SPAIN AGAIN, FOR A CHANGE - MUSING ON TRAVELLING, MADRID CULTURAL MARATHON AND MORE

MOVE - It's one of my strongest peremptory needs, if I sit still for too long I get anxious, and confined spaces drive me nuts. This need became evident when I read "Anatomy of Restlessness" by Bruce Chatwin, back in 2000. I understood then that travelling is like an inner call that natural born nomads have to follow in order to keep being themselves. Johnny Walker, keep walking! Even at work I need space, big windows, light, to see the sky and when possible trees to feel comfortable. I started taking lunch walks back in 2006 in Canada, half an hour is for eating, the other half is for moving, walking dramatically improves my well being.

On the other hand I also need a change of landscape, air, language, from time to time, it's like breaking up habits keeps my brain alive, and gives me a sense of freedom. At the same time big metropolitan centers also make me feel uncomfortable, caught between stone or concrete surfaces. I am less and less attracted by the idea of travelling to a city, may that be as fascinating as Berlin or Paris. Besides, they started being so similar, packed with hordes of tourists, crossed by metro lines, filled with Irish pubs, French bakeries and Italian fake restaurants next to horrible fast food or so called gourmet coffee chains. All big cities have a cathedral, national museums and world famous landmarks. I long for wide horizons, green meadows, thick forests and majestic snow capped mountains, surrounding small historical towns or picturesque villages. All with a bit of quiet and solitude, although it's already been said you can't feel lonelier than in the middle of crowds.

So having to take a week off by the beginning of spring I left aside the hypothesis of Amsterdam, Brussels, Lyon or Florence and decided to go to the closest cheapest flight destination: Madrid. Not only it's a big city, but I'm not even fond of it like I am of New York, Paris, Rome or more recently London. I am fond of its liveliness and mix of cultures though and only during this fifth or sixth visit I started to internalize its structure and subtleties, finding my favourite corners. Some of its best features are being reasonably close to Lisboa and playing host to great temporary exhibitions plus a good cultural alternative scene. Last but not least, quite a few friends call it a home and it's nice to see them after wandering all day by myself. Although being by myself didn't mean that I didn't talk to unknown people in the hostel or on the street. It's nice to enjoy all that time and temptations without having to please anyone else and be able to talk to someone around if you feel like, madrileños are quite social and easy going.




I wonder if during any of my former trips I was ever so conscious about how madly I can run all day covering kilometers, with very few and short stops, even to eat or sit down a bit. Why on Earth do I have so much physical energy to spend? Each evening would find me exhausted with my head busting with impressions and memories of the day. I didn't even count the number of exhibitions I visited and I was even scared of my hunger to see and learn more. On every trip I keep learning also about myself and my way of being in the world. At the same time I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was also a form of escapism, of running away from my life. So putting this now on paper helps me saving something, giving it a sense.

Since the first day a friend took me to La Tabacalera former cigarette factory, now a cultural centre, and inspired me to take more abstract photos. I started looking around in a different way for the whole week. The way that objects are placed in an exhibition and how people deal with it. Putting out of the context certain parts and play with them. Then there were the social photographs at Caixa Forum, quite an amazing contemporary building . Photographs taken around the less charming nowadays Spain, portraits of guerrilleras from San Salvador or Afghan refugees in Greece next to heartbreaking images of refugees all over the world, especially from Africa and Middle East (Syria and Iraq) with their most prized possession since they left home with very little, could be a buzuk (music instrument), bracelets, a cane, a donkey, whatever gave them comfort on the way.

Later I got enchanted by the amazingly bright rainbow like paintings of Raoul Dufy who wanted to render light through colour, followed by the disquiet harmony and subtle anxiety of Paul Delvaux, both provoking the eyes and the mind in diferent ways.

In between exhibitions I managed to fall in love with the Malasaña and Lavapiés colourful and kind of irreverent neighbourhoods, with the alternative shops and eateries of the first and the multicultural flavour of the second, especially the Mercado de San Fernando and the UNED library that used to be a church.

And when my mind was really crying for some green and some peace I walked along the Manzanares river green path and went to discover also Casa de Campo and Campo del Moro parks.






I couldn't resist paying another visit to Bosch, Goya, Ribera, my Museo del Prado favourites and I also discovered the history of Madrid in the city museum, quite interesting as it explored both its architecture and the social fabric of its inhabitants, customs and habits. Walking into yet another free cultural centre: Casa Encendida, I got acquainted to Colombian Suarez Londoño and his masterful sketch books drawings.

Just before taking the plane, and while looking desperately for a mailbox for my postcards, I managed to find time for the insightful Giacometti exhibition dedicated to the look: El hombre que mira, completed by very inspiring quotes on eye perception of the human body. I was very touched by an apparently simple drawing: an eye looking at a tree, that for me became suddenly the symbol of the wonder of spring.

And to top all this, I went twice to the theatre, as I managed to get a ticket, unbelievably, for Robert Lepage's "Needles and Opium", he's one of my favourite directors hailing from my former home Québec. Then it was an alternative play loosely based on "Fuenteovejuna" by Lope de Vega, that was actually quite weak, although the actors were making quite an effort.


When did I see my friends then? Well, some for lunch and a walk, some for dinner, for a tea, night drinks or an exhibition, or even host me for a couple of nights. It felt great and refreshing to see them and I guess I'll return to Madrid sooner than two years this time.

DAILY ROAD TO HAPPINESS

Some years ago I was musing here on happiness and how elusive it is. I think that for the last two years I came closer and closer to its essence, after going through more work and romance related disappointments.  Serenity/inner peace is my main goal, fulfillment rather than comfort zone.  It's not about forcing your brain to think positive no matter what, it's about not judging and labeling positive and negative, understanding that only our perception of facts makes them one or the other thing. There's no good and bad weather, only pleasant and unpleasant, which is pretty subjective, according to our comfort zone.

Tavira Island, Algarve, South of Portugal

I'm trying to take life as it comes, understanding that there's only yin and yang, principles that complete each other, perception and lessons to be learned, ignorant and frightened people that hurt others because they don't love themselves. At work, on the street, during our social interactions, they are everywhere, moved by loneliness and repressed or misinterpreted emotions.

We talk a lot about people charged with negative energy, that drain us out of our own positive charge. The other day I was thinking that there are no positive or negative energies, only flowing and blocked ones, balance and imbalance. And of course that people who don't know how to unblock theirs would run to cheerful persons awkwardly trying to recharge themselves. I also become an energy vampire when I get obsessed with my own troubles, unable to hear the others, talking and talking and talking relentlessly. Brrr, what a drag!

At least I learned that my sources of energy could also be the outdoors, things I can make and do (cooking, swimming, dancing, hiking), tasty healthy food, or simply thinking and surrendering to the moment while being outside, also known as meditation. Observing all little things around us that make life joyful, like the cheerful supermarket cashier and kind drugstore employee that I met tonight, people that we mistake for vending machines a lot of times. Other great sources of joy and inner balance are my lonely walks, my time on the beach and the embrace of the rather cool Atlantic waters; I really don't need much more. 

How good it is to realize that I do live a comfortable life in a pleasant country, with mostly nice weather, beautiful landscapes, good yummy food, kind people, where I managed to make great international friends as usual, that teach me valuable lessons and help me become a better person. Now I just have to move my sexy ass and figure out how to do something valuable for this great place called world.

TWO TO TANGO, BUT KEEPING THE BALANCE

Reminder to myself.


This is part of a message that I wrote a couple of a years ago. I was answering someone that I met in Paris who thought I was not playful enough because I refused to become his temporary lover:

"In this roller coaster called life the only thing that really matters to me it's my freedom, body and soul.  

I wouldn't sacrifice one minute of it but for someone whom I trust and doesn't act impulsively. Love at first sight leads to whimsical actions, and I'm well over the period  "live for now, life is short, then we'll see".  I want to have a real home and feel sheltered.  I lived on two different continents and on the Caribbean sea, without counting the months I spent in Portugal, Turkey or Uruguay, I lived fully and had all kinds of experiences, bitter and sweet. I am looking for serenity, stability, the calm of an active, balanced life. No drama, no fools' games and without having anything to hide from anyone.  

I am strong but fragile, and if I don't take care of myself, no one would, this is what is expected from a woman who made it alone and in shape at 37, that she could take all the blows and keep standing."


Why did I forget about it by the end of last year?

DEEP DOWN TO THE SURFACE (EMOTIONAL SELF KNOWLEDGE AND HEALING)

No matter how clearly someone tells and shows us that "you+me = over", we cling to it until we go through our own cycle and filters of understanding. Situations aren't good or bad, they're just pleasant or unpleasant, according to our perception/feelings, it's up to us to play our cards and learn the lessons. We all act according to the film in our mind, inside our own bubble. So when we get in trouble, the fault is mostly ours, as we act based on our "reading".

After 39 years and a few failed relationship tentatives I finally understood the way my emotions work and how do I sabotage myself. I should be actually grateful to the person who triggered this series of revelations, for helping me out in my life journey. Helping me to make one more mistake and finally dig it to the roots.

Several other people helped me out through it. One of my best friends gave me a spirituality book, that she never read, where I found my first explanatory paragraphs:

"Sometimes when we meet somebody new we start to feel emotion that do not belong to us.We might feel a great desire to please the other, to give yourself beyond measure, spend all your time with that person. This is due to the great need the other has to receive, he/she is asking for it very intensely, but without words.

In these cases appear questions like "Why am I feeling this?". The person may get to imagine that she/he's experiencing a big love, in fact she/he's only receiving all the neurosis of the other person. In these cases we get to channel the anger, the sadness, the desolation or the anxiety of the people we are in contact with. This is more certain when our emotions are not logical or related with the events in our life. [...]

The problem becomes apparent when you start to lose your balance (axis). You start to realise what is happening or to feel uncomfortable emotions. It may feel like a type of acceleration or exhaustion. We have to remember that our physical body always sends us two basic messages: comfortable or uncomfortable. According to its message we can realise if we are involved in a favourable energy exchange or not." (Horacio Valsecia, Argentina, "Los siete principios de la felicidad")

It was not the first time when somebody agitated and passionate crossed my way when I wasn't looking, when I was well and at peace with myself and the world, and turned my emotional life upside down. When it happens I start to cry very easily and become kind of neurotic as soon as my chevalier loses his initial interest, becoming moody and distant. Somehow I guess those men I met took me like some kind of prize, to fill the gap of their insecurities and confirm their virility: "if I can have this woman, then I'm an Alpha male" kind of thinking, or not even thinking, some kind of gut feeling.  And then things happen without a closer look to the circumstances, my position and my feelings.Probably also because I look cool and confident, and not like a drama queen or whining bitch. Well, sometimes I am a true drama queen, but not at first sight, and mostly avoiding to do it in front of the men in cause. I did enact some soap opera scenes in the past though:)

Getting back to my point, after reading that paragraph, I realised that I probably absorbed Mr. X's need of being loved, fears and other negative feelings that were developed meanwhile, due to an excessive workload and his need to control everything. My fault resides in going with his initial flow, the wave of enthusiasm, without keeping up my barriers, just surrendering to the moment. The passion, the nice dates, his courtesy and also practicality. I felt desired and protected, and at the same time he awoke in me passion and tenderness.

Just like with other guys in the past, realism (mixed with worry and depression) took over his enthusiasm when the family and worldly obligations claimed exclusive attention and effort after the holidays, when I was out at home. Then it was the realm of the uncertain: we'll just be friends for now and we'll see later on. Then communication became scarcer and scarcer, culminating with two weeks of no kind of contact whatsoever. In January I started being the one generating the dates and it all ended up in a big confusion, aka break because I felt emotionally drained and abused. I went through some serious crying quite a few times and felt abandoned and shattered, as sometimes silence is worse than a clear cut response: "Denying emotional responses to another is deeply abusive.  The “silent treatment” is a cruel way of controlling people and situations.  Where there is control there is no love, only fear."  I kept it to myself and my friends so I won't increase his amount of work stress, worsened by the gray and rainy weather. He would seem very touched about me looking for him and showing up, telling me at the same time that he doesn't want to be in a relationship, maybe because he's not over his latest one, that ended up about 9 months ago. We can always find reasons. It's hard to understand when there's attraction, a good feeling about being together, and apparent compatibility. What's missing is the wish to commit.

At some point not long ago this book of Horacio Valsecia that I mentioned above came to me. When reading it I suddenly had a image if myself as an emotional sponge, absorbing other's states of soul and moods. My mother made me feel this too, because she tends to whine a lot. Looking up the net I discovered that the expression actually exists, it's also defined as an "empath". So Mr. X's depression, restlessness, suppressed anger, etc. were probably reflected by me. When I was close to him and he wasn't ok I felt very uncomfortable and deeply emotional without knowing why. So after all I decided to walk away, at least as a temporary break, because it seemed like he doesn't know what he wants and I need to focus on other things, myself coming first, and stop bothering him. Because I did bother him, with me becoming also a needy, love&attention hungered person. And he was obviously troubled by it and the incapacity to give me what I needed/wanted/pretended.

Photo by Ilia Alexandrovich Jerebtsov - Nov. 9, 2013

I have to admit that I have strong emotional responses to all kind of situations, and I tend to overreact. At the same time, when somebody is creating expectations, then is withdrawing, but not completely, and gives you contradictory verbal and emotional responses, it takes a lot of nerve to resist it. The bottom line is that I'm taking it with a grain of salt, as a way to self-knowledge and self-acceptance. Now I know how to respond and treat better my emotions, and how to prevent others from damaging me.

These last weeks I felt better and better every day, enjoying the spring sun and fragrances, the blooming trees and three good dancing nights in a row, with Latin dances and tango. I was lucky enough to meet some visiting tangueros from Romania and Italy, who made me feel like I was flying through their embrace, comfortable about myself and my contact with them. It was very sensual, without a sexual connotation, just the type of report I deeply needed. This physical activity combined with my psychology reading really improved my thoughts, feelings and general state. I feel like I overcame the dark  neurotic period, becoming again the person I used to be, even wiser. Free to enjoy the spring and embrace my life.

LATER EDIT, AUGUST 10, 2014 / Falling into the same mind trap, I tried to see the fellow again after he showed up to a group event I organized, posterior to one month without any contact. But this time with me being totally available and consciously open for a possible relationship, that would imply taking time to know each other better. Total nonsense, there was still attraction, X was still aloof and although I didn't cry anymore I still ended up chasing him and feeling frustrated while trying to play cool.

We had another final explanation after 4 months of playing hide and seek;  he came up with almost identical arguments and firm on "I want to see you from time to time as a friend because I really like your energy, but this is it". To me this didn't sound like a friendship offer, but more like a superficial social contact. Well, sorry, no, I have real friends in my real life that have and make time for me. Friends are not circumstantial social connections, they take and offer help and support when needed. Mr. X looks like he doesn't know how to engage in the giving/receiving exchange. I felt like he's interested in keeping in touch because I look special, "interesting", not because he genuinely cares about me. But a lot of things I saw in X are also part of me: selfishness, ego-centrism, impulsiveness, stubbornness, no real will to change, being a control freak, judgmental, aloof, elusive, oscillating, inflexible, impatient, needy.

The day after we last met I found out accidentally that he was maybe seeing someone else when he started chasing me. And it got all mixed up while I was still on vacation in Romania, coming back on December 31.

I should have walked away from that swamp of confusion as soon as he told me that he's got mixed feelings, he basically almost opened the door for me to leave and I kept standing with one foot in and one foot out, looking at someone who wouldn't even see me. That was just one more story that started with fireworks and ended up going nowhere, and I refused to accept it, thinking that if I try hard enough, THIS TIME I CAN MAKE IT WORK. Well, no, it shouldn't have happened from the very beginning! History repeating is history repeating, it ended as it started.  I guess we have both shown some form of erratic behaviour. For the last seven months I went back and forth through the mourning stages of Denial, (mild) Anger, and Bargaining. I hope that now I finally got to Acceptance and to a better knowledge of myself. Well, closing one door means giving space to open another one.

PUTTING MY INNER DRAMA QUEEN TO SHAME

What we are looking for in life is peace of mind, although, paradoxically, sometimes we need a lot of adrenaline or duties to accomplish, so we can reach inner peace. Exploring, extreme sports, drugs, workaholism, all kinds of engagements that actually try to appease our longings and anxieties and bring tranquility. But also things that sometimes stop us from looking inside. We have all kind of different physical, intellectual and emotional needs that push us forward, sometimes in a neverending chain of demands. Many problems arise from not being able to tell what our needs actually are, where are they rooted and how can we actually satisfy them. Many problems have one single root: FEAR. Combined with insecurity as a matter of fact. If only we had enough FAITH, and TRUST ourselves and the surrounding energies, we would get rid of fear and be able to receive PEACE.

The more I live, the more I think life is a journey of self-discovery, of fulfilling oneself, finding out what are we best at and strive to do it. And also find out where do we make mistakes, so we can improve. I knew since very early that I have a good memory, a gift for languages, courage, stoicism, sense of humour, ability to network and connect people, etc. But during the last two years I found out many things about myself that belong to the second category: impatience, ego-centrism (tendency to keep talking about myself), impulsiveness, inability to focus, overwhelming energy. And last but not least: a need for strong emotions and their expression. To be brief, I discovered I'm such a drama queen, probably underneath I have a constant fear for my life going the wrong way or to be disapproved/disliked by other people. Fear of not getting enough attention, coming from ego-centrism and dependence on others.

The The  - Bluer than Midnight

It took me 39 years to find this out, not exactly a short journey. And after feeling miserable and crying many times, mostly because of too much imagination aka illusion, lack of connection to reality. My emotions, either connected to pleasure or pain, tend to be overwhelming and extremely open, what's called "à fleur de peau". On top of it, I'm extremely excitable from this point of view, it's easy and quick, and hard to get rid of. After my latest crisis I had to really sit down with myself and see what's wrong, so I stop being so vulnerable and ready to get hurt. Looking inside I found out a big need for deep exalted emotions of all kinds and expressing them. Need for drama, to put it straight, to feel things in a great way. So the the main cause is not the external stimulus that triggered that emotion, but a permanent availability to respond exaggeratedly. Well, I guess this can be solved by finding a different way of expression, like theatre or dance, perform my emotions instead of living them so deeply that I get damaged. On the other hand I have to overcome my dependence on others' affection and appreciation. Trust myself to be able to live without it, or with it, but to a lesser degree. Grow up, although it's so much easier to keep whining.

LIFE PATHS

After a very unsettled and worrisome 2013 (actually starting on March 25th when I got back to Lisbon from my travels and home visits) now it's time to nurture the relationships I made here so far, create new routines, then look for alternative ways of personal development now that I have a steadier base to start from. Last year was also a time to hold on to myself and my inner balance, in order to face the material uncertainties that have been harassing me.  I was lucky enough to meet people helped starting working on myself and who attracted my attention upon my ego-centrism and self-indulgence. All the encounters we make are opportunities to take a closer look at ourselves and try to grow into a better person.

I'm thinking about creating a new routine to myself, sit down once a week and consider what happened throughout those seven days, how did I behave towards others, my emotional and physical reactions, how did I perform under any kind of pressure, dealt with time and money and so on. Probably what triggered it is the critical thinking training I had to take at work, I thought about ways to use in my personal life.

As for today's musings, they turn around the act of giving and receiving. Generosity is not only about giving physical things to show the love: gifts, a place to crush when needed, lending money, treat people to dinner, smile to strangers  and so on. It's about taking the time to listen and to understand others' emotions, reactions, motivations, especially when we feel irritated or hurt by it. Many times I don't have patience when it comes to other people expressing themselves. And haven't tried hard enough to look for the subtle signs of expression when they are not obvious. Being so dependable on others and so emotionally vulnerable and responsive, I focus too much on what I feel and what I think. And with this new inner peace I found I guess it's time to move on and learn how to be more understanding, less overwhelming and demanding, either it comes to family, friends, co-workers or romantic interests. And BE there 100% when necessary, and not asking to be there when others are unavailable emotionally as well as physically. Learn to be more self-sufficient and open not only on the outside but also deep down inside.

OPENNESS

One year after being removed under obscure circumstances from my position with the Romanian Cultural Institute, here I am, still in Lisboa, trying to get a life, out of bits and pieces. As always I am surrounded by   multicultural friends, my international life-saving angels, and I just moved into a small flat that I can pay doing a sales admin job for a huge IT company. First time that I live alone since I came back to Europe four years ago. Entertaining the sweet illusion of a possible love story is just the fluffy cream on top, but fluffy creams get spoiled so easily, out of carelessness, lack of attention, heat or cold, so I try to take it with a grain of salt. This is the advantage of getting older and supposedly wiser. 

So now I can look back at this time in my life that was 2013. Oh, boy! What a sysyphic year 2013 was! Although I took two amazing trips, to Israel/Palestinian Territories and Peru, a country I couldn't help but fall in love with. It was doubly rewarding as I went there to attend a wedding of a dear German friend from Canada and meet our Swedish and Brazilian friends, all together for the same celebration in Lima. Only my mom fell horribly sick and got into the hospital the very same day I was hiking in Machu Picchu. The day after I went walking for 24 kilometers looking for a couple of weavers villages, just to calm down, filling my lungs with pure air and invoking the spirits of the Andes to give me strength so I can send it all to her. When she came out I went to Bucharest for ten days to cheer her up, and it looked like I managed. 

By the end of March I got back to Lisboa and started trying to build up a life of my own in the Atlantic garden that's Portugal. Nine long months of moving houses and cherishing vain hopes, delaying my departure week after week and month after month. I spent four of them working in a wine shop, a great opportunity to meet tourists from all over the place, make new friends and learn many things about local wines and spirits, especially Porto and Madeira. I can't say it was easy and the schedule was kind of heavy too, but it allowed me to spend the summer here without spending all my savings. I also experienced dating some Portuguese men, all together just a waste of time, although they seemed good on paper, they had high expectations, little patience and consideration, so I just gave up on it.

In October another wedding brought me back to my beloved Barcelona, where I was received with open arms and started seriously thinking to move back there by the beginning of 2014. Back in Lisbon I suddenly started to have job interviews. I moved four houses in one month while waiting for answers, feeling like a gypsy with my boxes, suitcase and various bags, I still wonder how much can I endure before I break. And after about six weeks the miracle happened and I landed a my actual job, found an acceptable flat downtown, overlooking a garden, and met someone who thought I was special and was hoping to become the same for me. But this is an ongoing wobbly story, and I'm quite eager to see the outcome myself. The interesting part is that everything came towards me, without me looking into that specific direction.

And now I cannot say that 2013 lacked charm and the joy of life. Thanks to my relatives, my friends, complete strangers who treated me gently and offered me moments of happiness and trust in the human beings. Thanks to this sunny country and the Atlantic who offered me its cool waters to refresh my burning thoughts. Thanks to the beautiful city of Lisboa, its colourful houses, cobbled streets, old fashioned manners and old looking shops, charming grocery stores and delicious food. It's true that I feel more at ease now, more confident, but I enjoyed being here nevertheless even during those hardships. 

Day after day I learned to enjoy my walks to work, the lunch break reading or listening to music and eating an ice-cream in one of the most spectacular squares I've ever seen: Praça do Comercio.

Be thankful for the flowers, the sun, the people that smiled to me. I realised that the only thing that could make me unhappy is the uncertainty about tomorrow. But I always had food, a roof and warmth around me, plus a little extra for life's little pleasures. I basically didn't miss a thing. I learned to be less dependable on comfort, if I ever was. 

Be OPEN and willing to enjoy anything enjoyable, and things will come to you.

SERENITY

The last few months (since April actually) have been hectic in terms of house and mood changes, mainly due to the job search, but I want this period to touch to an end before I write about it in detail.

Today I took a long walk by the sea, spending one hour sitting in the sun on some deserted rocks and reading from the Book of Psalms. Around me gathered some tiny birds making funny noises. I had one of my  happiness moments, filled with peace and the sensation that everything is perfect the way it is: the caressing warmth and light of the sun, the blue of the sea and the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks, the cute birds and the words in the book. 

During the last few weeks I was asked in a couple of job interviews what motivates me, what makes me wake up in the morning, and both times I answered it is the light of sun, the fact of being alive, a flower, the smile of a child, anything, really. And today there was a real epiphany, we are so affected by all the continuous CHANGES we go through, and try to cling to people, situations and objects, when the one thing that doesn't change is whatever is called CREATION: nature, people, animals. I would add art to it, art is to me the highest expression of the human aspiration to overcome its mortal condition. Every little beautiful detail we can observe and watch with love and care gives us a feeling of fulfillment, if only we were open and softhearted enough. Celebrate LIFE!

PERU - MINDBLOWING DIVERSITY AND HEARTMELTING HOSPITALITY (II Amazonia)

Between my arrival and the wedding I spent a few days, not enough, by far, in Iquitos and the selva amazonica. Just enough so I can get the taste of it, to miss it afterwards and long to go back. I picked Iquitos because of a Mario Vargas Llosa book I've read when I was a student: "Pantaleón y las visitadoras". Via Couchsurfing I got in touch with several possible hosts, finally one of them confirmed that he can receive me at his place. Another one said he can arrange for a less touristy stay in the selva, I imagined he would be my guide. That's all I had on the books when I got to the  small airport of the hot humid city of Iquitos, after an amazing plane ride, overlooking the most incredible mountainous landscapes, here there were snowy peaks getting through the clouds, there blue lakes among brownish green steep hills and valleys. Then we flew over the neverending Amazonian rainforest, like a sea of green, with rivers winding through it like roads in the fields. Actually the only way to reach Iquitos it's either by boat or by plane, the road won't take you that far, even to a city that's home to over 40,000 people. 

Outside a car waited for me with Ulises and David, most of the taxis though were moto rickshaws, traffic was crazy and the buses didn't have windows. I didn't understand what was going on until we got to Ulises' agency, Carrusel Tapira. Oops, instead of an independent tour I was to go on an organized one, which disappointed me really, but I didn't have much time to look for something else, and on the other hand they seemed to be really nice and knowledgeable, Ulises being the son of a Peruvian and a Brazilian from the other side of the Amazon, a true river creature. Besides, we were few, just three all together, with a Catalan and his Peruvian girlfriend. David got me a rickshaw to take me to my hosts and we agreed on leaving next morning. My Couchsurfing hosts, Pavel and Joanna, are two young Poles living in Iquitos, both kind, with beautiful smiles and amazing sparkling blue eyes. They have a small studio apartment, with cold water shower, a kitchenette and a half working fridge. After I invited them to a deliciously refreshing ceviche lunch accompanied by cocona fruit juice, they took me out to the Nanay river market, Bellavista. It was probably the most exotic I have ever seen so far, sporting grilled cayman and palm worms (suri), Amazonian chestnuts, unknown fish and fruits, turtle eggs and so on. I tasted the suri, it was somehow sweet, not unpleasant, but not fantastic either. The aguaje palm fruit is usually peeled and eaten with salt, or made into a refreshing juice. I also saw ubos and camu camu, besides the well know papaya and mangoes that smelled like heaven on earth.



We took a boat with a beautiful roof made of braided palm leaves to Padre Cocha, for a cool beer on a floating deck, where local were swimming sometimes fully dressed, I imagine it would keep your clothes cleaner a longer time.   







After a chocolate crepes dinner I left the next morning to my dream destination: la selva del Amazonas. Not on a raft like in Jules Verne's 800 lieues sur l'Amazone, but on a small passenger boat, with Ulises and my fellow travelers, Jordi from Catalunya and his Peruvian mountains lover, Denisse. After a couple of hours we arrived in a tiny place where Ulises went to buy food for our stay and we had to wait for the motorized canoe that was to take us to the lodge. While we were waiting I strolled through the quiet village, bought some aguajes  from a broad smile girl, some kind of corn cakes from a couple of schoolgirls and a few sapotes (a big sweet fruit with an orange pulp) to eat later. Being tall and Caucasian, with a Nikon in my hand and walking by myself, I couldn't do anything not to look exotic, so people looked at me with curiosity. It occurred to me that it would feel probably the same if I were in some remote Romanian village.    

The canoe came after about an hour or so and the seven of  us (Jordi, Denisse, Ulises, our cook, Delicia, her partner and handyman and their child) navigated for a while on the broad light brown Amazonas and then turned right on a smaller river that led us to the path heading to the lodge. We were handed botas de jebe/gum boots and went through mud, crossing some pools over shaking planks, under the amazingly high trees canopy, surrounded by the lush green forest and funny wild life sounds. The entrance to the clearing were stood our bungalows was framed by two majestic trees that I could only compare to a Gothic cathedral. The accommodation was not suited for the faint of heart and comfort lovers, there were two breezy typical huts, built on stilts to keep them above water and snakes, without electricity. Made of tree trunks, palm and banana leaves, a big open one was meant for eating and partying, the other, with full walls, for sleeping, cooking and a rainwater shower.

I spent there four exciting and at the same time quiet days, going to bed early and reading with the help of my pocket lamp, waking up within the first morning hours, trying to tell the different jungle sounds, birds, monkeys and God knows what else. Delicia honoured her name and prepared simple great food every single day, over a wood fire, from Amazonas sardines to sauteed noodles, even her rice was cooked to perfection. We had fresh fruit juices, sometimes from plants around the huts, like sugarcane and cocona.  



Raul took us around the surrounding selva, not too far in, during the say and during the night. It felt like walking in a strange cathedral, as the trees canopies were so high that they looked like massive pillars with huge roots sometimes, all surrounded by bush and entangled lianas. It made us feel small and fragile, exposed and vulnerable, but the guide's self assurance and calm helped us a good deal.




We discovered healing plants like the pichirina, good for the stomach, and monkey ladder (escalera de mono), good for sores and skin infections. We learned about parasite/strangler plants and admired their capacity to climb upon big trees up to the top in the search of light. Then we marveled at the many types of spiders and ants, the families of squirrel monkeys (saimiri type), the size of the snails or the enormous toads.

Probably the most impressive creatures were the tarantulas that didn't look that scary to me, but rather endearing, all fuzzy and rather quiet.

Advancing over water was a whole different story, especially through the flooded forest, four of us in one canoe, with the help of the machete. Quite spectacular and very Indiana Jones like.

And the amazement wouldn't stop here. We saw a beautiful boa strangling its prey, a vulnerable sloth (in Peru they call it pelejo), up in a tree. The sloths move very little and at a very slow pace because their diet made exclusively of leaves does not provide many nutrients, so they are "programmed" to spend very little energy. They are an easy prey for huge snakes then.

Apart from a small toucan we saw beautiful woven nests hanging from trees, belonging to colonies of oropendolas or paucars (yellow-rumped cacique), both sporting black and bright yellow colouring. Raul explained us that another feathered fellow, the cowbird, lays its eggs in the oropendolas nests, their chicks eating a harmful parasite fly and its larvae that would otherwise harm the host's chicks. A beautiful symbiosis example.

On the longest day we got to a hidden pond covered by huge Victoria Regia leaves (a type of waterlily), unfortunately only one of them was in bloom. Raul showed us how to fish by spear, another technique I saw only in Amazonia. On the way back we had to drag the boat through Raul's small village, Centro-America, set up by his grandfather,  to shorten the trip. One night we went searching for caimans and got caught by a tremendous rain (actually it was raining every single day, alternating with sun, and our clothes stayed kind of damp all the time). The night after Raul simply plunged his hands into the water, and after a short struggle he was holding a small caiman, we convinced him to throw it back in, he was thinking about taking it to the river next to the village. That simple. Those people lives look so adventurous to us, to them is just a hard daily routine, Raul had a scar on his face from a caiman's tail strike, the main danger when you try to catch one, he told us.

On the last day we paid a visit to Centro-America, tasted the local homemade alcohol, chuchurrin, and saw how people actually live, many times in houses that looked rather like verandas, with half built walls, cooking and sleeping in open spaces. It was also our only opportunity to see a dead piranha lying on a veranda. There were some small solar panels, rented by a company for an amount that  was ridiculous to us. They were enough to get a few hours of light at night time.  When the water floods the village during rain season, sometimes people have to look for shelter on the roofs. In 2012 the water flooded the living space and in Raul's bedroom they found catfish (doncella), boas and even electric eels. When we went there, beginning of February, there were hardly any ripe fruits, except lemons, and hundred lemons would just pay enough for them to get to Iquitos and back. Mangoes and papayas were not ripe yet. We understood that they actually live on a yucca, rice and fish diet most of the time, and cash is hard to get unless you work with tourists. Teachers at the local school only stay for a very short time before they return to the city.

So these few days were filled with teaching and learning, in many ways, sometimes just by looking around or observing people's attitude towards life. I never heard them complaining for instance, saying this is not the life they deserve. The lessons I learned are in Amazonia are, above all, to keep silent, to be patient and move in slow motion. It applies to observing wild life, but also to our everyday exchanges.

My peak moment was getting to swim in the actual Amazon, just meters away from gray and pink dolphins, they actually came closer as me and Jordi got into the water. It was more than I ever dared to dream. I would go back there any time, and I would chose to stay in the village, go to the natural park Pacaya Samiria or camping, not in a jungle freaking lodge!

WINDS OF CHANGE, THERE'S NO HOME BUT TRAVELING

Tel Aviv  - Yafo

My life simply doesn't want to stand still since I came back from Canada, almost three years ago. It twists and turns like a fish on dry sand, trying to reach back to the water. 

When I was working on cruiseships a  key phrase during emergency drills was "reach your final destination". On the ship it was easy, it meant a little square from where we were supposed to get on life boats or rafts.  But in life on solid ground it looks like my real final destination doesn't want to be found. I finished much less than gloriously my cultural promotion mission in Portugal, on the ground of dramatic political and administrative changes in my motherland. I can't call it homeland as I don't have a home for now, or, again, since I left Canada. Which is also arguable as my rent appartment felt like home, not the country per se. 

After spending Christmas in Bucharest with my beloved mother, sister and brother, plus some extended family members, I went to Israel to end up a conversation. It started in the Madrid subway with an Israeli song author, video-editor and aspiring writer, about a year before and we kept in touch only via Facebook, getting acquainted through our photographs, phrases, likes and dislikes. I decided to take up his invitation to visit a contrasting and controversial country. It was not meant to be a pilgrimage, but I didn't discard the idea of making it part of the whole experience. I was richly rewarded for this decision. I received so much love and positive energy during this trip that I can hardly describe how much it enlightened my mind and my soul.

I don't know if this is the Holy Land...all land is holy, as long as people don't spoil it with their changes. I felt amazingly in the desert, on the shore of the Kinneret Lake (Sea of Galilee) or in the Ein Gedi Park.

Lake Kinneret

Judean desert

And I met amazing people, that treated me with such effortless genuine kindness that I am still in awe, regardless of being Israeli or Palestinian,  religious or not, Christian, Jewish or Muslim . This trip above all restored my trust in the human race. Especially that I was in conflictive area, and I expected the inhabitants to be more nervous and impatient. It was a real life lesson, about the beauty of nature and the human kind. It's hard to explain, but I felt pure unconditional love flowing towards me.So in these terms I would advise anyone to go there, regardless also of their nationality or faith. 

I deeply appreciated the cosmopolitan vibe of Tel Aviv, its colourful market, white beaches and modern looking leisure port. Here and there one can see interesting Bauhaus buildings and wander on Rotschild Boulevard or hang out in lively neighbourhoods like Neve Tzedek, Sheinkin street or Florentin. I was very  lucky to have such good hosts there. 

And so was I in Bethlehem, on the Palestinian side of the story, spending time with a Christian family and taking a day trip around with a Muslim taxi driver and tour guide, a former history and geography teacher. I saw bedouins on donkeys and horses, a desert monastery, the Shepherds' Field, Solomon's Pools and the ruins of a Herode's palace in a record time, with a great guide, who spoke decent English and knew plenty of stories. The Nativity church is simply beautiful but really rundown, and most visitors were paying less attention to its beauty and more to the basement stone were Jesus was supposed to be born. I was shocked to see the caretaker washing the Byzantine mosaics with a dirty mop. But I guess this is as much as they have. Life is far from being easy there, but smiles are for free. 

Then there is Jerusalem, with its confusing old city, made of the Muslim, Christian, Jewish and Armenian Quarter. A true 1001 nights experience, especially on the market (souk) streets, some shops look like Ali Baba caves and you can sample many delights of the Middle Eastern exotic and flavourful world. I had a hard time getting the Christian vibe of the place, except for the hundreds of pilgrims that insisted in living in their own pious bubble. The churches were assaulted by hordes of passionate Christians, clicking desperately on their phones and cameras button, like there was no tomorrow. The next best thing to do was to touch whatever stone or image was supposed to be the holiest of the place: where Jesus died, wept, stepped, where Mary was born, were Mary died, etc., like on a freaking film set. No corner to recollect and reconnect, which for me gives sense to a pilgrimage. Most cathedrals show signs of their impressive age, old grey smoky walls with hardly any signs of painting, old icons and beautiful ancient lamps. My biggest frustration was not seeing the so called Dome of the Rock big mosque, an ancient piece of pure architectural beauty. On Friday and Saturday it is closed to non-Muslims.

The newer Israelian side also hosts a bustling market, Mahane Yehuda, full of goodies of all kinds and a central fun zone, with pedestrian streets and nice hang out coffee shops and bars. I had no time for museums, but for a first visit I think I had plenty on my plate. 

To me though the best experiences were the moments I spent out of the cities: Kinneret Lake, Judean desert (old Mar Saba monastery), the Ein Gedi oasis and national park, the Dead Sea shore, the Massada ruins. Nature is a gift of God to the humans troubled soul and restless mind.

WISDOM TO ACCEPT

I don't know what lies ahead. I never did. Since I found out I might be released from my functions in Lisbon, Portugal (August, and now it's December), I was extremely restless and anxious, having trouble in falling asleep and then waking up in the middle of the night. And the news came closer and closer, but I kept hoping until I got that fatal message three days ago (well, and a preview  before the week-end, but hope dies last).  I felt the sky was falling upon me. The same feeling you would probably have on a road in the middle of nowhere, not knowing where it goes either. As if you were thrown out of a car in an unknown place. And I remembered all the hard times I've been through starting from scratch in Montreal and Barcelona. Please, please, not again! I switched countries too many times lately, like in some crazy montagne russe or merry-go-round: Canada, Romania, Catalunya, Portugal...stop it now! 

But...wait a minute! This is MY life, the way it comes, with its ups and downs, and this is precisely what I should enjoy, the unexpected, the challenge, the thrill of the unknown. It's pretty unique actually, all these countries, friends and experiences. A real ride, so much to observe, so much to learn, to catch...and to let go. 

The fear actually came from feeling lost. Once I started pinning solutions and alternatives, drawing a plan for tomorrow, I calmed down. Somehow serenity and acceptance grew inside me, when you find yourself in the middle of nowhere on an unknown road all you have to do is keep going, until you get somewhere where you feel like staying for a while. Maybe Lisbon. Maybe somewhere else. Maybe the remaining of my life will be like this, a patchwork of places and experiences, a continous wander. I went to Canada with the idea of staying there, same for Barcelona, and then something showed up that pushed me to keep moving. So let's see, the idea is to go to Bucharest and come back to Lisboa next year. I met some wonderful people here, warm and kind, a beautiful, golden, almost caressing light, especially at sunset time, amazing food, a powerful ocean (a bit cold for my swimming urges). It's somehow nice and quiet. Maybe the place it's here. Maybe not.

JUST BREATHE

A partir de hoy voy escribir en la lengua que hablan mis pensamientos en el momento.

Camino junto al Atlántico, hay una luminosidad especial, que precede o sigue la lluvia, sobre el mar una mezcla de azules y grises claros, debajo el agua como un vidrio verdoso, casi fosforescente, en movimiento. Camino por la ciudad y me siento como ahogándome en mi globo de cristal. Me siento caminando por una pecera, atrapada, incapaz de comunicarme. No hay mañana, hay sólo hoy, implacable, mañana no sé por donde empezar. Como un personaje de Kafka, o como llegar a una estación en medio del campo sin saber cuando llega el próximo tren para llevarte a cualquier otro lugar que se puede nombrar. Mi puesto de trabajo, donde sigo desde febrero, está anunciado oficialmente como disponible para quien quiera presentarse, desde hace dos días. Yo no recibí ninguna noticias, pero sé que vendrá, como sabes que una roca que empezó a deslizarse por la montaña te aplastará si no te apartas de su camino. Siento que ya no puedo respirar hondo. No sé cuando recibiré el aviso para salir de aquí, de la oficina y el apartamento. Otra vez cajas, otra vez en el camino...hacia donde?

Camino y cuando paro, en el tren, o para comer,  continuo leyendo "La viajera" de Karla Suarez, un  libro que sentí que necesitaba leer, tan solo por el nombre que llevaba. La viajera es una mujer que cambió mucha veces de ciudad: La Habana, Sao Paulo, México DF, Madrid, Paris, Roma...y continua. Pretende buscar su Ítaca, porque en ninguna de estas ciudades no se sintió en su casa. Para, respira hondo, siente la ciudad, vive, trabaja, se enamora, hasta tiene un hijo, pero no se queda. Un poco como mi historia, me fui de Montréal porque la ciudad no me hablaba, de vuelta a Bucarest sentí lo mismo, una llamada para irme, y luego en Barcelona estaba bien cuando decidí que valía la pena venir a Lisboa para hacer el trabajo que llevaba tiempo soñando hacer. Y ahora es todo lo que tengo aquí. Y se me despiden, como te deshaces de un trapo viejo, qué? Para donde?

Portugal está mal, España igual, el puesto que dejé en Catalunya se ocupó, quedó libre y volvió a estar ocupado. Bucarest...allí solo tengo a mi familia y a unos pocos amigos, que se vuelven siempre menos. Me imagino en medio de un camino de donde salen otros mil tentáculos, hacia todos los países y las ciudades posibles,  con  todas mis cajas, sin saber como cargar con ellas, ni por donde coger. Cambié demasiados países estos últimos dos años (que ya van para tres), ya no aguanto más.

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita 
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura

ché la diritta via era smarrita.

Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura

5esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte

che nel pensier rinova la paura!

Y tiento recordarme como se respira. No entrar en pánico, pensar que hay soluciones, a pesar de estar sola al otro lado de Europa, en la orilla del Atlántico, con tanto horizonte abierto delante que hasta parece irónico. Irme no sería huir y huir y huir, una y otra vez? No sería más sabio tentar de quedarme y echar por fin algo como raíces?

ON FEAR

Fear kills one's soul and mind, it stops one from thinking and feeling right. Fear is panic, stress, blindness at heart. And it's so hard to resist its temptation, to have faith, to trust your inner feelings, believe in what is just, the right thing to do, resist threats, bribes, the psychological pressure of an uncertain future that may see you dragged down. People that fear the consequences and fear to say out loud what they think ask for more harassment.

On the other hand, why some people think that fear can control better than love does? They think they can take control over others through psychological harassment, alternating gratification and punishment. They probably are afraid themselves and look for protection on the wrong side.

I noticed that it's so much easier to convince people when you do your best to be loved and not feared. Thank God that I grew up in a family of braves, that faced every life circumstance with great courage and honesty, and kept their back straight, no matter how heavy the burden. It's easier to fight fear when I think of them. And of love, as long as I am around beautiful souls that love me, I feel strong. And their strength grows from mine, it is a circle of light, an unbreakable one, I hope.

Be careful what you wish for...

On the move...again, almost there, like a wave you see approaching knowing it will drag you away. I could stay indeed, I love Barcelona, I moved here because I wanted to, I made my choice out of all the cities in Europe, this part of the world that makes me feel I belong.

And still, when I found out at the end of July that I was offered my dream job in a city I am also very fond of I said YES without giving it a second thought. The second thoughts came afterwards and it wasn't easy not to change my mind. I actually did, every day, looking around me at this charming city so comfortably nested between the mountains and the sea and wondering why shall I exchange the good with the better. When I first heard that the organization I work for opened offices in Barcelona I wished I could get a job there, it was rather wishful thinking, as I was still in Canada at the time. Then, before leaving Montreal, I wrote to a public institution that was also on top of my interest list, I was offered an interview as soon as I got home, with no consequences, I thought.

Then I moved to the city of my Mediterranean dreams. After struggling, with dignity, for eight months in Barcelona, having some interesting interviews that ended up in nothing, I finally got one in the international organization I was interested in since 2008. And right after the last interview I left for another one with the person who interviewed me one year prior, this time it was a concrete proposition.

Surprisingly enough, back in Barcelona I got the first job I wished for, not exactly the position I would have liked, but it was still something incredible to me, to work in a palace in the middle of a pine and palm trees park, full of green parrots and with a few ponds for the comfort of the resident ducks. Spending my day in an international multilingual environment, very enriching, with nice people around, organizing every few months meetings with representatives from a whole range of countries and cultures, around a very ambitious and generous project. Like a fish in the water. Or a duck?

Then, boom! four months after I started working I even got to make a choice. I have a theory about contemporary stress and anxiety being generated in great part by the variety of choices, from yogurt to a suitable life partner. So here I was, trying to decide what's best for me: I love both cities, one is bathed by warm waters, the other by cold ones; in Barcelona I have some nice new friends, there I have guaranteed lifetime friends, that received me with open arms after 13 years of absence, a few handwritten letters, postcards and emails. The job, well, the other job, that I will take in January, is what I always wanted to do, organize and promote cultural events, so I could join my expertise to my private interests. A beautiful challenge...that after all I could not avoid, it's stronger than me, as usual. I love change and change stresses me, but I simply don't take comfort as the best thing I could have. And I have comfort in Barcelona, even more than the city I love its geographic position, the closeness to the Pyrenees, to France, the Mediterranean embrace that created the amazing landscapes of Costa Brava. I will miss my beach afternoons and twilight swims, the hikes, the possibility to get abroad in three hours by train (last Saturday I passed from Spain to France and from France to Spain once in train and three times on foot). Otherwise, as a city, my next destination has its own undeniable spells to cast.

I shall be very very careful from now on with what I wish, either I meet the little gold fish or not, he might be under disguise.

WHAT'S GOING ON

The financial/ economic crisis is still rising and we don't seem to know the way out yet. People go with the flow, protest a little, live and work, party and have sex, going on with their lives, according to the means. I hear some of them around me complaining about their low (actually not so low) salaries, their social&professional position, the importance of their personal development, the value of their studies and knowledge. On top of it, we are accustomed to the welfare state, to go out, to satisfy our whims, eat in restaurants, drink and dance the night away, dress well and go shopping according to the season's fashion, take care of our feet, nails, hair, skin. And boom! a lot of us lost part of these privileges, that are seen as part of a normal, ordinary life, middle class routine.

Let's put it plainly, comfort (read hedonism) became our ideal in life, and our society is packed with personal development gurus, life coaches and counselors on how to become prosper and happy . The self rules: self-help, self-development, self-fulfillment, self-awareness, self-esteem, self-assurance, not forgetting the oh, so sweet!, self-reward. Love thyself first. This should be your daily thought "I deserve the best and my purpose in life is to get it". As soon as we miss something we feel unfulfilled. If we don't get the perfect job (including a matching salary), the ideal husband, the house of our dreams, we feel that our life is not complete and therefore we can't be happy. Because we are all taught that we are exceptional individuals and we have to struggle to achieve better and better and better and better... Companies produce more, many of them in other faraway countries, eventually overworking and underpaying the workers, so we can consume more, filling the inner void with objects of desire.

Our parents and grandparents did what they could in most cases, what the society conditioned them to do. They were raised with the idea that they should get married and build a family, didn't plan on how many children they should have and just struggled to maintain the family without thinking that much at their self development and personal growth. The main purpose was to raise the children and lead a decent life, giving something back to the society if they were richer. Lonely artists and scientists were eccentric exceptions. Of course, I am aware of the advantages of our freshly acquired freedom, especially when it comes to women (it wasn't too bad in the Roman Empire either). But I also think that this wild individualism with a strong hedonist orientation is not taking us too close to a peaceful mind and a serene soul. Learning to live with less and rely more on ourselves and less on things would do the trick.

I am no exception, I search for pleasure as much as everyone else, while I am trying to exert some self-criticism and keep it under control at the same time.

GENTLY SETTLING AND DRAWING LINES

A few months more since my last post and there are so many changes I contemplate now from a short time distance.

No. 1: I managed to get a stable job, after a one year not-easy-to-live-with gap. I work in a park inside of a palace, with a big window that lets in the sun, the chirping of the birds, the smell of resin in the heat. When I look outside I only see the various shades of green of the many types of pine trees trying to reach the sky. At lunch time I can have a half an hour break reading in the shade, eventually looking at the cotorras argentinas or the urracas. The ducklings I saw a few months ago swimming in the ponds and fountains are now as big as momma duck. My fellow workers are fun and kind, almost all of us get along nicely and I get to use almost all my languages on a daily basis. At the beginning of July I had to organize a reunion of about fifty government experts coming from 21 countries from Europe, North Africa and Middle East, everything went very smoothly and my department head thanked me in front of everyone at the end of the meeting. My writing skills were also put to work for the final public information text. So all together I feel useful and well treated. I was never extremely ambitious and the more I grow inside, the more I learn how to enjoy and be thankful for the good side of things in my life.

No. 2: My stand-by relationship got to a very inglorious cold end after my Cuban (future) ex paid me a one week visit enclosed in a six weeks trip to Spain. We started talking about marriage and a common future here and somehow on the way I realized that for one whole year I was floating in a beautiful and fragile soap bubble that suddenly broke and let me fall on the hard evidence that after all distance and time torn us apart. We were and we are very different, in terms of background and lifestyle, and this year our ways split to the point of no return. It was an emotional break for me, that I had to cope with after he left, that very moment was very short and I didn’t realize what was happening, that it was the last time we were seeing each other as a couple. When I left Canada and we said good-bye in the airport, there was sudden pain and many doubts about doing the right thing or not. It was a separation between two people that were in love and shared a home. It still hurts to know that the three years we were together and the one year of waiting and hoping were reduced merely to memories in no time. But at least I know there is no other way, it was a fine, sharp and clean cut, I can almost imagine a steel blade, guillotine style that suddenly falls and leaves no shreds.

No. 3: I managed to move from my cage aux folles, the Romanian run home, crowded and filled with cigarette smoke and too many times with strong cooking smells. My room was nice though and they were good people, but living in a different bubble. Now I stay in the same Sagrada Familia neighbourhood, on a street that bears the name of one of my favourite cities and above my tree level balcony there’s a blue metal plate that reads “La Ciudad de Buenos Aires”. I share with a nice Catalan girl who’s almost like a younger sister to me, and her dog, Ganja, a lovely half-blind and extremely affectionate cocker. The sitting room is big enough to be able to invite people for dinner again. When I wake up in the morning and I open my door, instead of cigarette smoke there’s Ganja happily wagging her piece of tail waiting to be cuddled.

No. 4: Last but not least, I managed to start moving around (one of the main reasons for coming back to mother Europe) and go visit friends in Lisbon and Toulouse that I have not seen for 13 and 15 years respectively. I was received with the utmost generosity, more like a long lost parent than like a friend that’s been away. Their home was my home and I was moved to tears to find out once more that friendship after all is probably the most beautiful and deep thing in my life.

Lisbon was celebrating the national day and Santo Antonio, the streets were blooming with colourful decorations and the smell of grilled sardines filled the hot air. On Saturday night I went alone to a fado concert set inside the Sao Jorge castle on the hill, overlooking the Tejo estuary under the stars. Besides, the city is as beautiful as ever and I got to visit other spots in this small and charming country by the ocean: Alcochete, Montemor-o-Novo, Evora, Cabo da Roca. Fabulous blue, green and pink (roofs) landscapes, great food, not to mention the company…so I’m going back in August, to spend more time with my Portuguese soul sisters and keep discovering the Lusitanian hidden treasures.

Toulouse, la ville rose aux bords de la Garonne, en plein Midi, with amazing Gothic buildings still standing up, especially le Monastère des Jacobins (I have a special weakness for cloisters) and the scrumptious French desserts. Not far, on the shores of the Tarn, there's Albi, home of Toulouse-Lautrec, dominated by its high episcopal palace and the Ste. Cecile cathedral, masterpieces of pink brick Gothic, so far from the cold gray stones that usually served as building material.

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I am at a point in life where I dreamed and wanted to be ten years ago, is it still the same, am I able to enjoy it and appreciate as much as I would have then? I won some things and lost some things on the way, I’m a little stronger, a little emptier, a little wiser and even bitterer and less ready to believe in the beauty of things and expect the unexpected. But the sense of balance is here; my life is in Barcelona now. Although, after changing places quite a few times, I know nothing, no one and nowhere is for life, there´s no real security in anything, and that’s probably close to the Buddhist teachings about accepting change and transiency as unavoidable. I feel peace, there's only love missing.