Back in the Saddle Again!

November 26, 2012

I don’t believe, if my leg had actually been amputated, Ju, the maid, would have acknowledged the lack of it. Hobbling across the slick shiny terrain brown hardwood floor to the intentionally rustic diningroom table I was met with a blank stare this morning. She hardly seemed surprised to see me. Suppose I wasn’t that impressionable the last time we met or perhaps maids are not permitted to display expressions and practice in front of the mirror each day to mask their emotions so they appear deadpan and lifeless. Ha!

Thankfully Cristina without one ioda of hesitation on the phone late yesterday afternoon, invited me to come and invade her home with my numerous well-worn luggage on wheels once again. Thank you, Cristina and Michele! So grateful and humbled by their friendship and generous nature. I enter the double gates devilishly late last night guarded by a impassive (again with the pokerfaced look!) serious man I can only catch a glimpse of his features through the slanted thick glass, shaken and incredibly indebted. I rode here with a complete stranger who chatted, smoked and chortled in delight, Ana’s glorious bipolar twin. Where had this woman come from that I had not encountered? Perhaps she was as relieved as I to unlock the prison and allow us to be on an atypical and lighter plane.

Relieved the truck, with a nonfunctioning defroster that ensured a treacherous ride, of its fruit and vegetable load as well as my slightly damp stained and well- traveled bags. Gifted Cristina with the freshest of eggs (de mais!) deep rich purple eggplant, greenish oranges, crisp onions, small and firm potatoes, succulent tomatoes, over-ripe papaya and a huge hug of greeting. Sank into bed after lengthy and involved sagas of what happened in each of our lives since I departed for the farm a lifetime ago on October 8^th. Such escapades for the both of us!

Believe it or not I kind of miss the distraction of mosquito swatting, numerous diving insects, shift in the wind coming through the double doors of my shriveling four walls.

Cristina’s father, Joao Jose Leal has only just published a book called Paginas de uma Cidade, Cronicas. His autobiographical back cover adorns his smiling face, appearing very relaxed and content. Consider what that would feel like, with an arms length list of accreditations and numerous accomplishments. The celebration of his release was well attended, reflected Cris and her face shone with pride. I look forward to meeting Joao Jose Leal in the near future since his daughter is one of my favorite people.

Went to a bizarre at a synagog and Cris and I had fun browsing the tables for treasures...she found many and I glommed onto something for Taelor. The old ladies tisked tisked over my ankle and insisted I sit and put my swollen foot up on the boxes while sipping Guarana and munching on some round bread thingamagigs filled with something or other. Hm.