Mike Welch (a member of LBC) will be Working in São Paulo, Brazil, as part of a BMS Summer Team (August 2008), primarily pre-school work with street children aged 5 & 6, getting involved with local churches as much as possible including at a large evangelistic event, visiting families in the favelas (shantytowns) for fellowship, prayer & evangelism & also possibly running bible holiday club & teaching basic english.

Click here for the latest news from the Mike.

Latest News

27^th August 2008

Hi guys.

Well, as I had half expected, I had no further opportunity to get to an internet cafe, and as such I write this from my room in Blighty. The last few days of my time in Brazil were almost certainly the most hectic and most eventful, so this may be quite a lengthy update. I'm sure you can all bear with me, particularly if you've ploughed through my previous updates and bothered to open this one, and not just click delete. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Our entire stay in Brazil, we knew that the big event was the "impact day" - a day of evangelistic outreach, trying to get as many kids as possible to come down for a day of fun in the church. While team 2 had their impact day on Saturday 16th August, ours was the following week, the 23rd, just a couple of days before we were coming home. As such, we were very conscious of the fact that our entire time there was building up to this one day, and in our final week we had to not only prepare each day's drama, memory verse, songs, crafts and games - but also find the time to plan and prepare everything we intended to do on the impact day. As you would imagine, this addition to our already hectic schedule had us rather frantically beavering away whenever we could find a few moments to spare.

It was perhaps not ideal, then, that our only day off over the entire month should happen to fall on the Wednesday of this last week, and our church was absolutely adamant that we would do no work whatsoever - and, frankly, as knackered as we were, we did not put up a particularly strong fight. It seemed like there was an impossible amount of work to get done, but come that Wednesday, we refused to even think about it. And, to their credit, the church did a great job of distracting us. The first few hours were spent on the São Vicente coastline, the site of my previous coconut suppage. The beach is quite ludicrously huge, and, I'm told, is the longest in the world. The sand is sandy, and the water is really quite wet. It's a beach. To be marginally more specific - the sand has an odd sparkle to it, and as a result when it is carried in the ocean, it shines and shimmers as if it were speckled with glitter. It's rather nice. I spent pretty much my entire time in the ocean, successfully attempting to avoid dismemberment or decapitation by the local surfers.

Following our beach visit, we went to a staggeringly cheap all-you-can-eat buffet/carvery, and I sampled wild boar, which I highly recommend. I also sampled sitting in a restaurant in soggy trunks and t-shirt, which I don't. The management clearly couldn't care less, though, as long as the army of tourists were in their eatery and not the place across the road. Why, I'm not quite sure, because we only spent a few quid and ate an appalling amount of food.

Perhaps said appalling amount of food was partially responsible for the fun we had at the next stop on our day off, though, the "teleférico" - for a chair lift up the side of a mountain. Myself and pastor Andre, the pastor of team 2's church, were together for the journey. The chairlift, quite clearly, was designed with the transportation of people collectively of considerably less heft than myself and the pastor. This became clear to us a matter of seconds into our journey, as we approached the first few taller trees - and realised they were not, as would be ideal, below us. There may have been only a handful of words with which we could communicate, but it appears that hysterical laughter is universal. As is the mimed gesture to convey the message "frantically attempt to kick them down before they pull our lift upright and we plummet to our almost certain death." We were really quite bold, or, possibly, ridiculously stupid, though, and decided to also share a lift for the journey back down. The view at the top was not quite as exciting as the journey itself, but very, very beautiful. The imposing city, balanced and beautified by the stunning beach at it's border, the ocean as far as the eye can see, and the ever present mountains, covered in dense forest. I include a couple of photos of the view, but, of course, they are the palest of imitations.

We spent the afternoon in, without a shadow of a doubt, the best free zoo I have ever been to. With a lion roaring inches from our face, I told the Brazilians that the high point of my previous visit to a free zoo was a goat. They assumed I was joking. Particularly entertaining was the fact that many of the animals in the cages were also loose in the surrounding jungle, and as such you could be desperately peering into a cage getting excited at a flash of tail behind a rock, while 3 of the very same creature casually reclined, in plain site, on a branch behind you. I tried (and failed) to teach the parrots some English. I was assured by several members of my team that the monkeys weren't in fact happy to see me, as it would appear, but actually wanted to tear my face off. You'll be happy to hear that they did not. We whiled the evening away in a mall chatting and eating gringo burgers, and on returning to the house, couldn't resist but to do some preparations for impact. And a good thing too - it would become clear on the day itself that our preparation time was not only much needed, but also vastly insufficient.

Our first 2 days in Japui we were struck by how quiet the town was, it appeared to have a population somewhere in the region of 12. The population of Japui is in fact somewhere in the region of 10,000, although how they are crammed into so small a town is beyond me. We found out soon after the cause of the apparent ghost town, though - that the occupants refuse to do anything when it is raining. If it's raining, unless it is literally of absolute importance, they will not leave the house. On the rainy days, it was surprising to see 2 people on the whole length of a street at once. We were not particularly pleased to find, then, come the morning of the impact day, that it was raining. A couple of hundred invitations each to hand out, a couple of people to give them to. As it transpired, though, this proved a real blessing.

We split up into smaller groups to hand out the invitations, and while most of the teams had little choice but to largely concentrate on leaving piles of them in shops, our team had two of the PEPE teachers, and with their local knowledge, we were able instead to go door to door with our invites. We ended up seeing much of the town which we had not yet seen, including the very poorest areas. Barely accessible, clearly unsafe structures, housing dozens. We had seen similar housing in the most impoverished districts we had visited, but had not yet seen such poverty in the comparatively comfortable Japui. I was greatly surprised to find that there is so diverse a range of lifestyle within what is a very small town.

It occurred to us during our time visiting houses with leaflets that the rain would mean many children were stuck at home, and many parents would be eager to hand them off to someone else to entertain. Come 2 o' clock for the start of the service, the packed church, despite the weather, testified that this was clearly the case. We sang some songs, performed our drama, gave a little talk about how important it is to live for Jesus, and then the crafts started. It was a minute or so later we realised that our preparations were somewhat less than they could have been. It was very, very clear that we were, in short, a shambles. It was equally clear that to keep the quantity of kids who had arrived entertained and occupied for the entire day, we would be frantically tearing around for the duration. There wasn't enough space, there wasn't enough for them to do, and there wasn't enough materials. And then the bus arrived. Around 40 extra kids poured into the church, and headed straight for my table. I don't know the Portuguese for "will most of you please move on to another activity and return when this table has quietened down and we've prepared enough materials for you to have a go" and my frantic gesturing failed to get the message across with perfect clarity.

Needless to say, I did indeed spend the entire day charging around like a maniac, and I really couldn't be happier. The grin never left my face. Even in the catchily titled "throw wet sponges at the English" game, I was beaming like a lunatic. We had to order 100 extra ice lollies at the last minute to make sure we had enough, the day could scarcely have been a bigger success. One remarkable (and much appreciated) thing was quite how patient the Brazilian kids are. I can imagine few British kids waiting around for quarter of an hour while you cut up some crepe paper for them without a hint of protest or agitation, but there were a good 2 dozen or so kids who did just that. Despite the rain, despite our lack of adequate preparation, despite there being far more children than we had expected and really had the resources to handle, and despite our almost complete inability to communicate with them - the day went brilliantly. Almost as if someone was working behind the scenes...

The evening service included performances from the PEPE kids, quite ridiculously cute, and the cause of many tears. It seemed that we were starting our long goodbye, and although many of the Brazilians told us "tomorrow is the time to cry" we refused to listen, and many of them failed to follow their own advice.

The next morning, we had prepared to lead the Sunday school for the children. Following the impact day, there was about 3 times as many children in the church than ever before, many of them having had no contact with the church whatsoever prior to impact. There were so many, in fact, that rather than the kids moving through to the classrooms for teaching, as would usually be the case, the adults had to leave them in the main hall and move through to the classrooms themselves. The success of impact could not have been demonstrated more clearly, and we were all elated.

The evening service was run by us, and, amazingly, went smoothly. The church gave us gifts and everyone said goodbye, and there was a great deal of agony all round. The best pizzas ever for tea, which didn't quite cover over the agony, and virtually no sleep as we stayed up cleaning. Pizza for breakfast, with a side serving of agony, and most agonising of all, the drawn out goodbyes as we made our way to the bus. It put our previous agonies to shame. And then the flight.

Agony would hardly be a surprise, given that, yet again, they had not managed to get me a seat with extra leg room. By some staggering degree of "luck" however, the woman next to me went to the toilet before we took off, and ran into someone she knew. Someone in business class. Someone who wanted to sit next to her. Not only did I have the vast deal of extra leg room afforded by simply being in the class up - but what's more, it was a business class extra leg room seat. I had more room than I could even use. I was feeling pretty chuffed, as the steward came round offering newspapers and drinks for the flight. One sip of my coffee, though, and I froze. The look of horror on my face was, I'm sure, priceless. After a minute or so of staring at the lukewarm, flavourless offering before me, though, I couldn't help but start to chuckle. We may have only just left the ground, but as far as I was concerned, I was back in England.

It's not all bad, though. Most of you are here, for starters. Don't expect me to stick around, mind...

Catch you later.

Miguel.

15^th August 2008

Hey guys.

Well, having moved into the house at Japui we not only have no net access at home, but similarly we have very little free time in order to go to a net cafe, hence the significant delay since my last mail. As you may well imagine, far, far, far too much has happened for me to really cover without a ridiculously long mail. I shall have to attempt to summaries quite severely.

In my last few days at the mission house, we had an opportunity to go out into the city centre itself, to visit gospel street. The city is in many ways indistinguishable from any major city in the UK - aside from, primarily, the fact that there's a street devoted exclusively to Christian shops, and even a few Christian malls. Vast quantities of quite appalling tat on display, almost certainly the widest array of cheesy God-focused knick knacks on the face of the planet, and thoroughly entertaining to God botherer and heathen alike, I'm sure. And then there were the CD's... CD's which cost a great deal of money over here, and which you can't even get particularly cheap online, for absolute peanuts. I restrained myself to only buying 12. The Brazilians were thoroughly amused.

The ride home started with one of the most uncomfortable situations an immense middle class Englishman can be faced with. I was instructed to force my way onto a bus and ensure the rest of my team got on, in certain knowledge that there was no way near enough space for all of the people waiting to get on. Now, this may shock some of you to your core - but I'm really quite good at forcing my way into places. And I also tend to do what I'm told. If you have never had a mob of irate Brazilian women bellowing at you from the top of their lungs from inches away, and for some unfathomable reason you feel the need to experience it, I recommend poor bus etiquette.

The last day at the house was very odd indeed, because of the mixed emotions of breaking apart the group and no longer spending time with half of the people we had been living with, not to mention the local team we had been working with who we would barely (or possibly never) see again - and the sure knowledge that we were actually getting started, that we were about to get down to doing what we came for in the first place.

And so, we head off to our churches. The bus drive took us through without a shadow of a doubt the most beautiful landscape I have ever seen in my life. Truly staggering. driving down the side of a mountain, with what appeared to be (to English eyes) a jungle to the left of me, the mountain sweeping away to the right, clouds far below, ocean on the horizon - neither words nor even pictures could capture the scene, but with any luck it will be permanently etched upon my mind. It was exhilarating just to be driving through such a scene, so stunning as to seem slightly unreal. And then we saw the favelas. A few hundred feet of forest torn down, every inch crammed with the very same substandard, shambolic housing we had seen in the city itself. It was so jarring to see blatant, overwhelming poverty, transplanted into such a perfect scene, that I was brought back down to earth in an instant. It was clear that however stunning the surroundings, it was of no significance to the inhabitants of these communities, eaking out an existence in desperate squalor.

It wasn't until considerably later it would become clear quite how little it means to them, though. The locals told us how much they would love to live in England - "because you have grass." We pointed to the mountainside, the forests, the sun high in the sky, and the coastline just around the corner, and they were still adamant that, quite literally, the grass was greener on our side of the pond. We assured them they were mad.

That scene on the mountain really has summed up a great deal of our experiences here. So much about the lifestyle we've seen is so enviable, the community is warm and loving, the church is vibrant and exciting, the surroundings couldn't be better and the weather... Well, the weather is variable. We had a good 4 days of virtually non-stop torrential rain. But then, when it's sunny, it's as sunny as anyone in their right mind would ever want it. Regardless - there are so many reasons I would absolutely love to live here. But of course, that's not the whole picture. Scratch the surface and you find the same problems we found in the city. Dozens of people to a house, the vast majority of the town living in ridiculously cramped conditions. Many of the children clearly undernourished, many of them not knowing who their fathers are and with mothers struggling to cope, and many of those mothers feeling as if any hope they have for their children is futile. The PEPE preschool programme has been such a blessing to this community, and we have met several mothers who are only just seeing that their children can still expect to achieve something with their life.

There is so, so, so much more I could tell you. The 6 year old's birthday party which went on 'til midnight... With beer. And 50 cent on the stereo. Standing knee high in the ocean supping from a coconut. Playing football against what was very clearly the Brazilian reserve squad. Pretending to be beaten up by girls. Pretending to be a girl. I could go on. Were it not for the fact that I have very little time remaining. And, of course, that I could quite possibly go on for ever.

I shall have much more to tell when I return. I make no promises as to when my next update will be, but with any luck I won't have quite as much to cover. And it will be rational to attempt a somewhat more complete summary.

Catch you later.

7^th August 2008

Howdy.

Well, today wasn't a particularly busy day, but as you might imagine, my updates tend to be far from exhaustive, and there's much which I'm sure will help to paint a picture of my time here which I didn't bother to mention as of yet.

When I first walked out of the airport, there was something rather odd, the strangest smell. From the amount of cars and the odour's potency it was clearly the pollution, but it really didn't smell the same as at home! I had assumed it was my imagination, but I have since discovered that a great deal of the cars actually run on an alcohol-based fuel. It gives the fumes an odd, slightly sweet tang to them. Before I discovered as much, I had noticed on many occasions the petrol stations listing a price for "alcool" and had been slightly amused that one of their brands had such a similar name to alcohol. It had never occurred to me to ask whether it actually meant alcohol, because it seemed like such a daft question...

Yesterday's time with the young guys in the community was great. Aside from singing the English songs which they knew, we managed to have quite a conversation, to get a real rapport going - if only through an interpreter, of course. They were talking about the problems they have over here with teen pregnancy and excessive alcohol use, and wondered whether we had similar problems back in the UK. It was really quite odd, given the circumstances, that we had to tell them that in fact it was almost certainly worse in the UK in both cases. Particularly in the case of alcohol use, they expressed a real concern when they heard about the attitude towards drinking of an average teenager in the UK.

Similarly, I was speaking with our Portuguese teacher today, and she told me that her church and family always remember Britain in their prayers, and have serious concerns about the state of our society and the strength of our church communities. She was very aware of the lukewarm nature of many churches in the UK, and when I told her we often seem to ignore the demands of Christianity on our life for the sake of not challenging the status quo, she simply responded with a knowing nod. It struck me that until I discovered I was headed out to Brazil, I couldn't have told you the first thing about the situation over here, in terms of quality of life, social issues or vibrancy of faith - and yet she clearly felt it was her duty to keep an eye on us.

I suppose it's rather early to be considering my return - but I was also thinking today about what it will be like when I'm back in the UK. My life there, as I recall it, seems oddly alien to me - and the concept of returning to life in ignorance (or, rather, living as if I were ignorant) of the trials of life on the poverty line seems utterly bleak. But enough of such talk! I couldn't be happier to be out here, I know that I've seen nothing yet, and I can't wait to find out what's around the corner. I get the distinct impression that it will be rather staggering - and will leave me entirely unable to return to the status quo.

Here's hoping.

Mike

6^th August 2008

Oi!

Glad to say, another busy day. I'm really quite knackered, actually, so this will be considerably shorter than my previous updates.

It was our first contact with kids in a PEPE class today, and they were, as expected, ridiculously cute. I'm sure you all believe me, but if not - I attach exhibit A for your consideration. We had so much fun with them, it was fantastic. I got to shout quite a lot, for starters, which is always good.

The afternoon saw us visiting families in the communities for the first time, which went really well. I ended up giving my testimony rather on the spur of the moment, and I think it went across really well. We ended up hidden away in one of their houses considerably longer than planned, because a torrential downpour had rather suddenly started. It had been by a long way the sunniest day so far, and we were rather caught by surprise. We also had some time with five young guys from the community, and we spent a while singing songs with them which was great. I was left imagining how hard it must be for them to keep their faith in a society with morals frequently eroded to the point of non-existance.

Well, I can barely keep my eyes open, so I guess I'll leave it there. Tomorrow we've got more Portuguese lessons, and as far as I know nothing else major - so I doubt I'll be updating again 'til Thursday at the earliest. But we shall see.

Knackered but happy,

Mike

5^th August 2008

Hey guys!

I'm sure I'm going to run out of snappy descriptions for my updates soon enough. I'm surprised I ended up leaving it for a full two days, and I suppose it means I've got a lot to cover.

Firstly, and almost certainly least importantly - the much fabled Guarana totally lives up to the hype. I've described it as "like red bull but much, much nicer. And cheap." but tend to simply go with "good stuff!" which it really, really is. I might be slightly addicted, but I'm making a point of cutting down. Even aside from exploration into new soft drink territory, though, there has been a great deal going on. I had wondered whether "charm" was quite the right word to describe the city in my previous mail - but having seen a great deal more, I can't think of a better way of putting it. Admittedly, it might only be the charm of a toothless old man, seconds away from swiping your wallet - but it's an undeniable charm, nonetheless.

The side of the city which I had seen prior to the last mail was largely the wealthier parts, with only hints at the poverty which I knew was present. I know that I'm in no position to judge anyone for living comfortably, but there was something I found so repugnant about millionaires barricading themselves between security systems which clearly cost more then many of the inhabitants of the city will ever see in their life, and I couldn't help but be slightly appalled. Having seen more of the other side, I see things differently - although still couldn't condone the way they choose to live. One of the most striking thing is that the people of the "communities" (I have been informed that "favela" is a term best avoided for the offence it, understandably enough, can cause) in large part are not at all resentful of their lot. I imagine it is in no small part because of the strength of their faith - but it has been immediately clear that everyone I've met from the communities loves life, and is deeply grateful for what little they have.

Walking over to church in the community yesterday morning was a very bizarre experience indeed. I was dressed up for church, as we'd been informed was appropriate, walking along a dirt track, alongside a "stream" which served as an open sewer. On the other side was a row of shacks which I could only assume had been abandoned, with a wall or two missing from each. This meant that I could see inside, and as I glanced over at one I saw a torn sheet which appeared to have once served as the most flimsy and basic of "carpets" over the bare earth. Although it seemed that this particular home was no longer occupied, it was obvious that there would be little or no difference between it and those which still were. This having been more or less the first thing I saw managed to bring home the reality of life for those who occupied the communities in an incredibly potent way. I found it hard to bring myself to look around a great deal more - partly because it was so difficult for me to see, and partly because it felt deeply invasive to have such an insight into the kind of lives these people are virtually guaranteed to be trapped with until the day they die. As much as I don't like wearing smart clothes anyway, I have rarely felt less comfortable with how I was presenting myself. You cannot help but feel challenged when you're strolling along in some of the best clothes you own, surrounded by a poverty unlike anything you've seen before.

And so, we arrived at church. For breakfast. Bread & butter, cake & coffee, and as ragtag a congregation as you could ever come across, primarily made up of a dozen or so boys around 8 years old, eagerly tucking in. We were informed afterwords that for many of them, it would be the only meal they could be sure of that day - watching them chat with each other and play, though, there wasn't a thing to set them apart from kids anywhere else in the world. I could have been watching my own nephews. To start the service, we went to the front to sing them all a song - "Our God is a Great Big God" complete with exuberant actions. We managed to get people to join in a little, and the kids clearly loved it. We were very surprised, though, to find we were leaving immediately afterwords - not even staying for the service. As we stood outside heading off, there were 4 or 5 leaning out of the windows at the top of the building yelling out "AH GAH IS A GRAH BIG BAR!" which was as cute as it was hilarious. Couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that we weren't seeing the actual service, though, but that could wait.

And so we headed off on the bus to a street market in a part of the city called "Enbu". It helped us to get a much better idea of quite how ridiculously huge the city is, and we saw loads which we hadn't been past before. The market was absolutely massive, and we had a great time picking up a few souvenirs and wondering why on earth anyone would dream of buying half the stuff there. We also sampled a brazilian delicacy, the "brigadeiro", condensed milk mixed with chocolate & covered in sprinkles. It was nice, but quite ridiculously gloopy and stodgy, and I'm fairly certain that 3 would kill a man.

The evening saw us heading back to church for the second service. We were under the impression that it had been agreed that one of us would be giving a testimony (which the group had decided would be myself) and we would be singing another song. It would transpire that they had no idea, and, in fact, that even our BMS contact at the church didn't realise. When I told her I was going to be giving my testimony, she hurried me through to the back room and told me that I should write down what I was going to say. I casually assured her that I had given it plenty of times before and would be fine just speaking from my heart - and she explained that I had to write down what I wanted to say in order for a translation to be worked out beforehand. I had assumed I could just speak and the translation would be done on the fly - this was apparently impossible. It became clear that much of what I would usually say would be lost in translation or was very difficult to translate, so we really had to work it down to the bare bones.

Our BMS contact stood up at the end of the service and explained that I was going to be giving my testimony, and I headed up to the stage. I really don't see how it could have gone much better. The emotion came through regardless of the language barrier, and it was obvious that many of the people present were surprised and delighted by my story. We also sang "All I Once Held Dear", one of my favourite songs, and the response was explosive! We were all very pleased with how it went. After the service, one woman in particular came across to tell me that my story encouraged her, and it was deeply, deeply humbling.

Today has almost entirely consisted of language lessons, and hopefully some of it might even have wedged itself in. Not a great deal more to it than that, really, and this has clearly been lengthy enough as it is - so I shall leave it at that. Tomorrow will see us meeting PEPE kids for the first time and seeing how the classes work, so no doubt I will have another update to send off tomorrow.

Boa Noite!

Mike

2^nd August 2008

Bom dia!

Well, as you may have gathered, the plane got in just fine. So that's one less thing to worry about at least. There was a slight problem in the form of my seat with extra leg room. Everything was exactly as expected, except for the extra leg room. So there was no problem with the seat itself, then.

All said and done, though, it could have been much worse. I was on the aisle, which helped, and as it was overnight most people were sleeping and it was easy enough for me to get up and walk around - and being that it was BA, I did at least have a just about acceptable amount of leg room in the first place. If I had been on a budget airline it would have been an absolute nightmare - but as it was, it was just a bit of an inconvenience. An hour and a half before the flight ended I discovered the fold down seat for waiting to use the toilet, with approximately 900% more leg room than my own. If I'm lumbered in a similar position on my way back, then, I'll be claiming it as my own for the duration. It will get me dodgy looks, no doubt, but then, I get a fair few of them as it is.

We had some seriously last minute arrivals from our team members, though - one member of my own mini-team arriving the very second we were about to head up to departures. The few who cut it so fine elicited such a jubilant response from me, though, that I'm sure they'll be aiming to do the same again.

First impressions of Sao Paolo were rather mixed. The airport (and a great deal of the city itself, really) were surprisingly packed with traffic, given that it was 5am when we arrived. The resulting smog was the first thing that hits you - a bit of a stench, really. The city has a really ramshackle feel to it - it appears that favourable locations for property have been developed into a wide range of housing, businesses and hotels, from shabby little affairs to ludicrously impressive ones - and that the spaces in between have been claimed entirely at random by anyone who cares to throw a building together. The mix of slum housing and more solid constructions is quite odd, I had expected the slums to be grouped together a great deal more, but from what I saw on the drive over they really are all over the place, in tiny little pockets. All of the city that I've seen has an almost half finished feel to it, what with the seemingly temporary constructions (which may well be permanent homes), the abandoned and dilapidated buildings, and the large areas cleared and ready to be built up.

That said, there's also much about the city which has a real charm to it. That and the gorgeous weather has, on the whole, left me with a rather favourable impression, for the time being, at least. The convenient thing about having a PC in the mission centre is that I can take a picture and stick it straight on. The 2 attached images are my view from the PC. Not bad at all, I'm sure you'll agree.

Well, I'm about to have my first cup of proper brazillian style coffee - so assuming once I've tasted it I can tear myself away long enough, I imagine I'll be sending another update either tonight or tomorrow evening. Tonight the only planned activity is a tour of the local neighbourhood, but tomorrow we've got a packed day, so it might be best to keep the two seperate.

Tchau!

31^st July 2008

So, we're pretty much there, then. As is to be expected, I'm getting quite ludicrously excited. The flight is tomorrow evening, but I'm heading down to brum this afternoon to say goodbye to folks, and staying the night there, then heading down to Heathrow on Friday. The flight is 12 hours, but the time difference is only actually -3 hours. Although because of DST it's -4 hours. Which confused me no end. It's by some measure the longest flight I'll have ever been on, and I'm expecting abject awfulness. So there is at least the possibility of a pleasant surprise. I'll let you know whether the flight socks have any noticable effect. I somewhat doubt it.

Apparently, the mission centre has internet access, and as we'll be heading there straight from the airport I should be able to let you know I've got there OK, and give you some first impressions of the city. I'm expecting a pretty impressive place, and I can't imagine that for most part the favelas (slums) are going to encroach on the skyscrapers, shops and restaraunts. It's clearly going to be powerfully striking, though, in those places were the line is so starkly drawn between wealth and poverty.

Well, I'd better get back to letting mum do all the packing. I've got an hour and a half to ensure that I've forgotten all the essentials, so that she can spend our last half hour rushing around getting everything together. I know what keeps her happy.

Next time I email you, I'll be on a different continent. And very, very hot indeed.

Mike

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