Fine-tooth comb
Cooties!
I wish this was an April Fools joke, but it's not...
Imagine my surprise when I discovered this morning that my itchy scalp was not merely the result of sweating in the hot weather or, perhaps, dandruff, but rather, my very first lice infestation. Gross! Thankfully, I actually had some cash and a phone book and could call the pharmacy, who delivered the lotion and fine-tooth comb that the pharmacist recommended. (This is, of course, after I had to look up the Portuguese word for lice in the dictionary.) I'm kind of a queasy person, so I was barely able to extract the little buggers from my head without throwing up or passing out, but by the grace of God, I managed. I also made sure to call both of the projects where I work so they could check the kids. Apparently, head lice is even more common here than in the U.S. because of the tropical climate. When I arrived at São Gabriel and was joking with my colleagues about it, it seemed that everybody had experienced head lice at least once as a child. I also mentioned my bout with self-pity this morning that being single and living alone, it took me longer to realize what the problem was and that it was harder to treat because I can't see the parts of my head where the lice love to hang out--behind the ears and at the nape of the neck. My colleague, Fernanda, joked that she was thinking another option if I had a spouse would be to have someone to whom I could pass the lice and who could have a worse infestation than me. But nobody here has experienced it as an adult. I must be special (and perhaps lacking some immunity?)... In any case, I'm now paranoid and imagining that every slight itch, drip of sweat, etc. is a louse that I somehow missed in my hour with the fine-tooth comb this morning.
The weekend
This weekend was very busy and afforded little-to-no relaxation. Saturday I came to São Gabriel to finish editing the PowerPoint presentation and flyer for my supervisors to take with them on their month-long trip to the U.S. and also to take pictures of the Shade and Fresh Water training meeting. It was impressive that not only were the volunteer trainers for the Shade and Fresh Water program working on Saturday, but also the kitchen staff (who worked extra Friday night through Sunday afternoon to cook for the training); two of the teachers from the project who were preparing the background scenes for the Easter cantata; some young volunteers from a local college that were working on getting the computers in the computer lab in good working order; and my supervisors, who were getting ready to leave on their month-long trip the following morning. One of the teachers is even going to college at night now, and Saturday and Sunday are her only "free" days to study, clean, etc.
Saturday evening, I wanted to go home, but I'd been told about a birthday worship service/party for one of the teenagers in my church and ended up going to that. I was actually leaving São Gabriel around 7:00 and about to walk to the bus stop to catch the bus home when I ran into three young women from church walking to the party, so I figured it was a sign that I should go. It was a pretty good hike from the community center to the church, especially with my laptop in my backpack. Nobody told me it was for her 15th birthday (which, seen as a passage to adulthood, is a very big deal here), otherwise I would not have gone in my blue jeans. Although I was underdressed and hadn't showered that evening (unlike everybody else), nobody seemed to pay attention to my clothes or treat me any differently, which was nice. Before the event was over, one friend from church walked me to the nearby metro station to catch the last or next-to-last train home, and I arrived around 11:00 pm.
Sunday morning, I got up early to catch the bus to the neighboring town of Santa Luzia (~30 minute ride) to visit a Shade and Fresh Water project that only meets on Sundays in the Palmital neighborhood. Thankfully, the coordinator was at the bus stop to meet me, and he walked me around the town a little to see the fair that was in the town center. In some ways it resembled a smaller version of the "producer's" or "hippie" fair that they have every Sunday morning in downtown Belo Horizonte. One major difference that this fair sold a lot of used things (electronics, plumbing and hardware supplies, etc.) in addition to produce, new clothes and jewelry. On my journey to that neighborhood, I'd noticed several people with various types of plants in their hands, and finally it hit me that it was Palm Sunday.
In theory the project starts at 9:00, but it takes a little while for the majority of the kids to wander in. I took lots of pictures of the kids, their various activities and their modest facilities. They meet on a property abandoned by the school system, and there's a lot of possibility for structural improvement (crumbling walls, missing windows, etc.). There are no kitchen facilities, and only one room has electricity, so the volunteers had to prepare the snacks for the kids at their homes and transport them to the project. After the project ended at 11:30, the coordinator walked me back to the bus stop, where I was fortunate to immediately catch the bus back to Belo Horizonte (the wait for a bus on Sundays can seem eternal...).
Rather than going all the way home, I got off about halfway to go to house of friends from church to eat lunch and give an English class to the two sisters and one of their cousins. If I experienced the desire to take a Sunday nap when I lived in the U.S., the temptation is at least double here where the lunches are more substantial and the houses lack air conditioning. We managed to stay awake the whole afternoon and left to go to church at 6 something. Originally, I was thinking that I would not go to church on Sunday because I couldn't go in the morning, but then when I realized that it was Palm Sunday plus Communion Sunday, I resolved to go, even though that would mean another late-night arrival to my apartment. (It's funny how one's definition of "late-night" changes as one gets older...)
I was curious to see what the Brazilian Methodist Palm Sunday would look like, but other than having the choir sing and the dance group perform (neither of which happens every Sunday), there was no substantial difference. I'm not sure how much of that is the Brazilian Methodist way and how much is the style of the individual church.
Poetry in motion
It's interesting how popular poetry is here, across all social classes. I was surprised to hear about it twice on Saturday evening--first when the church custodian mentioned that she loved to write poetry and had a whole notebook filled with poems, and second when the aunt of the birthday girl read a poem during the special birthday worship service (and the person next to me mentioned that the aunt loves to compose poetry for every special occasion)--and again the very next day, when I saw a very moving booklet of poems written by the birthday girl herself.
By design
Another amazing form of creativity here is sewing. In the U.S., if you want to sew something, you go to the fabric store, look through the pattern books, buy a pattern and the material and cut them out to make the garment. Here, if you want to sew a garment (or more likely, have a garment sewn for you), you go to the fabric store, talk to them about what kind of garment you want, buy material, and they will draw a picture of the garment, which you can then take to the seamstress, who will design her own pattern (often in her head, without actually making a paper pattern), cut the material and sew the garment.
Can you see me now?
On Wednesday morning, I went to see an opthalmologist recommended by the optical shop close to my neighborhood. My glasses haven't been doing too well (lenses occasionally popping out) since I took a volleyball in the face in January, and I hadn't had a check-up in two years. As the guys at the optical shop said, she was super-friendly, even wanting to invite me to her church or to her home when she found out I was Protestant. I told her I had scheduled to visit the Palmital project on Sunday, and she said the next Sunday she would be traveling to visit her family in another state. We will see if she calls after Easter. I didn't expect to get my pupils dilated, and I left the office right before lunch unable to focus and blinded by the mid-day sun. Somehow, I managed to catch the right bus to get back to São Gabriel and take refuge from the sun.
My generation
Something quite enviable in Brazilian society is the almost complete lack of a generation gap. I think I've previously mentioned how you'll often see several generations of a family socializing together. I'm trying to study how this is achieved because it's definitely worth replicating.
Tent-making time
It's tent-making time again as I am almost out of savings from when I was able to work in the U.S. last year while waiting for my visa. I am sure that God will provide me with opportunities to "make tents" and use my skills to be able to raise some revenue. I was able to do one scientific translation last week, and might also eventually be teaching English lessons to that student. One particular focus right now is my next round-trip ticket between the U.S. and Brazil. I have the return trip from my last round-trip ticket scheduled to visit the U.S. at the end of June. I was planning to book a frequent-flyer ticket to return to Brazil at the end of July and come back to the U.S. to visit for Christmas, but that's not looking too likely at the moment. First, the airline dramatically increased the number of miles required for flying between the U.S. and Brazil. I asked my home church in the U.S. if anybody might be able to donate miles to me, and one friend will donate the maximum possible (15,000 miles). I could buy the remaining 5,000 miles required for the lowest-level frequent flyer ticket (60,000 miles), but when I looked at the online reservation system, I saw that the only seats available for going to Brazil in July are those requiring 100,000 miles (right now I just have 40,000). I was warned that because of school vacations in Brazil during the month of July, travel is difficult. So right now, the two options seem to be to wait for a fairy godmother to appear with a round-trip frequent-flyer ticket or to buy the next round-trip ticket with my credit card and hope that the money will arrive to eventually pay for it.
Ironies of the week
There are two for this week:
1. In the display case at a newsstand, I saw a DVD of Pope John Paul II right above the latest issue of Playboy magazine.
2. People seem to like to have small, grassy areas here both on public and private property, but lawnmowers are extremely rare. You will usually see people cutting them with weed-whackers.
I'll have to post some pictures tomorrow because I forgot the cable to download pictures from my camera.
I wish this was an April Fools joke, but it's not...
Imagine my surprise when I discovered this morning that my itchy scalp was not merely the result of sweating in the hot weather or, perhaps, dandruff, but rather, my very first lice infestation. Gross! Thankfully, I actually had some cash and a phone book and could call the pharmacy, who delivered the lotion and fine-tooth comb that the pharmacist recommended. (This is, of course, after I had to look up the Portuguese word for lice in the dictionary.) I'm kind of a queasy person, so I was barely able to extract the little buggers from my head without throwing up or passing out, but by the grace of God, I managed. I also made sure to call both of the projects where I work so they could check the kids. Apparently, head lice is even more common here than in the U.S. because of the tropical climate. When I arrived at São Gabriel and was joking with my colleagues about it, it seemed that everybody had experienced head lice at least once as a child. I also mentioned my bout with self-pity this morning that being single and living alone, it took me longer to realize what the problem was and that it was harder to treat because I can't see the parts of my head where the lice love to hang out--behind the ears and at the nape of the neck. My colleague, Fernanda, joked that she was thinking another option if I had a spouse would be to have someone to whom I could pass the lice and who could have a worse infestation than me. But nobody here has experienced it as an adult. I must be special (and perhaps lacking some immunity?)... In any case, I'm now paranoid and imagining that every slight itch, drip of sweat, etc. is a louse that I somehow missed in my hour with the fine-tooth comb this morning.
The weekend
This weekend was very busy and afforded little-to-no relaxation. Saturday I came to São Gabriel to finish editing the PowerPoint presentation and flyer for my supervisors to take with them on their month-long trip to the U.S. and also to take pictures of the Shade and Fresh Water training meeting. It was impressive that not only were the volunteer trainers for the Shade and Fresh Water program working on Saturday, but also the kitchen staff (who worked extra Friday night through Sunday afternoon to cook for the training); two of the teachers from the project who were preparing the background scenes for the Easter cantata; some young volunteers from a local college that were working on getting the computers in the computer lab in good working order; and my supervisors, who were getting ready to leave on their month-long trip the following morning. One of the teachers is even going to college at night now, and Saturday and Sunday are her only "free" days to study, clean, etc.
Saturday evening, I wanted to go home, but I'd been told about a birthday worship service/party for one of the teenagers in my church and ended up going to that. I was actually leaving São Gabriel around 7:00 and about to walk to the bus stop to catch the bus home when I ran into three young women from church walking to the party, so I figured it was a sign that I should go. It was a pretty good hike from the community center to the church, especially with my laptop in my backpack. Nobody told me it was for her 15th birthday (which, seen as a passage to adulthood, is a very big deal here), otherwise I would not have gone in my blue jeans. Although I was underdressed and hadn't showered that evening (unlike everybody else), nobody seemed to pay attention to my clothes or treat me any differently, which was nice. Before the event was over, one friend from church walked me to the nearby metro station to catch the last or next-to-last train home, and I arrived around 11:00 pm.
Sunday morning, I got up early to catch the bus to the neighboring town of Santa Luzia (~30 minute ride) to visit a Shade and Fresh Water project that only meets on Sundays in the Palmital neighborhood. Thankfully, the coordinator was at the bus stop to meet me, and he walked me around the town a little to see the fair that was in the town center. In some ways it resembled a smaller version of the "producer's" or "hippie" fair that they have every Sunday morning in downtown Belo Horizonte. One major difference that this fair sold a lot of used things (electronics, plumbing and hardware supplies, etc.) in addition to produce, new clothes and jewelry. On my journey to that neighborhood, I'd noticed several people with various types of plants in their hands, and finally it hit me that it was Palm Sunday.
In theory the project starts at 9:00, but it takes a little while for the majority of the kids to wander in. I took lots of pictures of the kids, their various activities and their modest facilities. They meet on a property abandoned by the school system, and there's a lot of possibility for structural improvement (crumbling walls, missing windows, etc.). There are no kitchen facilities, and only one room has electricity, so the volunteers had to prepare the snacks for the kids at their homes and transport them to the project. After the project ended at 11:30, the coordinator walked me back to the bus stop, where I was fortunate to immediately catch the bus back to Belo Horizonte (the wait for a bus on Sundays can seem eternal...).
Rather than going all the way home, I got off about halfway to go to house of friends from church to eat lunch and give an English class to the two sisters and one of their cousins. If I experienced the desire to take a Sunday nap when I lived in the U.S., the temptation is at least double here where the lunches are more substantial and the houses lack air conditioning. We managed to stay awake the whole afternoon and left to go to church at 6 something. Originally, I was thinking that I would not go to church on Sunday because I couldn't go in the morning, but then when I realized that it was Palm Sunday plus Communion Sunday, I resolved to go, even though that would mean another late-night arrival to my apartment. (It's funny how one's definition of "late-night" changes as one gets older...)
I was curious to see what the Brazilian Methodist Palm Sunday would look like, but other than having the choir sing and the dance group perform (neither of which happens every Sunday), there was no substantial difference. I'm not sure how much of that is the Brazilian Methodist way and how much is the style of the individual church.
Poetry in motion
It's interesting how popular poetry is here, across all social classes. I was surprised to hear about it twice on Saturday evening--first when the church custodian mentioned that she loved to write poetry and had a whole notebook filled with poems, and second when the aunt of the birthday girl read a poem during the special birthday worship service (and the person next to me mentioned that the aunt loves to compose poetry for every special occasion)--and again the very next day, when I saw a very moving booklet of poems written by the birthday girl herself.
By design
Another amazing form of creativity here is sewing. In the U.S., if you want to sew something, you go to the fabric store, look through the pattern books, buy a pattern and the material and cut them out to make the garment. Here, if you want to sew a garment (or more likely, have a garment sewn for you), you go to the fabric store, talk to them about what kind of garment you want, buy material, and they will draw a picture of the garment, which you can then take to the seamstress, who will design her own pattern (often in her head, without actually making a paper pattern), cut the material and sew the garment.
Can you see me now?
On Wednesday morning, I went to see an opthalmologist recommended by the optical shop close to my neighborhood. My glasses haven't been doing too well (lenses occasionally popping out) since I took a volleyball in the face in January, and I hadn't had a check-up in two years. As the guys at the optical shop said, she was super-friendly, even wanting to invite me to her church or to her home when she found out I was Protestant. I told her I had scheduled to visit the Palmital project on Sunday, and she said the next Sunday she would be traveling to visit her family in another state. We will see if she calls after Easter. I didn't expect to get my pupils dilated, and I left the office right before lunch unable to focus and blinded by the mid-day sun. Somehow, I managed to catch the right bus to get back to São Gabriel and take refuge from the sun.
My generation
Something quite enviable in Brazilian society is the almost complete lack of a generation gap. I think I've previously mentioned how you'll often see several generations of a family socializing together. I'm trying to study how this is achieved because it's definitely worth replicating.
Tent-making time
It's tent-making time again as I am almost out of savings from when I was able to work in the U.S. last year while waiting for my visa. I am sure that God will provide me with opportunities to "make tents" and use my skills to be able to raise some revenue. I was able to do one scientific translation last week, and might also eventually be teaching English lessons to that student. One particular focus right now is my next round-trip ticket between the U.S. and Brazil. I have the return trip from my last round-trip ticket scheduled to visit the U.S. at the end of June. I was planning to book a frequent-flyer ticket to return to Brazil at the end of July and come back to the U.S. to visit for Christmas, but that's not looking too likely at the moment. First, the airline dramatically increased the number of miles required for flying between the U.S. and Brazil. I asked my home church in the U.S. if anybody might be able to donate miles to me, and one friend will donate the maximum possible (15,000 miles). I could buy the remaining 5,000 miles required for the lowest-level frequent flyer ticket (60,000 miles), but when I looked at the online reservation system, I saw that the only seats available for going to Brazil in July are those requiring 100,000 miles (right now I just have 40,000). I was warned that because of school vacations in Brazil during the month of July, travel is difficult. So right now, the two options seem to be to wait for a fairy godmother to appear with a round-trip frequent-flyer ticket or to buy the next round-trip ticket with my credit card and hope that the money will arrive to eventually pay for it.
Ironies of the week
There are two for this week:
1. In the display case at a newsstand, I saw a DVD of Pope John Paul II right above the latest issue of Playboy magazine.
2. People seem to like to have small, grassy areas here both on public and private property, but lawnmowers are extremely rare. You will usually see people cutting them with weed-whackers.
I'll have to post some pictures tomorrow because I forgot the cable to download pictures from my camera.
posted by Christine Piggee at
12:56 PM
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