Tag: Ponta Delgada
-
Bom Apetite
If I had it all to do again I would have started a cheese diary on my first day in Portugal. I don’t remember which ones were which now, but if you like cheese, and you find one from the Azores, buy it, consume it, delight in it. I liked most of the Portuguese foods I…
-
Don’t Go Too Fast, but I Go Pretty Far
There wasn’t any hour that the Metro, or Lisbon in general, felt unsafe to me as a woman traveling alone. It was bittersweet how completely at home I felt on the Metro by that last train ride out of Lisbon.
-
Hear Me Roar
There is a sensuality in Correia’s writing that might give the impression that women are capable of enjoying sex. This is apparently an unlikely and uncomfortable thought for some men.
-
Unimaginable
Sometimes, just when I think things can’t get any darker, they very much do. I was on a work phone call in the backyard when I heard a woman wailing, “no, no, no, no…” It didn’t sound real, like that sort of intensity had to be from a movie being played too loudly somewhere.
-
Nevermind
These connections– the meaning of Nirvana, these men who ended their own suffering with guns, the dead men I don’t have to call on Father’s Day, aided by the black clouds of grief and isolation in my Ponta Delgada home all tangled together into dark poetry that June.
-
Big Feelings
I’m going to pick the Etta Jameses and the Chavela Vargases and any other artist who can put their feelings into my soul. Every. Single. Time. I have big feelings and I want art that can match that magnitude.
-
Bom Dia!
It had become my neighborhood, and I was overjoyed to participate in my new community, even if that was mostly by greeting people like the untrained labrador retriever that I am in the depths of my soul.
-
The Rooster
I was there long enough and involved enough, that I can’t help but feel some affiliation- like Portugal is partly mine and I am partly Portugal’s. There are symbols of that place that I greet like old friends now. I’m so happy to see them, even if they make me a little homesick for a…
-
A New World Woman in an Old World Town
If, as Billy Joel says, “Los Angelenos all come from somewhere,” the Azores are the bookend, a place where everybody has gone or is going or is missing someone who has left. Those islands are shaped by emigration as much as California is by immigration.