It has been awhile I have not written. Not sure what caused it, a coup de blues, writers block or just laziness. Probably a combination of the three, but I must admit a coup de blues did prime for a few days. It is not the first time a sudden coup de blues would overcome me while away from home. I remember at least two previous occasions.
First time was when I was 12 years old. Both my parents were away from home and I was staying with my aunt. All went well till one day I had a tummy ache. It became worse and worse and my poor worried aunt took me to see a doctor. The doctor thought it could be appendicitis and decided to not take any risks and operate. My dad had to leave his work and fly back home. The minute he stepped through the door, my tummy ache disappeared. I realised I was just missing home. I felt so foolish that I did not say anything. And my perfectly healthy appendix got removed.
The second time was in 1994 when I was sent to Lagos, Nigeria, for work. When the opportunity came up I immediately volunteered, though I was sure my dad would not like it. After all, he himself had worked in Nigeria and he had lived some pretty nasty things there. But to my great surprise, my dad gave me his blessing. Wise man as he was, he said it would be a valuable experience and he trusted the company to keep me safe. My dad was right: I saw and lived things that I will never forget.
Anyway, one day while I was getting up from reading a book, I scratched myself and blood splattered on the immaculate white couch I sat on. One look at it and something inside me broke. I started to cry and simply could not stop. My worried colleague called my boss and when he came in, he took one look at me and said “why don’t you call your mum? You will feel better”. I thought what a ridiculous suggestion (I’m not a kid anymore?!) but oh miracle, I did feel better once I talked to my mum.
The same sense of relief I felt when I arrived in Brazil and saw my uncle waiting for me at the airport. It felt like a warm blanket being laid over my shoulders. Especially because he reminds me so much of my late dad. It made my time in Brazil all the more a memorable visit, despite catching a cold that shortened our sightseeing plans with one day. But I did get to discover Antonina and Morretes, two peaceful little towns in the province of Parana. I imagine life must be sweet here, even though nothing much exciting seems to happen often. In Antonina time even seems to stand still with old buildings decaying more with every year passing by. But the surroundings!! Oh my. Rainforests, mountains, the river….. it is all there doing nothing else than pleasing the eye. Life in Morretes seems more colourful with plenty of little streets with hidden terraces beautifully decorated waiting for you to have a coffee with some nice pastry. Which of course we did.
A stark contrast with the day and a half I spent in Sao Paulo before leaving Brazil. Don’t get me wrong, the city is definitely worth a visit. If ever you have the opportunity to visit this vibrant and artistic city, do not listen to the Rio de Janeiro believers and go ahead. You won’t regret it.
The contrast I mentioned lies in the obvious areas: the jungle vs concrete jungle, the silence vs the noise, the individuals vs the masses. Nevertheless, I enjoyed cruising through the streets of Sao Paulo with my private guide Doris who took me from street art to street art. There are so many, we could not possibly cover them all in the 3.5 hours we had. These artistic expressions of emotions sure do colour the city and makes the omnipresence of concrete bearable.
Just like a talk with someone from home colours my day and makes my solitary journey bearable. That just proves again that I am not an island. I need the ones I love around me to flourish and be well.
