​Se quero andar de mantilha na rua? Não. E usar um manto preto? Ou um bioco com capote? Nem por isso. Mas posso, se quiser.
São indumentárias ou acessórios tradicionais portugueses que podem tapar o rosto. Nada me proíbe de os usar. Por enquanto.

A nova proposta de lei relativa a uso de vestuário ou acessório cobrindo o rosto pode vir a mudar isso um dia.

Vamos por partes, e começo por esclarecer a minha posição: a única imposição que aceito é a de não andarmos nus pelas ruas, ou seja, não mostrar os órgãos genitais. Imaginem se, além da caca de pombos, nos tivéssemos que preocupar com apanhar candidíase por nos sentarmos em bancos de jardins?

Na praia, quero lá saber. Cú nú ou tapado da cabeça aos pés, é com cada um. Eu por mim prefiro não andar a tirar areia de sítios incómodos.

Há variações que entendo, como não andar em roupa interior ou fato de banho pelo meio das cidades. É lixado para quem tem de trabalhar de fato e gravata, e tal, ver outros tão à vontade, claramente de férias, distrai demasiado, e verdade seja dita, dá logo inveja, e vontade de marcar férias, e nem sempre é possível.

E depois, há códigos de vestuário para comércios, empresas e lugares religiosos específicos: no espaço deles, mandam eles.

Qualquer outra proibição, sou contra.

Passemos aos factos:

Há vários países na Europa que proíbem a cobertura facial: França, Bélgica, Bulgária, Áustria, Dinamarca, Suíça e Países Baixos. O âmbito da proibição não é exatamente o mesmo em todos eles; alguns têm uma proibição parcial, outros uma proibição mais completa.

O objetivo é, na maioria dos casos, apresentado como uma necessidade de segurança pública (prevenir que delinquentes e criminosos mascarados andem à solta, permitir identificação policial e reconhecimento facial digital sempre possível, etc.) e de defesa dos direitos das mulheres - isto é que mulheres de determinadas culturas não sejam coagidas a submeter-se a regras religiosas e culturais à quais querem talvez escapar.

O outro argumento é cultural: a cobertura facial não faz parte das tradições locais desses países. Embora este argumento seja ainda mais discutível, uma vez que as tradições locais mudaram tanto ao longo das décadas que é fácil encontrar tradições locais passadas de cobertura total do rosto, da cabeça, do corpo (ou dos 3).

Em Portugal, tínhamos costumes regionais, sociais ou religiosos de cobertura parcial: o lenço, que servia para fins práticos (proteção solar, pudor, luto); e a touca e o manto, no Alentejo e no Minho, que por vezes cobriam parte do rosto, por pudor ou calor. Não se tratava de uma imposição legal, mas sim de um forte hábito cultural e, nalgumas zonas mais rurais, a pressão social era forte, sim, e as mulheres sentiam-se obrigadas a conformar-se.

Será que estes hábitos culturais de cobertura parcial desapareceram por decreto legal, com sanções legais? Não. Desapareceram com o tempo e a evolução natural da sociedade. Se quiser, ainda posso usar lenço, touca, manto, mantilha e outros.

Mas será que ainda me será permitido?

Uma lei que restrinja o uso de determinadas peças de vestuário ou acessórios (e o que é isso? Óculos de sol tb conta?) não será um precedente perigoso? Como é que essa lei vai ser compreendida e aplicada pelos responsáveis pela sua aplicação? E quem serão esses - PSP, polícia municipal, tudo gente sempre muito razoável?

É só olhar para o que aconteceu em França, ô que ironia, depois da lei que proíbe o uso de apetrechos cobrindo o rosto ter entrado em vigor em 2010.

Um grande número de municipalidades foram logo como muita sede ao pote, e proibiram uso de fatos de banho parecidos com fatos térmicos dos surfistas.
Passaram de "um pano que cobre o rosto" a "um pano que cobre o corpo todo", e emitiram decretos municipais proíbindo às mulheres o uso de vestuário de banho modesto, impondo o biquíni ou um fato de banho "normal" como condição para poderem estar numa praia pública ou numa piscina municipal.

Ironia das ironias, passou a ser mais ilegal andarem vestidas do que andar de maminhas ao léu a apanhar sol.

Eu tenho pele frágil e costumo usar fatos de banho muito cobertos ou vestidos de praia largos e compridos, não muito diferentes dos que uma mulher muçulmana usaria.
Pois em França não me teriam deixado entrar nas praias.
Houve inúmeras mulheres arrastadas à força por agentes da polícia para fora das piscinas e das praias públicas.

A coisa só parou depois de batalhas legais que obrigaram a esclarecer a lei em 2016.
Os presidentes de câmara só podem agora decretar proibições se provarem que existe uma ameaça imediata à ordem pública. Há alguns que ainda tentam.

Em paralelo, ainda em França, esta luta "pela integração e respeito das tradições nacionais", resultou noutra coisa mais grave: há miúdas proibidas de entrar nas suas escolas.

Mas não começou assim:
Em 1905, passou a Lei sobre a separação da Igreja e do Estado que estabeleceu o laicismo estatal. Ok.

Em 2004, passa a Lei que proíbe aos alunos das escolas públicas de usarem “acessórios ou sinais (tipo tatuagem visível) ou vestuário através dos quais manifestem conspicuamente uma filiação religiosa”. Aplica-se a cruzes cristãs, quipás judaícas, véus islâmicos, etc.
Hum. Aqui vamos. Acessórios que mostram uma afiliação religiosa. Tipo, por exemplo, sei lá...um véu de noiva a tapar parte do rosto? Uma mantilha que cobre a cabeça para ir à missa...?
E dái chegamos a 2023, quando uma circular ministerial proíbe abaias e qamis nas escolas. E define estas peças de vestuário como vestuário religioso.
Abaias. Aqueles vestidos largos e compridos que se usam por cima de calças ou não, que tapam os braços e as pernas. Basicamente o que eu uso no verão para me proteger do sol ou no inverno com botas altas porque a sério acho giríssimo e confortável.

Vamos lá ver: há jovens que se vêem negado o seu direito universal à educação, em nome da “integração”, se se recusarem a tirar a abaia.

Sob o pretexto de que “não se pode obrigar uma mulher a usar uma burka” ou de “integração na sociedade francesa”, a França fez o caminho inverso: está a infringir liberdades individuais fundamentais e impedir um direito humano universal.

Não será mais importante garantir que essas miúdas possam ir à escola, e sejam educadas, fora de casa, e possam decidir por si mesmas se querem ou não usar determinada roupa ou acessório?
Será que não podemos aprender dos erros de outras nações?
Já que sofremos de um constante sentimento de inferioridade e nos queixamos coletivemante do nosso atraso em relação às outras nações "mais evoluídas", talvez fosse bom olhar para os seus fracassos.

Há cerca de 10,4 milhões de habitantes em Portugal.
0,4% são muçulmanos. Isto é mais ou menos 40 000 pessoas. Das quais podemos deduzir que cerca de metade são mulheres. Dessas cerca de 20 000 mulheres muçulmanas, sabemos que uma muito pequena parte usa véu. Porque é de quem se trata. De mulheres que usam véu em Portugal.
Sabem quantas é que são?
Entre 50 a 100 mulheres. Em todo o país.

Ora vejamos.
Há um grupo de legisladores e legisladoras pagos pelo erário público e eleitos para trabalhar ao bem da nação que acharam por bem dedicar o seu tempo a fazer passar uma lei que irá proíbir a, no máximo, 100 mulheres de usarem uma peça de vestuário que para elas é importante, e que para o resto das portuguesas e portugueses não aquece nem arrefece.

O meu problema com esta nova proposta de lei em Portugal é que não só não garante a proteção de todos nós contra desvios ou zelos indevidos, é um disparatado uso dos recursos público, e é, acima de tudo, uma porta aberta a outro tipo de interferências na minha liberdade individual e nos meus direitos.

Imaginem se o capote alentejano for proíbido porque tapa demasiado? Irrrra!

Queres saber mais sobre tradições "veladas" portuguesas?
Lê aqui: https://www.vortexmag.net/coca-bioco-e-capelo-no-tempo-em-que-as-portuguesas-usavam-burka/

Em junho de 1985, há exatamente 40 anos, fui eu prestar provas do 9º ano ao Centro de Exames de Paris, com várias dezenas de outros imigrantes e filhos de imigrantes portugueses. Nervoso miudinho. Passei com honras.
Dois anos depois, em junho de 1987, voltei ao mesmo sítio, para os exames do 11º ano, acompanhada pela minha querida professora, a magnífica Sra Cunha, e os meus companheiros de aulas. Um grupinho de teimosos que só raramente adormeciam entre análises textuais do Cancioneiro e decorar os factos da Ínclita Geração aos domingos de manhã. Passei com orgulho e suor. E poucas horas de sono.As provas do 12º ano já foram feitas com as outras todas do temível Bac. Foram provas “livres”, autorizadas a quem tivesse feito os cursos de língua e cultura portuguesa pelo CNED, o sistema de ensino à distância do Ministério da Educação francês. Em tempos pré-digital, implicou muita tinta e papel, envelopes amarelos gigantes que mal cabiam na caixa do correio e alguns extravios que obrigaram a reescrever semanas inteiras de trabalhos de casa. E ai de mim que me tivesse esquecido de proteger com plástico a dissertação em dias de chuva...
Não havia, naquela época, ensino integrado do português nas escolas do ensino público francês. Lembro-me de ouvir falar de uma ou outra para a elite algures em Paris, onde era possível ter aulas sem ter de abdicar de viver, mas parecia-me na época mais um mito urbano do que uma realidade.
Os exames, esses, eram cortesia dos serviços consulares.
A preparação para os exames, e as aulas, eram por conta de associações lusas e professores particulares, teimando com brio em providenciar uma ligação forte com uma pátria que, tal como hoje, mal lhes retribuía o amor.
Quando penso nas piadas gozonas em Portugal sobre os “avecs”, até se me sobe uma azia que me queima a alma. Sabem lá. Não sabem dos sacrifícios dos pais que tinham de pagar pelas aulas. E não era pouco.
Emigraram em busca de vida melhor, deixaram a luz da sua terra, e trocaram o azul do seu mar pela cinza do betão dos subúrbios parisienses, e todo o dinheiro era contado. Inscrever um filho, dois, ou mais, nas aulas de português, implicava um esforço financeiro avultado que tinha de ter um retorno garantido.
Ai do miúdo que não desse o seu melhor nas provas do 9º ano.
Obter a certidão era um momento de orgulho para pais que na sua maioria só a quarta classe tinham, e de libertação para miúdos que queriam ser adolescentes como todos os outros.
Poucos eram os que continuavam para o 11º, menos ainda para o 12º.
As aulas de português não deixavam espaço para quase nada. Quais tempos livres! Quais aulas de música, dança, desporto, cinema com amiguinhos ou andar pela cidade sem fazer nada, qual quê! As quartas, sábados e domingos eram para o português. Era preciso fazer em simultâneo dois currículos escolares. Era trabalhos de casa a dobrar e severo escrutínio parental. Era garantir sucesso escolar em duas línguas e duas culturas. Era provar aos franceses que erámos tão bons ou melhores do que eles na escola oficial, e era provar aos portugueses lá na terra que ainda merecíamos o nosso passaporte. Mas mais complexo ainda, para quem continuasse para além do 9º ano, era suportar as críticas dos outros imigrantes que percebiam isso como uma ambição descabida de quem certamente se crê superior. Porque afinal, quem precisa do 12º ano para limpar escadas ou rebocar paredes em terras francesas?
Continuei. Teimosice ou brio, curiosidade ou amor de verdade, 40 anos depois ainda não sei. Só sei que carrego na voz esta minha história: o sotaque francês que espreita ainda hoje por baixo do meu português, qual estéreo, e que foi muitas vezes motivo de escárnio mal disfarçado em certos meios em Portugal, é hoje motivo de orgulho.
Vivem em mim anos de sacrifício e amor; um esforço inimaginável para quem a voz só soa em mono.

(na foto , sou eu, claramente. Tenho 9 anos,  a idade quem que comecei as aulas de português.   O laranja e o decor data exatamente esta foto, não haja dúvidas)

Is anyone interested in my latest foray into AI-land?
I did it, so you don’t have to. Be forewarned.
It's a long one; you might want to grab your tea or drink of choice and embark on a trip with me.
Here goes.

me: Please help me find a short list of Dutch books (or translated into Dutch) suitable for teenagers, from 15 upwards, with a bit of mystery or fantasy, or maybe some History, and no more than 250 pages.

AI: Here is a list of 8 titles with details about authors ... Genre: ... Summary: ... Why it is suitable: ... and oh yes, Where to find them: These books are available through platforms such as Bol.com, *Donner.nl or your local library (for example, through the children's library). They offer exciting stories that perfectly match the interests of teenagers!

me: ...thanks, sounds great, let's have a look at Bol.com...hum...weird... not there... I kind of recognise some of the names, but not the titles, though some look like titles from other books/authors I know... Let see the authors' biblio. Oh, nothing there either.

me to the AI: Are you sure these books exist? Can you give me their ISBN or their publication date and publisher, please?

AI: It seems that some of the books I mentioned earlier do not exist or do not match the descriptions. Here are 5 verified books that do exist and may be suitable for teenagers above 15, with the requested genres and length: ... proceeds to give a list of titles, authors with Genre: ... Year of publication: ... Publisher: ... ISBN: ... Pages: ... Summary: ....

me: Ah! that sounds legit this time! Thank you. Let's see if I can order one... hum... only 1 out of 5 seems to exist. Bummer.

Hey, Mr AI, what about this 'ABC' by Such Author? It sounds great, but I cannot find it anywhere.

Ai: The book ‘ABC’ by Such Author does not seem to exist according to available search results. There is no evidence that Such Author wrote a novel with this title. Here are some of his known works that could possibly cause confusion: ...
If you are specifically looking for a book titled ‘ABC’, you may be referring to a different work, such as ‘We, the ABC’ by a Different Author or ‘The ABC’ by Yet Another Author. Let me know if I can help!

me: I was not the one referring to the bloody book or author! Seriously, AI, why do you invent answers completely wrong and nonsensical to my request for books? Why do you lie?

AI: I sincerely apologize for the incorrect and misleading information provided earlier. My intention is always to assist you with accurate and helpful answers, but sometimes errors occur when generating responses, especially if I misinterpret your request or rely on incomplete data.
I did not intend to "lie" or deliberately invent answers. As an AI, I sometimes make mistakes by extrapolating or misunderstanding the context of your query. This can result in inaccurate book suggestions, titles, or descriptions that don't exist or don't match your request.
Let me correct my approach and provide accurate book recommendations for Dutch-speaking teenagers (15 years old upwards) that are exciting, realistic, and under 250 pages: ... lists 3 books.
Accurate Process:
If you'd like more recommendations, I can double-check titles and provide verified ISBNs or publication details. Thank you for pointing out the issue—I truly appreciate your patience as I strive to improve my responses

me: I recognise 2 of the 3 immediately. It seems your process this time was indeed accurate.

But because I was now too deep into Hallucination Land to trust Mr AI, I checked the ISBN it gave me. Shocker, they do not exist. Neither of the publishers is the one for those 2 books. But the books are real, under other references. That’s almost ok, right? Now, let’s check the 3, this ‘DEF’...
me to AI: Hey pall, ‘DEF’ does not exist either…

Ai: You are right that ‘DEF’ by Very Known Author does not exist. I apologise for the error. Very Known Author is a well-known Dutch writer, especially of children's books and poetry, but this particular book is not part of his oeuvre. Here are some real books by Very Known Author that you might find interesting, although they may not exactly match the original question: …

and then comes a list of books for adults. As in Very Adults Books.

At this point I am certain Mr AI is taking the piss. And I want out of Hallucination Land.

I did ended up ordering the only real book from a real author with the correct reference. And Mother-in-law, who was there assured me it was a great one for my kid, so I guess AI did its job…?
​I feel I would have wasted less time just asking Mother-in-law in the first place though…


*Why the odd reference to this particular bookshop in Rotterdam? No idea.

​- What sort of things do you like to do with your mum?
- Lots! But I really like it when we watch classic movies together. From the 80s and the 90s and such. So cool!
Yeah! How lovely of my 13-year-old. And ouch! though.
Experiences do come full circle, time and time again.
I cherish the memories of watching movies with my mum, staying up like a grown-up on Tuesdays because there was no school on Wednesdays, and there were these cycles of "Cine Club" on TV, sometimes double session even, of old and classic movies. We'd watch all the Draculas ever made, and the best of literature adaptations, followed by cowboys, Godzilas, pirates and princesses. Even the musicals she was not a fan of, but I was. Long before we had a VHS or Netflix, we went around the Globe, through the small black and white screen of our 1st Brandt television that lasted far longer than I'd wanted - all my friends already had a colour one - upgraded to a Philips in the mid-80s. There were often sweet treats involved, only for the two of us.
In my mind, the classics still are in black and white, or with those bright technicolour screens with letterboxing, often seen in movies from the 50s to the 70s. It still carries magic.
But technology evolves, user experience changes, and we all adapt to new products and ways to see the world and interact in it.
My kid is technically correct, for him the 80s are the oldies, I just had not seen it through his eyes.
What is the same, though, is the love and memories I now know he will carry with him, as I do the ones with my mum.
The magic was never only in the movies we watched or their format or even the make and model of the TV, but in watching them together. With sweet treats for two.

I'm a bibliofreak.
I have yet to meet a trashed book I do not want to rescue. A new book I do not want to bring home.
I go nowhere without a book to keep me grounded. It's my blankie. My e-reader makes it easier now.
It's not only the books, it's the whole damn library. It's the tiny bookshop crumbling under decades of dust. It's the shiny futuristic one with the hype café. It's the second-hand stand in the streets. It does not matter what or where, as long as it has books, I'm Gollum.
The best thing I could think of to be growing up was a writer. Or a bookseller. Or a librarian. I'm a language teacher and a translator. Close.
Years ago, when I was a Lecturer for the Instituto Camões in India ('Leitora', in Portuguese, which translates as 'reader') I thought it was serendipity, even though it had very little to do with the actual reading of books, it did speak to my inner bibliofreak. I did end up putting together the Language Center Library from scratch, and each library card I issued made me giddier than it should have, so that was that.
I attended countless workshops related to books, from palaeography at the National Archives in Lisbon to the "Crazy About Books" Master course at Radboud University, where I got the absolute privilege to hold in my bare hands 16th-century books.
When did that start? At school. More precisely at the school library. It had another name (in France all schools have a CDI, Centre de documentation et information) and it was managed by a Documentaliste (or Teacher Librarian). It was huge, it had thousands of books, it was free, it was silent, and it was my refuge.
Every recess, every teacher's absence, every gap in my schedule, I was there.
I devoured each of the books and encyclopaedia and magazines and cartoons. Some twice.
The library cards cabinet was my treasure trove, a boolean search was easy-peasy, the microfiche machine was cool.
The Teacher Librarian would often call me aside and tell me she had a new book for me. And when I would come back with one that I did not like or did not understand, she would say "it's ok, not everyone likes the same thing. Give it a go again in a few months. Or years."
My bibliofreak soul hurts when I see there are no libraries with a knowledgeable librarian in every school, everywhere. Even here, in The Netherlands where I live, at schools with funds, it's very minimal, like an afterthought, a couple of school manuals, a few dictionaries, some children's literature bestsellers. It's a sad place, where computers wait to be used on exam days and kids are sent when they misbehave.
We talk about libraries as an obsolete space, but give me a safe silent room, the smell of ink, the smooth feel of paper, and I'm home. The possibility of discovering a new world in each new book is irresistible.
How I wish all kids could experience this!

(no all is lost, my kid, 13, won a "Book cover competition", and the book was launched at our favourite bookshop, Van Piere in Eindhoven, pics here)

​I keep receiving recommendations to read Terry Pratchett's series Discworld (1st book published in 1983), so I wondered why I had not read it in my teen years. It seems like something I should have at least heard of then, and I'm certain I did not at the time.
Simple: it was only published in French in 1993, a few years after I finished high school. By then, I had moved to Portugal, where the Portuguese translation came out in 2011, I believe (someone correct me if I'm wrong.)
I love to read, usually at full speed, but reading English until my early 30s was too painfully slow, so anything not translated into French or Portuguese would not have been on my radar.
It shows how important literary translation is, from and into any language.
Discworld goes now to my long MRL (must-read list of books I do not own yet), not to be mistaken with my TBR (to-be-read list of books I already own and are patiently waiting for me to get to them next)
Have you had any similar experience with well-known books or authors only much later translated into your language than their original publication?

​Harry Potter wrote itself.
Surely, most of the HP universe floated in the ether above the UK, just waiting to be channelled in the ink that bled on those pages. I already had an inkling that there could be some "geomagic" at play after repeated visits to London; but after staying in Edinburgh this past week, I feel it's true.
I am bewitched. And I cannot stop thinking about how much we owe to the places we live in, we visit, we love, and also the ones we hate, the ones we run away from, and ultimately the ones we create in our minds.
A writer has many sources of influence, a sort of unique "nature and culture" brew that will set them apart. It's obvious when they write about historical events or place their fictional events in a specific historical context, but much less when what they write seems disconnected from our reality.
I am convinced however that places have magical powers and some are so strong that you can only give in and write.
It also gives me pause. Are we then limited as well by some places? Is there such a thing as a "geocurse", when one can only write about a limited aspect of the world just because of where they happen to be born or to live?
So, tell me, do you think it's true, that places hold magic for a writer?
What book do you feel could not have been written by someone from any other background or who lived in another place other than the author who wrote it?

​- Hey, we have a voice-over project for you.
We see that you are a professional, and we only want really good, really experienced people, great if they have a certification in voice-over, and even better if they deliver studio quality. Is that you?
- Indeed, that's me.
- Great. How much?
- Please, send me the specifications for this project, and I'll send you a quote.
- It's straightforward though, so just tell us how much you charge for 5 minutes of voice-over.
- Is it 5 minutes on a video or is it 5 minutes of a text to read or...?
- Oh come on, just tell us.
- Please, send me the specifications and I promise I'll send you my quote in the hour.
- But it's just an English-to-French voice-over.
- ... what do you mean...?
- It's an English video that needs a French voice-over.
- You already have the translation then?
- No, that's your job.
- So... you need an English-to-French translation in the 1st place. Do you have the transcription and the time coding?
- Of course not, that's your job.
- So... you need a time-coded transcription of an English video, then a translation into French, then a voice-over for a video, in studio quality.
- That's it, yes. How much for 5 minutes?
- hum... and what is it about?
- It's the user's guide to a very complex machine, with safety features. It's important and urgent, it will be on our website and also used for training in the company and at clients' premises. Oh and we are very strict about the pronunciation of certain words, they must be said precisely the way we like.
- I see. You want a time-coded transcription of an English video about the functioning and safety features of a heavy machine I'd need to research about in order to be sure I get all the terms accurate, a translation into French, a voice-over for a video in studio quality and specific pronunciation of certain words, and the rights to use it for internal and external diffusion forever, and all that done quickly by a trained certified professional?
- That's about it, yes. So, how much?
- This much.
- You are joking?! It's far too much for 5 minutes of easy work, you are French aren't you? Come on, how difficult is it to speak for 5 minutes in a mic?
- Not difficult at all indeed. Good luck with your project.
This, my friends, is the accurate reenactment of some conversations with potential voice-over clients.
How would you answer? Send me your best possible suggestions, so I am ready for the next one.

​1987. I was 17. Paul Auster is speaking with Bernard Pivot. In perfect French.
A young American writer my literature teacher had just raved about in class was interviewed by the authority on all things literature on French TV.
I was captivated.
Not only had I just read and loved his novel "City of Glass" (1984), the first volume of what would be the "New York Trilogy", but I was a fan of Pivot's witty and respectful style of interview.
Much has been said in France about the impact of a live, weekly, literary, prime-time talk show about literature on young - and not so young - minds, and Pivot himself said that his biggest accomplishment was to hear from simple folks he met that they had read more, or even at all, thanks to him. First was "Apostrophes", broadcasted from 1975 to 1990, then "Bouillon de Culture", from 1991 to 2001. I would seldom miss a show.
That day, I could not get over the look of wonder on Pivot's face while listening to Auster talk about how he was a writer but also a translator of French literature into American English. Auster had at this point translated Blanchot, Mallarmé, Sartre, Joubert, and other poets. All complex and delicate. The delighted Pivot was as under Auster's spell as I was, and one thing stuck with me: I wanted that wonder. I wanted to know languages, emotions, and texts so profoundly that I could translate literature and be a writer, like Auster. Do both. And, one day, who knows, be worthy of Mr Pivot.
I'm 54. My dreams have expanded but the essence remains, as I have been a translator for 30 years, and I hope one day that what I write will be worthy of publishing.
Paul Auster left us on April 30th and Bernard Pivot yesterday, May 6th. His legacy is pulsing in each person who became a reader thanks to him.

Question: where do you read?

Things I've (re)learned about reading huge volumes to study - by contrast to reading equally huge volumes for pleasure:

Don't read in bed. You'll end up snoozing faster than it takes to say "I might need another cushion."
Don't read in the garden. The cute birds are way too distracting and then there are those green things swaying slowly so your mind goes to the sea breeze and that nap you took on the hammock.
Don't read on the sofa. See "don't read in bed" above. Sofas have special sleeping proprieties that should be marketed as such by the medical community.
Don't read at the kitchen table. Despite the extra cushions, the chairs are cruel.
Don't read in the kitchen, period. It's way too close to the fridge. And your husband's secret not-so-secret goodies reserve.
Don't read on the toilet. You won't be able to stand on your numb legs after that eternity sitting in the same position.
Don't read in the same room your kid is watching youtube tutorials on whatever or discussing the value of Pokemon cards while needing your urgent input.
Don't read in the car. Green is not a good color on your face. And nobody likes to clean vomit.
Don't read without your reading glasses. Or your noise-reducing headphones.
Don't read if it's 3h for diner time and your kid really needs to know what's for diner. In 3h. Or 2h. Or 1h. Or every minute in between.

Where then?
A café. A restaurant. Somewhere someone can bring your fuel of choice without too much interruption. And you can't fall asleep in public.
A train. The only moving vehicle that'll not make your stomach churn. And you can get coffee.
A library. Somewhere someone else can ask for silence on your behalf.
A room without a bed or sofa but with lock and key. And coffee.
Lots of coffee. So you don't fall asleep.
​

Ever wondered how a burnout feels?
Like this.

A now empty, crashed, and burned-to-the-bone car, that used to carry a lot, worked perfectly for a long time, was useful, had its place among the other cars, and was even new at some point, but for some reason malfunctioned or was misused, and ended up burning, alone, in the dark.

If you feel work makes you so hot under the collar that you might burn, please stop before reaching the point of combustion.

If it's too late, and you are now cleaning up the burned bits, trust professionals (preferentially from the medical field) to guide you to come back to life, healed.

Know you are not alone.
Statistics say that in 2022, 89% of workers worldwide have experienced some form of burnout, while not everyone looked for help or treatment, just plowing ahead for many reasons.
Know that it can be coupled with other issues, whether in your current private life, your health, or past traumas.
Know that it can happen even if you love your job or your career or your employer.
Know that if you keep working while burning, you will make mistakes that might have serious consequences, for someone, you included.
Know that if ignored, it can turn into a deep depression, much more difficult to recover from.
And when you do, expect to be changed by it all. Only you can tell how much.
​

You might have a little sister. Or brother. Or a best friend. Or that annoying yet endearing kid from your neighbourhood who comes to you for tips when you are in the middle of something. Like that elusive spark of an idea you have been working on for hours for one of your clients. Fear no more. I have your back.

My sister came to me a few days ago asking for help setting up her business.
She has a clear idea of what she is going to do, she did the research on viability, she knows her stuff, she has a good network of contacts already, she loves what she is going to do. In terms of what, it's a no-brainer.
Her problem is the how. How does she get things started? Where to begin? It's an overwhelming question for many starting freelancers. It can even put some off starting altogether. She has no background in business or marketing, she does not have a University degree, she is a mum with 2 kids and a gigantic talent in her area.
Luckily, she also has a big sister who did it already. 3 times. Failed twice. And is now running her own successful freelance business.

So I put together a list in order of priorities of my 14 best practical bits of advice for her, for you and for anyone you think might need it. Plus one, from a big sister's heart.

1 Register the legal form of your company and decide on a name
Register wherever is necessary (tax office, chamber of commerce, etc…) in your country of residency, some require that you register to get a VAT number, some not. It's fundamental you are up to date with all the legal requirements before starting to take on work and issuing invoices to avoid any kind of bad surprises, aka tax audit asking you a lot more money than you are prepared to pay.  In any case, it means you need to   decide on a name.

2 Get an accountant specialized in working with freelancers
​Unless you are a wizard of accounting, of course! In any case, it should be someone who understands the ins and outs of your profession, or at least who deals a lot with   freelancers.   Someone you will rely on heavily to keep you on the legal line regarding all financial aspects of your business. With luck, they will be knowledgeable enough to advise you on good or bad business choices.

3 Find a work (jobs, clients, invoicing) management system good for you
It's about a work management system that will work for you, whether it’s online or offline, whether it only manages tasks or also manages invoices, you decide what suits you best. A good old excel or a cloud-based system (like LSP Expert.com, Google Calendar and notes Trello, etc…), a notebook, a combination of several tools, the most important is that you keep an easy track of your tasks, job orders, clients, hours worked, invoices, logins and passwords for all the sites you’ll be accessing, and so on.

4 Create an email account for your company and register your own domain
A free one with Gmail and similar will do, but if you can,   register your own domain: it’s usually not expensive and gives a much more polished impression. Of course, usernames like “pusscat69” or “HankTheHunk” are perfectly fine if your freelance business is of a more sexual nature, otherwise, avoid it. As for “jane123” or “translator567”, it might say that if you cannot be bothered to be professional on such detail for yourself, why would you be better at working for your clients?

5 Create your own website or ask a professional to do it for you
There are several good free   websites builder   options to start, all of which can be upgraded to paying options for more services (SquareSpace, Weebly, Wix, Wordpress, to quote the most known). If you have the budget, though, invest in having a professional    creating it    for you.   Think of it as your virtual office. If your freelance activity does not entail having an actual office to receive visitors, then your website will be your only point of entry to your "office". It has to reflect who you are, what you do and how you do it.

6 Create/update your LinkedIn profile and grow your network
Add information about your new company. It’s the perfect occasion to   rework your profile description, maybe even to   connect    with professionals or companies you are interested in getting in touch with.  Think not only in connecting with colleagues, people of your own professional sector, but also with potential clients.

7 Create your company's profile(s) on social media platforms suited to it
  Create a Facebook page or Instagram  profile  dedicated  to your company. Depending on the sector of activity, one or the other works best, or both. Think about other social media platforms that would suit your business better or as well (podcasts, YouTube, TikTok...).   Maybe a podcast will suit you better than Facebook, maybe your potential clients are TikTokers, you know what is the best fit for you, just subscribe in your company's name.

8 Open a bank account dedicated for your business
 Unless in your country it’s really easy to keep things separate, it’s usually better for accounting purposes to have separate accounts. It will avoid at least wasting your accountant's time. And knowing how much you pay them, it's always worth the investment.

9 Get professional liability insurance
 Depending on your country, it might be mandatory. It’s always a good idea in any case.  You are not planning on making any mistake on that big order or that your visitor break a leg coming in your office, but s**** happen. Be covered.

10 Get professional photos that will showcase your business
 Get professional photos  of yourself taken. Good photos of yourself to use on social media profiles, on your website, etc… are always a good way to showcase your business and cause a greater impression on your target audience.
You put your face where your work and their money is.

11 Get some writing for social media or SEO or Marketing training
No need to go too in-depth, if you are not working in that sector of activity, but if you have a social media presence, you must understand the basics of how to make it work in your favour.

12 Create posts with the right  aesthetics
 Create posts with good pictures, and aesthetics that work for your business. There are a number of resources available for free (that you can always upgrade to paying) like Canva.com to create posts, banners, flyers, and much more, or Unsplash.com for good quality photos, among dozens of equally good sites.

13 Create a logo for your brand and define your brand voice
 If your brand is clear to you, it might be good to have a professional working with you on a logo.
This might also be a good moment to reflect on your brand as a whole, to think about your   brand voice.  Yes, you'll have to Google that one. Go.

14 Network, network, network 
 Network. To build up your business, you need a   solid network of colleagues and clients. There is nothing like a good reputation and being part of a community, of several groups of interest. Go to Social Networking opportunities, Conventions, Symposiums, Conferences, Associations dinners, Meetups. Subscribe to discussion groups on Facebook, interact on LinkedIn, Instagram and so on. Don’t think of it as time wasted on social media, think of it as getting to know your business world, sharing who you are, who your brand is, and help whenever you can more than you ask for help. The return you’ll get will amaze you: you’ll be part of a community you’ll be able to rely on every day.

Being freelance does not mean that you’ll be alone all the time. It just means you’ll be free to be alone when you want.

Take care of yourself, your mental and physical health.
And the last, my plus 1 on those 14, probably the most forgotten and nonetheless the most important I gave to my little sister, so I'm offering it to you as well:   take care of your health. 
 Sleep, get fresh air, eat well, take time off regularly, don’t forget about your social life.

You’ll get so obsessed with your business, your baby, that you’ll forget about your other basic needs. Don’t. It’s what’ll give you the strength to face failures (guaranteed to happen) and pick yourself up to go on and get the wins (also guaranteed to happen).

The beginning of a freelance activity is both exhilarating and terrifying. I know, I've been there at least 3 times. The first 2 times, I failed, for several reasons, but mostly because I had no clue about a few points on this list I've now put together. I'll come back to my reasons for failure in another article.
Although this is just very basic advice many will find obvious, it's not so for absolute beginners with no business or marketing background and for those who just have an idea, lots of energy and big dreams.

Now, you can go back to work knowing you can always pull off your sleeve my little list of 14 +1 basic tips for beginners freelance.

Stay tuned for more. I'm thinking of 10 +1 tips to be less socially awkward in networking events when we are all allowed to socialize again. It may or may not involve drinks.
What do you think?

 
After 18 months of language training, today was the last lesson with one of my students.

A bittersweet feeling, as my task is complete, the student is happy, but I will miss her.

I always feel a bit of a loss when a training is over.
I learn from my students, about them, their cultures, their ideas, but also about my own language knowledge, as there are always questions asked by someone that leads me to go look why some aspect of the language is the way it is.

In this instance, my student needed to work on her language skills as well as cultural awareness to not only feel integrated into the French society, as a newcomer and a mother of young children but also find a job compatible with her high skills in a competitive market. She needed to acquire fluency and confidence and cultural awareness. She is now off to meet recruiters and blow them away with her wonderful French skills coloured with a delightful barely-there foreign accent.

As for me, I'll be concentrating on the other 19 individual students from different countries that I have the pleasure and privilege to teach tailor-made contents in either French or Portuguese right now.
​
Did I mention how much I love teaching languages?

#teaching #Language #BlendedLearning #Face2Face #OnlineTraining #CulturalAwareness

My white sneakers need cleaning.

I'm quite fond of them, I use them a lot, I want to keep them as white as possible without damaging them. But how?

I thought of looking it up on Youtube. There are How-to videos for everything these days. You don't need to be a specialist anymore. Type it, see it, do it. I'm a great believer of doing stuff myself, I can paint the walls of my house, make my garden flourish, bake bread, check the oil of my car, bandage a wound, and even connect small electrical cables with a domino if needed. What I don't know, I Google.
​
Then I thought "and if it fails? My favourite sneakers will be ruined." So I did the only thing one does when something is really important: I asked an expert. I called my mum.
You see, some of the useful skills in my life are a direct result of years of doing things alongside my dad or my mum. The one I cherish above all is the will to try. I'm by no means fearless, no, as I am often afraid before trying something new, but I do it anyway. And I do it again, I do it enough to perfect it. I work on it. They taught me that. To do my best. To be proud of what I do.
​
So, while thinking of the best way to clean my white sneakers, and after calling my mum, I thought of all the other instances when calling an expert who perfected their craft with love, time, and talent is the best way to ensure that something important is well done.

Oh, and by the way, my mum said that using a soft brush and tepid water with some dishwashing soap, and let it dry under the sunshine.ry under the sunshine.

I think I might just do that, let the sun do it's magic, on me and my sneakers.