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Missionary by Jade email: [email protected] (Author's note: I generally pride myself on keeping my mouth shut about topics I don't understand. Unfortunately, I wrote this without any real knowledge of Amazon natives, infant development, or even missionary work. I offer it, thus, with my apology.) Reality: A figment of God's imagination. -------- Mom, I'm sorry I haven't been home since my missionary trip ended. I have to explain something to you before I see you again, and it has been hard to figure out how to make you understand. I decided to take some small snippets from out of my mission journal that refer to what I've been through. Maybe that way you'll be able to come to understand it, gradually, the same way I did. I can't think of any other way to explain. Love, Sam Jan. 11, 2000 Here begins the mission journal of Samuel French. I'm a 19-year old college freshman - well, I'm taking a semester off for this. I'm about to go on a missionary trip into Brazil! I never really expected it, but about four months ago, a missionary on tour in the US came and spoke in our church, and I really felt a calling - no, a Calling - to go myself. Nothing like that had happened to me before. When I talked to the church's missions board about it, they were really excited, because I've been working summers with my uncle for a long time. He's a general contractor, and apparently most of these villages where they've founded churches have a lot of construction needs. So I guess I'll be building instead of preaching, which is kind of a relief - I don't think I could preach anyway. It turns out, I'm going WAY deep into the Amazon, to an Indian tribe that still lives pretty much like an Amazon Indian tribe. It's not like I'll be the first white man they've seen, but it'll still be pretty wild. Feb. 9, 2000 Started upriver today. Heat, bugs, heat and bugs. I wonder if I can handle this. Still, it's incredibly beautiful here. Even some of the bugs are beautiful. (Others are hideous.) And we aren't even into the wild parts of the Amazon yet. I've already shot off one of my six rolls of camera film; I'd better slow down. Feb. 12, 2000 Our last stop in "civilization" - that is, a riverside town where there's gasoline, packaged food, and occasionally electricity. The bugs are beginning to make me wonder if this was a good idea, but it would be really stupid to turn back from a divine calling because of some bugs, no matter how big and awful-looking they are. Feb. 15, 2000 Well, today I was introduced to the Pachtikl. It's it's really amazing. I wish I could write down everything, but I'm so tired from the trip and the intense day! They seem really friendly, thank God for that. I'd been a little afraid that they would just see me as some sort of trespasser, but that doesn't seem to be the case. They've given me a nice hut (by their standards - good thing I brought mosquito netting) and a strange, but edible, dinner. I sure hope I can be helpful to them; they deserve something better than a light-skinned moocher, and I keep worrying that that's what I'll end up being. Feb. 17, 2000 A Pachtikl worship service today. The preacher is Pachtikl, he preaches in Pachtikl; all I can understand is his occasional gesture toward the open-air cross. They seem happy and enthusiastic, though, so I'm happy to see it, even if my linguistic ignorance leaves me kind of bored. Maybe this is what Catholic worship was like before Vatican II: Learn Latin, or die of boredom. Feb. 18, 2000 We started laying out the site for the schoolhouse today. It's going to be a sort of hybrid of modern and tribal construction techniques, hopefully a practical mix. I'm not so embarrassed about my crash-course Portugese anymore, since theirs is even worse. I don't know if I'll ever learn their tribal language. Still, you can go a long way with gestures and smiles when everybody's friendly. And for the building, diagrams and demonstration do the communicating. Feb. 19, 2000 It rained all day. I stayed inside and talked with some of the women, especially Chiacl, who's my age and nursing her first child. She speaks better Portugese than anybody else in the village, so I naturally end up hanging mostly around her. I really like her; God forgive me, I can't help but wish she wasn't married. She's really nice to me, and incredibly beautiful. Actually, all the women here are surprisingly good-looking. I told Chiacl so, and she said it was because their medicine woman gives them special potions. If that's true, she should go work for Revlon or something and make a few billion dollars. Feb. 22, 2000 Started digging the schoolhouse's foundation! I'm exhausted. The people here are great; it's like a Disney version of an Amazon tribe, where everybody is friendly and helpful. And beautiful. It's almost enough to make me suspect I'm doing my missionary work on a Hollywood set. Well, a Hollywood set wouldn't include the occasional bits of modern flotsam in the Pachtikl's world - plastic jugs mixed in with the handmade pottery, a chainsaw that used to work, a Miami Dolphins T-shirt re-sewn and reincarnated as a carrying sack. Feb. 23, 2000 Chiacl's daughter, Myonnen, is such a cutie! She has the biggest eyes in the whole world. I sometimes feel bad that she's going to grow up where life is so hard. But then, I think what life is like for lots of American kids: freeways instead of rivers, crows and rats and roaches for wildlife, gangs, drugs, child abuse, HIV maybe my pity is misplaced. Feb. 25, 2000 Well, I hope I didn't just violate some big taboo or something. Every now and then, the Pachtikl adults break up into men's and women's groups and spend the afternoon drinking some kind of local tea. This time, I was hanging out with Chiacl and asked if I could come with her for the tea. She said yes, but then there was some sort of big debate or argument or something about it when we went to join the circle; lots of jabbering. They asked me 5 or 6 times if I really wanted to. I never made out quite what the big deal was, but I think they thought I might lose respect among the men if I drank with women. I would have dropped it, I didn't want to create a fuss, but Chiacl was holding my arm and eventually they decided I could stay. In fact, once they gave me the tea, they were all smiley and friendly, even the ones who didn't seem to want me there before. I hope that means I didn't do anything wrong. Feb. 26, 2000 Well, I don't seem to have lost face among the men for yesterday's teatime. If anything, they were extra-polite to me all day. The rain is undermining the foundation diggings a little bit, but I think it'll be OK. Feb. 29, 2000 Another teatime today. I went to drink with the men this time, and they seemed to think I was crazy. I guess I'm supposed to drink with the women all the time now. No skin off my back; they're more fun to be around, even if I barely understand a thing. Mar. 2, 2000 The Pachtikl have amazing endurance; it's totally embarrassing to try to keep up with them in the shovelwork. I've try, because I don't want to be like some bigshot white overseer who won't get his hands dirty. Today, though, they practically took away my shovel by force when I started getting tired, and sent me to Chiacl instead. "Lead me not into temptation" No, that's not true; Chiacl's no seductress, she's way too innocent to betray Ellayon (her husband). That's probably part of why I like her. Anyway, I ended up helping her mash roots for some kind of soup. It was actually pretty good. A pity I won't be able to make it again at home, but I doubt I'll be able to find the ingredients at Safeway. Mar. 6, 2000 Myonnen is getting sick. Makes me wish to high heaven I were a doctor. But the medicine woman, Tellengit, was all over her with goops and salves and broths. Hope there's something medically effective in her stuff. We all prayed for her a lot. Mar. 9, 2000 Myonnen is much better today! Praise God almighty! Chiacl is soooo beautiful when she's happy. Is it wrong to think that? Mar. 14, 2000 We put in the main support beams for the school today. It's all coming along as well as I'd hoped, pretty much. The Pachtikl are good workmen, and smart. Mar. 27, 2000 Myonnen is making vaguely speechlike sounds. She's an incredible cutie. Apr. 12, 2000 A little embarrassing - I'm growing out of all my shorts. I've only got one pair left that I can still fit into. Who would have thought I'd get fat on Pachtikl cooking? Actually, the thing is, I don't think I am getting fat. In fact, I almost seem to have lost weight. Certainly, all the hard work hasn't bulked up my arms the way I was hoping it would. It's just that my hips seem really big. Apr. 19, 2000 The schoolhouse frame is complete now! We started on the roof. There was a sort of prayer-song thing to celebrate. Funny thing is, they had some songs sung by the men and some by the women, and they wanted me to sing with the women. And I think I could hit all the same notes as them. I never realized my vocal range was so wide. Maybe I should join a choir when I get back. Apr. 27, 2000 I had to throw out my last razor blade about a week ago, but I really don't seem to have grown any beard since then. Strange, but I'm not complaining. I thought the jungle life would make me into a bearded savage, but I feel rather civilized for a guy who hasn't seen a real bathroom in months. May 1, 2000 My hair's been getting pretty long lately, so I asked if somebody could cut it. Chiacl said yes, but I think she misunderstood me, because she just braided it instead. But she also braided a string of beads into it, with a thin braid of her own hair used as the string for the beads. I think it's meant as a special personal gift. Now I feel like I can't cut it, or I'll insult her gift. Oh well. It's actually kind of pretty, and certainly a sweet gesture. I guess, out here, it doesn't matter how long my hair is. May 14, 2000 I went to Tellengit myself for the first time today, for some kind of rash I guess I've got. It's making my nipples sort of itchy and swollen. She made me some paste that helps with the itching. I think I'll keep my shirt on until the swelling goes down, because the appearance is really kind of embarrassing. May 16, 2000 I taught Chiacl's baby to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star! Well, not the words, of course, but she kind of gurgles along with me when I sing it to her. May 22, 2000 A boat came up the river today, and I'm going to ride out with him when he goes tomorrow. Not for good, just to give myself a sort of vacation in civilization and check in at the church's missionary office in Manaus. I'm really looking forward to buying bigger pants. I keep getting bigger around the hips, but I still feel pretty trim. I think maybe my hipbones are sticking out further, but that doesn't make any sense, does it? May 26, 2000 WOW. Manaus is incredibly overwhelming. I feel like some terrified wild animal. The amount of noise and motion is just too much to deal with. I was going to walk around the city this afternoon, but I think I'm just going to hide in my hotel room, wait till tomorrow to face the modern world. I should probably cut my hair before I meet with the church office people tomorrow - the hotel bellhop accidentally called me "miss". But I really don't want to take out Chiacl's braid. May 27, 2000 I had a shock when getting ready for my meeting today. The mirror in my hotel room was the first I've seen since I left. I look a lot different. I can still tell it's me, but I can see why the bellhop thought I was a girl. Not just the hair, although my hair is really rich and long, longer than I expected. Something about my face, too, seems a lot softer than before, my features more delicate. Plus with my weird big hips, and that swelling in my nipples that just gets worse and worse... I wonder if something weird is going on with my hormones. I made an appointment with a doctor for tomorrow, before I go back. Anyway, the meeting went OK, although they did look at me a little funny and ask about my hair. They agreed about the importance of the braid, though, that I shouldn't do anything that might seem like a rejection of friendship. May 29, 2000 I don't think the church referred me to a very good doctor. He just said something about 'gynecomastia' not being uncommon in young men, and that I shouldn't worry about it and it would go away. I almost wonder if I should go back home, to America, to see a specialist or something. But that would be wrong. It would be totally selfish to abandon the Pichtakl just because I'm worried about looking funny. No way am I going to be that vain. I'm heading back upriver tomorrow. June 5, 2000 Wow, from the way they welcomed me back, you'd think I'd been gone a year. I love these people. June 13, 2000 I don't think I can doubt it anymore - I've definitely got some kind of severe hormonal problem. The workers on the schoolhouse were singing a song today, and I tried to sing with, but I had to go up a whole octave. I never used to have a high voice, but now it seems like I'm probably a soprano, or at least an alto. And I might as well be honest with myself - my "swollen nipples" are really breasts, a little small for a girl but obviously breasts. And they're still growing. I don't think I stand out at all among the women anymore, except for my light skin and American clothes. I think I'm walking like a woman, too; I'm pretty sure my hips didn't used to move this much when I walked. But it's hard not to walk that way, my hips have grown so big that it throws me off balance if I try to hold them still. It's really tempting to get out of here to get to a doctor, but I just can't do that to them. They ought to be able to give me something to fix it once I get home, anyway. At least nobody here acts like there's anything wrong with me. I'd be terribly embarrassed anywhere else, but not here. June 17, 2000 Chiacl actually grabbed one of my breasts through my shirt today - they don't have much concept of personal space here - and said that it was "very good". I asked her if she thought I was strange for growing breasts, but she just said again that it was very good and seemed to think I should be happy too. Weird. June 22, 2000 A few days ago, I asked Tellengit the medicine woman if she could do anything about my breasts. Hey, she's the only medical resource around, so why not? Can't be any less help than the doctor in Manaus. Today, she brought me her therapy: a bra. Well, it's a woven strap that the women here use like a bra. Very funny. Still, I think I might wear it. Otherwise my breasts might get all stretched-out and droopy, and then I'll have stretch marks when they do go away. She also gave me stuff to rub into them. I hope it helps. July 20, 2000 Well, I gave up on trying to hide my breasts under my shirt. (It's getting easier to think and write that phrase, "my breasts". Guess my masculine self-image can only stand up to reality so long.) It's too hot here, and they're pretty obvious anyway. I'm just baring them (with my bra-strap, of course) like the rest of the Pichtakl women. No snide comments; I don't think the Pichtakl even know how to be snide. I just thank God none of the guys from back home can see me like this. July 30, 2000 That song from South Pacific keeps going through my head - " and broad where a broad should be broad" It's scary, but kind of fascinating, the way I keep developing. It's hard not to be a teeny bit proud. Not that I want to be a woman or anything, but these are really kind of nice-looking curves I'm growing. If I imagine that I weren't ever going back home and nobody would bother me about it, maybe I'd just let it be this way. Aug. 8, 2000 Chiacl's a bit sick today. I helped her out with her daughter, not that I really needed to. Everybody takes care of everybody else's kids here. Still, I'm really attached to Myonnen, and I think she is to me. When she cries, I'm almost as good at quieting her as Chiacl is. Aug. 10, 2000 Dear God, now I'm scared. Chiacl's really sick today, and her milk for Myonnen has dried up. I've been standing by the medicine woman, praying while she works, and offering to do anything I can to help. She finally took me out away from the village, pointed to a grove of plants, and told me I could help by picking the leaves. When I brought them back to her, she had me chew on them - not Chiacl. I guess she just wanted me to leave her alone and let her work. Can't pester her with questions while I'm chewing a wad of leaves. They taste bad. Aug. 12, 2000 Chiacl's getting better now, but her milk isn't coming back. Other mothers have been trying to nurse Myonnen, but she won't nurse from them. I'm with her almost round-the-clock now while Chiacl recovers. The poor thing is already losing her baby fat. Dear God, please, help us. Aug. 13, 2000 My breasts feel really swollen and sore today. Maybe it's sympathy pain for Chiacl, or her baby. Why won't she take milk from anybody else? There are seven other nursing mothers in the village, but she just fusses if they try to feed her. Meanwhile, Tellengit is keeping me chewing leaves. All I can understand from her explanation is that it's supposed to help Myonnen somehow. Maybe it's supposed to be some sort of magical effect, where one person can take medicine on somebody else's behalf? Oh well. It may be superstition, but maybe it can have a placebo effect on somebody. Aug. 14, 2000 I got one of the other nursing mothers to get some of her milk into a gourd, then managed to pour a little bit into Myonnen's mouth. I'll never be able to feed her enough that way, though. God, where are you? Aug. 15, 2000 Miracle. Today I experienced a miracle. Tellengit came to me in the morning and started kneading and squeezing my breasts, until - milk came out. Real, warm, mother's milk, out of me. I still can hardly believe it. So then she took me to Myonnen and I fed her. She was perfectly content to take it from me... I guess I've always had a way with her. I suppose I should be horrified that I've turned into some milk-giving hermaphrodite freak. But I'm not, I feel wonderful, I feel joyous, I feel incredible. I have been the conduit of a miracle, I have saved Chiacl's baby's life. And it's... sensual, sensual in a very pure and innocent way, to be nursing her baby. It's better than marrying Chiacl, I think, to be sharing motherhood with her. Maybe someday, when I'm back in the states, this will all seem like some surreal and frightening dream and I'll want to burn this journal. But here, today, I am happy. Praise God. Aug. 16, 2000 Nursing a baby. Sheesh! It's still a totally sensual and mystical experience. I'm absolutely in love with Myonnen. But I do kind of wish her little jaws weren't so strong. Aug. 17, 2000 The medicine woman says Chiacl's milk won't come back until she has another child. I guess I'm staying here until her baby is weaned. Wow, try explaining that in a letter home! I guess I'll just try to say that "they really need me here" and leave it at that. I moved into Chiacl's hut to make the breastfeeding more convenient. I would have been scared of the temptation before, but now it's like we're already bonded so much closer than sex could ever achieve. How could simple sex tempt me now? Chiacl's husband, Ellayon, sure doesn't seem threatened. He's almost as affectionate with me as he is with Chiacl. (No, not like THAT! But there is definitely something very close and sweet joining all four of us, me, Chiacl, Myonnen, and Ellayon. Something I could NEVER explain to well, to a man.) Aug. 18, 2000 I asked the medicine woman today whether it was because of her that my breasts gave milk, and she said yes. Well, I don't consider it any less a miracle. Aug. 20, 2000 Now I'm beginning to wonder - I'd thought that my hormone problem was just me, but what if it was Tellengit all along? They've all acted all along like I belonged with the women. I thought maybe it was because I was a soft American, but maybe they knew that Tellengit was - well, was turning me into a woman. I'm not mad, not really. I mean, I saved Chiacl's baby's life. Maybe she had some sort of prophetic vision, so she knew Myonnen baby would need this? Gosh, I'm finally the recipient of a genuine, old-fashioned miracle, and it's one I can't exactly stand up and tell the church back home about. What am I going to do back home? I guess I'm not really going to see anybody until I can get my body fixed. Well, time to worry about that later. Sep. 1, 2000 The schoolhouse is done. We dedicated it to God today with a big day of prayer and feasting. Some songs were sung by the men and women separately, and I took my place among the women as a matter of course. I don't think I could sing like a man anymore to save my life. It's obvious now that they've been treating me as a woman all along, even before my breasts started growing, I think. It's hard to believe I didn't notice it before, but well, guys are supposed to be socially oblivious, right? Anyway, I'm not going to complain. It would be kind of stupid to try to assert my manhood while I'm holding a suckling baby to my breast. I'd be heading back to America, now, if not for Myonnen. I don't mind a bit, you know? I'm going to help them start a cement-floored food storehouse next, but I think they could do it on their own with what they learned from the schoolhouse. The real reason I'm here is Myonnen. She's more than reason enough. Sep. 4, 2000 I wrote a big letter today, to a nutritionist at the University of Manaus. Not that I know a nutritionist there - I'm hoping that somebody at the university will direct the letter appropriately. I've been obsessed lately with making sure my milk will be good enough for Myonnen, which means making sure that I get plenty of nutrients, which means figuring out what's in all this Pichtakl food. I probably don't have anything to worry about - don't they always say that primitive diets are the healthiest? Still, I can't help worrying about it. The size of my responsibility here overwhelms me completely. Anyway, I'll have to give my letter to the next boat that comes down the river, and pray that it gets into the right hands somehow. Sep. 14, 2000 First day of classes back home. No regrets. I don't think anybody could seriously tell me I'm having less of a learning experience here. Sep. 24, 2000 With the Pichtakl building things just fine on their own, and Myonnen nursing all the time, I'm hardly spending any time on the building project. Instead, I'm hanging out with Chiacl and with the other nursing mothers, and learning gobs of weaving, cooking, and childcare. It turns out that I'm a rather talented weaver, for a beginner. If I do say so myself. I'm going to make some things to bring to my mom and sister - beats buying a T-shirt from the airport souveneir shop, huh? I'm learning so much about life here! From the women's point of view, anyway; I don't spend much time with the men, except for Ellayon. I should switch majors to anthropology when I get back. No, double major: anthropology and women's studies. Except I can just imagine some stuck-up girl in the class asking me how I could possibly claim to understand women's issues. Oct. 15, 2000 There was some sort of prayer ceremony today to bless the nursing mothers of the tribe. Myonnen made me come with her. Well, really, I'm glad I got to go, it made me feel very special and honored and blessed, even if it was strange. We both got all covered in paints and stuff, lots of fertility symbols and things, erotic-looking patterns painted on my breasts, the works. Probably more old pagan magic than Christian prayer, but I don't think there's anything wrong with that, really - The church has always grown by incorporating spiritual customs instead of replacing them. Anyway, I think it was good. I felt very, um, joyful in my motherhood, a living, powerful link in the cycle of life. It sounds silly to write it, but it wasn't silly. The truth is, I felt so much a part of this, this female mysticism, that I honestly felt surprised and shocked and, yes, disappointed, when it was over and I remembered who I am. I'm not really a woman, I don't have a womb, I'll never give birth no matter how many fertility symbols you paint on my breasts. Damn. There's no point in being discontent. I'm trying to look at it this way - how many people have lived through both manhood and womanhood to the extent that I have? I'm, like a duck. Can't fly as fast as an eagle, can't swim as fast as a fish, but eagles can't swim and fish can't fly, and I've done both. Does that sound weak? I admit, I'm still fighting this crazy sense of longing for real womanhood. I always used to look forward to life as a man, so what's wrong with it now? Why shouldn't I be eager to get back to the life I always thought I'd have? If anybody ever reads this, sheesh, they'll think I'm totally nuts. Maybe I wouldn't feel like this if I'd ever done anything really amazing, really wondrous, as a guy. In my short life so far, what do I have to compare to nursing a baby? Boy Scouts? Ha! Nov. 10, 2000 Somebody answered my letter about the nutrition! I'm going to grind through the numbers right away. Nov. 11, 2000 Well, I think I'm doing pretty well, nutritionally. I should maybe try to eat more sintlic leaves, for the iron, but other than that I think I'm OK. I give good milk - hooray! This beats making the Dean's List any day. Dec. 14, 2000 We started Myonnen on solid food today, as the first step in weaning her. It's hard, harder than I imagined, to give her root mash; she cries for my milk, and I want so badly to give it to her. I went off by myself to cry twice today. It seems like nursing Chiacl's child has been such a magical experience, I can hardly bear to think it's ending. And then I get to thinking about how I'll leave for America, and I might never see Chiacl and her baby again... wow, I think I have to go cry right now. Dec. 29, 2000 Myonnen is beginning to crawl! Poor thing, the dirt floors here don't seem as kind to a crawler as good old carpet, but I guess they all manage it. Jan. 12, 2001 The village has a visitor - Distokini, who left the village as a child to work down the river. He's back to receive a blessing from his family before he marries. His Portugese is fluent and he even knows some English, so I'm eager to talk with him when he has time. Jan. 13, 2001 WOW, do I feel sheepish. I feel like a whole herd of sheep, all at once. Distokini helped translate for me today, so I was able to converse for with the Pichtakl for the first time ever without the language barrier. And... well, yes, I was right, my feminine form is indeed thanks to Tellengit. But it's not because of any prophecy; no, it's simple misunderstanding. She thought I wanted to become a woman all along. Everybody knows Tellengit is the Pichtakl tribe's greatest expert in the medicines of womanhood. The beauty potion - that is, the tea - that she gives the women is so strong that a boy who drinks it will grow up to look like a girl. Over the years, three boys have been sent to her from other Pichtakl villages because they wanted to be girls. With her tea and some other medicines, she accomplished the task. All three returned to their home villages as women. (Presumably no more female than I am now, but I guess that was enough for them.) When I asked about joining the women for their tea, that first time, that's what they thought I wanted. In fact, they decided that that must have been the reason I came to the village in the first place, and that helping to build the schoolhouse was just my thanks for the sex change. When I asked Tellengit for help with the growth in my breasts, she thought I wanted them to grow faster. One good Pachtikl-to-English dictionary - not that such a thing exists - could have saved my manhood. Well, I didn't tell anybody that it wasn't my idea. What good would that do? It would only make them feel bad. And I'm happy with the way things turned out. And, you know, I don't consider it any less a miracle. So the whole thing flowed from a miscommunication; so what? God works miracles through our mistakes. Is that news to anybody? Blundering your way into your purpose is humbling, and humility is valuable. So, here I am. Samuel French, nursemaid. Gee, the career counselor back home never saw my talents in this field. God has a great sense of humor; so what if it's kind of twisted? All the best comedians are. Jan. 18, 2001 Distokini went back downriver today. Before he left, I got his help to tell Tellengit how happy I was to be a woman and how grateful I was to her. She may as well believe it was exactly what I wanted. Besides, she did a great job, and it was certainly necessary. If an angel had appeared to me at the height of Chiacl's illness and told me I could either grow breasts or watch Myonnen starve, I wouldn't have hesitated for even a moment. Feb. 2, 2001 It's been two days now since I last nursed Myonnen. It's tempting to squeeze the milk out myself just to relieve the pressure in my breasts, but if I do that I'll never stop producing. I can just imagine meeting my Mom with milk leaking through my bra and leaving spots on my shirt... oh, God, I have a lot to take care of when I get back. Time to pay the price for my miracle, I guess. Feb. 5, 2001 Myonnen is weaned. My mission - my real mission - is over. My Calling. Did God even care about the schoolhouse, or was this all about Myonnen? She'd be more than worth it. Worth more than gold, that girl. I'll leave the next time a boat comes. I can't help but hope it never will. Feb. 13,2001 I'm writing this from the boat going downriver. I am going home, except I feel more like I'm leaving home, leaving the child I suckled and her beautiful mother. I've cried so much today my head aches. Ellayon kissed me. Chiacl told me that, wherever I go, we will be sisters forever. Feb. 15, 2001 I arrived back in Manaus today. Seems so Western, so unreal, so noisy. I wonder if I'll ever really be at home in the modern world again. Absolutely everybody takes me for a woman now, and this being Latin America, there were some wolf whistles and such. I hardly noticed that, though, through the culture shock. I don't even feel like I'm the same species as these people; who cares what sex I am? I have to admit, the shower at the hotel room was quite a delight. But the mirror in the bathroom I had thought I wouldn't really look at myself in the mirror until I felt ready, but I caught a glimpse of myself and had to stare. Looking at myself, I could hardly believe myself that I was a man. Even my genitals are atrophied, hardly able to argue the case for my maleness. Actually, this sounds really vain, but I look beautiful. As beautiful as any other Pachtikl woman. I guess that's basically what I am, for now - a white-skinned Pachtikl woman. Does life throw you curveballs or what? Feb. 16, 2001 I miss the Pachtikl terribly, but I also miss my Mom. Maybe nursing a baby gave me a new understanding of the maternal bond. I wish I could go straight back to her, but it would be too much of a shock for her to see me this way. Instead, I decided to go stay with my big sister Carrie in LA until my body is fixed. I tried to tell Carrie what was up on the phone, but couldn't quite get up the nerve. I hope it doesn't freak her out too much. She must have figured something was up, especially with my high voice, but she just said she wanted to see me. I wish I had the guts to warn her. My plane won't leave until tomorrow. I submitted a final report to the church missionary office by mail and spent the day wandering the city, a little dazed. I stocked up on shapeless sweatsuits and things, hopefully stuff I'll still be able to wear when I get back to normal. I'd hate to waste the money. I bought a regular Western-style bra, too. Needed lots of help from the woman at the department store to help me find one and fit it. I almost wished she would say something, give some sign that I didn't seem like a woman to her, reassure me that I wasn't just one more ordinary lingerie customer, but of course she didn't. Feb. 17, 2001 I had a layover in Caracas, and had to use a restroom in the airport. The men's room was obviously out of the question. I felt a little scared going into the women's room, like an alarm was going to go off something, but nobody looked twice. When I came up to the long mirror, with a crowd of a dozen other women around washing and primping and all, it took me a second to figure out which woman's reflection was my own. Now that the culture shock is receding, the gender thing is scaring me more. I'm coming back to the world I've always known, but walking around in an alien body. I feel like I ought assert my masculinity to people, talk football or something, but that's ridiculous. I have none to assert. Feb. 18, 2001 I traveled all day, and then Carrie and I talked all night, so I don't have energy to write much. Carrie is amazing. She's totally supportive, totally behind me. It's a huge relief. I never realized what a great sister she is. Feb. 19, 2001 I called Mom to let her know I'd be staying with Carrie for a while. It was hard to dissuade her from flying out to see us, but we managed, for now. Carrie and I spent the whole day talking. I wish I'd stayed closer to her when I was in high school, but I guess we're making up for it now. She had a bad boyfriend (worthless scumbag jerk) experience not long ago, and I'm glad I could be here for her. I made some doctor's appointments to get myself fixed. Carrie said she likes me better as her sister and I shouldn't change back. I laughed like she was joking, but I don't think she was. Feb. 21, 2001 I went to an endocrinologist today. I don't think he really believed my story; he kept saying that a year of taking hormones couldn't produce the effects I was showing. Well, who said Tellengit's medicines were normal hormones? Anyway, he also said that taking testosterone wouldn't be enough to fix me, so he referred me to some plastic surgeons. Carrie said it was obviously going to take a while until I looked like a guy again, so I might as well get some clothes in the meantime, because she didn't want to room somebody who looked like a slob. I finally agreed to let her take me shopping with her tomorrow. After all, it's not like staying in sweats makes me feel male anyway. And it made her really happy when I agreed. That's important. Feb. 22, 2001 Went shopping with Carrie today. She had a great time, and I admit, I had fun too. We got some jeans and tops and, yeah, some skirts and dresses too. There was sure a weird feeling, seeing myself in a dress in the changing room mirror for the first time. Still, it feels good to look nice, take care of myself and all. I guess I'd expected to hide out from American society until I could re-enter it as a man again, but there's really nothing wrong with being here as a woman. I guess it's fun. Hey, half the population manages it, why can't I? Feb. 23, 2001 Carrie got me to come to a friend's party tonight. I didn't want to stay home without her, and she really wanted me to come. It was actually a really good party, mellow and not noisy, and with neat people. She's got good taste in friends. Some of the guys there tried to flirt with me, but that wasn't so scary, because they were really nice about it. Actually, it made me feel kind of good. Male attention is such a weird thing, like a kind of electricity, and it comes in all flavors, from disgusting to scary to - well, to nice. Is it weird to be flattered? Sometimes I felt like the center of attention in a really affirming way. Wow. I'm probably going to need an army of psychologists when this is all over. It doesn't help that Carrie keeps telling me what a great sister I am and that she doesn't want me to change. Feb. 24, 2001 Well, I enjoyed myself so much last night, I couldn't really defend myself from Carrie's suggestions today. She actually got me into a wispy little blue dress, lipstick and everything, and out to some dance places. I felt wow. Like a sensation, like the star of the show. Like in My Fair Lady: "I could have danced all night" All eyes, all smiles on me. Shy, longing looks yeah, I recognize those, I've given plenty of them myself. No guy should ever go through this, it does really weird things to my brain. But I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. I should write papers in psychology about this next year, except nobody would believe me. Feb. 26, 2001 I met with a plastic surgeon today. He was talking about how to remove my breasts. As he was talking, I started feeling so weird, I excused myself, ran to the bathroom and threw up. I felt so nauseous and scared. I know I should be eager, but how do I explain it? It's like well, these are the breasts that nursed Myonnen. That is the most sacred experience of my life, and now this doctor's talking about chopping it up, throwing the bloody pieces in the medical-waste bin, rotting in some giant LA landfill wow, now I'm getting nauseous again. This body, you see, it was a gift from the Pachtikl, my adopted people, they gave it to me. And it was my gift to them, to Chiacl and Myonnen. This is how I did the most important thing I've ever done. I was a part of the circle of life. This body was my miracle in flesh; it was sanctified. If only I could wrap it up in tissue paper and put it in a box! Take it out to reminisce and show my closest friends. But no, it's all or nothing. Live this way forever, or chop it up and throw it away. It doesn't seem fair, that's too violent a choice. I'm a boy, I'm not supposed to want to be a woman; but in the Amazon, I was a woman, a mother. Was that wrong? Was it bad? Should I put that under the cold steel scalpel and treat it like garbage? God, I don't know what to do. The truth is, I don't think I want to go through with the surgery, or the hormones, or any of that. I'm happy like this, I'm having a great time, but I have to change back - don't I? What would everybody say? "Oh, OK, you went to Brazil for a while and now you're a woman. That's nice." Yeah, right. Feb. 28, 2001 I'm feeling a little better today, but it's still scary. Here's what I'm facing: Beard should come back with testosterone, no problem. Voice should go down again, although they're less certain about that. Muscles should fill out again, too. Genitals may grow back to full size, but no guarantees. Breasts will have to be removed surgically. Making my face back to the way it was would take a LOT of plastic surgery, and the surgeon doesn't even want to do it. He says he's not used to cutting a pretty face to make it plain, and it might even violate his Hippocratic oath. I guess I could get by without the surgery. I'd probably be a lot more attractive than I used to be, but in such a feminine way, it would be really weird. Maybe bisexual girls would like it. They say they could cut my pelvis back down in theory, but it would be major, major surgery and not at all worth it. So I'm pretty much stuck with womanly curves below the waist. In short, with a lot of time and pain and expense, I could become about half the boy I used to be. How am I going to pay for all this? I don't want to ask Mom, she's strapped already from my college costs. Maybe I'm just looking for an excuse not to go through with it. Or maybe I'm crazy to even consider mutilating myself for some machismo ego thing. I don't know! Mar. 4, 2001 Somehow, I took it for granted that I couldn't go to church last Sunday. Today, I realized that that's just what I need. Carrie's not usually the church type, but she came happily enough when she saw me in my Sunday best. I feel resolved. I didn't get some big supernatural message, not like the calling I got to go on mission. But I felt good, I felt right, praying to God as a woman. And I realized - I guess that I shouldn't worry about it. If I can face my God joyfully this way, then why shouldn't I face the rest of my life, too? I've been afraid to stay this way, without any good reason but with this irrational suspicion that I shouldn't be allowed to. That's gone now; I feel like I can choose with a clear mind. It's whatever I prefer. And there's really no question about that anymore. Carrie is overjoyed. We decided that I'd room with her and get a job as a woman over the summer while she teaches me what I need - all the stuff I never got to learn as a little girl. I'll try to transfer to UCLA for next year, and see if I can get registered as a female student, so I can start making my own life but still stay close to Carrie. There's so much to plan but I'm looking forward to it. The second-biggest adventure of my life. I thought before that I had given up my manhood for Chiacl and Myonnen. Truth is, I ended up receiving more than I gave away. Doesn't God always work that way? Well, Mom, I don't know what else I can say. Maybe, reading all this, you'll understand. But please, just talk to me, ask me anything you want to, I really want you to understand. I love you with all my heart, and I'm dying to see you again. Please know that I love you and I'll always be your child, no matter what. Love, Sam P. S. (from Carrie) Mom, I promised Sam I'd help her explain to you, so here goes. Please, you've got to understand what a wonderful thing has happened to her. It's totally amazing the way she's matured and deepened, but she's still got everything we always loved about her before. She's the same person, but better. I know you're probably completely freaked about it right now, but trust me, when you hang out with her now it just seems really right, she seems like she was always meant to be this way. Besides, I think, if you tried to make her change her body back to the way it was before, it would be like stripping away her experiences, or invalidating them, or something. That just seems really, really unhealthy. I really think we have to embrace everything that happened to her and help her keep growing instead of going backwards. Anyway, I'm sorry I've been kind of evasive on the phone lately, but I didn't want to give away anything Sam wasn't ready to tell you yet. Call me as soon as you read this, OK? Love, your other daughter Carrie --Finis