A Talaia

A tight, narrow, steep dirt & rock road. I screamed and said, are you crazy! This car will never make it down there! Determined for something, he didn’t listen. Down we went. Bumps, bumps, bumps. Corn fields all around us, blue skies above, and the ocean blue. He stopped at the end of the road, right before the last home. To my right, a small stone building. Open, collapsed, and abandoned.

This is my grandpa’s Talaia, where he cultivated his crops and raised pigs to feed his family and friends. In this small, one-roomed home, little me, at 6 to 8 years old, lived with my grandparents. It was small and not much, but it was everything to him (Grandpa) and me. I could see the sadness overtake his face while looking at everything around him, rotting and falling.

Don’t worry, my love; it is beautiful in my eyes. I could see past the present into the past it once was. He urged me not to enter and not to touch any walls, for the stones may start to fall, and I’d be buried among it all. I was curious to see and imagine in my mind what a day in life it could have been.

Chairs overturned, an old table fell, old glass bottles that once held inside azeite, and some worn slippers on the ground. Through the ruble, dirt & ruins lays one bright white porcelain tea cup with a hand-painted design of little leaves and flowers that calls out to me. As if screaming my name! I collected tea cups, something passed down to me from my grandmother. Even the theme of my wedding was tea cups! What a treasure find. I took it as a sign of inspiration & faith, letting me know I am not alone and am indeed being heard.

It had a tiny little chip at the top, but it was seemingly almost spotless, clean, and perfect amongst all the destruction around it. How remarkable, I thought to myself. It was hiding on the ground, amongst the dirt and rocks, waiting for me, as so it seemed. Absolutely delighted with my treasure, I took it before him. He urged me to drop it as if it were an infested worthless piece of trash, but it was more than gold at that moment.

Not only did I find this splendid treasure to my delight, but I was fortunate enough to stumble upon another treasure: an old broach in the dirt outside of the home, shining up at me. For me, it was a crown symbolizing the Espirito Santo, of which we had been dearly praying for the last two weeks. It had all its rhinestones still intact, with dirt stacked and pancaked in between the crevices.

Wow! Did I really find this, or was it a dream? Am I crazy for believing? To me, it meant everything, nothing, and all in between. It was a momentous sliver in time. Reminding me that the universe is always providing, listening, and guiding. Thank you, Universe, for showing me your love and surrounding me with it, like a big hug swaddling me. There are signs everywhere if you just believe. The more you believe, the more you will SEE. Thank you babe, for showing me a piece of you — “A Talaia”, so pure and true. –MSR 7/13/24

Marisa Silva Rocha is a fadista and Portuguese-American community activist.