Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Sunrise at João Francisco beach - Quissamã RJ


Nascer do sol sobre o mar de João Francisco em 28 de novembro de 2009 - Quissamã RJ

Eighth Macaé Free Masonry Anual Meeting




     Gonçalves Ledo Lodge as every November in these last eight years, prepares a very special supper with the presence of hundreds of masons from all Macaé’s lodges and from everywhere else. I myself have been present to all of those meetings. Worshipful Master Alexandre once more directed the Reunion perfectly.

     I had left Brasília on a plane on Thursday 27th, got to Macaé by bus and rent a car there. Went to Ilhote Sul, met Gomide, Rui and Valdecir who came from Rio das Ostras after my call.
    Then I went very late in the night to Quissamã, headed to the João Francisco Beach and waited for the sun by the seastrand.


     We drank a lot on Friday morning and met Azuil and some other friends then we went to Barra do Furado for some fish and beers, me and Guilherme. Came back to Quissamã to see my old place, Valter and Mr. Brants. The papaya tree planted by Lourdinha is now full of fruits and is as tall as the roof. The swimming pool looks like the city damp. It seems everything just vanished away after I left. Well it is not my place no longer. I shouldn’t care. I went to the beach again and took one of those so long expected walks as hundreds I used to take when I was living there.


     Well, night came, Guilherme, Mery and Athos was there and later Gutinho, Veruska and Netinho arrived. A lot of drinking again and I slept like a log. Got up on Saturday, turned back the car to the garage and went to a hotel at Teixeira de Gouveia to wait for the time to go to the supper.

     Guilherme came to Macaé and hitchhiked me to Centro de Convenções.
     I met a lot of old good friends and the brethren. Just among the brethren, right opposite to my chair, some ten meters distant, there was a very old brother and he was so smartly kidding and throwing balls of bread at everybody's face around. He just hit me on the forehead. Hard! I just had to give it back and I got a paper napkin and filled it up with farofa, poured beer to make it a little heavier and all the brothers around me just watched and were eager to see me throwing the flour bomb on that little old man who looked like a bad kid. And the spirits of joke guided my hand. The bomb hit him right on his chin and pieces spread all around including the pockets and inside the shirts of the brothers near him. Everyone laughed a lot. They are not only my brothers; they are just unforgetable.
     I went back to the hotel with my brother Arthur and flew back to Brasília on Sunday at noon thinking about next year's meeting.