Yes! We are back! And EVERYTHING CHANGED! And this will be a big big post talking publicly for the first time about it.
*Cuts back to May this year, College finishing, tears and blood*
To hand in all assignments for the end of College was probably one of the most difficult things that I’ve done. I have never had such a big workload on my hands, and this was combined with the heavy feeling of solving my visa around the same time. But I managed to do it (although this only happened because Frank would be ready to make me a tea at any time or yell with me towards the neighbors or throw some beer cans in my general direction), and then we had our end of the year exhibition, that was a magical beautiful night that made me feel like all my efforts were worth it (where I might or might not have gotten super drunk and done the Macarena with my boobs out). Ok, I didn’t do the Macarena with my boobs out.
After this, I took me some weeks of to you know, wash my hair and cut my nails and learn back the human language and eat food that had actually been cooked. Oh yeah, I fed on Doritos for 3 weeks and didn’t die.
But it was then that my Visa started looking way more complicated than it should, and as I was looking for a job, more and more people would put me off the search giving me 4 reasons why their bosses would “never hire a Brazilian again”, or “never give a work permit to someone”. That alongside with the fact that I was looking for positions in the web design industry, started making me feel like a big ginormous piece of bird poop.
First, because I spent a good couple of weeks receiving ‘no’s’ to my face again and again. (Which makes sense, I am not a web designer, I have never been a web designer, I do not want to be a web designer. If you compare my portfolio with any web designer around, he will dick slap me in the face while hopping with one foot on top of a plastic ball).
Second, let’s take into account that I would eventually get said job and yaaayy work permit and this and that! THEN I WOULD HAVE TO WORK AS A WEB DESIGNER. Which, as mentioned above… I hate. And this very idea was making me depressed and draining all my motivation and energy.
This was a very difficult period. We were short on cash, I was burned from the College work, I was tired, I was hardly ever sleeping thinking when would the immigration knock on my door and kick me out of the country. We were not going out, doing food extravaganzas, hardly ever leaving the house (even because Frank was doing a teaching course that would keep him busy from morning to bed time).
Let’s put it this way. Things got so bad that I started playing League of Legends.
And then, one day I was on this very table sobbing over a job opportunity when the an idea fell from the sky as an anvil on my head. What if I consider coming back to Brazil, just for a few minutes and see how I feel about it? And so I did.
And it felt really good. It felt right.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Ireland is a beautiful place, full of magical people and beautiful things. But when we moved here we had this golden dream of “living in Europe”, and suddenly I realized that I was so caught up on this concept that I never stopped to actually evaluate what were the good aspects and the bad things of living here. When I started comparing both, Brazil had just so many positive points I could not believe those things never occurred to me. And this is not because Brazil is a better place than Ireland, but because in my current situation, Brazil is a better place for me to be.
Let’s start with the fact that I don’t need a Visa to do shit there. Have you ever laid your head on your pillow without knowing if in September you are still going to be allowed to live where you live? Or if they are going to kick you out, changing your whole life abruptly. It’s pretty dramatic. Now, being kicked out is only the final and most intense step of not having a proper Visa to stay in the country. But it also affects smaller aspects of your life, for example: I can’t apply for any job that I choose. I have to apply for only Visa Type 2 jobs, that include mostly cleaner, waitress and au-pair jobs (and I hate kids, am clumsy and not really fond of cleaning). I also can’t vote. So I’ve been living here for the past 4 years, yet I do not and won’t in the near future make part of social, local or governmental decisions. I can’t apply for College grants. And if I want to study, as you guys well know, I have to pay waaaay more than any Europeans (take for example the College I just finished: For Europeans? 600€. For me? 4600€ per year. BAM!). And although I have always considered myself an individual pretty detached from these social obligations, always thinking that I’d fit anywhere, it just so happens that it’s very hard and often depressing to live your daily life “not belonging”.
When you think of Brazil, you think corruption and robberies and snakes and monkeys I guess. And that was pretty much the abstract that I had in my head over these past four years when I’d preach that Brazil was a terrible place to live.
But taking a closer look, things are not so shabby over there! Let’s consider this: I don’t need to ask a permit to the government to do things as simple as exist there. I can just do them. And now I’m coming back with such a nice CV, after so many things that I learned and studied here. Brazil has a really nice food and even though we lived in a town with one of the most crappy weathers ever, we still had so many beautiful days. I can do a career there. Try to work with illustration and animation. And even if don’t, I can have a 9-5 job and work in my free time on my illustrations at my nice office table in my comfy apartment. There I have so many good friends. And they are all so happy and excited to have me back. And we used to be together all the time!
And so me and Frank started this heavy life changing conversation, that started with some tears and the feeling that everything had gone to shit and finished with us laughing on the couch, making real plans like we hadn’t done in so much time, consumed by the struggles to stay here. And at a glance we were taking pleasure of thinking of small things, planning how our bedside is going to look like, remembering the possibility of having a barbecue every Sunday, the feeling of being at the boteco eating some shite food and having a beer without the guilt that the beer money should be saved for visa purposes. Traveling to the next town to visit your friends or family. Having shrimps by the beach. Saving money. Having comfort. Enjoying the pool. And we were so happy there. We were happy the way we have never been here. Not because Ireland is evil and sad, but because we have been struggling here since the moment we arrived, because things weren’t to be with us. And we did definitely have a magical experience here and we studied, and we learned things and we made wonderfull friends (I’m looking at you Cian, Hannah and Robbert, you guys don’t think you’ll escape some Skype Werewolf!). We will never forget Ireland. And we will never forget these beautiful years. And I will never forget the miles Hugo and Kerrie went to make me stay. And I will never forget that my best friend Bryan lives here. But our time has come. And I’m very comfortable with this idea.
And now I’m feeling happy and light and life is fun and delicious. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. Isn’t that crazy?
Here I am. And I will keep posting, even though a small pause might happen during the moving out thing.
I am really glad to be back. If you guys would think I was funny when I was sad and depressed, imagine now that the sun is shinning outside.