"You need to learn to walk alone." That was the last sentence I heard from Claudia Wonder on October 24, 2010. Neither she nor I expected that two days later, at the Reference and Treatment Center in São Paulo, she would say goodbye. My friend Claudia died at the age of 55, victim of an infection caused by a fungus found in pigeon feces.
It was actually very difficult to spend a year away from Claudia and, as she said, to walk alone. I have to recognize, however, that the transvestite I met was not exactly the one who threw herself naked in the gooseberry bathtub, remembered by Madame Satã regulars in the 80s. Nor was she the one who invested in dubbing at the Nostro Mondo nightclub. Nor that of pornochanchadas, drinks, rock shows (Jardim das Delícias and Truque Sujo), drugs and memorable parties alongside famous personalities such as Cazuza, Caio Fernando Abreu, Zé Celso...
The Claudia I really knew was the everyday one.
Who is friends with a transvestite? At parties, parades and militant groups it is easy to call them beautiful, take photos, say that they are not prejudiced. But who brings a transvestite into their own life? Because it was in this herd of negative responses (which many people will be reluctant to deliver) that I felt extreme loneliness in her. After all, she was a darling, respected, praised, but surrounded by comet friends... Those who are and were important, but who pass away. And they pass, anyway.
There were many times when I saw her complain, make solitude monologues, cry, fight, especially when I stopped visiting her in a week. "Friendship is like a little plant, if you don't water it it dies", he once told me. And on the same day there I was in her apartment in the noble Haddock Lobo, a place inhabited by mysterious teddy bears, pin-ups, Marylins and even Teletubbies.
Combined with the prejudice offered to all trans people, Claudia was also moving towards the other side of the coin: that of getting older and no longer being so sought after. The result was the same as every famous personality at the mercy of the media industry that constantly seeks something new. I was scared, for example, when a gay magazine refused to interview her. Yes, a gay magazine! They told me: "interview with a transvestite? Never! Gay people don't buy it!" Ugh…
But I was also happy when I watched your documentary "Meu Amigo Claudia" (by Dácio Pinheiro) and even when I was responsible for your trip to ENUDs (National Meeting of Sexual Diversity) on October 10th, in Campinas. On this day, I saw an audience of young people standing up and applauding. It was his last public appearance.
I've walked alone since then, of course, but Claudia continued to be present this year. Be it because of everything we talked about and that resonates to this day, or because of the works and objects that came into my hands. Today, I know much more about Claudia, actress, singer, activist and performer, thanks to the material provided by administrative assistant Marcelo Linardi, fan and friend Elzio Zoyde, and journalists Vitor Ângelo and Eduardo Moraes.
After spending several months feeling sad, I accidentally remembered our last conversation, the phrases that came before "You need to learn to walk alone". Claudia said: "don't be afraid of anything. The big culprit of everything that hinders our lives is fear. Everything will work out, you'll see."
Claudia… Always wonderful, always Wonder. How I miss you!
*Collaboration for the website A Capa
