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Home at last
June 27, 2009

What a journey it is to cross the Atlantic Ocean. Airplanes make travelling easier and faster but I feel worlds away from Portugal now.

Bad airplane food, expensive drinks, fast food, loud Americans all welcomed me back to the land of plenty. I’m in America – the new world. It is a fast, clean society that focuses too much on work and too little on people.

I’m dazed and confused being back here. Of course everything is familiar and comfortable. It is nice to know exactly how to speak and move about while I’m out among the public. It’s so easy and I can do it all on my own. I’m glad for the new (but short-lived, I’m sure) perspective travel has given me. My house seems bigger and cleaner. My movements feel assured. My relationships with friends are truly appreciated. My American life overall seems more interesting than it ordinarily does. But being here contrasts so sharply with Portugal that it is difficult to even really consider one life while living in the other.

I woke up early this morning due to the difference in time. The first thing I did was call Quinta da Mata to check on the kids. Filinto answered the phone and we spoke a little bit. This was a first time occurrence for he and I. Speaking Portuguese on the phone has been challenging for me over the years as I’m unable to use body language to support my poorly pronounced words. We finished our genial exchange and then Filinto passed the phone to Geninha. Suddenly I couldn’t speak at all. This time my inability to speak was due to my feelings of longing. Upon hearing her voice, my eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t make the words squeeze through the tightening of my throat. I miss them.

I went out for an early morning run today and even this challenged me culturally a little bit. When I run it Portugal I head out to run among a culture who views me as an oddity. They see an athletic woman wearing a baseball cap and shorts running through their community. I am the only person who does this, I am certain. There are not other woman runners who run pass their houses or who run pass the shepherds and their sheep on the mountain. To make things more interesting for the people I pass, I always call out “Bom Dia!” (good morning). This is the typical greeting Portuguese exchange anytime before lunch. I am very adamant about this greeting as I want them to relax when they see me and I want to be familiar those people I see regulary. Today on my run I passed a number of people out for morning exercise and over and over again I called out “Bom Dia!” I could not change my greeting as it has been programmed so well into my head. The people I passed were a little puzzled but less so than those whom I pass in Chaves, I’m sure.

I could go on and on with all of the small things I’m marveling over – for better or for worse. Here are a few…

My dog is INSIDE the house with me.
Our tap water tastes really bad.
I can take a shower instead of a bath.
No one is staring at me while I grocery shop.
Food is expensive.
I don’t have any desire to eat American food. I may starve until Duarte gets home.
I have the freedom to open my computer without imposing on anyone.
It’s humid here.
The roads are all made of asphalt - which is much smoother but less interesting than granite roads.
I have my own cell phone.
I can talk and listen and express myself.
I loved catching up with my friend yesterday. She helped me process a little of what I experienced. It’s not healthy to live without friends.
I was able to get a haircut today and explain in detail to the best hairdresser in the world what I wanted to have done. He understood me.
There is not a swimming pool in my back yard.
Air conditioning feels artificial and cold.
There is not enough (or any) wine in my body.
I miss soup and olives.
I don’t have to hug or kiss anyone I greet.
I have time to myself.
I have to cook, clean and work.
I have more than 4 outfits from which to choose my clothes.
The dollar is worth a dollar.
I’m not full….but I’m really hungry.
I went to bed at 9:00 p.m. last night.
There are no church bells.
I need an espresso and there are none of any quality that I’m aware of in State College.
My shoes do not have animal poop on them.

Part of my heart was left behind in Portugal. It hurts.