I was told this incredible true story from my awesome new Brazilian friend and houseguest and I just have to share it with you.
About 7 years ago, before she married my friend, she was dating this amazing man named Gutto with whom she was deeply in love. They were the best of friends. Gutto was 33 and she was 26 and although a few years apart in age, Gutto and Kayoko loved each other very much. He was patient and gentle with her at a time where she had become very self reproaching and hard on herself. She had been heading towards self destruction until Gutto had “loved her back to herself”, as she puts it. She says he gave her back her ability to love herself, gently moving her to see how much he loved her through his own eyes.
They were together for only for five months when Kayoko received a call that Gutto had been killed instantly in a car crash the nigth before. Her world crashed and she faced the devastation of trying to resolve her relationship with God and to find once again the desire to live. having been raised in a spiritual family (her father was a Minister for a non-deoniminational Joh Rei church in Brazil), Kayoko had a great deal of support, but still found herself questioning God’s wisdom.
A few days after the tragedy they held a funeral for Gutto where Kayoko finally got the chance to meet Gutto’s parents. She sat with his mother and they spoke for long hours after the funeral. Gutto’s mother began to tell Kayoko the amazing story of how Gutto came to be.
Apparently years before, in the late 1960’s, revolution loomed large over Brazil. Marshall law was on the brink, and the population were fighting for their basic civil liberties such as the freedom of expression.
The woman told Kayoko that during this time, she had been involved as a student in the protests and one day found herself arrested for political insurrection and thrown in jail. She was beaten with clubs and thrown into a crowded cell with 11 other women. They had a hole in the floor to urinate and a small sliver of light shining through a slit cut out in the thick cement walls 10 feet over their heads was the only light available to any of them. Due to the protests, that day at the jail was very busy. The women sat forlornly in the cell; the louder ones were prostitutes who were well accustomed to the “legal” procedures in Rio di Jinero in 1964.
Maya, as Kayoko knew the woman to be called, sat on the floor in the back left corner of the cell and kept to herself. She was terrified. A philosophy student at the University of Rio, Maya never envisioned herself spending any time in jail, although she knew it was a harsh possibility that could take her away from her family and school for an indeterminate period of time. She took the risk because she believed it was more important to be involved in the changes taking place than in her own personal welfare. She would question her own motivations many times sitting there on the cold jail cell floor.
Soon she heard whoops and hollers from the women in her cell; at least the ones who were used to the drill. She heard a bunch of new voices; male. They marched passed her unbeknownst and were place done by one in an equally crowded cell beside her own. She was only 20 years old but right now felt like a small child as the fear that crept over her threatened to unleash her tears.
Police officers came to redictribute the large group they had arrested placing them in individual cells. After all of the transferring of cells and moving around had been completed, within a few hours, Maya found herself isolated in a dark cell on the third floor of the jailhouse. In Brazil, the jails were not then separated into sections for women and men, especially not for political prisoners, who if found guilty were simply marched to the execution building where they were tortured and executed. In her small cell, Maya began to cry. She felt like a child wanting her parents to rescue her, although she knew they wouldn’t even be able to find her for maybe even weeks. A gentle male voice came across to her through the thick ugly grey cement walls and she became quiet.
“Are you ok?” she heard the man whisper
“I don’t think so”, Maya said uncertainly.
A dialogue began with the man and lasted many months. The legal system lost her file and his, and many disastrous delays were incurred before finally one days, maybe 7 months later, an officer arrived to tell Maya that her family had succeeded with the legal system and paying of the fines and she would be released. She was not even given five minutes to pack or say goodbye to the man across the wall whom she had never seen physically but had fallen deeply in love with. He had also fallen for her and promised quickly that no matter what happened, no matter how long it took, no matter how far they were he would find her!
Maya was released into the custody of her family and spent many months and years recovering from her jail experience.
One day, many years later in a town near Rio a man heard a women arguing over the price of apples with a local merchant. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around and looked into the eyes of a man she had never seen.
“Can I help you?” she asked
“It’s you”, he said smiling a big happy grin.
“It’s you…” breathed Maya whispering out her words the breath being knocked from her gut.
Her arms thrown around him, they were married a few week later. Gutto is a result of that relationship.
I am not in the habit of writing love stories but this one is both entirely true and so very interesting.
Gutto was 33 when he died. Kayoko is 33 now that she has arrived here in Canada and begun her new life. My intuition says that Gutto was very important to someone who also has something very important to do. It seems to work like that in a big energetic chain of one thing to the next, and quite frankly I am quite excited to see what the next chapter brings.