A Very Precious Thing

Thighs in water, hands on the hood, I got to remember something very important.

In my experience, relationships between women have a bright potential to be complicated. Much more complicated than my relationships with men.

Men don’t need to talk things out for … weeks. Men don’t spend a lot of time wondering what we might be thinking (even though I wouldn’t mind if they did it a little bit more). This makes for simpler, more straight-lined connections.

As a generalization.

Also, the complexity of women-to-women relationships is what can make them so fulfilling. We go deep, we come back and dig a little more. And when we walk away, it can be hard.

One beautiful facet of my women friendships is that we can be really good at supporting each other. For a moment or for a lifetime. Friends or even strangers.

A few months back, during the height of the rainy season. I had driven to the village, grateful once again that my car was tall and strong and could cross the three Rios without me having to give it much thought. On the way home and as I approached the gently flowing river, I noticed a small car stopped right smack in the middle of the water. Not good. On my side of the Rio, a small young woman in a pale blue sundress looked stressed. Not realizing the car was hers, I asked if she wanted a ride to the other side. No, no, she said. I need help getting my car out.

Oh.

She explained that her car had stopped running as she was halfway across and didn’t know what to do.

Just as I was thinking that my car could probably pull hers, two men arrived, one of them possibly her partner. As they brainstormed what to do, I offered to attach the two cars together and get hers to the other side that way.

They liked the idea, got ropes, waded into the water, attached one end to each car and when they gave me the thumbs up, I pressed the gas. At first, I could feel some resistance, and then, nothing. I looked back and they were waving at me to stop. The rope had broken.

The woman was in the water up to her knees and visibly distressed.

I then offered to make my way to the other side of the river, position myself right behind her car, and gently push it with mine. They pondered that for a bit and then decided that no, what they would do would be to get another guy and instead push the car backward and up the sandy bank.

When the third man arrived, I settled into my seat, leaned over the steering wheel, and watched, holding my breath with each uno, dos, tres that seemed to rock the car each time a little bit more.

The woman had her back to me, hands on the hood and she too was pushing. Just as I thought that really, she could let the guys do it, she turned and gestured for me to … do something. I wasn’t sure what. Had they decided that they wanted my car to push after all? I mouthed something to her, asking for clarification. No, she gestured back. She wanted me next to her, pushing too. I laughed and mouthed again (mouthing in Spanish is pretty fun, it turns out) that I wasn’t strong enough to make any difference. But she was determined and wanted me with her. Maybe she had noticed that I had gone to the gym a couple of times lately, I wondered.

I got out of my nice dry car and waded thighs-deep into a water that I know not to be the cleanest water. The woman smiled and made room for my hands next to hers and then we did the uno, dos, tres again, me doing more visualizing than actual pushing. The car certainly was rocking and with her eyes looking into mine and me laughing because this was pretty silly, the next uno, dos, tres propelled it out!

She was SO thrilled. She high-fived me as though she and I had moved this huge hunk of metal to dry ground all on our own.

For a second, she made me believe that maybe we had.

The whole thing was wild and powerful and as I made my way home I pondered - and have since - about this special thing that happens between women. How we reach for each other, need each other. How we intuitively know, maybe from some long ago memory, that together, we are so strong, unstoppable.

This is a very precious thing for us to know, and to live with.