Brazil: a day of fellowship

Today being Sunday, Felippe invited us to attend his ward, in the town of Itaboraí, about 50 km to the east of Rio.  We were going to just take the bus, but he and his father, Wilson, insisted on meeting us downtown and driving us over, about a 45 minute drive.  Today also being Brazil's Independence day, we saw many tanks and military police standing about, preparing for the Independence Day Demonstration (I didn't get to see it, so I don't know if it could qualify as a "parade").

Their ward had Relief Society/Priesthood first, so I went with Felippe's mother to RS.  As she didn't speak English and I didn't understand her Portuguese, all I could do was shake my head in apology and say "Eu não entendo."  After the lesson started, it was all moot.  The lesson, via my keen understanding of RS visual aides, was about food storage.  In Sunday School (in the "Escola por membros antigos" or "school for ancient members" - a.k.a. Gospel Doctrine) James translated much of what was being said.  We discussed the Saints in the Americas circa the birth of Christ.

The third hour was, of course, Sacrament Meeting, which took place in the beautiful and air conditioned (!!) chapel.  It being fast Sunday, James was kind and patient enough with me to give me the gist of most of the testimonies, with a line-by-line translation of Felippe's testimony.

We met many members, one of whom happened to be wearing one of James's old ties, handed from James to Felippe to Sérgio.  Good ol' missionary ties!  We also met the ward mission leader, Jorge, who was planning a baptism and asked us if we'd be willing to sing a hymn in English during the "waiting for the new member to get dried off" intermission.  As we didn't have an English hymnal, I quickly jotted down the words to "Lead Kindly Light" and we made out pretty well.  I only had to make up a couple of lines that I couldn't remember, and I don't think anyone noticed.

After the baptism, we piled into the back of Wilson's station wagon with Jorge and his wife, while Felippe rode shotgun to another member's house for a barbecue.  Also joining the party (but not in the car - it was already stuffed beyond seatbelt capacity) were Russell, an American, his wife Gabriella, a Brazilian, and our host, Fernando, and his wife and little girl, Cíntia and Maria Fernanda, and later Cíntia's sister, Lauren.  Quite a party for a little apartment! 

Most of the party at Fernando's house

We sat around the table feasting on all sorts of barbecued meat (pork, beef, chicken, linguiça sausage, and chicken hearts), rice, Brazilian pico de gallo, soda, and a unique (but good!) potato salad consisting of potatoes, carrots, mayo, green olives, and raisins.  I had more than two helpings (albeit small helpings).

Brazilian meat tastes so good!

The spread. The meat tricked in throughout the meal.

Silly boys.

But the coup de grace would have to be dessert.  Fernando threw some bananas on the grill, still in their peels, and Lauren then extracted the cooked fruit and sprinkled it with cinnamon-sugar before adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream with chocolate flakes.  Ambrosia!  I took a risk on appearing rude and accepted seconds.  Yum!

Sweet heaven.

We sat around Fernando and Cíntia's apartment, visiting and sharing stories from one until around 6:30 in the evening, when Jorge had to go to work, so Fernando took James, myself and Felippe to Felippe's house so that Wilson (who hadn't attended the barbecue) could drive us back into town.

We ended up not going immediately back into town, but were entertained by Felippe and his father for several hours.  We were given a tour of their very nice house, including a great fruit orchard (and a sick guard dog) and a coconut tree, which Wilson instructed Felippe to pick some coconuts from so they could treat us to the tasty liquid inside.  We visited (well, I mostly sat quietly and got the occasional interpretation, but that was fine) late into the night, until Felippe's mother Fatima came home with banana bread for all.  

Felippe handing off a coconut for drinking.

Felippe, Wilson, Fatima, me, James

As it was after ten by this point, Wilson offered to let us stay over, but since we hadn't brought our toothbrushes (or more importantly, James's contact case), we politely declined and then felt guilty as they all piled into the car with us for the hour drive back to our apartment, but Wilson insisted on driving us.  They dropped us off at around midnight, and then made their way back home, probably to wake up early the next day for work.  I'm honestly amazed and awed by the generosity and hospitality of these people, both Felippe's family, as well as Fernando's.  What a blessing to have met such good friends, even if we don't (as of yet) speak the same language!

A beautiful painting of the São Paulo temple hanging 

in the dining room of the Forte residence.

The closest temple to them is a six hour drive, which makes 

me feel guilty for not attending the Portland Temple as often.

Latter-Day Prophets

So, Channing led the Primary in "Latter-Day Prophets" for the opening song last Sunday, ending with "Gordon B. Hinkley leads today, we hear and honor his word today" or something (I'm still tempted to end with Spencer W. Kimball). After the song, Channing asked, "And who is our prophet today?" and Ruby replied, "Gordon B. Hinkley." I didn't think anything of it at the time.

Then, Sunday night around 8:45, James logs onto the internet and says, "Oh, President Hinkley died," and I felt a big chunk of my adolescence break off and fall into the past. President Hinkley was called to be the prophet (of the LDS church) when I was almost 15, and I kinda feel like much of my testimony of "latter-day prophets" was based on seeing him and his strength as a prophet. I really have a testimony that he was called of God to lead us in these days. I remember seeing him at a Mormon Tabernacle Choir concert when James and I were living in Utah the year before we got married. We saw Sister Hinkley and some of their grandchildren sitting near the front, and the everyone started to stand as the Prophet of the Lord came in to sit with hi wife. We saw Sister Hinkley chiding her husband for "ruining their 'girls night out.'" What a cute couple. I'm glad that he's able to be with her again, but I shall miss him as our leader.

Although as a child I often looked forward to hearing President Monson's Conference talks, it was more because he told good stories than anything concerning his leadership abilities. Of course, now that I begin to reflect further back, I recall not feeling very confident in President Hinkley's leadership abilities back in the days of President Benson (President Hunter's time as prophet was too short for much reflection), but I soon learned to love and follow him. Perhaps the same shall be the case for President Monson. The Lord has invited us to ask for confirmation of things such as this, and I have plenty of time before he gets called in April to do just that.

Busy season!

On spacers:

So I'm getting braces in the near future to complete the orthodontia my parents started when I was in gradeschool. Because of the almost-twenty-year hiatus, I get to have four teeth pulled before the application of the hardware, but more on that later. The event that has eclipsed my entire weekend has been the SPACERS that I was instructed to put between my teeth prior to getting other teeth pulled. For those of you fortunate enough to be happy with the teeth you grew naturally, I shall explain. Spacers (at least my generation of spacers, James had a different kind as a kid) are llittle plastic donuts that sit between your molars and your molar and pre-molar, to make room for the caps that will later serve as anchors for the braces. They seem so small, but have managed to become a source of almost-invisible torture for the last three days. It hurts to chew, it hurts to sit and hold my teeth slightly apart, it hurts to press my teeth together (although I think I'm clenching at night due to the new sensation), and I find myself relying on carefully doled out half tablets of Vicodin left over from a dimly remembered back spasm. I keep thinking to myself, "this, too, shall pass...probably about the time I get four teeth pulled out of my head and really have an excuse for Vicodin...and then I get braces put on and tightened every 4-6 weeks...well, at least I'll lose some weight since I can only eat applesauce painlessly, which is fat free..." And I exaggerate. I can also eat ice cream and pancakes painlessly, which are not fat free. And due to the super-busy social nature of this last weekend, I have suffered the pain of firmer foods for the gustatory pleasure they impart. Viva la Vicodin!

Speaking of the busy weekend...

This is the first December that James hasn't worked at the hotel, and therefore the first December that he has weekends off. So of course, we've managed to fill every second of every day that he has off this Christmas Season with stuff to do. This last weekend was the epitome of busy Christmas weekends:

Birthday Party #1:
We started by planning and coordinating a surprise 60th birthday party for Dad on Friday night. We all met at the Italian restaurant near their house, complete with balloons and a joint gift of a fancy saw/drill that Dustin claims is "the best" from all of the local kids (didn't have time or energy to pull the Texas kids in on the deal). Dad was delighted, especially when the roaming accordian player (oh yes, that kind of Italian restaurant!) played him Happy Birthday in English and Italian, as well as several other Italian songs and The Beatles "When I'm Sixty-Four." Mom fed Oscar a whole scoop of ice cream and he went ape-crazy with the sugar high.

Shopping, shopping, shopping:
Saturday morning, James cleaned the house while I did some errands, including getting the oil changed in the car and the final stuff for our Sunday School Christmas Cookie Party (more on that later). I had just enough time to run downtown to Powell's book store (Non-Portlanders: a must-see when you visit, wonderful place) to get an EKG textbook for next term and mom's Christmas present (tsk-tsk, no peeking!), but underestimated the meter time, so I had to run to get to my car before the approaching meter-man got there (I could see him coming!). And I tripped and did a face plant right there on the sidewalk. I also scraped the corners of my two books, which is sad because they don't heal as well as I do. But I didn't get a parking ticket!!

Christmas Party #1:
So we decided to throw an end-of-the-year Cookie Party for our 5-6 year-old Sunday School kids, since they'll be getting a new teacher next year, and we'll be getting new kids (they look so young!). All five showed up and good-natured chaos ensued. With myself at the rolling-pin-helm, we rolled out the sugar cookie dough, cut shapes, put slightly misshapen/finger-smudged cookies on trays and baked them. Then out came the frosting, in seven toothpaste-tube-like vessels, and the real fun began. I manned the kitchen at this point, keeping up the blank cookie demand, and James helped direct the artistic side at the table. Soon everyone had enough cookies to share with their family, after eating some on the way. Since we still had 45 minutes of our two hour window before parents came back, we pulled out the glitter and glue sticks and make Christmas Cards and a big glitter mess, but it was fun. We rounded off the party with more cookies for some and a game of Uno for others. They're great kids, and James and I will miss having them in our class.

Birthday Party #2:
We got the glitter and cookie crumbs vacuumed up. This was the last straw for poor Hamlet, who had already put up with a morning vacuuming pre-party and then five curious children, and we had to spend several minutes reassuring him that the house was once more safe for kitty-kind. After a short rest, we made our way over to Aubrey's house for Oscar's 1st birthday party. We came, we ate, we sang, and we left. It was a short jaunt to show familial support and love, but we reallllllly wanted to see the Christmas Revels, which James's friend Nathan was assistant director of this year.

Christmas Performance #2 (after last weekend's Coats concert)
So we dashed downtown and met Nathan outside the buiding. He directed us to the floor manager ("Attacus, in the banana-yellow jacket") who scored us primo seats on the aisle, row G. Apparently, the Christmas Revels is an organized production put on in several cities across the country, which revives the music and Christmas/Winter Solstice tratitions of the Middle Ages. Just like last year, when Nathan was in a starring role, the performance was wonderful. There was singing, audience participation and singing, beautiful dancing, and a plot, which is apparently unique to Portland's Christmas Revels. We got to sing along to a few songs, including one famililar song, the 12 Days of Christmas, in which James was invited to act out the role of "Seven Swans a Swimming." We went home exhausted, but filled with Christmas cheer.

Christmas Party #2:
Sunday morning dawned and we relaxed for the first half of the day, watching the Steelers lose to the Jacksonville Jaguars (much to James's dismay), and planning our lesson for Sunday School (The Golden Rule). Then we got dressed up and made an appearance at James's work Christmas Party. I got to meet his boss, his boss's boss, and their wives, as well as some of his coworkers and eat some scrumptious food (I even braved the crunchy chips because the dip was so tasty). We dashed out before people started getting drunk (now I'll never know) to make it to church on time. The lesson was a success, and we went home to change for...

Birthday Party #3:
yet another family gathering, this time the re-scheduled celebration of Jared's graduation/birthday (he had the flu for the original time slot). There was plenty of fruit and cheescake to satisfy my aching teeth (and aching belly), and lots of good conversation and socialization. Jared felt very celebrated. James and I got him a Bar Mitzvah card (when else will we ever be able to give one of those?) and mom's card sand "Kung Fu Fighting," much to Oscar's fascination.

After a weekend like that, I have to admit that I love Christmas time, but I can really only hadle it once a year!