Time flies, and today is exactly 1 month in Portugal. I went through a severe cultural shock, and now I am getting myself back.
I was always very emotional and very expressive, maybe even too much. Then, I moved to a northern country, where people don’t show their feelings. After 5 years, I learned to be the same. At the beginning, it was good, I finally became racional and I could think objectively without feelings involved. Later, I became a robot, I stopped feeling anything. I became empty, lost. I forgot what happiness and sadness, excitement and anger, love and hate are. My life resembled a linear cardiogram when the heart stops.
And I came to Portugal. Being here is a big challenge. It’s difficult and easy at the same time. Difficult because I still need to melt the ice inside me, easy because there are so many things which remind me of my happy childhood in southern Russia.
Gradually, I start feeling again, and my senses became strong. There are joy, happiness, excitement, fear… and there is one particular feeling which starts piercing my heart, the feeling that I did not experience for years… It scares me, it makes me so vulnerable. The feeling that sets my racional mind and my sensual heart into bittersweet struggle…