Amy in Brazil

It ’s been several weeks now since my last post, and, for those of you who I particularly told that I’d try to update more regularly, I apologize. I can only blame clutter–I’ve been caught in it and among it, created it and thrived upon it. So, here is an update on the clutter in my life.

Work. Work is good, but it is definitely work. With six different classes to prepare for daily, I feel like I am always planning and that I am always just a little behind somehow. And the paperwork has been piling up bit by bit–no matter how much I try to stay on top of the grading, it always seems to get the better of me. I have a stack of papers home with me this weekend (something I generally avoid as I often carry back on Monday an identical stack to the one I carried home on Friday–identical meaning sans marks be they red or blue or aquamarine), but progress reports will be printed this Monday. So says my lead teacher and the school’s new director. There is no more time for procrastination; I simply must grade.

In addition to planning for my classes and grading, I am on the school’s Week Without Walls Committee. Week Without Walls is a big event each spring–students have the opportunity to go on field trips and take learning outside of the classroom (hence the cool and catchy name). As part of the committee this year, I am helping to organize/coordinate three trips for the 6 – 12th graders. One is a trip to London & Paris (this one is my baby, and I am the ringleader of my own little dream-trip-circus in the planning), another is a trip to Goiania & Caldas Novas which are in central Brazil, and the third is a series of day-trips around Rio. The goal is to prepare three student options at appropriately differentiated levels of affordability that will all be interesting & beneficial for the students who take part. And they need to be planned, approved, and presented to the parents before October so that families can budget as necessary. Quite a lot of work, but fun because, well, because field trips and travel are fun.

I attended my first Brazilian soccer (aka football) game this Wednesday night. It started at 9:45 PM, and it was in the biggest stadium that I think I’ve ever been inside in my life (80,000 maybe). Unfortunately, it was a tie game, and, since it wasn’t a final, there wasn’t even a shoot-out (is that what they call it? I am so ignorant about soccer–it’s the one sport that I really feel that I don’t understand). The Brazilian fans grew quite disgusted with their own team because, according to them, the game should have been an easy victory. By the end of the match, they were booing their own coach and players and cheering whenever Bolivia was moving the ball offensively. It was an educational experience into the Brazilian psyche, to be sure, and it was a great time. At the end of which I bought a cheap jersey imitation from a sidewalk vendor, caught a bus home with my friends, and called it a good night.

Speaking of the buses, I don’t know if I’ve really praised them enough here in my blog or elsewhere. Most of you (or at least some of you) probably already know how much I love the idea of public transportation–I missed it hugely after moving from Chicago to New Mexico–and that adoration hasn’t faded now that I’m back to using mass transit as my primary means of transport after walking. And Rio has a pretty reliable network of buses and two fine (though sadly unextensive) underground metro lines. Granted, you’ll never see a map or a schedule–I’m told that they are available online, but (1) where’s the adventure in that? and (2) I don’t read enough Portuguese to navigate their website. Generally, I just ask the bus driver in baby Portuguese whether or not he’s stopping where I want to go. I’ve only gotten on the wrong bus a handful of times, and that, in and of itself, is just an added adventure….

Is public transit safe in Rio? You’d be surprised how many natives of Rio (Cariocas) would warn against it. But over 70% of them us it daily. Don’t worry, Mom; I’m always as safe as I possibly can be. But, you know me, I’ve just got to get out and be a part of the city that is my current hometown. (This is where I might include the anecdote of getting on a bus two weekends ago on the way to a book club meeting with some girlfriends right after the bus driver on it had intimidated a would be robber to into exiting it (rare because usually the bus drivers don’t interfere), but that might really make my parents nervous.

 The book club meets again this Wednesday night to discuss Amy Tan’s Saving Fish from Drowning. I’m only on page 119, and I have to make it to page 801 (not quite as bad as it sounds as my copy is a large print edition that I found on sale in a bargain bin in the States this summer–seriously, there are maybe 100 words per page). So in addition to grading tomorrow, there will be reading. Much, much reading. Hopefully, I’ll find the time to finish by Wednesday night…. Normally, our book group doesn’t meet quite so often, but one of the women that comes is moving back to the US to get married in a couple of weeks. And we wanted to include her… I’ll let you know if the book is any good when I finish it.

I’ve joined the worship team at my English-speaking church. I think I might actually be on the rotation for this Sunday morning; need to check that when I’m done updating. And the Mosaico church plant where I’ve been attending continues to be a family to me, though it has been a bit hectic lately with people doing lots of traveling and illnesses and what-not. It could use your prayers.

Ok. I think that is all I’ve got energy for at the moment. I did warn you at the beginning of all of this that it was clutter… But, I think, if you’ll indulge me, I’ll finish off with a little stream-of-conciousness writing piece that I penned down during one of my classes the other day. I gave all of my English classes 5 minutes of continuous stream-of-conciousness writing as their in-class writing assignment–I told them to write and to listen, to listen and to write, to follow their thoughts wherever they led, and, heaven forbid, not to premeditate anything–and finally, during my last class of the day I joined them. Now, before I post it, let me confess that I’ve been writing far less frequently than I used to since before my failed MFA applications–rejections have a funny way of humbling even the most pretentious of scribblers–but suddenly the time feels right to brush off my artistic confidence and try again. So here it is in it’s un-revised glory; five minutes of thoughts from my classroom:

Lots of laughter. A snarl. Is this really so difficult? The AC is rattling again. I should close the window. Is that a heliocopter? I wonder where he’s headed in the middle of the day, and I wonder what Wolfgang’s laughing at. A slamming door. The distant murmur of voices. Are any of those voices posing real questions, or are their words as indistinct to them as they are to me? Something fell. Another heliocopter. Disaster? Rescue? Or maybe the news? Another beautiful day in Rio but not for everyone. A child is shouting, “Ernesto,” and a third heliocopter passes by. Will the child witness it in wonder? Or will it be ignored? Background noise? Just part of the ho-hum of everyday life?

Gosh, that looks silly just sitting there. But, like I said, it felt good to write anything. Natural, even. Who knows, I might even try poetry again. I’ll keep you posted. But now, it is definitely time for bed. Well, teethbrushing first, and then bed. My thoughts and prayers go out for you all tonight (especially to those of you in literal or metaphorical hurricanes–you know who you are).

From the joyfilled chaos of clutter,

Amy

And he called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all the demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal.   Luke 9: 1 – 2