Paula Brukmüller - Flowers from Greece - The Autobiography of the Journalist Who Turned a Personal Tragedy into an Inspiring World Tour

Anxious to share all the adventures I had experienced over the past few months, I didn’t realize I was babbling too much, leaving no room for all the girls to express themselves. It was an ego blow to hear that from the one whom I had the weakest connection. At the time, I wanted to deny it, complain about it, and say she was wrong, but somehow I knew there was a lesson to be learned there, and I decided to take her words in humility, though that wasn’t easy at the moment.

The night before I climbed the volcano, I went to bed in distress for the future. I just wondered: go home or keep traveling?

The cars stopped at Laguna Lejia before sunrise. With the first rays of sunshine, the snow-capped mountains reflected in the water like a mirror, duplicating the landscape. As if just one version of that amazing place was too little to fill anyone’s eyes with.

I spent a few minutes trying not to think of the cold as I stared at the reflection in the water. For a second, I forgot the freezing sensation on the tip of my nose and asked myself, What next? Where should I go?

I didn’t have time to think about the answer. The mountain guide assembled the group to instruct us on how to climb the Lascar volcano crater, 5,600 meters above sea level. From there, the top of the mountain seemed close, but the biggest challenge, he said, was oxygen, not distance.

In the brief explanation, I learned that our bodies drastically experience any extra effort when 2,400 meters above sea level, because the air becomes thinner. This means that oxygen molecules are not as close together as they are at sea level. I remembered learning about it in high school science classes, but I never thought I’d feel it.

- Breathe more deeply and slowly so that your lungs can catch more oxygen and send it to the brain and the rest of the body through your blood – Checho explained in a very understandable portunhol . [25] Portunhol is the mixture of Spanish and Portuguese languages, usually used by both Portuguese and Spanish speakers so they can understand one another more easily.

When the cars finally parked at the top of the road, each of us was given a trail stick to help us climb. The Lascar volcano is still active and its last eruption was in 2006, so the entire mountain is made up of rocks and volcanic sand, making the trek to the top quite unstable.

Within the first 30 minutes of walking, the guide set a water stop for the whole group. He recommended constant hydration, but in small quantities. My head had already started hurting, and the difficulty in breathing made me question my ability to reach the top. I had never done anything like that in my life. I didn’t even like hiking.

We were all silent when the expedition started again. Even talking was an extremely tiring activity there. Patricia noticed my tiredness and approached me gently.

- Count each breath, Paula. 1, 2. 1, 2… – she said softly.

I focused my attention on my steps and followed her advice. I counted each inhale and each exhale, which were synchronized with my steps. The cold air coming in through my nose filled my entire chest and diaphragm.

At each stop to drink water, we witnessed the bleak desert landscape getting bigger and more stunning behind us. Miles of ice-covered yellow mountains under an unbelievably blue sky.

Pauses were the only moments when I forgot my breathing and allowed other thoughts to consume me. One was about nature being so present at times. If I tried to climb faster, I would simply pass out. I could even die. “If I can’t control the speed of my steps, how can I control the events of my life,” I laughed internally.

When we were about halfway up the mountain, one of the girls started to get sick. She didn’t want to give up, but she needed to make more stops. However, our group’s pauses needed to be controlled, as the temperature of -5C degrees rapidly cooled the body, requiring more oxygen in the bloodstream to keep us warm.

With that, unfortunately, the group could not wait for her and a greater distance was opening. Patricia and Pedro, the other guide, were behind following her pace.

It was about three kilometers of climbing. I lost count of how many times during the trip I walked that distance to save money on transportation. But here, three kilometers was an eternity. With less than a kilometer to the top, the first blocks of ice began to appear and our colleague gave up the climb. She went down accompanied by Pedro and Patricia continued to reach the group.

Checho warned that we still had almost an hour’s walk. It was hard to believe because I could already see the smoke from the crater right before my eyes. Although the time sounded challenging, seeing the top so close gave me the strength to carry on. With every step and every breath I counted, I mentally repeated my new mantra: “Focus on the goal and take one step at a time.”

The guide, who always followed behind the group, accelerated a little on the final stretch to register our arrival with the cell phone. I was first in line and I could already feel the emotion overflowing my whole body. The smell of sulfur was like a mountain incense welcoming us.

The wind blew more violently and the tears welling up in my eyes quickly dried. I can’t explain what was the feeling that came over me. There was no thought in my mind. I just cried and looked at that creepy hole, full of earth and stones, blowing white smoke and telling myself that within me pulsed the same force that makes lava rivers explode from the center of the earth.

I sat in silence for a few minutes, sitting on the edge of the crater, watching the horizon across the volcano get lost in more icy-yellow mountains.

When my thoughts were finally organized, I returned to Caraiva. I looked at myself sitting in the window of that bus, sad, shattered and hopeless, and heard the same question: “Who is the woman I want to be?”

- I am not the stories you told me. I am not who my parents and my teachers said I was. I am not who I believed to be for all these years. I am not the sad experiences that I had. I am not people’s perceptions of me. I am who I allow myself to be every day. I am the courage and strength that each of my experiences brought forth in me.

There, in a volcano in the Atacama Desert, I discovered that I am who I want to be.

There, high up in Lascar, I discovered it was time to come back to Brazil. For how long? My heart is the universe and it will let me know.

Edition by Alexandra Vidal

Revision by Raquel Lima

Cover Art by Flávio Carvalho

Graphic Project by Ana Paula Cunha

Cover photo by Patrícia Shussel Gomes

ISBN 978-17-1329-045-2

Copyright Editora Livr(a), 2019

http://www.editoralivra.com/

CIP-BRASIL

http://cbl.org.br/servicos/ficha-catalografica

Some names in this book have been modified for privacy purposes.

Cachaça is the brazilian most famous rum. The spirit is a sort of liquor distilled from fermented sugarcane juice and it’s the strongest alcoholic drink in Brazil. It contains between 38 to 54 percent alcohol by volume.

Momo also known as Rei Momo (King Momo) is a symbol of the Brazilian Carnival. It’s inspired by a Greek Mythological character that personifies irony. However, in Brazil, the character is adapted to the Carnival festivities as someone who likes Carnival and is preferable overweight. He should be nice, playful, and good-humored.