Brazil-Caca Pava

To Caca-Pava:
We stashed our duffels at the Sheraton in Porto Alegre and backpacked 5 hours up into the mountains by bus (more on the bus later). Quinn finally let me take out a camera at the bus station to grab some photos- apparently the bus station is a cess-pool for crime. It was dirty, hot, and filthy- but totally packed with action and people-watching opportunities. There are little buffets all over the bus station that I am sure are the #1 reason Pepto could make a killing in Brazil.

(Below) We opted for the "nicest" hotel in Caca Pava- which was a grave choice as this is the place where, when Q turned the lights on, I noticed bugs crawling across my face. Check out the portrait above the bed! Awe- the adventure. I'm pretty convinced I could stay in any European hostel after the Karton Hotel in Brazil- and that includes Cadiz, Spain (yep Spain study abroad friends- you heard me)!

(Below) We hit the town so Q could get oriented. Because it was Christmas day, everyone who had a car was just driving around on the streets. They kept passing us because we definitely looked out of place and were obviously a site worth repetition. Surprisingly, Q's avocado gellato was much better than my grape!

(Below) Q found his missionary apartment easily and we knew the Elders still lived there because of the yards and yards of sock line string on the roof. We were able to meet the elders at a new chapel rental and they walked us back to the apartment so Q could take a look.

Q was a bit disappointed that the elders didn't know the members and didn't want to come with us to meet the inactive converts Q baptized. They also used one room of the apartment for trash! The members we met even told us the Elders wouldn't speak Portuguese. Sad.

(Below) We were able to get a Taxi (after much trial on Christmas night) to take us to the middle of tim-buck-too to visit Q's favorite family. He met and baptized them 9 years ago! We walked in and immediately noticed they were wearing G's, had been to the temple, and had an Ensign open on the couch! Q was overwhelmed!!! We were a surprise for them and they started crying when they realized who was at their door. They let us into their HUMBLE home and we spent dinner (adventure) and the evening with them.

This was a big moment for me because I was able to see what kind of missionary Q had been through their eyes. It was beyond eye-opening and I won't be able to look at Q the same again. The way they spoke to him it was like Q was the Messiah returned from Dante's Inferno or something. Even though it was difficult to pretend to follow the conversation all night, this experience was unforgettable. In fact, if Q and I ever fight, all I have to do is think of this night and he automatically wins any disagreement. I was also floored by the happiness of a people who, according to American standards, have and live in nothing. What an example of why possessions should mean so little to us.

(Below) The next day some friends from the ward drove us around Caca-Pava to try and find three widows Q baptized a decade ago. They were 80-years-old when he met them so we were very surprised to find they were still alive. When we finally found them (after hours and hours of searching) we were delighted to find they were not only alive, but thriving and remembered Q the minute they saw him. More tears and me pretending to understand everything, and all of us being consumed by the moment. Even 40-year-old Angelica who has down-syndrome remembered Q!

Q's old branch president.

(Below) This amazing couple drove us around all day long. They took us to some WWII sites (what, Brazil participated in WWII???) and saw us off at the bus station.

(Below) Now about that miserably wretched bus ride:

Picture this: Back row, completely packed bus. Windows do NOT open (in fact, they are bolted shut), our seats are 1 foot away from a bathroom that NO ONE is shy about using. Add to that a heater pumping hot fumes onto our feet, humidity, and my thermometer that (I kid you not) reached 97 degrees!!!!!!!
Did I mention that the roads were curvy, I was 3 months prego, and some teenage boy must have eaten a dead skunk because he did not smell like he should be living?

At one point Q shouted out:
"LORD, HAVE MERCY ON US ALL!"
as he sprayed Axe body spray viciously into the air around us.

The pictures above speak for themselves.
5 hours of this!!!!
I thought I might die so I started composing my obituary 1/2 way into the trip.

Nicole Metcalf Hadley
Deceased.
Died on an ill-fated bus of Brazilian Flatulence-fumigation.