Wind and Mer



In the North of England, there is a very, very, very small city called Windermere. Mer means sea in French and that was what the city was all about, not really a sea, but a lake, “maybe” that is why the city is also referred as the Lake District, who knows? But I can tell you, strong winds and a lake was the essence of the place where I lived for four months.



Little stories, or life philosophies or just a subject to think about (you choose what this sounds like) are better when they start from the begging, so here it goes. My family is made up from all sorts of different people, from all sorts of different places like Brazil, Italy, U.S.A., France… I came up with the conclusion that they just like to travel a lot and they met each other along their lives, maybe the love for travelling is hereditary, but if you do not feel that this passion runs in your blood, still, please, keep reading.



Going back to Windermere. It all started when I had just turned 14 and my mom concluded it was extremely important for me to speak another language fluently, she did not want me to become one of those blinded culturally ignorant persons. So she decided to send me and my sister to an English speaking country and England was the chosen one. My grandpa, who was paying for the trip, did not want us to go to a big city because after the 9/11, terrorism affrights him tremendously.



So there we were, I was 14 and my sister was 12. We were all by ourselves in a city which had only two streets, one to go down to the shore of the lake, and another one, to come back up where the houses and schools were, the city had also a few stores and a supermarket, even though, it was pretty scary, when we had come from a considerably big city of about 2,000,000 habitants on the north of Brazil.



Although I thought I would not survive for that long in such a different place with a freezing climate, a funny language and strange people, about two weeks later I was calling that weird place home.



The language suddenly started to sound just fine, the people showed to be not that strange at all, the weather slowly became routine and I discovered that my school’s cafeteria was the best restaurant I could ever go to. They served mouth watering dishes and delicious little snacks like pain au chocolat, all of them from different nationalities.



Curiously, what I remember the best, was that every morning our headmistress would softly sing “rise and shine girls” and I would actually radiate every time our window framed the most magical “painting” of the ancient mountains in the background and the young clouds touching the lake, like if they were inviting us to go for an exclusive ride to meet the sky.



And that was it, in a blink of an eye it was already time to go back. A mixture of emotions came to me, I was so happy to be going back to Brazil, which is such an unique country, meet my family who I was missing so much, eat the amazing typical food they have there, but on the other side I was blue inside, so sad, because I knew I would miss that place so badly.



So if you are one of those persons who do not really care about travelling, a person that has never left your state, someone that has settled where you are and does not plan to go anywhere. OPEN YOUR EYES. It is important to never forget where you come from and to love your country, which I sincerely do with all my heart, but it is also important remembering there is a humongous world in front of you, just waiting to be discovered. So just go for it, you know if you really want to, you will find a way to do it, travel, learn, experience, love it, because no one else can do that for you and you will be the only one who is missing it.