At the bar table and across the ocean, the conversation was led by Brazilians. Winter was already part of the scene: a sensation of -3°C, it’s freezing cold. A rough day, warm hearts, “lads” and restless minds waiting for the tepid beers, so different from ours. The conversation proceeds, “let’s have a chat” and there and then we had many. Of so many things in common, the most peculiar, that transcended any word spoken, was our love. Love for our land. A love we considered Platonic. A love that brought us courage in face of reality.
We love you, my dear. The distance is a small detail for those who love you. With arms wide open for you, even though yours aren’t open yet. We know of your troubles and faintheartedness. We know even more of your grace, pleasures, and glories. We know that if you ever embrace us; it might be brief, delayed or perhaps it won’t even happen.
Our Terra Brasilis. It’s made of our stories, of a sky filled with storms and countless suns. Brightened up by our families, friends, and varied villains. With seas and many hills, all perfectly poetic with their own imperfections. Each construction, landscape, and sight are visceral. They are there. Our memories, battles, pleasures, and displeasures come from there.
I love you, Brazil; the gentle mother of this land’s children. Be the space and the time, be a short reunion, here and there.
We carry with us our flowers and continue on planting new lands, “solus” and real. Who are we? Where are we going? Where is our home? They want a recipe but, for us, the recipe is to not have one. That which is not palpable – our truth. Our certainties and uncertainties. Our mistakes and successes. Because for us, to live is to be. To exist and to feel our own vessel. We go on like this – we ought to be brave – filled with new narratives and with what we carry in our hearts. The pride of being Brazilian. Since the tide is what guides us, the discoveries are what excite us. Labour and praise, no guns nor ties. Let’s celebrate our metamorphosis. For us, for ours. Everyday.
“Terra Brasilis,” album by Tom Jobim
Barbara Dominguez, born and raised in the east side of Sao Paulo, moved to Dublin in 2015 and in 2019 to Barcelona. When she was a child, she received a gift from her grandfather, a portrait containing some of the meanings for her name, including: “live in poetic elegance” and “love for the arts”. She believes that art is a manifestation of the soul. She is a photographer, a plastic artist, a writer, and is still exploring. Graduated in Public Relations and a Masters focused on Feminism and Advertising. She volunteers for Intimo Colorido, a social organization aimed at empowering women in social vulnerability.
[This chronicle was published in our first printed issue • “Connections Brazil & Ireland” • in Dec 2020]
Translation by Rafael Mendes | Débora Terra | Amanda Faccioli
Cover image: Map “Terra Brasilis” (Latin term), which according to the Portugaliae Monumenta Cartográfica, is authored by Portuguese cartographer Lopo Homem, in 1519. Source: Biblioteca Nacional.
Photo exhibition by Glauber Venturini