"Please, stay out of it, Amanda."
"Of course I won't. That's my nephew and I bet you haven't even gone to the doctor. How do you know if everything is going as it should?” I shake my head, completely embarrassed by being told off by a 12-year-old brat. "The first trimester is the most important. Tell Klaus soon and find a doctor. You're also from the health field, you know this better than I do. You know it's the right thing to do. Now, go drink a healthy fruit juice and take care of yourself, sis. I'm going to walk around, I saw so many medicinal herbs. Your land is beautiful, Anahí. It's a paradise."
Amanda walks off with a smile on her face, leaving me uneasy thinking of all the things she said. As much as I don't want to admit she's right, I need to be brave and tell Klaus he's going to be a father.
Everybody has woken up and I'm still sitting on the porch, thoughtful. Klaus asks me worriedly if everything is okay, and I reassure him that everything's okay, plastering a fake smile on my face. I walk to the big yard to grab breakfast and as soon as Klaus comes closer he's invited by my grandfather to sit next to him. Renato and Bruno sit down with the other men and I sit with the women and children of the village.
I serve Klaus a clay plate filled with fresh fruit, planted on our land, cooked cassava, tucumã[13], beiju[14], and tapioca[15]. Two of my cousins, Araci and Janaína, serve Renato and Bruno.
As is tradition in our tribe, first the men are served, then the women and children serve themselves, eating separately. In the indigenous culture, activities and functions are divided by sex. Men and women don't have the same responsibilities. Men hunt, fish, build canoes, hunting and warring weapons, jiraus[16] to dry the cassava paste, take care of the land, felling and planting, besides searching for wood.
And the women make the hammocks, mats, crafts, harvest and grate the cassava, besides being responsible for the food and the children. This is not seen under a perspective of superiority and submission; men and women have different and equally important duties. However, even knowing that these differences are not about the depreciation of women, during last few days I've spent here I found it hard to adapt to our traditions, since I was raised by my mom, and indigenous woman living away from the day to day traditions of her people.
My father, Hansen Ulrich, is a Hungarian anthropologist that fell in love with the indigenous culture and lived with our tribe to conduct an ethnographic research. When he met my mom, young Jaci, daughter of the tribal chief, he fell head over feet in love with the little cabocla and married her, going against everything and everyone to live out their great love.
Their story would've been perfect if my mother hadn't started feeling so resentful about living far from her people, and constantly blamed my father for her decision to turn her back on her village. That's why, even though I visited them and dad insisted that I stay with them, I decided to come to the village. I have enough problems of my own without have to put up with their stupid fighting. My parents constantly butt heads, but they won't get a divorce.
Renato and Bruno agree to accompany the men fishing, excited by this new experience. After talking with my grandfather for a while, Klaus comes back to our hut and asks me to show him our lands around the houses and ocas. I don't go very far since he still finds it hard to go big distances without his cane, so I take him to our corn, sugar cane, and cassava fields, along with the various fruit trees that surround the whole Jaguapiru reservation. I climb a mango tree loaded with rosa mangoes, big and juicy, and Klaus gets scared to see how high I climbed, yelling like crazy for me to come down before I fall.
"Come down from there, Anahí. You can fall and break a leg, you crazy woman. Do you think you're some kind of monkey to be jumping from branch to branch?" He continues to complain while trying to catch the mangoes I grab and throw down to him.
"Don't be so grumpy, I've been doing this since I was a child. I'm just taking two more, then I'll come down."
I climb down from the mango tree so quickly my Viking is amazed and I start laughing at his panicked face. Ha! I missed these child-like moments, this freedom, the beauty of the untouched nature of my land. The unparalleled taste of a fruit taken directly from the tree, walking on bare feet, swimming in the river, eating fresh fish. It's so good to feel the strength that rises from this piece of ground. And everything is made even more complete when I look to the side and see the man I love, partaking of this same magic moment with me.
Klaus and I walk to the river's edge, eating mangoes and talking, soaking up each image we see like a solo spectacle of nature, something unique: a flock of hyacinth macaws soaring through the sunny skies, the smell of wet dirt, two oncillas that stretch out lazily on the road, and the wild flowers along the way.
The sun punishes the white skin of my Viking, making it red, but he laughs like a boy and walks slowly without complaint, and as soon as we are faced with the grandeur of Dourados River, stately cutting through Jaguapiru lands, I look at him with a mischievous smile, taking off all my clothes, unhurriedly disrobing to take a swim on these calm waters.
Klaus's gaze goes over my naked body, and he also starts taking off his clothes, a soft breeze goes by cooling our skin and my nipples harden with the gentle licking of the wind and my man's almost piteous admiring gaze.
I stretch out my hand silently so he'll join me and we dive together in the river, absorbed by the feeling of wholeness and exhilaration these waters bring us. I swim a little and Klaus opens his arms, floating with eyes closed and a smile on his lips. It's been some time since I've seen my Viking so happy and light. After I get tired of swimming, I lie on the edge of river, sunbathing, and Klaus cuddles between my thighs, hovering his body over mine, watching me with heavy-lidded eyes filled with desire and love.
The magic of the river in front of us, and our bodies intertwining little by little naturally leads to sweet kisses, gentle and eager, and the honesty of the rubbing of his member on me, his lips taking me, excited and demanding, makes us want more, more kisses, more tongue, more pleasure. Klaus penetrates me in an unhurried, lazy motion, slow and addictive, his cock sliding over my walls gradually, from the entrance to my sex, he dives deep, hitting my g-spot, making me squirm and moan louder and louder until I scream his name, asking to come. He thrusts deep without respite, increasing the rhythm of his hips and we both come shattering into a thousand pieces, our lips smashes together, drinking the other's moans.
I hold him to my chest and he doesn't move, slowly kissing my eyes and mouth. I can't help myself, I start crying thrilled that I'm in the arms of this man who has made me whole, partaking of this magic moment where we're blessed by mother nature.
I closed tear-filled eyes and guide his hands from my waist to my belly, keeping them under mine. Klaus caresses my belly then lowers his eyes to my slightly plump lower-belly. I take a deep breath, gather my courage, and say still with eyes closed, "A piece of us is growing right here, inside of me."
When I slowly open my eyes I'm faced with Klaus's intensely blue eyes watching me closely, then they widen and roam over my naked body and stop on my belly. His mouth opens into a perfect O, and when he finally finds his voice again, he asks, "Little cabocla, are you..." Klaus can't finish the question, holding my belly with trembling hands.
"Pregnant. Yes, I'm pregnant," I say shakily.
"When did you know? How? Fuck, is this for real?"
"I found out recently, but was afraid to tell you."
"Why? Fuck, it's real. I'm going to be a father."
Klaus sits between my legs and caressed my belly, his long fingers making circles on my skin making me shiver.
He bends and kisses my belly, once, twice, so many time I lose count... And when our eyes meet once more, I see that he's crying. Crying and laughing at the same time, whispering, "You're going to be very welcome, my baby. Don't mind that daddy is crying, I'm just silly, baby. Daddy is silly, but he loves you, okay?"
"Then mummy is silly too, since I'm crying, huh? Viking, this is all so crazy it scar
es me."
Klaus kisses my forehead and shakes his head.
"It's crazy, but there's no reason to be scared. I love you, Anahí. I'm here, and I'll always be here for you and our child. Fuck it, little cabocla, I doubt there's any man in the world happier than me."
We take one more swim and dress slowly, laughing like idiots, going back to the reservation to get ready for the ceremony of our union.
CHAPTER 27
KLAUS
There's no denying it, it's a fact, Anahí's grandfather hates me. He watches me getting painted with achiote, coal, clay, and loam by the men of the reservation and grumbles with closed face, when one of Anahí's uncles suggest that he tailor the start of the wedding rite to my reality. It takes me a while to understand what's happening, then Iraquitã, one of Anahí's cousins, explains to me in Portuguese that it won't be possible to follow the start of the rite because of my walking issue. It's Terena tradition for the groom to participate in a series of war games before the blessing, then processioning through the reservation, carrying on his back a tree stump the same weight as the bride. That's impossible, as I still have difficulty walking because of my accident, let alone walk through the reservation with a 130 pounds stump on my back. But that obstacle frustrates me, I look at the tough, strong men around me and I feel like garbage.
Seeing my frustration, Iraquitã talks with his dad and then tells me between gritted teeth, "It's not a piece of wood on your back that makes you a man, Klaus. You were man enough to come here after your woman, and brave my grandfather. Never mind him, old Apaioká is a hard ass. He's always resisted accepting the white man's influence on our culture. He fights tooth and nail to keep our traditions. Today you see a lot of Indians corrupted by the worst of white people's culture, a lot of them becoming alcoholics or drug addicts. Others suffer from depression, from insisting on trying to be accepted into the white men's society as equals. When an Indian rejects his roots, he loses his identity, and the indigenous people are a little weaker. So, be easy. My father will talk with him. We know you respect our culture, our way of life. You can be sure that making Anahí happy is way more important than dragging a log of wood through the reservation. Now, stay still so I can finish painting you and putting on these seeds.”
Iraquitã paints my face and body, circling my arms, waist, knees, and ankles with a braided strand and colorful feathers. I'm naked, covered only by a small dense straw skirt, but I don't feel exposed or embarrassed by my nakedness. In an illogical and wild way I, a man from a sophisticated European culture, never felt so connected to myself as I feel right now.
After seeing me all dressed up, Renato and Bruno shyly asked Iraquitã to paint them too. I haven’t seen Anahí since she retired to one of the ocas, I look around searching for her and Ubiritan, one of her uncles calms me down by saying that she's getting ready with the other women and soon will be ready for the ceremony. According to him, the jokanas, brides, take longer to get ready because they take purification baths with aromatic herbs, and their paintings are more complex. The kakiçus, the grooms, after the procession, accompanied by all the other men in the reservation, wait for the bride the Quimeje, the main oca.
Anahí's grandfather incenses the whole oca with herbs, to purify the souls of all present, cast away bad spirits, and strengthen the union of the couple. There's a buzz between the older men and Ubiritan comes up to Apaioká, telling him we have two unexpected visitors asking for permission to participate in the blessing. The old Indian is suddenly perturbed and whispers with his son, then orders the visitors to come in. A few minutes after, a middle-aged tall Indian woman, wearing s simple dress nears the big oca, next to a strong man, long blond hair, around 50 years old, also dressed casually. She stops in front of Anahí's grandfather facing him seriously, then takes off her sandals, crouches in a fluid, respectful move and kisses the floor. Then she stands up and says firmly, "Thank you my father for receiving me and allowing me to be part of my daughter's wedding."
Her steady eyes sink into mine as if she can look inside me and I can see how much she resembles Anahí. She walks to me and stretches her hand, looking serious.
"Are you Klaus? Nice to meet you. I'm Jaci, Anahí's mother."
I stumble between giving her a handshake or two kisses, then I follow her lead, and say surprised, "Nice to meet you, Ms. Jaci."
The blond man next to her offers me his hand too, greeting me with an awkward hug.
"Pleasure, Klaus. Hansen Ulrich, Anahí's father."
Anahí's grandfather looks sideways at Hansen and grumbles, then says loudly to Ms. Jaci, with a closed, annoyed expression, "You can stay, but he shouldn't be here. It's very brave of you, Hansen to show up after so many years after running off with my daughter, disrespecting our ways. You white people always act this way. You think you can step all over our traditions. This one here it's another one, taking my granddaughter without sacrificing himself, without proving his strength, his honor."
Ubiritan steps in, saying in a low voice to his dad, "My father, with all due respect, I'm telling you that's unnecessary. Until only recently this man could not walk on his own two feet. Now, thanks to Anahí's hard work, here he stands with us. As for Hansen, so many years have passed. He and Jaci are married, there's nothing to be done."
Anahí's father walks over to Apaioká with a defensive posture and looking enraged, and says between gritted teeth, signaling for me to come closer.
"It was never my intention to run roughshod over your culture. I have spent my life studying and researching your tradition. I love the indigenous culture so much that I fell in love with this land and with your daughter. I respectfully ask your forgiveness for my unthinking act, and I propose that I accompany my son-in-law in the procession. The two of us, together, will prove that we are strong men and deserving of our women. What do you think, Klaus?"
I nod, unsure on how I'll be able to stand with so much weight on my shoulders, but I raise my head and agree with Hansen. The other men get excited and joyous with the start of the ritual, taking huge drums and other percussion instrument to the center of the village. Ms. Jaci fights in a low voice with Hansen that there's no need for him to do this, but he remains steadfast, taking his shirt and standing bare chested to be painted by Ubiratan. Iraquitã tells me that I'll have to walk through the clearing next to Hansen, while they'll follow me with war chants. When I reach Apaioká and the reservation warriors I have to give them the wood log, and so finish the first part of the wedding rite. Hansen and I walk silently to the start of the clearing and he tells me,
"We'll walk side by side carrying the stump on our shoulder. If you get tired, breathe, stop, rest, but not, for any reason, let the log drop."
Bruno runs to me to hand me my cane, giving me a tight hug. The drums start to roar and two men raise a single wooden log and settle it on our shoulder, making sure that we're each carrying the same weight. Hansen and I walk slowly, side by side, taking deep breaths to keep our knees straight with the weight that's crushing our backs. With every step closer the chanting becomes louder, the caxixi[17] and drums roar stronger.
The sweat drips down my face, washing it, and at this moment, a movie plays on my mind, Anahí opening the door to my hospital room and the shock that went through me when I looked into her eyes, the way she left my vain, broken, hurt soul exposed. Our first kiss and the indescribable feeling of having her in my arms for the first time. The fear I felt that I wouldn't be able to live up to her expectations, the fear of not satisfying her due to my limitations and the unnamed pleasure of seeing her lose herself around my body, impaled by my sex, my fingers, my mouth. My legs tremble with the effort, but I keep standing, looking around me, the men dancing in a circle, shoulder to shoulder, hands hitting thighs and feet strongly to the sound of the drums. As we get closer to the main oca the warriors get louder.
"Itagiba, Itagiba, Itagiba!!!!!!!"
Hansen and I walk inside the main oca and remove the wooden log from our shoulders, drop
ping it on the floor. The warriors clap and keep yelling, "Itagiba, Itagiba!!!!"
Apaioká approaches us and greets us with a nod, talking loudly, "White man or Indian, it doesn't matter. You have honored us with your test of respect of our culture, of this ground, of the blood of so many Terena warrior that was spilled on this land. I, Apaioká Cauré, leader of the Terena, honor you Klaus, with the name of Itagiba, meaning, "warrior strong as rock". Hansen, today you have honored your wife with your sacrifice, and alongside Klaus and Anahí, will receive the blessing of our people over your union with Jaci. You will always be welcome on our lands."
The women approach in a happy procession, singing and dancing. In the middle of them, my Anahí walks to us, painted with achiote and coal. Her breast covered by a large cloth strip, beautifully decorated, with hair, arms, and waist covered with feathers, seeds, and wild flowers.
Apaioká tells Ms. Jaci to come closer and stand next to Hansen, and me next to Anahí. He offers a prayer, accompanied by all, in Guarani, with arms stretched to heavens, then translating a tiny fragment for me and Hansen.
"We are children of thunder and the sun. May Tupã strengthen your union. May your wives be fertile and filled with love like the waters of this river and may you give them the support, protection, and strength of this sacred ground. There is no more important than the other, man does not live without woman, as woman does not live without man. By uniting you become one, one strength, one energy. May mother nature bless you with a long and healthy life. I bless this union and the fruits it may produce, their children and grandchildren. By the strength of Tupã."
Fatefully Yours Page 20