[Kuzco]: 212.Saudade

Saudade

Every country has its unique touch. In Portugal there’s a musical style called “Fado” that leads only in the terms of “Saudade”. How to explain a word that doesn’t exist in any other language? It’s not missing something or someone very much…it’s deeply missing something or someone, but a miss that is not sadness but something more, the feeling itself may come close to mourning or…glorifying, remembering loved memories along with the ephemeral and inexorable conscience of fate and destiny.  
The word showed up a few centuries ago, when the first Europeans constructed some god awful fragile things called caravels that’d supposedly float in the water, no matter how far they went. Believing the world was plane, monsters ruled the sea and in legends as old as the Roman Empire, the Portuguese set forth in immaculate bravery and suicidal boldness, defying everything that their nightmares were made off, for the sake of exploring; Spanish followed their lead, and thus began the Age of Discovery.
After a time, there was the obvious danger of war between the always competitive duo of Spain and Portugal, the two most catholic countries in the world, after Italy of course, so the Pope took action.
This is a time few people out of the Iberia Peninsula know about, a time where the world was divided in two, between Portugal and Spain.
The year is 1500 a.c.; Portuguese sailor Pedro Alváres Cabral readies thirteen caravels to go on a familiar journey that would end up in the discovery of Brazil. Dozens, maybe hundreds went on that expedition, many lost in time, and one of them was a family man and all around party guy who needed more money.
Even after a century, accidents were often and people left behind would stay months, sometimes years, not knowing about their loved ones who had set sail; unsure if they were alive or dead, they could only feel that sense of loss and try to live with it.
Being the eve of the great departure of Cabral’s expedition, many homes had men preparing themselves for the inevitable journey they were about to undertake; some were excited and dreamy, others were in doubt and thinking while others partied like there was no tomorrow. But in this particular house, a man in his twenties looked at his pregnant wife with a decided expression as she asked:
- But why in God’s name do you have to undertake this job, husband?
- Money.
- We have enough from what you do in construction and other jobs.
- For us two, but my firstborn is arriving soon. This way, we’ll have a good home for him or her.
- ‘Tis more important he, she has the father than furniture.
- This is not about furniture; this is about food for an extra mouth, three meals a day for everyone plus clothes and a good start at any job. This is about taking care of my family, of you.
- But it’s too dangerous.
- Pedro knows what he’s doing my love…he won’t just get lost and hit some African rock on the way.
- God forgive it! – She said, hitting the table with her knuckles. – Do not even mention such a thing!
- OH, do not be so superstitious woman. If you were leading our maritime expedition to India, instead of Vasco da Gama, you’d have stopped half way across Africa! It’s a known path, a mapped one for God’s sake.

- Then why do they need such a large expedition? With… - She added, suspicious. - Very few tradable resources?
- Maria, trust me on this…it’s worth the gold they are giving to you.
- Maybe, but I do not want you to leave me for a week, let alone some years. Who knows what will happen to you?
- I’ll tell you what will happen to me. One year from now, sooner or later, I’ll be back hungry and very tired having lived through a remarkable experience…seen things people rarely see but I will still present a smile, out of my heart, to my loving wife and my dearest of child…happy to see you have been living in good conditions. 
- I see my friends… - She commented. - They lost their husbands to the sea. They don’t know how, when and more importantly WHY god took them away but they still pathetically hope they’ll come back. I don’t want to be pathetic…I don’t want to feel…
He hugged her gently, as much as he could around her voluptuous dress and said:
- You will feel, but I will come back. I promise you… - he bends over to her overgrown tummy and pats it softly whispering – And you…my child. – He kissed it then got up and kissed his darling wife, smiling and comforting her.
- Believe in me…you have always believed in me. Do it once more.
She looked down and didn’t answer. He went to bed to try and get some sleep as she stayed in her chair thinking about who to blame for this, knowing full well she’d find no one; she could only trust in God and miss him. He didn’t sleep and soon morning came, the sun shined through window like if it was a great and glorious day…and some thought it so.
Roars of men sounded off as they ran through the streets to the harbour of Belem, filling up all the caravels excited to be going sailing; not all of them of course, others were accustomed and knew it was just a routine commercial expedition but they smiled vigorously and gloriously nonetheless.
He woke up to the roars to see his wife already awake and making breakfast.
- You have to hurry husband, you might be late.
- Do not worry yourself; everyone knows they are always tardily prepared. What are you cooking?
- Something for the travel… meat, rice and lots of fruit. 
- They have enough food dear.
- Just eat.
He smiled as she turned around to go grab her food. He was worried; it didn’t feel right to go without the consent of his wife.
- Husband…
- Yes my love?
- I understand…I thought about it and I understand. I shouldn’t be so selfish. You can take care of yourself and we do need the money. - He smiled as happy as he’s never been, since he got the news about his child.
– Besides… - She went on. – It is everyone’s’ dream, even if it’s through a routine and mapped path, it is a dream to sail on to the ocean... defy its mysteries for his secrets, its dangers for its rewards. 
He smiled even wider saying:
- I’m glad you agree. But regardless of what I see during my travel…I could even discover a whole new land, I would still and will still miss you terribly.
- I will pray for you my husband. Come back safe.
He was finished with his breakfast and approached her deeply kissing her lips, then the round and large home of his soon to be infant.
- I will come back to you, but still, I feel better if I say goodbye. – He said seriously.
- No, let us not say goodbye. I’ll see you when you come back
He smiled at her wife tenderly as he opened the door, increasing the volume of the small parade outside. 
- Goodbye dear wife. Stay well, God willing.
She sighed and forced a smile back saying:
- Travel safe and well, God willing.
He left his house into the harbour and from there to one of the caravels where he accommodated himself and then came outside to see the families of a hundred men wave and shout, preaching “saudade” and love in their farewell.
His wife couldn’t be here because she was pregnant, too much of a risk in this chaos. But he can’t help but smile. Their sending off was glorious, loud and deafening exactly as legends sing it. It encourages the most cowardly of men, and he was no coward. He waved back as the caravels started moving and gaining distance. 
By accident, or some say on purpose, Pedro Cabral decided to go around Africa with a curve much longer than Vasco da Gama used, finding himself in the first portion of the new world…
They took political possession over Brazil and then continued on their mission to India, they met some Muslims who wanted to kill them and, as always, an uncooperative ocean. But on June of 1501 a.c, the expedition returned, 13 ships turned to 4 with more than 50 men dead and others left in Brazil and India. Those who were left from the brave and bold sailors, who set forth and faced the unknown, disembarked from their straining journey; and between all the sad and regretful faces, there were some happy and very relieved ones. One of them was of a woman standing happier than ever before; she was holding in her arms a baby just a few months old.