The Dudderar Chronicles

by Matthew

In February of this year, I went for a run in Sacramento along the American River.  It was one of those beautiful mornings when you forget that our city metamorphoses into a kiln in only 4 more months, baking everything, including the human spirit.  It was one of those days that you feel like you can do anything: create sustained nuclear fusion, fix poverty, or become a professional golfer and win the US Open, if only you put your mind to it.  It was on this run that I decided I would move to Portugal for a year. 

I got back from the run and told Raquel.  She acted surprised, but had been secretly playing subliminal recordings to me in the middle of the night while I slept, so she knew it was only a matter of time.  I became happier with my decision in the Spring as I continued through serving as President of the Sacramento Lacrosse Association, coaching two Stingers lacrosse teams, serving on the Cub Scouts Pack board, and teaching middle school for the 1st time. I had overcommitted.  And though Raquel didn’t mind my schedule AT ALL, the thought of leaving it all behind for a while, moving to a European beach vacation spot, seemed like a dream.  I also liked saying, “yeah, we’re moving to Portugal for a year.”  It made me sound like some billionaire moving to shelter my fortune from taxes or a celebrity moving to Europe to escape crazed fans.  

It wasn’t until after school ended, and Raquel started making preparation to-do-lists for me, that I start to second guess my decision.  I like my friends, lacrosse teams, home, garden, bikes, coffee shops, and all the other reasons we chose to live in Sacramento.  Sorting through boxes of pictures. Old squadron patches. Letters. Clothes the kids all shared. Donating books like Brown Bear, Brown Bear What Do You See? that I read to each one.  Giving away the B.O.B that I pushed countless miles as I tried to get them to fall sleep and fulfill a halfhearted attempt to train for a race I impulsively signed up for.  All of these things might fill most people with joy as they remember good times.  For me, I just felt melancholy.  Weeks of melancholy.  Packing.  Driving to the Goodwill.  And melancholy.  I had some diversions.  Coaching the Aces ’27 team, visiting family in Ft. Myers and Baltimore, hanging with friends and family; but I was mostly down in the dumps.   

Sadness hung in the air even as we arrived at our amazing new home.  There is a reason you hear a lot about Portugal these day.  It’s an incredible place.  Cobbled stone ancient cities with modern amenities are tucked into some of the most beautiful natural landscapes in the world.  Not to mention great weather and a friendly population.  The jet lag hit harder then expected and my Ironman training plan was still crumbled in my unpacked book bag with the airplane pretzels.  I sat at social settings nodding my head and making fake facial expressions to match the rest of the group as I pretended to understand Portuguese.  Even if friends like Filipe, Samantha, Alex, and Lorena wanted to practice their excellent English, I still felt rude for not being able to reciprocate in their language.  Despite the welcoming crew of Thais’ family, that help us out in innumerable ways and made us feel at home, I still wasn’t myself.     

Finally after a week, I unpacked my wetsuit and running shoes, went down to the water at Praia da Torre, and took a swim in the refreshing water of the Atlantic were the Tagus River finally empties.  I started the lap by touching the east wall of the Forte de São Julião da Barra and swimming to the jetty that protects the Oeiras marina.  I finished the swim, threw the wetsuit in the car, and started to run along the coastline trail that leads to Lisboa.  The sun was just above Lisboa and the 25 de Abril Bridge.  Octogenarians were soaking in the morning sun on the coastal rocks, with and without bathing attire.  I was smiling.  The head fog was lifting and I started to remember that feeling.  That felling that I can do anything. That I can learn Portuguese.  That I can finish my Ironman (70.3) in under 6 hours.  That we will have an amazing year in Portugal.  And hopefully for humankind, discover a solution for sustained nuclear fusion.  

And we all have Raquel to thank.  I love you.  

Portugal Things I Like 

Rental cars with manual transmission 

Beaches 

Castles and Forts in every city 

Pastel de Nata 

Jovens em Movimento – volunteer youth movement that picks up trash and cleans cities 

Padaria

Cool estate cars, or as we call them station wagons  

Every piece of food packaging is color coded with what bin it goes in 

Convient/Reliable Public transit 

Portugal Things I Could Live Without

Home appliances play loud music when you turn them on or off, or for no reason  

Trash pick up is at 11:00 PM….outside my window….every night 

Pastel de Nata – not good for my training plan 

Doggie poop bags don’t exist – watch your step 

Bom Dia, Matthew