Brazil is so weird.
Brazil itself is great. I love Brazil. But serving a mission in Brazil is weird.
Everything is different. Days pass faster and sooo much slower at the same time. I don´t know how to describe it. I love it here. The people are fabulous. The food is great. I´ve got guaraná for yearrrrrrs here. This place is wonderful. I´m even more cut off from the rest of the world haha, but I adore everything about this place.
The craziness began a week ago after our p-day festivities (pretty sure the crazy things always happen Monday night...dunno why, but ALWAYS)..
Então... We were walking...and walking...and walking.. and walking under a sketch bridge.. and crossing a street... and out of nowhere this middle aged man with flip flops and a suit jacket is running towards us yelling ´´IRMAS!......IRMAS!!!´´ (Sisters) and flailing his arms to get our attention. I was scared for my life. I kinda wanted to start running the other direction. But my comp? nope. Wait, sister! WAIT FOR WHAT? WE ARE GOING TO DIE. I DONT WANT TO WAIT. But we waited. The man caught up, caught his breath, and started talking. This is all happening in português, remember. I don´t have a clue. He starts going on and mentioned that he talked to some irmas from some other church yesterday and he thought we were them and i´m not sure if he wanted us to preach to him or preach WITH him but he had some motive behind talking to us and we gave him an invite to come to church on Sunday and he started this very animated prayer, and he was holding the invite in his hand, looking up at the sky, and walking in circles as he spoke (much like the Princess Bride...please guide this sword to the man with the mask-esque...impressive) and he´s praying to God to know if this is what he was meant to cross our path and if we´re telling the truth and all kinds of stuff. The prayer itself was very sincere. It lasted a solid 10 minutes, but it was great. We stood there and when he threw in an ´´amen´´ we shook his hand and went on our way. He didn´t come to church and im not actually sure that we´ll ever see him again, but its cool.
we went to visit this rockin awesome family the other day (they live in a sketchy sketch bairro.. drugs by the truck load, but almost everyone we´re working with lives there so... eh. it happens.) we were just arriving and some man starts screaming and running down the road ´´CHUUUUVA! CHUUUUUVVAAAA!´´ ...Chuva meaning RAIN. Sister Novoa and I looked up to the overcast (but rainless) sky, looked at each other and thought ´´´hmmmmm eu acho que não... Don´t think so.´´ No rain. Turns out ´´chuva´´ is code word for ´POLICE. THE POLICE ARE COMING. HIDE THE MONEY. HIDE THE DRUGS. IF YOU´RE ON DRUGS, HIDE.´´ Everyone is going crazy and running and shutting doors and this woman is running and dancing in the street with this huge branch in hand, some guy is busting it to the mercado, everyone is nuts. We see this police car come through and drive to the sketchy street...people were still going crazy and i dunno what happened but everything went silent and we decided to go inside before we got shot and talk about the gospel.
I´m in Brasil, guys.
Earlier that day we taught Rillary and Ágata, and their friend Isadora came with them to a young women activity and we showed them the baptismal font and they loved it and they´re both hardcore feeling the spirit and we´re going to see if they want to be baptized next week...SUPER prepared family, love them all. This place is the best.
Wellllll I gotta go but I love yall a ton. Keep some letters coming down south por favor, i only get them like once every 6 weeks so it´s like CHRISTMAS every transfer.
Paz, gente.
Sister Morrill
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