Review on a Location Description

The Alchemist
Paulo Coelho

The Alchemist is a book written by Paulo Coelho where a young shepherd named Santiago has a dream about an existing treasure and hunts for it throughout the story, passing through unknown lands and experiencing things that no one ever had.
It was in a ruined structure that this young man had this dream over and over again, “ a small and abandoned church” where he would spend the nights sometimes after tiring days of wandering with his herd.
“The roof had fallen in long ago, and an enormous sycamore had grown on the spot where the sacristy once stood”. The author used simple and easy language for describing this young boy’s refuge where he used to lay and use the book he was reading currently as a pillow after sweeping the dusty floor with his own jacket. In this passage the writer tries to create the visual that even though the boy is a nomad he also requires comfort, and since he’s not encountered in his own house, he makes the environment adjustable for him.
“The sheep entered from a gate” and after it, Santiago would place planks across it to avoid having the flock wandering away during the night. The idea of an entry gate which is later on latched gives the feeling of protection, a way to describe the temporary dwelling for the boy and his herd.
The dreams the young shepherd used to have frequently drove him out of this routine of his to selling his own flock to seek for this treasure abroad. When he finally got his answer everything brought him back to the same church and we never forget the importance of it while reading because the boy keeps remembering and missing his old and nomad life, telling his secrets to his sheep and looking at the stars, while sleeping, through the semi-covered roof.
When he returns to get his treasure he finds the structure in the same place and decay but still he was happy to be there again.
The church was pretty well described by the author though he didn’t refer anything on the surroundings; hence it’s hard to place the abandoned church somewhere in space.
After travelling so much just to find the treasure, the story turns out to be interesting because of the various ways the writer found to describe each and every place, person, smell and felling that he would experience.
The story ends where it starts, and the same place is the key of the whole story which is fascinating!

The Black Hole

My country used to be a Portuguese Province. A colony, Moçambique.
When they first stepped on it they called it “Land of the good people”, and it was on this same land where they killed millions of natives. Slaves.
The place I am about to describe is historical. I first hear about during a history class, and when I was around 11 had the opportunity to experience this place. The black hole, I called it.

It was summer, January 2001, when my sister and I got out of the noisy capital city and went with relatives to spend the holidays in a beach city 6 hours away from our town, Inhambane.
It is a very calm town which still has colonial remains in the architecture left behind - the typical brick tiled sloped roofs with the brick chimneys jutting out, the decoration detail of blue and white ceramic tiles around the wide windows with figures of saints or famous sayings, etc.
Their presence could also be noticed further ahead, around 12 km far from the welcoming town. To To the cliff of the Tofinho beach (Praia do Tofinho originally), known as one of the most dangerous beaches in that area.
A Land Rover took us all the way up there. Sand beaten road, wild grass growing on both sides, but when reaching almost the top we could start noticing some concrete structures coming up.
I could see no signs of water during the small trip we took, but as soon as we reached flat, almost even land the view was just fascinating. The infinite orange, pink and purple sky merging with the deep blue of the ferocious Indian Ocean. The sun was going down on my back, but in front of me I had the most perfect picture I ever saw in my life and I even stopped breathing for a while, until I noticed it was not a dream and I was actually there. Moving towards almost the edge as I looked down of the cliff I could see the waves crashing hard on the rocks. On both sides there were few other sets of cliffs.
There was some grass growing mixed with sand and rock and right at the end, on the edge of the imposed cliff I could find a square hole demarcated by four stacks of stone on each corner barely standing. While looking down on this hole I could see water, coming up, and going down again. Down there it led directly to open ocean. The walls of the hole in the rocky cliff were rough and pointed and went throughout the whole length. It was then I recalled my history classes and realized that it was there. Where millions of slaves were punished to death, drowned. All the magic of the place was broke for few instants.
The hole was just big enough for one individual and they would be taken down using a rope and kept until the water level rose.
A monument was kept right in the middle of the cliff in memory to these people. A tall, pyramidal in shape, white structure with a star carved in all four sides.
But, as I was going down the cliff, towards the town, I forgot all this enraging history looking at the beautiful sun setting behind the tall palm trees and wished everyone had the chance of experience that place once in their lives!