.
I am one of the many pieces that fit in at the restaurant Water and Salt, one of many that make the whole machine work.
But unlike any common machine, the main pieces are made of flesh and bone, and like the good characters of Shakespeare if you tickle them they laugh and if you hurt them they cry as well, and pay attention you don't have to go to Denmark of the dark ages.
Here at the "Água e Sal" you get all that and more, because we are like butter knives constantly being exposed to the buttery events that pull us up or push us down, whatever the odds.
This is a place where sanity and insanity go hand in hand, allowing for a touch of madness and reason to make all the darn thing work.
Dividing the hierarchies, I can start with the management. My sister the owner and the main manager, followed by another sub-manager and then me, the sidekick of the universe. Three sectors follow: - the kitchen, divided by 2 shifts, with lunch and dinner; - the saloon - one double shift for lunch and dinner, with rest intervals; - the cleaning - with double shifts as well. The latter one doesn't give me as much hassle as the rest.
Humanity.
Ever since I discover them with all the subsequent feelings of envy and competition, I knew, that we as a species were condemned to a very agitated course through the rivers of time.
Such is the case of this, our little haven of food.
A word of warning, to you, the eager romantic minds, who foolishly dream of, one day, opening a restaurant of your own:
Eject that thought from your skulls, right now!
Please, perform a self-surgery and remove the dream part that might have put that nightmare-vision there in the first place.
If Hannibal Lecter can do it to Ray Liotta, so can you to yourselves, there is nothing to it. The Chloroform is in the first shelf of the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. I always leave it there, for any such emergency.
It's too late for me, because I am already involved, but there is still hope for you. You don't believe me. Fools, do you want to be just another butter knife in the grand scheme of things!?
I let you know this, opening a restaurant implies, a great skill at balancing the accounts, and you have to be a perfect juggler with the bills, the pay checks, the income and the outcome.
Be prepared to be a priest or at least a good psychologist with a Masters Degree in mind disturbances, to hear and help out all the restless persons that daily come through the office with a middle life crises.
E.g. "the people from the Kitchen refuse to collaborate with us, and we are unable to provide a good service to the customers"
E.g. 2. - the kitchen strikes back - "the guys at the saloon, always come with difficult requests to change the cooking process of some standard dishes, but we can't when we are in the middle of making a storm of requests.. They are unreasonable"
Then there all the little details to resolve everyday, that usually linger because you depend on someone else to resolve them.
The heating system, talk to the landlord maintenance - Good Lord! They are as helpful as bag of peanuts in the middle of the desert when you are fighting hard to get your hands in a cool glass of mineral water without gas.
What do you do to a waiter that does this! See the scenario.
A lady enters into the restaurant, sits at the table and asks with a German accent:
- I want water without gas!
The waiter brings her a glass of vodka and comments with a fellow colleague:
- How can someone drink Vodka at this time of the day!?
Same lady:
- Excuse me! This water tastes strange!
Oh well!
Getting back to butter knives and troubles, the details one have to resolve are so many, with all the routine events (checking up on the products that daily get to the restaurant, making a list of all that is required for the following day, calling the different companies for new orders, controlling the costs, balancing the expenses), just that is enough to drive you mad.
I guess this is something you have to be very keen on doing it, because, after all the inside wars, come the plethora of customers whose personality can be as diverse as all the different characters that have been lay down on film, theatre and in real life performances.
Despite all the harshness of it all, it has a kind of madness underlying the nature where we are blend in that is very rewarding.
You get to be a psychic for a few hours, learning all there is to know of a person or a pair or a group of people, by the way they move, the way they look, the way they talk.
Analysing it all, you check everything to the slightest detail, but in the end, you two were being stared from the other corner of the room by any customer who judges you by all the same criteria.
That place is indeed a stage where humanity performances stand out of the raw nature of each one. Nevertheless, we get to do it over and over again, never knowing where all might lead us.
Listening: Vangelis - Soil Festivities
cocasman@zmail.pt
Monday, December 29, 2003
Saturday, December 27, 2003
Empty - Sleepless in Lisbon
.
It's now almost 3.00 a.m. and I just woke up, after sleeping a dreamless 4 hours period.
This is me today, a guy with no dreams. This is not quite true; I might have 2 or 3 in a holding cell, waiting to be bailed out by a will that does not seem to gain form.
I cannot understand this feeling of apathy that grabs my personality like a large slug who lingers at a cozy corner in a weary city.
This is me today, a weary guy, trying hard to break free from the boring edges that confine me to a state of undesirable emptiness.
I feel as alone as alone can be, surrounded by millions of souls that pass me by as if I was one of many unknown drifters, in a city where nobody has the time to wonder about any strangers. In my own town I feel a stranger! What is about solitude, that seems to have a more cunning nature, exactly when you are surrounded with people.
I am also to blame for this; after all, I prefer to exist in my own cave, a room filled with empty dreams, glued to dusty walls; but alas, I've given up on them. And so, like my shallow dreams, I have also renounced on the memories of my old buddies, who now lead a most active life with such a meticulous division of time, that neither me or them worry too much about the other.
Well, I might in occasion spare a thought or two about a friend in particular, a given group of friends, as I allow my imagination to carry me through a journey triggered by the little things of my current day; a sound, an image, a voice, any little thing will do, unfolding a series of buried recollections that are longed past.
Nevertheless, I am more impatient now and life is more demanding, so I don't allow my spirit to run wildly on any events of the past, or that my soul wonders of to dream rooms of tomorrow where anything is possible.
I guess this is all about meaning; the meaning of purpose as I once saw it in a cartoon that entertained me so much. What is my purpose here, now? A vague question; a pointless quest of meaning; a mirage on a road to perdition, where all is quite defined, and no hopeful exit doors lay in this strict corridor of destiny.
A poor image of doom it seems, as I wonder off in a depressive state of searching without a purpose.
Oh, I might say that I am searching for Happiness - an utopian city ruled by the fools of the realm - or instead I can be looking for Love - a spit of harsh realities when all relations that end in failure come to surface.
My caring readers, you who are too few to mention,by choosing a state of anonymity - for you also dwell too much in your own worries to even care for my own - I can tell you that currently, I am buoying in the sea of turmoil where the ghosts and dragons that once scared seamen from the promised lands, now scare me from the promised dreams.
I think of me as a once calm and determined spirit that headed his ship in the hard oceans that lay between his home and the island of hope, where supposedly exists the city of joy - a legendary place where many seek refuge from the unknown mysteries of the future.
However, contemplating the world from my cold windows, I dare not to imagine what possible truth are in these stories from my past imagination, as my present needs my weak reason and unsteady focus, instead of my joyful awe and merry wonder that not so long ago made me dream of a better tomorrow.
Today, I live in grey, rooming from home to work and back again, with an empty sight filled with a tearless vision of a harsh reality that I lead myself to be.
I guess I have somehow felt into the quicksand of uneasy comfort, where my will to change is compromised by my sloth. A glimpse of hope remains, when in a few months from now, I will have to leave my cozy family and my comfortable room and somehow manage in a nearly strange Montreal, that will be my home for half year. I just hope I won't sink even further in the muddy roads of my shallow contentment and try to escape from my next Canadian venture.
I am sure this is just a post-mental depressive state that is hovering over me like a big grey cloud about to burst into the fury of a storm, washing the world below, but then, leaving it refreshed, for whatever bonanza might be lurking around. I am sure this won't be a double storm without the serenity of a new sunshine.
P.S. I miss the rain, usually it has a reinvigorating power over me that I guess that my dream bags have grown empty out of some much common reality. I feel a cloud of tears coming soon, I am sure it will wash my face and allows me to gaze the world with a more sincere smile than the one I carry.
Listening: Pat Metheny's - Beyond the Missouri River
cocasman@zmail.pt
It's now almost 3.00 a.m. and I just woke up, after sleeping a dreamless 4 hours period.
This is me today, a guy with no dreams. This is not quite true; I might have 2 or 3 in a holding cell, waiting to be bailed out by a will that does not seem to gain form.
I cannot understand this feeling of apathy that grabs my personality like a large slug who lingers at a cozy corner in a weary city.
This is me today, a weary guy, trying hard to break free from the boring edges that confine me to a state of undesirable emptiness.
I feel as alone as alone can be, surrounded by millions of souls that pass me by as if I was one of many unknown drifters, in a city where nobody has the time to wonder about any strangers. In my own town I feel a stranger! What is about solitude, that seems to have a more cunning nature, exactly when you are surrounded with people.
I am also to blame for this; after all, I prefer to exist in my own cave, a room filled with empty dreams, glued to dusty walls; but alas, I've given up on them. And so, like my shallow dreams, I have also renounced on the memories of my old buddies, who now lead a most active life with such a meticulous division of time, that neither me or them worry too much about the other.
Well, I might in occasion spare a thought or two about a friend in particular, a given group of friends, as I allow my imagination to carry me through a journey triggered by the little things of my current day; a sound, an image, a voice, any little thing will do, unfolding a series of buried recollections that are longed past.
Nevertheless, I am more impatient now and life is more demanding, so I don't allow my spirit to run wildly on any events of the past, or that my soul wonders of to dream rooms of tomorrow where anything is possible.
I guess this is all about meaning; the meaning of purpose as I once saw it in a cartoon that entertained me so much. What is my purpose here, now? A vague question; a pointless quest of meaning; a mirage on a road to perdition, where all is quite defined, and no hopeful exit doors lay in this strict corridor of destiny.
A poor image of doom it seems, as I wonder off in a depressive state of searching without a purpose.
Oh, I might say that I am searching for Happiness - an utopian city ruled by the fools of the realm - or instead I can be looking for Love - a spit of harsh realities when all relations that end in failure come to surface.
My caring readers, you who are too few to mention,by choosing a state of anonymity - for you also dwell too much in your own worries to even care for my own - I can tell you that currently, I am buoying in the sea of turmoil where the ghosts and dragons that once scared seamen from the promised lands, now scare me from the promised dreams.
I think of me as a once calm and determined spirit that headed his ship in the hard oceans that lay between his home and the island of hope, where supposedly exists the city of joy - a legendary place where many seek refuge from the unknown mysteries of the future.
However, contemplating the world from my cold windows, I dare not to imagine what possible truth are in these stories from my past imagination, as my present needs my weak reason and unsteady focus, instead of my joyful awe and merry wonder that not so long ago made me dream of a better tomorrow.
Today, I live in grey, rooming from home to work and back again, with an empty sight filled with a tearless vision of a harsh reality that I lead myself to be.
I guess I have somehow felt into the quicksand of uneasy comfort, where my will to change is compromised by my sloth. A glimpse of hope remains, when in a few months from now, I will have to leave my cozy family and my comfortable room and somehow manage in a nearly strange Montreal, that will be my home for half year. I just hope I won't sink even further in the muddy roads of my shallow contentment and try to escape from my next Canadian venture.
I am sure this is just a post-mental depressive state that is hovering over me like a big grey cloud about to burst into the fury of a storm, washing the world below, but then, leaving it refreshed, for whatever bonanza might be lurking around. I am sure this won't be a double storm without the serenity of a new sunshine.
P.S. I miss the rain, usually it has a reinvigorating power over me that I guess that my dream bags have grown empty out of some much common reality. I feel a cloud of tears coming soon, I am sure it will wash my face and allows me to gaze the world with a more sincere smile than the one I carry.
Listening: Pat Metheny's - Beyond the Missouri River
cocasman@zmail.pt
Friday, December 26, 2003
The Christmas Blog
.
Every year around late December, many of us gather around, in familiar packs, under the auspicious nature of a so-called Christmas spirit. Usually we spread around well-meant sentences like: "Peace on Earth and Good will to all men and women".
How much commitment do we put into our actions to give these words a chance?
For myself, I must say that I do not undertake as much love towards fellow friends, acquaintances and strangers as I ought to.
Words are easily spoken, after all, most of them come out as a reflex action to any surrounding stimuli, that granted a bit of ponder and consideration, these words would probably be closer to the truth than they currently seem.
I am sorry; I am fighting hard with current emotions towards Christmas.
This year I have been extremely busy with work, for the last couple of weeks, and all that the merry season meant was work and more work, and even more after that.
My PONDER with no consideration, lead me to this electronic canvas where I draw my words, out of pure imagination and sensitivity of mad inspiration.
Here, I realize that I lost the purpose of Christmas, somewhere along the way. I cannot blame the hard work for it, nevertheless, one always manage a bit of time to do the things he likes. I guess, this year I was not a merry man with a holy spirit to guide me through the process of making others merry with my traditional Season's Greetings.
This celebration was a purpose of gathering without the mystic of past years.
Why?
What set me off, this year?
I always believed in magic, particularly in Christmas magic, where our dreams gained form and vision, where we could be kings for a night and rulers of wishes. This year, I had too many wishes and a little heart, too small to allow any love to get out and magic get in.
This time, I feel as similar to a rock as I never thought I would be.
I bought 2 gifts, for my parents no one less. I didn't feel like it. Anyway I still got a whole bunch of presents, from caring friends and family, but I must confess of dividing myself in feelings of careless for everything, the sort that makes my eyes run dry out of the emotionless state I am in; and the confusion of this attack of the conscious thoughts!
What a heck of Christmas blog?
A rumble of mixed thoughts and emotions, which makes me think what the heck I am living for?
No peace on earth and no good will towards any one on this or any other Earth that might be laying around the vast universe.
At the moment, this message is filled with no magic, no love, no passion, no nothing, alas only empty words with an bare purpose that I fight hard to understand it's meaning.
Still, these words stand out as a warning, for the cold-hearted disease that has been spreading through mankind as a social plague ever since the past Eternity, for it's my believe that the love the surrounded us in the first moment of creation or evolution (choose your belief) has been consumed by humans with the cold fervour of a oil tycoon.
However, my condition is not as advanced, which prevents me of putting my last drops of love to fill the vase of hope that reads, "Tomorrow things will be better".
This is a world where most of us stand in our own path, without moving to the right corners of civilization. A world, where brotherly souls lay desperately in need of the love we carry in our body bags. Selfishly we refuse to share any, forgetting that our love only grows and stands by us, if we share it with others instead of greedily saving it in cold shaped vaults, where eventually love dries to it's doom.
Despite all this, I believe in the vase of hope, and that indeed things have to get better.
If we learn to put aside prejudice (a leech of the soul), hatred (a murderer of love), selfishness (a drain of unity) and stand by all of those who quietly scream for love, then this, that I don't understand, must only get better.
Tonight, I take my time to fall asleep, as millions of empty of souls cry out, starving for a true friend that comes out through the mist of solitude and politely says:
"Hello! How do you do?!"
I can't count the number of voices that screamed continuously scream through night and day out of such despair, but I know that they are everywhere; in the lost fields of hard violent wars; in the gold covered cold rooms, where all the richness of life-gathered objects are but powerless to call for Love; in the sad faces that cross the streets and avenues in towns and cities throughout the world; in many places, here and there, that spread, unfortunately, towards everywhere, where love is described as legend, a myth from times long ago, that now are past.
A true feeling of Christmas will always have a bitter taste to my conscience until I learn to put aside my prejudice, my hatred, my selfishness, my sloth, and god knows how many more cancers of my feeble personality.
Only when, I can go towards a stranger in need and truthfully intend to transpire the words: "Can I help you?" and actually feed friendship and love to the hunger soul whose tears cover the face of discontentment; only then, will I restore the level of love in my own soul and will then be able to continue on in path towards my most precious goal: Happiness.
This Christmas, I have realized how far I am from that utopian Happiness, that I keep on searching. Nevertheless, I now know where I stand, and at this point I can see my path. Like all long journeys, also does mine starts with a first solid step, one day, however, I will say: "I finally got here".
Don't worry my friends, when that day comes! You will be the first to know, we will all be there.
Reading: Laura Esquivel's "Law of Love"
Listening: Acustico - Rui Veloso
Seeing: Amelie from Montmatre
Thinking: Is it colder inside or outside?
cocasman@zmail.pt
Every year around late December, many of us gather around, in familiar packs, under the auspicious nature of a so-called Christmas spirit. Usually we spread around well-meant sentences like: "Peace on Earth and Good will to all men and women".
How much commitment do we put into our actions to give these words a chance?
For myself, I must say that I do not undertake as much love towards fellow friends, acquaintances and strangers as I ought to.
Words are easily spoken, after all, most of them come out as a reflex action to any surrounding stimuli, that granted a bit of ponder and consideration, these words would probably be closer to the truth than they currently seem.
I am sorry; I am fighting hard with current emotions towards Christmas.
This year I have been extremely busy with work, for the last couple of weeks, and all that the merry season meant was work and more work, and even more after that.
My PONDER with no consideration, lead me to this electronic canvas where I draw my words, out of pure imagination and sensitivity of mad inspiration.
Here, I realize that I lost the purpose of Christmas, somewhere along the way. I cannot blame the hard work for it, nevertheless, one always manage a bit of time to do the things he likes. I guess, this year I was not a merry man with a holy spirit to guide me through the process of making others merry with my traditional Season's Greetings.
This celebration was a purpose of gathering without the mystic of past years.
Why?
What set me off, this year?
I always believed in magic, particularly in Christmas magic, where our dreams gained form and vision, where we could be kings for a night and rulers of wishes. This year, I had too many wishes and a little heart, too small to allow any love to get out and magic get in.
This time, I feel as similar to a rock as I never thought I would be.
I bought 2 gifts, for my parents no one less. I didn't feel like it. Anyway I still got a whole bunch of presents, from caring friends and family, but I must confess of dividing myself in feelings of careless for everything, the sort that makes my eyes run dry out of the emotionless state I am in; and the confusion of this attack of the conscious thoughts!
What a heck of Christmas blog?
A rumble of mixed thoughts and emotions, which makes me think what the heck I am living for?
No peace on earth and no good will towards any one on this or any other Earth that might be laying around the vast universe.
At the moment, this message is filled with no magic, no love, no passion, no nothing, alas only empty words with an bare purpose that I fight hard to understand it's meaning.
Still, these words stand out as a warning, for the cold-hearted disease that has been spreading through mankind as a social plague ever since the past Eternity, for it's my believe that the love the surrounded us in the first moment of creation or evolution (choose your belief) has been consumed by humans with the cold fervour of a oil tycoon.
However, my condition is not as advanced, which prevents me of putting my last drops of love to fill the vase of hope that reads, "Tomorrow things will be better".
This is a world where most of us stand in our own path, without moving to the right corners of civilization. A world, where brotherly souls lay desperately in need of the love we carry in our body bags. Selfishly we refuse to share any, forgetting that our love only grows and stands by us, if we share it with others instead of greedily saving it in cold shaped vaults, where eventually love dries to it's doom.
Despite all this, I believe in the vase of hope, and that indeed things have to get better.
If we learn to put aside prejudice (a leech of the soul), hatred (a murderer of love), selfishness (a drain of unity) and stand by all of those who quietly scream for love, then this, that I don't understand, must only get better.
Tonight, I take my time to fall asleep, as millions of empty of souls cry out, starving for a true friend that comes out through the mist of solitude and politely says:
"Hello! How do you do?!"
I can't count the number of voices that screamed continuously scream through night and day out of such despair, but I know that they are everywhere; in the lost fields of hard violent wars; in the gold covered cold rooms, where all the richness of life-gathered objects are but powerless to call for Love; in the sad faces that cross the streets and avenues in towns and cities throughout the world; in many places, here and there, that spread, unfortunately, towards everywhere, where love is described as legend, a myth from times long ago, that now are past.
A true feeling of Christmas will always have a bitter taste to my conscience until I learn to put aside my prejudice, my hatred, my selfishness, my sloth, and god knows how many more cancers of my feeble personality.
Only when, I can go towards a stranger in need and truthfully intend to transpire the words: "Can I help you?" and actually feed friendship and love to the hunger soul whose tears cover the face of discontentment; only then, will I restore the level of love in my own soul and will then be able to continue on in path towards my most precious goal: Happiness.
This Christmas, I have realized how far I am from that utopian Happiness, that I keep on searching. Nevertheless, I now know where I stand, and at this point I can see my path. Like all long journeys, also does mine starts with a first solid step, one day, however, I will say: "I finally got here".
Don't worry my friends, when that day comes! You will be the first to know, we will all be there.
Reading: Laura Esquivel's "Law of Love"
Listening: Acustico - Rui Veloso
Seeing: Amelie from Montmatre
Thinking: Is it colder inside or outside?
cocasman@zmail.pt
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
The awakening city
.
After a rather hectic night, I got home around 3.00 am, and felt like calling a good friend of mine, who like me was one of many children of the night. Strangely enough, he invited me to take a coffee so we could enjoy a more comfortable than that which the phone was limited in providing.
At 4.30 a.m., we were on our way towards the airport to chat about whatever issues would come across our worrying thoughts. We rumble on about life's little madness that strikes us daily. Some of them gone, others present or even those yet to be, we were touched by the fools sickness of two friends of the night stars who wanted to break free from the usual routine.
Around 6.00 a.m. we moved on towards a different coffee shop closer to the centre of Lisbon. There we enjoyed a calm breakfast while witnessing the first drifters of the dawn, introducing themselves to the first of cup of the precious stimulating reviving caffeine. Only then would they set out to endure whatever life had installed for their following hours.
My friend's eagerness led us to Torel's garden, which opens daily at 7.00 a.m. It was impressive to witness the quiet Lisbon, a few minutes before daybreak, with all the stillness of elements. Beneath the garden's trees I absorb the immenseness of the dawn while the morning mist danced around countless streets and avenues, making this personal experience gain a more mystic quality.
That moment, I wondered so much about life, while the eyes of my city stared back at me, like a mother gazing the peace of her children's sleep on, while they are venturing in their dreams. Lisbon is quite an impressive mother; even if the abuse of the years gives her a more austere look than her soul transpires. Lisbon's all about past and future, for all those who are in her present.
By 8.00 a.m. my friend's thirst for different landscapes took us to the opposite side of one of Lisbon's main avenue, towards another, yet smaller, garden. With the first rays of sunshine blocked by the morning dew and the grey veil of clouds that hover about us, we appreciated old statues in the "Bairro Alto" garden. The sad deterioration on the outside look of the faces from past heroes, deposited in me the sensation that Lisbon's children might not care for their aging mother with the proper respect that one's mother deserve.
After filling our eyes with visions of wonder and amazement of a most precious dawn, we headed out towards the Lisbon's multi-cultural downtown. In it, I lost the sensation of being in Portugal, by entering in a kind of limbo identity. The "luso" flavor was replaced, mainly by the many countries of the East, from where people came carrying hope of success on a safer ground than their own. The city of Ulysses became home for many that blended in Lisbon's identity, adding their social and cultural difference, making that spot truly unique.
By that time, the majority of mortals that give life to this capital, were wondering on to their current duties, like a pack of coordinate ants that have a specific role in today's play of life.
From gardens, to the twilight corners of the city, I was in an awaken dream with so much to absorb, that it's with great difficult that I dwell with my inspiration in finding the right words that can make justice to the many different types of beauty that cover the awakening city.
Listening: Frida's soundtrack - Elliot Goldenthal
Watching: Cyrano de Bergerac with Gerard Depardieu
Reading: "O Homem que Mordeu o Cão 2 - A irmandade do Canideo" - The man that bitted the dog 2 - The brotherhood of the canine.
cocasman@zmail.pt
After a rather hectic night, I got home around 3.00 am, and felt like calling a good friend of mine, who like me was one of many children of the night. Strangely enough, he invited me to take a coffee so we could enjoy a more comfortable than that which the phone was limited in providing.
At 4.30 a.m., we were on our way towards the airport to chat about whatever issues would come across our worrying thoughts. We rumble on about life's little madness that strikes us daily. Some of them gone, others present or even those yet to be, we were touched by the fools sickness of two friends of the night stars who wanted to break free from the usual routine.
Around 6.00 a.m. we moved on towards a different coffee shop closer to the centre of Lisbon. There we enjoyed a calm breakfast while witnessing the first drifters of the dawn, introducing themselves to the first of cup of the precious stimulating reviving caffeine. Only then would they set out to endure whatever life had installed for their following hours.
My friend's eagerness led us to Torel's garden, which opens daily at 7.00 a.m. It was impressive to witness the quiet Lisbon, a few minutes before daybreak, with all the stillness of elements. Beneath the garden's trees I absorb the immenseness of the dawn while the morning mist danced around countless streets and avenues, making this personal experience gain a more mystic quality.
That moment, I wondered so much about life, while the eyes of my city stared back at me, like a mother gazing the peace of her children's sleep on, while they are venturing in their dreams. Lisbon is quite an impressive mother; even if the abuse of the years gives her a more austere look than her soul transpires. Lisbon's all about past and future, for all those who are in her present.
By 8.00 a.m. my friend's thirst for different landscapes took us to the opposite side of one of Lisbon's main avenue, towards another, yet smaller, garden. With the first rays of sunshine blocked by the morning dew and the grey veil of clouds that hover about us, we appreciated old statues in the "Bairro Alto" garden. The sad deterioration on the outside look of the faces from past heroes, deposited in me the sensation that Lisbon's children might not care for their aging mother with the proper respect that one's mother deserve.
After filling our eyes with visions of wonder and amazement of a most precious dawn, we headed out towards the Lisbon's multi-cultural downtown. In it, I lost the sensation of being in Portugal, by entering in a kind of limbo identity. The "luso" flavor was replaced, mainly by the many countries of the East, from where people came carrying hope of success on a safer ground than their own. The city of Ulysses became home for many that blended in Lisbon's identity, adding their social and cultural difference, making that spot truly unique.
By that time, the majority of mortals that give life to this capital, were wondering on to their current duties, like a pack of coordinate ants that have a specific role in today's play of life.
From gardens, to the twilight corners of the city, I was in an awaken dream with so much to absorb, that it's with great difficult that I dwell with my inspiration in finding the right words that can make justice to the many different types of beauty that cover the awakening city.
Listening: Frida's soundtrack - Elliot Goldenthal
Watching: Cyrano de Bergerac with Gerard Depardieu
Reading: "O Homem que Mordeu o Cão 2 - A irmandade do Canideo" - The man that bitted the dog 2 - The brotherhood of the canine.
cocasman@zmail.pt
Saturday, December 13, 2003
Letter to myself - a ego boost to oneself
.
"All the screens are staged and the all the men and women are mere players doing their part"
Shakespeare revisited!
Dear Carlos,
How fun is life?
One could dwell an eternity on this issue without coming to a truly rewarding resolution that could give peace to one's mind about what in fact is funny in being alive.
Once, a strange woman in Portugal said the most extraordinary thing:
"The opposite of being dead is being alive"
How we wanted so desesperately that she would blessed us with a personal practical view of such wise words. We didn't asked for much, after all we wanted was to see an exhibition of the opposite side of her "alive state". Alas she failed to grant us this little request, but then, we would be deprived of such spontaneous comedy.
Life is fun in it's true essence has it hold us to the point of being in extremes, having only a few seconds in between. I wonder who has been able to escape the swift changes of humor, well you people that are sleeping now are not allowed to answer in the grounds of prolonged inaction.
Personally I can tell you this Carlos. You have been taking quite an extraordinary piece of existence, ever since we set foot in this play you perform.
You are not the common hard-worker, or the dedicated student, or the preserverant mind that sticks to it's goals, however you do know how to live a funny life, merely by using what destiny places around.
Friends and family are two groups of individuals who have been blessed of meeting you, even when you decide to do an impersionation of Lord of the Dance and his full set of 100 Irish tap dancers in your bedroom, at most convenient time 5.00 am. Who cares if that other group of individuals, known as neighbors perform parades and raise signs claiming for peace and quite. If they wanted peace and quiet they should go to outer-space where the vacuum prevents any sound travel from A to B, regardless where A and B are. Who cares?
My friend, you are about to embark in a new Odyssey, a journey that will take you away from friends and family, that won't be the there to protect against the strangers who might resent late night performances of any type of STOMP activity you might come to develop. The Odyssey that you will have in front of you, will make you grow as an individual, allowing you to meet knew people, rendez-vous with old friends and enjoy the perspective of silence in a whole different ground. Isn't funny enough, to make life worth while?
I always thought life was worthwhile, as soon as I discovered the therapeutic value of a fart in a bubble bath, even though it was quite unhealthy for any romantic relation I could have had... Darn beans!!! Still, it was all in good fun, a fart is a fart! And it helps to release the pressure out of you, at least from the intestines, leaving our friends the mutualistic bacteria much more pleased not that the farting sound with all its gas went way.
I forget my point. It's the second time this week, and about the millionth of my life.
Carlos, life is fun just by being able to compose these words to you, even if it just to suck up to you and tell you to go to sleep because your body needs rest, even though your eager mind is allowing your starving soul enjoy the wonderful joys of Laughter.
I should remind you however that the music stopped, and that you are acting on inner inspiration alone, which lead you to the fartology outburst that might aggravate some polite minds that might come to read this. I wonder what the Nobel committee would make of this insanity!
No matter, as we decided to devote our life to madness in is purest form, through honesty and comedy. It's so spectacularly funny to be alive that you can explode, pick up the peaces reconstruct yourself as a true Role model and explode again into becoming the nice guy that you are now.
Whatever you do, do it as Socrates told you once, a few years ago:
"To Thy self be true"
Isn't that funny!
Life is preciously funny.
Dear Carlos, just try and keep up with the flow of fun the surrounds you and spread a bit of that around.
Take Care
Yours truly,
Carlos Sousa
cocasman@zmail.pt
SEEING: CUSTOMERS ALL THE TIME, STOPPED WORKING AT THE CORNERS OFFICE, I KNOW OWN THE CORNERS OFFICE
LISTENING: NOTHING RIGHT NOW, but I was earing a Cuban guy called Sylvio Rodriguez - special note to a song about a unicorn that he lost! Although it is so deep, he says in the song that we will pay well for the information that will lead him to find the Blue unicorn.
READING: Some emails that come my way and still dwelling on the Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes
BREATHING: AIR IN A ROOM THAT VENTS THE SMELLESS FARTS THAT COME OUT FROM THE FUNNY LIFE!
"All the screens are staged and the all the men and women are mere players doing their part"
Shakespeare revisited!
Dear Carlos,
How fun is life?
One could dwell an eternity on this issue without coming to a truly rewarding resolution that could give peace to one's mind about what in fact is funny in being alive.
Once, a strange woman in Portugal said the most extraordinary thing:
"The opposite of being dead is being alive"
How we wanted so desesperately that she would blessed us with a personal practical view of such wise words. We didn't asked for much, after all we wanted was to see an exhibition of the opposite side of her "alive state". Alas she failed to grant us this little request, but then, we would be deprived of such spontaneous comedy.
Life is fun in it's true essence has it hold us to the point of being in extremes, having only a few seconds in between. I wonder who has been able to escape the swift changes of humor, well you people that are sleeping now are not allowed to answer in the grounds of prolonged inaction.
Personally I can tell you this Carlos. You have been taking quite an extraordinary piece of existence, ever since we set foot in this play you perform.
You are not the common hard-worker, or the dedicated student, or the preserverant mind that sticks to it's goals, however you do know how to live a funny life, merely by using what destiny places around.
Friends and family are two groups of individuals who have been blessed of meeting you, even when you decide to do an impersionation of Lord of the Dance and his full set of 100 Irish tap dancers in your bedroom, at most convenient time 5.00 am. Who cares if that other group of individuals, known as neighbors perform parades and raise signs claiming for peace and quite. If they wanted peace and quiet they should go to outer-space where the vacuum prevents any sound travel from A to B, regardless where A and B are. Who cares?
My friend, you are about to embark in a new Odyssey, a journey that will take you away from friends and family, that won't be the there to protect against the strangers who might resent late night performances of any type of STOMP activity you might come to develop. The Odyssey that you will have in front of you, will make you grow as an individual, allowing you to meet knew people, rendez-vous with old friends and enjoy the perspective of silence in a whole different ground. Isn't funny enough, to make life worth while?
I always thought life was worthwhile, as soon as I discovered the therapeutic value of a fart in a bubble bath, even though it was quite unhealthy for any romantic relation I could have had... Darn beans!!! Still, it was all in good fun, a fart is a fart! And it helps to release the pressure out of you, at least from the intestines, leaving our friends the mutualistic bacteria much more pleased not that the farting sound with all its gas went way.
I forget my point. It's the second time this week, and about the millionth of my life.
Carlos, life is fun just by being able to compose these words to you, even if it just to suck up to you and tell you to go to sleep because your body needs rest, even though your eager mind is allowing your starving soul enjoy the wonderful joys of Laughter.
I should remind you however that the music stopped, and that you are acting on inner inspiration alone, which lead you to the fartology outburst that might aggravate some polite minds that might come to read this. I wonder what the Nobel committee would make of this insanity!
No matter, as we decided to devote our life to madness in is purest form, through honesty and comedy. It's so spectacularly funny to be alive that you can explode, pick up the peaces reconstruct yourself as a true Role model and explode again into becoming the nice guy that you are now.
Whatever you do, do it as Socrates told you once, a few years ago:
"To Thy self be true"
Isn't that funny!
Life is preciously funny.
Dear Carlos, just try and keep up with the flow of fun the surrounds you and spread a bit of that around.
Take Care
Yours truly,
Carlos Sousa
cocasman@zmail.pt
SEEING: CUSTOMERS ALL THE TIME, STOPPED WORKING AT THE CORNERS OFFICE, I KNOW OWN THE CORNERS OFFICE
LISTENING: NOTHING RIGHT NOW, but I was earing a Cuban guy called Sylvio Rodriguez - special note to a song about a unicorn that he lost! Although it is so deep, he says in the song that we will pay well for the information that will lead him to find the Blue unicorn.
READING: Some emails that come my way and still dwelling on the Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes
BREATHING: AIR IN A ROOM THAT VENTS THE SMELLESS FARTS THAT COME OUT FROM THE FUNNY LIFE!
Thursday, December 04, 2003
Fear and Paranoia, a personal view
.
People tend to judge other people's lives with more scrutiny than that which they use to examine their own. Usually, it's developed a notion of: "if I were you" assuming that they know, all the necessary courses of action to correct someone else's choices, more even than their own.
The funny thing about the whole matter comes when someone claims for their need of space; peace of mind; comfort of choice without being called for any sort of account for whatever steps one decided to take in his life.
I lose myself in all the different ways commonly used to influence someone's life.
I dare to explain a part of the process as I see it, for that I must divide the whole thing in two major groups:
1. Those who think you are doing the right thing
2. Those who think quite the opposite.
Let me start explaining in general terms the latter group.
Coming out of my own experience, this group of people, who care for the individual, whose life is being studied under a "friendly microscope", tend to be more aggressive in showing their dislike in the individual's choices, which are not in the tune with their rational view, even if it makes some sense in a more spiritual level.
It's frequent to apply a strategy to persuade the individual.
Step 1. Totally repulse for a particular point in choice.
Example. An individual wants to go study abroad.
A immediate set of actions and reactions is put in place
Action: I wouldn't go if I were you, that is so expensive
Reaction: I will work and pay for it.
Action: You will probably would do the same thing here, for less money.
Reaction: I believe that I would be well served in that particular institution.
Action: Yes, but you will be far away, will you manage one your own?. (a sense of fear starts to be fed here, through some malice)
Reaction: Eventually, I will.
Step 2. Spreading Fear and Paranoia
Action: Look, a war has started! Aren't you afraid of retaliation in the country where you are going? What if they close the borders and you are stuck there on your own for a very long time!?
Action: Are you sure that is the right course for you? Did you make your choice wisely? Will you get a job with your degree afterwards?
Action: It's so difficult to get a job these days in that area.
Action: What do you know of that field, to be sure you will really want to do it?
Step 3. The final blow
Action: Are you still sure you want to go? Have you thought about all the people you leave behind? Aren't you being a bit selfish?
These actions, are but a mere handful of examples in ways to let out the fear and paranoia, which come and take the individual who is striving hard in finding is spot in the world.
Everyone takes these negative actions with the best of intentions, because they "know" that that is the best way to do things, even if their own lives is a failure blunder after another, to which they would explain: "I am an expert on bad choices, I just don't want to see you make one!"
The group of people, who is in favour, usually does not want to feed the paranoia, but they do making the kind of questions that put more pressure in it.
Example
Action: Have you started researching for what you are doing?
Action: Have you taken care of all the details? Do you have your passport? Have you bought your ticket, yet? What about insurance, are you fully covered? Where will you be staying?
These are the kinds of questions that even wider the deep of despair that one has to face when life needs a choice to be taken.
The amount of fear and paranoia that result from the combined action of both groups is enough to drive one to madness and just let him stay there.
This is particularly more aggravating because it is done by the people, who supposedly care the most for the poor fellow, whose life seems so confusing at times.
When one is stubborn enough to stand up for his convictions and asks for the reason behind all this, the most common reaction is:
"I was only doing it in your own interest, after all I am your friend or I am so and so in regards to you, so you should expect me to get worried for your foolish actions"
or
"You should be more wise in taking older people's advices, but don't let yourself be influenced, make your own decisions" - a last step towards paranoia.
People's freedom is a thing from the past!
From day to day we are forced to live under a dictatorship of rules and models that stand out in our society. The freedom to pursue any dream is always undermined, starting at the core of one's nest.
The true visionaries who had the insight and the courage to bring their dreams to reality, are the ones who stick to the plan, faithful to their on visions for what they want for themselves, rather than committing their lives to the opinions and judgements of others, allegedly performing all in the best of interests.
How can anyone be allowed to dream? All of them are, initially condemned to failure by the majority of individuals. They will be a cause of despair, as the ruling class views them as mere figments of imagination that should be cast away, since they interfere with common logic of things. The problem is hampered by the frustrations that others have with their own lives and by a natural sense of competition don't want to be overtaken in the quest for happiness. It is so much simple to take the easy way out, and just be a machine, without daring more than what immediate reality brings. Why fight against it?
Why let the fear and paranoia? By ignoring any "ludicrous" scenario one avoids the prejudice of society, friends and family, hence no more persecuting notions of fear and paranoia.
I wonder, if underneath all the secure masks, used to hide the true feelings, a sense of deception and frustration exists as the most natural reaction a soul can possibly as. After all if one accepts to live someone else's dreams, won't the soul feel that its true calling is being thrown to void.
Yet for those who decide to pursue dreams, their battle against fear and paranoia starts at the very core of one's particular soul, by accepting the fact that whatever decision taken is in fact just a decision. All of them carry natural consequences; the only way to view them is by acting towards one or the other. The natural way to do it is going for what the soul asks for, or else the destiny is set by the other one's dreams rather than our own.
My life is being filled with so much paranoia from all the sides, that I wake up after a mere 4 hours of sleep, without being able to get back to those nice valleys in the land of Morpheus, as I am stuck in this reality with the demons someone fed me; those, obviously, being Fear and Paranoia.
I don't want to overcome to any of this, as I value my mental health a great deal, whatever being pursued by all these notions and ideas, which I don't call for, will may cause some permanent damage in my own conscience, even though I don't believe in no permanent damage, all is in fact transient.
I will stick with the plan, and take each consequence day by day.
People tend to judge other people's lives with more scrutiny than that which they use to examine their own. Usually, it's developed a notion of: "if I were you" assuming that they know, all the necessary courses of action to correct someone else's choices, more even than their own.
The funny thing about the whole matter comes when someone claims for their need of space; peace of mind; comfort of choice without being called for any sort of account for whatever steps one decided to take in his life.
I lose myself in all the different ways commonly used to influence someone's life.
I dare to explain a part of the process as I see it, for that I must divide the whole thing in two major groups:
1. Those who think you are doing the right thing
2. Those who think quite the opposite.
Let me start explaining in general terms the latter group.
Coming out of my own experience, this group of people, who care for the individual, whose life is being studied under a "friendly microscope", tend to be more aggressive in showing their dislike in the individual's choices, which are not in the tune with their rational view, even if it makes some sense in a more spiritual level.
It's frequent to apply a strategy to persuade the individual.
Step 1. Totally repulse for a particular point in choice.
Example. An individual wants to go study abroad.
A immediate set of actions and reactions is put in place
Action: I wouldn't go if I were you, that is so expensive
Reaction: I will work and pay for it.
Action: You will probably would do the same thing here, for less money.
Reaction: I believe that I would be well served in that particular institution.
Action: Yes, but you will be far away, will you manage one your own?. (a sense of fear starts to be fed here, through some malice)
Reaction: Eventually, I will.
Step 2. Spreading Fear and Paranoia
Action: Look, a war has started! Aren't you afraid of retaliation in the country where you are going? What if they close the borders and you are stuck there on your own for a very long time!?
Action: Are you sure that is the right course for you? Did you make your choice wisely? Will you get a job with your degree afterwards?
Action: It's so difficult to get a job these days in that area.
Action: What do you know of that field, to be sure you will really want to do it?
Step 3. The final blow
Action: Are you still sure you want to go? Have you thought about all the people you leave behind? Aren't you being a bit selfish?
These actions, are but a mere handful of examples in ways to let out the fear and paranoia, which come and take the individual who is striving hard in finding is spot in the world.
Everyone takes these negative actions with the best of intentions, because they "know" that that is the best way to do things, even if their own lives is a failure blunder after another, to which they would explain: "I am an expert on bad choices, I just don't want to see you make one!"
The group of people, who is in favour, usually does not want to feed the paranoia, but they do making the kind of questions that put more pressure in it.
Example
Action: Have you started researching for what you are doing?
Action: Have you taken care of all the details? Do you have your passport? Have you bought your ticket, yet? What about insurance, are you fully covered? Where will you be staying?
These are the kinds of questions that even wider the deep of despair that one has to face when life needs a choice to be taken.
The amount of fear and paranoia that result from the combined action of both groups is enough to drive one to madness and just let him stay there.
This is particularly more aggravating because it is done by the people, who supposedly care the most for the poor fellow, whose life seems so confusing at times.
When one is stubborn enough to stand up for his convictions and asks for the reason behind all this, the most common reaction is:
"I was only doing it in your own interest, after all I am your friend or I am so and so in regards to you, so you should expect me to get worried for your foolish actions"
or
"You should be more wise in taking older people's advices, but don't let yourself be influenced, make your own decisions" - a last step towards paranoia.
People's freedom is a thing from the past!
From day to day we are forced to live under a dictatorship of rules and models that stand out in our society. The freedom to pursue any dream is always undermined, starting at the core of one's nest.
The true visionaries who had the insight and the courage to bring their dreams to reality, are the ones who stick to the plan, faithful to their on visions for what they want for themselves, rather than committing their lives to the opinions and judgements of others, allegedly performing all in the best of interests.
How can anyone be allowed to dream? All of them are, initially condemned to failure by the majority of individuals. They will be a cause of despair, as the ruling class views them as mere figments of imagination that should be cast away, since they interfere with common logic of things. The problem is hampered by the frustrations that others have with their own lives and by a natural sense of competition don't want to be overtaken in the quest for happiness. It is so much simple to take the easy way out, and just be a machine, without daring more than what immediate reality brings. Why fight against it?
Why let the fear and paranoia? By ignoring any "ludicrous" scenario one avoids the prejudice of society, friends and family, hence no more persecuting notions of fear and paranoia.
I wonder, if underneath all the secure masks, used to hide the true feelings, a sense of deception and frustration exists as the most natural reaction a soul can possibly as. After all if one accepts to live someone else's dreams, won't the soul feel that its true calling is being thrown to void.
Yet for those who decide to pursue dreams, their battle against fear and paranoia starts at the very core of one's particular soul, by accepting the fact that whatever decision taken is in fact just a decision. All of them carry natural consequences; the only way to view them is by acting towards one or the other. The natural way to do it is going for what the soul asks for, or else the destiny is set by the other one's dreams rather than our own.
My life is being filled with so much paranoia from all the sides, that I wake up after a mere 4 hours of sleep, without being able to get back to those nice valleys in the land of Morpheus, as I am stuck in this reality with the demons someone fed me; those, obviously, being Fear and Paranoia.
I don't want to overcome to any of this, as I value my mental health a great deal, whatever being pursued by all these notions and ideas, which I don't call for, will may cause some permanent damage in my own conscience, even though I don't believe in no permanent damage, all is in fact transient.
I will stick with the plan, and take each consequence day by day.
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
A Journey through Night and Dawn against Bureaucracy
.
dedicated to Hernani Leonardo Silvestre - the best side kick against bureaucracy
Prelude for a journey
Life can set us up with moments that can seem truly dammed, yet if one is smart enough they can be transformed in something truly blessed.
I believe some clarification is in order.
I am currently with my sister as her assistant in managing a restaurant.
For all those of you, who dream eagerly for a business of your own, I must say these wise words:
"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!" - I got a little help from Ren and Stimpy with this last sentence.
The amount of detail a business cares for is enough to make you become a drone in a society that produces systematic chain of events always happening with the same purpose, with a mere changing of cast.
Working as a waiter can be truly fun, because you get to know a whole universe of egos that can only compete with the Naughty session of the Yellow Pages. This knowledge can be used to write a Ph. D. in Phsycology about behaviour in our society.
Working as an assistant manager can be consuming, as you have to start talking to numbers as if you were one of them, and have to care for your fellow colleagues as if they were little babies always needing for care and sympathy. In a nutshell, to be quite good you have to know how to balance between altruism and selfishness without entering too deep in neither of them. This knowledge can help you in becoming insane.
Bureaucracy is an amazing thing and it tends to world domination as the years fly by.
Alas, for this restaurant to succeed in the world empire of food, we must also become friends with the mighty RED TAPE DICTATORSHIP.
This last week, we were informed of the need to inform IDICT about all the contracts we have with foreigner people. IDICT is the Portuguese entity that oversees all the details concerning job conditions and legislation. For simplicity sake I prefer to refer this little universe of horrors as IDICT.
Chapter 1 - THE IDICT
The first step I had to do was to get instructions in how to act. Calling IDICT proved a wise choice as it revealed some information concerning the documents I had to present, but somehow I was only informed for 2 urgent cases.
My first trip to this fine Factory of RED TAPE showed me the reality that was presented before my eyes was in fact concealing me the truth. I consider my self a truthful representation of the naïve class.
Optimistically, I got there on a beautiful afternoon, and got the answer that I could only clear my case if I had a ticket. 60 tickets are distributed once everyday at 9.00 am.
Never abandoned by my optimism, I went there a second time, and I thought I should be a bit more cautious so I decide to arrive at 8.00 am; just to make sure I would get a ticket.
The line of people, who froze while waiting, for what was to be our common fate (THE QUEST OF THE TICKET), stretched all the way as to bend the block and went down that street quite bit!
Everyday 60 tickets are given, that day I got none!
From time to time the Gods of the Universe place us in situations that we have to win at all cost. This opens those kinds of questions where, regardless of the odds, the answer must be in the vicinity of Yes or Yes.
This brings me to that first aspect I was talking about:
Life can set us up with moments that can seem truly dammed, yet if one is smart enough they can be transformed in something truly blessed.
Apparently I was dammed to wait in line for what look like an eternity. How do I turn this in my advantage?
Fortunately, I am blessed for having the finest group of friends in the Universe, who care for me; they are in all the corners of the world.
Hernani Leonardo Silvestre, a true friend and a caring soul, accepted to become my side kick for a little adventure I was about to have, as he was kind enough to accompany me through a all-nighter.
Chapter 2 - All the animals come out at Night
The plan was simple.
After I would leave work, Hernani would pick me up and we would burn a few hours until 6.00 am, when we would go to IDICT's door where we would patiently await for the 9.00 am, the feeding of tickets hour.
1.00 a.m.
Hernani picks me up at the restaurant, and we decide to go somewhere and grab a byte to eat.
2.00 a.m.
By that time we were driving through the streets of Lisbon, in the coldest autumn's night of 2003, more reminiscent of a cold winter's night of 2002.
The secret for holding on for so many hours without losing the battle with sleep, is to get distracted. Anything goes!
As we drove around, we started rumbling on about superficial aspects of the world.
Between many one was elected as the top discussion event of the 2 of December night.
I remember arguing about the criterion used to decide the winners of the employee of the month award.
"Probably, they decide it with a tossing of coin" - that was my initial hypothesis.
"That seems unlikely, how would they do if they would have more than 2 workers"
"I got it! They count all the workers, and divide them into 2 groups, and then toss the coin"
"And then what?"
"Then which ever group wins, they divide the number of people from that group into 2 groups, and repeat the procedure again, until they end up with a final winner, that will be the employee of the month!" - this was my brilliant thesis, I remember think my parents would probably be so proud in the money they invested in my Biotechnology course, while they slept!
As we kept talking, we came to a red light, and we look at a convenience store, that stood near by.
The funny thing about convenience stores in Lisbon is that they are only convenient until 2.00 am, after that they become inconvenient according to someone who lives during the day, bright notion. I would say the kind of notion that strikes us down, sometime around noon. Oh well!
Inside the store we notice an employee, cleaning up.
"Do you think that poor fellow there, became an employee of the month?" - Hernani asked.
"Maybe"
As we look carefully, we notice a second man, standing right outside the door of the closed store.
"Is he pissing?" - Hernani asked.
"I guess so" - I replied without believing my own sight.
There we both stood, waiting for our light to gives freedom from that sight, as we watched, the workingman and the pissing man!
Thanks to that we had subject for a substantial part of our long night.
We argued about the possibility of he being a pissed of client that took his role a little bit to literally, or perhaps a former employee of the month that was passing water to his ex-colleague.
I wonder still, would the piss get inside the store! Would that be enough to piss the current holder of the best employee of the month award, hence producing two living fountains that were peeing at each other?
Chapter 3 - IDICT RELOADED
By 5.30 we decide to proceed for our waiting place, a nice cold outside of a building, where we would be the first people to gaze at the door.
I thought we were going to beat the world record of showing up at an early hour to get inside the Red Tape Store!
The world however spits on my face once again, and calls me sucker.
I got there and a line of 12 people had already formed and waited to see the first bus start it's circulating round; the sun waking up; the first clerks arrival at work with their tidal smell waves of perfume; and finally the big stare, with a face that had been in the cool freezing breeze of December for the past 3 or 4 hours, as the nice security officer would hand out the long waited prize.
For 3 hours we dreamt about heating units, hot meals, while arguing about the unfair state of the roads in Lisbon and the odd situation of the tollbooths from suburb to suburb.
In fact that experience, was quite amusing thanks to Hernani, as we conceived this race of people who knit eagerly at work, just before 9.00 am dictates the start of a new processing day.
This lead me o believe that I was in some sort of race; Unfortunately, the Brazilian, the Chinese, the Ukrainian, the Moldavian, and a whole bunch more whose countries I can't quite place, overtook us. I must confess that Guinea Bissau got first place. This is even more extraordinary if when I realized that the winning lady was carrying a 6 months old baby! Amazing Reality!
As promised the prize ceremony for phase one came to be at 9.00 am. Being placed in 12th meant that I only had to wait one hour more inside the gymno-bureaucratic complex for phase two.
The building was field with all sorts of things, where schizophrenic rooms with few chairs, too few to mention, helped us consumed the final waiting hour.
In the core of the Red Tape Competition, you only get one chance at phase two, either you have your forms CB123, DL15323, WEG2131, AR8654F and not forgetting the JFGREW434521, completed with several copies and all signed accordingly, or you are disqualified for that day, and must restart from phase one all over again.
Life was not unfair to me, I was so lucky, my Yes or Yes emergency was solved. However, due to the wonderful success of this feature of adventures, the nice clerk that attended me, said:
"You still have to do this one more time, as you still need to bring the documents for all the other foreigner employees that are currently working in your restaurant"
TO BE CONTINUED IN IDICT REVOLUTIONS
A small conclusion about my case and reality
Life is extraordinary with all the myriad of causalities that presents us in our simple journey.
If I didn't experienced all of this; the pissing man vs. the employee of the month battle; the fun world of red tape and all its ludicrous aspects; I would not be telling you this now.
I am trying to describe all this in good humour, because it's not my ass on the line, even if I did what I did, because I wanted to prevent someone else to be in trouble.
After all, any immigration process demands an overload of bureaucracy from time to time.
Societies copy cat each other in their methods.
People must eat, but before they must get money to buy food.
Typically, money is not handed out, so societies developed this concept of work that ultimately will allow one to get food.
For anyone to work in a foreign country, it's mandatory to have a permit or a visa, or whatever kind of documents that allows grants the right to work abroad.
In Portugal, a working visa is only given after IDICT confirms that there are no problems for that person to work. A person must have be totally legal in bureaucratic terms; he or she must have all the social security paper work, the Number of the Finance ministry in order, a visa of residence, and so many others.
Supposing a person is already working and wants to renew the visa, to get the right to work for another year, it must be proven that there are reasons valid for granting such.
To prove that you are working, you must have a contract validated by IDICT, if not the visa maybe denied, and without it, you may be deported to your country of origin, where most of the times the realities are grim.
The line of people that repeats itself everyday, as clockwork, can only explain by this despair of cause.
What else will lead people, in a foreign country to wake up in the middle of a winter's night?
In my own case, I had to dwell with this in my Canadian past. Sometimes, it's hard to face the truth of the world, however, in a dream you will face the night's demons and angels and find the inspiration to carry on towards your goals.
dedicated to Hernani Leonardo Silvestre - the best side kick against bureaucracy
Prelude for a journey
Life can set us up with moments that can seem truly dammed, yet if one is smart enough they can be transformed in something truly blessed.
I believe some clarification is in order.
I am currently with my sister as her assistant in managing a restaurant.
For all those of you, who dream eagerly for a business of your own, I must say these wise words:
"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!" - I got a little help from Ren and Stimpy with this last sentence.
The amount of detail a business cares for is enough to make you become a drone in a society that produces systematic chain of events always happening with the same purpose, with a mere changing of cast.
Working as a waiter can be truly fun, because you get to know a whole universe of egos that can only compete with the Naughty session of the Yellow Pages. This knowledge can be used to write a Ph. D. in Phsycology about behaviour in our society.
Working as an assistant manager can be consuming, as you have to start talking to numbers as if you were one of them, and have to care for your fellow colleagues as if they were little babies always needing for care and sympathy. In a nutshell, to be quite good you have to know how to balance between altruism and selfishness without entering too deep in neither of them. This knowledge can help you in becoming insane.
Bureaucracy is an amazing thing and it tends to world domination as the years fly by.
Alas, for this restaurant to succeed in the world empire of food, we must also become friends with the mighty RED TAPE DICTATORSHIP.
This last week, we were informed of the need to inform IDICT about all the contracts we have with foreigner people. IDICT is the Portuguese entity that oversees all the details concerning job conditions and legislation. For simplicity sake I prefer to refer this little universe of horrors as IDICT.
Chapter 1 - THE IDICT
The first step I had to do was to get instructions in how to act. Calling IDICT proved a wise choice as it revealed some information concerning the documents I had to present, but somehow I was only informed for 2 urgent cases.
My first trip to this fine Factory of RED TAPE showed me the reality that was presented before my eyes was in fact concealing me the truth. I consider my self a truthful representation of the naïve class.
Optimistically, I got there on a beautiful afternoon, and got the answer that I could only clear my case if I had a ticket. 60 tickets are distributed once everyday at 9.00 am.
Never abandoned by my optimism, I went there a second time, and I thought I should be a bit more cautious so I decide to arrive at 8.00 am; just to make sure I would get a ticket.
The line of people, who froze while waiting, for what was to be our common fate (THE QUEST OF THE TICKET), stretched all the way as to bend the block and went down that street quite bit!
Everyday 60 tickets are given, that day I got none!
From time to time the Gods of the Universe place us in situations that we have to win at all cost. This opens those kinds of questions where, regardless of the odds, the answer must be in the vicinity of Yes or Yes.
This brings me to that first aspect I was talking about:
Life can set us up with moments that can seem truly dammed, yet if one is smart enough they can be transformed in something truly blessed.
Apparently I was dammed to wait in line for what look like an eternity. How do I turn this in my advantage?
Fortunately, I am blessed for having the finest group of friends in the Universe, who care for me; they are in all the corners of the world.
Hernani Leonardo Silvestre, a true friend and a caring soul, accepted to become my side kick for a little adventure I was about to have, as he was kind enough to accompany me through a all-nighter.
Chapter 2 - All the animals come out at Night
The plan was simple.
After I would leave work, Hernani would pick me up and we would burn a few hours until 6.00 am, when we would go to IDICT's door where we would patiently await for the 9.00 am, the feeding of tickets hour.
1.00 a.m.
Hernani picks me up at the restaurant, and we decide to go somewhere and grab a byte to eat.
2.00 a.m.
By that time we were driving through the streets of Lisbon, in the coldest autumn's night of 2003, more reminiscent of a cold winter's night of 2002.
The secret for holding on for so many hours without losing the battle with sleep, is to get distracted. Anything goes!
As we drove around, we started rumbling on about superficial aspects of the world.
Between many one was elected as the top discussion event of the 2 of December night.
I remember arguing about the criterion used to decide the winners of the employee of the month award.
"Probably, they decide it with a tossing of coin" - that was my initial hypothesis.
"That seems unlikely, how would they do if they would have more than 2 workers"
"I got it! They count all the workers, and divide them into 2 groups, and then toss the coin"
"And then what?"
"Then which ever group wins, they divide the number of people from that group into 2 groups, and repeat the procedure again, until they end up with a final winner, that will be the employee of the month!" - this was my brilliant thesis, I remember think my parents would probably be so proud in the money they invested in my Biotechnology course, while they slept!
As we kept talking, we came to a red light, and we look at a convenience store, that stood near by.
The funny thing about convenience stores in Lisbon is that they are only convenient until 2.00 am, after that they become inconvenient according to someone who lives during the day, bright notion. I would say the kind of notion that strikes us down, sometime around noon. Oh well!
Inside the store we notice an employee, cleaning up.
"Do you think that poor fellow there, became an employee of the month?" - Hernani asked.
"Maybe"
As we look carefully, we notice a second man, standing right outside the door of the closed store.
"Is he pissing?" - Hernani asked.
"I guess so" - I replied without believing my own sight.
There we both stood, waiting for our light to gives freedom from that sight, as we watched, the workingman and the pissing man!
Thanks to that we had subject for a substantial part of our long night.
We argued about the possibility of he being a pissed of client that took his role a little bit to literally, or perhaps a former employee of the month that was passing water to his ex-colleague.
I wonder still, would the piss get inside the store! Would that be enough to piss the current holder of the best employee of the month award, hence producing two living fountains that were peeing at each other?
Chapter 3 - IDICT RELOADED
By 5.30 we decide to proceed for our waiting place, a nice cold outside of a building, where we would be the first people to gaze at the door.
I thought we were going to beat the world record of showing up at an early hour to get inside the Red Tape Store!
The world however spits on my face once again, and calls me sucker.
I got there and a line of 12 people had already formed and waited to see the first bus start it's circulating round; the sun waking up; the first clerks arrival at work with their tidal smell waves of perfume; and finally the big stare, with a face that had been in the cool freezing breeze of December for the past 3 or 4 hours, as the nice security officer would hand out the long waited prize.
For 3 hours we dreamt about heating units, hot meals, while arguing about the unfair state of the roads in Lisbon and the odd situation of the tollbooths from suburb to suburb.
In fact that experience, was quite amusing thanks to Hernani, as we conceived this race of people who knit eagerly at work, just before 9.00 am dictates the start of a new processing day.
This lead me o believe that I was in some sort of race; Unfortunately, the Brazilian, the Chinese, the Ukrainian, the Moldavian, and a whole bunch more whose countries I can't quite place, overtook us. I must confess that Guinea Bissau got first place. This is even more extraordinary if when I realized that the winning lady was carrying a 6 months old baby! Amazing Reality!
As promised the prize ceremony for phase one came to be at 9.00 am. Being placed in 12th meant that I only had to wait one hour more inside the gymno-bureaucratic complex for phase two.
The building was field with all sorts of things, where schizophrenic rooms with few chairs, too few to mention, helped us consumed the final waiting hour.
In the core of the Red Tape Competition, you only get one chance at phase two, either you have your forms CB123, DL15323, WEG2131, AR8654F and not forgetting the JFGREW434521, completed with several copies and all signed accordingly, or you are disqualified for that day, and must restart from phase one all over again.
Life was not unfair to me, I was so lucky, my Yes or Yes emergency was solved. However, due to the wonderful success of this feature of adventures, the nice clerk that attended me, said:
"You still have to do this one more time, as you still need to bring the documents for all the other foreigner employees that are currently working in your restaurant"
TO BE CONTINUED IN IDICT REVOLUTIONS
A small conclusion about my case and reality
Life is extraordinary with all the myriad of causalities that presents us in our simple journey.
If I didn't experienced all of this; the pissing man vs. the employee of the month battle; the fun world of red tape and all its ludicrous aspects; I would not be telling you this now.
I am trying to describe all this in good humour, because it's not my ass on the line, even if I did what I did, because I wanted to prevent someone else to be in trouble.
After all, any immigration process demands an overload of bureaucracy from time to time.
Societies copy cat each other in their methods.
People must eat, but before they must get money to buy food.
Typically, money is not handed out, so societies developed this concept of work that ultimately will allow one to get food.
For anyone to work in a foreign country, it's mandatory to have a permit or a visa, or whatever kind of documents that allows grants the right to work abroad.
In Portugal, a working visa is only given after IDICT confirms that there are no problems for that person to work. A person must have be totally legal in bureaucratic terms; he or she must have all the social security paper work, the Number of the Finance ministry in order, a visa of residence, and so many others.
Supposing a person is already working and wants to renew the visa, to get the right to work for another year, it must be proven that there are reasons valid for granting such.
To prove that you are working, you must have a contract validated by IDICT, if not the visa maybe denied, and without it, you may be deported to your country of origin, where most of the times the realities are grim.
The line of people that repeats itself everyday, as clockwork, can only explain by this despair of cause.
What else will lead people, in a foreign country to wake up in the middle of a winter's night?
In my own case, I had to dwell with this in my Canadian past. Sometimes, it's hard to face the truth of the world, however, in a dream you will face the night's demons and angels and find the inspiration to carry on towards your goals.
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