Day 15: Last day in Lisbon; saying goodbye to Portugal

This morning, we woke later than we intended, yet nevertheless managed to pack our suitcases, shower, check-out, and eat breakfast, all before the free walking tour was scheduled to start.

Of course, everything is on Portugal time and we ended up waiting for half an hour, only to be told by the hostel staff that while we were waiting, the walking tour guide must have missed us and left without us just five minutes prior.  We were told that if we hurried we could still catch up with the group at a nearby subway station, so we dashed out of the hostel and quickly made our way to the meeting point.

Thankfully, we saw the tell-tale guides with their yellow shirts and ran up to the group, relieved we had not missed it after all.  Our guide was a young and energetic history and art major who has a clear passion for Lisbon and all of its intricate cultural and historical influences.  She took us on a tour of the Mouraria neighbourhood.

The streets of Mouraria neighbourhood

This is another of Lisbon's oldest neighbourhoods.  Historically, even before the earthquake, it was where all the "non-Christians" lived - the Jews, the heretics, the prostitutes.  To this day, it remains a vibrant multi-cultural hub for people from all over the world - India, Pakistan, China, Africa - and our guide excitedly described to us her favourite markets to go to, spots to hang out with friends and grab drinks, as well as pointed out all the interesting architecture, the unique and quirky features of the very small and narrow homes that have been standing for hundreds of years, showing us a hidden palace, and taking us to some of the area's most interesting street art along the way.


Something in her passion and excitement for this vibrant mosaic of cultures, peoples, and histories all layered over each other in beautiful and unpredictable ways gave me a fresh perspective on what it means to be a young person from Portugal today.  Like the woman in the bookstore in Porto who passionately took me around and showed me all her favourite writers, I felt another sort of connection to this girl who was our tour guide.  A reflection of myself, in a way, for I am just as passionate about all the neighbourhoods and layers of culture and history in Toronto as she clearly is about Lisbon.

For there are two Portugals for me - the one of my parents' youth, which they carry with them always and remains alive in their hearts, unchanged, despite the impossibility of them ever finding it again; and the current, modern Portugal, which neither my parents nor I really know.

This trip was a taste of it - I saw so many parts of the country I had never seen; that my parents, or even our passionate tourguide had never seen.  I flowed among the different places and peoples, never quite belonging as either a local or a foreigner.  One foot in each world, I still feel the internal struggle to understand myself as part of some larger whole of this culture, and figure out what it really means to me.

It's an on-going journey, and I know I'll be back many times still.  As our tour ends at one of our guide's favourite viewpoints over the whole city, with the castle clearly visible in front of us, I feel a deep sense of calm.  Usually when I leave a country it feels very bittersweet, for I never know if or when I'll return.  In the case of Portugal, it will forever belong to me in some way, and I know the ties I have will inevitably keep pulling me back over my lifetime.  It's a temporary farewell.

street art painted on ceiling of old archway

Portugal surprised me.  The variety of landscapes and expressions of humanity and the natural world packed into such a small country was fascinating - mountain ranges, wild horses, bustling cities, multi cultural neighbourhoods, people living in ancient stone houses, endless flat fields of olive and cork trees, ruins left by peoples who have spanned centuries, monuments, breathtaking limestone caves and beaches, wild waves, rugged coastlines, boulder-strewn hills, lush waterfalls, gut-wrenching performances of fado, decadent wines and cheeses and fruits, ancient libraries and universities, street festivals; old and new, wild and human, living side-by-side in an intricate balance... it was if I visited a thousand countries, a thousand peoples.

I'll end this final post with a poem I wrote three years ago, after the last time I went.  Even though I learned and saw and felt and experienced more about this country than I ever knew, the words still vividly capture the emotions I feel when I am here.

Adeus, Portugal.  Até a próxima.

***

view of Lisbon and S. Jorge castle