Feeling one's way through ...

Mia will be 32 years old tomorrow ... it doesn't seem that long ago ..., when she acted out sadness and grieve  at the age of 4 or 5 following her sister's request to do so ... sobbing and letting her tears run down her face ... showing us how easy it was to convincingly perform whichever feeling we wanted to ...

None of us could have had the faintest idea then ... that she would become a theatre actress and that very soon after Faye's death she would be on stage performing loss and feeling it through, while simultaneously grief-stricken by the physical bond with the sister that would be no more and the cut of the orchard tree of her childhood and adolescence in Anton Chekhov's play.

Tomorrow I celebrate once more the blessing of having two wonderful daughters, one sharing my daily life down here and the other one watching over us (I am sure) from wherever she may be ...

The price of a smile ...

Two children at a Mexican open market after having been given two small gifts (a ball and a pen).

Two street vendors in Puebla, Mexico soon after I bought them a few woven bracelets.





Three young villagers of San Palopo, Guatemala, while looking at some colouring pencils and pens I had brought for them.

Personal reflection ...

When abroad we are somehow tempted to consume, rather than to experience ...

Doing volunteer work in rural communities of Africa has led me to ponder one's place in the world and  undoubtedly encouraged my personal reflection.

As I wandered around Calheta with the camera in my hands, some  local women called out for me. They were working on the other side of the road at a cobble stone pavement area being re-paved and wanted me to take their photos.
As I suggested they put down the buckets filled with stones, so as to have their photos taken, they seemed surprised and even shocked.

"We are proud of carrying these buckets up and down", one of them said ... "and we are proud of having some money to take home at the end of the day", another one prompted ..."so, Madam, take these photos of ours holding the bread-winning buckets on our heads".

As I walked further into Calhetona, I sighted three young girls sitting by the side of the road. Two were playing cards and the one who looked slightly older

was removing the scales of some small fish with a sharp cutting knife. "How old are you?", I asked.
"Six, Madam ... I am six years old".

Kabongo's paintings

I bought the first Kabongo paintings in 2001.
I was strongly impressed by the themes which evolved around market scenes and street vendors ... that's what Luanda's downtown was about then ... a permanent movement of  strong colours and odours ... thick paint strokes embellishing the stuffy humid atmosphere ...

I went back in 2006 ... met the painter in a small Portuguese restaurant carrying a bunch of small tree branch framed canvases for sale ... the same vibrant colours filled in the air, as he showed one after the other ...

I haven't been back since then ... but Kabongo's paintings, still lined up against my living room wall, bring me those pitch singing voices of the "kitandeiras" selling those strong scented tropical fruits whenever I look at them ...

"The boundaries we cross ..."

"The boundaries we cross are not always physical - travel involves an internal journey as well as an external one, as we discover more about ourselves.
When we travel we come up against the boundaries inside us: our prejudices, our limits, our willingness to understand and our ability to empathise." - Maureen Wheeler

Ceramic glazed tile -   Gardens of the 17th century Palace Marquês da Fronteira, Lisboa

The16th century Chapel of bones, Évora, a helpful place (it is said) to meditate on the transience of material things in the presence of death.
The message above the chapel door reads "We, here lying bones await your bones to join us".            

"(...) to set foot on one's country as a foreign land".

According to Gilbert K. Chesterton "the whole object of travel is not to set foot on a foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land".

That's what I have been doing since 2007. Here are some carved figures which have touched me for very different reasons.

Henry the Navigator holding a small caravel at the prow of the caravel shaped monument to the Discoveries evoquing the maritime expansion.

The tomb (a detail) of Inês de Castro in the Monastery of Alcobaça - the posthumously exhumed and declared lawful wife of King D. Pedro I of Portugal.

Manueline entrance of the Convent of Christ's Church in Tomar (detail).

The Triton, simbolyzing the creation of the world - Pena National Palace, Sintra.

Justina's forthcoming birthday party

Justina is 9 years old and doesn't seem to know what a birthday party is, firstly because she has never been told her exact birthdate and secondly, even if she had, the chances of having a birthday party would be virtually non-existent.

I was touched by her life story, as she humbly told me she had never met her mother, who according to relatives abandoned her at an early age. She doesn't remember her father either, although I was told he came over once to see her as a child, to soon go back to France where he lives. She is being looked after by an aunt, whom she is thankful  to for having accepted her, but the truth is this aunt of hers, whom I had the opportunity to talk to, uses her to look after the young cousins,  do the housework and anything else she may be capable of doing. The fact she is allowed to go to school is just because the Cape Verdian government has imposed it, once her aunt told me she considered it a loss of time and money.
I'll soon be flying to Cape Verde to organize her a birthday party. I have found out she will be 10 next June, the 10th and even if this will be the only birthday party she'll ever have, I'll make sure she will blow the 10 candles ... that she will be surrounded by  the 11 girlfriends who attended the same workshop as she did and that we will all sing her "Happy birthday"  ... This child deserves to be happy ..., not only on her birthday ... but throughtout her life. She has suffered enough ... and yet ... she is still capable of smilling.