Festa Junina Celebrations

Normally when people think of Brasil they think of the month long party Carnaval, but the underrated little brother to that celebration is Festa Junina. This month long holiday honors three saints, and even spills into July to create Festa Julina. The most authentic experience I could have asked for was at a chakara with 150 people, more food than I could imagine eating, a mechanical bull, and the quadrilo (square dancing in sorts). The traditional wear is to dress as a caipira, farmer, in plaid, dresses, braids, and mustaches. Although I've gone to a few Festa Junina events, this by far was my favorite. 

A Very Honest Poem to Organize Thoughts

Not everyday is wonderful while living abroad. You're away from your family and friends, you experience culture shock, and throw in immersion for a real kicker of a challenge. I used to write poetry more frequently when I was younger, and it's one of the things that inspired me to pursue and English major. Yes, living abroad can be hard- especially if you have anxiety and depression, but it's manageable. This post is not a cry for help, nor complaining, but simply rather just the very honest portraying of some of my thoughts one night that I jotted down. :)


Small truths about me-

I'm a sweets girl.
I'll take sweet over savory anyday.
Moving around as I have has made me unattached in a way.
I get restless if I stay in an area
for too long,
Which is partially how I wound up in another hemisphere,
Again.
I prefer paper books to electronics-
the antiquated manner English majors prefer.
I am a hopeless romantic through and through.
When the rain pours, I do hope for a passionate kiss.
I crave being pulled in for a slow dance with no music.
I look forward to hugs when I can nuzzle my head into a chest.
I prefer hugs over kisses-
The feeling of being wrapped up and feeling safe.
Waking up and a shy good morning smile
from the guy I like is one of my favorite
Moment of the day.
I'm a restless sleeper, and crave the comfort of being held as I sleep,
but know I can't.
But just a hand reached over and touching me
keeps me at peace.
Living in the heat of Brazil helped me to overcome my anxiety
of sleeping without a blanket.
It took 9 years,
but the Brazilian heat broke me
for the better .
Writing, normally a form of stress relief,
turned into a stress producer this year.
I worry about the future too much,
And while Brazil has helped to shed
a bit of the tranquilo attitude on me,
I still worry about rejections this coming year.
Until this year, I thought I wanted
and needed to settle down.
I thought that by 25 I wanted to buy a house,
start a family,
and have a stable job,
but now I can't imagine this timeline.
Fulbright has given me hope for
winning more fellowships
and furthering my education,
but everyday I remind myself that
it's ok to work for a year or pursue a different opportunity
if things don't work out as planned.
Everyday my goals for what I want
to do and how I want to change
the world- morph.
I just hope that something
advantageous comes from these goals.
Somedays in Brazil I surprise myself and hold
down my depression and anxiety to the point
that you might know they affect me.
Other days, I curl up in my bed, avoiding
the language, stress, and people.
Somedays, I'm so sick of hearing Portuguese.
Somedays, I want to be back in the country
I know so well how to navigate.
Most days though, I babble
On with English thoughts
in my head and
a botched Portuguese conversation aloud.
The sunrise reflecting off
the city buildings keeps me grounded.
Every morning I wait for
the pink clouds and I mentally
remind myself of reasons to feel lucky.
I count them off in my head everyday.
I've never been an easy girl to understand.
I say one thing and mean another.
I'm the cliche-
I get mad over simple things,
realize the ridiculousness,
but fear apologizing.
I get mad, and sad, and I cry too much
I cry when I'm sad
I cry when I'm happy
My body just leaks
whenever it's emotional-
Which scares people
I try to stay grounded, but sometimes
communicating seems impossible.
Especially when my language
barrier sets me back to being 5 years old.
The prestige of a Fulbright fellow,
but the day to day feeling
of a struggling girl just trying to make it through
one conversation after another until the day is over
Then repeat.
But smile as I wait
For the pink glimmer on the glass.

Immersion Ups and Downs

The ugly truth about immersion. Depending on the person- you cry, feel exhausted, want to stay curled up safe in your room, wish to be back in the country where you can hear your native language everywhere, and maybe even feel mad or frustrated that once again your language level is that of a five year old. For me, it is all of these. I leave Portuguese class crying some days. I feel inept when I can’t understand the cashier at a supermarket. I can tell that people are looking at me and talking about me, but I can’t understand everything they’re saying. I wish more than anything somedays that I could fast forward a few months to when I could hopefully recognize more verbs and words in a conversation. People keep telling me that I’m doing really well for only studying Portuguese for one month, but it feels like a defeat to not know more. As of this week, I start my second Portuguese class. This means that I will have an overlap of three weeks where I’m taking classes Monday through Thursday for Portuguese. My brain is frazzled and I don’t know how many more times I can ask a Brasilian person to speak slower. Here is to hoping that within this month I’ll hit the magical “clicking” point that everyone tells me will come eventually.