An Amazing story (Chapter one Part One) English version

    CHAPTER  ONE                                                         

                                                            It Started in Rio

     It all started about fifteen years ago in Brazil. At that time I was representing a civil engineering firm in Rio de Janeiro.

     My scarce knowledge of Portuguese meant, at times, I had to discuss business with the local government officers through an interpreter.

    That’s how I came to meet Juanita Delacruz. She was a local English teacher who had completed her degree as an interpreter.

     Juanita was in her early thirties and like many Brazilian women; was quite attractive with a full curvaceous body. She had brown shoulder-length, straight hair and almond eyes. Her lips were sensual, accentuated in a deep tone of lipstick, and the shape of her body was well outlined by her light dress; sensuality emanated from her.

      I told her that her husband must be proud of her and she was very beautiful.

     To which she replied sadly, ‘Unfortunately my marriage broke down a year ago. One day, returning from an overseas Rotary Club convention, I found that my husband of ten years had run away with somebody a lot younger. The girl was barely sixteen.’

‘I feel sorry for you, Juanita.’

   ‘It is typical of our men. Brazil is overpopulated with women. They say it’s seven to one, but it’s more likely we are three to one. For these reasons men are getting greedy. The younger women badly want to have a man of their own and therefore they are prepared to compete fiercely to get one. It is a sort of contest seeing women rivaling one against the other.’

    ‘And have you battled your own war against the other?’

     ‘I did what I could, but because of my job I had to keep a somber facade of respectability.’

      After that Juanita explained the mixing of believes in their culture, their religion and how frenzy people are at Carnival time.

      ‘At Carnival time Brazilian women are possessed by demons that compel them to frenetically dance sambas on the streets and this ignites an uncontrollable desire to have sex. By nature our blood is hot.’

      ‘This life is certainly much in contrast with the castigated Christianity that rules Brazil. After the two years that I lived here, I began to understand this country, and the conflicting ways that people rebel against the strict Catholic creed.’  

     ‘You see Bill; you must understand that in Brazil we have a strong Voodoo cult that was inherited from Africa when the first slaves arrived.’

     ‘Some time ago I read with interest about Voodooism and the way it runs hand in hand, with local Christianity. Apparently the church closes its eyes to the occult powers of this primitive religion to keep its followers. The Mulattos have cleverly mixed their mystical African beliefs when they were forced into Catholicism.’

  ‘That’s right Bill. I wish you could visit the northern regions to appreciate there contrasts. As a visitor you would see solemn processions with tall statues, candles glowing on the beaches, flowers tossed in the ocean, and mysterious ornaments around old women’s necks. The Meticios have their own way of expressing their spirituality.’

    ‘Is it true that in the early days of the colony those first African slaves concealed their deities into those that existed in the new compulsory religion?’

     ‘Very true, Bill. Their god of fertility Oxala, was recognized in the figure of Jesus, and Iemanija, the mother of all goddesses, was recognized as Mary. In this way they retained their own deities.’

     ‘I wish one day I could mix with them in their celebrations. I heard those festivities are intoxicating and beautiful. I have also been told that their ceremonies take place at night near rivers or lakes. I heard they also celebrate in open places and at others in a spiritual house, where the acolytes arrange flowers, candles, and ritual ornaments around the ceremonial site.’

      ‘Yes they chant and dance all night to the drums and at dawn their priestesses fall into a trance and then tell of the future. But don’t forget that you can be part of it only if you are properly introduced by a member.’

      ‘I want to find my way there at Carnival time, there will be a lot to see and enjoy.’

      ‘The Carnival, in those North Country towns, would be the best time to enjoy their folklore. You know that Mulattos are born musicians and music runs in their blood. They can create rhythm tapping a piece of wood on an old metal drum, and those nearby accompany the beat with equally improvised instruments, while the rest of them dance. Music is for them a drug in the bloodstream, and these fast rhythms inflame their sexual desires. Only in the country you will be part of the real spirit of the Mulattos with their spirited samba. The Carnival that is celebrated in Rio is mainly a tourist attraction.’

 ‘Still this is a fantastic celebration Juanita. I saw it myself last year here in Rio. I mixed with the crowd over the four days of celebration of the Carnival. It is an experience that I’ll never forget. It’s the most spectacular and colorful festival around the world that people can see and enjoy. At Carnival time, every individual on the street seems possessed by a demon. Everybody dances with each other while sweat flows in rivers, and the warm air carries around the eroticism created by the promiscuity of seminude bodies where men and women touching each other, flesh to flesh, wearing so little and drinking so much.’

     ‘That’s why tourist comes in Rio at Carnival time. The atmosphere is incandescent and euphoric. Normal daily worries of people are completely forgotten. There are no other desires, but what the sambas gives. The samba music mixed with their sweat and alcohol saturate the erotic desires, demanding to satisfy their sexual needs over the nearest road kerb, and under such euphoric ardor people let themselves go. Everything becomes possible in these circumstances. Their wildest desires explode freely. Women emanated their sexual scents, and men become attracted to them. But at Carnival time this is permitted and possible. No one object.’ 

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       After this conversation with Juanita I was able to better understand Brazilian women and their personality. Over the centuries they had learned the magical old Voodoos secrets, which taught them the way to make spells to attract and keep their man. They know how weak men are and how easily they fall under younger women spells. Marriages are continually at risk and those middle-aged women fight hard to keep their men in the fierce competition.

    Juanita concluded our discussion into this battle of Brazilian sexual life with a lower bitter note, ‘This is the real story of us and the eternal problem frustrating Brazilian women. All too many silently suffer the indignity of desertion by husbands and lovers. Don’t forget that in our corrupted country men are the privileged and are protected by the laws.’