The Rainy Season

It is summer in Brazil and that means rain; days and days of steady rain. When we arrived in Campinas last July it was winter and the area was in the middle of a drought. There had been no rain for several months and the air was grey with smoke from all the fires burning in the cane fields and from little spontaneous fires everywhere. For several more months there was no precipitation. Everything smelled of smoke and even the air inside our house and the chapels was smoky. I began to get more and more calls from our missionaries with respiratory problems and raw throats. I longed for rain to clear away the haze and let the sun shine through blue skies again.

I got my wish. The rainy season arrived with the summer and we now have rain. Oh, how it rains. The storms usually follow a pattern. The morning begins clear and cloudless. As the day becomes hotter and more humid, the sky piles high with ballooning white clouds. Toward the late afternoon they rapidly blacken and hang heavy and threatening and the day becomes as dark as evening. Then in a fury the storm begins. The rain falls in sifting sheets so thick that the city view behind our house disappears. Lightning illuminates the sky and thunder cracks and rumbles. The storm rages for a few hours and then moves on. The downpour stops, the sun comes out again and the distant clouds silently shimmer with far-off lightning.

Last December a storm broke while I was baking hundreds of Christmas brownies for our missionaries. Lightning and thunder cracked right outside my window. It made my heart jump and knocked the power out twice. The downpour was so intense that I couldn’t open the windows in my hot, steamy, un-air-conditioned kitchen. For five hours the wind blew the rain with such intensity that it crossed five feet of covered balcony and streamed under the closed but un-shuttered doors and flooded ten feet into our three bedrooms. I had wondered why the beautiful wood floors were buckled and whitened. Now I know it’s from the rainwater that often pours in during a storm. Now, even if the sun is shining I don’t dare leave the house without battening down the doors because the day can quickly turn stormy.

For the first three weeks of January it rained hard and steadily, filling the rivers and saturating the ground. I worry about our missionaries. They get drenched in the sudden downpours and walk through the water in holey shoes. Occasionaly they get sick going from the hot, steamy outdoors to riding in air-conditioned buses in wet clothes. Many of their apartments are leaky and damp when it rains, though hot and humid. We are working hard to fix that. They rarely complain and always have a bright smile for me.



One morning several days ago we got an early morning call from one of our missionaries who lived in a low lying area. During the night the river had overflowed and completely flooded the ground floor of the home where he and his companion lived. The fire department had come by boat to evacuate the elders from their second floor apartment. They couldn’t take much with them and had no idea when they might return. There was concern that the apartment would be vandalized and their things stolen while it was vacant, but so far that hasn’t happened.

That day we also got a call from another set of elders who had been helping ward members salvage belongings from their flooded homes. They had been working in waist high flood water all day with drowned rats floating among the household items and wanted to know if there were any health risks to them. There were. I spent the next few hours learning all I could about the possibilities of contracting disease and then calling those missionaries who might be at risk with advice for prevention. So far, no one seems to have gotten sick from contaminated floodwaters though illness can occur up to twenty-one days after exposure to the most dangerous pathogen so I will be on the lookout for a while more.

In the early morning hours of January 13th the steep waterlogged hills in an area north of Rio gave way to an avalance of mud and debris that smashed down on three town and killed more than 1300 people, leaving over 14,000 homeless. This is said to be Brazil's greatest natural disaster on record. I am so sorry for them. Many members lost their homes but thankfully, all the missionaries were safely accounted for. Here in our mission we see places where slabs of sodden land have given way and slid downward but nothing comparable to the disaster in hilly Teresopolis. For the last week the weather has been sunny and we are drying out, but the rainy season continues through April so we shall see how it goes.

Christmas in the Mission

To all our loved ones and friends 'back home' Marsh and I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. This Christmas season we are especially grateful for the Atonement and perfect example of our Savior, Jesus Christ and we are so thankful that we can serve Him here as missionaries in Campinas Brazil. We hope that this coming year is filled with every good thing for you and your families.

We have really missed our family, our great kids and precious grandchildren this Christmas, but there were many things that have made this a good one for us. At first, it didn’t feel anything like Christmas and that's probably a blessing because I never got terribly homesick. It's summer here now and it was odd to hear 'I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas' and 'Frosty the Snowman'(in English)playing in the malls when outside it's humid and hot enough to melt concrete.


There were no Christmas decorations here in the mission home when we arrived so I went to the local Lojas Americanas (much like a crowded ‘five and dime’ store) and bought an artificial tree and some red and gold plastic bulbs. I strung the tree with tiny white lights, hung the ornaments, and added some pretty home-made bows. I put a simple wreath by the front door, set out a Nativity and a couple of cute Santa Clauses and a few candles and wahla! I was decorated. I think of my lovely home in Huntington Beach with its rooms full of Christmas decorations that take two full days to set up. I think of the hustle and bustle, the baking and gift wrapping, of card sending, and family get-togethers. I love every single part of Christmas and though our Christmas in the mission this year was much simpler, this was wonderful, too. I have a beautiful picture of Christ in the entry way that I look at many times a day and after all He’s the reason for Christmas and is the focus of our celebrating. I would like to import all our family, though. That’s what we both miss. No substitute for them, though the missionaries help to fill the hole.




We began to get involved in the Spirit of Christmas. Early in December one Saturday morning, Marsh and I joined ten of our elders at a busy plaza in downtown Campinas to sing carols and pass out Church literature. We set up posters and tables with free Book of Mormons, pamphlets and videos, then put on Santa hats and sang Portuguese Christmas songs and carols to the passing crowds. We had ten basses and tenors, and one soprano/alto (me). We sang till our throats were hoarse. The missionaries took turns singing or talking with people on the street. People were curious. Some stopped to listen, others took out their cameras and recorded us, many brushed off the missionaries and continued on their way, and 150 people set up appointments for the missionaries to come to their homes to teach them more about the Church. As I sang I watched our wonderful enthusiastic missionaries over and over approach the people hurrying by, and I wondered if those people had any idea how life changing this day could be for them, and what a precious gift was being offered, the best Christmas gift of all, the Gospel of the Savior. At least one hundred and fifty people will have that chance.


Our fifth transfer took place on Monday and Tuesday of last week. We sent eight wonderful missionaries home on Dec. 20 just in time for Christmas with their families, though some really wanted to stay. The next day, Dec. 21, we received eight new Brazilian elders, fresh from the CTM. We wanted to make their first Christmas away from home a sweet one. Both days were filled with special lunches, exit and arrival interviews, picture taking, lots of hugs and some tears, trips to the bus station for the departing missionaries, and for the arriving ones orientation and meeting of their first trainer companions.






On Wednesday and Thursday, Dec. 22 and 23, we divided the mission in half and held two Christmas Conferences. The missionaries had been looking forward to these conferences for weeks and they were wonderful days. The Conference was scheduled to begin at 10:30 AM and when Marsh and I arrived at the Stake Center at 9:30 there was already a huge crowd of missionaries waiting for the gates to be unlocked (all property here is surrounded by a high spiked metal fence). Some of our missionaries had a six or seven hour bus ride from their areas so they had come into Campinas the night before.

We began with a program in the Chapel. Five missionaries bore their testimonies and shared their feelings about Christmas. Then Marsh and I spoke. I had worked on my talk for days and my new language teacher had helped me translate it into Portuguese. The missionaries are so patient as I work to be understood. They are almost on the edges of their seats, smiling and nodding when I speak correctly, and grinning when I don’t. But they are right with me and I feel their love and encouragement. I told about two of my most wonderful Christmases, both of them memorable because of gifts; one that I gave when I was just seven or eight and one that I received as a young student at BYU, each a gift of service and the heart. Marsh talked of the Savior. He told about the joy he'd had on his first Christmas in the mission field as a very homesick new elder. He and his companion walked across town city at 3 AM on Christmas morning (he made sure to tell our missionaries that the rules were different then) to play Santa and bring Christmas to the four other American elders in his city. They hauled a little tree, decorations, record player, presents and food for a Christmas breakfast. They let themselves into the sleeping elder’s apartment, quietly set up the tree with presents underneath, started the bacon sizzling, then turned on soft Christmas music. The elders awoke, rubbed their eyes in dismay and one burly elder promptly burst into tears. I loved hearing the laughter and seeing the soft smiles and sweet expressions on the faces of our missionaries and as they listened to Marsh speak. There was a beautiful spirit in attendance. One of the sisters came up to the stand afterwards and said there had been angels in the room with us. I think so. They were all in white shirts and ties, and pretty dresses.




Following the program we served lunch in the cultural hall. We had made it festive with a lighted Christmas tree, garlands and bows, little sparkly lights and pots of pretty poinsettias on the tables. A member family catered a Christmas meal for us with two entrees, ‘Chicken Parmigiano’, and a crepe-like pancake wrapped around a hamburger filling with tomato-y sauce (closest thing to an enchilada that we’ll find here). No Brazilian lunch would be complete without big pots of rice and beans. We had cake and ice cream, too. But I think the missionaries liked best the plates of pineapple and watermelon slices and the bowls of fresh fruit piled high with kiwi, apples, and plums.


After lunch we quickly cleared the hall, set up chairs and had a talent show. Each Zone put together several numbers. There was every variety and level of talent. We sang along with quartets of carolers, laughed at silly skits, and watched a Brazilian elder do a great Michael Jackson impersonation complete with moon walking while the elders in his district provided hilarious sound effects. We listened to beautiful piano solos and a lovely rendition of ‘O Holy Night’ that made me think of Holly, and we clapped to fast and furious bluegrass fiddling by an American elder. Marsh and I even sang 'With Wondering Awe.' Pitch perfect or tone deaf off-key, it was all so much fun. I was most amazed at one elder's number. He is a serious, quiet, self-conscious young elder. He walked on stage alone looking very intense and nervous. The hoots and calls quieted down. He took off his shoes and socks. He took off his tie. He took off his name tag. I looked at Marsh. The hall was very quiet. And then he began to perform Tai Quan Dao. Jumps and thrusts, lunges and yells, spins and kicks. The room erupted in shouting and clapping. I would never have expected to see that come out of this elder. and it was awesome. He put his shoes back on, re-knotted his tie, attached his name tag and there he was again, our elder, now with a little extra something.

We ended the Conference singing carols. I don’t think there is anything that stirs my heart quite like hearing eighty-five enthusiastic young men and women, full of the spirit singing with all their hearts and voices. It thrills me every time I hear them. We closed with prayer and then had each missionary come forward to get a hug and a Christmas goody bag filled with chocolate chip cookies and brownies that I had baked, and a candy cane from the States, along with other treats. Then, the day was over and they were off to catch buses and keep appointments and make new contacts. On Thursday, we did it all over again with the other half of our mission. We had two great days with our 170 wonderful missionaries that I will always remember.

On Friday our usually empty house was filled to the brim with Christmas Eve guests. Marsh invited his Assistants and our four office elders to spend Christmas Eve with us, and to sleep overnight and have breakfast on Christmas morning. Elder C. was here, too. He was a great zone leader who had just been released the Tuesday before Christmas. He had asked to extend his mission and stay through Christmas but it wasn't possible. He is a convert of just a few years and is the only one in his family who is a member of the Church. His parents are divorced and his father completely disowned him for serving a mission and has nothing to do with him. He knew that Christmas at home meant drinking and he wanted a Christmas with the spirit of his mission. We invited him to come right back and spend Christmas here with us and he did, bringing his mother and her friend with him. We set the table for twelve.


I cooked a huge roast in my crock pot, peeled and mashed a zillion potatoes, slice a pot full of carrots, baked pão de queijo and cakes, and made enough gravy to feed an army. When Elder Olsen saw the food, he held his head in his hands and exclaimed, ‘Potatoes and GRAVY and no rice!’ Brazilians make great sauces but never gravy. Our four American elders were ecstatic. I should have made rice, too, because all those potatoes were gone in a flash, with a lot of rich gravy left over. We had Grandma Kathryn Tanner’s famous Hot Fudge Sauce and vanilla ice cream for dessert. The missionaries crave it.

After dinner we read the story of the Savior’s birth from the New Testament and sang carols. Elder C.'s mother took her turn reading aloud from the Scriptures. We closed with prayer and went to bed. All seven beds were in use, plus two couches and two mattresses that I dragged out of hiding. We used up every sheet and towel in the house. It was great.

Christmas morning I got up early to make an American pancake breakfast and found Elder Coelho listening to carols and reading his scriptures alone in the room where he had spent so much time in training meetings. The other elders were out studying on the patio. Good young men and great missionaries. I pulled out my big electric griddle and cooked up four large batches of pancakes. We slathered them with real butter, piled them high with sliced strawberries and fresh peaches, and drenched everything with our dwindling stock of Log Cabin Maple Syrup. I even bought a can of ‘Chantilly’ (whipped cream) for about 7 or 8 US dollars). The Elders ate and ate and ate some more. We had to roll them out of the kitchen.

The Assistants gave me a carved wooden ship with a favorite scripture printed on it and to Marsh, a beautiful, leather bound Portuguese triple combination with his name engraved on the front. The office elders gave us a gift basket with cake and candies and a framed photograph with the six of us at the Mission office. The best parts of their gifts were the letters they wrote us. Then the Elders left to visit their investigator families. Marsh and I loaded up our big SUV with late-arriving Christmas packages and drove off to play Papai Noel to the missionaries. We brought Elder C. along with us and he was so happy when we went to Jacaré and Perdões, two areas where he had just served. In one area we delivered the mail to the Zone Leaders who were spending Christmas at the home of a family whom Elder C. had baptized just three months earlier. There was a lot of love and joy that day.

The afternoon was hot and there was a pool party in full swing (not the elders!). It felt more like a Fourth of July celebration complete with a barbeque and Brazilian potato salad (carrots, peas and lots of mayo). We drove over 200 kilometers round trip and got home around 6pm. We fixed a late dinner of meat pies for our three guests and around 10:30 finally called some of our waiting family, and went to bed exhausted, but content.


Sunday morning we sent Elder C. on his way with a fond farewell and immediately drove off to speak in back-to-back Sacrament Meetings. It was nice to come home to a quiet house that afternoon, but I was very grateful for the good weeks we had had commemorating the Savior's birth. The spirit of Christmas is the same, no matter where you are, or how you celebrate. I look forward to next year when we get to do it all again. Marsh and I wish you all a wonderful New Year! Love, Colleen