Note: I returned Nov. 7 from nearly two weeks on a medical missions boat in Brazil with the Central Brazil Mission. Before departing, I prayed that I’d have the time, energy, and opportunity to write about the trip—and then I was invited to be the diarist for the journey. Because I had no Internet access, I’ll post the entries here, one per day. They’re unedited, just as they appeared when I finished them each evening.
Wed. Oct. 29
On her perch behind the captain’s wheel, the dancing hula gal, the kind you’d find on a dashboard, wiggled her hips. The boat’s gentle movements in the water were otherwise imperceptible to my eyes. Later, waves crashed ashore, rocking the boat more than usual. I at first thought the cause must have been the tanker visible up the river, but the ship was perhaps too far away compared to the immediacy of the waves. A passenger ship, perhaps….
After finishing with additional patients this morning, we left the first village around noon and headed up river for the second village, a voyage of less than an hour. A number of us manned the hammocks in the heat of the day. Despite the shade on the top deck, the heat was stifling, scorching. Hotter, I think, than yesterday. I said “calor” to some of the Brazilians, who laughed at me.
As we tied up to the shore, I went up to look around, helping Claudia and Café with the table and chairs. I was intrigued by the community’s layout, with its differences compared to the first town. A well-worn footpath led through the trees, some of which were mango, toward the river and its crusted mud-and-dirt banks. For residents, especially the mothers clutching babies, the trek was slow-going.
In the trees above, birds squawked away, and I thought, “This is what I expected a jungle to sound like.” Tonight, in just a few minutes, we’ll pull out our flashlights and, covered in mosquito repellent, we’ll walk into the community for a church service. Earlier, in the waiting area, I believe I spoke with the pastor—who, despite my smiles and shrugs of not understanding him, would come up with a new line of inquiry and began jabbering away once again. I liked him immediately.
Other distractions of the day: It now appears that we won’t be able to view the Royals’ World Series game seven tonight, despite some positive inklings earlier in the day. Should KC win, I will miss it, capturing a few text updates here and there, and I will be forlorn, left out, stranded on the equator without internet reception. Should they lose, with the Giants’ Bumgarner coming in the middle innings to suffocate the Royals’ offense, leading to yet another series title for the Giants (they’ve had their fill, haven’t they?), I will be glad I missed it. … Or perhaps I ought to remember that I have things to do here that don’t revolve around fandom.
Other distractions: The inability to stand up straight inside the boat is causing all sorts of stiffness in my neck and upper shoulders. The ceilings brush my hair when I stand up straight, except where they’re lower by several inches, and the light fixtures are constant threats. Three times in two days I’ve hit my head—once on an AC unit and twice on door frames, which are at eye level. C’est la vie.
upwardfit 