How to cope with immigrant’s pain. Como lidar com a dor do imigrante.

Tough topic. Though necessary. When I talk about my feelings I feel better, and I get warm messages from you guys, saying that I help you deal with your own feelings. So here we go again, mamma mia.

I’ve read other immigrants saying things like: Your life is never going to be complete again. You’ll always feel incomplete, not fully belonging to your homeland, nor fully belonging to your new country. I DISAGREE. Firstly, each immigrant has her/his own history, experience, feelings, even moments.

How you react to life in Norway may be totally different from how your twin sister does. Secondly, even you change from time to time. If you move to Norway at the age of 17, your feelings and experience may be different from in your 30’s.

I didn’t leave Brazil because I rejected it. I left because of love. Love for my husband. A Norwegian man. Maybe that’s why whenever I come back to Brazil, I feel at home. Though it may take a couple of days to adjust myself to Brazilian lifestyle again. This time, it was corona pandemic anti infection measures I had to adapt. In Norway, face masks aren’t mandatory anymore. In Brazil I had to wear them all the time.

When it comes to feelings, I could easily live in Brazil again. It’s not in our plans, but we’d love to, someday. I walk on the streets and I am 100% Brazilian. This time, after two and a half years, I was thirsty for Brazil. The moment I opened the door at the international airport in Belo Horizonte and met Brazilian fresh air, I felt like a sponge soaking up water. It was like all my body cells were dehydrated and immediately began to fill up again with Brazilianity (I know. I’ve just invented the word). How I missed Brazilian warmth and humidity. It was contemplation holidays. I spent time admiring the flowers that bloom in the Fall, observing the birds in my neighborhood come to drink water in our fountain. I had fresh eyes to everything. My mom telling stories, throwing her arms in the air like Italians do. There it is. That’s where I got my gesticulation from. Meeting my 101-year-old grandmother was touching. She smells as sweet as last time. I love it. Her vivid eyes and love for me and my family. We had a blast playing the piano together. All four generations: great grandmother, grandmother, mother and daughter. It’s priceless. Those moments we carry inside us forever.

Do you know which typical Brazilian sentence I miss the most in Norway? “God bless you”. You hear it from the doorman at your doctor’s office’s building. From the guy at the juice kiosk. From, of course, your family. Apart from religion, this sentence means to me: I care about you. I’ve taught my husband this sentence so that I can hear it in Norway too, when I leave the house.

And then, at the end of the holidays, there comes the time to leave. Time to say goodbye. Goodbye to my family. Friends. Scorching sun. “Bem-te-vis” (birds that sing “I saw you”) waking me up in the morning. Traffic noise. Crowds. Smiles everywhere. Strangers asking you private questions. Advice you didn’t ask for. Hugs and more hugs. Dramatic soap operas. It hurts. Every time I need to leave, it hurts. And you know what? It hurts, but I’m getting better at farewells. I know that’s part of my life. I love living in Norway and I feel complete here too. It took me years, but I can say that now. I don’t feel like a half.

I always have in mind that time helps relieve the pain. If it hurts really bad right now, have in mind that everything shall pass. It does. Embrace the pain. Talk to yourself. Let this feeling come out. Cry as much as you need. With time, when you arrive in your new country, you get back to your routine, you’ll feel better, eventually. The days when I’m back to Norway, I feel so much gratitude for the wonderful moments I had in Brazil. Gratitude helps me cope with the pain. It also helps me be in the moment. Focus on what I can do good right now.

Then I’m back to Stavanger. It’s Spring now. That helps a lot. After a long cold Winter, flowers are blooming everywhere. The sun is brighter and stronger. I see more smiling faces. We can spend time outside. I feel more energy, more optimism. It takes me a couple of days to disconnect to my routine in Brazil and focus on my routine in Norway. I miss talking to my dad early in the morning, while we drink coffee and listen to the birds. I like his skin temperature, warm and cozy. I miss our hugs. I leave audio messages to him instead. So that he can hear me in the morning when he wakes up. It’s five hours earlier in Brazil. Instead of suffering and complaining, I find a way to be present to him.

If you are struggling in this adaptation phase, look at the sky. Look around you. Look for the beauty exactly where you are. Stop comparing both countries, because it’s impossible. Countries have different geography, climate, history, culture, attractions, etc. As much as you love your homeland, in the new country there will be other flowers, and other birds, and other beauty. There will be other challenges and other victories. Look for the good and good you’ll find. Be strong in your self esteem so that don’t demand it from others.

Find reasons, or even create reasons to connect to your new country, to bond. It’s our job, the immigrants’. It can be done. It makes a difference and helps us enjoy and feel at home.

Tell me here how it has been for you.

Hugs,

Juliana.

A DOR DO IMIGRANTE

É um tópico delicado. Como sempre recebo mensagens agradecendo por eu tocar nesse assunto, vou abrir meu coração para você. Morar fora do seu país traz junto uma dor. A dor das chegadas e partidas. Da despedida. Não posso mentir: dói a cada vez. Para mim, não passa a doer menos à medida que o tempo passa. Jà estou na Noruega há nove anos e dói igual. Agora, com o buraco que a pandemia deixou, tivemos dois anos e meio afastados do Brasil, vejo muitos imigrantes brasileiros chegando com sede, para visitar a pátria amada.

Quando eu saí do aeroporto internacional Tancredo Neves, perto de Belo Horizonte, era como se eu fosse uma esponja dentro de um copo d’água. Como se as minhas células imediatamente começassem a se encher de calor e umidade. Estavam desidratadas de Brasil.

Já li alguns imigrantes dizendo que a sua vida nunca mais será a mesma, que você nunca mais vai se sentir inteiro. Nem no novo país, nem no país de origem. Eu DISCORDO. Primeiro, porque cada ser humano é diferente, é único. Cada experiência sua é única. Até mesmo sua irmã gêmea pode perceber a Noruega de forma diferente de você. Segundo, porque até você mesmo(a) pode ter leituras opostas de uma mesma experiência, em épocas diversas. Exemplo: se vier aqui aos 15 anos e se vier na faixa dos 30. Tudo muda. No meu caso, eu não saí do Brasil porque eu o rejeitava. Eu saí sofrendo. Amava estar onde eu estava. Apaixonada pelo Rio de Janeiro, com todos os prós e contras. Saí por amor ao meu marido, um homem norueguês. E fui me apaixonando pela Noruega. Aos poucos. Lembre-se disso, pode levar um tempinho para você se acostumar, se inteirar da situação nova. Dê esse tempo, sem cobranças do novo país, nem auto cobranças de fazer sucesso em tudo logo de cara.

Quando visito o Brasil, eu me sinto 100% brasileira. Posso levar uns dois dias para me adaptar à rotina, mas nada demais. Dessa vez, a adaptação foi aos protocolos de anti infecção do corona vírus.

Quando volto à Noruega, levo uns dias para deixar de sofrer. Sofro na ida e na volta. E não acho que isso vai mudar. Sinto saudades de dizer bom dia para meu pai, de tomar café com ele, do calor da sua pele, seu abraço. Saudades dos encontros de gerações: minha filha, eu, minha mãe e minha avó de 101 anos. Desta vez, todas tocamos piano juntas. Foi memorável. Coisas que a gente leva dentro do peito para sempre. Sinto imensa gratidão. A gratidão me ajuda a passar por esses dias difíceis da volta. O que muda é que agora eu sei que tudo passa. Aprendi a viver no momento presente. Sem me lamentar, sem reclamar e questionar. Sei onde estou nesse exato momento e farei o meu melhor. Choro, mas deixo ir.

O pior que você pode fazer é ficar comparando os dois países. Primeiro que isso é impossível. Cada país tem sua história, geografia, cultura, clima. Segundo, que isso traz sofrimento. Sofrimento por querer estar em outro lugar, ou sofrimento por rejeitar um deles.

No novo país, terão outras flores, e outros pássaros. E outros problemas. E outras alegrias.

Se você está passando pela delicada fase de adaptação em outro país, todo meu acolhimento e carinho a você. Vai passar, Vai melhorar. Tenha olhos bons para enxergar o hoje, o agora. Criar vínculos com o novo país depende só da gente.

Conta aqui como está sendo para você.

Abraços,

Juliana.