Volunteer in Mission to Brazil

06 March 2006

Limbo, limbo

I was hoping to already receive my visa in February and be able to return to Brazil by now, but this has not happened. It's now March, and according to my conversation with the Brazilian consulate a few days ago, there is still no word from the office in Brasilia (the capital) on my visa application. I feel like my application was sent into a black hole, never to return. Although I am relying on a God who is greater than any government's bureaucracy, I don't have the luxury of knowing exactly when and how this will all end. I've noticed, over the course of my adult life especially, that the things that seem interminable and even unbearable while I'm experiencing them are, in retrospect, only drops in the bucket.

I am, as I've previously mentioned, very blessed to have a good interim job, a reliable car loaned by a friend, and several places where I can live while I wait. I am just getting weary of living out of a suitcase, moving every week or two, and trying not to slip into the American routine of constantly spending money to occupy my free time, whether it be eating in a restaurant, going to the movies or shopping. Looking back at my limbo period from Christmas until now, the things I've enjoyed the most have been the fellowship activities with friends and family that did not involve any financial cost--playing dominoes, having stimulating discussions, hanging out with precocious children, sharing photos and impressions of my experience thus far in Brazil.

I am concerned for my friends in Brazil because I've been told via e-mail that one or two of the community centers where I've volunteered might be closing due to financial difficulties. I wish that I had the means to write a check and fix it, but as I've learned along the way, God rarely works through my Superman "save everyone and fix everything" complex.

I figured I should mention some specific highlights to balance out the bemoaning. One highlight was going to an "International Night" at a local elementary school with my friends to watch their son perform traditional Indian dance as part of a group and then squeeze through the crowded hallways to collect stamps from each country's table in his "passport." As much as I love children, I wonder how today's parents can survive, let alone thrive. After 30 minutes in that crowded school, I was ready to run screaming from the building to escape the turmoil. On the flip side, though, it's something indescribable when a small child spontaneously comes up to you and makes him- or herself at home in your lap. I've also enjoyed having deep discussions with my friends about the U.S., race, immigrants, life choices and eating home-cooked meals. One of the funniest things was visiting briefly with my 18-month-old niece yesterday, who is currently learning to jump. She is a jolly little soul anyway, but it was pretty hilarious to see her bending with such determination and then trying to spring-launch herself into the air, only to get up to her tiptoes and never really leave the ground, nevertheless squealing with delight each time.

I'm glad to be back at a place where I can walk and catch the subway to work. I definitely see how much more my American lifestyle revolves around food than my Brazilian lifestyle did, and I'm already seeing the repercussions in clothes that have gotten a bit too snug.

A theory I've been tossing around for a little while now is that comparison is the root of all misery. That is not to say that all comparison results in misery, because, as my mother emphasized to my siblings and me, you can always find somebody in a better position but also in a worse position than you are. So if you're comparing yourself to someone less fortunate, you might feel blessed, for example. What I mean is that when you are unhappy, it almost always seems to be related to expectations of yourself based on what you see others doing. So much of unhappiness is looking at a part of somebody else's situation and saying, "I'll be happy when I have what they have, am as thin/rich/smart/beautiful/popular as they are," etc. One thing I am struggling with is learning that several acquaintances in Washington DC have gotten married and/or had children during the time I worked in North Carolina. I have to constantly remind myself that it's not a contest, I see very few marriages I would like to imitate, and I would rather wait on the person God is choosing for me than settle for a relationship that is less than amazing. It's a constant challenge to savor each day, whether or not anything special happens, and not to fall into a mindless routine, thinking, "I'll be really happy if/when I find a husband, have a family, etc."

Some special blessings have been looking for reassurance, and finding it in Proverbs 23:18 "Surely there is a future, and your hope will not be cut off" because I looked up "envy," which led me to 23:17. Then I finally got to the religious bookstore to buy a devotional book (something I've been meaning to do for months) and the first devotion I read is about time in the desert and how much life there is in the desert that is not immediately obvious to the observer.

Finally, I've noticed more than ever before how much the U.S. is built on the backs of immigrants. It started that way from its inception with the indentured servants and the slaves, and has continued in the same fashion throughout the country's history, with the ethnicities of the immigrant groups periodically shifting. The interesting thing is that you see it on both ends of the job spectrum--the manual laborers but also the scientists and engineers. I am not of the camp that says "they are taking our jobs" because it's clear to me that these immigrants are performing work that many Americans are not willing or qualified to do. I've had some discussions with friends about the formation of mini-communities that intersect very little with the American mainstream and yet are crucial to the current economic state of affairs. The questions is how to notice these growing communities and not develop prejudices, resentments, etc. This is particularly difficult with respect to communities that purposely segregate themselves from the mainstream culture. It's also interesting to notice how certain immigrant groups seem to have established foundations in certain industries, whether it be drycleaning, motels or parking garages. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with Cousin Abe, who arrived first from country X and was able to establish one successful drycleaning business/motel/parking garage, and he then helped his friends and relatives to establish their own.

And I'm sure you might ask yourself--what does all of this have to do with Brazil? When I get to go back, I'll be sure to let you know...

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