Fuck is fuck! Boat is boat!

For some days I’ve been thinking about what I have being doing with my life (you know... time for some reflection...). Am I happy, am I doing what I want to do or what I think I am supposed to do because I would make my family and friends proud of me? Why have I had all those dreams about Europe and now I am here and things are alright but they are not as magical as I thought they will be? Why do we expect so much about things? What do I want for me? What do I think is the best thing for me is what I really think it is or... you know... that academic discussion... my desires are being shaped by the society or cultural industries or media or all the shit.

So, of course, I don’t have the answers and will never do. But what I can do for know is to try to relax and enjoy this time for myself. At least this time. Because I know I don’t want to waste all these efforts to go back home and think about this time I am living now and ask what I got from it, what I will take from the rest of my life and do not have any answer from myself... I’ve experienced that, I know what it is...


So, for now, and maybe forever, I should (and I want) stop to think about the experiences I want to have and then just live them out! I want to stop to think about what I will tell to my family and my friends back home to surprise and regale them with all the stories to make them proud of me and think all this was worth it, through their eyes, according to their points of view. I better stop thinking about which great and adventurous things I will do in order to have some content to the Djois Club.



So, yep, for now what I want to do is have this time to myself.


All these thoughts make me remember a song. Not popular, maybe just a few people have heard it. It ‘s my cousin’s song. It says....

Sem amigos
Sem paixoes
Sem piadas
Nada pra me incomodar
Sem ruidos, discussoes
Sem risadas
Nada pra me incomodar
So’ os meus v’icios sem compromissos
Hoje o dia vai ser so’ pra mim

And by chance, yesterday I invited Aga to come to my place to watch some movies. My housemate got enthusiastic, she always does when it comes to movies. So, she picked one and she couldn’t have picked a better one: Shirley Valentine!

Shirley Valentine! The brave!

I really recommend the movie, but for now, I can offer some quite inspiering quotes for you:

“It’s funny, ‘I love you!’. Like it makes everything all right. ‘I love you!’. They should bottle it and sell it. It cures everything.”

“The girl who used to be me.
She could fly, she was free
And she wrote all the words to her song.
The girl who used to be me used to go dancing
And I feel she’s been gone too long
I’d like the chance to be
The girl who used to be me.”

“What happened to her?
What happened to Shirley Valentine?
She was still Shirley Valentine for a while. She knew who she was
But somewhere along the way... Shirley Valentine turned into this. And what I can’t remember is the day or the week or the month when it happened, when it stopped to being good. When Shirley Valentine disappeared and became just another name on the missing persons list.”

“Funny, isn’t it? You know, when you’ve pictured something, when you’ve imagined how it would be, it never turns out like that, does it? I mean, for weeks, I’ve pictured myself sitting here. Sitting here, drinking wine by the sea. I knew exactly how I was going to feel. Now, I’m here and I don’t feel a bit little that. I don’t feel at all lovely and serene, I feel... pretty daft actually. And awfully, awfully old”

“Dreams.

They are never in the place you expect them to be.”



“I’ve led such a little life. And even that will be over pretty soon. I have allowed myself to lead this little life when inside me there was so much more. And it’s all gone unused. And now it never will be. Why do we get all this life if we don’t ever use it? Why do we get all these feelings... and dreams and hopes if we don’t use them? That’s where Shirley Valentine disappeared to... She got lost in all this unused life.”



“If, for some reason I didn’t go back home, who would miss me?”

“Yeah, because we don’t do what we want to do, do we? We do what we have to do and pretend it’s what we want to do. What I want to do is to stay here and be Shirley Valentine.”

At last but not at least, THE BEST QUOTE I could get from the movie I also find at YouTube! It’s worth! Believe me!

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=OQZZAPp1HhU

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Fucking Fair/Fear

Originally writing at 2nd Oct








The most obviously post for tonight was supposed to be about the Goose Fair (a kind of Play Centre Park which is the focus of the city now) if I didn’t have this American accent which keep me make fall in tricks language. Just tonight, Aga, my Polish friend, couldn’t understand what I was saying because of my accent.

“Can’t” is not “KENT”, it is “KANT”.

“BUS” is not “Bʌs”, it’s BAS”.

So after an exciting and fun night at the Goose Fair, I run to take the last bus of the night and go home. As I got the bus station, I saw I bus stopped there and the driver outside having a fag. So, I asked him: “Is it the ‘tʌrty five’?”. And he answered emphasizing: “Thʌrty” .




“Again” – I thought – “someone is correcting my accent. I wish it was what was happening. The driver was not correcting my pronunciation, he was telling me that that bus was the 30, not the 35. And I just figured it out 15 minutes later when I realized I have never been in those streets before.



So, I came to him and asked about the Lenton Boulervard. “Lenton Boulevard? Ow...”. My stomach came to the top of my head. And he looked to my lost-scared face and ask just to stay in the bus. He kept driving in this dark raining night and when he got the last stop he looked to the corridor and said: “Ok, it’s just you here”.

Oh oh oh!!!!

And my friends were scared about the rides at the fair!!! They have no idea about what fear means. Would the driver dive me to the Sherwood Forest and kill me there? Would Robin Hood listen to my screams and save my life? Not this time. This lovely driver took another route and drove me home.

Goodness sometimes is more scaring than a rollercoaster.

(the phonetic symbols are not exactly the ones used in the dictionaries).

In homage to Indian guys

Originally writing at 27th Sep

This post is in honour to Krish. Krish is a party student guy from India (yes, I keep attracting Indian people..hehehe...) The first time I saw Krish was at the International Evening organized by the Student Union to welcome the new students. They invited all Freshers to go to a ballroom and offered us some entertainment. I got really surprised how the students were so keen to expose themselves in a not professional theatre show.

Krish was one of these students. He played a guy who was leaving home and saying goodbye to his mother and getting some advice about alcohol, sex and girls. “No girl, Krish, never. Girls just come behind your money”. It was funny especially because of his Indian accent. I didn’t talk to Krish that night but I met him at the street and I could not stop myself and not compliment him for his performance. He was with another girl, Semani, a Nigerian girl who loves Brazil. We exchange emails and two nights later I was sleeping in his flat. (No, no, no... if you are about to ask).

Krish knew I was looking for a place, spending a lot of money in the hostel, so he invited me to stay in his place temporarily.

Thanks Krish! You save me 45 pounds and gave the opportunity to meet Pablo, Marie, Semani and Joy. After these three nights at Krish’s place, finally, I found a landlord who accepted a 4 months contract. (He also has a mental illness – I am being followed by this people).

My new house, a 5 bedroom one, is at Harrington Drive, in Lenton neighbourhood. 25 minutes walk to the University and to the City Centre. I am just in between both. And my neighbours are great! A half French-English girl, Julia, gave us some kitchen utilities such as dishes, glasses, cups, pans and borrow us a hover. She lives next door with more 3 more people. And guess what, one of them is a Canadian guy. I went to her house to take the hover and he said: “ I love your sweater”. I was with my moleton from British Columbia/CA. Yes, I came to England to meet Canadian people, thing that almost didn’t happen when I was there.

Living in a hostel

Originally writing at 27th Sep

During these 10 days I’ve been living in Nottingham, something really surprised me. One night before I left home, I booked a bed in a hostel for me. I had two options but I chose to stay in Igloo Hostel. It was fate! I made the best choice! Igloo is a very welcoming place! Even though everything seemed a little strange in the beginning before I started understanding who was who there (actually, I think it was my emotions, not the hostel).

Magda is the name of the girl who greeted me. A Turkish girl (I guess) very sympathetic. She got surprised when I told her I’m from Brazil – everybody does. “Oh, Brazil! Nice!”. She took me to the mix gender-10 beds room. I was a kind of scared. You never know who you might end up sleeping with (I swear, it is not an excuse!!! hehe). And I was alone, with money, documents, all my luggage. I had to lock everything.

There were a group of Spaniards (4 girls and 1 boy) not very welcoming, an Asian guy who was also looking for a place and a very friendly German guy. Bastin was the first one to start a conversation and the one who made me feel a little bit more comfortable. This French guy explained me that about 10 people are living in hostel, as permanent residents!! There is a Polish girl, Aga, who has been living there for 2 years!!!! How come? Sharing a 10-bed room with different people every day. Imagine: you go to bed with French, Americans and Russians and wake up with Mexicans, New Zealanders and Germans!!! (some would love this!!hehe)

I could not understand how these residents could do it. All of them are workers, so it is not a matter of money. But soon I started to feel that they would become a family. Everybody in the same boat, all by themselves, kind of alone, but supporting each other. They do dinner together, go out together, have different experiences every day when new people arrive from another place. And that is the reason for ex-residents or just guests to come back to the hostel and visit their friends, also the reason that brought me back to the hostel to celebrate Aga’s birthday.

There were about 20 of us all together, eating pasta, drinking a punch, talking and having fun. After that, we cleaned up the kitchen and went partying in a club (these people like clubbing). The place was full of young people in their twenties. During the whole night the DJ played 5 good songs, he’s not really good on this – and, please, respect my opinion, I know what I am talking about when it comes to DJs! But we really had fun, enjoyed the party, danced, the girls kissed each other and me.. Do you remember the unfriendly Spanish guy?... ye, ye, ye...

How to take a bus in Nottingham

Originally writing at 21st Sep

- Find a bus station. Be aware you’re taking the right direction. If you wanna go to the left side, take the right side of the road and vice versa. That1s what I keep saying to my brain. And when you cross a street, do not think, just look in both directions.... too dangerous to wait until you get used to the UK street’s direction.

- At the bus stop, you can have a seat. But take care. The seats don’t always face the streets. So do not sit and keep looking at the wall (as I did). You should keep turning your neck to the street every 30 seconds to see if the bus is coming.

- Take the bus, put exactly 3 pounds (they do not give you change back) in the machine. Never give it to the driver, he will steal it! He’ll give you a ticket. Do not throw it away. I’s one day journey. You got, Djois!!!

Doleira, eureira, libreira or just money belt

Originally writing at 21st Sep

There is something funny about international airports. Everybody’s genital area has a considerable volume. And they really care about this part of the body as it’s a very valuable thing. And to take care of this “wealth” and to check if everything, ok they keep slapping it. I confess I do the same!

The first post

(Originally writing on the 19th Sep )

Ever since I left home and settled myself in my seat on the plane, I’ve been thinking about what I’d write in this post (which I wrote on paper before I created the blog). All the different and funny things that happened became a theme for the post. In my mind, I could even think about the narrative, the best way to tell the events, the conjunctions, I would have to look up words in the dictionary before writing… but by the time I get this BIC pen, I just have one thing to tell you. The best place in the world is the one we can call ‘home’. To quote Dorothy in ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ “There’s no place like home.”

Ok, I just arrived at Heathrow airport (one of the London's airport) and am here preparing myself for the next five hours I’ll spend waiting for the bus which will take me to Nottingham. I know it’s a short and busy time to get familiarised with a place, but still… I’m scared! Everything here is so big! One mistake, you can lose your luggage, your flight, a document, your money. And add to this: NO HOSPITALITY. No understanding you’re not from this place, you don’t know how things work here and especially you are not a native English speaker. So, please, international airport staff, slow down!

And to make things worse, as a sign of my feelings, my throat closed, I was almost completely voiceless and my shoulder felt the weight of so much pressure.

Borders crew
And what about the UK border staff? Nicer than the Canadian ones? No, they are all the same. I guess it’s a prerequisite for these people to not leave their countries ever. They can’t put themselves in my shoes. I can’t forget that albino beluga man at the Canada border saying something I could not understand and screaming at me after I asked him a ‘What’ in an attempt to show him I didn’t understand what he was saying. And he said: ‘Ok, you, girl, can come in to my country. Here you’ll learn how to speak proper English and good manners.’ How would I know that to interpolate someone with a ‘What’ is offensive? Wasn’t he supposed to know that language and behaviour are different from country to country? Bloody whale!

Djois, Djois
The next two weeks will be tough: to find a place to live (I have a room in a hostel for just 2 nights), to register at the university, with the police, to open a bank account, to settle (my)self. I will do it!

But now I am thinking how crazy I am! I booked the hostel one day before I left, I printed the summary of some modules out on the day of the departure, I did my nails in the car heading to the airport! Uh… I fell asleep and my nails turned blue as I slept on the plane, it must have been the blue dye on the seat . Djois, Djois… organize and plan yourself better, baby.

But after said bye to my family and my good friend, cried a little (with a British accent), I decided to enjoy the plane utilities. So I watched a good movie, drank two glasses of wine and tried to make myself home in the four seats which were available just close to me. Not bad. Even though I was expecting to find my Prince Charming right in the plane, at least I got four seats to lie down. (Let’s think positively).

Lisbon
Then I got into Lisbon airport where I spent two hours waiting for the next flight in the wrong gate. But I am pretty sure this mistake of mine was forced by the angels. Whilst I was there I met this strange Italian guy. In the beginning I thought he was from Syria (the main characters of the movie I watched in the plane are from there) or a country nearby it because he really looks like one and also because of his accent. So, he came to me, gave me a punch in my left arm and said: ‘Brazil is here?’ No, no, definitely, Brazil is not here. ‘Yes, yes, it’s here’ – I answered indicating he was in the right gate (so ironic! I was giving information about gates…). I guess he has some kind of mental illness, yes, definitely he was not normal, not exactly a down’s person but for sure someone with mental issues. But he said: “You pretty”. And I was happy with the compliment from a weirdo ( things will get better Djois!) . And for a while my mood lifted. A simple compliment put a smile on my face! Angels, keep playing your holes!