Knowing the we were soon to leave here, a few days ago I grabbed my camera and set out to take some pics of some of the cool things I’ve encountered since we’ve been here.
Late afternoon found me quite a way from home, and it was a relief when I saw a famliar vehicle with two men I’ve become acquianted with since we’ve been here.
They are members of Brazil’s christian Motorcycle club, the Abutros (means ‘vultures’ from Matt 24:28)
I climbed into the jeep with them and rode to the paderia. We stopped and bought a bottle of coke and I showed them my pictures.
It took some effort, since we don’t speak the same language, but I was able to tell them I am trying to capture the “real” Brazil on film, not the jazzed up PR that you see on the advertisements.
Suddenly, and not knowing exactly what I was getting into, we were back in the jeep and heading over the canal toward a beach community there called Janga.
The majority of Janga is residential with a beautiful well-kept beach front, but tucked between Janga and Rio Doce on the banks of an old shipping canal, and right behind the stature of Irmanjea the sea-goddess is a little village of fisherman.
My friends and I turned off the main road and parked in front of a little house where a man was turning out some beautiful wood carvings, walked through his yard and turned right down the beach.
30 meters later, we knocked on the door of a little house and Jeanne answered.
We talked, Jeanne led us around the village and I took some more pics, then her husban Paulo came in off the boat and we spent the rest of the evening visiting.
It is always awkward when different languages are involved, but by end of the evening Sandra and I had been invited back for a fish dinner.
A week later we returned and sat to the table of some of the best food I’ve ever eaten. Fish, brazilian pescador style, fresh from the ocean, with lime, rice, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, onions, and we made a friend.
Paulo was once a worship leader in a church in another city, but had some problems with alcohol and ended up being seperated from fellowship. We talked about it some, but I didn’t really think too much about it until the following tuesday when Paulo and Jeanne showed up for church here at the Casa de Meu Pai.
We are leaving in a few days for the other side of Brazil, but will always remember these folks and their little cabin with the front door less than a hundred feet from the sea.
click on the pic at the top of this post to see a set of photos from Janga Village.
carl
