Why, Why Why?

All washed up on the Iberian Peninsula

“You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself.” - Alan Alda

The first question many of the people I knew back in America asked when I told them I was moving to Portugal was “WHY?” Why give up all you know for so much unknown, so much inconvenience, so much incompetent bumbling with a new language, a new bureaucracy, a new culture. And where is Portugal anyway?

Physics. It was all physics. Old age is when the laws of Inertia collide with the law of Entropy. Move it…or lose it, so to speak.  My lovely wife expressed it as a dread of aging in place, something it would seem best done after burial, no?

Not everyone is a rolling stone; most of us have ties to family, friends, jobs and the culture we grew up with. But when your culture proves to have been a Castle built in the Sky and someone sets fire to it, there is a strong temptation to start looking for other housing options.

Of course, the courageous thing to do with the proverbial Castle in the Sky is build a foundation underneath it (or at least, help put out the fire). But that requires hard work with both a strong back and a strong stomach. When you have made 70 or 80 revolutions around the sun, it’s wise to check how much gas you have left in your tank.

And, here’s the rub, as the Bard of Avon noted. When you look into the abyss, otherwise known as the gas tank of your mortality, it’s often hard to see the bottom.

So why not run away from home? Why not? Most of us at least considered this at some emotional moment of self-imagined childhood trauma. If not now, when?

Dinner last night was a metaphor of our European dreams and illusions. Friendly, flat and reverently Catholic, Braga, the Vatican of Portugal contains many wonders, including the wonderful Taberna do Félix. A cozy eatery radiating an informal shared friendship among the diners. Convivial  conversations drifted between tables and blended with an enjoyable smooth jazz background.

Some have complained that Portuguese food is too bland, uninspiring. NO! Maybe some people have corrupted their tongues with Tex-Mex and too much salt, but the meat and fish here actually have natural flavors not requiring adulteration, maybe just some re-calibration.  The added spice of conversations and accents of France, India, Poland, and Portugal were a savory delight of another kind.

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.“ - Mark Twain.