When I was under the influence of Reeducation it seemed that research, teaching, and my real self had been placed in a glass case, where they were now static mementos I could not touch. I would look at them through the impregnable glass and try to break it with my head. I would turn my hand over and over and say, “They are no further away than the other side of my hand.” Why could I not get to them? Now that I have shed Reeducation they have broken through the glass themselves and are teeming in my flesh. My mind is remarkably clear, and it feels like the proverbial steel trap. I can jump hurdles and curl my spine like a cat.
That is how I feel some days. Other days I am as tired as I ever was. I used to wonder, how is it that, with a somewhat heavy but not utterly outrageous teaching load I can be so exhausted? The reason of course, as I always knew but which it is very helpful to articulate, is that the atmosphere in which I work is so abusive, and the workplace environment, so hostile. It is hostile not only to me, but to many, so that one must receive, witness, accept, or try to intervene in abuse for large parts of every day. Everyone is acting and reacting either like an abuser or an abuse victim and it is like being inside a Bosch painting. This is how I get so exhausted.
It is, however, the weekend, and although Friday is Oxalá’s day, I would like to sing now for Iansã Menina.
Ê parrei Oyá Iansã, ê parrei!