Dear fellow RPCV’s,
My return visit to Brazil from June 5th –10th after an absence of 34 years was the most remarkable trip of my life, bar none! I say this even as my beloved Nancy kept the home fires burning. It was clear from the beginning she would not go. “This is a part of your life before we knew each other. I don’t speak Portuguese and don’t want to learn and I think it would all be way too stressful for me,” was her well thought out response. “This is old home week for you. Go and have a wonderful time,” were the words of permission I appreciated hearing!
The person who has been most instrumental in facilitating my return to Brazil and to whom I am most grateful is Dick Powell. On one of his more frequent Brazilian sojourns these recent years Dick honored my request to visit Baixo Guandu (BG) where I mostly served in the PC. I gave him the name of the Brazilian family who claimed me back then and their address. I had a number of my slides of friends and students made into 5”x 7” glossies, and he packed these as well.
Two years ago at this time he took a bus to BG and spent 5 hours looking for the folks who touched my heart long ago and with whom I lost contact. There was a large 4-story building on the site where the family house once stood and no Ferreira family. He went to the prefeitura and spoke to the prefeito getting a small lead. He took a picture of the 4-story structure and the house where the mayor thought one of the brothers lived part-time. No one with whom he spoke knew anyone in the photos and Dick, who hates to lose, returned to Vitoria empty-handed.
Days later when Dick was returning to Boston and then to Portland, he met a Brazilian family on the plane. When the couple heard he had been to BG the woman exclaimed, “I was born in BG and we just spent time there!” When Dick showed her my pictures she squealed in delight thinking she recognized herself in one of them! Then, she said it was her cousin whom she was in contact. Dick gave her my telephone number and later gave me hers where they lived and worked in New Hampshire. I called the woman over the summer of 2007 speaking with her briefly.
Then, last summer I received a telephone call on my cell, a man’s voice. I thought it was a crank call and hung up! Later he called again saying he was the husband of one of my Brazilian “sister’s,” Maria Emilia. She then got on the phone and with my feeble Portuguese we reconnected. Maria Emilia said she, along with her younger sister and two older brothers often spoke of me and wondered what I had been doing these past 34 years. She invited Nancy and me to visit them and we began corresponding via email.
This all lead to allowing myself to be “coached” by Maria Emilia on how to return to Brazil. In essence, I let go of my familiar take-charge role of tour director and followed her suggestions. So often I have felt that I had to “make something happen.” In feeling her caring I just let her lead and trusted all would be fine. And fine it sure was!
I spent three days in SP and then Maria Emilia, her husband, Michel and I flew to Vitoria where we hung out for two nights before driving to BG for two more. The last two days were spent in Vitoria.
The oldest of the sibs, Alvaro, age 61, a doctor, whom I had not seen since 1972 flew from Vitoria to SP to spend the first weekend with us. I was joyful reconnecting with him. He is kind, sweet, gentle and very bright. He picked me up early on a Sunday morning and almost 42 years later, I walked the cobblestones to the Convento da Penha in Villa Velha. The last view I had of Praia da Costa was April 1973 and all you could see was sand. Last week all you could see were highrise condos and apartments!!
While the schools where I taught in BG and Aimores remained, much had changed. The first pensao where I stayed was gone. The house I rented was replaced by a modern and lovely home. My girl friend’s home was also, no more. The quiet town of 6,800 had grown to 29,000.
What I am most moved by is relationship. I had no idea I touched their lives the way I did. Maria Emilia, age 54, told me she always thought of me as a grown man. “Looking back you actually were a kid of 22, straight out of the university, the only American for miles around living in a town of strangers!” They claimed me as their brother back then and never let go. It became evident to me that I had not let them go either.
Believe it or not I actually did fine with my Portuguese. Everyone was patient and I asked them to take on the role of tutor. I had to laugh at myself (I mean everybody else does, so I thought I would join the crowd!) I noticed that Maria Emilia’s last name is Kfouri, but Michel’s is Kfouri Filho. When I was in BG I thought, “Gosh, there sure are a lot of students with the same name, Filho.” I learned after 34 years that Filho is the same as our “Jr!.” Oh, well, sometimes I miss the obvious! No big deal…
Maria Emilia and Michel have promised to visit Nancy and me. Michel lectures every now and then in the States and they will come by for a few days when he does again. Alvaro and his wife, Penha, have done a tour from Boston to Canada and I think they just might venture to Georgia in the spring or fall. After all, today is forecasted to be 97 degrees with 87% humidity.
Anyway, my heart is full. When departing I was stuffing a number of gifts they gave Nancy and me in my luggage. The bag sure weighed a lot more on the return than going. One might think it was because of the carefully packed gifts, but actually it is because of the love of so many for this “used to be stranger” and his wife.
I am most blessed. Thank you for reading and for being part of my life back then.
Abraços com carinho,
Tim 
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