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Cinco meses de Qatar. E a vida vai-se, finalmente, ajeitando por aqui.
Cinco meses de Qatar. E a vida vai-se, finalmente, ajeitando por aqui.
Cinco meses a viver no limiar do cinzentão. (Emocional. Não meteorológico!) - Houve dias de puro desespero, em que temi pela minha boa sanidade mental. Juro que sim.
Posso admitir, já estar fora da red zone, e sei, perfeitamente, quem me manteve à superfície: Os livros, minha gente! (Romances, essencialmente).
Se há alguém que possa dizer, com toda a certeza, que os livros são os seus melhores amigos. Esse alguém, sou eu. Simplesmente, porque já fui salva por eles, muitas vezes...
É neles que me refugio nos momentos de angústia. São a única companhia que consigo tolerar (para além do silêncio). Eles têm sempre todas as respostas. E nunca fazem perguntas.
Evadir-me para uma realidade bem longínqua e distinta da minha, parece resultar comigo.
É neles que me refugio nos momentos de angústia. São a única companhia que consigo tolerar (para além do silêncio). Eles têm sempre todas as respostas. E nunca fazem perguntas.
Evadir-me para uma realidade bem longínqua e distinta da minha, parece resultar comigo.
Ler, ajuda-me a criar distanciamento da origem das minhas penas, assim que, quando regresso novamente a elas, me parecem ligeiramente mais leves.
Ainda bem que me vou cruzando com outras mães, acabadas de chegar, que se sentem de igual forma, desenraizadas e a construir mecanismos internos de adaptação à nova realidade - a partilha de experiências é das melhores coisas do mundo. A união que criam entre as pessoas, também.
Não quero com isto transmitir a ideia, e-r-r-a-d-a, de que esteja infeliz neste pais, emprestado. Nada disso! Muito pelo contrário. Sou infinitamente grata pela oportunidade que a minha família tem, por todas as experiências que nos dá diariamente, pela multi-culturalidade à nossa volta, pelas pessoas que se cruzam no nosso caminho, e que vou conhecendo melhor, todos os dias.
Gosto, antes, de pensar nesta fase inicial, como um custo de oportunidade.
Ainda bem que me vou cruzando com outras mães, acabadas de chegar, que se sentem de igual forma, desenraizadas e a construir mecanismos internos de adaptação à nova realidade - a partilha de experiências é das melhores coisas do mundo. A união que criam entre as pessoas, também.
Não quero com isto transmitir a ideia, e-r-r-a-d-a, de que esteja infeliz neste pais, emprestado. Nada disso! Muito pelo contrário. Sou infinitamente grata pela oportunidade que a minha família tem, por todas as experiências que nos dá diariamente, pela multi-culturalidade à nossa volta, pelas pessoas que se cruzam no nosso caminho, e que vou conhecendo melhor, todos os dias.
Gosto, antes, de pensar nesta fase inicial, como um custo de oportunidade.
A realidade dos dias não se alterou, portanto. Ainda requer reajustamentos. Mas a chegada das nossas coisas, representou, indubitavelmente, o momento da mudança, no estado de espírito instalado.
Finalmente, a nossa casa parece-se menos com uma casa, e mais com um lar. A nossa vida parece-se menos com a vida de campistas, e mais com a nossa.
Aquilo que demorei duas semanas a embalar, montei em 4 dias, completamente obstinada e focada no objectivo. Estava faminta de me sentir eu mesma, novamente.
A vontade de criar está a regressar, devagarinho. O meu "atelier" já conheceu o seu novo espaço, e está satisfeito com ele; a minha cozinha, já preencheu todos os cantinhos vazios, e já podemos comer os "coaxões da mamã" ao pequeno-almoço.
O Salvador já pode dormir na cama dele e brincar com os seus carrinhos, com as suas pistas, com os seus puzzles e as tão desejadas "pastilinas" - que é como quem diz: Plasticinas.
E este, porém, foi o momento por que mais ansiei: Ver os seus olhinhos brilhar, ao abrir cada uma das suas caixas. Era como se nunca tivesse visto nenhum daqueles brinquedos antes.
Poderão não compreender a dimensão que isto teve para mim, mas, talvez, se vos disser que a última vez que desempacotei a minha "casa", tive que enfrentar um berço vazio, roupas que nunca puderam ser usadas, e por aí fora... eventualmente, compreendam que poderá, muito bem, ter sido um ajuste de contas com o passado... Desta vez, deu-me, realmente, um prazer desmesurado.
Viva o dia de amanhã! - Até porque, curiosamente, é o meu aniversário.
Five months of Qatar, and life is finally settling.
Five months living in grey tons. - There were days of pure desperation, in which I feared for my good mental sanity. I swear it to you.
I can, now, admit, to be out of the red zone, and know, exactly, what kept me at surface: Books, folks! (Romances, essentially).
If there's anyone out there, who can say that books are our best friends, that would be me. Simply, because I was saved by them many times...
In times of distress, it's in the books, that I refuge myself. They're the only company that I can tolerate (apart from the silence). They, always, have all the answers. And they never ask questions.
Evading myself to a very distant and different reality from mine, appears to work for me.
Reading helps me creating distance from the origin of my pains, so that, when I return to them again, they seem slightly lighter.
I'm glad I meet some other moms, freshly arrived to the country, that feel the same way, uproot and building intern mechanisms to adapt to the new reality - the sharing of experiences is the best thing in the world. The union it creates between people, too.
This is not to convey the w-r-o-n-g idea, that I'm unhappy in this, borrowed, country. Not at all! Quite the opposite, actually. I am infinitely grateful for the opportunity that my family is having, for all the experiences it gives us daily, for the multi-culturality around us and the people who crosses our path, and I get to know better, every day.
Instead, I like to think about this initial stage as an opportunity cost.
The reality of the days hasn't, then, changed much. It still requires readjustments. But the arrival of our belongings, represented, undoubtedly, a change in the installed state of mind. Finally, our house looks less like a house, and more like a home. And our life, seems less a camper's life, and more our own.
What took me two weeks to pack, I set up in four days. Completely focused on the goal. I was so hungry to feel myself again.
The desire to create is, slowly, returning. My "studio" met his new space, and is satisfied with it; my kitchen has already filled the empty corners, and we can now eat "Mummy's coaxões" for breakfast.
Salvador can now sleep in his bed and play with his cars, his tracks, his puzzles and the much desired "pastilinas" - that is to say: Play-doh.
And this, however, was the moment I yearned the most: Watch his little eyes shine, opening each of his boxes. It was like he had never seen any of those toys before.
You might not come to understand the scale that this event had on me, but perhaps if I tell you that the last time I unpacked my "home", I had to face an empty crib, clothes that had never being used, and so on... and then you can, eventually, understand that this may well have been a settling of accounts with the past... This time, gave me an, indescribable, pleasure.
Hurray for tomorrow´s day! - Because, oddly enough, it is my birthday.
Viva o dia de amanhã! - Até porque, curiosamente, é o meu aniversário.
***************
Five months of Qatar, and life is finally settling.
Five months living in grey tons. - There were days of pure desperation, in which I feared for my good mental sanity. I swear it to you.
I can, now, admit, to be out of the red zone, and know, exactly, what kept me at surface: Books, folks! (Romances, essentially).
If there's anyone out there, who can say that books are our best friends, that would be me. Simply, because I was saved by them many times...
In times of distress, it's in the books, that I refuge myself. They're the only company that I can tolerate (apart from the silence). They, always, have all the answers. And they never ask questions.
Evading myself to a very distant and different reality from mine, appears to work for me.
Reading helps me creating distance from the origin of my pains, so that, when I return to them again, they seem slightly lighter.
I'm glad I meet some other moms, freshly arrived to the country, that feel the same way, uproot and building intern mechanisms to adapt to the new reality - the sharing of experiences is the best thing in the world. The union it creates between people, too.
This is not to convey the w-r-o-n-g idea, that I'm unhappy in this, borrowed, country. Not at all! Quite the opposite, actually. I am infinitely grateful for the opportunity that my family is having, for all the experiences it gives us daily, for the multi-culturality around us and the people who crosses our path, and I get to know better, every day.
Instead, I like to think about this initial stage as an opportunity cost.
The reality of the days hasn't, then, changed much. It still requires readjustments. But the arrival of our belongings, represented, undoubtedly, a change in the installed state of mind. Finally, our house looks less like a house, and more like a home. And our life, seems less a camper's life, and more our own.
What took me two weeks to pack, I set up in four days. Completely focused on the goal. I was so hungry to feel myself again.
The desire to create is, slowly, returning. My "studio" met his new space, and is satisfied with it; my kitchen has already filled the empty corners, and we can now eat "Mummy's coaxões" for breakfast.
Salvador can now sleep in his bed and play with his cars, his tracks, his puzzles and the much desired "pastilinas" - that is to say: Play-doh.
And this, however, was the moment I yearned the most: Watch his little eyes shine, opening each of his boxes. It was like he had never seen any of those toys before.
You might not come to understand the scale that this event had on me, but perhaps if I tell you that the last time I unpacked my "home", I had to face an empty crib, clothes that had never being used, and so on... and then you can, eventually, understand that this may well have been a settling of accounts with the past... This time, gave me an, indescribable, pleasure.
Hurray for tomorrow´s day! - Because, oddly enough, it is my birthday.
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