Dia do Tiago

April 16, 2013

His sensitive mother suffered from tongue cancer and ultimately died despite the aggressive and exceedingly excruciating treatments when he was merely four years old. They had taken her away in the old wooden-sided station wagon with blue smoke spewing from the back. Her skin had been tight as a bulldog’s and face, once exquisitely wrinkled, eyes nearly shut in their midst, now bulgy and shooting out waves of fear and longing. His memory cannot take him far down the path since it is surrounded in the wisp of dim light, windows draped in mourning and slight fragrance of peonies.

His salvation to this day is playing a violin constructed from scraps in the heap of garbage his father painstakingly glommed from beneath the rot and stench of plastic-filled mounds in the local smelly dump where he works day in and day out. The bits of warped wood and flattened plastic forms transposed into a beautiful and eloquent instrument he learned to play without instruction, seemingly intrinsic, for the sounds that extended out from  make-shift strings were astonishingly mature for his tender years.

Capybara is Tiago’s totem, given honorably to him by his great grandfather, White Bear. As an infant Tiago was taken on a daily trek into the dank swampy marsh to submerge his head and encourage instinctive paddling in the brackish water. As the Capybara is both undeniably social and intuitively resourceful, White Bear proudly presented Tiago with a dignified spirit to guide and press him to reach further in his potentially troubled yet enlightened life.

Tiago has great expectations of the role he will play in his growing community of South American tribal members. He imagines himself proud and important in his accomplished future, a father of many little mud brown-eyed children to pass along significant totems to take them on the journey to the Great Underworld.

The little people, living vicariously under the earth, play mischievous pranks on those unfortunate souls who remain stuck on the other side of the soil with their challenges and limitations of being human. Tiago has heard many stories from his elder about these spirits who guide and press individuals to live into the respect and honor of the great hunters, auspicious gatherers and medicine people from generations gone by. He must be proficient in his native language for how else is he to communicate with them, understand their legends if he cannot hear of the journey from the sing song rhythm? The elders come in his dream-time sleep with visions, sensations of successful hunts, voices of messenger birds and cunning bears.

It is with great pride and immense patience Tiago's round as a dignified boar form forces his way through the slurry to collect the herbs and medicinal plants his grandmother requires for her daily treatments. She is a wise and resourceful woman, tending to the village of young children and coming-of-age, chomping at the bit to be considered established as a valuable contributor in the small tender community in the depths of the valley.

Tiago is among us so prepare yourself for the touch of a small hand, whisper of benevolent messages and tender empathetic smiles. Perhaps he resides in your heart.