There was a girl who lived in a land of perpetual summer. She could not imagine it would come to an end sooner than she thought. Teresa lived with her family in a huge house, surrounded by a luscious garden. She, her brother and playmates capered in the shade of massive trees and played games of make-believe where princes and princesses fought dragons and wizards and saved the day and fell in love. In that garden, where her …
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This story is about a girl. Teresa. It begins in 1975, when she’s only twelve. She’s just left her homeland, Mozambique, a former Portuguese colony, now riven by revolution and madness. In the wake of civil war, fear and terror crack open Teresa’s idyllic childhood. Even the family pets act distraught. Granny no longer tends to her roses. Everybody starts sleeping in the same room, afraid of knives in the night. They must flee the land they have …
On April 25, 1974, the sun also rose. Little did Teresa know that day marked the absolute end of childhood. Thousands of miles away in Lisbon, the capital of a crumbling empire, the military had turned against the heads of state, and people had taken to the street en masse, handing out carnations to armed men who never fired a single shot. The ‘New State’ was no more. News of the revolution reached Mozambique the following day. Teresa’s …
At times like these, when you stand in awe of the vast changes reworking your life, and you ask yourself whether you’ll ever get back so many of the things you took for granted, it’s inevitable to hark back to the good old days and wish for a time machine. It doesn’t matter how kind life has been to me, how much I love my sons, or how much fulfilment I’ve found in my career — nothing compares to …
There was a girl who lived in a land of perpetual summer. She could not imagine it would come to an end sooner than she thought. Teresa lived with her family in a huge house, surrounded by a luscious garden. She, her brother and playmates capered in the shade of massive trees and played games of make-believe where princes and princesses fought dragons and wizards and saved the day and fell in love. In that garden, where her …
It was a spring-like day; one of those February days when the sun shines so bright, the sky is incredibly blue, and you feel warm for the first time after so many months. It makes you wonder if spring has come early this year – and you enjoy it. We sat on the balcony of my friend’s charming apartment in an old building of a traditional Lisbon quarter, on a steep street like so many others that go …
Amazing how I had never heard this song. I came across it when I was going through my Facebook account, as the musical background of a video with images from the 80’s TV series The Thorn Birds, based on the bestselling 1977 novel by Colleen McCullough. Anyone who has watched that series, or read the book, will never forget the most romantic, and tragic, love story between Ralph, a handsome priest, played by Richard Chamberlain, and Meggie, a girl he has …
Today I dreamed of him. It happened during those moments when I am neither in deep sleep nor fully awake – I call it the twilight zone. Many creative ideas come to me when I am in that frontier between sleep and wakefulness, but then, if this was a dream – and it was – I must have dozed, for how could I otherwise explain those vivid, too real images that crossed my mind? I almost never …
This story is about a girl. Teresa. It begins in 1975, when she’s only twelve. She’s just left her homeland, Mozambique, a former Portuguese colony, now riven by revolution and madness. In the wake of civil war, fear and terror crack open Teresa’s idyllic childhood. Even the family pets act distraught. Granny no longer tends to her roses. Everybody starts sleeping in the same room, afraid of knives in the night. They must flee the land they have …
Under my bed I keep a few plastic boxes filled with memories of the past: my childhood diaries, old photos, love letters from sweethearts long gone from my life, even if not totally forgotten, wallets from high school and university days, drawings and the sweetest messages from my boys on Mother’s Day. I even found a sort of play written by Beli and me during a Criminal Law class that had me laughing to tears at how our incredible …
