Boxer engine (you gotta be a wrencher to understand that)
At 3 p.m. yesterday we had hot water in the hotel. By 11 p.m. it was warm at best. By the time I showered at 6 a.m. this morning it was COLD. All through my shower I kept telling myself, "You're in the African outback and in an hour you're going to go see lions, elephants, giraffes and more. This is simply the price you pay for that experience."
Alas, I didn't see any wildlife. I came to the breakfast bar for cold barely-scrambled eggs, cold sausage, and cold coffee.
Anybody seeing a theme here?
The good news: the bathroom mirror doesn't fog over. Which it otherwise would because there's no bathroom fan or window.
Hmmmm. I wonder if....
There are two outlets in this two-bed room, one of them in the bathroom. I left my laptop on the vanity counter to charge overnight and this morning it's crawling with the tiniest ants I've ever seen.
(Did I tell you this already?) In Brazil hotels are where you get a bed, a bathroom, and maybe a cold b'fast. A motel is where you take a prostitute or your mistress (the latter is apparently almost normal here). That's why they have names like "Erros Motel" or others I shouldn't put in a blog written by a preacher.
The truth: after finishing the (abbreviated) two leadership sessions here in Aracaju I haven't felt they went as well as the full seminar I did in Recife. Last night I figured out why. In Recife a number of the people spoke English and gave me positive feedback. Here in Aracaju no one speaks any English. So when the session is done they talk to each other and to Joe. That is entirely natural and to be expected. It doesn't upset me. It just means I don't get feedback, no one saying "I thought what you said about _____ was good" or similar.
NBC.com has an article this morning written by Melissa Gilbert saying her choice to age naturally after a series of cosmetic surgeries was the best decision she's made.
At 54 do you really think that's her natural hair color?
I guess it depends on how you define naturally.
I think my wife's gray hair is beautiful. And dignified. And graceful.
Just sayin'.
Our hosts here in Aracaju are Pastor Carlos and his wife (who's very Brazilian name I can't remember). They are as gracious and hospitable a couple as you'll ever meet. I'm sorry I haven't thought to get a pic of them and will remedy that today!
She's fixed two meals a day for us since we arrived - traditional Brazilian dishes that are very good. This is their dog. Do NOT show this pic to mynha esposa or dognapping will be added to the list of crimes I've committed. It's about a 25-pound dog, on the lower end of medium, and as sweet as its owners. They adopted it off the streets here in Aracaju, nursed it back to full health, and it wins over everyone who comes to their home. I don't know if it can bark but it can sure wag its tail and beg for scratches.
Joe and I have the morning off. They have a pool here at the hotel and I think Joe is going to spend time in it. I figure the water is cold so I'll take a pass. I'll read, nap, try to find some hot coffee, and then take another nap. Pastor Carlos is coming over with Peter and Lucas who are staying at their place and we'll go out for lunch.
That's a good thing, just another awkward experience for me. Of the five people at the table I'm the one who doesn't speak or understand Portuguese. I don't want to seem antisocial but I can't participate in the light and easy conversation they'll have (and which has been the norm at around the table at the home of Carlos and his wife). It is what it is and I assume they understand I'm not sitting there quietly because I'm upset or bored.
I'm now sitting at a table in the b'fast area of the hotel. I'm going to get another cup of cold coffee and do some reading.
Tchau.
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