. When we arrived at the gate, ready to enter the party, full of steak, ice cream, games, music and presents two kids stood at the gate and plainly refused to give up their glue. One of the kids I knew fairly well, his name is Wesley, he’s about 10 years old and just a year ago lost one of his legs. He was riding the cargo train to Santos, which is a beach town not too far from here, I’m not sure of what exactly happened, but he lost his leg in the accident. He now walks around on crutches and reminds me of Tiny Tim. As I watched him sit outside the gate sniffing glue, with various Tios (literally uncles, but meaning like leaders) urging him to give up the glue and come into the party I couldn’t help but have a broken heart. The party went on without him and he eventually hobbled back to the park he normally hangs out in. As the party ended, the kids gorging on as much steak, ice cream and soda as they could have we encouraged them to leave the streets and shared a gospel message with them. None of them want to leave the streets, that is all they know and all they want, they have opportunities to be placed in homes or maybe even families but they prefer the streets. As that party moves into the past I can’t help but continue to reflect on Wesley and how he refused to enter the party.
At my soccer camp which was this past week I had the opportunity to get to know the guys better, they all tried to “baptize” me in the pool, but with no luck, we played lots of “bola” (ball, as they call soccer), had lots of pillow fights and ate some good food. We had a devotional time once during the day and I shared with my group from John 3, I shared about Moses lifting up the snake in the wilderness and how Jesus can be that salvation for us, but how we have to choose to look, we have to choose repentance and humility. It was just then that Wesley came to my mind, I shared with them about the street kids and about the two kids that chose to sniff glue instead of enter the party. I noticed in their faces that their attentions peaked; I asked them what their “glue” was, what it was that was keeping them from entering God’s party. We talked about the reality and temptations of the easy money and power of being a drug dealer, about using drugs and using woman, we talked about the struggles of giving up our “glue”, but about the joy of the party if we will only trust the Father that his party is infinitely better than our “glue”. I shared with them some of my own struggles and asked them to pray with me, to pray that God might free us from “sniffing glue” from whatever it was that was keeping them from the party. I invited them to look to Jesus and be saved, to stop “sniffing glue” and to enter into the eternal party of the creator of the universe. Several of them I knew had already prayed that prayer and several said that wanted to enter the party, I prayed with them and felt sad that I wouldn’t have more time to be here to see them grow up, to disciple them and see God work in their lives. I would ask prayer for these guys, for Daniel, Maurilio, Danilo, Erick, Kile, Miquael, Elias. Pray that their hearts might continue to be touched by the Father and that in the few months left I might be able to share God’s love with them. I praise God for the futsal ministry and how I can now see that it really is changing and shaping boys to become men of God.

My friend Wesley

sorry for a disjointed all over the place post

Wow, its hard to believe now that is has been nearly three months since I arrived in Brasil. That first time I entered the favela it was with fear and trepidation, now it is with joy that I can enter the favela. I no longer feel afraid or wonder if I will get lost and not find my house. I no longer fear someone will say something to me and I won’t understand and I feel accepted now as part of the community. The human being is an amazing creature how it can adapt to new situations so quickly, how the mind can adjust to seeing new things so quickly that they cease to be new after a short while; that it no longer seems strange to see guys on the corner selling drugs or even more curiously seeing those same guys flying kites.
These past few weeks have been good, but busy. On Saturday we had our year end closing party/dinner for the Radicais (Bible club sort of group). It was neat to see all of the kids/teens there and looking nice. We held it at a nearby church and had a big dinner for the families, most of them came which was an answer to prayer. The kids had been practicing a Christmas song all week (an odd one because it’s to the tune of Santa Claus is Coming to Town, but it’s about Jesus coming, which is the only version of that song known here in Brasil) and sang it for their parents. It was great to see smiles of accomplishment as some kids received rewards for outstanding behavior and all received Christmas presents. The whole banquet was a lot of work, but well worth it.
Last night I went to a ballet put on mostly by people from my community, it was sponsored by a ballet non profit that works with underprivileged kids, I was thoroughly impressed by the professionalism of the show (it was at a local theater with professional lights and scenery). It was great to see the kids faces shine as they knew they had done something special and worth all the applause they received. It was an odd moment too as I realized that after the show they still went back to their mostly broken homes and broken neighborhood, but for that one moment they were stars.
During this week we have been busy with Spring cleaning as I have sanded and painted many walls and railings now and continue to do odd jobs around the house to beautify the place. It’s a strange thing living in a favela because you know that any investment in your home might not really pay off long term because there is no real sense of long term because at any moment the government could hand you about $2,000 and give you a few weeks to move out before they bulldoze your house and build a luxury high rise condominium. Anyways sorry for low quality of the entry, but I’m tired and not feeling like writing for anyone to read but myself. I love and miss you all.

Police, Corruption and Drugs

I wrote this a few days ago, but the past few days, my neighborhood has been on the city wide news for drugs, with police all over the place...

Yesterday was the last day of practices (we still have a bunch of games and then our camp before the year really ends) for the year for my escolinha de futsal (Soccer school) and so we had coaches versus kids game. Although there are only 2 coaches, Fabio (the head guy) and I, but there a lot of people involved in the project and so we put together a team and the kids were very excited to play against us. We managed to win all of our games, I think we played for about 4 hours in total and by the end of the day my legs were so heavy I felt like I couldn’t walk, but it was a good feeling. I feel like I have come such a long way in my 2 1/2 months here, I remember my first day at the soccer school, not so confident in my Portuguese, finding it hard to communicate with the kids and not even knowing the rules of futsal. Now, I feel like I can communicate what I need to, know the kids by name and feel comfortable joking around with them and having a good conversation and I think I am finally starting to play futsal better as an added bonus. All this to say that as I was heading home I was feeling pretty good about the day, but ready to take a cold shower, drink a lot of water (preferably clean and cold, but knew it would be from the faucet and room temperature) and just relax.
Earlier in the day I had wanted to go back to my house to get something during our soccer lunch break and noticed about 8 police cars outside my favela as well as a helicopter hovering overhead, I cautiously entered, passing several policemen on my way to the house, grabbed what I needed, said hi and goodbye to some house mates who made sure I carried my documents (here in Brasil everyone always carries documents b/c it can be dangerous not to have them if the police stop you, especially here in my neighborhood). I went back for the afternoon of soccer forgetting about the policemen, but as I returned to my house for the day about 6 hours later the police and helicopter were all still there. It is common to see cops in the neighborhood, but usually they just drive by or stay for a few minutes, but yesterday was obviously something entirely different. From talking to neighbors most of the time the cops just drive by, take the drugs and money from the kids that are selling and leave the kids themselves alone. This time it was clear that would not be the case.
I later learned that the helicopter was not from the police, but from the news and that all this had happened because of a news report. Apparently our favela was on the news the night before as a reporter had gone undercover and bought drugs here. He had apparently done it several times as well as filming the drug activity. Within 12 hours of its airing on the news the police arrived in force at the favela, swept the place clean and put on a nice show for the news helicopter hovering overhead. It all makes me so mad, the police knew that drugs were sold there, they would come by and basically steal from the drug dealers and keep the money/drugs for themselves, but now that it was on the news they had to make a show of it as if they didn’t know beforehand. It’s all so political that it makes me sick. As I returned to the neighborhood the entrance to the favela (one day when I have a bit more courage I will take some pictures, I just don’t want to look like a tourist here) it was surrounded by about 6 police officers with probably about 20 more waiting by the 10 or so police SUV’s that were parked outside the entrance. I cautiously approached not sure I wanted to enter the favela when I noticed the two guys who always sold drugs outside the community being handcuffed and carried off in the police cars. I realized that for a while I had carried animosity for them, but just recently had started praying for them as human beings, not just for the drug traffic to go away, but for them and I felt such sadness seeing them carried away. (As I now talk to the guys in my house it is unclear who if anyone was actually arrested, but I’m fairly certain at least one guy was, the cops often let people go for a bribe.) People don’t leave prison rehabilitated, the leave worse, I fear for their lives and for their souls. I don’t even know their names, I would say what’s up to them as I passed by, but I never had a real conversation with them and it just seems so wrong that they should be taken away. I know they sold drugs, I know they brought so much pain to others, but they are only just kids (18-22 years old), kids making dumb decisions and now will pay with their futures.
As I walked into the favela tonight and saw the police sitting outside I found myself sad to not see the guys out there and with animosity towards the police. I know that both sides are wrong, the police who normally steal from drug dealers and don’t care about the welfare of the people only the size of the wallet and the kids that sell drugs and make money illegitimately. It maddens me that they come and do this whole show just because it was on tv when they have obviously known about it all for a long time. The politics of it all is just sickening and my heart sinks to think about those guys spending a few years rotting away in jail.
Earlier in the day I was up on the roof of my house trying to find internet when I saw one of the guys I play soccer with a bunch and always try to talk to when I see him. He is the nicest guy, very intelligent and well mannered. He is probably about 20-21 years old and used to be involved in the ministry of our house and of an area church. He still talks fondly about a group of Americans that came down on a missions trip and worked at his old church. Now, he never goes to church anymore and I knew he was involved in the drug trafficking, but I wasn’t sure how. As I stood on the roof and saw him across the way I said hi and he cracked some joke that I didn’t quite catch and then proceeded to step on the roof of the house in front of him carrying a big clear plastic bag that I could see had the packaged drugs in them. He went to the place I have learned is their stash (which is quite visible from my house, but almost nowhere else) hid the bag underneath the roof in this little place they created and went back to his house. It was the craziest thing just how normal it all was for him, I don’t know what to say to him or how to reach him, to help him. Later in the day I saw him and felt a bit awkward, I think he felt it too. I would pray for wisdom with how to talk to him and to pray for his life too. I don’t want to put his name here just in case for some reason someone understands English and reads my blog from here, but please pray for him.
It is such a battle to make kids understand that trading their future for a few highs today is not worth it, but this is so hard for them to grasp. I would ask for prayers for those guys, prayer that God might work a miracle in their lives and that instead of growing a hate inside of them while they are in prison there might grow up in them a hope that there could be a better life out there an alternative life, a fulfilling and abundant life of faith in God. Please pray for them and for my neighborhood both so desperately needing the love and healing that only God can bring.

Shoe shine boys and homemade bombs

Monday is my day of rest here, where I usually take it easy and have a Sabbath. Today, I walked to São Paulo’s domestic airport which is about 15 minutes from my house. I went there to look around and to check something for a friend that is coming to visit after Christmas. I found myself surprised by two things. First, was that I was able to read this month’s TIME magazine, The Economist and a bit of Newsweek in English while I blended in with the other air plane travelers in the airport news store. It’s a small thing, but a neat discovery as I miss reading print editions of news in English.
The other more noteworthy realization from my airport visit was the unexpected sight of a few people I know. I was sitting on a bench outside of the airport journaling a bit when I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Rut, one of the guys from my soccer ministry. He sat down next to me and started to chat for a while. He was carrying a wooden device which took me a moment to recognize as a shoe shining stand. I asked him how business was and he said it was a Monday and so a slow day, not much business. As we continued to chat two other guys that I know from soccer/the neighborhood stopped by and sat down, Johnny and Felipe. We talked some trash about our big Coaches vs. Players game we have tomorrow and about the shoe shining business. These guys come to the airport every day after school for four or five hours and said on a good day they can make $20USD which is quite a good amount of money considering minimum wage here is about $200USD/month. They said they can make about $1.50 a client and on a good day shine the shoes of 20 or 30 clients. (It made me think back to my parents visit to Mexico City when my dad was conned into a $40 shoe shine.) As the guys ran off abruptly from our conversation (I think because they saw a policeman) I thought to myself what an interesting sight. A middle class white guy from the US sitting on a bench at the São Paulo airport with 3, 13-14 year old shoe shiners and not having his shoes shined, but talking to them as friends and being surprised at their occupation. I then realized that most of the kids that shine shoes and sell little pieces of candy are kids I know from my favela or one of the surrounding favelas. My experiences here are really helping me to redefine how I see people that sell things on the street or who are homeless. As I throw a tennis ball back and forth (being caught with one of those round Velcro “gloves”) in the midst of a business walking intersection of the city, I too was struck at the strangeness of the sight. Most people walking by seemed to be businessmen either ignoring completely the antics of the street kids or looking on them with disgust. I now see them as friends and the shoe shine guys too. I think I will never be able to see people the same on the street and I think that’s a good thing.
A minor note, the latest fad in my favela is the homemade bomb, a very powerful firecracker that would definitely do some damage if it went off in your hand. All day yesterday the sound of the explosions filled the favela. One time right next to the window I was standing next time causing me to jump and even be pushed back a little. I feared the glass would break, but luckily it didn’t. Just as I was thinking that its odd that no one ever complains about the 24/7 loud music and now the bombs going off two women simultaneously came out of their house and started to yell at a couple of the guys (my age) who were setting the bombs off. The guys responded that they lived in a favela, what could they expect, people that live in a favela are like this and she had better get used to it. I was struck by the defeatism of the whole thing. There is a word in Portuguese enfavelado, which means someone that lives in a favela and doesn’t really know anything outside of the favela. It is a sad and pessimistic culture which calls for low expectations; an acceptance of your favela dwelling and poverty as a permanent condition and as a result a culture of today, which glorifies drinking, drugs and criminal activity with no thoughts for the future. Its a sad reality and one I pray for often, I pray for my boys, my friends, that they might have the courage to look to something greater, to an eternal city, not an earthly one and in the process to be able to overcome the plethora of vices and traps in the favela to grow up to be successful and honorable fathers and husbands.