12/20/2019 So here I am. In Genoa. In the harbour. Alone. On the boat that we brought here. I was supposed to be on another boat heading for the Bahamas.
I walk through the streets. It’s raining. My shoes are wet. Actually since the first day on the boat. I sit in a dry place and enjoy a cappuccino.
I actually have the opportunity to travel through cities to Mallorca or Malaga until mid-January. There I can then jump on the boat towards the Bahamas. Sounds pretty good.
Christmas is around the corner. Actually, I don’t attach much importance to such a date, also like New Year. The contemplative of this time has been lost in our society, also that it is actually the “celebration of love”.
The word “actually” bothers me. Either so or not. As if you want to avoid making a clear statement before deciding.
21.12.2019 I get a message from the skipper that I should start with him on January 4th. So the idea for the city tour, then jump onto the boat, is falling into the water. Too bad. I was preparing for Christmas in Marseille.
For the past two years I have organized a Christmas party for friends. This year I don’t even know where to spend Christmas, and with whom. It actually doesn’t matter. So now it’s enough. This constant relativization. The word “actually” has been deleted from now on.
22.12.2019 I am on the train to Lavagna. Now I know where to spend the holidays. On a finca in the middle of the mountains of Italy. The closest bus stop is an hour’s walk away. Peace and nature, that’s for sure. I just don’t know yet who is expecting me there.
05.01.2020 in the morning. I am in the bathroom of the finca and brush my hair. The 3-year-old Brazilian girl comes in: “Você vai embora?”. Wait a moment. She can’t know that at all. I made the decision to leave yesterday alone before sleeping. I look into the little girl’s big eyes and nod. Her eyes get even bigger and she tells me to stay because I am her friend (amiga).
Amiga. That’s what she calls me from the start. She only said my name once or twice, otherwise: Amiga. Whenever she eats something, she shares it with me. If her mother talks to me and she doesn’t get enough attention from me, she forbids her mother to talk to me and says “É minha amiga.” (She is my friend).
“Sim, sou sua amiga” (yes, I’m your friend), I tell her, still standing in the bathroom, close to tears. She realizes that I am determined to leave today, so she wants to go with me – because I am her friend. I’m lost for words. It is heartbreaking. The little girl and I go to the kitchen. Your mother comes in. We are the same age. We talked all day in Portuguese or English. But now I can’t speak because the little one is faster: “Amiga vai embora!”. Yes. I go. Although I can still stay. Even though we made friends so well. Although I don’t know where. My little friend’s mother hugs me.
We are friends too. Very good ones. From the first moment. When I was picked up from the train station in Lavagna, it was like seeing a friend I have known for ages. We have now spent two weeks together. In the mountains. Harvest vegetables. Walks. To bake. Enjoy the sun. Cleaning. Receive guests. To sing. Cook. Make a fire. Playing with the children. Swing in the hammock. Have an extensive breakfast, with wonderful, valuable conversations. We laugh a lot together and we share our attitudes to life. It is a friendship full of respect and mutual support, full of trust and humor. She showed me what it really means to look at the world with loving eyes. So I look at the connections I have in life and think of my friendships. The people I care about are far away, but closer than ever. All the friends I seem to have left behind are always by my side. And new friendships are added. Even if I’m currently a traveler. Friendship knows neither time nor space.
We hold each other in our arms. “Sim, eu vou embora,” I say. Probably just to make it clear to myself. It’s time to go somewhere else. I still have no information from the skipper when we can set sail. But my traveling heart wants to go on. I almost don’t dare to release the hug because my face is now completely wet of tears. Fortunately, we are among friends and how could it be otherwise: her eyes are at least as crying like mine. If I think about it, I could actually stay. Actually.
