Updates from October, 2011 Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • ivanildotrindade 12:18 am on October 23, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , amazon bill, gospel, great soccer player, parasite medicine,   

    How parasite medicine saved me 

    I wasn’t there, but I am told that before I was born, my dad had two wishes — first, that my mom would have a boy; secondly, that he would be a great soccer player. Now think about the variants here: a girl with no soccer skills, a girl who would be great at the game, a boy who was a soccer genius or one who couldn’t even play goalie.  Obviously, my dad got the last variant, which is not bad, considering the law of statistics, though I have to say I wasn’t that bad, but certainly not “great.”

    If God had wanted me to make my fortunes in the “beautiful game,” He would have sent a soccer coach into my little hut on the Amazon. Instead, he sent us an American who perhaps had not even seen a soccer ball in his life. The man used to go up and down the many tributaries of the Amazon, sharing Christ with some of the “least of these,” because, as he told me the story, during World War II, he was scared that the Germans might sink the ship where he was serving, so he promised God that, if he survived the war, he would dedicate his life to share the good news of Christ with people who lived in remote villages like the ones he had just seen somewhere in the world.

    And whoever heard of someone keeping a promise that was made under duress at a time when you feared for your life? I guess even God might give you a homework pass on that one. But not Bill Burk, self-nicknamed “Amazon Bill.” He and his new bride went to Brazil and their calender had a date with a poor fisherman and his wife, and that encounter would change our lives forever. Bill brought my dad to Christ.

    Once my dad accepted Christ, he was a radically changed man. He began to study with Bill and later through radio correspondence courses, in order to learn more about the Bible so he could share the good news with other people. With time, he was preaching everywhere on the islands. He went from catching smelly fish to catching messy people. (Sometimes they smelled too…). My father has always been a lover of people and no effort was spared when it came to sharing with the islanders — even paddling his little dug-out canoe multiple hours to get to a site where people had never heard of Jesus.

    But that’s not the reason I am telling you this story. I told you about a monumental event in my life. That event was my dad’s coming to faith in Christ. That action has had amazing repercussions in my life and that of my extended family to this day. But the most remarkable thing is that when Bill share the good news with my father, the gospel not only saved us, the gospel SAVED us.

    Every month Bill would come to our little hut on the Amazon and bring two things — a Bible, which he faithfully shared with my dad; and a package that he gave to my mom. What was in the package? Vitamins and parasite medicine. That package saved our lives. Yes, the gospel saved us from eternal doom, but parasite medicine saved us from the doom of the earth. Without Bill’s magic pills, my siblings and I had a good chance of dying before we reached the age of 5. In fact, as I said before, I did have siblings who died before I was born, and my little sister, Marta, died when she was only 2, from chicken pox.

    Bill, mind you, was not preaching a “social gospel,” he was simply being compassionate toward other people, like the Lord commanded him to be. Billions of dollars have been spent in “world missions”  throughout the history of the church, but sometimes all it takes is a few cents to buy the malaria or parasite medicine needed to save lives. I hope you will get up from the couch and find someone to give a package to. Don’t ask me what should be in that package. You go and figure it out.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

     
    • Beth 6:02 am on October 25, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      I love this story of your times in the jungle, how God came to preserve your family and have shared it on a number of occasions with other people.

  • ivanildotrindade 11:05 pm on October 21, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , immigrant, island on the amazon, , , paradise and hell, parasites, poor widows, small pox   

    Paradise and Hell on the Amazon 

    What do you tell people when they suggest that you are too passionate about a certain issue? “You are too emotionally attached to this!” “Don’t let your emotions get the best of you!” “You are a single issue person.” I find these comments so condescending. I mean, I don’t go around telling people, “You are as emotional as a corpse!” Sorry, corpse.

    Some people tell me this kind of stuff when they see my passion for helping the disadvantaged. If they are Christians, it should be a non-issue. The Bible has 2003 references to the poor and most of them are admonitions on how we should treat them. The so-called “quartet of the vulnerable” — the orphans, the widows, the poor and the immigrants, jump at us from multiple pages of  Scriptures.

    As far as I am concerned, as a follower of Jesus Christ, there is no “exception clause” freeing me from serving the “least of these.” It is not an option; it is not a “nice” thing to do. It is part and parcel of what I must naturally do if I indeed want to demonstrate that Jesus is my Master. It should be as natural as walking on two feet is to humans.

    But the Scriptural argument, often, is not enough to convince even the most devout of Christians. The more conservative they are, tragically, the more inclined they are to say that we should only help the “deserving” poor (whatever that means) or the ones who don’t have a cell phone, a flat screen T.V.’s or, God forbid, mountains of mountain dew piled on their kitchen floor.

    So I have to appeal to their emotion… I am, after all, an emotional guy, remember? I tell them about walking in the middle of a village of Pygmies in the Central African Republic, where the orange hair, the bloated belly and the sunken eyes of the children told a tale of death and destruction. Then I tell them that I was once one of those children. Now I have them.

    But this is not just a gimmick. I was, indeed, born into a family of thirteen, in a poor village of fishermen on a tiny island of the Amazon. Our hut was built on stilts, thatch roof, a hole for a window, the river for toilet and bathroom, and nothing but seafood and tropical fruits for food. It was hell and paradise all in one place, but we didn’t know it.

    Since there was food, we weren’t starving, but we were sick. We would go out into the wood to care for our needs and the stuff would run into the same water we used for drinking and bathing. This was, in essence, the same thing that was killing the precious Pygmies of Central Africa, with one big difference — I had food and they didn’t.

    We had no school, no hospital, and the next city was over two hours away by boat. If you had a serious accident, even if you had the means to get to the city, you would more than likely die on the way. We were forgotten by the world and awaiting a certain death by malaria, small pox, diarrhea or simply by stomach complications caused in by parasites.

    Actually, three of my siblings did pass away before I was born, and if it had not been for an event that changed the history of my family, I would more than likely not be here telling you this story today.

    Tomorrow I will tell you what that event was.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

     
    • ivanildotrindade 11:21 am on October 23, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      From my friend, Jim Hocking, CEO, ICDI (Jim receives my blog posts via e-mail, since he is a man on the move, so he doesn’t have a chance to come to this site often):

      Greetings Ivanildo,

      I just want you to know that I have been reading your blogs…you are an amazing writer!

      I did not grow up in the situation that you did but I did grow up in Africa and I am an emotional guy…that is why I do what I do. That is also why I get myself into so much trouble! Anyway…the exact words you used in this article…”you are just too emotional” have been used on me many times…

      Wow our Savior is awesome!

      Thanks for your blogs…the one today certainly struck a cord with me but then many of them have….keep it up and I will continue to send people your way to read these blogs.

      Jim

  • ivanildotrindade 11:42 pm on October 20, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: bikes, christian obligation, doing something bold, , g.r.o.w., helping the poor,   

    The tale of three bikes and the inspiration to start G.R.O.W. 

    Meeting Faa again in our church inspired me to do something bold. Praying and getting others on board was not enough. I had to do something personally and it had to be something with an exclamation point at the end. Just about that time we were in a series in our church about helping “the least of these.” I was scheduled to preach the last message in the series.

    During a meeting with the other pastors that week, I was on the edge. Actually, it would be fair to say that I was edgier than usual… I made the statement that getting involved in helping the poor was not just a nice thing to do. We were obligated to do it as followers of Christ. I said, “if we are not sacrificing on behalf those who are less privileged than us, we are sinning against God.” One of my colleagues challenged me on that point. He said, “You gotta be careful with what you say because some people might tell you that you should give up your motorcycle and give the money to the poor.”

    He might as well put his finger on an open sore on my side. I owned a Harley before and wrecked it. I was obligated to settle for a Honda Shadow, but I loved riding it. “No, God couldn’t be asking me to give up my bike.” This was Tuesday and by Thursday night I was restless. I kept saying, “But it is a 1994 bike, it can’t be worth that much.” I tried to go to sleep but an apparently random thought kept arresting my brain. It was not audible, but I could clearly hear it inside my head, “Do the math. Do the math.” I got up, went downstairs directly to the computer and looked up the Kelly blue book website. I found out that even if I sold my bike for less than the retail value, I would still have enough money to support 4 children in Thailand for about 8 months. My heart was suddenly at peace. And the bike was as good as gone at 3:00 a.m. on Friday.

    On Sunday, I told the story to my congregation. After the first service, a guy I had never met came to me and said, “Look, I heard you say that you were giving up your bike but not riding. I have something I want to give you. ” Well, to make a long story short, that Sunday afternoon he wanted me to come to his house and bring Faa so his wife could meet her. My wife, Faa and I went there and after Faa shared her story. After that, he presented me with a 2000 Harley Davidson bike, the same model as the one I had wrecked before. He said, “I don’t ride as much as I used to and my knees are getting bad. I want you to have it.”

    Back to church, after second service, a lady I knew came to me and said, “I have an original 1965 Honda S-90 which was one my husband’s first bikes. He passed away four years ago. I wanted to restore it so I could ride it but my knees are getting bad. I want you to have it.” Some time later she brought the bike to my house. It needed a lot of work and I had no clue what to do. Then another guy from church showed up at my house, riding a bike exactly like the one the lady had given me. He said, “I got this one in boxes and restored it. I do it as a hobby and I would love to restore this one for you… for free.” Four months later the bike had been restored to vintage condition, we put it on e-bay and raised almost $3,000.00 for G.R.O.W.

    Back to my Honda Shadow, I went through with my promise to sell it. I went to a friend’s used car lot. It was a Saturday afternoon. He helped me clean the bike and make it look pretty. It was past 5:00 p.m. when we put the bike on the lot in front of his business. We laid hands on the bike and prayed. He said, “We’re going to sell this baby in thirty minutes.” As I was walking back to his office, I remember thinking, “Yeah, right.” Before I could even finish the thought, I heard a car. The guy didn’t even park. He just stopped, looked at the bike, asked if I owned it. Then he asked if I could take him on a ride. We rode a couple of blocks, then came back and he said, “I almost bought a new bike this week, but I am glad I didn’t. I will buy this one.” And he did!

    That money was what we used to pay the processing fees and hire a lawyer to seek incorporation and tax exempt status for G.R.O.W. But that was just the beginning. There was more to come. Stay tuned.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

     
  • ivanildotrindade 11:05 pm on October 19, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: abused children, , grace refuge outreach worldwide, grow,   

    A Faa-bulous meeting in Thailand 

    Yesterday you read about how I stood with a friend a top of mound of dirt in Cambodia. During that same trip I also stood on a courtyard with someone in Thailand whom I had never met before. This young lady, whose name is Faa, through limited English, shared her story with me for about thirty minutes. We were standing there like old friends and time seemed to stand still. The emotion in her voice, the sincerity of her heart, the pattern of abuse and redemption, everything gripped my heart in a way I cannot explain to this day.

    The details of the story weren’t as clear, but there was no mistake about one thing: this woman’s faith in God was unprecedented and her courage seemed to know no limits. As I said good-bye to Faa that day, not knowing whether I would ever see her again, I told myself that if I ever had a chance to help her fulfill her dream of rescuing at-risk children, I would.

    That was June of 2008. Exactly one year later, unbeknownst to me, Faa was in the U.S. She had been promised some opportunities to improve her English and learn some leadership skills. Instead, she was placed at a Christian camp doing housekeeping. And she was supposed to spend the whole summer there! After one month, she had enough. Being as resourceful as she is, she reached out to our church, and soon she was in Wooster, immersed in our ministry and forging friendships which would change her life forever.

    Faa’s story was so compelling and her personality so bubbly, people simply fell in love with her. Soon, there was a core group of people who began to identify with her vision of rescuing children from the sex trade industry in Thailand. I spent an entire afternoon with her one day, asking questions, praying together, probing deeper, and brainstorming ways we might be able to partner. At the end of that time, we had outlined the principal elements of what would eventually become a rescue ministry in Thailand. But we still didn’t have a name.

    The next day we toiled more in search of a name. We drew pictures on the board (I mean Faa did) and kept talking until we came to an agreement. I knew that Faa wanted to have the words “Grace” and “Refuge,” and I wanted the ministry to have an international appeal. In the end, the name came to us — G.R.O.W. (Grace Refuge Outreach Worldwide) and with that nine years of toil, tears, prayers and hope against hope had finally ended for Faa. She finally found a group of people who trusted her enough to commit to stand side by side with her in pursuing her dream.

    There was, however, a small problem — we had zero money and zero clout. No one was knocking on our door and I had found from personal experience that churches were not too eager to support a ministry that was so cutting edge, so risky, as one to children abused by the evils of the sex-trade industry in SE Asia.

    We needed a miracle and miracle is what we got. Tomorrow I will tell you the tale of three bikes. You will be amazed at what God does when a group of people decide they will defend those who have no voice.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

     
    • Laura 4:51 pm on October 20, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      Ivanildo–
      I have often enjoyed reading your blog, but the last 3 days have been especially close to my heart. Can’t wait to talk Asia when you get back! Not sure if Faa went back with you, but let her know I miss her already.

    • ivanildotrindade 5:53 pm on October 20, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      thanks, laura. we will talk asia all right. i am so excited about this trip with naza. if u have time, follow us here, will try to post as often as i can.

      • Michael Lempenau 9:50 pm on October 20, 2011 Permalink | Reply

        Ivanildo, Now I know how this all worked out with you and Faa. I had heard bits and pieces before. Awsome. Something interesting is starting here. It is only in the talking stage. I just met a family coming here to Thailand for one year to see what God wants them to do. They came to work with one children’s home specially but he has been an entrepreneur in the US and heard that once children leave the homes they have a hard time finding jobs. Especially if they don’t go to college. He and his wife is thinking about starting businesses to help these children!! Like teach them what to do so they can do it themselves. I told him what you were doing and how much I liked what I saw and he immediately wanted to meet you. I told him to pray a little first, but he and his wife are also interested in Cambodia just like you. I know your head is full of info but maybe you should pray a little about this? Hope to see you soon. Mike

        • ivanildotrindade 10:48 pm on October 20, 2011 Permalink

          sounds great, mike. the g.r.o.w. board has started a conversation about helping our children become self-sufficient. of course i would like to meet these folks and explore some of these ideas. i will be in chiang mai nov. 1-9, would love to get together. faa knows my schedule. blessings.

  • ivanildotrindade 9:25 pm on October 18, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , dealing with church boards, field of dreams, , orphanage, , surprise,   

    Field of dreams in Cambodia 

    “Men shall not live on dreams alone, but without dreams men shall not live.” No one famous ever said that, since I just made that up now. In June of 2008 I stood on top of a mound of dirt with a friend who had a dream to build orphan homes on that very spot in Cambodia. He was only a dreamer then, but he was not the only one. We prayed for a miracle on that corner of God’s earth.

    After I came home, I resolved to jump into that dream with abandonment. I shared an initial plan with our church board to build an orphan home on that spot, completely funded by our church. This was summer time and we had just approved a new budget. There was no money in it for an orphan home. Oh yes, that was also the calm before the storm — the Autumn of 2008, when the financial world faced a near meltdown.

    The naysayers came out of the woodwork: “The cost is prohibitive.” Yes, between construction and start-up costs,  it was upwards of $60,000. “There are liabilities involved.” Yes, there are always risks involved in this kind of work. “How are we going to find all the sponsors?” 40 children, at the tune of $120 per month. Surely a tall order but not as tall as some had originally imagined. “How’s this going to affect our overall budget?” Well, we didn’t know unless we tried it, but there are enough statements about blessing the fatherless in the Bible, I kept saying. And I don’t believe God is in the business of punishing those who do what He says we must do.

    One key leader in the church, who was also an important member of the finance committee, raised objections. He was not being a pest, just a consummate bean counter. And I lost count of the times I came home, after a frustrating day trying to answer more questions, and I told my wife, “I quit!”. But as  my head hit the pillow, I would think of the faces of the children and they gave me the energy to face another bean-counting day.

    After several months of countless meetings, numerous e-mails, fact sheets, international phone calls, and much aggravation, Mr. Bean counter himself delivered the final surprise. At the meeting where I presented my final proposal, he was the first to speak. He said he felt “passionate” about the project. “Passionate”? I never even knew that word was in his vocabulary! He told the committee he was convinced we had to do it. From then it was smooth sail — the committee approved the project, the board signed on, the pastor went to the congregation and the money poured in…

    Today we have two homes, one in Cambodia and one in Thailand, and the field that once stood empty is a lively place now, where 6 homes have been built and hundreds of kids run around doing what children were meant to be doing — being happy. Hopefully there will be dreamers from that harvest field and the work will go on.

    Tomorrow I will tell you about 30 minutes that changed my life — how I met a young lady from Thailand named Faa.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

     
  • ivanildotrindade 11:38 pm on October 17, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , cheap hair cut,   

    The once a year three-dollar haircut 

    Four months after my first trip to Cambodia, I was back there again, this time with my oldest daughter, Carolina. Again, I had no clue what I was supposed to do. It would still be a few years until I found my sweet spot. For now, I was content teaching university students at Norton University, visiting with kids from homes sponsored by Asia’s Hope, and mentoring young college students who were living in “student centers” in the city.

    These students were from very poor villages in the countryside and would otherwise not have had a chance to go to school. I worked hard to find sponsors for some of them in the U.S. and spent every night of the two-week period in Cambodia living life with them. Spending time with them ranks among some of the funnest things I’ve done anytime anywhere. They taught me so much about living with little and overcoming tragedies. Though they were the students, I was doing most of the learning and I loved it.

    I also found ways to help the children. My son’s third grade class, for example, raised $75 and I was able to throw a little party to the Asia’s Hope kids, including giving them a package with some much needed items for their daily life, like a towel and a new outfit. It was exciting presenting the gifts on behalf of my son’s class, but I knew that was not enough.

    Somehow I couldn’t forget the children at the State-run orphanage. I had to find a way to help them. And you could say it was almost by accident that I stumbled into it. The days were tedious and hot and my hair was unbearably long. I decided to get a hair cut. Walking on the street where our hotel was located, I found a barbershop. The owner was an older guy who looked like a close relative of Confucius. He told me a tale that was too hard to pass.

    He was a poor barber living in the countryside but his lucky day came one day when the King, who was spending time with his para amour, felt the urge to get a hair cut. The lady happened to live in the same village as the barber. He was immediately ordered to get his tools and get inside the armored car parked in front of his hut. To his shock, before he knew it, he was in front of “His majesty, The King of Cambodia.” And from then on he became the King’s barber.

    And, of course, in order to keep the King’s “secret,” the King had to keep him close by, so he brought him to Phnom Penh, the Capital city, and gave him a shop on one of the busiest streets of this growing city. And that’s where I met this man. But the best part of his story was not the King, his mistress, or the free shop he got — it was the price of a hair cut, complete with neck and shoulder massage at the end. Only about $3 dollars. I couldn’t believe it. I was paying $20 plus tip for a haircut in California at that time.

    I decided to let my hair grow and only have a haircut once a year — in Cambodia, with my new barber friend. And here is the “bestest” part — with the money I saved, I was able to throw a party to all 15o kids plus staff at the orphanage, complete with cake, coke, and a gift package. The kids were happy and I was beside myself with my new $3 dollar haircut. I started doing that every year, but that was just the beginning. Tomorrow I will tell you about a field of dreams.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

     
  • ivanildotrindade 11:40 pm on October 16, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: AIDS, , ,   

    A little boy with AIDS doomed me 

    Never have I been angrier than that day in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The year was 2002 and I was making my first trip there, exploring the work a friend had started there among destitute children. Actually, I had no business being there, as my work at the time didn’t require that I leave the country. I went because I had a persuasive friend who would not take NO for an answer.

    While visiting an state-run orphanage I was struck by the number of children there. Over 100 crowded in a dilapidated, dirty, dark and depressing building resembling more of a prison than a place of rescue. After about an hour there I was exhausted. I was going back to the car when somebody asked me if I wanted to see the baby wing. Being the people pleaser that I am, I said, “Yes.”

    As I walked further into the belly of the building, I came across a whole wing where small babies were kept. 25 of them, all lying on mats on the floor, either inside the room or along the corridors. The smell of urine was strong, the babies were crying, coughing, wheezing, or simply sat or lied quietly, waiting for the inevitable. Some were emaciated and had the look of being already gone. I understood for the first time the expression “walking among the living dead.” Some of those children, even if they were not aware of it, were simply waiting to die.

    I picked up a little boy who appeared to be only a couple of weeks old. He had sores all over his body, a frozen expression of terror was stamped on his little face and his bony and skinny body was the picture of suffering. Through a translator, I was told that he was three years old and had AIDS. Back then, when women delivered HIV positive babies, the hospital officials simply “dumped” them inside state orphanages — out of sight, out of mind. I looked at this little boy’s unresponsive face, held him close to me and cried. I was angry at the whole situation, so I kept asking God out loud, “Why? Why? Why?”

    There was no audible answer, but I got a clear impression in my heart. I never got that boy’s name and never knew the end of his story, though I can guess what it was, but that little boy woke up the fighter in me. I told myself right then and there that from that time forward I would do everything I could to get into the fight to rescue at-risk children.

    I didn’t know what, how, or when I was going to do it, I just knew something for sure: I would not rest until I had made a difference in the lives of children like these. I was doomed for good and I was glad for it.

    Tomorrow I will tell you about what my first baby steps toward helping children in SE Asia looked like. Please come back.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

     
  • ivanildotrindade 9:49 am on October 16, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , ,   

    Count down to Asia 

    Eight days from today my wife and I will be leaving for Cambodia and Thailand, where we will be visiting and loving on our 80+ children that our church has rescued. You will not want to miss following our journey here, and starting today I will tell you how I got involved with at-risk children work in SE Asia. Come back!

     
  • ivanildotrindade 12:37 am on October 15, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: brasileirao, fluminense, fluminense vs. coritiba, fred, low scoring game, soccer is boring,   

    Think soccer is boring? Think again! 

    There are so many reasons soccer is my favorite sport. I’ve read so many things written by people who know little about the sport and dare make absurd comparisons between soccer and other sports — the low scoring, the lack of commercial breaks, too many decisions by penalty kicks, etc., etc. People who make these types of comparisons are often clueless about what the nature of this sport.

    To fully appreciate the sport, I am convinced, you have to have grown up with it. The tactical wars, the rehearsed plays (called “set plays” in the U.S. I like “rehearsed” better because it speaks of constant repetition and precision, which is what teams do ad infinitum when they practice), the beauty of near misses, the millimetrically precise long passes, the magical dribbles, the use of all curves, sides, corners and angles of the foot, not to mention the madness of watching a game from the section where the people holding the cheapest tickets stand (the “geral,” “general,” e.g. “masses” in Portuguese), riding multiple buses to get to and from a game, narrowly escaping the ire of the opposing fans, etc., etc. Soccer is a passion unsurpassed by any other sport in the world. World Cup soccer matches are watched by the majority of people living on the planet. From executives in high risers to monks on the high mountains of Nepal, soccer brings everyone together. Soccer is, in essence, the great equalizer.

    But forget all that. The number one reason I love soccer is the beautiful goals. Once in a while a player has one of those unforgettable nights. Fred, who plays for my favorite major league team in Brazil, Fluminense, had one of those nights a couple of days ago. Fluminense was playing against Coritiba in the Brasileirao, the Brazilian national league. Fred had just be flown from Mexico, where he had played for the Brazilian National squad against Mexico. I wrote about that game here. His club chartered a plane especially for him so he wouldn’t miss the game.

    As if paying back the team for the lavish expense, he came to the pitch and delivered. You can see all the highlights of that game here, but the goal I don’t want you to miss is this one here, a rare bicycle kick, perfectly executed. Brazilian commentators normally refer to players like Fred as being “enlightened.” That night he scored all three goals his team had in their 3X1 victory and even gave himself the luxury of missing a penalty kick. “Enlightened” may be a stretch, but if there were soccer gods, they would have anointed Fred their angel that night. Though I didn’t see the game, just watching the highlights got my heart pumping with excitement. I felt like I was standing by the fans with the cheap tickets once again, without the bag of urine being thrown across the air, of course…

    So next time you are tempted to put the game of soccer down, think of Fred’s goal. Imagine the mathematical possibilities of things aligning perfectly with the physical movement of a falling body to make connection with a small moving target that then hits another target in the exact place where it couldn’t be stopped by a second body standing in the way of glory. Just the turn of that sentence should be enough to prove how improbable that goal was. Physicists, physiologists and physical trainers will study that video for years. As for me, I am just glad I can simply watch it again and again and enter into this magic world of the “beautiful game.” Viva Soccer!

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

    PS. And if you are wondering why the sudden fascination with a Brazilian player named Fred, here it is: he is an older player, as soccer players go, and he has been discarded before by other teams and discredited by some commentators who prefer younger talent on the National team. But somehow he keeps plugging away, like the energizer bunny. Fred gives hope to people like me who dare to believe that in spite of age the best is yet to come.

     
  • ivanildotrindade 12:14 am on October 14, 2011 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , bolivia referendum, , road through TPNIS   

    322 million dollar road in Bolivia blocked 

    I wrote about the crisis in Bolivia recently. Well, I have good news, kind of: Under pressure for about a month now, the government of President Evo Morales agreed to suspend the construction of a road that would go right through a town where 12,000 indigenous people live. Next, there will be a referendum and the people who live in the region will be able to vote their conscience. No one expects that the road will receive a “yes” vote from the very people who have been vehemently protesting against it, so either this road reached its dead-end or President Morales has. Which will be only time will tell. For now, the protesters are saying they will continue their march to the Capital city, La Paz, but their protest will more than likely have no longer have any significant impact on the upcoming elections in Bolivia. Watch a video about this here.

    Meanwhile, the indigenous people who live in that area will continue to be neglected and forgotten by the rest of the world, the media will move from their town and life will go on as expected. Many will die because the road may not be there but more so could die because the road is there. Why can’t these political leaders make up their minds? If we’re really counting on them to know what is best for us, well, we better forget about it.

    Oh how I yearn for a government that would truly care for the needs of its people. I gotta believe there will be one in the future, otherwise, all my hopes for politics will be dashed. Mr. Moralez swears that this road will benefit the very people who are protesting, but the people themselves disagree vehemently. More clashes will no doubt follow. Who is right and who is wrong?

    The Prince or Peace could show me why He is called that just about now. I am ready to see some real peace in the world.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

     
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