LOST IN TOKYO

 

The other night I had a singular dream: I was in Tokyo, and I was lost. I did not remember the name of the hotel where I was staying with my partner, and the streets I walked were unfamiliar to me. Suddenly, I saw a woman doing repairs on a ladder and asked her for help; she immediately got down and started walking with me through the nearby streets to see if I could locate myself. So the hours went by, and I was more lost than ever, until the woman told me that she could no longer do anything for me. The thought of my partner crossed my mind, and I told myself that he was surely wondering about me. Desperate, I continued walking through that unknown city until, in an open house, I heard a boy speak in Spanish with an Argentine accent. I hurried over to him and told him that my hotel was near a large fish market, and asked him if he knew of one. He didn’t and suggested that I go to the Argentine consulate in Tokyo; he would take me there. Luckily he didn't have to since, at that precise moment, I woke up.  Upon awakening, I felt an intense feeling of relief. Needless to say, one thing is to get lost in Rome and another in Tokyo. But what is the meaning of this strange dream? I asked myself. Although I was in Tokyo many years ago, it is not a city that lingers in my thoughts and I don't feel like visiting it again. To me, getting lost in an unfamiliar city is almost the same as being alone in the city in which we live, but that is not our city. It is a city that is not familiar to our soul. As the years go by, our feelings and our gaze turn to our beginnings: the house where we lived, the school we attended, and those friends who participated in our first years of life as if they were our siblings. But above all we remember the city where we were born: its cobbled streets, its lilac jacaranda trees, its cafes always open, and its multicolored buses. It is with deep nostalgia that we recall the place where our existence began. With the dream I understood that, when I left that city, I left the warmth of my family’s house to start my own journey. I also understood that we come to this earth to become who we really are, and we must do so without help. That is why not even the figure on the ladder managed to give me a hand.

MI CASA

Al abrir la puerta de mi casa

y respirar su perfume conocido

miro a mi alrededor y me digo

que no hay espacio en el mundo

que me sea más querido.

Mi casa es un espacio sagrado

donde no persisten las congojas,

ni las memorias grises o las mentiras;

mi casa es un manto que me envuelve

con el calor de momentos bendecidos.

Cuando abro la puerta de este lugar

con olor a algas, a lluvia, a playa matutina,

siento que afuera no he olvidado nada,

y que solo en esta silenciosa morada

puede mi alma sentirse tranquila.

SOLEDAD EN MIAMI, UNA NOVELA COMO NINGUNA OTRA.(AMAZON).

 

Éste es un libro que habla de la soledad en algunas ciudades que, a primera vista, parecerían ser el lugar ideal para estar rodeado de amigos. Inmigración, mediana edad, divorcio, el nido vacío, todo conjuga para que Ana, la protagonista, se encuentre de pronto en un mundo solitario y sin refugios.

EL SIGNIFICADO DE NUESTRA VIDA

 

Cuando el atardecer nos recubre de silencio

y del misterioso significado de nuestra vida,

mi mano busca una pluma para describirlo,

y mi alma una luz para descifrarlo.

 

Los misterios del alma se nos escapan,

no logramos atraparlos ni entenderlos,

y nuestras vidas a menudo se asemejan

a remolinos de aguas turbias y opacas.

 

Yo quisiera comprender mi vida antes de irme,

quisiera asir con las manos su significado,

convertirlo en una piedra color del tiempo,

y, en mi último viaje, llevarlo a mi lado.

 

 

THE SNAKE DREAM

A few weeks ago, I dreamed that I had found the skin of a snake on the ground. Snakes change skin because, when they grow, the skin

doesn't, and so they need a new skin. Since I know that dreams are the messengers of important messages, I set out to analyze why I had had such a dream. Given the fact that to me snakes are beautiful animals, having dreamt with one did not disturb me at all; on the contrary, it generated in my mind the idea of life renewal. A few days passed, and suddenly the following thought came to mind: "I want to forget about the past years of my life, forget almost all the people I have met, as well as the loves and the pains that haunted me because I want to be another." In other words, without going to the extreme of changing my name because I love my name, I want to forget almost everything else. With the passing of time, I discovered that remembering is the food of sadness and that, in order to thoroughly enjoy the years I have left, I have to empty my mind as in a case of amnesia. So now I am forgetting. Every time I start remembering something, I immediately erase it with words such as: "What a lovely moon we have tonight." So, gradually, the Marina of before will be transformed into the Marina that stopped regretting the friendships that never were friendships, the dark loneliness of some nights, and the losses that deeply hurt my heart. From now on there will only be pearls on my path.

EL VERDADERO PRECIO DE LA INMIGRACIÓN

 Desgraciadamente algunos de nosotros nacemos en países de los cuales, en algún momento, decidimos emigrar. Mi padre, por ejemplo, decidió irse de Italia durante la guerra buscando en Argentina una vida mejor. Y como las situaciones familiares en general se repiten, yo a mi vez decidí buscar una vida nueva en América del norte. El país al que yo emigré me ofreció muchas cosas: un buen trabajo, bienestar, ahorros, una hermosa vivienda y la mesa siempre llena. Lo que me costó conseguir en cambio fueron amigos verdaderos, de los que siempre acostumbré tener en la tierra donde nací. Tal es el verdadero precio de la inmigración: una soledad difícil de superar, especialmente después de un divorcio y después de que los hijos empiezan su propia jornada. ¿Pero, si todos los seres humanos tienen la misma necesidad de calor y compañía, por qué son las amistades tan difíciles de encontrar en tierras ajenas? Porque nosotros los inmigrantes somos esencialmente diferentes a aquellos que tuvieron la suerte de vivir donde nacieron; y el dominio perfecto del idioma es solo un aspecto. Lo más importante es la historia en común que nos une a los que fueron con nosotros al colegio, o a los que les confiamos nuestros primeros dolores. En otras palabras, aquellos que pisaron las mismas baldosas rotas que nosotros y se desahogaron en los mismos oscuros bares del barrio. Ése es el paisaje al que pertenecemos; el otro es una escenografía prestada.

AN UNEXAMINED LIFE IS NOT WORTH LIVING. SOCRATES

 

The truth is that we never stop being a mystery to ourselves. I, for example, was sure I had a good grasp of ​​who I am; but I was wrong. I live on the beach in a building that has plants at the entrance plus a garden in the back. Since the gardener we have does not seem to have much interest in his work, I volunteered to prune and keep the plants in good condition. The then president of the Board thought it was a good idea and accepted my offer; as for me, I never imagined that this would be one of the most important teachings of my life. I started my work with great enthusiasm and gradually, despite not being young anymore and despite the sickening heat of the Miami summer, I managed to complete my task perfectly well. Such was my satisfaction at the result that, without thinking, I made a mistake: I planted two flower plants without consulting. The next day, to my amazement, one of my plants had been uprooted. At first I thought it had been a child playing ball; but not long after, I learned from the building manager that the author had been another resident and that now there was no choice but to get rid of the other plant as well. As the manager spoke to me, the countless bags full of dead branches that I had pruned under the hot sun, as well as the unrelenting sweat, flashed past my eyes. So, as my mind wandered through the labyrinths of thought, I suddenly realized that I often offered to do things that were not my responsibility, and that some people tended to diminish it. Although the garden looked much more beautiful now, I told myself that some of us have great difficulty in appreciating the merit of others. But I also understood that always wanting to be the best, the most generous, the one who is always ready to help, the one who tries to please without discrimination, is not a quality; because I am invariably ready to help I often become a victim at the hands of frustrated people like my neighbor. So, while the manager spoke about my neighbor rights, I promised myself to not always be there for others; perhaps that way what I decided to give out would be more valued. At the end of our meeting I thanked the manager for the valuable teaching he had provided me; he looked at me puzzled and must still be wondering what teaching it is.

UNA VIDA NO EXAMINADA NO VALE LA PENA SER VIVIDA. SÓCRATES

Lo cierto es que nunca dejamos de ser un misterio para nosotros mismos. Yo, por ejemplo, estaba segura de tener una buena idea de quien soy; en cambio, no es así. Vivo en la playa en un edificio que tiene plantas en la entrada además de un jardín en la parte de atrás. Como el jardinero que hemos empleado no parece tener mucho interés en su trabajo, me ofrecí como voluntaria para podar y mantener las plantas en buen estado. Al entonces presidente del consorcio le pareció buena idea y aceptó mi oferta; en cuanto a mí, nunca imaginé que ésta sería una de las enseñanzas más importantes de mi vida. Empecé mi labor con gran entusiasmo y gradualmente, pese a no ser más joven y a pesar del calor enfermante del verano en Miami, logré completar muy bien mi tarea. Tal fue mi satisfacción ante el resultado obtenido que, sin pensar, cometí un error: plantar dos plantas de flores sin consultar. Al día siguiente cuál no fue mi sorpresa al ver que una de mis plantas había sido arrancada. Al principio pensé se trataba de un niño jugando a la pelota; pero no mucho más tarde me enteré por medio del gerente del edificio que el autor había sido otro residente, y que ahora no quedaba más remedio que arrancar la otra planta también. Mientras el gerente me hablaba desfilaron por mis ojos los innumerables bolsos llenos de ramas secas que había podado bajo el sol ardiente, y el imparable sudor. Y mientras mi mente vagaba por los laberintos del pensamiento, de pronto me di cuenta de que a menudo yo me ofrecía a hacer cosas que no me correspondían, y que los demás no valoraban. Si bien las plantas se veían mucho más hermosas ahora, me dije que algunos tienen gran dificultad en apreciar el mérito ajeno. Pero también comprendí que el querer ser siempre la mejor, la más generosa, la que siempre está dispuesta a ayudar, la que trata de complacer sin discriminar no siempre es una cualidad; muy a menudo me volvió víctima en manos de gente frustrada como mi vecino. Me prometí entonces imponerme ciertos necesarios límites; quizás así se valorizaría más lo que decidía dar. Al terminar la charla con el gerente le di las gracias por la profunda enseñanza que me había impartido; me miró perplejo, y todavía se debe estar preguntando de qué enseñanza se trata.