There are some interesting things that I've noticed about life in Brasilia...
- Picking your nose in public - no big deal... I've even seen adults pick it and eat it
- Being old or pregnant - good for more than just a seat on the subway... you also get your own grocery line and get to skip in line at banks and other places
- Body image - not an issue... I have seen more skin than I care to on a wide variety of body types
- Dentist booties - no bare shoes allowed... I'm assuming because there is a recognition that things around here are dirty.
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| Dentist booties!! |
There are others, for sure, but those are the ones that come to mind for now. Also, double rainbows are not entirely uncommon here. It's pretty fun.
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| Double Rainbow |
In other news, the staff at BIS were charged to choose joy this semester. That is a struggle for me. It always has been. I have tried to surround myself with joyful people, hoping that it might rub off on me. It still hasn't... it's as if it is supposed to come from God and not from others or something... go figure. I wish I was one of those people that could just wake up be grateful for each and every day and opportunity. I wish that came easily to me, but it doesn't. I'm willing to bet that it doesn't really come easy for any of the people I've encountered either, but, last I checked, it's pretty easy to idealize the experience of other people. For me, the fight for joy seems like punching one of those inflatable clown punching bag that pops back up and will hit you if you're not careful. Like this guy:
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| http://ii.worldmarket.com/fcgi-bin/iipsrv.fcgi?FIF=/images/worldmarket/source/26364_XXX_v1.tif&wid=2000&cvt=jpeg |
I fight for joy. I punch the clown. Then he pops back up (discontent, discord, comparison, gossip, sorrow, and so much more) and hits me when I lose focus. It's a constant fight. Sometimes I feel like I should be able to fight once and then just be joyful. But that's not the case. Other times I feel like I'm somehow less because I do have to keep fighting. But the clown only hits me when I lose focus. Focus on Jesus. Focus on the good in life. Focus on His faithfulness. Focus on how far I have come.
This thought is still in progress. But then, so am I.
