A favela near Steve's apartment in Gloria

A guitar player in Lapa.

During the first year of Project Brasil, Steve sent newsletters to family and friends.
We're posting those here so you can follow the progress of this ministry. 

OCTOBER 18, 2004

Hello everyone, 

Since I am changing hotels and will have limited internet access for the next few days, I thought I would send a note to everyone this morning bringing you up to date on what I'm doing here.

I'm here to start an English school, and I also want to establish a computer lab. (The two skills most needed for upward mobility here are English skills and computer skills.) One problem is that computers are very expensive here -- much more than in the USA. It has something to do with tariffs and import/export policies and taxes and so on. The bottom line is that computers cost about twice what they do in the states, so having a personal computer at home is something of a luxury.

This project is something of a moving target, so I am forced to be flexible and make some changes as I go along. Some of my original plans didn't pan out, and I'm back to square one on a couple of things. I do have two excellent volunteer teachers ready to go, but there are other aspects of the work yet to be established. For example, where will the school be? I'll know soon; there are tons of places where this kind of work is needed.

Last night I attended a Methodist Church in Catete, a neighborhood of Rio. It was packed with about 350 people. The sanctuary looked very traditional, very Methodist, but the service was contemporary. Great band. (keyboard, drum, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, bass, and saxophone/flute.) The worship leader looks like Harry Belafonte, and like most worship leaders, he talked too much; apparently this is not an exclusively American problem. Among the songs we sang were In the Secret and Tu Es Fiel, Senhor (Great Is Thy Faithfulness). It was beautiful singing this hymn (one of my favorites) in this church with the windows open and the breeze blowing in (more about the "breeze" later). I felt a connection to the whole congregation—people who live in conditions much different than my own (economically), but on a deeper level their lives are like mine—they're just trying to know God, trying to experience his presence each day, and and trying to learn to trust in his faithfulness.

A SIGN FROM ABOVE
A funny thing happened on the way to church Sunday morning. It was an unusually windy day. I was standing on a street corner, and suddenly I felt a violent blow to my head that knocked me to the ground into the middle of the street. You know how fast you think in such moments; my first thought was that I had been attacked by young hooligans, my second thought was that I had been hit by a car. As it turns out, the wind had torn a thick fiberglass sign off of a building (a piece about 4 x 4) and this is what hit me. I was immediately surrounded by about a dozen concerned Brasilians who were asking me (I presume) if I was all right. I told them I was fine, trying to explain that I didn't speak Portuguese very well even before this happened, so they need not worry that I had suffered serious damage.

Some might wonder if this was a sign (no pun intended) from God. Well, if so, what's he saying? Is he telling me to go home? Or, since I've been terribly homesick, is he saying "Don't even think about leaving early!" Or maybe he is telling me to be careful on windy days. Of greatest interest, however, is the fiberglass sign itself. It was from KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN. Is it a coincidence that a sign made by an American fast-food company struck me in the head? I don't think so. Whether or not it was a real sign from God, this is the message I took from the experience: Colonel Sanders didn't give up easily when he began his hair-brained scheme of selling fried chicken—he endured 1008 rejections before someone finally said "yes." I was reminded that I might have to persevere in this project a little longer than I first thought —but if he can do it to sell chicken, I can do it to change lives.

Homesickness notwithstanding, I really love this place. The people are great. I am constantly impressed by their generosity and kindness, and their overall upbeat personalities. One person said to me about Cariocas (people from Rio), "If something isn't fun, we find a way to make it fun, or we find something fun to do."

Yesterday I walked to the beach and I saw this attitude at work. On Sundays they close the busy street that runs in front of the ocean and every one walks up and down. People were playing soccer and volleyball and cooking out and teaching their children to ride bicycles. I saw a father and son kicking a soccer ball back and forth (and bouncing it off their heads and their back and their chest)...but it was just like watching a father and son play catch with a baseball. I had expected to see nothing but decadence and misery here (based on things that I had heard and things that I had read), but instead I see mostly people who are just like us, who love their families, and are trying to make it through the work week so that they can enjoy being with their friends in the evenings and on weekends.

So, I am doing well and having fun and EATING WELL (I wish I had time to tell you about the food here; this is a poor country but not a hungry one.) Anyway, I will keep in touch. Keep me in your prayers. I have a big job to do. There are a lot of people here who don't know English.

Love,

Steve May