"Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up." - Thomas A. Edison

For son Josh, a certified hand therapist.

First the good news: I had a warm shower this morning! Turned on only the hot water, no cold at all, and didn't freeze. That counts as a win.
But beyond that surprise I can't recommend the Nobile Express Hotel when you next come to Aracaju. No one at the front desk speaks any English and all the employees I've encountered tend to the surly side, the free b'fast is a bit scary unless you're OK with runny scrambled eggs, and you pay for water.

In Recife I did two modules: 12 hours on my book and 12 hours of leadership training. The plan was to do the same here in Aracaju but for reasons I'm not sure I fully understand but that included a Brazil match in theWorld Cup both modules got cut down to 6 hours. I heavily edited the leadership training I did Thursday and Friday evening at one of the churches here and was generally pleased with how it went. About 40 people seemed engaged, interactive, and receptive.

I was supposed to do three hours last night (from 5 to 8 p.m.) and another three this morning (9 to noon) on dispensationalism at a camp just outside Aracaju for people from the four affiliated churches here.
We arrived about 4:40 to find the large brick-walled room had chairs set up and nothing else. Joe had sent very specific instructions that included what we'd need: projector, screen, remote clicker, two microphones, table and dias. None of that was anywhere to be seen. He found someone milling around outside and one young man came in to help.
The session finally started at 6:00 with 10 minutes of talk by one of the local pastors (in Portuguese so I have no idea what he said) and then two songs led by a couple of teen girls sharing the only mic they could come up with. I had pared down the first half of my material from 6 hours to 3 and now Joe and I had an hour and 45 minutes. We didn't get through it.

Afterward Joe was just short of furious. Not only had the local leaders not prepared for our time as he had asked (Joe is very thorough, almost to a fault, so there's no question they'd been given instructions repeatedly) but the session itself was pretty much a hot mess. There were children and kids in the room, people got up and left, a guy in the front row fell asleep 10 minutes in, and most of them seemed generally clueless to what we were talking about.

We quit at 8:45 because things were going so poorly and Joe gathered the local pastors to give them a come-to-Jesus talk. Turns out the pastors figured about 25% of the people there were unbelievers who do not attend church and probably come for the free meal afterward. They never told their people this was for adults, and the majority of them had never heard the word dispensation before coming despite their instructions to give them a basic intro. Joe gave the pastors some options with instructions to email him with their decision. When we turned in at 11:30 he hadn't heard back.

Long story short (as my brother would say, "it's too late") we're beginning the drive back to Recife this morning about 9 a.m. which should put us there around 5 p.m. He wrote an email to the pastors that one of them should give an evangelistic message at this morning's session and then send them home (after the free lunch).

I feel bad for Joe. Like I said, he is VERY thorough and attentive to details. He's put a ton of work into every aspect of my trip going back months. So his irritation is completely understandable. I think he also feels embarrassed that I was put out.
NOT!
I've been where he is - seriously disappointed by people who didn't come through as promised. I am not the least bit offended, hurt, or anything of the sort. I told Pam I'm glad this happened at the end of my trip and ALL the earlier modules in both cities went so well. If it had been the other way around I'd have gone into them at least wary.

I may preach at one of the churches in Recife when we get back. I told Joe I'd do whatever, wherever.
I'm just glad I'm not in the group of leaders here in Aracaju. I suspect this isn't a closed book just yet.

OK, now that I've got that out of the way here's a report on yesterday's morning and noon experience, both of which were wonderful.

Joe and I were picked up by (local) pastor Carlos and Peter (aka Uncle Ben) and pastor Carlos (Recife) about 11:00 and headed out for lunch. We went into the first place and decided to go on to another they knew about that was a bit more authentic Brazilian.
I guess so!

It was in a covered market next to the downtown square. Dozens and dozens of shops, most selling the same stuff, buskers every 100 yards or so - solo or small bands - playing traditional Brazilian music, and small restaurants dotting the place. It was FULL of people, sounds, smells, and activity. Wonderful.

We ate at a cafe there that served meat (it is Brazil) of all sorts with rice, beans, and a salad (in Brazil that means a few leafs of lettuce and four slices of tomato). I had chicken in a sauce that was delicious. Joe had cow's tail that he said was as tender as could be. I don't remember what the others had. It was served by a gal working as hard as any Denny's waitress who made sure we had plenty of Coke in our glasses (don't drink the water). I could not finish all of my rice and beans (better than it sounds) but the other four cleaned their plates. Brazilians know how to eat!
Joe told me the price per plate, no matter what you ordered, was about $6 U.S. Crazy!

After that we walked the market and looked in shops for a hat I could get. I didn't want a cap, but a chapéu, preferably a Panama. All the Panama hats sold at all the shops are exactly the same, from China, and made of processed paper. That ain't gonna work in Oregon beyond the first wearing.
The beautiful handmade leather hats would have done very nicely (and cheaply) but regardless of what it said on the label they were ALL mediums and this gringo needs a large.
I am, after all, a preacher.
So I left without a hat.

But not empty-handed. Because of my past physical issues while flying the doctor wants me to load up on salt 24 hours before I fly. At home I use chips but Brazilians apparently don't eat those. This is the home of the cashew, though, and we passed through a shop selling nothing but cashew nuts on the way out of the market. Joe bought a HUGE bag (not one of these, out of which she filled up Joe's bag) and paid peanuts for it. (see what I did there?) Even Joe was surprised how cheap they were.
The important thing: they're salted cashews. So I'll munch on them all day today, drink lots of water, wear my compression socks, exercise my but cheeks, and - D.V. - have no trouble on my three flights home TOMORROW.

I miss minha esposa.