The Results Are in

This photo has nothing to do with anything but how cute is that cheeky little bird hanging out on my leg! I’m like freaking Cinderella.

Five hours went by between the time I arrived at and the time I finally left the room where I took my final exams this morning. After the ordeal was over, the president of the panel gave me the results in front of the 7-member jury and the additional instructor who was in charge of the sound system. I failed.

There had already been a “burial” song by the second test, when the theme to “The Godfather” started blasting from an instructor’s cell phone. Very professional…

I’m really grateful for the support I’ve received from friends and strangers. I’ve never failed at something so important before and though I know that passing rates for interpreting courses are low (around 30%) and that this all means I‘ll have to work harder next time, I’m still bummed out that I’m not among the good ones right now. 

I came home hoping to stuff my disappointed face with some Portuguese dessert but the sweet cake has been invaded by ants. Little bastards. Whatever. At least I can start packing to return home to my dear Amsterdam. For now I’m going to relax my grip on life’s horns a little, taking comfort and pride in something that a jury member, the head of a EU interpreting department, said to me: “You have courage. That’s very important in this profession.”

Well, we might lose a battle but that doesn’t mean the war is over. There is no other way.

So bottoms up to courage!

Just Some Photos from Lisbon

Before the oven. Fresh sardines!!!

After the oven (I guess it tasted way better than it looked)

Pastéis de nata for dessert

Carcavelos Beach

Along the Tagus River

Sitting by the Tagus River

Taking a Break

Hello dear reader,

All is well and I hope all is well with you. Following dreams takes a lot of energy; I’m not rich or lucky, I just work my ass off. And after some stressful month-long traveling through three countries – and getting sick along the way – I am tired. Therefore I’m going to take a break lest I post cranky notes, and for now I’m off Facebook too. If I’ve something quick and fun to write about I’ll post otherwise I gots lots to study, lots to rest and some beach volleyball to plays.

You take care!

Till next time  :)

Little Things in Lisbon

There are certain simple things, little things, that bring us joy. A trip to Fiji might be wonderful but we can find wonder every day in our lives, wherever we are. As much as I bitch about Lisbon, there are certain things I enjoy here.

Tram 28

The capacity for this small tram is 58 people, though on a warm day there will be more tourists than this standing in line at any given downtown stop. So chances are you’ll be crammed in there, in a mass of people sloshing around as the tram turns impossible corners to make its way down impossibly narrow streets. There is always a car too close to the rails so the conductor always has to ring the bell, a cute, polite dring dring dring out of 1928.

I use my unlimited transportation pass to hop on the 28 just for a ride, watching amazed tourists with smiles on their faces, as if they were kids again, going for a ride on a little carnival train for the first time. The Portuguese who ride the 28 tend to be jollier than those in the metro, too, and during day rides there’s always a Northern European tourist to brighten this lady’s day.

The metro to the airport

Conference interpreting is very stressful and there are days when I leave class a bit dazed. I would normally walk home to relax but the pollution in Lisbon is really bad and after a few minutes I feel like I’m ingesting handfuls of cancer. Going to a cafe would be nice but I’m on a student budget so I just hop on the metro and ride up to the airport then ride back home for a change of scenery.

Well, this did start because I disliked Lisbon so much that I would ride to the airport just to make sure it was still there, lest I be stuck in Lisbon forever, but then it was just nice getting some exercise going up and down stairs while breathing decent air, and I got to read some, too. Not to mention more Northern European tourists…

Arriving in Belem

Walking along the Tagus

A train goes from Cais do Sodre to Belem, where a wide, long cobblestone walkway runs right along the Tagus river. Tourists, families with children, elderly fishermen, couples – on a warm day all sorts of people are there, strolling along, sitting for a cup of coffee, sitting to watch the sailboats on the river. It’s lovely going there for a walk or a run on a sunny day.

Portuguese Seniors

The other day, I was walking up the street to the bottom of the 55 steps that lead up to my building when I noticed a typical elderly Portuguese couple standing halfway up the steps, by the empty lot. The man was wearing one of those Portuguese caps and the lady’s hair was perfectly coiffed. Behind the fence to the lot was a desperate cat who apparently couldn’t find its way out and the Portuguese couple were trying to help the cat, asking it if it wanted to get out. I started chuckling.

I always keep an ear open if I see a typical Portuguese couple by the supermarket’s meat counter. They chat with the butcher and they always utter some funny expressions. The funniest thing is that nobody laughs, it’s just normal conversation, so I just keep a big smile on my face.

My neighbor and his cat

You might experience the other things but this is my personal little thing. Two men in their 30′s live downstairs from me with their orange cat and their backyard is right under my tiny balcony so I can hear everything they say. Every other afternoon I’ll hear one of the men trying to convince the cat of something, usually of eating. The guy talks to the cat as if it were his girlfriend and as if he were trying to explain to her how her behavior is irrational. How could she not want to eat? “Come heeeere…” he pleads with the cat. “Meow…” goes the cat.

Two Nerds Walk into a Bar…

I hereby declare “to nerd” a verb. “I am nerding,” as in “I’m studying a lot and I don’t really have a life, and when I do talk to people I start asking them about their take on the latest common agricultural policy proposal.” Seriously. So I was happy – and sad – when a friend in Lisbon messaged me the other day. “I’m looking for a fellow nerd to go for a drink. I haven’t left my house in days and I’m going crazy!” Poor thing. Like me, my friend is a nerd; she’s a post-doc in biotech working on the thesis she has to hand in by July.

That evening I happily met my friend in a cozy bar where a lovely jazz band played and I ordered myself a glass of white wine, served in a glass that hadn’t seen soap after it had been emptied of its last contents, red wine. I glanced at the document my friend had been studying and saw Greek letters above and below lines and square root signs; formulas that calculated who knows what. My friend said, “Can you imagine! I’ve been studying these formulas for days without even leaving my room – all I ever do is get up from my desk and go to the kitchen to eat.” Oh yes, I could imagine.

We agreed that our nerding is a temporary and worthwhile sacrifice; we will finish our courses in a few months, two knowledgeable women with new careers ahead – or at least that’s true for my friend, as sometimes I think I might finish my course with a brain so tired that I’ll just go sit on a beach and sell coconuts, which really isn’t a bad idea, I’ve already looked into it. It’s been tough for me to balance all the plates as they spin atop wobbly sticks: studying, proper sleep, studying, eating properly, social life, studying, exercising, money issues like everyone else, and a little more studying.

But by the end of that evening I was very happy for my friend and I, and for our nerdiness.* With International Women’s Day coming up, I sized us up when I remembered how I used to feel about nerd-dom and I thought of all the girls and women who feel, as I used to, that women must decide between being beautiful and being educated, as if the two were mutually exclusive, which they absolutely are not.

And that evening with my friend I couldn’t help but think of Brazilian women since my friend is Brazilian and I’m, well, sort of one, and I remembered that Brazilians never really have had much trouble reconciling “crazy hot legs” (I’m flattered, anonymous photo tagger!) with Master and PhD degrees. In Brazil flaunting one’s physical assets doesn’t seem to be a choice over flaunting one’s brain assets. I had forgotten about this aspect of my root culture and all I knew till not too long ago was that in the US I was made fun of for wanting to learn. Generalizations? Were US and Brazilian cultures so different? Does it mean anything that Brazil has a female president who also happens to be divorced? How do women in other cultures feel? How much alcohol was in that wine? Should I stop drinking and writing?

—–

Today I decided to write about all this because it’s International Women’s Day and I especially want to reach out to all the lady nerds out there who believe we must choose between brains and beauty. First of all, women are inherently beautiful! Let’s embrace our womanhood and appreciate our curves. And having brains is an option only insofar as we need to actively choose to learn because nobody is born knowledgeable. I’m not super smart but feeling good as a woman shouldn’t stop me from trying to be…

For all the jokes I make about my nerdiness, I’m not for a second unhappy about it but to the contrary, I love it! You see, lady nerds can choose to shake out our hair and put on some heels and go have some wine to catch up on US-EU trade relations while checking out hot men, we can discuss the ethical repercussions of cloning and chat about gorgeous men. Or shoes. Or economics. Or baking. We can choose.

Finally, ladies, the curves of our bodies inspired one of the most influential modern architects in the world, the late Oscar Niemeyer (who happened to be Brazilian, by the way. And I must say that I visited his museum in Rio de Janeiro and the curves of our thighs are looking pretty good on the roof!). All jokes aside, let’s also be inspired by the curves in our brains.

A toast to all you lady nerds!

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*And that’s another word I’ve invented, at least I think so. It really should be in the dictionary anyway.

Life is a Mirror

Beauty can be in the eye of the beer-holder but that’s for another post! And that’s a beer caipirinha, btw.

If I were to say I’m not enjoying the weather in Lisbon I’d be deceiving you. While friends ice skated along the canals of my lovely Amsterdam I sat in the sun in a tank top in Lisbon. While friends shoveled their cars from under one meter of snow in the Northeast of the USA, I strolled along the beach at night wearing a Spring coat, near Lisbon. And though it is true that heating in Portuguese homes is completely crap, a hot water bottle a friend sent me is keeping me warm at night. So not too terrible.

“Busy” is my middle name these days and my mind is constantly found in Economics-ville. I’m pulling a carriage uphill here with all this studying so I have no time to deal with any annoyances (though I wonder about this post…). So to make it through my remaining four months in Lisbon I’ve decided to take the advice of other expats: forget the locals, hang out with other expats. I must say the advice’s implementation is working out pretty well and from what I can tell I’m part of a majority who doesn’t exactly love the locals.

In any case I’ve realized something: our view of the world is a reflection of what we look like inside, in fact, generally when my insides look like a few pints of Belgian beer things look great! But I’m not even talking about beer goggles here: there will always be a douchebag pushing you in the subway (like the old lady who shoved me onto other passengers the other day, I mean, really!) or a jackass cutting your line (like the entire populations of Spain, Paris, Brazil and Italy at least) or just the French being French (though I keep meeting exceptions, yay!). And sure this is all annoying but we can decide to let it consume us or we can let it go and the latter is a most wonderful feeling! Oh, yes, it is!

Let’s examine an example: I used to stress a lot about people in the subways. After all, subways are the second biggest source of irritation in urban life, according to imaginary statistics that help me make a point. Ever wonder why there are so many rich people in NYC? It’s because they just couldn’t stand the subway anymore so they got rich simply to avoid taking the darn subway. The Lisbon locals who ride the subway all seem like they’re on the thing for the first time, acting like every stop and every subway that comes by are the last of all time and there’s a fire right behind us all!

This was getting on my nerves big time and I think the reason we all let such petty things get to us is that we aren’t really looking at them, we are looking at our own fears and hurts and whatever other negative things. We’re annoyed at the mirror we’re looking at – which isn’t to say that people won’t continue to annoy us, it’s just that we can let it go more easily when we realize this. So the other day it hit me that I’m working hard towards achieving an ambitious goal so all these petty things became insignificant, at best funny at times. Now when some local dumbass is trying to do the whole Latin “I’m better than you so I get to race just ahead of you on your left and then turn right” I might grumble or shake my head but I remember that I need to focus my energy elsewhere: on achieving goals. There will always be dumbasses, there will always be some envious girl trying to upstage me – what I can do is stay away from them, let them live their little lives.

To top it off, these people will always contribute with ugliness to the world so it’s better for everyone (especially me!) if I cut down on the ugliness inside and increase my inner-beauty contribution. I’m convinced that the world can only be beautiful if we can reflect our inner beauty onto it.

Vive la France!

Morning in the mountains

To improve my French and to improve my ability to concentrate I went to do HelpX on a farm in Southern France. An American psycho, some firewood picking and a stressed-out host later, I found myself couchsurfing my way back to Marseille, liking French people and thinking of Lisbon as home for the first time ever. There’s a lot to tell but I’ll have to keep it to a summary.

HelpX is a site where property owners offer room and board to people willing to work some four hours daily. I was (at first, anyway) lucky to be in contact with an American couchsurfer living in Marseille, who let me tag along on an assignment in Southwest France. I flew to Marseille and we drove together to the farm near Mount Bugarach, a place many believed to be the pick up spot for the spaceship that was to rescue folks from December 21st, 2012, a.k.a. the end of the world. Things were dandy at the farm until I had to inform the couchsurfer that I wasn’t in fact romantically interested in him, at which point the dude turned into a complete psycho, chasing me around the house and forcing my bedroom door open, to mention a couple of exciting events (ironically he’s left me a negative reference on couchsurfing stating I robbed him and warning people to stay away from me, among other things. The irony…).

Mount Bugarach, the spaceship’s pick up spot

To my relief – and to that everyone else on the farm – the psycho left, but he’d been the only one who spoke French all the time, even if not that well. Still, l needed to improve my concentration so I stayed on the farm a couple of weeks helping with the animals, cleaning and collecting infinite quantities of firewood. I got to practice quite a bit of Dutch with the host, who surprisingly was very stressed out – I think it’s the computer use, I’ve noticed it in myself too. Oh, and there was lots of French wine!

But my French! Well, I had to get on the road and find me some French couchsurfing hosts in France. First stop, cold Carcassonne, by way of the 1 euro bus/train offered in the region. My couchsurfing hosts were some super very really nice French people – yes, I just used “nice” and “French” right next to each other! This, my dear readers, ain’t no Paris I’m talking about (more about me and Paris: 1, 2, 3). One evening I asked one of the guys where the bakery was so I could get fresh French bread and pain-au-chocolat but I woke up the next morning to find he’d already gone out in the freezing cold and gotten me the treats! Oh, Southern French men… Then one of the girls just happened to be driving towards my next stop and she gave me a ride, declining my offer to contribute to gas. Ah, Southern French women…

Then I had a wonderful host in Narbonne who made me feel like I was visiting an old-time friend, and next a carpool to Aix-en-Provence, where I’d meet more nice French couchsurfers and eat more wonderful French bread – though I must say that Paris wins the prize for best croissants.

Donkeys!!!

The kindness of the people along the way was heart-warming. French people, Iranian people, Dutch people, Portuguese people, other people – I was humbled by their generosity. Turns out people will be people, for better or for worse. I accepted the rides and dinners and didn’t insist on paying when people declined my offers during this trip, not for a lack of gratitude but because I accepted it all as good karma. I’ve been in their shoes before and now that I am a budget-conscious student I was grateful for it all.

A couple days before my trip was over I was ready to return to Lisbon to sleep in my bed and live in my little corner – I wanted to go home. Back in Lisbon I confused my friends when I updated my Facebook status to “Home.” “Amsterdam?” they wanted to know, since I refer only to Amsterdam as home. Well, there are at least two types of homes: according to Metallica, “where I lay my head is home,” and according to something I heard somewhere, “home is where the heart is.” It doesn’t matter. Thanks to everyone for their kindness. Now, if we can all just be kind to one another everywhere…

Snow in Aix-en-Provence on the opening weekend of Marseille (and region) as European capital of culture 2013