P O R T U G A L -- você segura um pedaço do meu coração.

Portugal is a country that dates back 1000+ years (the US is only 200+ years old)! With its quaint chalk-hued houses, vibrant colors, hills, romanesque-baroque cathedrals, gothic bookshops, fairy-tale castles, bustling culture, music, art and people, it became to me a place of many wonders that I had yet to continue to explore. A place I did not want to leave and that a piece of my heart continues to yearn to discover. Embedded in me is Portugal's sentimental beauty.

Portugal holds a special place in my heart as well because it was the first time I traveled on my own and had the blessing to meet beautiful souls along the way. For example, I took an overnight bus from Madrid to Porto, which took about 7hrs. I arrived early the next day before I could check-into my lodging. So I walked from the place the bus left us to a nearby metro station at 6am with two strangers one of whom waited with me for a couple of hours until my lodging opened and I could head over there. This man was Portuguese by inheritance however, he had been born and raised in Venezuela. His parents had migrated from Portugal to Venezuela in the 50s to work in the fields. He was now starting from scratch with his family in a nearby town close to Madrid. He told me about the situation in Venezuela—the political, social and economic turmoil in the country; the violence and insecurity that made the country not a viable option to raise his children and to live, period. He also told me about the prejudice and racism he was facing in Madrid, which was hard for him to comprehend considering 1) their shared history and  2) the lack of humanity for their neighbor’s plight. He told me about his experiences as a paramedic during protests and altercations with the national guard leading up to his migration. It is not easy to tell one’s story but, sometimes it is necessary for one’s own peace of mind and also, to create consciousness among others. And like this man, I also met another woman on the train on my way to Cascais (beach city) in Lisboa who told me about how she and her family had to leave the country after her brother was assassinated while jogging. 

And so I take with me their stories and I share them with you all because they want their reality to be heard, to matter, for to them, they have been abandoned to their own plight with little international attention and help. The least we can do is spread the word.

Portugal to me was a romantic city, especially Lisboa where I spent the majority of my time living and taking Portuguese classes for a few weeks. And like any romance novel, the underlying pain and nostalgia made Lisboa that much more alluring and inspiring to me. Embedded in its social and historical fabrics are times of suffering; and we know that true character is revealed in adversity.  And in Portugal, like in many countries, a people suffered in the face of socio-economic disequilibrium, which is how Fado was born—the song of Portugal. A song that inspires people to feel and be felt; "a poem that is heard and seen."

Fado Legend, Amalia Rodriguez singing Barco Negro. Portugal was a seafaring giant in the 15th and 16th centuries...Portugal's "discovering period." 

                                                    Rio Douro

I loved learning Fado's history; its earliest reference dates back to the second half of the 19th century. The Portuguese guitar was brought over by the English colonies beginning in the 20th century. [side-note: At the end of the day we are all influenced by one another, by the colonizers, the colonized and those in between]. It was a period of major political and institutional turmoil in Portugal, where the margins of society gathered together in leisure meetings down broad and narrow streets and steep hills to sing about the plight of urban lives which were marked by delinquency and transgressions. As of 1860, the working class began to get formally organized and Fado became an important means of communication. It reminds me so much of nueva canción and the beloved trovadores of the Caribbean and Latin America.

Fado “is a song between a musician’s heart and his/her instrument.” It is nostalgia in its purest form; unrestricted lyrical poetry in song, completely infused with emotion where utopia and fatalism meet to create nostalgic tones. It’s often a sad song that sings of old times past, of leaving and being left behind; and living with that reality often inspires art and poetry. Fado gives life, gives strength and courage, and in those days it gave the dreamer who did not have the luxury to dream, a space and place to be seen. But it is also a song that tires the soul because of its intensity of emotion. Nonetheless, it is a song that inspires people to feel, even those that fear to feel the most.

“Vida vivida volta atras vida vivida, para eu tornar a ver aquela vida perdida que nunca soube vivir, que saude.” Argentina Santos

A common symbol of Portugal is the swallow because it characterizes feelings that are characteristic of the Portuguese culture such as love, loyalty, migration, home and family, which I witnessed. And it’s interesting because I have often associated myself with the swallow due to its migratory nature. And the swallow also shares its beautiful song wherever it goes. I hope and pray that as I travel I also leave behind something beautiful and impacting wherever I go. 

                                                                             <3

It's never easy to leave a place especially when relationships are developed with locals and the place itself. I stayed with a host family for a couple of weeks and attended Portuguese classes because I wanted to brush up on the Portuguese I had learned years ago in Bahia, Brasil. I met some amazing and kind human beings in class, with whom I can say I developed friendships with and who I hope to visit again in Lisboa or Austria one day. I met an old soul, gentle yet fierce, which taught me a little something about resilience and courage down na Pimenta. I met free-spirited people at the train station and at an open mic. I learned from them special traits that I hope to embody, and I hope I was able to reflect Jesus’s love.

                                                      My view on a daily <3 in Lisboa

I loved walking along the streets of Lisboa every day to class; running down the Ribeira as well as learning about new music. Music was a large part of my trip. I learned both about Portuguese music as well as USA music—including Sixto Rodriguez and The Doors one of which I had never heard of and the latter, I knew superficially about but, I’ll leave my thoughts on these musicians and bands for another time. I loved the Brasilian influence in Portugal especially on the music scene. One of my new favorite songs is Trem Das Onze, a Brazilian samba classic of 1964, which I heard performed many times as I walked to school in the morning. A song that is about parting and leaving behind something and/or someone most desired, perhaps needed, because of timing. A song which I feel characterizes my departure from Portugal so well. 

I enjoyed and appreciated the time I spent alone, reflecting and absorbing Portugal’s beauty. I thought one Saturday evening, while I sat on the rocks at Azarujinha beach watching the sunset, “Time is surely passing but, I am consoled by the fact that I’m living it. That life is not just passing me by.”  My heart felt in Portugal. 

                                                                Azarujinha, Estoril

Finally, on my way to the airport my uber driver, a sweet older Portuguese man shared with me a little bit of his own lived experience, which he summed up in this: “Life is too short. Don’t spend it complaining and don’t ever rush anything. Take your time, let things unravel naturally.” And so like the swallow I keep moving forward to uncharted territory not having many expectations just knowing it’ll be one heck of an experience. Timing is everything they say, and for now I say farewell but, not goodbye, because I shall return. 

Porto, Portugal↣↣↣↣ः