All this time writing for my imaginary friends on this blog, and perhaps for some members of my family who follow me on social networks (saudades família <3), and I’ve only realized now that I never spoke of something so important to me: my roots.
A few weeks ago, at one of the Schuman Volunteers meetings, we were asked what we would say if we had to identify ourselves using the phrase “I am”. For me it was instantaneous: I am Portuguese because being Portuguese is a giant part of my identity.
Don’t get me wrong, I feel like a citizen of the world, but there is no part of my body and soul that doesn’t feel Portuguese, with all the nostalgia and saudade that this entails.
I love leaving home, exploring, watching the world change as I get to know it better, but I also love going back home and feeling that there is no country like Portugal or a city as beautiful as Lisbon.
While I was trying to find the words to express what it means to be Portuguese I found a post that really got me in my feelings and made me want to hear my national anthem and cry about how much I love my country, so here is it:
“(…)
Being Portuguese is being proud to be Portuguese even when you say the opposite. It’s going outside and talking about fado, food, the beach, everything we are proud of when we miss it. To be Portuguese is to feel Saudade. It’s missing the sun, your grandmother’s soups, coffees and cigarettes on the terrace with friends. To be Portuguese is to feel Saudade and to not forget. It means being nostalgic, but having selective amnesia every 4 years and complaining that everything is the same.
(…)
Being Portuguese is saying good morning to your neighbour, saying good morning in the cafe, saying hello to the postman, and thank you in the elevator. To be Portuguese is to say “vai se andando”, forward, never backward. To be Portuguese is to be pessimistic when things are good, but optimistic when they are bad. To be Portuguese is to be human and therefore to be incoherent.
(…)Guilherme Duarte,
To be Portuguese is not to be patriotic, but to feel watery eyes when listening to the national anthem. It is to say that it is the most beautiful of all. It’s putting a flag in the window and leaving the door open for anyone who wants to enter. To be Portuguese is to shout at the national team even though you have never won anything, just for the pride of being from Portugal. ”
January 31, 2014
So yeah, this is being Portuguese, and I feel so proud of it.
Com amor,
your very Portuguese volunteer,
Carolina xx