The Pumpkin Patch

I've been having a little fun making us a pumpkin patch.  I've been teased by both my husband and my daughter about my little project.  BUT given the resources at hand and how long it has been since I made anything, I think I like the results.  We need a little Halloween at the "Bat"t house, don't you think?  I got the idea from here. http://notsoidlehands.blogspot.com/search/label/Halloween

Comings and Goings On

Just a few photos of what we've been doing lately.  We attended a zone activity on the last P-day of the transfer.  The church owns a really nice place in the hills that are close to the city.  The property is within this zone and so it was the perfect place for them to meet to relax a little and have a churrasco (barbeque).

A lot of the Brazilian elders know how to use these outdoor grills.  The North Americans just sit back and let them go at it.  As you can tell, I was a lot of help too.  It's definitely a man's job here in Brazil to do the outdoor cooking and I think the elders feel pretty manly when they do it.  When you ask one of the Brazilian missionaries what their favorite food is, they usually answer churrasco.  It's popular here, but even more so in southern Brazil, I understand.

 Elder Neves is just putting a couple of pineapples on the grill. It is really good especially with cinnamon on it.  They also cooked some chicken and other sausage-type things and grilled some bread that was pretty good. I brought some brownies with a layer of marshmallow and frosting on top.  That was about as close to s'mores as I could get. 

It has been really dry lately and the grass and trees show it.  I hope they can survive because the drier and hotter part of the year is just starting.  The trees on the hills behind are usually green and beautiful, but everything was pretty brown.  In fact on the other side of that hill there was a pretty good sized brush/forest fire that day.  You can sort of see the haze in the sky.  You can't tell from this picture just how big this place is.  They have about 8 or 10 of those lovely shelters with the fireplace things in them with tables and sinks.  There are restroom/shower facilities in various places there and a few other nice buildings.  All 13 stakes that are here share it, so I guess it has to be big.

        This is our "going home" group.  This time of year it seems like we always have some that have to leave a little early to get back to school, so we had a pretty small group left by the end of the transfer. The airline schedules were so varied and crazy, we had to have the farewell dinner for them on Sunday afternoon.  We will miss these good missionaries. 

                                                      

On Monday morning, it was transfer day.  The missionaries meet in the parking lot at a church near the office and make the switches.  They also like to visit with their old companions and mission friends.  It's a fun time for them, but we try to move them along pretty fast.  There is work to be done, you know.

This is only a small part of the missionaries and suitcases I saw when I pulled up, but I just couldn't get a picture of it all.  Quite often members from the wards will come down so they can help the missionaries get their luggage hauled.  It is so nice of them.  For some reason, the city buses won't let them get on with those big suitcases.  If you've seen a crowded bus in South America, you probably understand why.

On Tuesday we dealt with more luggage when we met the new elders at the airport.  Today we got a great group of eight, all Brazilians.  We all go to our apartment and have a sit-down dinner and get acquainted a little bit.  We will get one North American tomorrow.  They are having trouble getting visas again so a lot of the North Americans are going to the MTC in Provo for training while they are waiting for visas.  Sometimes they get stuck there for quite a while and then just trickle in as their visas arrive. It sort of puts a kink in our system, but what are you gonna do? 

And that's what we've been up to lately. 

Anticipation, Anticipa-a-tion

Sometimes we get hungry for restaurant food we used to get occasionally at home.  (We only talk about it 4 or 5 times a week.  Or maybe a day.)  We think the restaurants are a little expensive here so we don't go out too often.  But, recently we saw this advertisement and thought Hallelujah! There is a place we can buy deep-fried, battered shrimp.  Let's go!  (We had asked before at a couple of other restaurants if it was available, and they acted like they had never heard of such a thing.)

We made plans, talked about it all day,  and decided to take along our bottle of cocktail sauce we had imported from home. We headed out at about 6:30 or 7:00, which is early by Brazilian standards.  We got seated quickly, and ordered quickly because we knew what we wanted. It didn't take long for our waiter to come back with our order.  It was about this time we realized we had forgotten to bring our cocktail sauce, but no worries.  We could see that it was a lot of food and we just figured we would eat some of the shrimp there and then ask for a box and take the rest home to eat with the sauce.

It looked great.  The shrimp were all lined up around the outside of the serving dish atop some pretty rice and vegetables with some potatoes in the middle. (I just realized that I 'm not sure whether I should say shrimp or shrimps and use was or were.  I guess I will look up the plural form later.)  Anyway, Alan beat me to the first shrimp.  He took a bite.  I waited for a reaction.  I honestly thought he was going to cry, and he said he almost did.

But alas, not for joy.

Each shrimp had been split and filled with what we later found out was catipury cheese before it was battered and fried.  I think Alan described it pretty well when he said it was like biting into a nice, juicy shrimp that had been covered in a generic brand of Easy Cheese.  I thought the texture was more along the lines of Elmer's Glue. ( Not that I've eaten any since elementary school, but that's what came to mind.)

So we ate the potatoes, of course, stirred the rice around a bit, and asked for a box.  Before we left the restaurant Alan asked if we could order the shrimp another time without the cheese.  The waiter said, "No because we just buy them frozen.  They come that way."

Pre-frozen shrimp and we are 50 yards from the ocean?  Talk about a double whammy!  Actually, triple whammy if you consider the price we paid. 

When we got home we made some incisions,  squeezed the cheese out and enjoyed some nearly cheese-free shrimp WITH imported cocktail sauce. Not too bad, but there was a certain air of sadness, bordering depression as we ate.

It's still hard to talk about. 

Mini's Brazilian Cousin?

 I spied this banner the other day and had to take a picture.  Who knew I would end up so close to Mega Bazar after all those years at Mini Bazaar.  I might just have to go check it out.

Where do the Hours Go?

I ran across this little cartoon while I was trying to clean up my Inbox today. 

 Isn't this the truth or am I the only one that has this problem?

It also really reminded me of this picture:

I don't know why I like this picture of Mom so much.  I know I have posted it before, but I had to put it on again when I was reminded of it.

Hold the Cheese Please

I wonder how many of the weird misconceptions about what Mormons believe get started like this:

Recently a Burger King opened right across the street from the mission office in Fortaleza, Brazil.  The missionaries were quite excited about it and the new Burger King has had a lot of business from nice, clean-cut, young men wearing white shirts and ties and a black name tag.  The president of said missionaries has enjoyed a fair amount of Whoppers in the last couple of months.  (In his defense, it is difficult to resist the aroma of the flame-broiled beef wafting through the window of your office, especially when you can "have it your way.")  

Said president always orders his Whopper "his way"...without cheese.  

Why no cheese?  Because a) he doesn't really like the taste of it,  b) they take 10 centavos off the price, and c) you have to cut calories somewhere. 

The wife of said president doesn't care to have fake cheese on her hamburger either and also orders the Whopper without cheese.  Recently, she ate there with a sister missionary that opted out of the cheese too.  

A few days later one of the managers at Burger King approached the president with a stack of coupon cards that are punched when a sandwich is purchased.  After a certain amount of purchases a "free" sandwich is earned.  When the manager finished explaining the coupon card, he leaned in close, lowered his voice a bit and said, "And you know, we can make all of these sandwiches 'sem queijo' (without cheese)."

The president was amused that the manager thought that members of the church didn't eat cheese.  He shared this story at a stake conference where he talked about how church members should share their beliefs with friends, family, and neighbors and clear up some of the crazy misconceptions that people have about Mormons.

Shortly after, during a baptismal interview, the missionaries asked a man, who had attended said stake conference, if he understood the limitations of the Word of Wisdom.  He answered, "Yes, I know that alcohol, drugs, tobacco, and coffee and tea are off-limits, but what's the deal about cheese?"

So, I don't know if it is one of those misconceptions that is going to get out of hand or if I need to notify Elder Ballard that he might want to consider adding to his "Fact List" from his excellent talk that Mormons do, indeed, eat cheese.  All I know is that when Rebecca and I went to Burger King the other day the girl took our order and then said, "Now that's without cheese, right?"

A Toast to the World Cup

Brazil's next soccer match in the World Cup is due to start in half an hour.  I'm already hearing some random horn-blowing and the traffic is starting to thicken as people are getting back home to watch the game.  I tell you, everything comes to a halt during the games here.  Stores, offices, and businesses close; even the buses stop.  It's CRAZY!

Well, I'm back.  (You probably didn't even know I left.)  I had to stop blogging for lunch and the game.  It just ended and Brazil lost, 2-1, to the Netherlands.  I didn't even know they played soccer in the Netherlands.  Aren't they supposed to be growing tulips or something?  Anyway, the party is over for Brazil.  Too bad, because they were having such a good time and I was hoping for a match-up between Brazil and the pretty boys of Argentina when Rebecca comes down next week.  There is a pretty intense rivalry between the two countries and that would have really amped things up.

I've been taking pictures when I've been out and about that might explain some of the excitement that Brazil has for the World Cup and soccer (futebol) in general, I think.

Tons of cars have been flying these little Brazilian flags.  I thought the super-fans were the ones sporting two flags, but then I saw this:

  A car with four flags; one for each door.

There were guys at every main intersection selling flags and other World Cup stuff. 

Even one of the guys that goes around pulling a cart gathering stuff to recycle from garbages bought a flag or two. (Or got them somehow.  They do work at night quite often.)

We had to go around the block to get a shot of this bike a guy was riding.  By the time we got back, he had parked it and gone in the pharmacy.  I don't know if you can see all the time he put into it.  It even had a little roof for shade over the top.  I don't know how he could even see through all the streamers.

People had parties with friends and neighbors to watch the games.

People at the airport welcome visitors and share their enthusiasm.

Stores, restaurants, and even the gas stations got in the spirit of things and decorated.

Lots of neighborhoods put up streamers over their streets.  At first I thought maybe the city was doing it, but I kept seeing older bare-bellied men up on ladders stringing up the decorations, and found out it was just something neighbors got together and did.  We drive through this area that I call "The Hood"  all the time.  Let me tell you, "The Hood" went all out.

They started out with the streamers,

The next week there were more streamers plus the flags,

and the painted poles and walls that are around peoples' houses.

Here's a close-up of one of the walls.  Who wouldn't want a mermaid with the thumbs up signal on the front of their house?

The boys in "The Hood" were caught up in the excitement after one of the games.  I think the ball just got kicked into the street as I took this picture.  I never could get a good picture of the street itself.  Somehow, they even painted big flags and other stuff on it.  They must have done it at night, because there is a lot of traffic on that narrow little street.

Even the richer folks got into it.  Somebody hung this big Brazilian flag out of their high-rise apartment with a couple of smaller flags on the sides. (I thought they were Italian, but looked them up and found out the stripes are vertical on Italy's flag.  There are too many flags that are quite similar and I didn't have the patience to figure out which country they represent. If you are interested or bored you can go here and see if you can tell.) 

We got into the World Cup fever a little ourselves and decorated the table for a get-together we had with a bunch of parents and grandparents and other relatives of missionaries that were going home.  I forgot to take a picture of the table before the party, so things look a little trashed.  

Six different missionaries had relatives here and we had nice evening; visiting, eating, listening to testimonies, and saying good-byes.  It is always a little hard saying good-by and we will really miss this group.  They were obedient, hard-working, loving, and effective missionaries.  

The World Cup will be held here, in Brazil, in 2014.  I think some of the games will be played in the big stadium here, in Fortaleza.  I can only imagine the World Cup fever then.  We might have to come back just for the fun of it all.