I grew up in a family who lived and breathed adventure. I mean, who packs up their life and travels to a foreign country without knowing the language and goes to live with a Brazilian family who also doesn't speak English? And then go to the middle of the deep Amazon jungle and try to make contact with hostile native Indians? You have to have ADVENTURE as your middle name to do that, maybe even as your first name! Growing up like that me and my brothers were always into crazy things and doing things that most people never would attempt. More of those stories later though. This story is about one of our crazy, fun adventures we did for fun, not for life. My dad decided that it would be a good bonding thing to do a family fun adventure every year. Each year the adventure varied and was different but the goal was to create a memory and bond as a family. I'd say it definitely worked. This particular year we decided that we'd like to kayak down this river called Rio das Garca...
I married a Brazilian rodeo cowboy. He was a bull rider. Well, he tried to be at least. He wasn't very good at staying on the bulls for the whole 8 seconds. He was also a wheeler dealer and like to do trading and all sorts of deals. We won't go into some of the really frustrating deals he did, but one of them involved acquiring a herd of bucking bulls. He figured that if he couldn't be a champion bull rider like he dreamed, then he could be a stock contractor and put on rodeos. I liked that idea much better. However, he ended up going to ranches and bringing guys to try out the young bulls and see if they'd like to buck. They always made a day of it which included barbeque and plenty of beer. I guess they figured that if they drank enough it would make getting bucked off an unknown crazy bull a bit better. I definitely didn't approve of that part of it, but to be a supportive wife, I usually tagged along and gave my opinions on the bulls. The bulls that didn't ...
Missionary kids are a very unique type of people. There are actually books and studies out about them, although I haven't read too many. Actually any kid who grows up in a country that isn't their parents' native country is called a third culture kid. Missionary kids understand each other. They have a special bond that only they have. We didn't fit in except amongst ourselves. We weren't Brazilian and we weren't American. We didn't have the new clothes, the boyfriends, the shopping malls, the cliques, the video games, the tv and the school clubs. We had experiences that nobody else had. We had depth of knowledge, character and maturity. We knew several languages from a young age. We had seen things and experienced things that most people never would. It was very hard as a kid trying to fit in and find my identity, purpose and destiny. (I finally did, I think) Now I appreciate that childhood and everything that I experienced. Then, not quite so much. But t...
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