Close Your Eyes and Exist

Close your eyes (after reading this paragraph) and ponder if the world around you... the computer screen, your coffee cup, and even your body...still exists. Unless the world around you consists of illegal substances, open permanent markers, or hallucinogenic toads, I think the answer you will find is YES... the world continues to exist even with eyes lids shut. 

The reason this tidbit from my first semester of philosophy comes back to me is because this week has inspired me to make a technological tweak to the idea. If Facebook, blogs, email, ichat, AOL, and Skype are our online selves - our means of seeing others and our means of being seen - and we stop facebooking, blogging, emailing, ichatting, IMing, or skyping, do we then cease to exist to the world? Has our Ethernet connected, collective consciousness somehow become more real to us than the world we find behind our eye lids? I think the answer might be YES - if you don't believe me just turn off you cell phone and stop email for the next 24 hours. I think you'll find you might actually feel invisible. No longer is the question "Does the world exist if i close my eyes?"...The question is now "Will I exist if i close my online eye?" My absence from the blog for the past 2 weeks has caused some of you to wonder if I have indeed vanished from existence. Thankfully, I have not...living in a place where the internet is a 10 minute a day luxury I have discovered that you will continue living even if you unplug. However, you will experience symptoms of withdraw. For example, I have absolutely no memory of how to write in cursive, and I am bewildered by the encyclopedias here in Brazil...I look at them and see a shelf-full of stone tablets covered with pictures of cavemen. 

So the problem with actively blogging life here in Brazil...turns out to be life here in Brazil. The thought of posting a blog post has fleetingly flashed through my mind the last few weeks, but every time the thought arises Everton jumps on my back or Gisi starts crying - or both (x15)

Here are some antidotes and updates from the past few weeks...

The Machines Are Taking Over. 

In one 4 day period, it seemed that all of the machines around me were staging a cue. 

Two weekends ago, I was dropping the workers off in the poorer section of the colony, and I ran out of gas right in the middle of a one lane dirt road. It was a sunny Saturday and the whole neighborhood was out to watch the Americano's stupidity. I pushed the van to the side of the dirty road (into a dirt yard), and began considering my options. Walk a mile home or walk a mile to the gas station...then a passing car stopped. A tall German man with a belly almost larger than his belt buckle moseyed my direction. Luckily, love actually is all around. Before I could even sputter, "Des-cupe, Eu somente falo un poc portuguese", the man started syphoning gas from is tank into a two liter. Afterwards, I shook his hand like a fool and shoved 5 reals at him. The next day, I drove Romalo to a party and got a flat tire in Mary's car. (important life lessons - car jack's are different here, but kicking a tire out of frustration has the same effect)

After the cars attacked, then the computers took up the fight. I have become the Go-To computer guy for CLM  (when Jack isn't around) because I mentioned I used to work with computers. Most of the time, I just restart the routers or wiggle the ethernet wires, but to the kids I am like the computer whisperer. This reputation feels great until a real problem arises...we were mysteriously without internet for about a week and nothing in my bag of tricks could bring the internet back. In about an hour, I knew the problem was beyond me (and i admitted as much to everyone) but ever passing day, 35 anxious faces would stare at me and ask, "Internech Bom hoje, Pat-reek-e?". I would shrug and watch their hopeful faces contort into disgust. Even the adults seemed convinced that the router just wanted more attention from me...like it was my pissed off girlfriend. In the end, professional help arrived. They whispered some voodoo into the router and poof - internet. 

I have more machine horror stories...but I leave you with this last one as the climax of a bad week. I am currently in the process of cutting and plaining boards of a new swing set at Turvo. Our plainer is beast of a machine that can slice a quarter-of-an-inch right off the top of a board. However, the plainer is all muscle - not user-friendly. Every board requires, teeth clenched grunts of manual strength to force it through. One day, after several frustrating stuck boards, I went to move this 400 pound box of metal. Instead of wiggling the machine slowly, I shoved quickly -tipping the machine over - where it landed, motor first, on top of my left foot. I did two laps around the shop before I stopped to assess the damage - my foot was bruised, along with my work ethic - and the stupid machine wasn't even scratched.   

Movies like Terminator, the Matrix, and War Games make us believe that machines will eventually destroy humanity in an explosive revolt. However if the super computers of the future are really smart, they won't create killer robots to destroy mankind. They will simply stop working and watch us wither way like pants without water. Can you imagine if all machines went on strike? Hmmm - the whole world would get to sleep in - but after that it would suck. 

Goodbye, Fair Well, I hate to say Tchau.

A lot of good byes have been said (and not said) the past few weeks. Mike and Mary have been on vacation in the States - thankfully they return tomorrow. Altair ran away and he has not been heard from since. A week later Elaine, our oldest girl at 19, was asked to leave CLM. She has had problems with violent outbursts, lying, and disrespect. I am not clear on the details of the straw the finally broke the CLM back - but it had something to do with lying and seeking out to a party. She was gone before I even made to the house for breakfast...Sneaking out to a party made me think about myself at 19 and all the parties I lied about not going to...it made me appreciate and marvel at the exhausting amount of grace my parents endured for me. Some of use learn the hard way...I think Elaine - like me - is one of those people.

Today, I learned that Marcello is being adapted and will be leaving on Friday. His new Mom (or Moms) are here today in a very strange and fast transition period. They sorta lottery around the house like people looking at animals in a zoo. Marcello is shutdown around them...shy is not the word of it...its more like the emotional fetal position. Mary does most the talking for him and he just nods when prompted. This is how the system the works...the courts make the ruling and 72 hours later the package is delivered to the new owners. The most interesting thing about Marcello's adaption is the reaction of all the other kids. They stare at these women just like the women stare at them - bewildered. I can't tell if they are secretly wishing it was them being adapted...or if they are afraid it might be them next...or if it a whole tornado of emotions are manifesting in blank stares, giggling stares, defensive stares, and longing stares. 

Next week, my Hungarian counterpart, David, returns home. This will be a sad day because David has a great "big furry bear" personality and set of grand facial expressions that render language unnecessary. The day after David leaves will be an even sadder day because all of the work that we now share will be unshared back to me. Driving in the morning, driving the workers, driving the kids, dishes, repairs, picking corn, boys' showers, preparing dinner, and helping with bed time...I am tired just thinking about it. 

A few weeks after David returns home, Edit(our nurse) and her husband Fabio will be leaving for Hungary also.  At the end of this month, Juan and Bethany and baby Caleb are taking their vacation in the States. Of all the things I anticipated being challenged by at CLM, people (other than me) leaving is not one of them. I find myself feeling more and more entrenched here as I see people come and go. Ever time, some one leaves (child or adult) the whole houses flexes and adjusts with the work and the emotion - eventually, we settle into a happy routine but I am beginning to feel like our kids must feel...that the normal routine is people leaving...people staying in their lives (and now mine) is abnormal. This feeling eventually leads me to picture my own departure and the flexing and adjusting that I will cause in the house and in the lives of each of these kids. I am looking forward to watching how David handles his last week here and how the kids handle the week after he leaves...perhaps I can learn some lesson in his departure to soften the blow of my own. 

David Beckham going to pick corn with a kiss on the cheek. 

Life here the past few weeks has not been as heavy and depressing as my blogs may read. I have had so many happy moments, silly moments, perfect memories, and wonderful gifts that I forget most of them now that I want to document their wonder. The thing is... imagine that the cutest kid you know - child, grandchild, niece, whoever - imagine that child does or says something heart-meltingly cute...now imagine that happening 20 times a day. I am like a cute addict....I started shooting up with a normal dose when i arrived, but now I need 12 needles full of cute just to get my daily fix. 

I have come to love the custom of kissing on the cheek when meeting or leaving a friend. Really only a few of the girls do this...the boys express their affection through karate kicks and punches to the shoulder in stead. The older girls would be mortified to greet with kiss - me too actually. However, Rita(10), Luana(7), and Marione(4) have started giving me a daily little pecks on the cheek when ever i have to leave them. Rita is our 10 year old know-it-all...She is a tough girl, and I like her strong willed nature - even if it can be annoying. One morning, I had to shout Rita into her seat as I drove the kids to school. I never yell and it scared me as much as it scared them. Rita sat solemnly in the back seat of the van for the rest of the drive. I watched her from the rear view mirror as she fought tears back.  She waited in the van till all the other kids exited and then Rita climbed over the backs of the seats just so she could kiss me on the cheek and I could give her my normal morning pep talk - "Apprendar Muito" (learn alot). So much was communicated in this simple gesture...her tears were gone - on the way home, I reflected on my yelling and her kiss and now as i reflect again i realize I am the one learning a lot. 

A few weekends ago, we celebrated the anniversary of the church with a BBQ and a huge soccer game - the biggest we have had yet. There were a lot of good players at the house and the game very quickly became a spectacle for everyone to watch. I have been a novelty around the colony since arriving - like a sideshow freak "Come one. come all. and see the amazing futebol playing american!" However, on this day - I happened to play extremely well. The key to soccer here in Brazil is not trying to score goals, but trying to be spectacular. I did my best Cristino Ronaldo imitation in the corner right in-front of the crowd, which earned me roar of "Ole". After the game, everyone including the pastor of the church started referring to me as David Beckham. This is probably because I am the only player with blonde hair and blue eyes - but either way being compared to Beckham isn't a bad thing - better than Americano Punto, which is my other nickname here on the pitch. 

My last joyful adventure involves the adolescent joy of picking corn and throwing it at other people. The past two week the boys and I have been taking the tractor into the fields and picking corn by hand to use as feed on the farm. The view out the endless fields is breath taking...The yellows of the fields compliment the blue sky and although it is cold - i feel warm. The best part of this boring job is watch 8 adolescent boys launch cornels and ears of corn at each other in full on trench warfare. It takes me back to fall weekends in high school and the corning warefar of Dover/Phila week. I don't know why - but throwing corn at people is an international joy. Unfortunently, I am normally the main the target...but I know the boys throwing corn at my head is their kiss on the cheek. 

grace and peace to you all. good night. gerbs.