Brazilian or American? This has been one of the largest questions that have haunted me during my stint here on earth. When I am in the United States of America, I am treated like a Brazilian, a foreigner. I was required to carry a greencard (that’s not even green). I spoke Portuguese at home and English when I walked out the door. I was the tannest kid in the middle of winter, and I never understood American football. I thought to myself how wonderful it would be when I returned to Brazil where I would be accepted. A land filled with wonder and excitement. An amazing place that was tropical and where people talked, walked, and sounded much like me. This was a dream that was nearly confirmed when I returned to Brazil during the nineties to obtain our greencards (yes, I came to this country illegally as an infant). However, I was young and my memories of Brazil only included my family and people that loved me regardless of my nationality. So it wasn’t until I returned to Brazil, as a lone missionary that I fully understood what it was to be Brazilian. During that time I realized a few things about myself. One, is that I have been Americanized. I didn’t understand what it was to live and be raised Brazilian. Two, I am still Brazilian. Much like Moses who was raised Egyptian but still returned to the Hebrew slaves because that was who he was, Hebrew.
Something was different and it wasn’t made apparent to me until my first day in the mission field. My first discussion was with a black man, in the middle of a favela (a ghetto), with an American hating, illiterate Osama Bin Laden loving retard. It dawned on me that as much as I loved both countries; neither countryman gave a rat’s behind about the other. That didn’t sit well with me. I loved both countries equally. I’ve always told people who’ve asked me “What country do you love more”, neither. It would be equal to asking me what brother I loved more, Daniel who was born Brazilian or Dennis who was born American. I love them equally. Each country, much like each brother, has things about them that make me proud, and things that make me sick. So it goes my journey to change the world begins with my efforts to understand myself.
This blog is going to be about my journey. When you read the things I type, you must understand the conflict that resides within me. You might read something that makes you think I hate this country, but I don’t. You may also read something that makes you think that I have forsaken my country of origin, again which is not the case. I am simply a perfect mixture of Yellow, Green, Blue, Red and White with a hint of Brown!
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3 comments:
I don't know if it means much, but you'll always fit in with me! :) I can't wait to read your stories. You always fascinate me.
Good luck with your journey. I am reminded of a Shaman I once met in the indigenous forests of Côte d'Ivoire. He told me that many moons will set on the desert of your heart, before you win the lottery. That stuck with me for the rest of my life, and I hope it does for you what it did for me. In all seriousness I am looking forward to tuning in the the mind of David Dias. Great start so far. :)
About a year ago, I received a letter of intent to revoke my secret clearance eligibility from the federal government due to my refusal to renounce my Brazilian affiliation. As matter of course, I wrote a strongly worded rebuttal. I stated how such was unnecessary because I loved America the way I loved a father notwithstanding that Brazil would forever be my mother country. Uncle Sam was not impressed. Be that as it may, my position does not require clearance and so I remain relatively unaffected and the issue becomes a bridge to cross of some distant future.
I can certainly appreciate your internal dichotomy on this matter. However, we have another political affiliation that supersedes the two aforementioned. As a Brazilian, I see the evils that exist in America. Equally, as an American I see the evils that exist in Brazil. These evils are often dressed under the guise of patriotism and culture and as I child, my impressionable mind would sway in either direction because my acceptance of these evils offered some sort of social acceptance. However, as my maturity in Christ grows so too does my desire to be “socially” accepted by my creator. As consequence to this growth, I find myself caring less on defining what my culture is and focused more on defining God’s will for me. Whatever our experiences, my prayer is that you and I always find each other on the front lines of God’s Army. God speed on your journey; I look forward to reading more of your blog. :)
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