Foi há 24 anos que nasci. Pelo Outono, assim como quem tomba já para o Inverno, a 12 de dezembro. Nasci e vivi em Vila Real, no norte de Portugal, em Trás-os-Montes, aquela bela zona do paÃs. Pelos 15 anos Vila Real começou a ser pouco para mim e na minha cabeça começaram a surgir outras vontades além Marão e, por isso mesmo, aos 17 anos enchi as malas de tralha e os pulmões de ar e mudei-me para Lisboa para viver uma vida nova. Entrei para a faculdade, iniciei o curso de Sociologia e quatro anos depois trouxe para casa o canudo de Ciências da Comunicação. Era o jornalismo que eu queria e foi no jornalismo que comecei a trabalhar. Não na minha área de sonho, mas com o que tinha fiz o melhor que pude e aproximei o mais que consegui ao objetivo que tinha na minha cabeça. Mas nunca fui pessoa de sonhar apenas com um trabalho que me preenchesse. Sim, sempre fui a miúda lamechas que embora fosse feliz a viver sozinha, sabia perfeitamente que esse não seria o seu caminho. Acho que assim que conheci o J me apaixonei e embora não tivesse a certeza, tinha a sensação que me voltaria a cruzar com ele na vida, numa causa maior. Hoje, quase sete anos depois de pisar a capital pela primeira vez, cá estou eu, feliz e contente, a viver esta causa maior que é a felicidade. Ao lado do J.
Mas este paÃs não é fácil. Nem sempre nos sentimos respeitados, nem sempre nos sentimos valorizados e a vontade de, aos 24 anos, procurar outras formas de viver falava cada vez mais alto. Foi há praticamente um ano que uma simples palavra mudou o nosso shit cá por casa. Essa palavra era... Austrália. E nós, estamos a cada dia mais perto de voar até lá, com bilhete só de ida.
É sobre esta jornada que vos quero falar neste blogue. Sobre uma viagem só de ida para o outro lado do mundo, apenas com as garantias mÃnimas. Quero contar-vos esta história a cada dia, no entanto, é importante referir que esta viagem começa ainda em Portugal, enquanto ainda estamos a empacotar tralhas de casa que ficam por terras lusas e expectativas para levar para a Austrália. Temos umas quantas malas cheias de sonhos e a certeza de que, na hipótese de tudo correr mal, traremos certamente boas histórias para contar.
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I was born 24 years ago. By the Autumn, closely falling to the winter, at December’s 12th. I’ve been born and raised in Vila Real, in the north of Portugal, in Trás-os-Montes, that beautiful part f the country. Around 15, Vila Real started to be too little for me and in my head some other wills beyond Marão began to emerge so, at 17 I filled my bags with trash and the lungs os air and moved to Lisboa to live a new life. I got in to college, started Sociology course and four years later brought home the straw os Media Studies. Journalism was want I wanted and it was in journalism that I started working. Not in my dream area but, with what I had I did the best I could and got the closer I could to the objective that I had in mind. But I was never a person that dreamed only with a job that filed me. Yes, I always was that lame girl that although happy to live alone, I perfectly knew that that would not be me way. I think that the moment I knew J, I felt in love and even though I was not sure, I had the feeling that I would cross him again in life, in a bigger cause. Today, almost seven years after stepping the capital for the first time, here I am, happy, living this bigger cause: happiness. By J’s side.
But this country is not easy. We don’t always feel respected, we don’t always feel valorised and the will of, at 24, find other ways of living speaks louder and louder. Almost a year ago a simple word changed our chip here at home. That word was...Australia. And we are each day closer to fly there with only a going ticket.
It’s about this journey that I want to talk about in this blog. About a going trip to the other side of the world, with only minimal guarantees. I want to tell you this story day by day, however, it’s important to refer that this journey starts in Portugal, while we are still packing home trash that will stay in land and expectations to take to Australia. We have a bunch of bags full of dreams a the certainty of, if everything goes wrong, we will certainly bring goods stories to tell.
I was born 24 years ago. By the Autumn, closely falling to the winter, at December’s 12th. I’ve been born and raised in Vila Real, in the north of Portugal, in Trás-os-Montes, that beautiful part f the country. Around 15, Vila Real started to be too little for me and in my head some other wills beyond Marão began to emerge so, at 17 I filled my bags with trash and the lungs os air and moved to Lisboa to live a new life. I got in to college, started Sociology course and four years later brought home the straw os Media Studies. Journalism was want I wanted and it was in journalism that I started working. Not in my dream area but, with what I had I did the best I could and got the closer I could to the objective that I had in mind. But I was never a person that dreamed only with a job that filed me. Yes, I always was that lame girl that although happy to live alone, I perfectly knew that that would not be me way. I think that the moment I knew J, I felt in love and even though I was not sure, I had the feeling that I would cross him again in life, in a bigger cause. Today, almost seven years after stepping the capital for the first time, here I am, happy, living this bigger cause: happiness. By J’s side.
But this country is not easy. We don’t always feel respected, we don’t always feel valorised and the will of, at 24, find other ways of living speaks louder and louder. Almost a year ago a simple word changed our chip here at home. That word was...Australia. And we are each day closer to fly there with only a going ticket.
It’s about this journey that I want to talk about in this blog. About a going trip to the other side of the world, with only minimal guarantees. I want to tell you this story day by day, however, it’s important to refer that this journey starts in Portugal, while we are still packing home trash that will stay in land and expectations to take to Australia. We have a bunch of bags full of dreams a the certainty of, if everything goes wrong, we will certainly bring goods stories to tell.
love,
C.
