15/04/08…dez!?…scary!?…

Gente, hj eu tô tão feliz que nao tô me aguentando…

Fui pra aula e além de ter conversado um tempão com uma das minhas colegas, que descobri ser da Tunísia, eu apresentei nosso trabalho pra sala e comentei minha redação com o professor sem cometer nenhum errinho. Foi perfeito!!! Mais perfeito que isso, só o A que ele me deu na minha terceira redação. O tema me ajudou  muito claro…falei do meu amor pelo Brasil hehe…eu achei que ficou realmente boa hehe, não sei mereci mesmo o A, mas fiquei feliz do professor ter achado que eu merecia pq ele não distribui mtos As pela sala não…

Vou colar ela aqui no final desse post pra quem quiser ler hehe…os mais ociosos hehe…Daniii, se vc não quiser ler pq gosta de posts breves td bem hehe…

Hoje também eu estava me sentindo muito confiante…acho até q foi por isso que não errei nada enqto falava lá na aula. Sei lá, tive um dia em q senti que qquer coisa que eu desejasse eu poderia conseguir. E agora pouco assistindo o episódio 13 de OTH eu quase tive um outro treco pq o textinho do final falava exatamente disso (by the way, esses episódios de OTH são de matar qquer caboclo hehe… pura emoção…Nathan e Haley tavam fofíssimos nesse…e alguém por favorrrr dá uma surra no Lucas!???? Menino mais indeciso não há no mundo…)

O primeiro treco que tive foi qdo abri a página do blog do Dani e me deparei com a letra da música que voltei ouvindo várias vezes pelo caminho na volta da faculdade: Beat it. O FOB (Fall Out Boy, pros mais desinformados do mundo da música) regravou…mas eu tenho as duas versões no ipod…coincidência??? sei lá…essas coisas me assustam…igual outro dia que pensei na Dani daqui e escrevi um test no orkut pra ela, daí qdo enviei ela tinha enviado um pra mim ao mesmo tempo…loucura, loucura, loucura, como diria Luciano Huck hehe…

Tô morrendo de sono, tá na hora de ir pra cama…pena que o dia acabou…queria mais dias perfeitos como esse, acreditar que tudo está valendo a pena e que eu posso conseguir tudo que sonho 

essay:

Love beyond the borders

Love is a complex feeling that can be manifested in many ways. Love is a feeling that you can have for many people or things, and, as it is said in the movie A walk to remember: “Love is like the wind. You can’t see it but you can feel it.” You don’t touch love; you don’t see love; you are not going to find love to buy in a store; you just feel love. You can love your family, your job, your studies, your boyfriend or girlfriend, or something bigger, such as your homeland. According to The Oxford English Dictionary love can be defined as “a warm affection, attachment”. In the Webster’s Third New International Dictionary, love appears as “a warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion”. Homeland is defined in The Oxford English Dictionary as “the land which is one’s home or where one’s home is”, or in the Webster’s Third New International Dictionary “country of origin: native land”. These similarities in the definitions of both dictionaries shows that these words, in spite of all the other meanings, have these definitions as the most accepted and spread. To love your homeland is to keep a warm attachment and affection for the whole place where you are called native.

It sounds rather weird to think about this kind of love you have for your nation in the same way you think about the love you have for your family. But is a kind of love as strong as another kind, and I affirm this strength because I had an experience that changed my life. Last year, I decided to participate in an exchange program to know another nation (the U.S., where I am now) and to live with a different culture than I had in Brazil. In this program, you live in an American family’s house and take care of children who live there; you also have to study something you like while you are here in the US. You are supposed to be part of the family.

I used to say that I didn’t know if I liked my country because I knew no other. Although I was sure I cared a lot about my nation, I couldn’t affirm this love to myself clearly because I hadn’t lived anywhere else to compare to my land. But now I can say that what I feel for my country is love. It is the same warm affection or attachment I have with all the people that are connected to me, or with all the things that I do which make me feel alive.

My life in Brazil is a fast and hard life. I don’t have a car, and I go to work (give my classes because I’m a Portuguese and English teacher) by bicycle most of the times. I go to my college by bus, and I spent more than 3 hours in it everyday. I have to cook my meals, make my rice and beans, my salad, my omelet, my vegetables, etc everyday, too, but it is unexplainable how better it is to eat rice and beans everyday there. I like to listen to world music, not only Brazilian music when I’m doing nothing on my free time, but it is incontestable how better is to listen to axé, forró, samba, pagode, sertanejo, and all Brazilian music. When I am free on the weekends I meet my friends sometimes just to talk, watch a video or eat something together, but it is so much better to do that in Brazil than do that here in the US. In fact, I don’t go out a lot here because of the weather. I’m completely annoyed by this climate. It is impossible to feel comfortable wearing clothes that you are not used wearing. In Brazil, we don’t wear all these blouses, sweaters, scarves, gloves, etc… because we don’t need to. Our weather is hot and is the best weather for me; it is the one that makes me feel good. Here in the US, I am not myself wearing all this stuff. And how good it is to speak Portuguese my mother-tongue. There is nothing better than speaking in my home language. It is special to speak Portuguese here. It became one of my pleasures when I speak my mother-tongue because I feel like I am near my country somehow. When I remember my life there, I miss it, and we just miss something or someone that we love. There is a famous Brazilian poem by Gonçalves Dias titled “Canção do Exílio” (Song of the Exile) that expresses about this missing feeling; it’s a love declaration to our homeland that he made when he was away from it. In this poem, Dias makes many comparisons always praising the things we have in Brazil and how he misses the country. He says that the birds that sing on the palm trees in our land don’t sing in the same way in another country and so on. He clearly shows us that his love for his homeland is unconditional, such as in these verses: “Do not allow God that I die / Without that I return to it/ Without that I enjoy the wonders/ That I cannot find here/ Without I contemplate the palms again/ Where sabia sing”

Since I arrived here in the US, I feel that even living in a normal house, with a family, working, and studying, I don’t belong to this place. Why is this? Most of the routines I have here are similar to my routines in Brazil.  I speak with all my family and friends almost everyday, and I have made friends here, too, so I don’t feel alone. So why am I feeling so weird?

I guess I know the answer: if you love your homeland, no other land you put your feet on is going to replace the one you have your origin. Brazil is not as rich as the US, but love is not about the money you have. Love is devoting your affection without seeking reward for it. To love your country is to love the people, the place and the life you have there, even if these are not the best you could have. To love your country is to love it living there or beyond its borders. It’s to be proud of saying that you are Brazilian and that there’s no place like home. To love your homeland is to feel that even if it is not the most perfect place in the world, it is the perfect place in the world for you.