Sunday, 26 July 2015

How much does your pay cheque define you?

Disclaimer: I am writing this filled with anger and have not written down facts and numbers, so this is an opinion-and-feelings filled text.


While on honeymoon in the awesome Azores, my husband and I did some canyoning with a random family of 5; a mum and her 4 kids. I fell immediately in love with this adventurous family, who seemed to be having a great holiday out in the Azores. As we absailed, climbed, crawled and jumped off cliffs we got to chat and find out about each other.


As a Portuguese person, an early thought I had was ‘Wow, they must be well off to travel this far on a long holiday and do all these adventures’. Well, if they were Portuguese, they probably would have to be. Mum could be a doctor, and the older kids would be doing a law degree or something like that. But this Swiss family was different: the older kids were studying; one will soon be a florist and the other an electro-technician. As for the mum, she works in a restaurant. How the…?! Never in a dream would that be possible in my sad old Portugal. I feel entitled to talk like this because I am Portuguese, I have spent most of my life in Portugal and I experienced the pressure of ‘you must get a degree in something that will give you access to a well paid aka good job’, which is the equivalent of virtually forcing all teenagers to spend (and often waste) 5 years in university studying something they have limited interest in.

When I was doing my initial degree to become a primary teacher (which I was lucky enough to be in wild love with and is definitely what I was built for), I ended up writing papers for a colleague who wasted those four years of his life. Nearly 15 years later he is finally pursuing his passion and interest. An area in which he is very creative and competent: carpentry. It is sad that he had to waste a lot of money on university tuition fees and even more importantly than money, that he had to waste 6 years of his life because he had been driven to believe that that was the only way forward, if he wanted to do better than his parents had done before him.


I have nothing against university and learning, very much the contrary. I believe in education, but in a broader way. I believe that every single profession matters: if your job is to lay cobblestones on the road, I expect your job to be done properly so people can drive safely. If your job is cleaning, I expect it to be done in detail, so places are actually clean. If you are a doctor, I expect you to know your science well and treat your patients as human beings to whom their health is an important foundation. This said, I expect every working person to be paid a dignified salary, not the joke Portuguese are paid when on a minimum wage. Not the joke Portuguese are paid in general, excluding the big masters at the top of the iceberg who have mismanaged and robbed for years.


I dream of a Portugal I suspect I will not live long enough to see, but hope will come true one day: a Portugal where your job does not label you, a Portugal where we all do our best at whatever the hell we do. A Portugal where we are not trying to outsmart someone and are not being outsmarted either.


Thursday, 15 May 2014

Lucky to be surrounded (close and far) by people who have hearts of gold and goodness to share. People who always see the bright side or at least learn from every hardship. To those who always see the cloud even when it's only in the forecasts or keep feeling sorry for themselves, as if the world owes anything to them, I hope one day you learn to see how blessed you also are.


Sortuda por estar rodeada (longe e perto) de pessoas com corações de ouro e cheios de bondade para partilhar. Gente que sempre vê o lado positivo ou pelo menos aprende com cada dificuldade. 'Aqueles que v'em sempre uma nuvem mesmo que esteja apenas nas previsões, ou que se sentem sempre uns desgraçados, espero que um dia aprendam a ver o quão abençoados são também.


Saturday, 6 October 2012

Rain

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzrUs08-SWs&noredirect=1

I wonder what you feel when you listen to this and you don't understand the lyrics. Understanding the language, the context, the winter, the images it portrays... is a bit too much.
So intense, beautiful and painful.

Tuesday, 3 April 2012

Pokhara, Nepal


the Pokharan sky is tumbling down right now. true tropical downpour.

the last time I felt this earthly smell I was living in the Amazonian jungle. My feet would always be red as it rained every day and the ground was red like fire. that’s where the painted toe nails came from, so despite being muddy most of the time, my feet would always have gloriously colourful toe nails. I still haven’t abandoned the habit of painting my toenails.

the white dust is now being washed off the surfaces, highlighting the vibrant colours that cote each and every object in this country. not that I know the entire country. i spent some days in Kathmandu, having borrowed a rikshaw and taken the “driver” for a ride between Thamel and Kathmandu Durbar Square. At first he was scared, hopping off the rikshaw every time I rode close to a bicycle, motorbike, cow, passer-by, van or taxi. As you can imagine, the road was hectic and very busy, with moving people and objects in every possible direction, so the man eventually calmed down and I think he actually enjoyed the ride.

Anyhow, Nepal is not Kathmandu, so I moved east on a local tourist bus. Headed to beautiful Pokhara and went on a 3 day road trip with Johnny, a real star-boi. If I was a sensible person, I would not have gone, as both him and his best friend told me it was a trip they loved doing, but it was seriously hard core, due to the roads/trails. but sensible is not who I am, rather sensitive to great opportunities and therefore I had to seize the moment and hop onto the bike!

It was my first trip on a bike and wow, how impressive! The sceneries were fascinating at every turn. The time coincided with a big Hindu festival in Muktinath, so the road was quite busy with buses, jeeps and motorbikes, not to mention the poor trekkers. Two days later, I still have a bit of a cough, from all the dust; I cannot imagine what it feels like to be walking up a steep hill while you eat dust… I was literally chewing dust even though I had a scarf tightly wrapped around my head and a helmet too.

but then the view is so awe inspiring, one can only smile at it and be amazed at the power of nature.

at the end of the first night we stopped in Lete and bathed in the hot springs. not as picturesque as I would have imagined it, as the natural springs have now been surrounded by grey cement and stone, but really felt great on the tired body. I also loved the fact that most of the people using the baths were local. They are holy springs, by the way.

And with holy thoughts I leave you, in search of some veggie momos for lunch!
Here's a random bunch of photos. More when I get home.
One love
 
some lovin' & cuddlin'

it's cool down here, didi (sistah)

lots of suspended bridges

fishing by the bridge

World Peace Pagoda

snow... brr

the red beauty that took us

random gorgeous village
me and my PIC, as happy as dusty, back home and safe!


Thursday, 24 November 2011

X Marks the Spot

And the spot is definitely Kopinang. The most amazing village I have been to in Guyana. Why?

An Orange is an Orange and an orange is Orange
Oranges and tangerines are actually orange and as juicy as drinking juice right out of the fruit itself. This as opposed to the green and dry fruits we get around the rest of the country.

Initiative
People are getting out there and working hard for the improvement of their lives. I saw an active PTA (Parent/Teacher Association) fixing the school's roof and building extra latrines around the school, with money they had fundraised and/or invested themselves.

The School Feeding Programme is a World Bank funded project that provides a hot meal a day for every child in the hinterland schools which applied for this programme. It's more of a match funding project and the WB is preparing to pull out next year from reports I heard. Does this mean children will stop getting a hot meal every day? Yes, in most cases, I'm afraid. Certainly not the case at Kopinang Primary School. The committee has everything sorted out or underway.






Some good old play a day keeps the doctor away
Kopinang Creek aka the shower aka the playground
Ignoring the fact that I was fascinated by the idea of having a toilet, a shower and a kitchen with running water, I was so delighted by the rocky creek just below the house, that I ended up never using the shower.

Every morning I'd go for a bath in the creek and most of the days children would be swimming, paddling up and downstream in their miniature canoes, before heading out to school.

One of the many things I've learned in this wonderful country is how important it is to slow down. Back at home, children are rushed out of bed early in the morning after a late night watching TV, playing video games or facebooking, whereas here (and mainly in remote areas, due to the non existence of electricity) children go to bed early, which means they get up naturally with the sunrise and end up having time to play, bathe and have fun before going to school.

If at home I used to try to beat my "up and out" record, having made it in 30 minutes, minimum time (this is from the moment the alarm rings to the moment you put your foot out of the door), here in Guyana it takes me about three hours. Yeah, not one, not two, but three!

How shocked are you, dear friends from home? And I suppose you're wondering what on Earth might I do during that time. Easy: I go for a jog or a walk, have a shower, do my laundry, eat a slow breakfast and read for fun.

So, here's to slowing down and savouring each moment!



View From the Classroom


Kopinang Primary School


The Kopinang Airstrip
Our Transpee


72 steps to Ms Daisy's house - it's just like being in a fairy tale!


Pretty church!


Is this a cute bridge or what?

Friday, 11 November 2011

W is for Washing Line

This was my washing line in Kopinang, North Pakaraimas, Potaro/Siparuni. Living and loving in Guyana for two years has made me a very resourceful woman, and that gives me points in the marriage market, doesn’t it, CB?




Wednesday, 12 October 2011

S is for sundays


Sundays are normally slower anywhere in the world,  aren't they? Well in Mahdia things never get too slow, thanks to the  flow of miners who've just done a wash down and are looking for places  to spend their money.

A  good Sunday normally involves crepes with melted cheese shared with the  neighbours for breakfast and a cricket match in the afternoon.

The weather has been extremely dry here and therefore the water tanks are almost empty so we’ve struggled a bit with water.

Nonetheless, a powerful cloud landed right above Campbelltown (Amerindian village in Mahdia) in the early afternoon, as everyone was getting ready for the cricket match. So… we sat, drank some cool beers and waited, while the kids played football in the cool rain. Nothing like a Sunday lime!



The shower was strong and fast, so the match still took place. I tried out some batting before the game… and ouch how heavy was that bat?! Especially after having made 3 cakes for a birthday boy. Girly arms I have! *shrugs shoulders*


 Is there anything as glorious and contagious as a child’s laughter?  (unless it’s excessive hyperactivity!) I love my Mahdian babies!


 

Sun coming down... let's hide from the mosquitoes!