#5 - you should wear some flowers in your hair

San Francisco, 30/04/09
Bakery accross from "The Vesuvio", North Beach
Day 7

I really like San Francisco! And I am actually enjoying myself on my own. too bed for that pessimistic beggining.

Tuesday things were not goign so weel: stuck in the most uninteresting part of the city. But then I met my host, Veronica. And she was nice and talkative and so helpful. Her neighbourhood (Mission dolores) is beautiful and she lives in a Victorian apartment. (...) We went to an Indian restaurant for dinner and she showed me around the Castro, near her place. Nice neighbourhood. (...). But really "gay-male-porn" culture... jusging by the composition and beahviour of the crowds and the windows of local shops and businesses. (...)

Yesterday didn't start very well either. I got all excited and, after breakfast, went straight to Haight-Ashbury (note of editor: the center of all 60's counter culture in the city and my favourite intersection for 8 years). AT 9 AM. Not much activity, empty streets and a couple of people asking for change and looking unpleasant. I saw Janis Joplin's place but it didn't have any sign or mark. So i sadly headed to golden Gate park. The "hippie hill" which I recognised from old black-and-white pictures was inhabited by a handful of homeless people. Later i got to know, it only gets properly "hippish" on weekends. At the time i was just disappointed. I dealt with it: the sixties were 40 years ago, the 80's did a lot of damage and I had to just face it. I was looking for something that was gone.OK.

But Golden Gate Park didn't help. it was exhasperating. It was long and there was no one around exept for the boring touristy spots. so I walked and I cried and I got lost and I got so desperate and regreted doing thsi on my own. A couple of hours of mental ranting followed.

Anyhow I decided to go to the beach. I grossly underestimated the lenght of the park and ended up walking for 2 hours or so. (...) i finally saw the Ocean but I was tired and a bit scared. I didn't know what to do in that empty residential street. so I took a bus. ok, it was the wrong direction, but I got off and got on the right one some seconds later. I think that bus was a statement. Yes I can.

(...) I got to fillmore. Iw as hungry and so I grabbed my first burrito. Apparently they were invented over here. I then walked down Fillmore, passed a sign that said " Harlem of the West Jazz District". A couple of meters later I got it: this was a "black"neighbourhood - everyone was African-American. it was poorer and sketchier than the other areas of town I had seen. and it confirmed in my mind that "racial integration" ( it sounds 50's like, but I can't think of another way), in the USA,is far from comlete. Africans and Europeans are the oldest non-native emigrant groups in thsi country. Yet they fail to compare in terms of living standards. And here in America i think there is a lot of that idea that if people didn't mange it was thier fault. (...) that is a flase meritocracy based on a fake liberal framework. Inequality has a reason.

(...) I saw Alamo Square and the Painted Ladies. it started goign very well then. i kept on goign and hit lower Haight. (...) then I explored haight-Ashbury properly, by day. i went into this indian shop and bought a beautiful blouse. there were so many interesting people there and I loved it. Then the people asking for money were nice and called it "change" and i smilled and they smilled back. They seem to be the friedly homeless of San Francisco. I went into a cofee shop with people having tea with a pained acordeon on the table.
(...)

I headed for Chinatown today. It was quite an experience. it was very chinese. And I liked it. A lot of things that I never seen on the shops - like dried /seemingly salted squids. And I went on a bus crowed with exclusively Chinese people - the realistic "China experience"? (...) Saw lombard Street - which seems a joke! - And went to City Lights - the beatnik bookstore. It was magic. it was also next to the Vesuvio (Jack Kerouac's favourite café and symbol of the beat generation). Which i couldn't get into because I was not 21. FML, Filipa , that's me.

oh people arounf this park I am sitting now in look great. Like 60's San Franciscans.

(...) i went on the acble cars a lot today. Love them! it seems there are little rules for them. You can just hang there.

Filipa

#4 - "if you're going to san Francisco"

San Francisco, 28/04/09
Random Strabucks in Downtown SF
4:00PM

Day5

So, I arrived this morning to San Francisco and I have been going around the downtown area with my heavy bagpack. I had to stop because, although I am only meeting Veronica, my host, in one hour, my shoulders hurt badly from carrying the weight and I can barely feel my legs. Yes, lovely first day in San Francisco... Not quite as glamorous as predicted.

The last day in Portland was quite lovely. I went with Conny and the dogs to Mt. Tabor Park. An old Volcano on the east part of the city. (...) I got to know that Portland is not such an "integrated" city racially as I had been told. Inequalities and likeliness of police brutality make part of the difference. I was told some people don't have health insurance, many were now fired and the situation is getting more and more complicated. We drove through old town and saw many many homeless people. I am getting more and more shocked. San Francisco isn't any better. It just has really touristic areas. I still need to find more about things here.

(...) the train was interesting (Portland - S.F.). The trip itself was beautiful. I got to see the Cascade Mountains, with snow and fog, and then wake up in the sunny fields of California. First person. This boy, whose name I didn't get to know. Red hair and black t-shirt. (...) the conductor thought we were together and hence our little (and very promising) chat all the way to the coach. (...) But then he was assigned a seat somewhere else. I was told later that they try to assign females with females, males with males.

1- slightly discriminatory
2- slightly old-fashioned
3- completely preventing "Before Sunrise" situations!!!

I sat next to a lady called Jena, from Eugene. She told me such nice things about the city, that I wished I had bought the stop there! She told me about her life and her daughter who got so wise just living on her own. She told me about Colorado. I should see Golden and Bolder. She told me about trips in her youth and I started to realize that John was right. Americans do move much more than Europeans. She got off at Eugene. I remember her big blue eyes. She was once very beautiful.

Then I met Lucinda and Jonathan. Lucinda was the old lady sitting accross the aile, with the pink blanket. She came all the way with me to Emeryville. One of the few. The train was almost empty by that time. When we arrived in California she started pointing out things to me and telling the story and history of the San Francisco Bay area. She was really lovely and told me about her children and how she raised them on her own. Her daughter went to Reed and Yale and her son loves to travel. She was quite proud and I thought she had every reason to be.

Jonathan was this strange speeded up guy from Tasmania. Ok, living in Tasmania, but American. Travelled a lot. (...) He was always drinking energy drinks, hanging around with slightly drunk people and looking at my knitting. He noticed all the little things I did. Like touching my earing or my nose. Annoying. Talked a lot but did not like him much. Too much of a joking/not funny type.

(...) I have seen Pier 39 and the downtonw area of the Finantial district and Civic Center. I took the little cable car. But I got off a couple of stops before Civic Center by mistake. It was scary. it was this bad part of market street that had so many homeless people and "porn-shop" type of places... I rushed back. Maybe I shouldn't be afraid. But I am, and part of it is also because I do not know how to deal emotionally with this. I don't know how to react to what seems to be the "normality" of American cities. There is a lot of urban poverty in this country, more than at home, where I already thought it was bad. ( ...)

interesting things about Sf so far:
- I saw Alcatraz. It looks like a hospital and people pay 26 dollars to go there. not interested.

- I also saw the Sea Lions at Pier 39 in the morning, when the place was empty and it was just me and them.

- The cable-cars are awesome recreations (or originals??) of old SF one and also one from Milano.

- nothing 60's 'till now. Nor victorian houses. Hoping for that tomorrow.

-Golden Gate amd Bay bridge are beautiful. it is really sunny and the views are great. it is cold, but I am surviving.

Filipa

3# Portlanders and bookstores

Portland, Sunday, the 26th April 2009
Day 3

(...) I bonded more with my hosts and actually enjoyed couchsurfing by itself.
(...)

I went to the Hawthorne district in the morning. Looked at bizarre ( I love this word today) shops, went into book stores and found myself starting a letter over a baggel. (...) After that I came back and went with my hosts, John and Conny, to a concert where john was playing Sax. It was very veyr enjoyable ( a choir and a jazz band, very great combination!). (...) Then we went to dinner at their neighbour's place. They were all so welcoming and eager to talk baout so many things! I always end up tlaking about Portugal, but i guess that is only natural.

exciting things besides the day's story:
- They have wine and beer in supermarkets in Oregon!

- They don't care about ice hockey here

- The neighbourhoods around here are amazinhg because epople really know and care about their gardens

- purple was a popular colour for houses in Victorian times

(...)

Filipa

#2 - Portland

Portland, john and Conny's spare bedroom
Saturday, the 25th April 9:00 PM
Day 2

It's been a long long day and I am now lying down in my bed at John and conny's (my couchsurfing hosts). I managed to reach the place by taxi yesterday at night, after rushing out of the train station, which weirdly closes right after the last train arrives. The taxi driver said it was because of the homeless. "The Shame of America!" was what he called homelessness. I start to agree.

(...)

Remarkable things during the day in chronological order:

- on the bus to Portland downtown I saw (and accidentally was on the way of) a man who was so fat he had to move on a wheel chair.

- I went to what they call "park blocks" and bought bread ata farmer's market. On theway I saw many beautiful churches with strange names. "The first Christian Church" or... " The Sixth Church of jesus, the Scientist"...ok...

- I met Marie! It was so good to see her. (...) We went to "saturday Market" and to powell's- the best bookstore ever and a good rival to the Paris ones! (...)

- I met Daire too! I actually walked to Reed College and had dinner there with him (...). It Reed is amazing! such a a beautiful cmapu! And they have all these traditions and community spirit... I really love it. (...) And the poeple looked so groovy! (...) I loved the tour, and the library , and the students... It all looked just awesome.

- Portland: nice, filled with alternative stuff and trees. Activism too. One guy stopped me to inform me about the situation of wolves in Oregon and chatted for a while. There are a lot of homeless people though. Here they are not so much in ghettos. (it seems) Rather there is one in every corner. Quite sad and not friendly-looking (I must say).

Filipa

"This was the Summer of '09"- The start

Seattle, King Street Amtrak Station
Friday, the 24th April 2009
4:00PM

DAY 1

USA. The united States of America? Still does not sound right... The USA are not just a distant myth but the land I step on ..now! Takes getting used to. Reality.

(...)

After moving in from residence with all the stress and effort involved, I went to stay at my aunt's place. It was sort of relaxing, kind of "deep breath before the plunge". i still asked my mother on the phone if everything was goign to be alright. Not to self: make sure to increase level of confidence.

(...)

This morning I took the Skytrain to Main Street to catch the bus which took me to Seattle. A huge man sat beside me and kept starting to fall asleep, waking up startled right after. he explained to me he had 3 jobs and loads of kids (?) at home, that he had only slept only 3 hours in the last 2 nights, etc. yep, life is though... "Do you have kids?", he asked, after asking me if i was going to work too and obtaining an embarassed negative answer. "No". "Oh, you'll have 2!. I beg your pardon?? "You'll have 2 kids, i cna see your future." Great, I thought, how encouraging.

(...)

Things I noticed on the highway aftre the border:
-loads of Americna flags
-the kid I saw by the road just a couple of minutes aftre the border
-loads of lanes and traffic getting into Seattle

(...)

We arrived earlier than predicted over here, so I took a 20 min walk. (...) A lot of not very friendly looking characters... One guy with his girl-friend just went "Watch where you're goign, lady!" and then turned (10 seconds after) and appologised for sounding mean. I handled it with poise and grace. But Seattle looks very pretty, prettier than Vancouver, with brick squares and guardens.

TRAIN 8PM

Less than an hour to Portland. I am still in Washington. I have been seeing the forests and swamps out of the window. I saw a tree with half pink and half white flowers. I also saw my first (very) obese Americans. I saw young guys by the bars in the small towns. And I am imagining what it must be like to live here, in a smal place in Washington, USA. Don't take me worng, the place is beautiful. But these little townss seem to have such a bleak existence by the side of the rails. Maybe they just look bleak.

I look out, at the road. and I see 4 pickup trucks at the same time.
HELLO AMERICA!

Filipa

The Comeback

I have no excuse. I have been home for two weeks, delighfully reading the usual blogs. Rejoicing in the revival of their activity. Taking intellectual advantage of the work of others on their personal online writing, for my comfort and mental stimulation. Ah! The guilt, the guilt. ...


Let us start in the beggining. After my last post I went to my aunt's place, in a suburb near Vancouver. After 2 days I took a bus to Seattle, there I took a train to Portland. I stayed there for three days, couchsurfing with a really nice couple.

Then I took another train and got to San Francisco. Had 4 days of dream-like reality there, couchsurfing with a woman who lived in the Mission area (the historically Latin-American neighbourhood and home of the burrito) in one of the lovely Victorian houses. After that, I took a train back to Vancouver, got stuck in California for 9 hours due to a derailment, ended up getting on a bus and getting in at 5 or 6 AM in the morning.

After two nights in a hostel, meeting bizarre people and wondering around Vancouver city center, I went to stay with some friends who kindly took my homeless (and angry-at-myself-for-not-having-planed-things-at-least-a-little-bit!) self, in. I spent a week there: hiking somewhere near Squamish, and hitchhiking with one of them around Vancouver Island. We wanted to go to Tofino, ended up in Uclulelet (is that how it was spelt?), a little bit south. Then got the best ride ever from a retired English Professor to Victoria.

Next morning I got on a bus. I had bought a bunch of tickets on a hurry and slight alarm at how much it costs to buy bus tickets not-in-advance in Canada. First stop: Penticton. Small warm town by the Okanagan lake. I stayed with a family with three North American teenage girls (you get the cliché picture?). Next: Kelowna, the big Okanagan metropolis (right..). Three days of hell in a small little strange Western-looking town. All great views, mountains, tourist attractions are only acessible by private car. Mental state: close to insanity in a lonely hostel room. Then, Vernon, the last Okanagan stop. Smaller, more Western-looking. No couchsurfing, no hostels. So, I spent my emergency money on an expensive motel. Went to Kalamalka lake.

Then Nelson, on the Kootenays, further east. One word: GREAT. After 3/4 days, I got on the bus again and went to Alberta. Calgary was my 5 hours stop and my 4 hours stroll in the cold. Had to buy a sweatshirt because it was -4ºC and snowing. Do laugh. It is almost absurd.

Final stop: Banff in the Rockie Mountains. One day of hiking won me over, despite the tired feet and buzzing head. I ended up just staring at the valleys and mountains for some 30 min straight. My mind was clear and I was free like a bird.
Or just really exhausted.

After that, 12 hours in a bus, in the Trans-Canadian Highway, brought me back to Vancouver. It was a beautiful journey, but I was glad to be back. I spent a weekend at a friend's and a week at my aunt's. Plane and... voilá. Europe, Portugal champagne and cake!

So, this is the backbone of the story. The thing is, I kept a journal. I wrote about everything that happened, with details and all. I recorded the feelings and the impressions. I wrote everywhere: on buses, trains, benches, rooms, cafés, streets and churches. I somehow knew this was going to be memorable.

After all, this was a celebration of my new life by the Pacific. Of having money in the bank and legally renting a house. One month of challenging new sights was in order. Besides, I needed to clear my mind, to be alone all this time. To realise how good and how bad it can get inside my head. I needed to meet strangers. Tell them all my problems (I literally did, many times), hear all their miseries and share moments of pure human empathy. I needed to exchange numbers and see mountains. To dance in the streets of some small town and run down singing, down the hills of San Francisco. I needed to know more about Canada, about the States. I needed to test myself and ... I guess I did. It might have been only a month. But it was more than worth it.


Life at home is not extremely eventful. But it is very pleasant. I spend my days baking bread (I am getting better and better), making jams, eating peaches and tasting different kinds of wine. I have already done a Victorian bright-green shawl and I am almost done with my big blue sweater. Besides knitting, I have also read like crazy (Jane Austen and Henrik Ibsen) and I decided to complete my never ending UWC scrap book. I am going to start my driving lessons (theory) on Monday. That should be... amusing? Well, I need to get me some wheels. Or at least know what to do if I get some.

Meanwhile, I think I should type my little scriblings fromt he last month. a little "series of post" in retrospective. A selected "best-off" of the almost 200 pages of text.


P.S. my latest obsession: The Puppini Sisters. I think it has to do with my ever-lasting passion for red lipstick and silky gloves.

packing: the show is moving on south

It is 11 pm on Tuesday night. Tomorrow I am leaving this room. As I look around I stare at blank walls, boxes, messy bits and pieces of my life. I try to save some of them, in my endless hunger for the future, for that woman that will, one day, look at all those receipts and pieces of evidence and remember how it felt to be me.

My headache is clearing, thanks to that aspirine. But I find it quite nice to write like this. Feverish, lost, utterly confused. The moment is right. And I have not done it for a long time.

How do I feel about Vancouver? About this year, this life, or version of it? I still do not know. Often I hate this creature that seems to be unable to find some normality and stability. She changes moods, opinions, rooms. She should really get a home, a man, a closet and a dinner table. Then I become very proud. She has so much more. She has herself, her whole self. This year I became a person, a citizen of this world. While I need help, I can do so much by myself. I am a rock, or becoming one. And do not get judgemental...Being an island (with a good port for visiting ships) is admirable.I am impressed, Filipa. That sort of reassures me. I am leaving this city. On my own, on a bus.

I am going down South to San Francisco. I leave with my heart open and my mind hungry. My heart is pherhaps not so completely eager. Many things are daunting. But that is what dreams are like: daunting. I am going to live one. I am going south to fullfil the promisse I made, that day, on the playground of my long gone school. I owe it to myself.

On the informative side. I had very good results for my classes this semester, as far as I know now. I was told that I should keep doing Philosophy. It was very good to hear, I confess. I put my work over potential "relationships" or whatever people call that these days. I faced the choice and I stood firm, as I knew I would. I can't wait to move in to my new suite in September. I am very very happy because my younger sister got into UWC and is moving to India in the Fall. I miss people a lot,but I am very glad goo things are happening to their lives. I wish I will see them soon.

The other day I started thinking of how lucky I am, how great my life has been. The last bad things that happened .... when was it? Things always seem to go right, to got perfect, to get better. I am afraid I cannot handle failure, pain or misery, because I haven't enough. It is quite literally the Spring of my life. And every flower is more and more beautiful. And the beauty is so much that sometimes it feels like I will not be able to see it all, like it is blinding.

I met so many people lately, so many people I am glad to have crossed paths with. Religion is little for me compared to the boundless fullfilment that collecting shining people like this is. That is the meaning of life: to touch and be touched by the wondering elements of the swarm of humanity.


I must write to people. It keeps me alive, and I haven't been doing it enough. I will bring paper and stamps, and books and some clothes. I will enter the US border. Sounds silly, but it does not seem very real. I have this fear they won't let me in, Somehow I will be stuck. Will not happen, just and irrational image created by years of social conditioning and pointless reflection.

Well, I will get back to packing and derived activites. I will probably not write here for a while. I will keep a journal of my trip and I will try to get published here, maybe some excerpts, if anything good comes up.

appologies for such a scattered, tierd text after a long absence.