Reflecting on this past thursday reminds me of an independent film that I just flipped to and I can’t figure out what it’s supposed to mean, and nothing really significant every happens but the whole string of events make it bizarre and therefore holds my attention.  First, to set the scene, this movie is in Lisbon and the sun is brightly shining.. its like everything is viewed through a yellow filter, actually.  Then, whatever language it is filmed in is vague, so it’s all subtitled to make a little cohesion (this is because some of my life is in Portuguese, some in English, and some i dont really understand but I have it in my head anyway).  So, the main character, whom you never see (i dont have a mirror in my room so I never really know what I look like anyway) wakes up and goes out to lunch and eats a big fish.  Then, she goes to the metro station to pick up her card, just running errands…  Now it gets weird. 

A colleague at MDM has arranged a Portuguese lesson for me in a part of town that I have never been to before.  I get on the bus which I assume goes there and am staying as alert as possible.  When I think I’m close, I ask the person next to me and show him the post-it note i have with the address.  He tells me to get off at the next stop and take this other bus to go up the hill or something.. But, i think he’s wrong from my previous consultation with my map.  So I get off on four lane, main street that seems completely isolated, then I instantly start to get sweaty.  Visualizing the map in my head, I take a smaller street up to the right and walk for like two minutes and then, miraculously, I pass the sign that says CAIS, the organization that I am looking for!  But, since Im a lot earlier than I expected to be I keep walking and buy some Cheetos, but they’re a weird flavor and it’s very disappointing. 

I return to CAIS and peep inside; it looks empty.  I ring the bell of the green door a little old woman appears and she is expecting me.  She tells me that i must use the other door next time, but since its my first time she leads me through the building to this long trapezoidal courtyard.  The classroom where my Portuguese lesson will be was empty and she has me sit at one of several tables outside in the shade of a huge tree dropping little yellow flowers all over the place.  THen this Slovakian guy appears who she introduces me to, and asks him to introduce me to the teacher.  He tells me about eight times to not be scared (in english) and I’m trying to correct all of my body language that could be convincing him that Im scared (this is weird, but not scary).  Then a couple of other students showed up and class started.

THe teacher asks me my name and where I was from, both questions that I am able to respond to in Portuguese.  Then, she asks her other three students to ask me questions.  There is the Slovakian, a Sri Lankan, and a Nigerian.  They don’t ask me anything until the teacher basically put the words in their mouths.  At one point someone asks me if i worked, “yes, i work here, do you work?” “No, I’m a refugee here”.  Just casual language class discussion…  Ultimately, this class is not what I’m looking for. The material we covered is a little bit more elementary than I want, but the experience was interesting.  I take a bus back to the metro, escorted by the Nigerian even though I assure him I would be fine.

At work I go out with Noite Saudavel.  It is not particularily busy: some people stop by to pick up condoms, some old people need some pills, some guys need to swap syringes.  I stay in the van for observation of some patients, and stand outside with the Ukranian some of the time, pointing at things and being told the how to say it in Portuguese.  Then the Portuguese people laugh at the cycles of mispronounciations. 

Then, this bus driver shows up (recognizable by his kaki colored collared t-shirt embroidered with “carris”).  He explains that there is a woman that won’t leave leave his bus.  I have no idea what he thinks Médicos do Mundo will do, but we cross the street to where the bus is parked and there’s this old woman sitting in the very front seat.  She doesn’t say anything or respond to questions such as “where are you going?” “do you need help?” etc… she shakes her head and nods sometimes and is clutching a key, presumably to her home, in one hand.  MdM talks with her for a bit, but no progress is made and then they call the police.  So, a few minutes later three police show up and they persuade her to leave the bus by gently guiding her arm.  The old lady gets off the bus and starts walking down the median of this busy street.  One of the workers from MdM accompanies her for a little while, but she knows where she’s going, apparently, and still isn’t talking to anyone.  So then we go back to the van.  That’s all.