Dance Lest We All Fall Down - Margaret Willson [145]
“We’ve done something good,” Rita said.
“I think so.” I swallowed the last of my water. “We’ve known each other almost fifteen years, you realize that, Rita?”
“And still friends.” Rita laughed and poured half her water into my glass for a toast. “To friendship,” she said, raising her glass.
“To friendship.” We laughed again as we saw tears in each other’s eyes.
“Excuse me.” The waiter stood beside our table with our check. “You can pay up front, if you’re ready.” We looked at him, startled. “The gentleman and his friend are returning. The older gentleman may want to call the police and he may want you to get involved…”
“Of course.” Rita took the check. “Thank you.” I fished some bills from my pocket and handed them to the waiter as a tip.
“The waiter, of course, saw nothing,” Rita said as we paid our bill. “No.”
As we walked into the street we began to giggle, a releasing giggle that simmered, spurted, and could not be contained. “We are terrible,” I stammered. “We are mean, horrible people.”
“No, no,” Rita said. “He’ll be all right. It’ll be part of his Tales of Bahia when he gets home. And anyway, you’re not laughing at him, you’re just laughing.”
I looked at Rita’s beloved face reflected in the street lamp and felt tears again. I laughed a different kind of laugh. “You’re right,” I said. “I’m just laughing.”
To a Mailing List of 800: March 18, 2005
Dear All,
I have been walking in the Arboretum. It is more beautiful than I have ever seen it. The cherry trees, the magnolia, everything in flower. I stand under a canopy of scent and color, the light somehow changing texture as it filters through this haze of bloom. And inside me, a peaceful exhilaration stands. Part of this exhilaration is the intense beauty of our natural world, but part is because of two milestones Bahia Street has reached.
At the beginning of March, with the start of this Bahia school year, Bahia Street in Salvador moved into the new Center. Rita e-mailed me a notice all in capitals. “CALL ME!” she wrote. “CELEBRATE!” Bahia Street will no longer be renting a space in Salvador. We are operating from our own building, bought last year and reconstructed by Rita, the staff, construction crew, volunteers, and neighbors in Salvador.
Of course, the building still needs work. The original plans are for a four-story building and we now have a two-story one (which is still larger than the space we were renting before). The walls are rough but painted bright colors. There seems to be a problem with the phone connection going into the building, so the phone is somehow connected outside. This means that right now everyone has to go into the street to talk on the phone.
Such annoyances, however, are small. As a symbol—and reality—of accomplishment and power, this achievement is huge. It is a milestone we can celebrate together. Toast yourselves tonight and perhaps we will feel each other’s energy.
The second milestone is very close to my heart. As all of you know, the aim of Bahia Street is to provide young women and girls in Brazil an opportunity for a quality education that will allow them to pass the university exam and have a chance for professional equality. Since we start with young girls, this is a long-term goal. The difficulties the girls face in terms of malnutrition, violence, and psychological problems that stem from living in such poverty, just to mention a few, are horrific by any standards.
Juliana was the first girl to enter the Bahia Street program. We had almost no money at the time and little infrastructure. Everyone said our aims were idealistic and unlikely to succeed. Juliana, however, wanted to try. She told everyone in her neighborhood, and us at Bahia Street, that she wanted to be a doctor. Her neighbors laughed at her.
That was eight years ago. This year Juliana took the Brazilian university exam and, on her first try, she passed. She has now been accepted to university. As if this were not enough, the university chose