My flight leaves early tomorrow.
I’ve planned to go to one more Farewell Party to say goodbye to my friends, but
this time it will be my last. I’m already late since I had dinner with my
housemates earlier. I was already a bit emotional when I said my goodbyes
to Zoe and her daughter Ronja. I’m not a crier. Luckily, the party was close to
my place and I walk there in 10 minutes. Even without any alcohol, I found
it extremely difficult to leave the party. Usually at good parties,
I like to meet new people, but for this one, I prioritize and spend the little
time that I have left with my good friends that I feel blessed to have met. As
we talk, we reminisce on our great memories and there is a nostalgic feeling in
the air. I get compliments that make it hard for me to stay strong. I’m
not a crier. In the end, I must be even stronger and leave to go back home. I
couldn’t afford a new flight ticket to London where I’m going to visit my
aunt’s family. I don’t like goodbyes so I try to do it fast. I get too
emotional when I say goodbye to the Czechs. They warn me not to cry
because otherwise, they will too. The whole day had been so emotional that
I can’t help it. We end up crying and admitting our bromance. In a weirdly
emotional state, I try to say goodbye to familiar faces as I walk towards
the front door to leave the party. Some faces calm me down; some just make it
worse. I don’t find everybody but as a manly Finnish man, I find
it too embarrassing to return to the party after expressing my feelings. I wait
outside for my German friend. His trait of being habitually late turns out
to be a blessing ‘cause two of my friends rush outside to tell me that I can’t
leave without saying goodbye to them. As I’ve just managed to collect myself,
the biggest challenge arises. Eventually, my German friend comes and we
leave the party. I’m not able to speak too much on our way back home and he
respects that by talking about everyday topics rather than nostalgic memories.
The next morning, I clean my room, leave two big bags of clothes for the
homeless people and stress about the weight of my luggage because I have no
idea how much it weighs. Fortunately, it is only 20.7 kilograms and I don’t
have to pay outrageously big surcharges.
How did I end up here and why did I
start to write about it now one and half month later? I guess on Monday we had
some kind of international post-Erasmus depression day. It was a domino effect;
people from different friend groups were messaging each other and telling
everyone how much they missed Porto. While I’m scrolling through my camera roll
I understand the impact my exchange had on me. I had already started this post
in May, in Finnish. I was trying to precisely recount my courses, parties,
restaurants, and travels in different cities and countries. I never published
that because I felt like I would forget to mention something because there was
so much happening all the time. So, I apologize to my dear readers that you had
to wait so long for the next post and now it might not be what you expected. It
will not be a narrative, chronological story about my life like the previous
ones. This time it’s an overview of my thoughts.
My English did improve a bit in
Portugal. When I was living there I got C1 on my language test and when I
returned I received C2. My vocabulary in Portuguese was very limited but I
could survive in my everyday life with the basics of the language.
Because of my poor skills in Portuguese, I learned more about the language of
connection. If you share an experience, that experience is your language.
Vuonna 2004 Jose
Mourinhon valmentama FC Porto voitti AS Monacon Champions League-finaalissa
3-0. Ottelun arvokkaimmaksi pelaajaksi valittiin Deco, joka siirtyi kauden
jälkeen FC Barcelonaan. Jose Mourinhon uusi osoite oli puolestaan Chelsea.
Confused? If you speak football, if
you’ve lived in Porto during the time of Mourinho’s, you don’t need to
understand the language to speak the language. But if you can’t understand the
context or the language, you may feel isolated. Travelling is an antidote to
ignorance. Words of Trevor Noah, not mine. From a teacher’s perspective,
being the only non-Portuguese speaking student was a great learning experience.
Belonging to a majority is a responsibility. When I was around my Czech
friends, they spoke English to each other. I did the same
when I had Finnish friends visiting me.
Living abroad highlights the traits
we already have. In my case, I became even more open and sociable. I’ve always
wanted to enrich my social interactions. But whatever is your biggest strength
can turn into your biggest weakness. If you’re too sociable, people can think
you aren’t genuine. Portugal turned some kind of switch on and after that, I’ve
gotten emotional when my good friend moved elsewhere and also while writing
this exact post. If I wasn't proud of that, I wouldn't be telling about it.
After my exchange, I'm more convinced that no matter which city or country I live
in, everything will be alright. What’s even better is that now I know so many
great people from different countries. For sure they will affect my travel plans in
the future.
