Track:
Son
Artist:
Warpaint
Album:
Warpaint

The song that made the journey in India calmer and real. Something I took with me from my usual life in Portugal, that helped me in my long bus and train trips on that immense country, and in my hard to fall asleep burning nights.

India of my dreams

Back home. Back to the place where I was born and where I grew up. I should feel warm, secure, relaxed. So why am I so anxious and worried?

I don’t want to get into an all depressive speech but it is a fact that this country doesn’t seem more at my eyes than sad. I tell you what happened in the airport in London. I had to wait a few hours sitting in the airport, as you can imagine a lot of people passed by me and it was hard when I realized that I was no longer in that warm country called India. I was in a strong yellow skirt and wearing slippers, contrasting with all the rest, in black winter clothes. The faces perfectly perfect, no sweat and a lot of make-up, as well as they had the hair in cared hairstyles. No one gives a look back, no one sees anyone. Not a word, not a smile, not a wink, nothing. Between all the dark moving bodies I started to see color, to see a floor made of yellow dust, orange turbans, tanned tummies, sparkling sarees and floating scarves. I noticed that those people don’t really seem like people, they are far from that, the way they act, the way they walk. I had forgotten these minds, what they think and care about, they are disguised, they are so far… Far from their roots, from their real needs, from the animal they are and this breaks me in the inside. What makes me nervous is this society, full of manners and prejudice, where people are so full of themselves and already forgot the meaning of help.

Of course I can’t generalize and that this state of spirit as to do with a lot of personal issues such as the uncertainty of the future, a thesis to do, a job to find. Also, it is true that Portugal is a good country, clean, safe, beautiful and the people, though their peculiarity of being “labregos” they can be a pretty funny people.

But there… there you only need to exist, everything comes to you. You are in the world, no need to keep searching for it. No fear. As I realized when I reflected about religion in a previous post, you only need to believe, believe in whatever you want. No harm will come to you on that country/world of trust and faith if you decide so.

Plus, when you go out is when you are free from all the social context limitations and influences and when you can discover more about yourself and be able to go further, on your tastes, on your skills, on your adventures and independence.

Part of me is now on the other side of the Earth and it ain’t easy. It is hard when home is not only in one place, when it is in Portugal, Turkey and India, when we can’t have the people we love at a distance of a cab. Half of me is now empty in an empty place and I miss that one where I only used to see beauty, where I was in love with everything and with everyone.

Last day of my first job. It was hard to let go my kids. Hugs, laughs and tears. A lot of learnings, a lot of new experiences.

And the most unlikely thing happened: it rained, as in every Bollywood happy ending.

Thank you AIESEC, thank you RSM International School.

Indian food :3

Indian food :3

Kochi e Alleppey, Kerala.

Alleppey, Kerala. Backwaters.

Goa II.

Goa.

being alone is being with the whole

Nunca me tinha passado pela cabeça a possibilidade de estar na Índia aos 22 anos. Muito menos me tinha cruzado no pensamento a ideia de vir a viver alguma vez na Índia; se viesse seria, com certeza, durante um mês, só para passar umas feriazinhas. É claro que vir sozinha seria impensável… num país, tão grande, diferente e pouco cómodo para as mulheres… Mas, bem… mesmo que, por maior dos acasos, a vida me trouxesse para a Índia nunca me aventuraria a viajar por este gigante país fora sozinha. A verdade é que conhecemos muito pouco de nós mesmos e daquilo que somos capazes.

Dia 4 de Outubro de 2014 (bloco de notas): O que farias se estivesses sozinha, numa estação de autocarros, com ratos a passar de um lado para o outro por baixo da banca onde acabaste de pedir um pão com manteiga, numa cidade completamente aleatória da Índia que não fazes ideia de como localizar no mapa, de noite, à espera há cinco horas de um autocarro que deveria ser proibido andar durante mais de 30 minutos, com assentos mesmo muito pequenos e rijos, que te vai levar durante 17 horas ao teu tão desejado destino, onde não tens nada nem ninguém à tua espera?

Dez dias e mais de 71 horas de caminho. Porquê sair da zona de conforto, quando até se está a recuperar de uma sinusite um tanto ou quanto complicada, contra as vozes tendenciosas para me deixar ficar em casa (indiana), e viajar tantas horas em direcção ao desconhecido? Não faço ideia mas mais uma vez a grande lição se aplica: ir, somente. Nada te espera e tu nada esperas. No entanto, no fim, nada podia estar melhor planeado e todos os amigos estiveram lá.

 Isto tudo para dizer que ir sem companhia não é sinónimo de andar sozinho e que ir sem um objectivo concreto não é sinónimo de não ter significado. A diferença é que tudo se vai encontrando no caminho, de forma inesperada, fascinante e, sem dúvida, especial. Viajar sozinho, é viajar com tudo e todos à nossa volta. É estar-se livre para se fazer o que se quiser, para caminhar numa rua sozinho e no virar da esquina já se ter criado uma boa amizade, para se pôr o pé na rua decidida a comprar souvenirs e afinal ir dar uma volta de mota pelos sítios mais belos. É claro que nem tudo são rosas mas a recompensa é grande!

MCLEOD GANJ/BUGSO/DHARAMKOT, Himachal Pradesh