A Young Anthropologist's Notebook

20/09/2018 One year ago I had, only recently, just entered my new house, where I was desperately trying to get my computer to work so that I could finally enjoy some Netflix (SPOILER ALERT: it took a couple weeks more for my computer to work. I was desperate. I had to interact with the other humans living with me. They were nice). I can remember exactly what we did on this day because our university organized a concert (you know, Portuguese people love to throw parties) to celebrate the new school year and, for the very first time, the five of us spent the night there together. We took a picture which, incidentally (and comically) turned out to be one of the very few pictures we have all together because someone got his phone stolen when we finally had tons of them and that we liked to look at laughing because we look so different now. I mean, not me - my vampiresque genes keep me young forever - but some of us do.  I have this picture up in my room and whenever I ...

31/07/2018 Time is relative. How can it be already August 2018, when in my mind we are still in September 2016? If I look back at the last 18 months, I gape at how many things happened, how many people entered my life (or left it for good) and, above all, how much I changed. Yes, I know - I am not saying anything new. Pretty much anyone would say the same, old thing: "oh, I am so different from who I was one year ago! I cannot believe it! New life and yadda yadda". Look at me, pretending to know how to take selfies in Ronda So let me skip to the interesting part. One year ago, anxious and borderline depressed as I was, I don't think I would've ever pictured myself walking in a deserted valley in Andalusia, backpack on my shoulders, water bottle in my hand (gotta stay hydrated in that heat) as I had to hike in the sun to get to my hostel. One year ago, I had almost never set a foot in a hostel. I have always wanted to be like that, free and uncaring and br...