Cabedelo beach, Figueira da Foz
I have been wanting to write about some of my childhood memories for quite a long time ..., though I feel I don't exactly know where to start ... maybe because among those too many memories, there have been fears ... fears I have never expressed. We were taught from an early age to overcome our fears with a smile on our faces ... never to complain ... and to show a strength we didn't have ..., that's maybe why I still do that, or try to ... with some success (I guess ...).
The sea was one of my first and greatest fears ... the fact that I come from a coastal city located at the mouth of the Mondego river with inumerous beaches dictated my fate in ingloriously trying to struggle against this fear.
Around this area children were traditionally subject to prolonged "immersions" in the waves by bathing attendants, to whom parents called forth in order to make brave young people out of us.
Ignoring our pleadings for "mercy" (even those of us who liked the sea)... those strong "slaughtering" hands grabbed us firmly by the shoulders and plunged our head three or four times ... or for as long as they felt it was needed for us to become "heroically" prepared to face the tough sea of the "Silver Coastline", known for its huge cold and fearful sea waves (... I wonder what psychologists would have to say about this methodology ...)
I have never forgotten those "immersion sessions" ... and although I must say I love Figueira da Foz, I have never been able to bathe in its waters for too long, since then ...
There is always a feeling of insecurity ... a feeling of not being able to adjust my breathing rhythm to the actual going under water, irrespective of it not being forced ...
Buarcos and Figueira da Foz beaches as seen from Serra da Boa Viagem (Left) The "Silver Coastline" (Right)
Note: (Black and white photo - My brother Miguel and I on Figueira da Foz beach, when I was 5 years old).
Ignoring our pleadings for "mercy" (even those of us who liked the sea)... those strong "slaughtering" hands grabbed us firmly by the shoulders and plunged our head three or four times ... or for as long as they felt it was needed for us to become "heroically" prepared to face the tough sea of the "Silver Coastline", known for its huge cold and fearful sea waves (... I wonder what psychologists would have to say about this methodology ...)
I have never forgotten those "immersion sessions" ... and although I must say I love Figueira da Foz, I have never been able to bathe in its waters for too long, since then ...
There is always a feeling of insecurity ... a feeling of not being able to adjust my breathing rhythm to the actual going under water, irrespective of it not being forced ...
Buarcos and Figueira da Foz beaches as seen from Serra da Boa Viagem (Left) The "Silver Coastline" (Right)
Note: (Black and white photo - My brother Miguel and I on Figueira da Foz beach, when I was 5 years old).
To fear sand-hill is to be left over eyes, and I think I can understand what that is. The trend to follow gathering of people and things, in the middle of the crown, to do what others do, and believing what others do believe, sometimes makes you live in a particular way, not each one life, but one way of living of the crowd. Of course you were 5 years old, and you began disuniting and no one realised that dissimilararity, I can enhance that, but I don't know the solution.
ReplyDelete