What is this thing called home

Essalamu alaykum
I was born with this greeting in my ears and it's only now, more than three decades later, that I understood one fundamental thing. God bless my grandfather for making me get that.
Most people know that this expression, used as good day or hello, literally means "peace on you". What most people do not know, unless they speak Arabic,  is that the "you" is a plural form.  Obviously, the answer comes similar, Wa Alaykum essalam , plural form again. As if "you" when greeted were not only one person but many.
And this indeed is the answer! You, me , whoever, are never alone. For as my grandfather says, everyone of us has an angel on each shoulder. They're writing your good or bad deeds and thoughts for after, when the final countdown comes. They also catch you if you fall, if they're not too busy writing. So when you greet someone you mean to greet the person and their two angels. It would be rude not to greet these two, that's certain.
My grandfather knows a lot of things, he's been on this earth for nearly a full century. He always knew no one had ever stepped on the moon, because "come on, it's ridiculous, it's too far, how could they get there". When he talks, forget what you ever learned at school, and just listen.
Because when you cross the strait and you get here, it's like passing through a magic mirror. Another world.
Where construction works on  tramways are not made to improve the city-life, but to block major axes, and thus  prevent the passing of big demonstrations. Where a roundabout in some places is in fact a pile of garbage in the middle of the road.
It's a world of storytellers - no wonder I've always been inventing stories- .
There may be a thin line between "reality" and not so much "reality", but no one knows where it lies and no one tries to define it. It doesn't really matter. The most important is to live things and keep going. And listen. I do have a hard time the first days after arrival, it's not easy to get back to to the other side of the mirror. So I resist, until the atmosphere slowly soaks back into me. I wonder what my angels say about that, but at least , inhere, the voices are not whispering "have a beer, have a beer".  They may be shocked by the change as well so they remain silent. Who knows. At least they do not have to answer when someone greets them, I do it for them.
My grandfather has seen three kings succeeding, he has seen the French and the Spanish in his land, he's seen them leave. He comes from the desert, doesn't eat fish although he's lived most of  his life on the coast. When he was already over 90 years old a gas cylinder exploded in his face. The explosion blew the windows of the house but my grandfather stayed alive and despite heavy burns on the face and the hands, he was back home from hospital after only 7 days. I think he's something like a robocop. Inhere they may say it is thanks to his baraka , this  blessing given to those descending from the prophet Muhammad. (or MAOMETTO as they call him in Italian, no it is not an ice cream I swear!!!)  I like my grandfather's world where forty angels pull the sun up at dawn to make it rise and then down to have it set. How could you not listen to that and not believe it, even for one brief moment?
Even my angels seem to listen, unless they're chatting with his angels and I don't know about it.
Who knows.
Peace on you all, people and angels

Meeting the Jamanta; or why Portugal keeps on surprising me

"What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams"  
Werner Herzog


We had slept only two hours, woke up still tipsy judging from our nonsensical blabbering in the bus which no one could understand for making up new words and verb forms such as "si je chwaziland" at the crossovers of our multiple language conversation. Nevertheless, we were tired, but happy, for what was awaiting us on the other side of our journey was worth it. 
Beach house was the reward : surrounded by water, Atlantic ocean in front, Ria Formosa behind, blue sky all above, what more to ask for? 
Time for suspending the clock, lying immobile like a lizard, suntanning till burning and shedding an old skin  to finally come out as a new person. Time for diving in the fresh Atlantic embrace, feeling humble in front of its swell and releasing all kind of sorrow in its depths. Time for childish joy while getting rolled over by the waves, crashing into warm sand or collecting shells and pebbles. Time for evening drinks outside, clinking glasses with the setting sun and seeing (a few drinks later)  fallen stars shine on the dark ocean surface before drowning.
Our first few days were as peaceful as the skyline and our evenings were punctuated by sessions held on the balcony where our parlor was improvised,  receiving our dear friends from the mainland for the time of a frugal dinner and several bursts of laughter disrupting the calm of the night. 


Was it because of the storm on the fourth day,  was it for the fallen sinking star we had seen the night before, or was it just because someone had mentioned,  on one of these late dinners, the possible presence of a "Jamanta" in the waters of Ria Formosa? 


Anyway, the day after the storm, even though the sky was clear again, the ocean was still tormented and too rough to swim, so we decided to take a daytrip on the Ria Formosa and do some bird watching. We woke up at dawn, crossed the bridge to take the bus to Faro city center and catch the boat on the peer. It had definitely been a great idea : the boat trip on the lagoon was breathtaking. If the Great Lisbon Earthquake and the following 15 m high tsunami of 1755 caused a lot of damage everywhere, it had at least one positive aspect: the one of shaping the amazing Ria Formosa into its actual form. We enjoyed our day to the most including a stop on the (not so) Desert island  where we could greet our jolly fisherman we had met a few months before on our first trip to Portugal. On the way back, I was a bit tired so I left the group of people to sit on the stern of the boat and watch the sunset. Here I was daydreaming again, looking at the quiet water when I suddenly  saw a large stain a few meters away. I first thought the water was just a bit more shallow on that spot... but the stain was moving. 
And then, it happened: the Jamanta appeared in all its grandeur,  flapping its large wings on the surface as if to fly out of the water. I was so surprised I couldn't make a move, was just staring at this thing reminding of a giant bat. I had the time to look into one of its side eyes which seemed to wink at me and a second later it splashed back in the water and disappeared in the darkness. I had never seen anything like that, and was pretty sure these animals were to be found only in tropical waters. The discussion I had heard some days before about a Jamanta in the lagoon had sounded like a joke to me, some kind of urban legend. But here was the reality before my eyes. I quickly ran to the other side of the boat to find everybody chilling and talking as if nothing had happened. As I was all excited telling them what I had just seen, they first listened and seemed just surprised, but when I said the Jamanta had a wingspan of approximately 7 meters, some laughed and some tapped their forehead while looking at me. To make it short, they didn't believe me. So I looked at the only person who knew me well enough to know I couldn' t have made it up, begging for support. But he only shrugged and pointed at his "Boytoy" necklace with an ironic smile. My eyes flashed with rage and I looked all around wishing the Jamanta would reappear to prove me right. But the water was all calm again, and we were nearly reaching the peer. 


Now I wonder if I was not carried away by my daydreaming. But I still tell you, that if one day you travel to Algarve, you should keep your eyes and mind open, for maybe, if you're lucky, you'll be blessed by the sight of that elegant water flying creature called Jamanta. 
Maybe. 
Or maybe not.








 Jamanta :  a.k.a. Manta ray or Devil ray