Levando Esperanca (Bringing Hope)

Last weekend, we three Americans made the long hike back up Serrinha’s ladder. And we did it at night. There was some mix up with information about the bus we were supposed to take from Sobral to Serrinha. When we arrived at the pick up spot, we found not a bus, but a van. AND about 20 people already waiting to get on (an easy fit in Brasil). Even if we hadn’t had our camping backpacks we probably wouldn’t have fit, so it was looking rather dismal, and no one wanted to help us. The conversation that followed went about like this (in Portuguese of course):

John, “Is this the 4 o’clock bus to Taperuaba?”

Brasilian, “Yep.”

“Is there another one”

“Nope”

“I was told there was going to be a bus, not a mini-van”

“Well, you’ll have to talk to the owner of the van if you want to get on”

“Ok, where is he?”

“Over there” points vaguely across the street.

“What does he look like?”

“Oh… you know… a guy.”

At that point it became pretty clear that the waiting Brasilians had sized-up us and our packs and decided they didn’t really want us on the bus. Surprising to me, because I’m used to the Brasilian phrase “Dar um jeito” which pretty much means “we’ll find a way.” So John, with his amazing connections, called City Hall, talked to his important friend Alex and Alex called a different bus that had been hired to take teachers to and from a conference. This bus had already left and was about 15 min outside of the city. He actually got it to turn around and pick us up! It was practically empty, a MUCH more comfortable ride than trying to squish into that little van. That’s more like the Brasilian hospitality I’m used to :o)

So, long story short, we arrived in Valsores (the city at the bottom of the hill) around 6:30 (already dark), and started hiking up at 7. It’s been raining so the road is filled with erosion run-off. Some cracks in the trail were 4 or 5 feet deep. We all have head lamps, so it was fine. We were all sweating like pigs the whole way up. I mean literally dripping. I think it was more humid than during the day and there wasn’t even a hint of a breeze. Oh, and we carried our packs up this time instead of loading them on a donkey. They probably only weighed 25 or 30 pounds, but when you’re hiking straight up a mountain, it sure feels like more. So, we just took it slowly, stopped every once in a while to look up and out. The lights from the cities below were like a reflection of the bright stars above us. Beautiful.

We were at the school (where we put up our tent) around 9 and there were already people there. I forgot to mention this past weekend was the “rejuvenation mass” that I wrote about in an earlier post. We went up there to take part in the celebration. The brothers who celebrated the mass were already at the school when we got there. There’s a shortage of priests in Brasil, just like any country, and so the community got a hold of a group of… monks, I guess you would call them. Alexandre and Edison decided to hike up and take part. Apart from having a shortage of priests, they were hard-pressed to find a priest that would be willing to hike up the 800m to the top. Several said they would go if they were paid $150R…so Alexandre and Edison were the best option. They were careful to call it a “celebration” since it wasn’t a complete mass, we used pre-consecrated hosts.

From beginning to end, it was a simple and beautiful weekend. The Holy Eucharist was kept locked in the school office with a candle burning. Since Andy and I spent Friday night in the school, we changed the candles when they burnt out, and it created a sacred space where we could do our nightly prayers. That evening we sat outside, listening to the frogs, and talked to the brothers. Alexandre listened attentively as John, Ribamar and Mauro told stories of what Serrinha used to be like, when the families were together. They talked about what it’s like now… separated and dry. Actually it’s been raining, so the whole area is super green, thanks be to God. And they talked about the future, the need for the cisterns and underground dam, and the hope for a road that someday will reunite everyone.

The following morning, during the celebration, it became apparent that Alexandre took to heart all that he had heard. A simple alter was constructed on a table in the school and around 50 people crowded inside and outside the building to attend the celebration. It’s a different picture than mass in the US. Imagine adults sitting in school desks in a semi-circle around the classroom. Children peak in through the windows from outside, and often run inside to sit on someone’s lap. People are standing and sitting and nursing and hushing and laughing and crying. There are old and young, women and men, brown and white…and yet everyone is there for the same reason: to bring comfort and hope to each other.

Community members read the bible passages and the brothers lead the congregation in prayer and song. Alexandre stood up to give a homily and did a fantastic job. Ultimately our hope lies in Jesus, he said. He wove in parts of the readings with stories he had heard from the night before. He told of brave men who suffered to bring up all the materials to construct the school that was now closed. He made people laugh as they remembered how Cid (the governor) landed his helicopter on a giant rock up there to visit the people. Tears fell as he related how difficult it is now to remain a community. He even said that John, Andy and I were living symbols of hope, that we were there to show that Serrinha is a place worth believing in and hoping for…The most humbling experience of my life…As he was speaking it started to rain. Rain here is the ultimate symbol of hope. It means that the crops will grow. It means the children will be fed. It means the animals won’t starve. It means that all their work will literally bear fruit. As the rain trickles down into the ground to water the crops and stimulate growth it refreshes to soul too. What a beautiful image.

The sign of peace was a giant hug-fest, and I don’t think my smile could have stretched any further than it did. We shook hands and hugged everybody. Some people we had known for a couple weeks, others we had met just that day. It didn’t matter. Everyone felt like family. Afterwards there was a big lunch with chicken and pasta and rice and beans. We talked for hours with people of the community. Andy even spoke English with a couple of the young men who are taking classes (that made him happy). I divided my time between conversation and taking pictures of half-naked babies dancing in the rain. Judging by the smiles and laughter I heard during lunch, I would say the celebration was a great success. Now Andy and I have an idea of what it must have been like 5 or 6 years ago. It was wonderful to see everyone together.

I don’t know if they’ll ever get a road. John says it’s unlikely but he’s going to try hard to make it happen. I don’t know if the families will ever live together up top again. Maybe the men working now will be the last generation of farmers in Serrinha. Regardless, it was an honor and a joy to take part in the service. A service that brought the hope of better days.