The building is still there, but I´m sure nobody would take the trouble to stop and take a look at it. It´s old, so old-fashioned, even ridiculous after it has been painted green and granted a title. “Blue Sea Hotel”, that´s what it says. It looks like a beggar whose clothes are too colorful and inadequate. We moved into its third floor when I was five or six years old – at the time it was a charming beige building and we were very excited about living there.

I remember my mother giving orders, boxes being opened and all the noise of heavy packages taking their places. For us, the children, everything was fun, a lot of fun. Old toys emerging from boxes, schedules being broken, and more than anything else, improvisation. Why do we always try to make our lives so permanently organized , when improvised meals taste so good?

We lived there for 13 years. Rio de Janeiro was a different city at the time, full of immigrants. Different languages were spoken in the houses of the girls I used to make friends with. And, there was a war going on. We were very far from it, but it was in the movies, in the newspapers, on the radio, in people´s conversation and in the heart of the families. Young men were being drafted and sent to distant places where they should perform actions they were certainly not prepared to perform. I saw them going and coming, I heard their fears and their jokes, I had my share of everything that happened , as if it were part of my education.

I was twelve years old when the end of the war was announced. I will never forget that moment, people looking at each other to believe it was true. And I will never forget, either, how long it took to erase the stains of the war. Maybe I can say that I grew up in the backstage of a war …

BLUE SUNDAYS

I´ve felt like this for a long, long time. I don´t mean I don´t like Sundays, they´re the days I can do a little of everything, which is very important for me. I can rest, I can work on some new (or not) handicraft, I can talk on the telephone, I can even go out to eat something different … But Sundays make me down. Sundays smell like my mother´s cooking, the white linen tablecloth on the living room table, guests for lunch and finally, at the end of the evening, my father coming home from his fishing trip.

Chris Christopherson says:
“There is something on a Sunday that makes everybody feel alone.”


That´s exactly how I feel. Alone. Nanny is screaming outside, my son is laughing, there´s a couple watching TV and talking to my daughter-in-law,the dogs are barking now and then, but I feel as if I were standing in a square, people passing carrying their umbrellas, rushing to get somewhere because it´s drizzling in the late afternoon and I, standing there, nowhere to go and nothing waiting for me. Of course it´s not reality, ´cause I´ve always had somewhere to go (!?), but that´s how I feel.

Why is it so? Because I miss my childhood? It would be hard to understand, because my childhood was far from being pleasant and easy. I´ve already given some thought to finding some work to do on Sundays, like baby-sitting in hotels or reading to old people. Thank god none of them became real, for I guess I would have felt worse. I´d probably have missed my melancholy moments , my invisible reality. Sundays may be our invisible reality, the one we try to disrupt all week long. The day we have left for the truth.

Anyway, as you must have guessed, today is Sunday. Another blue Sunday. Tomorrow will be another day. Tomorrow is Monday!!!

Still on the subject

STILL ON THE SUBJECT

What´s happening to women? Are they just taking revenge against men´s behavior or are they adapting to a new order that is frightening but is, in fact, a glimpse of the future we dare not look into yet?
The fact is that more and more women are doing sex for money. Some do it because the´re very poor, (a minority in the interior), some because they live in big cities and they feel the need of climbing in their projects – a woman has to reach the prototype to succeed and to be asked out : she´ll need big silicone breasts, sensual lips, abundant hair, a perfect figure and probably a tan all over the body. All that, my darlings, costs an arm and a leg, and without it, according to the media, you can´t be happy.
I should have said that I didn´t intend to generalize, that they´re not the majority of our population, but, honestly, I can´t be sure. That´s all I can see when I look around. University girls making money to travel, older women having all kinds (all kinds!) of plastic surgeries to look good, everybody rushing towards beauty and seduction. They want to be happy. They want it now, they won´t consider waiting until they can afford to do things. Women need a top model figure to be asked out by a well-off man. Pleasure is nowadays the look of envy of friends when you have a “big shot” date. Pleasure is the touch of silk or leather in your skin. Pleasure is the amount of your bank account. I wonder if they care about an orgasm …
Men are simply taking advantage of what is being offered to them. If they ´re allowed some luxuries, I mean, if they can pay for that, they act like consumers, browsing here and there, enjoying the quality of new products.
In small towns you hear about many girls who left for Spain to make money as prostitutes. Their families are proud of them, these girls have sent them money to build houses and have a better life.
It´s a trend, my friends, what is happening is something important because it has to do with the world´s new order. “Money makes the world go round”, we all know, but maybe we have here something that will change relationships and behavior forever. Don´t be so naïve as to think that this is happening in Brazil, that maybe that´s because we´re half Indians or uneducated. Don´t. Brazilians are very intelligent and sensitive, and being sensitive makes them capable of seeing things that other people can´t see Remember the story of “The king´s new clothes”? Something like that, maybe.
I don´t know what´s happening in the other countries, but I know about mine, because, among other things, I live.

A LITTLE OF BRAZIL

A LITTLE OF BRAZIL


"- Yes, I have two, a boy and a girl. The boy lives with my sister in Maricá. It doesn´t make any difference to my sister, for she has two children - if she has to look after two, why not three...?" She pulls her long hair backwards. Her hair is almost red, gleamy and abundant, preserved from the sun and the sea water - she never goes to the beach. "The girl lives with me. I pay a woman to take care of her while I go out. I got to work ..."

"The boy is big now, he doesn´t give my sister too much trouble, he can take care of himself. Look, that guy is staring at me. I´m going to smile at him; men always prefer women who smile. He´s not bad at all, he must be German or something like that. Maybe he´ll start by paying our check."

"Me? I live near here, on Barata Ribeiro, but I´m not staying there too long. Oh, no, not me - I want to have my own place, my dear. I can´t stand living with other people : at the beginning it´s ok, everything is fine, but after some time ..."

"My little girl is just like her father, who happens to be a big ugly German. But he´s nice. He´s crazy about her, believe me, I never saw anything like that. Look, this is a letter he sent me. He didn´t write it himself, cause he doesn´t know a word in Portuguese. He asks somebody else to write for him."

"Do you know Katia? A tall, blonde girl ...I can´t understand why, she always gets more money from the guys. Remember Jim? Of course you remember Jim, everybody was after him last summer. Well, he gave her one thousand reais! The most I got from him one day was three hundred, and that was because he was drunk, my dear, because when he´s sober it´s just a hundred note and no more. And I still have to wait until 10 o´clock in the morning when he wakes up ..."'

"The guy smiled at me now! I think I´m going to invite him for a drink. With elegance, of course. I´m usually very lucky with Germans. My girl´s father is coming to Rio next month. He´s crazy about the girl. I think it´s because she looks like him - the same big round face with those big blue eyes ... The only problem is he´s going to stay a whole month and I can´t work during this time. Of course he doesn´t know I still work the night."

"A hundred per week, that´s how much I have to pay the woman who looks after the girl. It´s not so easy. My money simply has to provide for everything. I have to make money. Last week I was down, with no money at all, the woman was complaining because I had no money for her ... She just can´t understand that you can´t be lucky all the time, and then you have to wait ... you know what happened? I met an old client who gave me five hundred, just like that, as a Christmas gift. God, I paid the damn woman and then I could finally breathe ... Yeah, you better believe it."

This week looks like it´s going to be cool. Summer is here, Christmas is over ...I would like to get a haircut. No, I´m not going to have it cut short - on the contrary, just to change it a little bit. My daughter has funny hair, so strange, but I think that in time it will get better. Many people ask me if her father is a foreigner. Yeah, I tell them, her dad is German ..."

I had the hell of a time when I was pregnant, but I didn´t stay at home all the time. I used to go to the disco with the other girls, just to see people and listen to the music. How could I stay at home thinking about problems? You can always get lucky and find someone who´ll buy you dinner or something like that. There was an American, one day, who spent a long time caressing my belly, and do you know how much he gave me? Three hundred dollars!"

"I think I´m going to have something to eat; I can´t go on just drinking beer. What am I going to eat? Look, the son of a bitch of a German is asking for the check. There are three others just arriving. The heavy one looks friendlier ..."

"Do you know a good fortune teller? One who works with cards or something? I´ve been thinking of taking a good look into my future. I used to know a wonderful one, but I think she died - well, she was a very old woman, the poor thing! Her time came. I believe that everybody has their own time ..."

"I´m not going to eat here. I think this place is not "the" place today. Say, wouldn´t you like to go somewhere else? Then we can share a pizza ... Last week I met a guy, you won´t believe me, I didn´t think much of him in the beginning, he being a Brazilian, but it was very nice ...When you gotta get lucky it just happens ..."

"Are you going to stay? Well, it´s up to you. I´m going for a walk. We gotta keep moving ..."

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