Childlike Joy and Resilience

Obrigado - Thank You - for coming along on this journey with us. To share in what we learn about the

history of Portugal and the Poesia da Vida Portuguesa.

This trip has been one big adventure for an 8 year old. New experiences and lots of excitement. Kind of fun too for a 40 year old mom and dad to live again through our child's eyes, a chance to feel the thrills anew.

On the day we left, we ate lunch near the Toronto airport with planes landing close overhead. Difficult to say goodbye to Zion's best cousin, TJ, and the Sarabandos and Bells staying in Ontario but a great chance to a say see you soon and I love yous.

Once we arrived at the airport, Z took it all in for the first time, grabbing the window seat on the plane to get the very best experience from start to finish. The sun had just set for our evening take-off, all of the city lights growing smaller as we climbed higher in the sky. Zion's world bigger than he once thought. Settling in to his seat he chose a movie and played games while the Captain kept us informed, Sleeping was the hardest but managed longer than mama and papa.

A flight attendant told him that if we waited at our destination for most people to exit the plane, he could meet the Captain and check out the cockpit. Wow, that's a lot of tempting buttons and knobs.

Portugal! An arrival filled with the hope of enjoyable experiences and a little hesitant anticipation of the unknown. So different. Yet so full of the same...Lego, Cristiano Ronaldo and Futebol!

The beauty of our connection here is a feeling of "home" with local built-in friends and family. A weaving of our way through a poesia da vida Portuguesa,

Zion and his prima, Vivian (below), get along most of the time!

For the first month, outdoor activities were put on hold with heavy rains & cold winds, locals commenting on it being the "worst" winter in the last few years. But if Zion worried about the wave warnings and hurricane drills, I couldn't tell past the curiosity to see what a 15m wave looked like.

Bundled up, we headed to the main beach in our town. Apparently, hurricane winds are enough to shut down the wooden boardwalk on the cliff at the edge of the Ocean. So we drove a few miles down the road to check Vagos, the beach on the dunes. No caution tape here. Just steps covered in sand, pristine untouched sand. That is, until Zion arrived.

How satisfying to make your mark on the world. A childlike reminder to fully take part in the risks on nature's playground. A chance to conquer that staircase covered in sand, give chase to the birds, or tease the lip of the water even when your shoes might get wet. Memories made together by the sheer thrill of it all.

 The desire to witness o mar está bravo (the sea that is brave) provided a powerful display of the roaring Lion of Judah.

Two months in and missing friends and family at home, Zion continues to be resilient. There are struggles and there are challenges but he loves it here. His Avó's house is big and beautiful and the views are peaceful and bright. Staying here and taking care of this house is also taking care of us. We are deeply thankful for the history it represents and the family's labour of love that we now enjoy.

The regular power and water, a newly renovated kitchen, five unique bedrooms, bright windows and the well built exterior to hold off the threat of the nearby Ocean.

Zion is proud of his new sun-lit room, white furniture and attic ceiling. Taking good care of it for Tia Sarah, keeping it clean and making his bed. The work desk in full use, drawing trucks and writing letters to his penpals and Grandma & Grandpa!

The Sarabando Family has poured into us as we delve into this opportunity. Blessed by our proximity to Tia and Tio and Bisavós (Great Grandparents), who might happen to stop in with fruit and veggies, or a big pot of soup to keep us well fed.

Zion's favourite is Canja - the Portuguese version of chicken noodle soup - but with smaller noodles and lots of flavour. Nobody can make it like his Great Grandma, Avó Tuna, can (well maybe not "nobody" since Avó Rosa and Tia Maria rival for the best). Devouring meat, fish and seafood of every kind, Zion is always hungry and hasn't said no to a Portuguese meal yet! We eat oranges everyday from the tree in our yard but I think we've picked and eaten them all, so now we pick them at Avó Tuna's house - hers never seem to run out.

Spending a lot of time in the grocery story, we've found new favourites, good deals and products that are mostly made in Portugal but a challenge to keep our stocks refilled for this growing boy and his appetite.

When he's not eating, it's time for soccer! The "soccer net" is actually a tall concrete wall with the goal designated in between two black spots. Constant reminders of "keep it low" and we still manage to lose the ball to the top of the wall! Tia Russa (rrroll your R), a sweet and smiley Great Aunt is gracious to Zion every time he retrieves his ball from their garden. She speaks slowly and repeats words we ought to know. Neighbours and cousins are friendly and are helping us learn Portuguese.

In the super cute nearby town of Costa Nova, we played soccer all Sunday afternoon at a small field with astroturf and large nets where Pedro used to play as a boy. An impromptu game started up and Zion has asked to go back every day since.

Sunday is particularly important here, especially lunchtime. Restaurants and cafés everywhere are packed with locals dressed in their finest. It's not even tourist season yet and busy doesn't begin to cut it. As for the three of us, we've kept it low key and explored a few small beach towns and bakeries and enjoyed our first TRIPA, a thick crêpe like dough with a chocolate bar inside.

On the weekdays, Zion enjoys morning cartoon channels on the TV, while Mama gets ready for the day. Papa's off to work nearby, fun to visit him on the job site and "help him work". We take long walks or bike rides through the neighbourhood and nearby Floresta but keep watch to race home before any dark clouds roll in. After lunch, visiting Bisavós' house, collecting wood and fruit has become a homeschool subject as we learn Portuguese and tend the farm.

Homeschooling has been a challenge, a constant struggle between screens and boredom. We've had to adjust our expectations and our timing to allow for the delicate balance of alone time, play time and learning time. The local school is a short walk away for Zion so we're thinking about enrolling if our paperwork arrives in time. Would be nice to meet new friends, accelerate language learning and integrate in to our community here. It is not normal to see kids around during school hours.

We took a field trip to this brilliant free museum designed for kids, Aldeia Museu José Franco. Having the place to ourselves allowed us to explore every nook and cranny.

In the 1950s's, José e Helena Franco began building a village to share with all visitors, especially children, the culture, identity, customs and traditions of the Saloia region. They spent many years together crafting and creating a mini universe out of terracota clay with a focus on meticulous detail, especially in the facial features. The little houses set throughout the property were decorated to tell the story of Saloian Professionals and filled with traditional tools and visuals that are so fun to explore. Some areas even lighting up and turning on with sounds and movement at the push of a big red button. Various animal habitats make for a few different petting zoo opportunities.

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Aldeia Museu José Franco

"Together, José and Helena made a shared dream come true, shaping and consolidating the important work that the José Franco Village Museum represents for the municipality of Mafra and for Portugal."

Again, the theme of resilience and maintenance woven through rich history and brilliant design for generations of children and the young at heart to enjoy. Quality work takes time and patience, a waiting with faith for God and his perfect timing. Through the challenges that come, may we be ever present in the constant disciplines of learning and refining. Ever striving to recover with grace, joy and childlike resilience.