A Little Bit of the Amazon

In all the years that I have been coming to Brazil, I must confess that I had never visited what is arguably the most famous region of Brazil. I also must admit that until this recent trip, I was fairly (completely) ignorant about it. Amazonia (or the Amazon Region) is made of up 9 states in Brazil and makes up about 42% of the country. Within the Brazilian Methodist Church, Amazonia is considered a missionary region. One of the most well known ministries of the Methodist Church is the John Wesley Medical Boat that serves the indigenous river communities along the Amazon River. The boat leaves out of Manaus, Amazonas and operates between March and July each year. Each trip serves approximately 300+ people with much needed medical, dental and gynecological care.

The week after Easter, I joined a group of about 16 people representing multiple countries, the Florida Annual Conference and United Methodist Communications who spent 5 days together on the boat. We served in 3 different villages around the town of Autazes (Natal, Muritinga and Jacaré).  My role was serving as a translator to a pediatrician and when I was lucky enough,  playing with the kids. Even amid long hours and hot temperatures, I don't think I have ever experienced so much joy in one week. 

Indigenous people that live along the Amazon River are largely forgotten about in the larger political and social context of Brazil, making them extremely vulnerable. This is due largely in fact to their location (it took us 14 hours by boat to get to one of the communities that we served), but also lack of transportation (they literally rely on boats for everything- even “school boats” that pick the kids up along the river for school). If they need to get more serious medical treatment, it could take hours to get to the nearest municipality with a clinic or a day or two to get to the capital city of Manaus. River communities live at the mercy of the river, which can rise up to 30 feet (30 feet!!!) during the rainy season each year. Some have floating houses, others are built on stilts, and even still, some are forced to leave their homes every year for higher grounds until the water recedes and they can come home and start over. This obviously makes it extremely challenging for local infrastructure (like schools) to operate with regularity. For many of these communities, the boat is the primary if not only local medical care possible for them, even if it only comes a few times a year.

And even still, amidst the trials and difficulties of life, the overwhelming sentiment that these indigenous communities expressed was joy, hospitality and gratitude.  Families welcomed us into their homes (and fished baby alligators out of their kitchen window for us to see). They raced after our boat as we were leaving to bring us fruit from their gardens and shared openly about their culture and traditions. The children reminded me that across any border, culture or language, what ties us together is the universal language of laughter and play. They taught me that God was there, long before we (or the Portuguese colonizers) arrived and will remain there long after we have gone. The indigenous people of the Amazon may be forgotten by much of Brazil and they may be foreign to the rest of the world, but they will never been forgotten by God. They too, are part of God's incredible creation and reflect the face of God in a way that many of us would never have expected or imagined. They teach us that God is so much bigger than we will ever be able to comprehend and yet still cares intimately each and every one of God's children, even to the ends of the earth. Amen.

 Photo Credit: Armando Rodriguez

#mariellepresente

       A week ago today, women around the world received flowers and chocolate for International Women’s Day. Today, Brazil woke up with the news that Marielle Franco, a young, vibrant, black city councilwoman from Rio was assassinated in the street, along with her driver, Anderson Gomes.  Marielle was from the community Maré, which is composed of 16 favelas in Rio and is home to 130,000 people. She was 38 years old and dedicated her life to speaking out against the injustices that are daily committed against marginalized people like herself and was elected to Rio’s city council in 2016 with the 5th most votes of any candidate. In the brief 14 months of her term, she was a powerful activist for people of color, women and the working class who lived in the favelas of Rio. She was a necessary and pivotal voice from the community who advocated for people who are largely written off as “thugs” and “criminals”. 

A little over a month ago due to escalating violence, the Military Police of Brazil intervened in Rio, which has arguably only made the situation worse for multiple reasons including corruption and excessive police violence that mostly catches innocent people in the crosshairs. Two weeks ago, Marielle was elected to the commission that would accompany and regulate this military intervention. Last weekend she denounced the police for excessive violence against residents in the community. Last night she was murdered. Police reports show that the direction of the gunshot wound came from behind and knew exactly where she was sitting in the car despite tinted windows. They had most likely been followed from an event where Marielle had been meeting with women in the community. Nothing was stolen. There was no other motive besides wanting her dead. And yet there are some who are saying this morning, “See? She was killed by her own kind- thugs, the very people she defended. This is why we need the police intervention.”  

As I think about this vibrant, powerful black woman whose voice and life has been cut too short for obviously political reasons, it makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me sick to think of her 19 year old daughter who lost her mother. It makes me sick to think of the years of difference she could have made empowering the people of her community- inspiring perhaps a new generation of leaders and prophets that this world so desperately needs. But mostly I am sick to my stomach because I know a lot of powerful, amazing black women (and men) here in Brazil who have also dedicated their lives to fighting for the rights of all of God’s children, especially the most vulnerable. Women and men who have shaped me and taught me and who have become like family to me. And it chills me to think that this could happen to any one of them, simply because of the color of their skin or the depth of their convictions. 

At the same time, I am also deeply convicted by my privilege (as both an American and a white person) that allows me to be surprised that something like this could happen. As I process with friends and follow social media here in Brazil, one thing became very clear- this is not surprising to them. This is not unimaginable to them. They have had to live through this kind of violence their whole lives. (Side note- I have also heard time and time again that what is going on in Rio with this intervention is all too reminiscent of the start of the Military Dictatorship in the 60’s). Marginzalized communities deal with this every day (in the United States too), multiple times a day and are no longer surprised when the lives of their most prophetic voices are silenced or threatened. 

All that being said, I am also deeply encouraged and humbled by the hope, resilience and power of the people who are manifesting in solidarity with Marielle. Yes, there is deep pain and grief today. There are many tears that are being shed, mostly from those who now find one more reason to not feel safe in their own skin. But they will not stay there. They will lament. But they will not despair. They will continue to fight. They will continue to rise. They will continue to speak truth to power even though it may cost them dearly, though it may cost them everything.  

I know news from Brazil doesn’t always reach the US, and even though this story was published today in the New York Times, I just didn’t feel like it did it justice. So I wanted to share her story, as I felt like perhaps it was one small thing I could do at this moment to stand in solidarity with so many people that I love. 

“Those in power may be able to kill a few flowers, but they will never be able to stop the Spring.” - Che Guevara

#mariellepresente