So we are here.
At Betel Orphanage in Brazil.
It is so far from home! We flew from Heathrow to Atlanta, and that took 8 hours. And then we flew from Atlanta to Brasilia, and that took another 9 hours. And then we travelled by bus for 2 hours. But now we are here.
The familiar strangeness of the place hits me as we turn down the dirt track towards the farm. I have heard so much of this place and the Horses for Orphans project these last two years, seen so many photographs, dreamed so many dreams. And now we are here. This is not just another dream. The heat and the sounds of children reassure me of this. In my mind and in my dreams they never speak Portugese – even though I know this is their language! Now Portugese is what I hear all around me; in the voices of the children as they call to each other, in the shy greetings of each boy; in the conversations between the adults.
I find that I have to discipline and manage the explosion of joy and love inside as I meet each boy, reminding myself that while I might feel that know them, they do not know me. This is the nature of our modern world – I have seen so many photos of the children in the horse project, and heard Ingela tell of their adventures, discovering and mastering horsemanship. While designing and illustrating the Journals that the children use, I drew many of the boys from those same photographs. When you stare at a photograph for a long while, you do begin to feel that you know the person in that photo. The more so if you pray for them.
We meet Pastor Ernesto. He too feels familiar. Except that he is so much taller than in the photo. The girls and I have often prayed for him by name. He welcomes us to Betel, and tells us that he doesn’t speak English. And we do not really, in spite of our efforts to learn, speak Portugese - yet. So we smile at each other and stand in a comfortable circle and listen to Ingela explain where we come from and who we are.
And then we go for lunch. Again, that peculiar familiarity. We have seen the big dining room before. Now we collect our plates and fill them with rice and beans and vegetables. The food is simple but good. We eat with Ingela and Richard and the boys who came along to collect us from the airport. The rest of the children ate lunch earlier.
After lunch we head back to our house, which we are sharing with the rest of the girls on the team – Mel. Emma, Rebecca. Rebecca is from Sweden, the rest of us come from England.... although Ingela makes a point of introducing Kate and Julie and me as the South-Africans. Thankfully we collapse on our beds; we have a couple of hours to rest before we meet with Ingela and Richard to discuss the plans and objectives for our time here.
In the afternoon we go for a walk around Betel with Emma, meeting people and hugging children along the way. Because this is her fifth trip to Betel, she is well positioned to show us around. This is such a pretty place and so much has been done to make it so. There are flowering trees and bushes along the well-kept pathways. Tall Eucalyptus trees stand in soldierly rows, guarding the edges of the horse paddocks and arenas. The children live in various houses on the farm. There is a church, and a big dining room, and a school for the younger children.
To our astonishment we come across an ostrich, lying all by herself on the grass. Neil offers her a piece of fruit, but with a queenly sideways turn of the head she declines to associate with us. There are also ducks and geese, and dogs and cats and rabbits and cattle... and, of course, the horses.
We wander down to the arena. Horses are grazing along the sides. We recognise some of them from photographs we have seen. Like the ostrich, they are not particularly interested in us. They are far too busy with their own very important affair – grazing.
We see Richard’s well constructed fencing. I remember when they were putting in the first poles to build all this. Now it is here in front of me – solid, real.
We note that some of the bolts are loose or missing in the fencing. One of the maintenance tasks for the team. Neil offers to do this job. Julie and Kate note that the mucking out has not been done. Normally this would be done by the boys, but there are a few changes taking place, and right now it is not clear who should be doing what tasks when. The girls volunteer to clean the arena. So already we have some ideas of things we can do to be useful here!
Back at our house we make tea and then Richard and Ingela give us a summary of the current status of the project. They explain the schedule we will follow and how we will fit in with the orphanage routine. They also tell us some of the things they would like us to do while we are here – teach horsemanship, teach English, help with the revisions of the handbook in both English and Portugese, do maintenance tasks. And most importantly, to pray and seek God for direction for the next phase of Horses for Orphans. This particular project has been running for three years now, and it is time to look at expansion and development.
We go back to the dining room for supper. Same as lunch – rice and beans and salad. I sit with Aurimar and some of the girls. Aurimar is teaching me one sentence of Portugese at a time. So far I have learned to say: ‘What is your name?’ and ‘My name is Cathy’. He is strict about pronunciation, getting me to say it exactly as he does.
In the evening we spend a little more time with Ingela and Richard and 20 year old Reginaldo, who up until now has led the horse project. Reginaldo was one of the orphanage boys. Three years ago Ingela began training him in horsemanship and since then he has led the project, caring for the horses and teaching the children. In spite of his youth, he has done a great job. He has a wonderful way with the children and it is clear that he is deeply loved and trusted by them. Sadly, the leadership is less supportive. It seems that they would prefer an older, more experienced person in his place.
After tea and chats, it is off to bed. We are relieved to find ourselves there! We are very tired.
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