Language Lessons, Part 3: Ana and Martim
Agonizing about a story in my beginning Portuguese class, because that's what writers do.
Agonizing about a story in my beginning Portuguese class, because that's what writers do.
While my husband is in Kryzgyrstan, the Fulbright folks and Rachel and her family make sure I'm well taken care of.
Our friends from Paris who live in Lisbon take us to see a graffiti-decorated parking garage in their neighborhood.
The importance of voting in the context of living in a country where people were not allowed to vote for 48 years due to a brutal fascist dictatorship.
My beginning Portuguese class was postponed for lack of students, but I'm still trying to learn the language.
A commentary on the freshly caught fish lying on the ice in the fish market.
The Saturday Farmer's Market in our neighborhood, and meeting another Fulbright fellow, Rachel Burk, and her two daughters.
My husband left the keys in the apartment six days after we arrived, a common travel mishap.
Pictures from our street in the Bairro Alto neighborhood of Lisbon.
I arrive in Lisbon and find the attic apartment quite conducive to writing. My blog begins with this post.