Today I woke up earlier than usual. In fact, I woke up to the morning noise that seagulls and sandpipers make by the sea. It's spring and the darkness and cold of winter are getting further and further away here on the island, but, after being away from home for so long, I confess: I really miss waking up to the crowing of the roosters, in that crowing that only those who has lived in the countryside is that you know. Ahhh, definitely, the poet (Gonçalves Dias) was right: “The birds that chirp here don't chirp like there”.
I jump out of bed to prepare breakfast, but I'm not going out anywhere, you can't leave the house these days, we're in social isolation because of the new coronavirus pandemic and Belchior's song "Galos noite e quintais" starts to play. hammer here with full force:
“I was as happy as a river
An animal, a flock of sparrows
Like a rooster, when there was
When there were roosters, nights and yards
But the dark time came and, by force, made me
The evil that force always does…”
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Closed borders, limitations, quarantine, uncertainties haunt us all, and the dark time that the music says has certainly arrived.
On TV the Prime Minister of Canada asks: “Please Stay Home” – Please stay home!
The smell of coffee permeates the house. House. I remember the smell of coffee around the house in España, my cute cat Serena, my children, the flowery garden and the sun, ahhh, that sun of my Mato Grosso do Sul!
It is true that space is more restricted here in the Victorian house than in the sunny Campo Grande house, the climate is also different, the food is different, the customs, the language. The whole family is far away, but the faith that accompanies me is the same: This will pass, of course it will!
Meanwhile, the hours go by and I write, cook, study, exercise on the mat, take care of the house and, between one activity and another, I ask for divine protection and nudge my children and my mother over the phone: “Stay at home, wash your hands. hands”, without realizing that, in addition to being a mother, I am also a daughter, and my mother must be exactly like me here: in prayer for her children.
The day goes on inside, I look out the window, no one on the street, everything is still, even so, my poet soul, which is enchanted by the simple things in life, sings to the sound of Belchior and entwines itself in every bit of “Canção do ExĂlio ” by the poet Gonçalves Dias, definitely not, the birds that chirp here don't chirp like there!
*Geise Machulek – Vancouver Island – Victoria, British Columbia, Canada.
