Winding Down

And woe the bell tolls,

As time winds to a still,
Pictures taken of present past,
Solid now and here to stay,
The water wheel slowed,
Our time undone
We seek new life
We find our way.

* * *

If I were to represent my time in Brazil graphically, mathematically even, it would most likely resemble a Gaussian distribution, also known as a bell curve. The bell curve is a graph that is used to represent a set of variables in which most values cluster around a mean, while outliers can be found above and below the middle line. Speaking metaphorically, the bell curve is an excellent model for tracking the rise and fall of a phenomenon—the manner in which an object, or individual, or event is birthed into existence, rises to prominence, and then falls back to the origin from which it came.

If I were to track my journey along this line, it would be difficult to say exactly where the beginning is. Perhaps the beginning lies sometime in the late 90’s when my dad forced me to write a summer book report on It Happened in Brazil, my great grandfathers travel and missionary writings. This is the first time I can concretely remember thinking about Brazil as something other than an imaginary place full of jungle and scantily clad Amazons. Perhaps we could track it to my first trip to Brazil in 2003, or to the beginning of this blog, or even my sudden decision to move here in 2008.

Wherever the genesis lies, this mental child of mine has certainly run its course, requiring a great deal of perseverance, maturation, and development. And I feel that my time here is drawing to a close. If I were to visually scan the bell curve of my story, moving my eyes from left to right, I would certainly move past the introduction, past the rising action, and the climax. What’s on the horizon now is a fall back to the beginning, a resolution that has its end somewhere where I began. I suppose this bell curve, this dramatic sequence is at the heart of every great story and quest. We must go out in order to come back in, and my time to return home is immanent.

In two days, Vivi and I will head to the American consulate in Rio de Janeiro for our visa interview. If all goes well the imperial authorities will check our documents and say yes to the future that we have been planning. If they say yes, then my story will come to a close, and I will launch myself in some other obscure direction.


For now, the bell begins to toll, and my time, our time, is winding to an end.