i realize it has been 2 months. my excuse? i can never choose what to write about. should i express my excitement, my recent crying spell, nun stories, the glorious adventures i have had, my depression over circumstances at times or the hope i feel overall?

today, nuns.

on wednesday mornings we clean the Missionaries of Charity like proffesionals. it´s all window washing (which are just heavily painted wooden shutters that stay open. i love that they stay open) in the chapel and in the big dining hall, washing loads of clothes and sheets by hand for my favorite little men who hold my hand and sing to me in portuguese and call me, "my love", helping in the kitchen with little ladies who stun me with their beauty because they live lives of such service and cook together here every week only to zoom off in their car together like teenage girls and come back the next week. There are other tasks but these are my favorite and most practiced by myself and Jenn.

As I was washing the shutters of the dining hall, I could hear the ladies in the kitchen chanting their prayers and they echoed far into every area of the home where any number of things were going on. Their chants are always like music to me; never distracting because unless I try hard, I can´t understand their Portuguese. I pray too as they chant; I pray for my friends at home, I thank God for beauty, I pray for my new friends on the streets that they would know how much they are loved and for little Renan at Dora´s who clings to me tight every time I have to leave (oh how i wish i could take him home with me and give him as much attention as he needs). As I look out the window I am cleaning I can see my favorite little nun; the one from Rwanda.. the giggly one with a big smile and a ridiculously endearing accent who wants me to teach her to dance. She is pushing big garbage bags full of clothes for the next group of street men who come in, down the stairs... giggling every time as they hit the ground with a thunk.

At 11:30, my sweet friend Maria Elena, who says to me everytime she sees me, "oohh!! i am so glad to meet you!!!" (and showers me with kisses), rings the lunch bell off the stoop outside the kitchen. My hard-working friends come from upstairs and from downstairs and we all get ushered into the kitchen where they serve us, and we sit at lunch drinking caju juice. I ask Maria Elena about her children and she returns the questions with ones about what I do and don´t have in the states.

I certainly don´t have this, and I will miss it greatly.

///and I plan on getting my favorite nun (can i have a favorite nun?) from Rwanda to teach ME how to dance instead because I feel pretty certain that she has better moves. ///