The original title of this entry was going to be Abanicos, Pigeons and Cold Showers, but that sounded more like a shopping list, and didn’t sit well with me.
I moved last night, albeit just down the hall to a new room, but the physical act of rolling the luggage, bags and plants out of one place and into another is still a transfer of residence in my book. As I closed the door on the room that brought me so much peace after the turbulent beginning in the hostel, a wave of sadness washed over me.
The new room is dark, much darker, and I have no view of the water anymore. The small window opens up into a vent of sorts, so I stare out at walls. Strangely enough, I never realised how comforting the loud trains were, and now I find myself initially uneasy about the silence. However, instead of trains and darn warning bells, I have two chatty pigeons to keep me company now. From chugga-chugga-chugga-ding-ding-ding-chugga-chugga-chugga I have graduated to incessant curroooo-currooo-currooo! Man are pigeons chatty! They have no respect for sunset, and like to poke their beaks in other people’s business. No, I didn’t sleep well, new bed and all. In fact, I am walking into a full day’s work with a grand total of less than three hours sleep.
On the other hand, yesterday was the first time I got to use my hand fan again (abanico in Spanish or pamaypay in Tagalog). What a delight to be able to thrive in the warm temperatures after five years in the cold! And once again, I realise how important moving to Portugal has been for my soul. I am rediscovering simple joys that are fundamental components of my roots and authentic self. Some people always have tobacco and lighters in their bags, this FrogDiva never leaves home without a fan, perfume and wearing a frog of sorts. Several eyebrows rose when I pulled out my fan in the office because somehow the air conditioner simply couldn’t keep up, and a colleague complimented me on how I manage to pull it off so naturally. The comment intrigued me, and I was about to say that the roots of the Filipino abanico stems from the Iberian Peninsula to begin with, but I remembered that pearls, like the pamaypay, defines every Filipina. We grow up learning how to use it with dignity and demureness, efficiently and elegantly. Over the years I’ve ditched the demure part, but I definitely retain the dignity of the fan.
In closing, let me share two images I took this morning:
The first is for all those navigating new waters, embracing new beginnings. Regardless of whether you find yourself in a new job, or like three of my lovely cousins who have recently become grandmothers (ahem, we are running with the title glammas in this family, my gals are far too glamorous to be called grandma), the new waters await, new roles, thereby opening up to new people.
The second is something I feel emotionally attached to – there was no spectacular dawn light this morning, but the cloudy blue hour stirred my soul and rekindled a different kind of light that has long been buried. Architecture photography at night.
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