Over the Tracks

When I walk to Basketball or look outside my window. I can see the broken down neighborhood just over the tracks. The buildings are old and worn down, the streets are slanted and covered with potholes. Yet the people are happy. Walking up and down the streets stopping at every window they see a familiar face in. I like walking through the neighborhood, smelling the fresh fruit when I pass the fruit stand, the meat at the butcher or the pastries at the pastry shops.


                                                              Over the Tracks


It's amazing how little kids can be so nice to you in broken-down neighborhoods. They come up and hug you and you don't even know them. The fifth graders at school never do that. They walk around the school and think that they are the coolest ones there.
Would you believe it or not if I told you I share to the kids over the tracks, by being a pirate. I know what you are thinking, you are picturing me in a pirates costume with an eyepatch and would probably pay to see me. Honestly, it is a little embarrassing walking through neighborhoods dressed as a pirate. Faces turn, people laugh. If I a saw a girl my age dressed as a pirate on a Sunday I would probably laugh to. I have to ask God why am I doing this, but then I realize that I am doing this for him. That's about all the inspiration I need.
You see, I am the bad guy in this skit, along with other pirates. I try to tempt kids in the neighborhood that are watching to be lazy. Then the "Soldier of the King" beats me up and so on. It is a simple play that they understand.
 I have so much fun in these poor neighborhoods because after the skit I get hugged a number of times, yet I also get attacked by sword balloons. I get to experience with them the most fun they have ever had, even when I am a pirate.
Sometimes it isn't the kids that are listening the most, but the people in their apartments looking down or the little old gypsies, even some of the teenagers and troublemakers.
I would rather go to a neighborhood to be a pirate than going and seeing a movie. And that is saying a lot since I love movies.
Sometimes I don't teach the kids they teach me even when I don't even realize it.
My cousins were here for two weeks, and we went to two of these events. They showed me that even when you don't know a word of Portuguese that you can still love on these kids like never before. Who knows you could've given them there first Bible, hug or basketball.
I always pray that there will be children right over the tracks that are opening there bibles for the first time, wondering if someone really does care enough to die for them. Rejoicing after they find that the answer is yes, someone does care enough to die for me.

Almost Portuguese

Hi! I'm Elaina, I'm an ordinary 14 year old high-schooler. Well sort of, apart from the fact that I live on the other side of the globe. When I was only nine years old, I moved from Orlando, Florida (the place I called home) to Portugal. I created this blog for my family, for the people that need inspiration and for the people who feel invisible. I have been there, I know what it feels like.
Some people think it is weird that I was learning my fourth language by the age of twelve or that I have been to over eight different countries. For me, it's completly normal for my parents to go to Switzerland for a week. Some people are jelouse of what an awesome life I have.
It is true, I am really lucky. But, I didn't come here just for any reason. I came here so that others might follow the one person who I trust and put my faith in completely. God!
To do that I have to be Almost Portuguese!

Let It Go

Nine year old me

I was only nine years old when I moved here. It was the first time I felt completely alone. No cousins to play with, no friends to talk with. Sure I had my family and that was great, it just wasn't the same thing.

The hardest thing for me wasn't learning the language or the culture. It was letting go, letting go of all the people that were thousands of miles away, letting go of living in a small town, to living in an apartment in the city.

Just when I thought  my life couldn't change anymore, my Mom found out that she was pregnant. I love babies, but this was crazy, number five. Everything would be different, it wasn't going to be the CC's and EE's, it was going to be like CC's, EE's and Kevin or Hannah. Now that was the last thing I wanted.

My family before number five

Apart from my Mom being pregnant I had an even bigger problem, no a huge problem…SCHOOL. I couldn't believe my parents were going to dump me in a native school when I didn't even know the language. The problem is that my school was only a block away from my apartment. Not only would I see my strange classmates all the time, I would see my teachers to. It couldn't have been any worse.

I remember it well, walking in with my parents. My teacher came up, she was pregnant too. Great, I thought all I need is more pregnant women in my life. She was nice but I din't know her or understand her. The worst was when my parents kissed me goodbye, I begged them to stay, which is the opposite of what I would have done if we were still in America. I think they were more nervous than I was about school. My Mom says it was the hardest thing she has ever had to do.

I would agree.

I remember locking myself in the bathroom at school. It was the one place I could be alone from the crazy portuguese kids, but once again I had to let that go. I realized I was here for a reason and locking myself in the bathroom wasn't going to get me anywhere. For the rest of the year I tried to learn Portuguese. All I wanted to do was to be able to understand them so that I could share with them in their heart language.

They say your fluent when you dream in another language. I remember waking up realizing I had been dreaming in Portuguese. It was like the clouds just parted and I could finally see the sun and the blue sky. I can't remember if I actually believed I was fluent or not, but I knew I was on the right track.

Now I am in high school yet I still look back to the fourth grade and think about what I would have been doing in America if I hadn't moved here. I wouldn't have learned that letting go means saying hello to something new.

24 suitcases and counting

Me after my first year