The Portuguese Diva

You guessed it, that would be me. Not that the Diva part wasn’t already there. It has just now been upgraded by 5 notches. Oh yes, those poor unsuspecting souls around me will now really have their hands full ☺

Being Portuguese has had it’s highlights but also downright frustrating moments. I would say up until the last few years, the frustrating moments have topped the highlights. However it is funny how things you take for granted have a way to come back and bite you in the ass. It was after my moving to Argentina that I really discovered my cultural roots and finally (yes I can see my grandmother rolling her eyes at me now) integrated them into who I am.

As a child I wanted nothing to do with anything Portuguese. It was beyond a hindrance in my life. I grew up in a very traditional Portuguese household with strict rules and traditions, therefore I was not allowed to do many things that most of my friends were allowed to do. I wanted to be like the others but I couldn’t quite make that fit. As a child trying to figure out who they are, being raised in two very distinct cultures (okay let’s be honest, cultures completely alien from one another) can create somewhat of an identity crisis. On top of having different social values, we ate differently, we spoke differently, we had different traditions, and the list goes on. So I grew up shunning a good part of my culture in the attempt to fit into the social culture around me. But then I moved to Argentina.

One of the results of taking off to live this charmed life that I have always been after is the re-connection with myself. And the discovery of aspects of myself that I didn’t even know existed. And so it was with the discovery of the Portuguese Diva.

One of the reasons that I fit in so well in the culture here is because it is exactly the same culture that I was brought up in. This time things were reversed though. The norm was that Portuguese culture that I had tried so hard to veer away from, and the “non-normal” culture, for lack of a better word, was the one I had tried so hard to fit myself into. Most expats when arriving here undergo a period of culture shock (hell some never get out of it) whereas I underwent nothing. I actually found myself defending the culture when surrounded by those who just didn’t understand it or complained about it. And so began my re-introduction into the rich and beautiful roots I had grown up in.

And then an interesting thing happened. I began cooking. First of all the cooking in and of itself carried me down a path of self discovery that there is now no turning back from. However, it is the Portuguese cooking that finally “brought me home”. There is something magical about food that creates special aha moments in your life and I have to say that it has definitely given me more than my share. And which food was it that changed my life? Fish of course. ☺ Fish is a major staple of Portuguese cuisine, and my parents come from the Acores islands, so it is pretty much in my blood.

I happened across some sea mackerel as I was roaming around the central market one day and after leaping around the isle in glee (much to the dismay of the fishmongers) I bought myself 2 and proudly carried them back home. For those of you who are not familiar with sea mackerel, or Cavalhas in Portuguese (or Caballas in Spanish) they are sort of like very large sardines. The flavour is fairly similar. Because it is an oily fish it is chock full of flavour, so what we often do is simply grill it. Add a bit of sea salt, a few fresh onion rings and some parsley and you have a dish fit for Neptune himself. Absolutely spectacular. So I cooked this meal and everyone was smitten. (Not with me, with the fish…okay maybe a little with me… ☺ ) Such a simple dish, yet so full of flavour. And this is the really the essence of Portuguese cooking. Food that is simple, unpretentious but full of flavour. Just like it’s people ☺

After this life changing gastronomic experience I began devouring books, internet articles and sites on everything that was Portuguese food. I began reading on the different regions, the customs, the people, the ingredients, you name it. I watched movies, programs, anything and everything that had Portugal and Portuguese food in it. And little by little, like the size of the Grinch’s heart when he discovered Christmas, my Portuguese pride grew and blossomed. I realized that this was a fundamental part of who I am, I was raised Portuguese, and although yes, I functioned in a Canadian culture, my essence and foundation, my blood is 100% Portuguese. I am a unique mix I would say, but the latin part is what prevails overall. ☺

So in celebration of this new found reconnection with myself, I will be writing parts on the blog dealing with Portuguese cuisine and the country itself: The Portugese Diva Chronicles, and share with everyone the beauty, culture and experiences of Portugal.

(Note: photos above are of the island of Sao Miguel, in the Azores where my parents are from)

A Closing

"We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be."
May Sarton


As I sit and write this I am sitting in a train amongst snow covered fields and trees and just beginning to thaw out from the day out in the crisp winter Canadian air. Yes, I am back visiting my stomping ground. And as with each visit, it has been yet again an interesting experience. (However by the time I post this I will be back in sunny Argentina) :)

This time I came up to visit for a month, right smack at the beginning of the coldest time of year. I am thinking that my brain may have been slightly fried at the time of this particular decision. I was originally missing the snow at Chrismtastime, and had visions of jolly snowmen, christmas lights shining brightly against the crisp white snow, sleigh bells ringing,… you know the regular stuff that holiday carols are made of. There was something just very wrong about Santa in a bathing suit, and let's not get started on that visual… I however forgot one thing: IT"S COLD. I am without a doubt, latin blooded through and through I used to sing the praises of the wintertime, enjoy frolicking in the snow like a baby seal, and just revel in the beauty that the winter would bring to the land. At this particular moment I am thinking I must have been insane. Just the thought of anything under minus 10 C sends me fleeing back under the covers in the morning for just 5 more minutes of cosy warmth. Yes, it has really happened, the Canuk has been beaten out of me. Yet despite all of this I know that I will most likely come up with this deranged visit again because of my love of Christmas festivities in a winter wonderland. :)

All of my complaining of the cold aside though, it has been a very transformative experience, and I believe that there is a particular significance that I ended up spending the beginning of a new decade here. My last three years in Argentina have been an amazing journey of self discovery and I feel blessed that I was able to embark on it. The result? A new aspect of myself has blossomed and I have come into my own. To quote a popular mantra, " I am". This isn't to say that I am finished, not even close. But now as I continue moving forward with my life I am more confident than before that I am making decisions based on what is best for me.

We closed a decade this past New Year's, and for me personally it has been an important one. I began the decade in a very different life, living it through the eyes of a young woman who was just at the brink of her journey of self discovery and living life based on other people's dreams and expectations. As I walked through my hometown of Kingston and my long time home base of Ottawa, whispers of this young woman echoed softly as I passed old haunts, memories flooding me like gentle waves on a lakeshore. A favourite cafe here, an old workplace there, even my favourite willow tree along the Ottawa River that on so many an evening I would climb up into and sit perched watching the sun set along the water. Memories of the daily joys at discovering some hidden aspect of myself that I never knew existed either through new found pastimes, conversations with close friends, or just time spent alone in contemplation. And then the angst. The angst that comes with these revelations, as I slowly began to discover that decisions I had made were not necessarily a reflection of who I was. So then comes the change. The changes necessary to have my outer life coincide with the inner. Step by step I made the changes I felt were important to create a life that was about me.

One important lesson that I have learned throughout this process is that no one can tell you what is the right or wrong path. Many people will always have an idea of what you should do, whether it be a mentor, guide, friend, co-worker, acquaintance or family member. Yet at the end of the day they are not you. No matter where they are pulling their information from, they are not you. They are giving you advice or information shaded by their own perspectives and experiences. Even a psychic is not fully detached from this. You are the only person who has full access to what is your life. You are the only one who fully understands the journey that is specially yours on this planet. You are the only one who each and every day is there with yourself going through each lesson, joy, sorrow, passion or what have you and moving forward from each experience. No one else has that insight into who you are and how these experiences are shaping your perspective on life. Places, people and things come into your life for a reason. They are there to provide you with learning. And what you glean from that is how you begin to shape yourself, and thus influence your decisions. I have learned that there is no right or wrong answer, no right or wrong path. Each and every one is just another experience and the more you are aware of who you are the easier it is to choose the best one for you at that particular point in time. As a friend of mine recently quoted in one of her own posts, "all roads lead to Rome."

At the closing of this decade, as I walked through the familiar yet unfamiliar streets, I both unconsciously and consciously closed a very important chapter in my life. I felt myself going through an internal battle and questioning everything in my life. It was an interesting process, as I was thrown into an old environment that brought with it old patterns and old fears. The ghost of a person I used to be facing the new one, swords drawn waiting to see which one would triumph. And it was a good experience. My new self one out. I have no regrets. I now have a new crossroad headed towards me and I am ready to meet it, confident in who I am and what i want and don't want.

There is a poem that a dear friend gave me at the very beginning of my self discovery journey that I have kept with me and sought out many a time when I felt lost and not sure what direction to take. In fact, I would say that it was this poem that sparked the whole journey in the first place. I will close this post with it, and I hope that it will provide a source of inspiration for some of you as it did for me:

The Man in the Glass


WHEN YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT IN YOUR STRUGGLE FOR SELF

AND THE WORLD MAKES YOU KING FOR A DAY

JUST GO TO A MIRROR AND LOOK AT YOURSELF

TO SEE WHAT THAT MAN HAS TO SAY


FOR IT ISN’T YOUR FATHER OR MOTHER OR WIFE

WHOSE JUDGEMENT UPON YOU MUST PASS

THE FELLOW WHOSE VERDICT COUNTS MOST IN YOUR LIFE

IS THE ONE STARING BACK FROM THE GLASS


HE’S THE ONE YOU MUST PLEASE- NEVER MIND ALL THE REST

CAUSE HE’S WITH YOU CLEAR UP TO THE END

AND YOU’VE PASSED YOUR MOST DIFFICULT, DANGEROUS TEST

IF THE MAN IN THE GLASS IS YOUR FRIEND


YOU CAN FOOL THE WHOLE WORLD DOWN THE PATHWAY OF YEARS

AND GET PATS ON THE BACK AS YOU PASS

BUT YOUR FINAL REWARD WILL BE HEARTACHES AND TEARS

IF YOU’VE CHEATED THE MAN IN THE GLASS.