He smacks me on the bum. He’s the man. Men are soft when their hearts are on fire. Lone boats sail around looking for home, for earth, some turn pirates from salt water and desperation and start robbing. Others pilgrims, striders, or even lovers of the big sea keeping them afloat and the stars that lead them.
But even the lovers look for earth, and when they spot it on the horizon they tremble with longing, hope, and the most crushing of fears.
I kiss the ocean-heart of my merman husband, full of stars and space. I can wrap myself in his arms at night and float around in universes in infinity. Until he starts kicking me in his sleep and I slip into another bed to dream. Who do you run from, in your sleep, my love?
Tenderness makes my skin sweat honey, where he doesn’t drink it, it evaporates to perfume to air.
2/2: Me and Andrea wake up at 5 am to go down to the ocean and offer presents to Iemanjá, the queen of the sea, today is her day. The sun is still sleepy and only tickles a little bit while giving a golden glow to the assembly of people dressed in white for the ceremonies on the beach. We buy flowers and let them sail out into the ocean to meet the mermaid. Then make our way through the party people still in the street from yesterday, uncoordinatedly drunk, to go home for coffee and more sleep.
I go out again at noon, and the first person outside the door to make kissing sounds at me with a most unpleasant energy receives a silent salute from my middle finger. He looks back at me, face wrenged in disgusts “ugly!” he yells at me. Got a feeling this goddess celebration might have been colonized by machismo baiano, with its own uniquely low-self-esteemed need to assert itself in the most obnoxious (or even violent) ways.
Eileen is leaving today, so after a few hours under a merciless sun in the sweaty crowd I follow her to Barra and leave her in a magic taxi bound for Hamburg. I stay at the shadowy side of the hill where Christ opens his arms around Salvador, looking into the ocean until my emotional body stops its agitation. Then walk back towards Andrea’s house. The sun is setting in the water, the sky full of soft rosy pillows. As I make my way back towards the party I become painfully aware of how alone, tall, blond and female I am. The amount of harrasment totally clean of any kind of invitation, appreciation or respect is overwhelming. I feel like a steak on legs walking counter current against a pack of starving dogs. Andrea texts me she is out, so I have to wait an hour or so in the street. Longest hour of my life.
3/2: I don’t go out until after lunch, and even then everything around me agitates me, my body is in an extreme state of stress. Am totally traumatized, I hate it because I am usually really good at putting up an unpenetrable facade for the unwanted touches and talking to just slide of like tortilla de batatas off of brand new teflon (xD) but yesterday was waay too much. Because my goddess celebration got hijacked, and because I got scared for real. I’m gonna need some time, becuz right now Brazil can go to hell..