In the river lies a philosophy

by Nelson Diogo (Brazil)

A leap into the unknown Brazil

Since I was kid, I was used to be challenged. But in my teenage years this adventurous spirit was gone. And as I reminisced these distant days of glory, I stared at my phone as though it was Mona Lisa and it reads: “Hiking and Biking for men only”. I didn’t know much about the place, all I knew was that being man was a request and that Jeff would be our guide. Jeff often guided us in early explorations, but this time he was different. And I would join them for the first time since the death of my older sister. Our exploration would lead us to the Fluminense Lowland. To the waterfalls among the forest hills in Xerem. This small district is an overlooked place. It's center was overwhelmingly crowded with bicycles as well as lively and hot, as I noticed later. We had close knit group. And we get there in two and a half hours of biking. Getting there Jeff was trying to figure out how to get there safely. “The trail we’re going to have a narrow path”. “Actually there’s two”, a local said, “The first one will take at least five hours hiking”. We wouldn’t be able to carry our bicycles for such long hours. There was a secret entrance which leads to the trail. The sun was radiant and we stopped at the street vendors for a soft drink. We drank sugar cane juice and coconut water. We biked to the secret entrance which was even more uniquely secret to the locals. Then moved forward through a muddy and wet path, walking in line with the bikes. After a great deal of marching, the nature grew wild and colorful and musical. Beyond the Avocado trees and the sweet smelling Jamelão trees there was an obstacle. The river crossed along the forest and across that river was an improvised bridge. A rotten trunk bridge. We watched the cold river flowing as we stood on the higher ground. "Comrades, it's time to be a man", Jeff said. I purposely look at him, then he looked back as if he was saying "I know, I know". Then the first one to cross the bridge was our friend Joel. He carried his bike as he carefully stepped forward in a way that kept his balance . The bridge trembled at every step he took. So on went the second one and the third one. Then it was my turn to prove myself a daredevil adventurer. As I took the first step to the bridge I saw the river inexorably flowing while sweat poured from my helmet. "In the river lies a philosophy…", Jeff attempted. I didn’t hear much, only the river ferociously running. I felt fear but I felt appreciation for it as I walked. Whenever one of the members reached the other part, we celebrated and did crazy stuff. It would be a quite smooth path until the waterfalls as we crossed the Cape of good hope. Then we talked and talked as we hiked, and forgot about the bridge and discussed the healing properties of the river. As we advanced we could hear the waterfall roaring in the distance. Before we jump into the river, we locked up our bicycles near an old bridge where people stopped to take photos. It was a medium-sized waterfall, which feed the river with silver green cold waters sparkling a divine sense of unexpectation and small grasp at God’s meticulous work. There was a vortex at the bottom of the waterfall where we choose to relax as its thundering transformed the river into a divine pool. “Let’s try some bridge jump?” Jeff said cheerfully. “You know, next week is my birthday”. “Sure” I said. “I gotta tell you something though…”He said. Then I thought he would start a sermon. I’ve lost a brother and a sister in least than a year and I was pitying myself. Jeff never mentioned it in a negative way. “I’ll turn fifty eight next week…” he revealed. I didn’t know about it. But I got to know a whole lot more about Jeff and the healing power of the river and its philosophy.