Eating Everything There Ever Was
by Patrick Johanneson

It started with a local hot-dog eating contest. Lou Verbain took first place, and moved on to the provincials, where he placed second. But the first-place contestant bowed out when his stomach ruptured, and Lou was on to the nationals. At internationals he placed a distant third to a whip-thin Japanese girl.

Lou wasn't about to take that lying down, so he went into hard-core training. He ate all the hot dogs in town, then in the province, and eventually he caused a continent-wide shortage in meat-ish products.

He moved on. Hamburgers, pies, cookies, anything he could stuff down his gullet. He grew and grew, too, expanding like a weed, like a balloon. It was surreal.

The day he started eating cars was probably the point of no return. He started small, with a rusted-out Datsun, but by week's end he was devouring Hummers and limos.

At some point hydrogen fusion started up in his stomach, but he didn't notice.

Long story short, now he's a black hole, Verbain X-1, and the Universe is slowly falling into him.

I am the Inland Emperor!

I write the date at the end of the last verse in the Book of Mormon each time I finish it. It's always a good feeling, both because of the accomplishment and because reading the book just makes me feel good!

I've been working like crazy on the upcoming all-California YSA conference and website. So it's extremely gratifying to see a picture like this pop up on facebook. That's my baby of a website!! Thank you, Saddleback YSA!

We're filming this weekend :)

I'm at the concert right now!

We went to Westwood near UCLA to check out the scene and it turns out Linkin Park was playing a street concert to promote Transformers 2. Dude from a local radio station came up and asked if we wanted free wristbands for the show. Um, yes.

But at least I saw the nation's capitol building! Thanks for the tour, Jill!

Which sounds dramatic because all I was trying to do was catch the bus I missed. But when you tell a brazilian motorcycle taxi that you're in a hurry, what you get are white knuckles and a prayer on your lips.

He split lanes, ran red lights, skipped stop signs, swerved around buses and honked when a man tried to use the crosswalk (who had the right of way).

Hence, the prayer. And..a few giggles at the utter delight of it all.

I'm writing this from the bus I caught :)

On to Sao Joao da Boa Vista!

I've stayed busy and it's been very rewarding. I'd like to share a few stories. They might not come out sequentially.

It was Fast Sunday when I arrived in Barretos. I was going to fast so that I could find my old friends. But as I went to pray to start my fast, I felt strongly--as I had before--that my Heavenly Father had already taken care of that for me. So instead, I fasted in thanksgiving.

I arrived at church wearing my slacks, tie, and white shirt. I looked like an Elder again, except with a huge backpack. Members of the branch outside the ward recognized me after just a couple seconds. Most of the adults looked the same and I couldn't even recognize the kids because they had all grown so much. I was well-received and full of smiles. It was a very happy reunion.

I was immediately invited to lunch by Maria Jose. Not long after, Cintia invited me too. It was the type of immediate kindness and generosity that I'd grown to love from brazilians. I was reunited with Fabricio, who was a priest when I was there. At the time, he would walk many days with us and we helped him have his first opportunity to baptize someone (Roberta dos Santos).

I was overjoyed to hear that he had served a faithful mission himself and had been home for a year. Marcio and Cintia's son, Willian, who was a deacon when I knew him, is now serving a mission in Orlando, Florida. That was one item on a short list of things that I really wanted to hear about that family. I didn't baptize the family, but I arrived not too long after their baptism and I got to know them really well.

I was able to contact Goyacy, whom I baptized in 2002. He doesn't come to church anymore and instead feels that he has his own message to preach, but he was nice enough to come to the end of church on Sunday. As it was testimony meeting, he heard me bare my testimony. I was overcome as I spoke with a huge feeling of gratitude and love. Through tears, I shared my love for the people of Barretos and for the gospel.

I had a wonderful lunch with Maria Jose and her children, Fabio and Fabiana. They are both working adults now and it was fun to spend some time with them and hear their perspective on life now. Afterward, they dropped me at Marcio and Cintia's house for some more nostalgia.

Fabricio and I went on splits with the elders. Elder Laxton, an american from Charlotte, North Carolina, helped me find Isabela, who my companion Elder Tyrrell Bailey baptized as his first baptism in Brazil. She and her friend Janaina are both less active in the church, but we had a good meeting and I feel like they were able to remember how church felt for them.

I met Dan, the current branch president. He served a mission in San Diego and is a chef. His wife Dri made a wonderful dinner for us all.

I was able to find Dulcinea, a mother of three boys, that I baptized. She's faced a lot of economic hardship, but her attitude is always positive. I shared with her a memory that I have of her that inspires me to share whatever I have. It was a tender moment. Her sons are men now and we'll try to stay in contact via the internet.

It doesn't matter how simple the house now, it seems that almost everyone has a computer with broadband internet access and a cell phone. That's a significant and exciting change from when I was here, mostly for the education and connectivity of the growing generation.

I left Barretos by bus during a heavy rainfall, which brought back memories of broken umbrellas, missteps into enormous puddles, and showing up soaking wet at peoples' doors. Soggy memories, the kind that never dry up.

Here's a little video from the back of a motorcycle taxi in Barretos. Pretty much my saving grace to find people. I just show them the address, grab their extra helmet, then hop on the back. Best. Solution. Ever.



I'm finding I don't have a lot of time for writing blogs, but I posted more pictures over in my web album, so check 'em out.

I'm loving this.

I was finally able to get in touch with T-Mobile to get my phone connected to the network down here. That means I can blog anytime now! Unfortunately, I can't blog pictures via my phone right now, but at least I can use some of my bus time to write what my pictures can't tell you.

So I'll post more pics in my web album and I'll see if I can write up a lot of what happened in Barretos while I'm on the bus ride to Aracatuba tomorrow.

So long, Barretos. You are still wonderful.

2 flights and 2 bus rides later, I saw a familiar bus station in the city of Barretos. I got a room across the street at the only hotel in sight with a neon sign. My own room with lime green sheets, matching table runner, and a loveable pink bathroom. I forgot about the bidets.


Barretos smells just like I left it: musty like a cowboy, humid as a cloud that can't rain, and sweet like sugar cane and friendship.

The owner of this internet cafe knows the elders--they come in to email their folks and upload pictures. He even found the address of the church, which is fortunate because apparently it has moved. I'm crossing my fingers they have an actual chapel, but I'll have to wait and see.

Here's a link to my web album with more pics. Check it regularly (or subscribe to it if you're savvy) and I'll try to keep it updated as I go.

This is so great. I'm actually here. I made it!

Peace out, americanos.

Thanks for the lift, Laura!