For my fourth-grade country report my teacher assigned me Denmark. DENMARK!?!? I mean, doesn’t she know I am Italian? I should be assigned Italy. But nope. Denmark. I was (I’m sure) visibly disappointed. I had never even heard of that country before. I reluctantly stuck my nose in an encyclopedia to learn about Denmark, and to my pleasant surprise I was instantly taken.
I had discovered Copenhagen’s statue of the Little Mermaid.
I felt an instant draw to her. Maybe because she seemed to be a young girl, like me. Maybe because she was a mystical mermaid. Maybe because she incited curiosity and wonder. Maybe because she was a fairytale. I couldn’t begin to understand but I fell in love with everything about her.
When Disney released the musical film The Little Mermaid, I quickly adopted the signature song as one of the standards in my singing repertoire. When I spent a year abroad in Mexico during my university days, I sang the song regularly for my Mexican friends and soon they coined me La Sirenita.
Years have gone by and I had forgotten about my affinity for mermaids, until I was captured once again by the legends on this trekking tour. Our guide recounted the impossible love story of Ulysses and Parthenope. Parthenope, the Siren who enchanted Ulysses with her singing voice. The Gods, who stamped that very path into the side of the mountain to distract Ulysses from imminent death. Ulysses, who had strapped himself to the hull of his ship, causing instead the unlikely sacrifice of Parthenope, whose body later washed upon the shores of what we now know today as Naples.
I remembered again – I must touch the water.
We completed the Path of the Gods just in time for lunch and our group hurried onto a casual cliffside caffe in Nocelle featuring ripe red tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, citrus granita, horses, geese, a donkey and an incredible breezy panoramic. We had a jolly time keeping in mind that refilling our tank was a necessity for our impending 2,000+ stair descend into infamous Positano. Truly unforgettable.
During our descent, I could see our destination in the distance getting closer and could only think about reaching that water. Once there, I went directly for the water along with some of my new trekking friends.
My intuition clearly told me “MARLO. GO IN THE WATER.”
My mind debated:
“You cannot go into the water in a bra and underwear.”
“Yes you can. Go ahead. Jump in!”
“In your underwear??? Are you crazy!? Not in fancy Positano.”
“Fine. Don’t do it and regret it later.”
I was reeling while my two inner selves were actively battling one another.
I stood quietly for a moment. I breathed. I looked out at the blue endless sea. I looked down at my feet sinking into the pebbled sand. I listened to the soft waves.
I tuned the noise out. I removed my clothes. I knew it was my time.
I was baptized. Parthenope.
