Horses for Orphans, Brazil - Day 2

I wake to the sound of someone’s alarm clock, insistently buzzing in the distance. It is none of ours, but I am awake. I make myself a cup of coffee and sit in the lounge and drink it. It is good to have a few moments to be quiet before the day begins.

Off I go to the shower. Interesting! The water runs directly onto the floor of the tiny bathroom and wets the toilet and the basin and everything else. I discover that is it wisdom to leave one’s towel and clothes on the other side of the door! The shower head is high above, and I am glad about this, because exposed electrical wires run along it. Apparently electrocution in the shower is often a cause of death in Brazil. Looking up I can see why!

It is a challenge getting Rebecca out of bed. She is so tired! But we are all supposed to go with Reginaldo to fetch the horses this morning. We are running late. Eventually we are all ready and off we go. Most of the horses are waiting at the arena. It is nice to see so many that we recognise from the photographs. Emma tells us the names as we go past each one. But eight are missing. So off we go in search of them. This is not very easy – there is a lot of land they could be on, and cows are everywhere. From a distance it is not always possible to see if it is a cow or a horse. After a period of fruitless searching, Emma suggests that we go back and ask Reginaldo to go and look for them on horseback. It is already hot, and more humid than we are accustomed to.

We go back up to the house where we are supposed to meet the younger children who are coming for their first horsemanship lesson. They are nowhere in sight. So we get some water and sit outside and chat. Lilian, a disabled woman, comes over to join us. She squeezes into the small space between Julie and me. She doesn’t talk much, and what she does say we don’t understand. She just likes to sit with us.

I photograph some birds and the flowers and we wonder what to do – we don’t know where to find the children who are supposed to be coming for a lesson. .... Young Marco* arrives and says hello. He asks Rebecca if he may take some photos with her camera. He has us all laughing as he enthusiastically photographs everything in sight! Marco* is the boy Ingela told me about, who, every three weeks when the relatives come to visit the children, waits at the bus stop in the hope that maybe, this time, his mother will come. She never does. 

Suddenly the children arrive for their horsemanship lesson. We were told to expect three children, but there are six. And now there is only half an hour left for their lesson. They cannot stay longer because they have to go to school afterwards. Down at the arena, it is a relief to see that the missing eight horses have come up by themselves while we were absent. We take the children over to the arena and Emma tries to explain haltering, but it is difficult. 

The children do not understand and begin talking and playing amongst themselves. Reginaldo steps in and explains in Portugese. Immediately he has a quiet and attentive audience. He then takes each child, one by one, and gets them to practise haltering a pole. I am struck by his gentleness and patience.

As he finishes with the first child, Julie takes her over to halter a horse named Palomino. And then Kate takes the next child. And Emma takes a third. I take photographs of the girls teaching the orphans with a rather full heart. This, after all, is what we have come all this way to do. It is one of those moments of supreme happiness that catch one unawares. I am so grateful to be here.

All too soon our time is up, and the other three children will have to wait for their next lesson to get a turn to actually halter a horse. We head back up to our house where we grab a quick cup of coffee and a breadroll. These breadrolls are made here at the orphanage and they are delicious. But we are running late now, and we earn ourselves a mild rebuke from Ingela.

Richard arrives with Reginaldo and a few of the boys, and we spend time worshipping God and praying. Before we know it, it is lunch-time. There is nothing quite so satisfying as connecting with our Father, and here it seems especially vital to do so. There is so much pain around us.

Lunch is the usual rice and beans and salad. Aurimar teaches me my next sentence: ‘How old are you?’ Afterwards we have a bit of free time to chat, relax, sleep, study Portugese or write updates.

In the afternoon we all go down to the arena to do horsemanship with the older boys. They have not been allowed to do horsemanship the last few weeks, so they need a little time to prepare their horses, and then they show us some of the things they are able to do. It feels so unreal to think that we are actually here, not just watching one of Ingela’s video clips. Here they all are, in front of me, smiling when they catch my eye. Reginaldo, Douglas, Marcos, Aurimar, Hudson, Weverson, Welliton, Rogerio... only Patrick, Gleidson, Fabricio and Antonio are missing. I watch Aurimar doing perfect circles on a loose rein, just with thought, energy and a subtle body cue – a slight lean to the side. It is beautiful, harmonious, connected. He makes it look easy – but having tried to do it with my own horse, I know it is not.

A boy standing on the side catches my eye. I recognise him immediately. It is Paulo*. I go over to him and say “Hello Paulo*”. He looks at me in surprise and asks: “You know me?” And I say: “Yes Paulo*, I know you”. And I hug him. I know you Paulo*. I have known you for two years. Prayed for you, cried for you, yearned to see you healed. I knew when you were removed from the horse project because of your extreme anger issues. I knew about your tears and your pain. I also knew when you beat your horse, your horse that you loved, and even Ingela found it hard to stop you. I know about your longing to be allowed back. I know you, precious stranger boy. I keep all these thoughts inside and simply say: “I know you Paulo*. I have seen many photos of you.” And he smiles.

Later we help Mel set up a Horse Agility course. Ingela explains the obstacles to the boys and they practise for a while. Just as we are about to begin the rain comes down – with a vengeance! This is certainly not English rain. Within a few minutes everything is soaked and we are glad we are wearing waterproof clothing. The boys and horses are drenched, but valiantly they continue with the Horse Agility course. We stand in the rain, cheering them on. Back at our house later, my shoes are soaking wet. Even though they are waterproof, there was enough rain running down my legs to soak them inside! Next time I will listen to advice and put on my waterproof trousers...

At supper Emma and I sit with Raphael, whose parents live and work at Betel. He is a lovely, gentle boy with an innate kindness on him. Opposite me is a very small boy, so tired that he does not want to eat. Head on his arms he stares into the distance. Raphael tells us that on the 27^th of this month he will be two years old. He goes around to this little chap and asks him if he wants to eat. The little boy shakes his head, and Raphael picks him up and takes him to his house mother.

Supper over we head off to the school building. We use one of the classrooms and teach English. Our theme is ‘Food and Drink’. Kate and Julie act out a dialogue...’Are you thirsty?’... ‘Yes, I am thirsty,’... ‘Are you hungry?’... ‘Yes I am hungry...’ and so on. We get the children to repeat the dialogue and then go around the group asking what their favourite food and drink is. There is a lot of laughter. 

Afterwards we split into smaller groups and chat about different things. It is a successful class.

The children come back to our house with us and we share chocolate and tea. If they ask in English, they can have more sugar in their tea. A lot of hilarity accompanies these requests.

Nine o’clock is bedtime for the boys, after which we meet with Richard and Ingela for a quick feedback and debrief session about how our first day has been. All of us are feeling very happy, which is good news! And finally we tumble into our beds, more than ready to sleep.

* Name changed to protect privacy