The Interior

I spent the weekend in Cabaceiras do Paraguacu, the interior of my host mother. That’s usually how it’s explained (As in, “Oh, last weekend we went to Carol’s interior"). It refers to where the family-base is, usually where Christmases are spent and the grandparents (and a few bachelor uncles, maybe) still live. The whole family wanted me to notice how big the house was (and it was…about 9 or 11 beds, I think) compared with the smaller apartment I live in in the city. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had urbanization explained to me, but it felt a little different when I knew the names of the players.

I swam in the rio, ate fish with my fingers and took several naps, because, as it was explained to me, "Rachel, there’s nothing to do here. Sleep." Then I woke up, ate some crackers with my host mom’s dad and then sat on the sofa and held hands with my host mom’s mother (Da Da) as she made plans for my next visit to see her.


I visited the museum for the poet and abolitionist Antonio Frederico de Castro Alves, who was born in Cabaceiras. He had quite a few lovers. Their pictures covered a whole wall in the museum. This might explain why:

AS DUAS FLORES

São duas flores unidas
São duas rosas nascidas
Talvez do mesmo arrebol,
Vivendo,no mesmo galho,
Da mesma gota de orvalho,
Do mesmo raio de sol.

Unidas, bem como as penas
das duas asas pequenas
De um passarinho do céu...
Como um casal de rolinhas,
Como a tribo de andorinhas
Da tarde no frouxo véu.

Unidas, bem como os prantos,
Que em parelha descem tantos
Das profundezas do olhar...
Como o suspiro e o desgosto,
Como as covinhas do rosto,
Como as estrelas do mar.

Unidas... Ai quem pudera
Numa eterna primavera
Viver, qual vive esta flor.
Juntar as rosas da vida
Na rama verde e florida,
Na verde rama do amor!