The Dream Worked

I can’t ever allow myself to get used to the fact that I live in a beautiful place. It’s a beautiful place that is extremely hot in the summer because there’s very little central air, but the sun doesn’t go down until 9:30pm. And my friends live close. And I’ve found a woman I love here. And I’m not starving. The list goes on.

None of these things were a certainty this time two years ago.

My original plan had been to come for the whole month of June 2023. I had two weeks of vacation from my job, and then I lied and said I hurt myself surfing and that flying had to be postponed. I did actually break my toe on the third day I was there, but I wasn’t coming back until July 2nd.

I arrived June 5, and spent the month alone in Vila Cha, about 30 minutes from where I now live. I painted, I called friends, I wondered what the hell I was doing here. I had a lot of time to think about it.

I was supposed to meet my lawyer, get a tax ID, open a Portuguese bank account, and find an apartment to secure my visa application. I had accomplished all of these except the apartment. Even in 2023 they were going fast, and I was panicking. I didn’t have a place. My friends who I didn’t even know that well in the band Unsafe Space Garden agreed to sponsor me at the 11th hour, which was kind of reckless. They would be liable for me if I committed a crime or incurred a debt. I don’t see them as much as I would like now, but this blind commitment to my desperation at the time was incredible without knowing me that well.

I toured the apartment I now have, but the price was closer to DC rent originally. No way, I walked. I went on a lot of long walks alone stressing about what to do. Mom suggested I keep looking. My old boss said walk. My lawyer said negotiate, which I didn’t know I could do.

The realtor kept calling, and finally I picked up. They thought I was playing hard ball when in reality I was panicking. We agreed on way more favorable terms. I couldn’t figure out why they dropped the price so much until I went to the signing. A nephew of the realtor translated for me, I transferred the money, and the deal was done. He walked me out and told me they had googled me a lot, had seen The Charlie Visconage Show on YouTube, and thought I might be famous, even though he made sure to let me know they hated it.

In those last days, I knew I would be going back with at least a complete application, but no certainty that anything more would happen. With a lot of paperwork and luck, I’m here now.

Still, there are challenges. Where will I get my new arch supports made? Taxes are higher. The state just changed the law for citizenship. I found work, but it’s hardly guaranteed as a freelancer. Two of my beloved friends are moving back to their country of origin in early November.

I had a lot of fantasies about what this life would be like. Many of them came true, and several did not. Now I move from the fantasy of a life to the reality of a life. The reality is still the right one for me.