07 Mar ALDEIA – 05 MARCH 2020 – DEAD AND ALIVE

When you live in the jungle you can step on a snake. In the city, a car might hit you over. In both cases, negligence and luck make the difference. 

Last night I almost stepped on a big venomous snake. It was dark and it was coiled on the stairs.

I was waiting for Ana to put on her slippers and I was looking at the snake thinking it was Ana’s jacket. 

I ask her why she let her jacket on the stairs. 

She answers that her jacket is on the window sill. 

I bend to see what is that thing on the stairs and the snake lifts his head towards me. 

I froze and stepped back. 

I yelled as loud as I could “cobra” as if we had been invaded. 

In Brazil, all snakes are called cobra. 

That is, all snakes are cobras, only the cobra is called Naja. 

In a few seconds, the ones that were around came and smashed its head. 

Nobody wants in their surroundings one of the most venomous snakes of South America. It was a beautiful piece of Surucucu. 

In Tupi Indian language, Suruku’ku means “the one that bites a lot”.

I was thinking that the snake that bites a lot could have bitten me. 

I had been only half a meter away from him. 

The old saying “a good deed never goes unpunished” is quite true. 

They say that if I had got bitten, I would have had only 20 minutes of agony. 

I always thought I never wanted to die in a stupid accident, I want to live the moment, the passing, quietly and peacefully and, if possible, after 90 years old. 

It would have been a terrible death if Surucucu had kissed me. 

Other than that, nothing, we are lucky…

***

MORT SI VIU

Cand traiesti in jungla poti calca pe un sarpe. La oras, o masina  poate da peste tine. In ambele cazuri, neatentia si norocul conteaza. 

Aseara era sa calc pe un sarpe mare si veninos. Era intuneric iar el era facut colac pe scari. O asteptam pe Ana sa-si puna papucii si ma uitam la sarpe crezand ca este jacheta ei. 

O intreb de ce si-a aruncat jacheta pe jos. 

Ea-mi raspunde ca jacheta ei nu este pe jos ci pe pervaz. Ma aplec sa vad ce-i chestia de pe scari cand el, sarpele, se ridica si se uita la mine. 

Am inghetat si m-am dat un pas in spate. 

Am strigat cat m-au tinut plamanii “cobra” de parca am fi fost invadati.

In Brazilia la sarpe se zice cobra. 

Adica toti serpii sunt cobre numai cobra este numita Naja. 

In cateva clipite s-au strans cei de prin preajma si fara prea multe cuvinte i-au facut capul zob. Nimeni nu-si doreste liber prin preajma unul dintre cei mai veninosi serpi din America de Sud. 

Era un frumos exemplar de Surucucu. In limba indienilor Tupi, Suruku’ku inseamna “cel care musca mult”.

Ma gandeam ca sarpele “care musca mult” m-ar fi putut musca. 

Eram la numai jumatate de metru de el. 

Vechea zicala “pe cine nu lasi sa moara nu te lasa sa traiesti” e cam adevarata. 

Cica daca ma musca, n-as mai fi avut decat 20 de minute de agonie. 

Intotdeauna m-am gandit ca nu vreau sa mor in vreun accident stupid, vreau sa traiesc realmente momentul, trecerea, in liniste si pace daca s-ar putea si asta dupa 90 de ani. 

Ar fi fost o trecere chinuita daca ma pupa Surucucu. 

In rest, nimic, avem noroc…