O melhor do mundo são as crianças | The best of the world are the children

O dia começou bem cedinho ao sairmos da pequena aldeia maia onde tínhamos passado a noite, para aproveitar o fresco da manhã e fugir às crianças que certamente chegariam para ter aulas na escola adjacente ao terreno onde acampámos.

Continuámos então o treino de força e intensidade que tínhamos começado no dia anterior, com a esperança de que o perfil de altitude estivesse correcto e que dali a poucos quilómetros pudéssemos montar novamente as bicicletas. E assim foi, de uma absolutamente fantástica média de 1,5 km por hora passámos para 3,5 km por hora assim que pudemos voltar a pedalar, primeiro a descer, depois a subir, tudo entremeado em ocasionais forças de braços para vencer as íngremes ladeiras.

Mas o pior do dia ainda estava para vir. Se no dia anterior já tínhamos sido alvos da curiosidade infantil, que não tinha sido exercitada na sua plenitude por falta de gente com quem nos cruzarmos, hoje o caminho estava repleto de pequenas aldeias. Primeiro foi passar pelas crianças que iam a caminho da escola e que se agrupavam à volta da nossa bicicleta deixada sozinha (continuávamos os dois a levar uma bicicleta de cada vez), usando as suas pequenas mãozinhas para quase a mandar ao chão à força de tanto toque, a seguir tive (Sara) o infortúnio de deixar uma das garrafas de água mesmo em frente a uma escola em tempo de intervalo da manhã. Sem nada melhor para fazer umas quarenta crianças reuniram-se para me chamar gringa, e eu dizendo entredentes “querem ver o que é bom para a tosse?” saquei da minha máquina fotográfica iniciando um jogo da apanhada, com as crianças a gritar e a tentar fugir à objectiva.

Mas a apoteose estava já ao virar da esquina. Descendo a estrada de terra batida à hora de saída da escola, proporcionámos às crianças maior diversão, o chamado “toca-e-foge”. Como íamos mais ou menos depressa e decerto não voltaríamos para trás numa subida, além do já conhecido coro de “gringos”, houve ainda alguns chico-espertos que resolveram tocar-nos à medida que passávamos.

Nisto o Pedro descobre que há um comedor algures perdido no meio das montanhas, só um “bocadinho” mais à frente e resolve que conseguimos lá chegar a tempo de almoçar. Eu, que fico de péssimo humor quando tenho fome, e tenho que continuar a fazer esforço físico ainda me aguentei enquanto foi só a descer, mas assim que começou a subida lá tive que gritar que já não conseguia mais e que tinha que comer. Saindo da bicicleta percebi que tinha perdido o pau que serve de descanso, e que podia estar algures nos últimos 5 Km montanha acima. E foi o suficiente para começar a chorar, libertando assim a tensão e o cansaço que aquelas montanhas estavam a produzir em mim.

Felizmente já só faltavam mais três quartos de hora e em boa hora chegámos ao comedor onde o franguinho feito em fogão a lenha estava bem bom. Almoçados e descansados e eram já quatro da tarde, não valia a pena prosseguir apesar dos míseros 19 Km que tínhamos feito o dia inteiro. Resolvemos então procurar um sítio para ficar e na loja de ferragens (o Pedro rapidamente se pôs a procurar material para me fazer um descanso novo) indicaram-nos a Paróquia e lá fui eu saber se nos dariam albergue.

Cheguei à igreja e numa pequena capela lateral várias senhoras maias rezavam, lideradas por uma senhora maia mais velha. Não querendo interromper mas já o fazendo mal espreitei lá para dentro expliquei ao que vinha e logo me disse a chefe “no tengas pena” (não tenhas medo/vergonha), dizendo-me que sim que podíamos. Foi tão simpática e transmitia tanta tranquilidade que todos os sentimentos negativos do dia deram lugar a uma certa paz com o mundo. Rapidamente vim dizer ao Pedro, que sim, que podíamos ficar, que tinha um belo relvado onde podíamos montar a tenda, mas que certamente iríamos ser novamente o frak show da aldeia e ter uma série de crianças a seguir atentamente cada passo dado.

Surpresa das surpresas, a igreja tinha uma camarata preparada para viajantes, com direito a casa-de-banho, pela mera quantia de 0,30 € por pessoa, e o melhor de tudo, muita privacidade! Estávamos felizes e mais felizes ficámos quando pudemos finalmente começar a conversar com alguém, no caso o Carlos (que falava espanhol e não exclusivamente o idioma indígena), e que respondeu a todas as nossas perguntas curiosas acerca de região.

IMGP7742

IMGP0534

IMGP0535

IMGP7752

IMGP7768

IMGP0542

IMGP0544

IMGP0546

The day started bright and early as we left the small Mayan village where we spent the night, to enjoy the cool of the morning and flee from the children who would certainly arrive to take classes at the school adjacent to the place where we camped.

Then we continued or strength and intensity training that we had started the previous day, with the hope that the altitude profile was correct and that within a few kilometers we could ride the bike again. And so it was, from an absolutely fantastic average of 1.5 km per hour we passed to 3.5 km per hour, but we could get back on the bicycle  first down, then up, all interspersed with occasional arms forces to overcome the steep slopes.

But the worst of the day was yet to come. On the day before we had been targets of child’s curiosity, but it had not been exercised in its entirety for lack of people with whom we crossed, but today the road was full of small villages. First it was the children who were on their way to school that clustered around our bike left alone (we were still dragging them one at a time), using their little hands to almost send it to the floor so much were they enjoying touching it, then I (Sara) had the misfortune of letting a bottle of water fall from my bike just in front of a school at break time in the morning. With nothing better to do some forty children gathered to call me gringa, and I said through clenched teeth “oh I’ll show you!”. I took my camera and started a game of hide and seek, with children screaming and trying to escape the lens.

But the apotheosis was just around the corner. We were going down on the dirt road at the time children were leaving from school, and so we provided them with lots of fun in a game called “touch-and-run”. As we were going kind of fast, and certainly would not go back up-hill, besides the usual chorus of “gringos” , there was some adventurous kids who decided to touch us as we passed.

At some point Pedro discovers there is a place to eat lost somewhere in the mountains, just a “little” ahead so he decided we can get there in time for lunch. I, who get in a foul mood when I’m hungry, could still cope with it as long as we were going down, but as soon as we started to climb I shouted that I could no longer do it and that I needed to eat something. Leaving the bike I realized I had lost the stick that serves as a kickstand, and that it could be somewhere in the last 5 km uphill. And it was enough to start crying, releasing the tension and fatigue that those mountains were producing in me.

Fortunately now we only had to cycle for forty five minutes and we got there in time to eat the chicken prepared in a wood stove that was pretty good. Finally with the lunch eaten and rested it was already four in the afternoon, and it was not worth keep going despite the measly 19 Km we had done all day. We decided to look for a place to stay and at the hardware store (Pedro quickly began to search for material to make me a new kickstand) they told us about the Parish and so i went to see if we could stay there for the night.

I arrived at the church and in a small side chapel several Mayan ladies prayed, led by an older Mayan woman. Not wanting to interrupt but already doing it as soon as I put my head inside, the older woman came and to m y request she said “no tengas pena” (do not be afraid/ashamed), telling me that we could stay there. She was so friendly and transmitted such quietness that all the negative feelings of the day gave way to a certain peace with the world. Quickly I came back to Pedro saying, yes we can stay there, they had a beautiful lawn where we could set up the tent, but we would certainly be the freak show of the village again and have a lot of kids following each of our step with lots of attention.

Surprise of surprises, the church had a dorm prepared to host people like us, complete with bathroom, for the sheer amount of € 0.30 per person, and best of all, lots of privacy! We were happy and we were happier when we finally get to talk to someone , his name was Carlos (who spoke Spanish and not only the indigenous language), and he responded to all our curious questions about the area.

Anúncios

4 pensamentos sobre “O melhor do mundo são as crianças | The best of the world are the children

    • Hello Pedro & Sara. I believe it has been exactly one year since you left our house just outside of New Hope PA in the first weeks of your fabulous journey. I have enjoyed the posts about your trip. You have met hundreds of people and have thousands of memories. I share your posts with a friend who commented about the beautiful pictures. He said they look like those from a travelogue. But then they are … sort of. I am amazed that you have done so well with all the equipment you carry. I still recall trying to pick up your bikes when I drove to the Starbucks in New Hope to meet you. Our best wishes for good travels ahead. You two are blessed to have each other to share a great life.

  1. Hi Ken and Barb! Thank you so much for your lovely comment. We remember pretty well the night we stayed with you and how that ride from Starbucks was miraculous. We believe we have learned a lot since those days when we were still beginners but everyday seems to bring us a new lesson bicycle and travel wise. We still maintain our invitation for you to come visit us in Portugal and we will be back in less than a year so start planning, and you only need to bring your bike if you want to!
    It was wonderful hearing from you, hope you keep enjoying the blog
    Pedro and Sara

Deixe uma Resposta

Preencha os seus detalhes abaixo ou clique num ícone para iniciar sessão:

Logótipo da WordPress.com

Está a comentar usando a sua conta WordPress.com Terminar Sessão / Alterar )

Imagem do Twitter

Está a comentar usando a sua conta Twitter Terminar Sessão / Alterar )

Facebook photo

Está a comentar usando a sua conta Facebook Terminar Sessão / Alterar )

Google+ photo

Está a comentar usando a sua conta Google+ Terminar Sessão / Alterar )

Connecting to %s