December Closes

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Giving of yourself is not a taking away of who you are.

It is a refinement of that which you most admire about yourself – and a direct confrontation with that which you always wished to hide. The constant push toward development and understanding furrows the softly lines edges of the beauty we believe strength possesses. As individualistic as we are, we crave the solidarity that commits us to a whole, a more unifying and possibly gratifying existence. In order to fully comprehend what we are doing and why we are here requires stepping out into the darkness with fingertips strained before a world that holds nothing but secret passageways and deadly corridors. Without knowing our way we struggle as we take our first steps into the narrow, uneven path that opens up the world into an abyss of unfathomable depth. A reality awaits you and yet you stand still and trembling, catching your breath for fear that the air you are accustomed to breathing may no longer suffice. When one enters uncharted territory there is nothing to do but pray – for comfort, for understanding, direction. And yet as time passes, that which we pray for arrives in unexpected whims and delightful images. Follow the multitude before you and frustration wears you like a scar; take an about-face and bump straight into fate. The unsure gait of an inexperienced soul with a warrior’s heart; a restlessness that longs for calm, yet finds it in the unlikeliest of places (perhaps of volcanic nature).

Giving of yourself is not a taking away of who you are.

It is a mirror in which all that was once distorted focuses sharp to become clear and defined. It lacks the comforting lies of a tilted reflection, because you are now able to see everything, yet unsure of whether or not you want to see it. It forces the unwilling to stare imperfection in the face and dare to call it beautiful.


Friday, December 22, 2006

I went to a Christmas gathering for all the monitorias (teachers) at the Jardim (kindergarten) today. I found myself sitting in a tiny colorful classroom. Below me was a miniature chair made for a four-year-old and above me were stuffed animals, paper drawings made by the children and a variety of other festive decorations hanging along a string that stretched across the room. Morning light shifted in even folds along the edges of the walls covered in artwork made by tiny hands. Outside I could hear the bell-like laughter of other monitorias speaking Kriolu amidst delicate flowers in the garden.

My good friend and neighbor gave birth about a month ago. She sat nursing the tiny light-skinned bundle in her arms as I stared up at a dangling clear globe above my head. I began to talk to her about America and when she asked me to take the globe down I untied it and held it between my fingers to demonstrate where I lived. We sat in the peaceful stillness of the dim classroom and held the map of the world up to the golden light of the sun. She sat asking me questions about where I had been and what I had done there. My fingers traced Costa Rica, Europe, Sweden, Japan, Brazil, Africa…and back to Cape Verde. Looking at the size of this tiny dot of an island amidst the overwhelming magnitude of this world I wondered at how a small place could define so much of me.


Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Time is escaping me. Day by day I feverishly attempt to keep up amidst the mad rush to slow down and enjoy the moments that make up my fleeting life. I open my eyes to the warm rays of morning sun; I feel the pounding of my running shoes along the jagged lifts of cobblestone road; the ridges of the washboard rub firmly in forced thrusts along the palms of my hands; pools of water run down my face as I pour my cold bath above my head from a large old can of grao – the hair along my skin rises firmly in indignation against gusts of wind that rush through the open window. Even Christmas comes and goes without much of a blink. I opened my eyes, lived a few hours, and away it went. Without family and the traditions I am used to, the day sped along as quickly and unassuming as any other day, like a child attempting to slip past a crowd of adults engaged in weighty conversation. I innocently peeked out, tested the view, saw the coast was clear and sped full force into the next day … fearing I will be sucked into the gravity of life … I´ve decided to stay right here and not grow up.