After getting lost and walking much more than expected, I ended up having to take a bus for a few kilometers to get back on track...Therefore, I arrived in Braga, a beautiful Baroque style city, a day earlier than planned. It was 7 p.m. by the time I found this hotel close to the Sé (Cathedral). At 50 euros the room was way over my budget, but I managed to get a slim 5 euros rebate. After the day I just had, I was exhausted and didn't feel like walking around the city to find a cheaper hotel.  I just wanted to  put my backpack down, remove my shoes and take a shower!

arrive at Braga round 3 pm.   Got taxi and bloke took us to the wrong place, so had argument with him until he took us to the right place.   Find rooms at Francfort Hotel.   35E/night.   Old old place and a little old lady run it.   She couldn’t speak English and we couldn’t speak Portuguese, so that was fun.   Down to village for lunch and look around.   Went to the Camera Museum of Photography,.   Walk around shopping area and back to rooms.   Out to tea at Chinese place.

Saturday 9th              30°

if you ever end up in the north of portugal i highly recomend that you spend a night, especially if you re camping,in the area of gerez. other then the valley of douro, the national park was definetly the most picturesque places i visited. even though we got lost and it took us the whole day to get there by car i would have repeated the whole trip again. the wild horses, a bath in the cold water of the waterfall, and the friendly park guard who asked us nicely to pack up our tent from the picnic area.

**written on Sept 25th, pictures are from September 3rd (or thereabouts)**

So, I know this is September 3rd because well, I've got some pictures where I am actually able to stand and work. I spent most of the week hiding out somewhere due to heat exhaustion and exertion. I'm so glad I have a couple of pictures of actually working! Even if it is mostly my ponytail and such, I have validation that it wasn't a terrible nightmare, and that it did actually happen.

So I will take a few minutes here to talk about a most excellent little surprise. On the very last day, I can barely recall it due to the fatigue.. but a couple of new volunteers showed up. I recall one of them a little bit because he drove myself and our group leader around Braga to find a grocery store to buy picnic supplies. We never did find the grocery store, but I recall him listening to me and Manolo talking about relationships, and I recall him nodding and looking at me through the rear view mirror. I remember really wanting to ask him his view on relationships, but never got the chance as we always found ourselves running so short on time. All I had to say is that leading a group is difficult work!

At the picnic, he said a couple of things to me. Mostly "can you email me your photos?" and "my, they don't let you rest!" when people kept calling out my name to have pictures taken of them. I remember thinking he was cute enough to notice and talk to, but I didn't do so at the picnic because Lynn (*shudder*) was sitting next to him the whole time.

At the very end of our trip, when we went to visit the just-finished house that was built before us, I went up to him to ask him if he was related to the construction foreman, since they have the last name. He smiled and said no, that it was a common Portuguese last name, and I recouped by saying "that's ok! You're special to me regardless!" but kind of blushed at my mistake and walked away. And that was the last I saw of Sandro...

But we've been emailing and it's hard to explain but I get so excited because his emails are so politely interested and ever so lightly flirtatious. And I think - my god, he must be crazy for wasting his time corresponding with me and flirting ever so delicately, since I'm half a world away and all.. but it makes me smile so brightly because he's cute, and sweet and kind. And those things sound simple, but are not really that easy to find anymore...

So once again we have proven the saying 'when you least expect it' because I was so miserable during this trip that I just expected to go home in one piece. I really did not expect this little surprise, but I'm very glad.

And we have been writing back and forth lamenting how we were only able to meet on the very last day, and oh, how briefly! If only he had come sooner! If only I had stayed longer! Of course none of that is voiced, but you can feel that sentiment burning through. We're old enough to accept what is, but young enough to hope fate has his hand in all this.

So I dream of returning to Portugal.. or having a visitor in the States fairly soon..!  =)

Today we arrived at the site, not really knowing what to expect. Whatever it was that we all imagined, I'm sure it wasn't this rock-fenced, uneven plot of land, half full of large boulders that we would eventually have to break up and carry away, and a high wall of dirt that we would have to shovel, wheelbarrow away, and then dump into the back of a truck - the same truck we would have to sit in on our way to lunch, oftentimes.. =)

We met the President of Habitat for Humanity, Portugal, as well as the construction foreman, Luis and his father Senor Ribeiro, as well as the family that we were building the house for. They were all very sweet, and the son was particularly photogenic and active, running around everywhere trying to help despite the child labor laws not allowing him to.

So my day started off transporting water in buckets from a local source to these oil barrels upstairs. We managed to dry up the supply with the few gallons we were able to remove. So then I began shoveling dirt in the pit. After about 20 minutes of this, I needed a break, so went upstairs to rest in the shade of our tin lean-to. When I went back down, I picked up my shovel, but was unable to adequately lift any dirt. So I tried a smaller shovel. My hands were shaking. And that was the beginning of the end.. Shoveling dirt was so hard on me physically that as the day grew hotter and shaded areas grew less accessible, I almost fainted after lunch.

This would unfortunately set the tone for the rest of the week, as people in their 50s, 60s and 70s put me to shame on so many levels. I would hide in the van or wander away trying to keep my sanity and health as the rest of my group labored on. I'd lend a hand here and there, but nothing that was particularly meaningful. I found it impossible to fully engage in anything after this first realization that I was completely incapable of participating in construction activities without causing some major damage to my health.

I still have to take a moment to appreciate how much people pushed themselves physically on this build site. I think we all expected tedium, but this was really hard work! Some joked about being part of a chain gang, others would yell out "I need a ho-er!" or "I need a banger!" or "I need a pick-er!" as some of the dirt was formed around boulders that we would eventually have to pick around and roll away, to be cut up and carted off.

The dirt process went like this: We would shovel dirt into buckets about 4/5 full, then someone else would swing the full bucket up out of the pit to someone standing there with a wheelbarrow and they would repeat this until the wheelbarrow was full, and roll that over to the edge of the wall where they would have to lift the wheelbarrow up to deposit the dirt onto the back of a truck. Someone would often be standing in the bed of the truck using the hoe to spread the dirt around so that more dirt could be dumped in easier.

The rock process went like this: The large boulders would be sized up by one of the local construction workers and Mary would drill holes about 10 inches apart on the face of the boulder. Water would be poured in occassionally to cool off the drill bit and when enough holes were drilled, wedge pins would be hammered into the hole. The a sledgehammer was used to drive the pins far enough so that the rock would crack in two. This process was repeated until the boulders were small enough to lift and carry away to the other side where it would be used to build a rock wall. Smaller boulders that did not need to be lifted were rolled over other rocks in order to get out of the way. This was the one task I did not participate in, and apparently there is an art to jimmying loose rocks, as well as rolling rocks over one another.

Today, we were able to meet the entire family, including the father, who was working the day we arrived and met everyone else. I can't begin to express the joy at watching the children participate in the building of their own home. The son was especially photogenic, and very active for a child suffering from asthma. I have quite a few pictures of him running from one place to another "helping" which he was not allowed to do because of child labor laws, but it was really just playing for him for a few minutes here and there.

Although I do not have a picture of it, my mind's eye will always remember Julie and the little boy turning the cement wheel like the captain of a ship.

In hindsight, I can't help but have a small feeling of pride about the project. We take it for granted that volunteerism is largely institutionalized here. It's presented to us early on and civic participation is a key component into getting into good schools, as it demonstrates leadership and a broader sense of responsibility and community-building. However, in other countries this is not the case at all. The house in Braga is built almost entirely by foreign volunteers as it is very difficult to find local volunteers, even though the unemployment rate is much higher. In fact, during this first week, multiple news crews (and by crews, I mean a cameraman and a journalist) came by our site to do interviews and shoot a bit, in order to air and bring more people to the cause and Habitat for Humanity.

We were lucky enough to have visited the last house that was just finished before we went back to pick up our luggage from the hotel. I couldn't believe my eyes that this place was not only finished, but look entirely professional. You would never guess that this house was pieced together by thousands of different hands over the course of one year, most of whom have never had experience in construction. You would never look at it and say "oh, this was done by the work of volunteers!" It was absolutely stunning and professional looking!

One of the yummiest restaurants that I was able to visit in Braga. They have a short menu, perhaps 10 choices for each course, and have interesting choices such as cod, duck rice, and a beef dish with rice and beans. Their desserts are quite lovely and very small. I HIGHLY recommend the biscuit pie. I have no idea what's in it, but it's like ice cream with cookies inside drizzled in the most amazing caramel, which you can later put into your coffee (pingo).

Before our work began, we had a short tour of Braga, with the highlight being a visit to Bom Jesus. Now, I am the last one to get excited about a trip to church, but this location was so stunning and beautiful it is now one of my favorite places in the world.

I love how Europe is not very crowded. If we had such a gorgeous structure in Los Angeles, you can bet it would be full of people, both locals and tourists, every single hour of the day. But here, it was as sparsely crowded as it was beautiful.

There are 2 ways to get up the hill to the church. One is via the stairs (which I did not take). Apparently at every landing there are statues and a small building that housed a scene of Jesus in the bible. It reminds me of the Franciscan monestary that we have in Malibu, with statues commemorating Jesus' path to the cross.

The other way of getting to this church is via a water-driven "funicular". I don't know what that means, but it's a wooden trolley-looking thing that goes up very steeply and sounds just awful, full of groans and noises. The trip down is even more scary, as you wonder if it's going to stop in time..

I suppose if you were to take the labor of walking up the stairs, you would be rewarded with the sight of the main church, which is gorgeous. The grounds and building remind me a lot of Versailles in France. Not quite as large or ornate, but definitely a similar feeling of grandeur and beauty.

We wandered around bits of Braga that day, visiting Braga Shopping (and having lunch there) and generally just trying to keep the group together. If I were a group leader, I would have asked everyone to synch their watches upon arrival. What would end up happening is, some people would arrive "on time" and if everyone didn't show up within a few minutes of that, the early ones would wander away, and you'd have this constant ebb of people wandering off and wandering back. Our leader in particular was often late, but it was understandable as he had a lot of administrative and communication to do apart from the group. All I have to say is that leading a team without giving orders and being a total Nazi is not easy by any means!

I was really surprised at this point at what a large city we were building in. I really expected a super-rural area. I expected cornfields and dirt and having to make a fire in a circle of rocks. But here we were with great public transportation, stores open on Sunday (which wasn't even an option in Geneva!) and plenty of people on the streets! Braga was really a lovely place, and as I was soon to see, highly preferable over Porto in many ways.

What a nice respite - on Saturday around noon we headed off to a lake to have a humble picnic with the volunteers and the family was also there. Because of all the trees, it felt less than the normal 100 degree weather and some tried to cool down further by swimming in the very shallow, silty river.

My favorite moment has to be when I got really tired and lay down on the blanket. I was sort of sad because I didn't come out of this trip with many pictures of myself, whether working or at an event. I was fiddling with my camera and saw Camilo walking toward me out of the corner of my eye. I asked him to put his head near mine and held the camera at arm's length to take pictures. Before you knew it, more and more people joined and within a few minutes, 7 people were trying to squeeze their heads into the picture and we were trying to find out who had the longest arms (Manolo) but the best aim (Camilo). Camilo's pictures win out. =)

We were allowed a break on Thursday but had to work on Saturday with more locals, but gladly welcomed this respite. A full day with a government respresentative was planned, and we visited vineyards, ecological farms, and had the most amazing lunch in town.

Our first stop was to a church, and the funniest part is that no one except the bus driver knew a darn thing about this church. The little bit that I learned was that the hill it was on was one large rock, with the church being built on top of the rock. I think it's a geological peculiarity in the region, and the tallest single rock in all of Europe. We walked around a bit and I chanced upon all the women at the foot of one of the churches posing in a Vanity-Fair-like fashion. It was adorable.

We tried to get the men to do the same, but their numbers were too small, so it was more like a... GQ cover. Manolo took my cigarette to try and appear more sexy, but I think he just ended up looking like he was trying not to burn himself. =)

It's surprising how much Braga reminds me of Napa valley. The landscape is surprisingly similar and most houses are roofed in Terra Cotta. Then the vineyards.. it seems like everyone has a little patch of vines in their homes and you can tell there are large vineyards just looking out over the valley.

We visited a particularly nice one - Braga is known for its Vinho Verde - otherwise known as green wine. It's like white wine, but a slight bit sweeter, bubbly and very refreshing. It's hands down my favorite wine, probably most similar in taste to a Gerwetzermeiner or however you spell that.

On the vinyard was a beautiful estate that the family lives in and has been passed down through the generations. We weren't able to go inside, but we took a few nice group shots outside.

Next we went to an ecological farm - funded by the EU for the purposes of generating non-pesticidal, non-synthetic material farms. Around the actual building, herbs and medicinal plants were being grown. But the center was mainly for education, programs and seminars to support the farms being formed around Portugal.

In the afternoon, I believe there was a visit to the gold museum and a church, but I was so tired I went home and.. uploaded my pictures =) The art of making gold filigree is a bit of a cultural institution in Portugal.

Today I decided to oficially start the countdown for my trip to Japan. There are only 3 days left. All the paperwork and burocracy are finally done with and now all that's left is to say goodbye. To my dearest friends and family I wave 'so long, farewell'. I write these lines sitting in one of my favorite spots on the Universidade do Minho Braga Campus. This is also goodbye to the place where I've made new friends, studied, struggled and met all kinds of interesting people.

But this is no time to be sad, new adventures and people wait for me on the other side of the world!

Portugal is a very picturesque country. Braga is no exception. If you decide to go downtown you can find beautiful and ancient buildings worth seeing, especially during sunset:) “A Brasileira” is an old Portuguese cafe and it also exists in Lisbon. The Lisbon one is famous for the bronze statue of our great poet Fernando Pessoa, where he used to hang with his fellow poets. Nevertheless, you’ll find more tourists than autochthones there. That’s why Braga’s Brasileira has a special feeling. You’ll see nothing but a friendly (well not always:) blend between old people, that stop by since they were children, and the city’s trendy youth. The decoration is also really characteristic with wooden booths and mirrored walls. Sounds weird but it’s actually a very pleasant place to enjoy an after lunch “cimbalino” (delicious espresso coffee) or an afternoon “mazagra” (cool coffee drink with lemon slices). Just around the corner (Rua de São Marcos) you can eat yummy “Bolinhos de Bacalhau” (a traditional Portuguese fried roll with codfish and smashed potatoes) at “A Favorita”. Portuguese people are crazy about codfish and I believe that no one can cook it as well as we do! Living proof is that nowhere else in the world you’ll find people eating as much as we do, sounds pretty logical:) Correct me if I’m wrong:) Our “Sé” (Old Cathedral) can be found in the most traditional neighbourhood. Small narrow streets decorated with colourful flower vases, hanging from each balcony. Just by talking to people you’ll feel a different vibe. Life goes on peacefully and everybody knows next door neighbour. Braga’s oldest pub, “Deslize”, stands timidly in front of the cathedral, and you must ring the doorbell to get in… Some of our finest and most expensive restaurants like “De Bouro” are just around the corner, in front of 70 year old Dona Constância’s outdoor fire grill. Enough of Braga for one day:)