Dance Lest We All Fall Down - Margaret Willson [137]
Black Conscience Week occurred while I was in Salvador, so there were marches and talks and events which the girls attended. One of the girls, Maria, also had her birthday during that week. Maria was born in a small town in rural Bahia, one of eight children of several fathers. Shortly after her birth, her mother abandoned her, and she somehow survived, mostly on the streets and by roaming the countryside. Eventually, when she was about six, she began working as a servant for people in the area, washing clothes, getting water, doing the hard work. But people considered her wild, almost feral, and mentally deranged. It was accepted that she could never learn to read or write. Her mother came back, and Maria went to live with her for a bit, but then her mother decided to come to Salvador and leave Maria in a house full of male quasi-relatives. It was clear to everyone in the area that she would be used and raped constantly in this situation. Someone contacted Rita and asked if she could help. Rita went to the village, met Maria (who wouldn’t even look at her) and the mother. She convinced the mother to bring Maria with her to Salvador and enroll the girl in Bahia Street.
Maria has now been in Bahia Street for one year. She can read and write, and it is clear that she is very intelligent. She lives with her mother, who essentially ignores her, and comes to Bahia Street in addition to attending public school. She still has grave emotional difficulties, but has become part of a group of Bahia Street girls her own age, and these girls like her very much. So, at the Black Consciousness event on her birthday, all the other girls of her group bounced up and started shouting happy birthday for her, then started chanting “Maria! Maria!.” This caused quite a disturbance in the event proceedings, but being Bahia, the audience joined in, the event halted for a few moments to shout happy birthday to Maria, and then continued. It should be noted that the Bahia Street girls formed quite a large contingent and almost all the young people at the event. The other participants were delighted to see young African-Brazilians attending and were quite indulgent toward them. Maria was embarrassed but very pleased.
As regards Maria as well, it is amazing what decent food can do. She was tiny when she arrived, but now, after eating her good meal a day at Bahia Street and the snacks she gets there, she has shot up and is now a strong-looking and beautiful young girl. We shall see how she does this year, but everyone at Bahia Street is on her side.
So, I could go on for more pages, but I had better stop until the next letter. Don’t get wet in this rain!
All the best—as always,
Margaret
twenty-nine
evolution
I was packing up the office for the night when James called. His timing could not have been worse, for him. I ripped into him with all I had thought about that day, leaving him little room on either side to speak.
“You sound like you’re mad at me, Margaret. I like you. I don’t want you mad at me. I just don’t want you to go any further in what is clearly a serious mistake.”
I phoned Joyce the next day and asked her out for a beer. I told her what Rita had said. I spoke with her about the difference she’d made to Bahia Street, of the investment all of us—her, Rita, myself, others—had made to accomplish what we had.
“I never wanted to say I felt betrayed,” Joyce said. “I didn’t really. I was just shocked. I was hurt, I guess. And James made me speak before I wanted to. I got scared. Although we’ve never met, I feel I know Rita. I think she and I are, in a deep way, very similar.”
That night, when I got home, I telephoned Almuht. “Why don’t you and Mo do a three-way conversation with Rita and Rubim?” I suggested. “I’ll just stay out of the conversation completely. That way you can ask Rita any questions you want directly; you