Itacambira, the Lost Horizon of Diadorim

Itacambira in tupi-guarani means pointed rock stemming from the jungle. An anonymous version of the story goes:

“Small town

With beautiful dark haired women

Looks like a garden!

It has gold, it has cattle

It has starry skies

Endless riches!”

Travel Journal

Day 02/01/2007

At the height of summer, in the month of February, three travel companions and I are standing 1100 meters above sea level, enjoying the cold breeze of Alto Jequitinhonha, north of Minas Gerais, in Itacambira, surrounded by high sierras on the mountain range of Espinhaço, a cerrado region (Brazilian type of savanna). The vegetation has already been destroyed in many areas and substituted for green deserts, monocultures of eucalyptus. The region was once very rich in mining activity. Today there remains an abundance of crystal and possibly other minerals. From the stories, it is noticeable how much the area has been exploited: ambition and greed, disputes over land and precious stones, typical of many cities in the Valley of Jequitinhonha. Today it guards the riches of waters: falls and many rivers.

It is a one street town, very few houses and a population of more or less six thousand, most living in surrounding rural areas. The main church, singular in its oriental baroque style, is over 300 years old. Some historians say that it was erected in 1707, other books register 1689. But one this is for sure: this is where the most exciting moment took place of Guimarães Rosa’s, The Devil to pay in the Great Backlands, where the outlaw Riobaldo concluded his search, finding the baptistery of Maria Deodorina of Fé Betancourt Marins, the Diadorim, “who was born to wage war untouched by fear and lived great loves without the enjoyment of love”.

It is worth remembering the song “The romance of Riobaldo and Diadorim”, composed and interpreted by Antonio Nóbrega:

 “When I saw those eyes,

Green as no pasture,

Harsh sugarcane leaves,

I never tire of remembering them

I wished they would never go away,

And I never go far from them.

We live misadventure

Of an evil of occult love,

That has grown inside of us

Like shadow, a phantom in passing.

Stranger to a kind touch

Only war, fire and insult.

On the big-fatal-night,

My love was enchanted.

Body entirely stripped nude

She showed herself wryly.

And what was once a secret,

Was revealed without further delay.

Under bandit clothes,

A woman’s body I saw

God given, lifeless,

The shoal of my happiness

And thus, Diadorim…

My uncontained bleeding.”

Some say that we are traveling 200 years back through time. Of course there is a hint of exaggeration in this number. But it is very magical going back to a place that brings back stories from our childhood, to remember the culinary flavors of the interior, of the farms.

Hotel da Dona Coló. Free range chicken, the taste is indescribable. Everything is planted and harvested around here. There are no industrial products or canned foods in our meals. Manioc flour, new beans, angu (corn mash) and okra, prepared in wood fire stoves, cooked in lard. Sweet pastries, doughnuts and biscuits baked in a clay oven in the backyard. Milk from the farm, homegrown roasted and ground coffee. Homemade dulce de leche, sweets made from quince fruit. Delicious! The center table is set in the large fitted kitchen, a place to savor life, stories and togetherness.

We are even graced with the presence of parakeets, talking parrots that wake us up singing melodies and summoning the lady of the house, yelling good morning. I’ll never forget her dog, Veludo.

At night, we huddle around the blazing wood fire oven and tell local stories. Here, people and their families still gather once in a while for a good prose. Technology comes in slowly: TV, cars and lots of motorcycles that have substituted horses for transport. But the night silence is interrupted only by roosters crowing.

So pretty!

I was moved by Madam Coló’s joyfulness. Welcoming, hospitable, concerned with well receiving people, especially with good and plentiful food. Last night I noticed her worry: do you think that the food was enough for everyone? She ran off and prepared more beans, offered more fried eggs. I felt like telling her to not worry, that everyone was very well served, it was already almost 10:00 PM. Then we had tea, with those herbs and drops of pinga, which was great to warm everyone up and prevent possible colds and flus. In the end the adventure of the day was daring.    was moved by mpr a good the lit wood fire oven and tell the house, screaming good morning.

Adventure? What adventure? Will it be possible to describe? I promise to try. Until then!