La tranquilitá! (why I fell in love with Italia #3).

Photo taken by a kid in the Center where I'm a volunteer. 

FIRST: please play this song while you read. It is called "Salvation of Forli" (the city I live in, yes!). Listen. Grazie!

With this text I'll be heading to some deep introspective master yoda sh*t, but I couldn't care less.

As cheesy as it may sound, I found a new me doing my volunteer experience.

I have to confess that first this was scaring me, because I started to feel something really physical, like something new inside my chest whenever I thought about my life here (like my Center, the kids, etc). I felt this kind of calming emptiness, of no turbulence. 

It sounds crazy. And probably I won't be able to explain it to someone who didn't lived it.

But I have proofs. So I was feeling this tranquility, this inner peace, so strange to me, and I wasn't sure if this was showing up to other people around me. Of course that the people that I've met here (at work, at home) didn't knew me before this, so I wasn't expecting of them to notice something.

But then, after coming here to visit me, my mamma did the first comment on how different I was... for something better.

However, the biggest change came (I felt it) after I wen to Portugal in March. Here I am in the cliché territory again, but it was like I was reborn with the Spring (time of rebirth and inspiration)! My sister had an accident at that time and she was really bad, she couldn't move, etc. And I decided to stay there a bit more to be by her side. Stronger as she is, she recovered fast and she did the very first step (again) when I was still there taking her hand.

And while she was still continuing to learn how to walk again (not only metaphorly speaking), she came to Italia to visit Roma and Firenze with me.

How is this important to my experience here?

Let me tell you something. I'm not religious. I wasn't. I still ain't. But during the last months I came to the conclusion that I was being driven by a Force, something strange that I couldn't explain. What I felt most was that I was being protected by... something. 

And in the end, in the last months of my Servizio Volontario, everything started to make sense.

When I took my sister to see the Duomo in Firenze I ended up in tears. Of joy, of accomplishing something that I truly wanted to do. This thing was booked way before she had the incident, and contrary to what everything was pointing us, there we were!

Then I continued on my experience, loving my work as a volunteer, loving the Educational Center, loving the kids, loving my trips around Italia.

LOVE became indeed a strong and powerful word that started to be my company every single day.

Then I had to make a video to the It Gets Better Project, talking about how I suffered bullying, how I survived it and how I could inspire young people to live through it (this project fights against homophobic bullying). Again... How does it enter in my experience here?

Everything, inside and outside my Project here, became a part of my journey. I learned that. So, I did that video. And a friend, who is in Portugal, someone that I haven’t seen for more than a year, saw it and immediately commented with me: “Fi… you are so calm, so peaceful, so different”.

So… when I read this I had the ultimate proof that this is something that is now very visible and not only some crazy thing that I imagined. It is so powerful that through a video that has nothing to do with my life here (directly) I showed everything that changed inside (and out) of me.

I never felt this. For real. I don’t want to write too much now, because it’s too difficult trying not to seem arrogant saying this things. But try to thing about how is possible that in a video talking about suffering I managed to (without really wanting to) show so much inner peace?

But let me just say that I found myself making peace with some details (and people) from my past. Alone! In an ordinary day, while I was cooking my meal, I found myself thinking about something that had hurt me a long time ago, leaving me with anger, and here I was thinking of how anger would not lead me anywhere. I came to the conclusion that some emotions can only do you damage (I knew this before, but not in this pratical way of LETTING GO!). So... Time and distance. And this thing of being a volunteer, of working everyday with kids that need your positive energy, your care, your friendship. It’s the answer. Working with people that have bigger problems than you. I think, yes, that is a strong answer to everything! And of course, learning how to live with so much little (money, let's say) also changes your way of viewing everything. 

I told you. This is some deep thing that is not easy to express. But I found myself being able to completely relax in my moments alone, I learned how to love the silence; even when I got lost in Slovenia or when a man tried to pickpocket me in broad daylight here in Italia. There I was... so serene. So strange, let me tell you! But so not worried.

So I will end this text with only two more things.

First, the way Italians work (not only in my Center, because I talked about this with other volunteers, from other cities, etc)… well it is a really relaxed way. Comparing to the stressful work I was doing in Portugal, this is amazing. Really amazing to see, believe me! We used to joke that in our countries they make you work for 3 persons while in Italia they make 3 persons do the work of 1. This way of doing things, of facing problems, was a true inspiring thing that led me to this state of… tranquilità. No doubts! 

Second. It happened today. I’m kind of in charge of a really troubled kid right now. I can’t give so much detail. But he’s not easy. Sometimes he can be violent. Today he was entering in one of that crisis, starting to trouble everyone around. So I just did my part, not knowing at all what I was supposed to do, but I searched in my heart. Because yes!   And so I told him “Look… in less than 1 month, I’m going to Portugal, and seeing you like this isn’t a memory that I want to take with me”.

He started crying. He started talking. Truthfully talking about what he didn’t like about being there, etc, etc. The point is: I have no formation to be a professional in these things. I have only the experience. I tried. It worked.  In the end I know that he will continue to be problematic, that tomorrow we will have more work to do. But today it made my day. It made him, at least, being able to express himself.

We continued talking, really peaceful, relaxed, so close to each other (in terms of speaking), that one of the other kids came to me and out of nowhere asked:

“Is he your brother?” (I guess that our 'friendship' was showing)

And I just said “Nooooo, lucky me!”. And we laughed together. And I did it, I made him laugh. 

For a second he was smilling kindly. And this is one of the memories that I will want to remember after I go home. Through all my life, in moments of sadness (because they happen), I will have this piece of heartful memory to keep me moving forward.

After all of this, I can only feel peace, serenity and harmony deep inside. And this is the simple answer to so many questions. 

The Jedi Code.

Why I fell in love with Italia #2: La diversitá!

A part of Italia. 

         It’s kind of ironic that one of my favorite things in Italia is something that most of Italians despise (you don't have an idea of the things I've heard in people fighting over regioni).

         I’m talking about… la diversitá! The diversity… in terms of culture and habits.

       In fact the difference between north, center and south (let’s divide it this way) is so big that in the first moments you can just find it strange, but you’ll need to travel more through the country to see how profound it really is.

        I’m not saying this because someone told me, but because I saw it with my own eyes. I lived it. I know, I know. Even in Portugal we have differences from north to south. I guess we have it in every country. But Italia is a really big country (even bigger when compared to Portugal). So it is not so strange to find such diverse ways of thinking and acting. For example, people from south regions tend to be more open and friendly immediately. They just talk to you as if you were friends for a long time. This doesn’t mean that people from north regions are not nice. Because they are! But in the first impact they are more quiet and reserved. It’s like they’re acting with guidelines from a “How to be polite” book, when southerners are more like explosive and not caring so much about it. It’s obvious that I’m dealing with some general ideas here… and not every people acts the same way! From different perspectives, both can be lovely. Depends on you too. What I can say is that in every region I’ve been, in every situation that I needed help, every italiano that I’ve asked something... decided to help me in his own way. So – this one is for you italians – you are a really, really nice people. I have to take a bow! Especially to that old lady that helped me here in Forlì in my first weeks when my bike basket fell down with all my supermarket shopping. She automatically came to help me. <3 Sorry but I had to say this. Grazie, grazie, grazie!

Trieste (left) and Napoli (right). Can you spot the differences?

Let's continue! The way they eat, the language, the way they express themselves, the geography, the architecture, colors, tastes. It’s all so different, really, that I could write an entire book on that. It’s like: you can take all the diversity in Portugal and multiply it per 50x.

                Historical this can be explained easily. Portugal is a country with more or less 9 centuries of union (as Portugal itself, let’s say), while Italia is really young in comparison. Only 150 years (approximately) since the country became the united Italia. Not so long ago, they were still fighting each other over power (in a Game of Thrones style...), divided within the republics (or city-state) of Firenze, Venezia, Milano, etc… and also in a war with the Pope (yes, I read that Machiavelli book, ok?). Sooo… they still have a long way to travel if they want to reach our point of… unity. But… should they change?

                I think not. Apart from some political parties that want to win independency over regions (!), I find this awesome! This is a cultural treasure. From art to architecture, from a way of doing pizza to a musical style, it’s amazing to travel to cities like Trieste (north) and Napoli (south) and find them so diverse from each other. In a way that it makes you keep thinking on how can you love so much, at the same time, such different realities. 

A foto of Forlì, just because I love my city! 

Lost in Slovenia

At least I got to see this breathtaking view!

So... I was in Trieste (Italia), which is really close to Slovenia. Let me just say this: first I was the Chosen One to a volunteering project in Slovenia… but I went dark side and refused it, because I really wanted to go to Italia. But being there so close to this country led me to think that I could escape quickly and do it a visit. So I searched for a bus. 45 min to arrive at Koper (a beach town). 6,60€ andata e ritorno (roundtrip). And I was like “Wow, so easy! I’m totally going”. I just had to seat my sweet portuguese ass and wait to step out in Koper. This trip alone, at least, was being completely normal.

But Sleeping Beauty here decided to take a nap in the bus… and being so tired... woke up three stops later… in Lucija.

I went to talk to the driver and kindly asked if the same bus was going back. Now imagine. I don’t know a single word in sloveno. He didn’t spoke English… and only knew a really bad italiano, so our conversation was kind of not a conversation and he rudely told me that I had to take a taxi if I wanted to go back.  And I just did my “Do I look rich?” face and stayed there in Lucija... before finishing my trip in Croatia. The thing is… I wasn’t even worried. Because I saw a map near the stop. But of course… I also saw the sea and decided to totally ignore the map to go put my feet in the freshwater, to do some photos and to take a caffé. Why not? I needed energy. Don’t ask me why but I was completely relaxed, even when I was looking to an Hotel outdoor and saying out loud to myself: “Maybe I will have to sleep in the beach tonight, cause I don’t have money to pay for this”. The good part? I go to see 3 different places... paying just for one. Bang bang!

Yes! I woke up like this. [ Lucija ]

But then I had a good idea (sometimes this happens). Maybe this small town had some connection to Koper and so I decided to look back for the map. I saw where the bus station was and started walking under the hot hot hot sun. I walked and walked and finally reached the station. The next bus to Koper was indeed parting… NOW!

Of course no one there knew how to speak english or italiano. But I managed to speak and ask the driver for directions. Body gestural language is the best, believe me!

Heading to Koper, passing by the amaziiiiing town of Izola, I started to think how calm I was… how one year ago (lets say) I would be panicking so much with this. But there I was, laughing alone, writing the adventures on my diary, certain that my Voluntary Service experience taught me a lot about not being afraid. And about being crazy too! 

Slovenia!

And I arrived to Koper. The next thing would be to search for a bus to go Trieste, but not without walking first around the town. Not without buying a postcard first. Not without going to the sea again to refresh myself.

But I knew that I had to go back to Italia, so in the end I asked a lady to give me directions to the bus station (because the other bus letft me in the beach). Again the gestural language was our idiom. And yeah, I got lost searching for the station, but after a while I got there… to find the tickets office closed. How the f*ck was I supposed to buy my ticket ? No ticket machines. Niente! The desert. 

There was a lady working there, but she was working for the trains, not bus. And she couldn’t sell me a ticket. At least this one was speaking fluent italiano and told me to try to buy the ticket online using my phone. The station had wi-fi. But a really bad wi-fi and so I wasn’t able to anything and after 1 hour of trying I quit and decided to go out waiting for the bus under the red sun.

Maybe I will have to sleep on the floor, but first le me take a seflie [Koper - Slovenia ].

A taxi driver saw me there and started to talk to me in sloveno (HELP!). I said that I was italiano di Trieste (I never taught of me as portuguese in this moments!! It's really scary, believe me!!). And then, trying to speak italiano, he started to scream and shout that for 30€ we would take me there. I refused. I think this one at least was legal, but I’m not 100% sure. And yeah… after a while I started considering that as an option to return, even if I would have to sell a kidney for that. 

The bus arrived. This driver was also rude, refusing to sell me the ticket. This one was italiano (Madonna!!!). And I kindly said that like that I would have to sleep on the floor that night... and he just gave me a f*ckin ticket. Really?!

Going back to Italia I was so happy seeing the views from the top of the mountains that we climbed to cross the border. The sea so vast and calm. Like me. Me, the luckiest bastard alive.

Why I fell in love with Italia #1: LA LINGUA

It’s the Final Countdown serving as a volunteer for Europe. It’s my last month in questo maledetto paese that made me fall in love since the very beginning. So I’ll start new posts trying to explain why I have this grande amore for Italia. Starting with… La lingua! [ Italian and english sound so great mixed ]

First let me say this. As a portuguese I always thought that learning and understanding italiano would be much easier. And... it was not so difficult (let's say comparing to someone who comes from Russia for example). In the end italiano it's so similar to portuguese in terms of writing but at the same time sooooooo different in the way it sounds. 

Italiano is in fact one of the most beautiful languages in the world… if not the most beautiful of all! I realized that during my life here.

When Italians talk, they don’t speak, they sing. For real! We portuguese speak with closed sounds, but they really use all of the mouth… really open! Like… amazing! At the beginning it’s strange for you, but then you start to see how they articulate every sound, doing some pauses in the same word just to highlight a letter. For example when they say “Morena” (with only one N) they say it quick, but when they say “Ravenna” (with two N) they say it slower… almost with a musical pace. I think they don’t even think about these things. But imagine me discovering a new language and paying attention to every little detail.

Mariano Di Vaio... because... he speaks italiano. :P

Another thing. Everyone knows that the ragazzi italiani have a great fame abroad. But let me say this. Obviously they don’t look all like Mariano Di Vaio, so how do they manage to have this notorious fame? It’s in the way they speak, for sure. How can you end a relationship with a ragazzo that calls you amore mio with all that swing? How can you not fall in love when a ragazzo comes and calls you bella (or bello!) with such passionate sounds involving such simple words?

I’m not joking. One day, after a first kind of a date, a ragazzo said this to me “Sei molto carino!” (like: You are really cute) and he’s voice was so powerful and musical that I thought he wanted to marry me. I got so scared that we never talked again. Oh yeah… so it’s possible to resist it. I’m the proof. I'm always the proof when things go the wrong way.

Anyway… I’m talking about the “general” italiano, because they have so many variations, so many dialects, that it would be impossible to cover all of them (Thank you Dante!!). Believe me. They have a dialect for every region, every city, every neighborhood. I’m pretty sure that only in my street there are 2 or 3 different versions of italiano. Starting with my Italiano - the Portuguese remix feat. Giusy Ferreri.

To end this.

Italians sound lovely even when they are angry. Arrabbiati!

When they're sad they sound even more touching. Tristezza!

They sound lovely in every sound. That’s it. E basta! 

I will Dolce Vita

I remember being in Portugal - the day before flying to Italia - closed in my room listening to this in repeat for like 1 hour. "So I just packed my baggage... said goodbye to family and friends. And took the road to nowhere on my own." The lyrics were on point.

And I had never really listened to this song before.

Now... 9 months after, this came up. And it's so strange that I realized that I took this lyrics really to the heart and I'm even more gypsy now. I'm travelling alone a lot, taking illegal taxis and other stuff like that (and I will do something new very soon, just wait and see!). My mamma is always saying that I'm a little gypsy, always moving, always finding other places to call home. And I don't know exactly why but listening to this now made all my sadness of leaving Italia go away. Magical! It all makes so much sense now. <3 

And I could be here for hours talking about how Lady Gaga is half italian (like me now!) and how the songs "Born This Way" and "Donatella" gained a new meaning during my life here, but I'll leave it to another day. I just want you to stop a second and think about many things in our journey that are never happening out of nowhere.

"Sometimes a story has no end, 'cause I'm a wandering man' - he said to me."

[ review ] Veloce come il vento - Italian Race

Everyone knows that I don't like those Fast and Furious movies. So when I sat yesterday to watch this movie about racing cars I was like "hmm yeah ok". But then I was blown away by a movie full of everything that lacks in those: good acting, good writing and a powerful, strong, emotional message about a destroyed family. 

I defy you not to cry while watching the story of Giulia De Martino and her two brothers. The big one is a drug addict and the other is just a kid lost in the world, without a mother, without a father. So little and already learning how hard life is.

Inspired by a true story (I only knew this after watching), this film brings you the tale of a girl doing everyhing to win the Campionato GT in Italia, in order not to lose her house (if she looses, the house goes, in form of payment, to the only sponsor that financiated her races). To complicate even more the situation, after her father's dead, her brother Loris returns home to stay, bringing drugs and problems. But together they will find a way of making everything right...

Also with joyful moments, followed by powerful perfomances, this movie defys everything you know about the cinema italiano, bringing the way you see it to another level. And at the same moment showing that the european cinema is alive and way more functional than those blockbusters that America is producing every year (sorry but I had to say it!).

Veloce come il vento is not perfect. The ending could be better, indeed, in terms of closure. But you will not forget the face of Giulia so soon after you watch it. And it is now in fact one of my favorite italians movies... ever!

Napoli - Ti amo terrone!

ENGLISH:

Let's speak the truth. Napoli is not the most beautiful city in Italia. But it is the one that struck me the most. In a way, Napoli reminded of the old Lisboa. I was walking around small streets at 2am and I wouldn't find it strange if some fado suddenly started playing. Why? Because this is one of the most problematic cities of Italy. Its people is struggling to get a job... to get a life. And when they talk, between them, to you, for themselves, you can hear all the heart and soul of the most touching place I've been in my whole life. 

Castel dell'ovo e napolitanos a fazerem banhos dentro das suas muralhas. 

This text was written during my first staying in the city, but now I've updated it. 

"Napoli is not a city that you can photograph. It is the kids playing football in the night in front of the Duomo, really equipped, as if it was a stadium. It's all the corners where you find altars to the Madonna, MARADONA and Jesus with... bright neon lights.  It's the taxi drivers playing with a ball beetween the cars in the main square. And the lady from the second floor shopping from the downstairs market with a rope and a plastic bucket through the window. It's getting lost on small streets to find kids - 12 years max - driving a vespa at full speed. And then it's praying for your life while many scooters come and go down the via. It's the chaos, the trash. And the colours of someone selling fish in a street to the historic center. It's not the touristic Italia, not your standard Europe. It's a city in a country where it doesn't fit anymore. And that makes it unique. The city where people go to swim, to fish and to sail a boat inside an ancient historical castle. Maybe this is the true Italia! Napoli is the terraza of one fancy bar, where a client is doing drugs really relaxed. It's the dealer who wants to sell you dreams while you go down the street in a hot summer night in March! It's the boy who helps you to go in the metro without paying, even if you didn't ask for it. It's the old lady, standing at the window, starting to talk 'cause you're taking a picture of the Madonna in the wall. And she speaks proudly about the image, as if it was the Coliseum at her door. It's all the people who meet in the street SCREAMING a buongiorno! And it's the prostitutes having a fight in front of your hostel. And the boy that stops you in the middle of the piazza just to tell you he has a child and no job, because he doesn't want to work for the Mafia; being surprised when you explain that you're not italian. It's the way he touches you in the face to tell "Bello! You look like a vero italiano!".

And it's the true smile that you get many times after these moments. 

The guy in the reception told me "Napoli is a very dangerous city, indeed." - making a dramatic pause - "It is very romantic. You can fall in love."

And he was absolutely right. I fell in love. And I will never ever be able to explain veramente perché."

PORTUGUÊS:

Vamos dizer a verdade. Napoli não é a cidade mais bonita de Itália. Mas é aquela que me impressionou e tocou mais. De certa forma, Nápoles lembrou-me da velha Lisboa. Eu andava a passear por pequenas ruelas às duas da madrugada e não acharia estranho se de repente ouvisse os acordes de algum fado. Perché? Porque é uma das cidades mais problemáticas de Itália. O seus habitantes têm dificuldade em conseguir um trabalho... uma vida. Mas sobrevivem. E quando eles falam, entre si, para ti, para si próprios, tu consegues ouvir todo o coração e alma de um dos locais mais tocantes onde estive em toda a minha vida.  

Panteão. Épico!

Este texto foi escrito no comboio de volta na primeira vez em que estive na cidade. E estas palavras saíram-me enquanto lágrimas de... saudade... corriam.

Nápoles não é uma cidade que tu possas fotografar. É o grupo de miúdos a jogar futebol à noite em frente ao Duomo, realmente equipados, como se se tratasse de um estádio. E é todas as esquinas onde podes encontrar altares à Nossa Senhora, ao Maradona e a Jesus... com brilhantes luzes neon a enfeitar. Nápoles é encontrares taxistas a jogar com uma bola entre os carros na praça principal. E é a senhora do segundo andar a fazer compras do mercado lá em baixo na rua com uma corda e um balde de plástico pendurados pela janela. É perderes-te em pequenas ruas para encontrares crianças, de 12 anos no máximo, a conduzirem uma vespa a toda a velocidade. E depois é rezares pela tua vida enquanto muitas scooters vêm e vão pela via abaixo. 
É o caos, o lixo. E as cores de alguém a vender peixe numa rua que te conduz ao centro histórico. Não é a Itália turística, não é o teu standard de Europa. Mas a cidade onde as pessoas vão nadar, pescar e navegar num barco dentro de um velho castelo. Talvez esta seja a verdadeira Itália! Nápoles é a esplanada de um bar chique, onde um cliente fuma droga realmente relaxado. É o traficante que quer vender-te sonhos enquanto caminhas rua abaixo numa quente noite de Verão... em Março! É o rapaz que te ajuda a entrar no metro sem pagares, mesmo sem que o tenhas pedido. E uma velhota, à janela, que começa a falar contigo porque tu estás a tirar uma fotografia da Madonna (Nossa Senhora) na parede da sua casa. E é esta a falar orgulhosamente da imagem, como se fosse o Coliseu à sua porta. Nápoles são todas as pessoas que se encontram na rua e GRITAM um buongiorno. E são as duas prostitutas a terem uma discussão territorial em frente ao teu Hostel. E o rapaz que te pára no meio de uma piazza para te contar que tem um filho e não tem um emprego, porque não quer trabalhar para a Máfia, mostrando-se surpreso quando explicas que não és italiano. E é a forma como ele te toca na face ao dizer-te "Bello! Pareces um vero italiano!". E é o sorriso verdadeiro que ganhas muitas vezes depois destes momentos. 
O senhor na recepção quando fiz o check-in disse-me "Napoli é uma cidade muito perigosa, de facto." - fazendo uma pausa dramática - "Ela é muito romântica. Podes apaixonar-te."

E ele tinha absoluta razão. Apaixonei-me e nunca conseguirei explicar veramente perché. 

Castel dell'ovo e napolitanos a fazerem banhos dentro das suas muralhas.