Friday, June 15, 2012

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Wednesday, June 6th , 2012 Today (Wednesday the 6th) is a sad day for us. We woke up early and rolled our luggage out to Paulo’s van. We said our goodbye’s to Dona Helena and at that moment I wished that I knew more Portuguese than I did. But knowing more Portuguese probably wouldn’t have helped, because I couldn’t have described how much that I would miss her and how thankful of her that I was in English. All I could do was hug her and say “obrigada” (thank you) over and over again. She had probably thought that I had gone crazy when my first few tears started to fall, but I knew that this woman was special in her own simple, grandmotherly way. She was the one who attempted to teach me the most Portuguese, pointing out food and saying the name in Portuguese , and she stayed patient with me after I had forgotten the word for rice a million times. She was always there in the morning, helping me put fresh milk in my coffee because I always messed it up. And then there’s Paulo. Quiet Paulo, whom I had barely spoken to the whole trip, gave us all big hugs at the bus station as if we were all his grandchildren. After we said our goodbyes and got on the bus, we arrived in the little beach town where we were planning to relax on the beach for a day and a half, only to find that rain that was much needed on Xukuru territory, was all pouring down at once here… hours away. Me and Erin made the most of our rainy afternoon by watching American movies in Portuguese and attempting to understand them. We sampled the local cuisine (which was very similar to the food we were served at Dona Helena’s) and attempted to converse with the couple who owned the Pousada. And before we all fell asleep, we all prayed to whatever force was out there, that it would be sunny the next day. Beth

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