A post by Rachel Kornfield
So, off and on all week I’ve been intending to post to the blog, and somehow, never gotten around to it. I also wanted to read what was already there, curious to see our experiences through different teammates’ perspectives. As I did so just now, I found tears leaping to my eyes over and over at their eloquent descriptions of precious, beautiful, and sad moments.
I have been pleased this week to find that my Portuguese – and English – seemed to flow with only a few awkward pauses of “how do you say that in that language again?” These last two days (Saturday and Sunday), I had the opportunity to translate for Leslie Thyberg at the Valentina VBS as we led group after group of kids in fifteen to forty-five minutes of games. Fifteen to forty-five, I say, because the twenty we were originally asked to prepare rarely seemed to work according to schedule. No matter – Leslie is a master of coming up with last minute improvisations, ideas, and variations. Together we made a formidable team, overcoming the wind-blown sand that filled our clothes, teeth and hair (our “playground” was a sandy area in front of the church, about a quarter of the size of a basketball court), the shyness of the 3-4 year olds, the rambunctiousness of the 7-9 year olds, and the fact that we never really knew how much time we had left. The kids loved games as simple as duck-duck-goose and as creative as knocking over sand-filled-pop-bottle “bowling pins” with coconuts. Go Leslie!
Translation-wise, the highlight came Sunday night, when I was asked to interpret the sermon for the church service. Although my initial reaction was, “of course, I’d love to help,” as time went on and the sermon got closer I became increasingly unsure if I had made the right decision. Shortly before the service, Brian commented, “you’ve been translating hard all day, if you want a break, I want to make sure you know there are other options.” I reassured him that I would be fine, and then had plenty of time during the first half of the service to wonder if that was wise. Although I was still adrenaline-filled, I was tired, and in the middle of a homily, in front of the whole church and mission-trip community, is an awkward time to stumble for words, especially if there are other people sitting close-by who might translate better. I asked that the Lord might help me glorify Him. Pastor Gustavo surprised me at the beginning of the homily by praying that the translation would go smoothly, and I felt something in me relax. With minimal difficulty, we found our stride, and it was one of the smoother translation jobs I can remember, and a sermon well worth translating. Thank you, God!
Relationship-wise, there’s more to say than can be written here. I am so grateful for the Brazilian friends I have made this week, and also for the American ones, since I didn’t know most of the members of the mission’s team hardly at all when the trip started. It has truly been a pleasure to get to know them. Now, however, I better go, as people are gathering for a final moment of fellowship… over Brazilian pizza. Yum
