How I learned to stop Worrying and love the Moment

by Vivek Gandhi (India)

A leap into the unknown Brazil

Hot. Sweltering hot. Backpack straps biting into sunburned shoulders. Following vague directions along the streets of Barreirinhas. Asking for the pickup point for Atins. Receiving blank stares because it's actually pronounced as "Aachins". I'm directed down an alleyway nowhere near original directions. Slight trepidation. There is a 4x4 being loaded. I mispronounce Atins again. The driver nods his head vigorously (maybe he's used to idiot tourists). Unsure if i'm in the right car as we start but the landscape is gorgeous and helps to assuage the anxiety. The driver yells, “Hotel?”. He gives me a thumbs up as he recognizes the name. My paranoid brain sighs with relief. I begin to daydream. We enter a small town. People start getting off. Finally, he gestures to me - Pousada do Melo. I go around to help him unload my bag and find a sign labelled, 'ATINS'. He drives off leaving me with a stupid grin on my face. I enter to find a man lying in a hammock. "Melo?" I inquire. Quick smile and a nod. "Fala ingles?". He laughs and shakes his head. Brain kicks into overdrive, wondering how to obtain the information I need. I regret this impulsive detour. But things have worked out so far, right? Right. I take a deep breath and approach him armed with Google Translate. Soon, I'm in the midst of a virtual conversation with an amused Melo. I ask him how to visit Lencois Maranhenses. He cryptically types, "Be here at 3pm". Excited. I go off to find food. Belatedly, I realize that I should have asked for more details. Convincing myself I’m being adventurous; I ignore my brain. I get back to find Melo on a quad bike instead of a group tour in a 4x4 truck. Melo impatiently gestures towards the backseat. Before my brain can panic, I grab my gear and jump on. As we cross a ford, the engine splutters and dies. Melo tinkers with the motor while I take in the surroundings. The landscape is deceptively desert like. The sand is carried to the coast by the rivers, blown inland by the wind to form the sand dunes. Under which lies a layer of impermeable rock. Post rains, the fresh rainwater collects between the dunes to form crystal clear lagoons, which is what I've come to experience. Engine roars to life. Melo grins and shrugs. He has no idea what was wrong or how it restarted. We climb a dune and the view stuns my inner monologue into silence. Rolling dunes as far as the eye can see. Storm clouds building up on the horizon. And not a soul in sight. We reach the edge of a dune and before us, lies a huge lagoon. Melo runs down the steep slope and jumps right in. I start analyzing the unique landscape, wanting to do justice to this incredible beauty. I take dozens of photos. Try different perspectives. Change lenses. Look for abstract patterns. Time passes. I have taken hundreds of photos. Melo is floating lazily in the lagoon. I am struck by how anxious I feel in contrast. My muscles are tense. While trying to capitalize on being alone in this wildly gorgeous place, I've forgotten that seeing through the lens is not experiencing and photographs are not a substitute for actual lived memories. I walk down in Melo's footsteps and stand in the cool water and feel the warmth of the sun. I accept that getting the perfect photograph is not the end-all. Acceptance brings peace. I begin floating aimlessly. Watching the clouds race past. Feeling the wind driven waves push against my body. Listening to the gulls. The colours of the sunset are mesmerizing. The lagoon begins to glow orange. It feels surreal. I feel completely at ease for the first time all day. The many contrarian voices in my head have decided to shut up and experience this serene sunset with me. As we head back, Melo says, “Muito tranquilo”, repeatedly. I'd like to think he brought me to his favourite spot. To the spot that brought him peace instead of a popular tourist lagoon. Because he knew I needed that. And he was right.