Prelude to the Rainbow: unburying the memories

I’ve been talking a lot about my memoir, “The End of the Rainbow”, in recent weeks. Well, we’re getting there, folks, because I went back to Brazil, where it all began, and unburied the treasure itself.

It’s been almost twenty days since I came back to Brazil. Actually, it will be twenty days tomorrow. My head started to figure out the reason why I chose to come back here only in the last three, but I can’t help it. My intention was to carry on working in Italy for seven, maybe nine months, save some euros to put in my bank account here and see them triplicate. Thus my Christmas holiday would have been granted.

But no. I escaped barely fifty days in my new job (I’ll resume it soon, anyway, they like me a lot), left everybody puzzled and confused and here I am.

I came here because of an unjustified fear. I have a very strong and complicated mother, the one who likes to keep control and dominate, she did this to me all my life, that’s why everything I started, it never got finished, but simply crumbled. Piece by piece until strong wind swept it away. When you try to fulfill someone else’s destiny, you will never live your life. When you try to make someone else’s dream come true, you will be frustrated forever. And that dream will never come true. And your mother will always blame it on you.

So I cut it short once and for all.

Forty days. Far from everyone and everything: my disappointed mother, my soon to be ex-wife, my super job team, my friends, my places and my lost hopes.

Beside taking my time to reorganize my life, I went visiting old friends and relatives from the part of my wife. They love me anyway. Brazil is the land of many things; lovely people is one of them. Especially inland people. I am currently in Caldas Novas, a tourist centered city because of its thermal water. And amidst heat, hugs, comforting words, prayers and good food, I headed to the hostel of my dear friend Aurea, where she lives with her youngest son Lucas, fifteen, the last of six children. Aurea doesn’t take reservations anymore, she just made the hostel her home and there she makes plans to move north-east.

Her hostel is called Val Dos Anjos (literally: Angel Valley) and that’s where I hid my seventeen notebooks that make up the memoir of my three years in Brazil.

Since my memories betrayed me, in fact what I found in the boxes were just sixteen notebooks. Book fifteen being missing. But there’s more to it: the first six notebooks were filled while still in Italy, in the months preceding our journey to Brazil, so the actual memoir goes from notebook seven to sixteen, making only ten notebooks of episodes taking place in Brazil.

Anyway, it is a good amount of material: the notebooks are thick and full of words, I haven’t left a white space and believe me, there’s a lot of story in there. More than one. I flipped through the pages, the paper cracked under my hands and my eyes took a glimpse of some sentences here and there. In a flash, I was drawn back in time, a time that doesn’t exist anymore. I saw words of love from my wife, dedications and even pictures dating back to our wedding day. We are divorcing, yes, but it is all so fresh. The wound is still quite open and when I looked and read all that, it bled. It bled like hell.

Women recover faster from inner turmoil caused by separation and divorce. Men? No. Men are weak. They may seem strong but they act. A lot. We are good actors, as far as reality doesn’t strike. But it strikes and when it does, it is curtain call.

My dear reader. Clever and gentle friend, follower. Listener. I am about to disclose a world you never imagined could exist. Soon you will know the beauty of a land we all underestimated, a world that reunites all the races of this planet and people who face daily tragedy and trouble with the purest smile on their face. They are the Rainbow people; in their veins runs the blood of ancestrals, the natives and the invaders alike and the legend says that almost none of them is less than beautiful. And believe me: they are.

All of this and more, dear reader, I’ll give you in the coming months.

A long journey awaits, my clever friend and I grant you that everytime will be a whole new adventure. So tell me: are you willing to take off?


6 thoughts on “Prelude to the Rainbow: unburying the memories

Add yours

  1. My therapist has told me it’s a sign of my strong mental health that I went and got myself into a serious relationship right after my divorce. In any ways, it had been dead for year. I may have bounced back quickly in some ways, but I’m not too sure of your statement that women recover faster from the inner turmoil of divorce. It’s all quite situational. I have no doubt I have a lifetime ahead of healing from the wounds of abandonment, but at the end of the day we all have to carry on and act to a degree. The passage of time always helps. Best to you in your memoir journey.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I guess it is situational. All the women I knew were indeed very strong as they talked to me about their experiences, some of them were ex’s and some not.
      Thank you, Jeri. All the love.

      Liked by 1 person

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