... if it wouldn't be home to the ones we love."

No, it wouldn't Mr Hawkins. No, it wouldn't.

First time I heard it I thought this record was 30 years old. Turns out it was a 2016 soul shake. 

From the muddy, hopeful blues of "My Way Home" to the electrifying "The Strangest Thing" Reed combined Soul, Gospel and Blues in such a beautiful, refreshing revival the whole album will lift your spirit. 
It did to me.

(...) I'm sorry. Today's brain space has been hijacked by random memories of all the stupid things I've said or done in the past 15 years.

Thank you.

A few days ago I had to fill some forms for professional matters and I came across a question about social skills.

After briefly thinking about it, I realise my social skills include:

- Telling inappropriate jokes in awkward situations;
- Laughing when I shouldn't laugh;
- Enthusiastically saying hello when introverts walk into the same elevator and terrifying them with lively small talk for at least 3 floors;
- Naively pointing the elephant in the room when everybody is avoiding it;
- Asking the waitress if the chocolate mousse is homemade only to turn it down when they proudly confirm it;
- Saying "you too" when the stewardess tells me to enjoy my flight.
- Asking the 14 year old kid who is trying to mug me if he is old enough to be drinking.


Yeah. I don't foresee a very bright future ahead of me.

I just used two fingers to scroll on paper. It didn't work. Stupid paper.

"(...) but it wasn't because I didn't know enough,
I just knew too much."

 

A few days ago I've read on the news that some guy would kill people, by shooting them, asphyxiating them and then slitting their throats.

I'm like, dude, pick one thing.

Yes. We've seen this recipe before.
And yes, this movie might be an audience pleaser.
But Hidden Figures tells the extraordinary story of three remarkable women at NASA, who carved a pioneering path not only to their gender but to African-Americans in an era of racial segregation.
Beautiful, uplifting and heartwarming, this movie is an assertion of humanity.
A must-see.

Remember that feeling when you were a kid and you'd sit on your parent's foot and wrap your arms around their legs so they had to try to walk with you sitting on it? That's every 2 brain cell American right now with Obama.

Hamilton Leithauser & Rostam - '1000 Times' from One Thousand Percent on Vimeo.

(the whole album is actually really good. Definitely worth your while.)

That moment when you're too busy doing things late at night and you realize you haven't eaten.
Then you think: "I'll just grab something from whatever is open".

That's what I call a wurst case scenario.

Sony announced yesterday The Last of Us Part II, the sequel to Naughty Dog’s 2013 shooter that got 10/10 on most gaming press reviews.
Joel and Ellie are back, and from the look of it, this time Ellie will be the starring role.
The creative idea behind the reveal trailer is incredibly powerful.
If you've played the first title, you'll quickly understand the blunt humanity behind this sequel: The Last of Us was a story of love. Part II is a story of hate.

(and if you don't know, Ellie is singing Through the Valley by Shawn James) 




(my hype levels just went through the roof)

1. 7am. You walk out naked  to your balcony to grab the underwear you left outside to dry because the sun finally came out this summer;

2. You raise your head and notice to all your horror that your Japanese neighbour is seating in the balcony in front of you.
3. Although he clearly saw you, you urge to hide back inside and in the process drop a couple of your undies out of your balcony and into everyone's backyard.

4. Half an hour later you walk down to the backyard to grab your bike and your undies and your 60-year-old landlord is standing there. He raises his hand holding your red lace underwear and asks you if those are yours.

5. You turn the same colour of the undies and because your immaturity is an AK-47 shooting in all directions you say no and leave immediately.

6. You come back home after work to find your underwear collection hanging on the staircase wall. 

7. You wish yourself a happy Monday.

...there are more than 300 ways of saying "drunk".
And only one way to get rid of it.
Hello, hangover.

A few weeks ago, my friend A. was struggling with a broken heart. My friend N. couldn't understand why some guy stopped writing her. It's true. We've all been there. Forgetting someone is hard. It's fucked up. Let's say it clearly. It sucks balls trying to forget someone who danced Vprisyadku on top of your honest heart. And it seems that everyone has an opinion concerning people who screwed up our lives: from the most conservative, proper ones, to the dubious bipolar shit it's wrong even to think of.
So, because I'm always willing to provide valuable public service, here's a compilation of some advice I've heard about, with a pinch of Vio. 
Of course to make this exercise easier, we'll pretend that it's always the other part's fault. 
Let's go.

... when leaving your parent's house you point your car keys to the door and expect it to open.

Dear God,

I'm dazzled with all your prodigal Marketeer sons who managed to convince the world that everything tastes better with random dehydrated fruits.

But now, in all seriousness, could you please help me have a bag of Muesli without having to pick out the raisins?

Amen.

If your dark side was a song.

A friend of a friend asked me to do the logo for his family business. After I've sent him an estimate with a (very) friendly price, he calls me back and says:

Him: My wife thinks you're too expensive, and that we could find someone cheaper. But I would really like to work with you. Can we renegotiate the price?

Me: How much does your wife cost you a year? I'm sure I could find you a cheaper one. 

(awkward silence)

Last week I got a pinkeye.
So instead of the usual contacts, I had to wear glasses to work.
I get in the elevator. A peer I know quite well walks in, looks at me and proceeds to adopt typical elevator awkwardness behavior (pretending to be focused somewhere else in that one square meter of metal).

Me: Good morning to you too!
Undisclosed clueless peer: Oh! Hi! Sorry, I didn't recognize you!

.....Waaaaa?

A few days ago I got a sore throat. Hence, I went to the pharmacy where I usually go, next to my place, and I asked for some throat drops.
The guy there, who has known me for a while, greets me good morning and sets off to get them. He comes back, lays them on the counter and says categorically: "You're gonna suck 2 times a day, ok?" Of course, the minute he said this my eyebrow must have lifted with a surprised expression and I got stuck with that face people get when you're having trouble not bursting out laughing but you must keep a straight face.
On the other hand, a light bulb went off on his head right after the words came out of his mouth and he looked amusingly distressed.
Me, proud owner of a rather distasteful humor, returned: "Starting now?"

And that's how you manage to never be able to set foot on a place again.

Since I'm now back from my volunteering experience, there is no higher noble cause anymore to save this blog's reputation from what it used to be. So expect just the usual sarcastic stupidity my portuguese readers are already familiar with.
On this matter, I would like to express an honest special thank you to the 28 portuguese speaking followers that I don't know, but who have choosen to waste their precious procrastination time to read this humble blogger. I hope you speak English and stick around.
I would also like to offer my insincere apologies to everyone I might have offended in Portuguese with my cynical bluntness before, and to everyone I will still offend in English from now on. I won't let you down. Any complaints you can direct them to my dear parents since they are ultimately responsible for me being in the world.
Vio's planet is on orbit again. You can thank me later.

And so it goes.
At 8:40 in the morning I was touching down in Frankfurt, 18 hours after leaving Cambodia.
I walked out of the plane to a grey, rainy Frankfurt. All of a sudden there were 30 degrees less than what I was used to the past 2 months. Orderly traffic. Clean streets. No loud music. No motorbikes riding in all directions. The ATM is spitting out euros instead of dollars. Nobody is waving or smiling at me. I felt the world spinning for a second before I got a hold of myself.

Three days later, I'm still freezing everywhere, even at home.  I'm drowned in my warmest hoodie. The flowers on my balcony were decimated by a winter I didn't see.

The hardest thing now is first encounters. Everyone is asking me: "How was it?? Tell me everything". And all I can do is smile and mumble something like: "...great". I feel numb and I truly don't know how to explain what I saw, what I experienced. The cold that hit me in the face when I returned is nothing compared to the shock of not being able to communicate. Maybe next week, next month, next year, I will be able to talk about it.

So many times, while I was away, I've found myself thinking what was I doing there, if my help was any worth, if I would change anything or if it would only change me. I think now I can, at least, answer the latter. The privilege of distance is clairvoyance.

Cambodia is a magical country, that grows roots under your feet the day you step on it. Eleven thousand miles away, I still have Cambodia under my skin.

And if there's one thing it taught me, is to be grateful. To smile more often, to laugh a lot, to keep hoping. Life will put on your way a million rocks. Collect them, build a castle. Forgive. Forgive yourself too, if you must. Learn to talk about yourself. Learn to talk to others. Remember words are the most powerful legacy - use them wisely. Be kind. Be mature enough to hear a no. Be strong enough to say no yourself.  Let go. Invite a friend for wine. Jump in a pool at night.

Keep no sorrows.

Life is too short to be small.


(ps- the show will go on from Frankfurt; the pictures are  from my last week in Cambodia. Stay tuned.)

Someone once said that a journey is best measured in friends rather than miles. I couldn't have said it better. I would like to say thank you to Cynthia, Louis, Margaret, Olivia, Isabelle and Megan for sharing the good and the bad along this 9 weeks.
But most of all, for sharing also the life after work. Truth is, you're still an expat in a 3rd world country, and after you finish you work you come home, take a shower and it washes away all the misery, at least until the next morning. And I know it sounds a bit cynical but it's reality and reality is a bitch.

So, for all of this, thank you for the laughs, the tears, the silliness, the drinks and for putting up with my weird fixation for jumping in the pool after hours.

I will see you in Boston, Luxembourg, London, Lausanne and Brisbane.

Krom apa pipea!

Weddings in Cambodia are one of the most important celebrations of Khmer culture. They can last up to 3 days, depending on how wealthy the family is and the new weds will have at least 8 different outfits throwout the event.
For Cambodians having 'Barang'* in their weddings is an honour because it's generally a sign of social status: it's like hanging out with the cool kids back at home. So volunteers at New Hope get invited all the time to join weddings of people we don't really know. I must confess I was a bit hesitant at first, but it actually turned out to be incredibly fun. A Khmer wedding is all about 2 things: food and music. You'll be eating the whole time, dancing even more and because you're white you are an attraction on your own. Everybody will want to come cheer, dance with you, teach you the traditional way of dancing and chat.
If you're joining one, get ready for a lot of alcohol, food, intense heat, dance moves, very loud khmer traditional music, family members singing drunk (yes, just like at home) and lot's of fun.
Many thanks to Kanha and Thearith for the invitation! ♥

*'Barang' was used historically to refer to the french colonialists; nowadays its refers to white people, westerners.