Horses for Orphans, Brazil - Day 4

Kate continues trying to climb the palm tree. The challenge is on! The older boys cannot allow some little English kid to achieve something they have never done. Suddenly the palm trees are assaulted by wiry bodies, climbing, slipping, sliding... a lot of laughter accompanies these attempts.

I spend most of my day helping Ingela with the Portugese translation of the Horse Handling book – we are formatting and checking for obvious errors before it goes to the Portugese editors.

The rest of the team does Horse Agility with the older boys. Ingela sees my crest-fallen face when I realise that I am spending my afternoon indoors and laughs. Later when it rains really hard, she reminds me that we – at least – are not getting wet!

Later that same afternoon, Julie and I sit with one of the older boys and listen as he tells us his parents are dead. I had heard about this tragedy from Ingela, that his whole family had been shot dead in front of him when he was eleven years old. That’s my Kate’s age.  I watch this boy, and wonder how on earth one lives on with so much pain inside. He is beautiful, inside and out; immediately one of our favourites. One that, if I could, I would without hesitation bring home with us to Longfields, regardless of the inevitable upheaval this would cause. He moves with a lithe grace, and is full of life. His inherent kindness is tangible – he is the one who brings us different fruits to eat, who gives as well as takes hugs, who cuts a way through the bush for us so that we don’t scratch our legs on the way to the waterfall. But there is a huge and suppressed anger in him, one that energises him and keeps him in constant motion.

I have realised rather fast that rice and beans for both lunch and supper is just not working for my body. My appetite has disappeared and I feel slightly sick at the thought of eating. So I skip lunch and just have supper. This is fine; it is way to hot to feel hungry! The bread rolls are delicious, so I enjoy starting my day with strong black Brazilian coffee and a roll, maybe with cheese, sometimes with an egg. Such a simple diet... and the children of Betel thrive on it. They have strong, healthy bodies. Makes me think, yet again, about the Western diet; how much we pander to our tastebuds – and pay the price for it. 

In the evening there is English, as usual. We start off with everyone, and then divide into smaller groups to practise. Tonight I work with Raphael, who has some knowledge of English already. He informs me that he would appreciate it if I will practise verb tenses with him. Once again I am faced with the incongruousness of the English language as we look at regular verbs and then irregular verbs.