Zipolite
Zipolite (Playa de los muertos) Mexico
novembre 1988
novembre 1988
Ero immerso nell’acqua bassa cercando di evitare la forte corrente che spesso, creando vortici improvvisi, cambiava direzione. Dalla mia posizione con lo sguardo potevo abbracciare tutta la baia, 1500 metri di costa incontaminata. La playa de los muertos, che sulla mappa corrisponde al nome di Zipolite, è situata sulle sponde del pacifico nello stato di Oaxaca, a circa 60 kilometri a sud di Puerto Escondito. Sembra che in epoca precolombiana siano stati gli Zapotechi a tributargli un tale appellativo, forse per i riti sacrificali, oppure per le vite prese dal mare che, a quelle latitudini, riversa perennemente le sue formidabili onde. La spiaggia era deserta, il caldo intenso ma secco scoraggiava i pochi turisti che quasi certamente preferivano rilassarsi all’ombra delle palapas. Non ero
solo, alle mie spalle, oltre il punto di rottura delle onde, scorsi il viso di una ragazza di colore. Non potevo credere che fosse tanto abile da sfidare un mare così impetuoso, di sicuro aveva perso il contatto con la riva per la spinta della risacca che la stava portando sempre più al largo. Tornare indietro per chiedere aiuto era da escludere, non
c’era tempo da perdere e, nonostante la paura che mi montava nel petto, senza pensarci troppo mi lanciai in suo aiuto. La trovai sotto shock, occhi sbarrati, muta e rigida in un stato di paralisi motoria. Le agguantai un braccio e provai a trascinarla verso la spiaggia. Per quanto mi impegnassi non facevamo nessun progresso, la corrente ci risucchiava ogni volta e ci sballottava come tappi di sughero. Non ricordo per quanto tempo restammo in balia delle onde, ma di sicuro non possedevo più energia in quella lotta disperata tra la vita e la morte. Ero stremato, vedevo le capanne sempre più lontane, come macchie indistinte. Inaspettatamente cominciai a ridere con gusto, la mancanza di ossigeno mi aveva scatenato uno stato di euforia, cominciavo a sconnettere. Negli ultimi istanti di lucidità, con le residue forze a disposizione, sollevai il corpo della ragazza nell’onda che sopraggiungeva e lasciai che se la prendesse. La vidi emergere nella
spuma una ventina di metri davanti e, senza la sua zavorra, potei riprendere fiato. Ripetei l’operazione con sempre più precisione e dopo una serie infinita di tentativi approdammo sulla battigia.
Quella stessa sera accanto al fuoco dove con alcuni amici stavo arrostendo un pargo, la vidi spuntare dalla penombra e dirigersi verso di me. Si inginocchio al mio fianco e mi baciò sulla guancia. Poi, prima di ritornare da dove era venuta, mi prese la mano e vi depose un
piccolo oggetto. Qualche giorno prima, durante una sfida di pallavolo contro una selezione di locali, avevo smarrito un crocifisso di corallo che portavo legato al collo. Potete immaginare quindi la mia sorpresa, quando constatai che nel palmo della mano riluceva un crocifisso identico a quello che avevo perduto nella sabbia della playa de los muertos.
gds
solo, alle mie spalle, oltre il punto di rottura delle onde, scorsi il viso di una ragazza di colore. Non potevo credere che fosse tanto abile da sfidare un mare così impetuoso, di sicuro aveva perso il contatto con la riva per la spinta della risacca che la stava portando sempre più al largo. Tornare indietro per chiedere aiuto era da escludere, non
c’era tempo da perdere e, nonostante la paura che mi montava nel petto, senza pensarci troppo mi lanciai in suo aiuto. La trovai sotto shock, occhi sbarrati, muta e rigida in un stato di paralisi motoria. Le agguantai un braccio e provai a trascinarla verso la spiaggia. Per quanto mi impegnassi non facevamo nessun progresso, la corrente ci risucchiava ogni volta e ci sballottava come tappi di sughero. Non ricordo per quanto tempo restammo in balia delle onde, ma di sicuro non possedevo più energia in quella lotta disperata tra la vita e la morte. Ero stremato, vedevo le capanne sempre più lontane, come macchie indistinte. Inaspettatamente cominciai a ridere con gusto, la mancanza di ossigeno mi aveva scatenato uno stato di euforia, cominciavo a sconnettere. Negli ultimi istanti di lucidità, con le residue forze a disposizione, sollevai il corpo della ragazza nell’onda che sopraggiungeva e lasciai che se la prendesse. La vidi emergere nella
spuma una ventina di metri davanti e, senza la sua zavorra, potei riprendere fiato. Ripetei l’operazione con sempre più precisione e dopo una serie infinita di tentativi approdammo sulla battigia.
Quella stessa sera accanto al fuoco dove con alcuni amici stavo arrostendo un pargo, la vidi spuntare dalla penombra e dirigersi verso di me. Si inginocchio al mio fianco e mi baciò sulla guancia. Poi, prima di ritornare da dove era venuta, mi prese la mano e vi depose un
piccolo oggetto. Qualche giorno prima, durante una sfida di pallavolo contro una selezione di locali, avevo smarrito un crocifisso di corallo che portavo legato al collo. Potete immaginare quindi la mia sorpresa, quando constatai che nel palmo della mano riluceva un crocifisso identico a quello che avevo perduto nella sabbia della playa de los muertos.
gds
Zipolite
Zipolite (Playa de los Muertos) Mexico
in November 1988
I was immersed in the shallow water trying to avoid the strong current that often, creating vortices sudden, changed direction. From my position with his eyes I could embrace the whole bay, 1500 meters of pristine coastline. La playa de los muertos, which matches the name on the map of Zipolite, is situated on the shores of the Pacific in the state of Oaxaca, about 60 kilometers south of Puerto Escondido. It seems that in pre-Columbian times the Zapotec were to bestow such a title, perhaps for sacrificial rites, or for the lives taken from the sea which in those latitudes, perpetually pours its formidable waves. The beach was deserted, but the intense heat dry discouraged the few tourists almost certainly preferred to relax in the shade of the palapas. I was
just behind me, beyond the point of breaking waves, past the face of a black girl. I could not believe he was clever enough to challenge a sea so impetuous, certainly had lost contact with the shore by the force of the undertow that was taking more and more off. Go back and ask for help was to be excluded, not
was no time to lose and, despite the fear that I rode in the chest, without much thought I dashed to his aid. I found her in shock, eyes wide, silent and rigid in a state of paralysis.The I grabbed her arm and tried to drag her down to the beach. As hard I did not do any progress, the current sucked us every time and tossing it like corks. I do not remember how long we remained at the mercy of the waves, but for sure I did not have more energy in the desperate struggle between life and death. I was exhausted, I could see the huts increasingly distant, as nebulous spots. Unexpectedly began to laugh with gusto, the lack of oxygen I had unleashed a state of euphoria, I began to disconnect. In the last moments of lucidity, with the remaining forces available, he lifted the girl's body in the wave that arrived and left her to take it. I saw her stand out in
the surf about twenty meters ahead and, without his ballast, I could catch my breath. I repeated the process with more and more precision and after an endless series of attempts landed on the shore.
That same evening by the fire with some friends where he was roasting a snappers, I saw her appear from the shadows and head towards me. I knelt beside me and kissed me on the cheek. Then, before you come back to where she came, she took my hand and placed a
small object. A few days earlier, during a volleyball challenge against a selection of local, I had lost a crucifix of coral that I wore tied around his neck. You can imagine my surprise, then, when I saw that in the palm of his hand shone a crucifix identical to what I had lost in the sand of playa de los muertos.
GDS
Zipolite (Playa de los Muertos) Mexico
in November 1988
in November 1988
I was immersed in the shallow water trying to avoid the strong current that often, creating vortices sudden, changed direction. From my position with his eyes I could embrace the whole bay, 1500 meters of pristine coastline. La playa de los muertos, which matches the name on the map of Zipolite, is situated on the shores of the Pacific in the state of Oaxaca, about 60 kilometers south of Puerto Escondido. It seems that in pre-Columbian times the Zapotec were to bestow such a title, perhaps for sacrificial rites, or for the lives taken from the sea which in those latitudes, perpetually pours its formidable waves. The beach was deserted, but the intense heat dry discouraged the few tourists almost certainly preferred to relax in the shade of the palapas. I was
just behind me, beyond the point of breaking waves, past the face of a black girl. I could not believe he was clever enough to challenge a sea so impetuous, certainly had lost contact with the shore by the force of the undertow that was taking more and more off. Go back and ask for help was to be excluded, not
was no time to lose and, despite the fear that I rode in the chest, without much thought I dashed to his aid. I found her in shock, eyes wide, silent and rigid in a state of paralysis.The I grabbed her arm and tried to drag her down to the beach. As hard I did not do any progress, the current sucked us every time and tossing it like corks. I do not remember how long we remained at the mercy of the waves, but for sure I did not have more energy in the desperate struggle between life and death. I was exhausted, I could see the huts increasingly distant, as nebulous spots. Unexpectedly began to laugh with gusto, the lack of oxygen I had unleashed a state of euphoria, I began to disconnect. In the last moments of lucidity, with the remaining forces available, he lifted the girl's body in the wave that arrived and left her to take it. I saw her stand out in
the surf about twenty meters ahead and, without his ballast, I could catch my breath. I repeated the process with more and more precision and after an endless series of attempts landed on the shore.
That same evening by the fire with some friends where he was roasting a snappers, I saw her appear from the shadows and head towards me. I knelt beside me and kissed me on the cheek. Then, before you come back to where she came, she took my hand and placed a
small object. A few days earlier, during a volleyball challenge against a selection of local, I had lost a crucifix of coral that I wore tied around his neck. You can imagine my surprise, then, when I saw that in the palm of his hand shone a crucifix identical to what I had lost in the sand of playa de los muertos.
GDS
just behind me, beyond the point of breaking waves, past the face of a black girl. I could not believe he was clever enough to challenge a sea so impetuous, certainly had lost contact with the shore by the force of the undertow that was taking more and more off. Go back and ask for help was to be excluded, not
was no time to lose and, despite the fear that I rode in the chest, without much thought I dashed to his aid. I found her in shock, eyes wide, silent and rigid in a state of paralysis.The I grabbed her arm and tried to drag her down to the beach. As hard I did not do any progress, the current sucked us every time and tossing it like corks. I do not remember how long we remained at the mercy of the waves, but for sure I did not have more energy in the desperate struggle between life and death. I was exhausted, I could see the huts increasingly distant, as nebulous spots. Unexpectedly began to laugh with gusto, the lack of oxygen I had unleashed a state of euphoria, I began to disconnect. In the last moments of lucidity, with the remaining forces available, he lifted the girl's body in the wave that arrived and left her to take it. I saw her stand out in
the surf about twenty meters ahead and, without his ballast, I could catch my breath. I repeated the process with more and more precision and after an endless series of attempts landed on the shore.
That same evening by the fire with some friends where he was roasting a snappers, I saw her appear from the shadows and head towards me. I knelt beside me and kissed me on the cheek. Then, before you come back to where she came, she took my hand and placed a
small object. A few days earlier, during a volleyball challenge against a selection of local, I had lost a crucifix of coral that I wore tied around his neck. You can imagine my surprise, then, when I saw that in the palm of his hand shone a crucifix identical to what I had lost in the sand of playa de los muertos.
GDS
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