TWO LADIES
They used to meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays, at two o´clock, and theirs was the quiet and delighting hour they spent together in the large parlor of the apartment on Atlantica avenue. The teacher was never late, so righteous and kind, bringing with her smiles and phrases from everyday life.
They spoke in English, since that´s what they were there for - the student wanted to practice the language. Soon into the beginning of each class a silent maid brought them coffee in small cups without interrupting the flow of conversation of precious stories. Their talks were pleasant, that was clear, phrases bringing up accounts, comments reinforcing memories that the short time did its best to cover ...
The teacher looked around her and rejoiced with the magnificent view of the sea offered by the large windows. Everything was ample, free to the looking, personal and beautiful. The grand piano held a dignified place in the room, imposing its importance to whomever saw it there. The teacher couldn´t help but imagine the music taking over the big parlor and then escaping through the open window, towards the sea.
The student watched the teacher, thinking of a distant time in the past when she used to work and follow schedules. She was not really young, the teacher, but she was certainly a woman of her time, as if she were part of a catalog of the year´s young ladies. She was always in fashion, clothes and hairdo, she had up-to-date words on her lips and seemed to live intensively the time of her life. The student was a bit frightened at the start when she confirmed the contrasts with herself, but soon she realized the convenience of such differences.
The student was a lonely woman, very rich, at peace, with solidly defined targets. She had a husband and two sons but never had anyone around, like it had been before. Her life was now isolated, serene, with no ups nor downs. No turbulences, she said of her life. She had even given up traveling. " I have traveled a lot," she told the teacher. Music was now her only companion in the big apartment.
The teacher of English was her most sincere link with the world. It was from her that she heard selected news, comments ever so spiced with updated remarks and all those stories about new events, parties and deliciously unimportant things. That´s what she liked the most. Nothing could be more interesting than the account of the little things that happened to a person who still had the need to face the world.
They used to read, too. Both of them were fond of literature and so they shared their favorite texts, discovering interesting passages and also finding out about themselves in the contexts.The teacher enjoyed listening to her student, her story, her marriage, the way she started her adult life. The time they had was not long but the two women, both so sensitive and intelligent, made it a valuable piece of time.
They seemed to study each other all the time. They reflected on their differences without the weight of envy or despise : a quiet contemplation was the tone of their atmosphere. Their main concern was the study of existence itself, and its universal characteristics. They respected each other in their different routes, one being rich and secluded and the other being in need of material (and emotional) stability.
The student still remembers the time lost in the past, the hours of so much chit-chat and so many stories. The teacher, in turn, keeps listening to the music filling the big parlor of the Atlantica avenue ...Could they have remained friends forever, or is it that life is like a patchwork quilt?...
...................................................................................................
Monday, February 28, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Things I love
Smell of coffee coming up the stairs from the kitchen, at seven in the morning. The idea of a breakfast table with bread, butter and jam , my cup and some cookies waiting for me …
Nanny smiling, looking up, trying to understand the beauty of the clouds …
My fifty-year-old son laughing so loud that I can hardly hear what the movie actors are saying …
A song that I used to know so well, that I liked so much, and now, what a surprise, they´re playing it on the radio …
A student who e-mailed to say that she would like to finish reading a book we had started discussing in class. She also says that she misses our chit-chats …
My younger son surprising me with his knowledge of philosophy …
Birds beginning to sing very early in the morning …
Dark clouds with a silver lining …
Chocolate icecream …
A friend who called just because he missed me…
Flowers in my garden …
Nanny smiling, looking up, trying to understand the beauty of the clouds …
My fifty-year-old son laughing so loud that I can hardly hear what the movie actors are saying …
A song that I used to know so well, that I liked so much, and now, what a surprise, they´re playing it on the radio …
A student who e-mailed to say that she would like to finish reading a book we had started discussing in class. She also says that she misses our chit-chats …
My younger son surprising me with his knowledge of philosophy …
Birds beginning to sing very early in the morning …
Dark clouds with a silver lining …
Chocolate icecream …
A friend who called just because he missed me…
Flowers in my garden …
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
BORN-AGAIN
SHE WAS A BORN-AGAIN WOMAN
She was sensual indeed.A tall woman with a lovely face, the smile of a child, and, to make things contradictory, a big and well-shaped ass that made men turn their heads. Brazilians are always attentive to asses, as if they had a vital importance in their sexual performance, or maybe as if they could tell a woman by her ass. Well, she looked like she was born for pleasure and lust, unable to hide the enormous thighs that showed from under her clothes.
She smoked and drank a lot, and she used to go to cafes every day to be able to see people and talk to someone. Yes, she lived alone. She used to go to the beach in the morning, she used to ride her bycicle every day, but it was only at the cafes that she could talk and listen to people. I remember having heard her say that she sometimes spent two or three days having nobody to talk to. All right, you may say. She´s better off being pretty and desired, and what´s wrong with going to cafes to drink beer in Copacabana?
What was wrong, my friend, is that she was a born-again woman, loyal to extremes to the principles of her church. She drank a lot and smoked, too, but she was a devout Christian. She followed the commandments of her church with fervor and she kept up a strong belief in her faith. Drinking and smoking were her only sins. THE ONLY ONES. Simple? No. I´ll try to show how complicated it was.
Sitting at a table in a cafe, a glass of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, she was the perfect magnet for a man who always showed up quickly, eager to start something he thought would end up having a happy ending. Her smile left him at ease, relaxed and inspired. The first phrases came spontaneously and easily as the smiles and the movement of the glasses. They both spoke continuously, a lively and intelligent conversation. Then, suddenly :
"-Do you believe in God?"
The question itself didn´t sound strange. It was a challenging matter and it might be the start for some interesting account, no more. No, it wasn´t.
The man answered as quickly as possible, trying not to go deep into the subject, but it always came back like a boomerang. There were new questions and confrontations to challenge his belief. He wondered if she was trying to test his intelligence, something like measuring his capability to express his thoughts and his knowledge. Why not? He tried for some time to respond to so many philosophical enquiries.
Suddenly, a bit tired for the effort made, he looked around him and noticed with surprise that nobody else shared the discussion. He could only see smiles and funny words in other people´s lips, and he questioned himself : "Wasn´t that what he was there for?" He looked at the woman in front of him and then at the others, in search of an explanation. He had to do something. He had lost himself in the heat of the conversation, but, of course, what he really wanted was to be with a beautiful woman and have a good time.
He tried to change the subject, but it was of no use. To his surprise she made it a question of honor to continue the discussion. He then imposed his right to give up the subject and talk about other things. That was certainly the moment when the situation turned serious. The man, whoever it was, never accepted the fact as it proved to be. There he was, at two or three in the morning, after many glasses of beer, facing a woman that he now did not recognize as the one he had seen smiling at the cafe. He thought it must have been his own fault; something was wrong, but he couldn´t reason - he was tired.
He then gave up the intelligent talk. He thought to himself that she was a hot woman and "the night was young". She had gotten up twice to go to the restroom and he had checked her beautiful ass and her magnificent thighs. Why, he had been involved in a silly discussion that would take him nowhere.It was time to take control of the situation, to make things become more pleasant ...
"-Let´s go somewhere else. This cafe is closing." The answer came quickly: "-Yes, let´s drink at the kiosk at the beach."
In the open air, looking at the starry sky and feeling the breeze from the sea, now a perfect atmosphere for quiet and romance, the man felt he now had command of the situation. "Time flies when you have good company ...It´s five o´clock now! Let´s get going. I live near here and I wouldn´t like to leave you. Let´s go to my apartment ...
"I wouldn´t go to bed with a man who was not my husband, linked to me by wedlock. If you´re thinking about sex, I would like to inform you that the angels don´t sing to the ears of those who make love without the Lord´s blessings ..."
He thought the sun was rising too fast. He was so tired, but he felt he could walk or maybe even bathe in the sea - he felt mentally tired, unable to understand things, unable to reason. The woman was in no hurry. She seemed renewed by the breaking of the day and ordered a new can of beer from the sleepy kiosk attendant.At the same time she tried to re-start the conversation. They were alone there, the first people beginning their early morning walk and a new day imposing its routine. Nobody ever saw the moment when the man finally left, whether depressed or not, revolted or not. And neither did anybody see her face, coming back home at 8 o´clock in the morning, ready for a good day´s sleep. She was a sensual, tall woman with the smile of a child and a magnificent ass ...
She was sensual indeed.A tall woman with a lovely face, the smile of a child, and, to make things contradictory, a big and well-shaped ass that made men turn their heads. Brazilians are always attentive to asses, as if they had a vital importance in their sexual performance, or maybe as if they could tell a woman by her ass. Well, she looked like she was born for pleasure and lust, unable to hide the enormous thighs that showed from under her clothes.
She smoked and drank a lot, and she used to go to cafes every day to be able to see people and talk to someone. Yes, she lived alone. She used to go to the beach in the morning, she used to ride her bycicle every day, but it was only at the cafes that she could talk and listen to people. I remember having heard her say that she sometimes spent two or three days having nobody to talk to. All right, you may say. She´s better off being pretty and desired, and what´s wrong with going to cafes to drink beer in Copacabana?
What was wrong, my friend, is that she was a born-again woman, loyal to extremes to the principles of her church. She drank a lot and smoked, too, but she was a devout Christian. She followed the commandments of her church with fervor and she kept up a strong belief in her faith. Drinking and smoking were her only sins. THE ONLY ONES. Simple? No. I´ll try to show how complicated it was.
Sitting at a table in a cafe, a glass of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, she was the perfect magnet for a man who always showed up quickly, eager to start something he thought would end up having a happy ending. Her smile left him at ease, relaxed and inspired. The first phrases came spontaneously and easily as the smiles and the movement of the glasses. They both spoke continuously, a lively and intelligent conversation. Then, suddenly :
"-Do you believe in God?"
The question itself didn´t sound strange. It was a challenging matter and it might be the start for some interesting account, no more. No, it wasn´t.
The man answered as quickly as possible, trying not to go deep into the subject, but it always came back like a boomerang. There were new questions and confrontations to challenge his belief. He wondered if she was trying to test his intelligence, something like measuring his capability to express his thoughts and his knowledge. Why not? He tried for some time to respond to so many philosophical enquiries.
Suddenly, a bit tired for the effort made, he looked around him and noticed with surprise that nobody else shared the discussion. He could only see smiles and funny words in other people´s lips, and he questioned himself : "Wasn´t that what he was there for?" He looked at the woman in front of him and then at the others, in search of an explanation. He had to do something. He had lost himself in the heat of the conversation, but, of course, what he really wanted was to be with a beautiful woman and have a good time.
He tried to change the subject, but it was of no use. To his surprise she made it a question of honor to continue the discussion. He then imposed his right to give up the subject and talk about other things. That was certainly the moment when the situation turned serious. The man, whoever it was, never accepted the fact as it proved to be. There he was, at two or three in the morning, after many glasses of beer, facing a woman that he now did not recognize as the one he had seen smiling at the cafe. He thought it must have been his own fault; something was wrong, but he couldn´t reason - he was tired.
He then gave up the intelligent talk. He thought to himself that she was a hot woman and "the night was young". She had gotten up twice to go to the restroom and he had checked her beautiful ass and her magnificent thighs. Why, he had been involved in a silly discussion that would take him nowhere.It was time to take control of the situation, to make things become more pleasant ...
"-Let´s go somewhere else. This cafe is closing." The answer came quickly: "-Yes, let´s drink at the kiosk at the beach."
In the open air, looking at the starry sky and feeling the breeze from the sea, now a perfect atmosphere for quiet and romance, the man felt he now had command of the situation. "Time flies when you have good company ...It´s five o´clock now! Let´s get going. I live near here and I wouldn´t like to leave you. Let´s go to my apartment ...
"I wouldn´t go to bed with a man who was not my husband, linked to me by wedlock. If you´re thinking about sex, I would like to inform you that the angels don´t sing to the ears of those who make love without the Lord´s blessings ..."
He thought the sun was rising too fast. He was so tired, but he felt he could walk or maybe even bathe in the sea - he felt mentally tired, unable to understand things, unable to reason. The woman was in no hurry. She seemed renewed by the breaking of the day and ordered a new can of beer from the sleepy kiosk attendant.At the same time she tried to re-start the conversation. They were alone there, the first people beginning their early morning walk and a new day imposing its routine. Nobody ever saw the moment when the man finally left, whether depressed or not, revolted or not. And neither did anybody see her face, coming back home at 8 o´clock in the morning, ready for a good day´s sleep. She was a sensual, tall woman with the smile of a child and a magnificent ass ...
Monday, February 14, 2005
I´m back home!
I´M BACK HOME!
I lived in Rio for ages, since I was five years old until recently, but I sometimes feel the need to fill my eyes with its immense beauty. That´s what Rio is – beautiful, very beautiful, so beautiful that it doesn´t demand too much from you : you just have to look at what nature granted the “cariocas” and feel the pleasant sensation of being there. If you ever go to Rio, don´t fuss too much here and there, trying to do many things . Just sit at a café on the boardwalk (there are many cafés) and stay there for hours , sensing the breese, the smell from the sea and the rhythm of people passing by … Forget what life is like, and try to learn new things from the new faces you can see near you.
I always talked about different subjects with my two sons, and, this time in Rio, being in Copacabana as usual, I remembered what one of them said one day. We were talking about a woman (a famous actress in Brasil) who had been his date the night before. When his brother asked him how she had performed sexually, he said that her beauty was good enough for him. That beauty can be so striking and satisfying that it becomes the pleasure in itself. Maybe I can compare Copacabana to a beautiful woman – there isn´t much to do other than going to the beach but you can be very happy, just being there.
I missed my blogger friends and my computer.(God, how can anybody live without writing?) and, most of all, I missed Mariana, the one I call Nanny, my one-year-old granddaughter. I was afraid she might have forgotten about me, but no, when she saw me she came to my arms at once and spent the whole day trying to make up for the lost time. Life is going on as usual, my son overworking, my grandson is going back to school … My dear Saturnyne, remember that we talked about him? He´s much better now, making plans and all. My mother used to say that time is the best medicine.
I´ll be busy now trying to sell my book, which is about Copacabana. I intend to publish here some of the stories, for you to have an idea and, at the same time, make your comments. A famous pop singer said that “a dream that you dream by yourself is only a dream that you dream by yourself, but a dream that you dream together with other people is reality.”
I lived in Rio for ages, since I was five years old until recently, but I sometimes feel the need to fill my eyes with its immense beauty. That´s what Rio is – beautiful, very beautiful, so beautiful that it doesn´t demand too much from you : you just have to look at what nature granted the “cariocas” and feel the pleasant sensation of being there. If you ever go to Rio, don´t fuss too much here and there, trying to do many things . Just sit at a café on the boardwalk (there are many cafés) and stay there for hours , sensing the breese, the smell from the sea and the rhythm of people passing by … Forget what life is like, and try to learn new things from the new faces you can see near you.
I always talked about different subjects with my two sons, and, this time in Rio, being in Copacabana as usual, I remembered what one of them said one day. We were talking about a woman (a famous actress in Brasil) who had been his date the night before. When his brother asked him how she had performed sexually, he said that her beauty was good enough for him. That beauty can be so striking and satisfying that it becomes the pleasure in itself. Maybe I can compare Copacabana to a beautiful woman – there isn´t much to do other than going to the beach but you can be very happy, just being there.
I missed my blogger friends and my computer.(God, how can anybody live without writing?) and, most of all, I missed Mariana, the one I call Nanny, my one-year-old granddaughter. I was afraid she might have forgotten about me, but no, when she saw me she came to my arms at once and spent the whole day trying to make up for the lost time. Life is going on as usual, my son overworking, my grandson is going back to school … My dear Saturnyne, remember that we talked about him? He´s much better now, making plans and all. My mother used to say that time is the best medicine.
I´ll be busy now trying to sell my book, which is about Copacabana. I intend to publish here some of the stories, for you to have an idea and, at the same time, make your comments. A famous pop singer said that “a dream that you dream by yourself is only a dream that you dream by yourself, but a dream that you dream together with other people is reality.”
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