Dance Lest We All Fall Down - Margaret Willson [119]
Karey had had a hard time in Brazil, and on that day we’d sat together with Rita at the lunch table in Salvador, my heart had gone out to her. But she returned to the States with a strength I had not seen in her before, a courage that comes only with depth of understanding. I was proud of her.
It’s strange how times and the world change, how what we think is secure is not, and how dangerous is complacency. When Rita and I first started Bahia Street, we spoke about the political dangers inherent in the project for her. During the military dictatorship in Brazil, the people who protested and survived were often those with international connections who could get them out. Many people lived in exile for years. Both Rita and I understood how easily a shift in government could occur again. And how political was the agenda of Bahia Street.
So when we started, I told Rita, “Rita, get a passport. If anything happens, if the situation in Brazil changes so that you are in danger in any way, if you fear the oppression of your government, I will ensure that you get a ticket to Amsterdam where you do not require a visa. You can stay with friends there until we figure out a way to get you a visa to the States. And, don’t worry about the money. We can take care of that.”
How the world had changed in so few years. Each time I now returned to the States, Rita worried about me. She had lived through the emergence of the dictatorship in Brazil and was now terrified that this was what was happening in the States. I told her things were not that bad yet, but she was not reassured. One day, when we were speaking on the phone, she said to me, “Margaret, make sure you keep your Brazilian visa up to date. That way, if things get bad there, you can get a flight down here immediately.” She paused, knowing she was echoing words we both remembered. “And don’t worry about the money. When you get here, we can take care of you.”
To a Mailing List of 420: January 8, 2003
Dear Donors, Friends, and Volunteers,
A brilliant winter sun reflects off the wind-touched waters beside my office. It makes silent, undulating shadows, creating an illusion that the walls themselves are moving. It blurs those boundaries between what is solid and what is air, reminding me of how quickly impermanence affects our bodies and the world in which we live.
And with Bahia Street I am also writing about reflections. I just returned from possibly the most joyous visit I have made to Bahia in years. Everything at the Bahia Street Center is going well. The infrastructure is continuing to improve. Rita now has an administrative assistant, Val, who answers phones and does the computer work (the Center has an ancient computer that Val makes do remarkable things, including Excel.) And this year, we will enroll thirty girls in the program! (Cough cough—this terrifies me a bit.)
I arrived at the end-of-school year and was greeted with remarkable results from the girls. All the younger girls passed their end of year exams with grades of 8 or more (out of 10). This result reflects impressive hard work on the part of the girls, increased rigor in the selection process, the excellence and dedication of the teachers, and the dedication of Rita herself. I think we can all be proud. This represents a huge success for all of us.
Those who passed with the highest marks included Aninha, the girl whose father was assassinated. That she witnessed his brutal killing haunts her. The new Total Health Project has allowed us to give her particular help and hire a visiting nurse, as well as Fio, our new Director of Curriculum. Aninha’s grandmother comes often as a volunteer. Fio is being particularly caring, as Aninha seems to want male attention. Gradually, she has grown calmer. She has discovered a fascination with science and loves to do experiments. Aninha