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Lonely kite runnerA few days ago, walking on Copacabana’s waterfront, Rio de Janeiro, where I
currently live, I meet a festival organized in the sands of that famous beach. Among the
attractions, the beauty of some kites caught my attention; they had an unconventional
format to our patterns, produced by a kite master, living in a distant neighborhood in the
north city zone.
One of them was shaped like a snake, consisting of a lot of kites, all tied together
by lines, forming a set with around 30m long, which graciously waved in the air, control-
led by the wind and hand movements.
Another one was shaped like a hexagon with large proportions. At the bottom, to
stabilize the kite, there was a kind of rectangular colored panel, composing a beautiful set.
The scene took me to the past, to my childhood, 1950-1960, time we lived in a
farm in the north of the state. In the summer, we used go to Grussaí and the Restinga, it
was my universe. We were in a house built by the parents of our mother Judith, family Silva
Pinto, on the Restinga‘s edge, which corresponds to the final stretch of Liberdade Avenue.
At that time, there were few houses and we were about 1km away from the city.
The perspective, from our point, was an open field, sparse trees, creeping surinam cherry
trees, casuarina trees here and there ... A beach environment mixed up with farm, situa-
ted atn the edge of Goitacá’s plain.
I spent hours outside, my skin exposed to northeast wind and summer sun, at
the time when Grussaí was only visited by us in the hottest season. Grussaí meant swim-
ming, carriage riding, fishing, northeast wind, wasps, colors, flavors and fragrances that
we could only feel there. And for me, flying kites in the Restinga!
No phone, radio, TV, etc., the hours were filled with the most simple things. I
had no friends, only the company of my sister Helvia in various games, especially board
games, lotto and cards. Vera, the youngest sister, had still not entered into my world of
interest. For several years in my childhood, flying kites was my favorite entertainment.
With so much sky and wind, there was no danger of wires, trees, buildings, and
other threats; it was the ideal place to have fun. I made and let outside the house kites
for hours. Sometimes, I let the kite sleep in heaven, with the line tied to a fence. I played
invariably alone!
Our dad’s arrival, Jorge Renato, on weekends, was always a reason for satis-
faction. Newspapers, comic books, magazines “Manchete”, “Cruzeiro”, sweets, always
something new! Lunch hours and dinner were happier with his endless stories... He once