IN a portuguese valley, where a wide net of stars hangs above a quiet valley washed out by an early morning sun, my character was bizarrely challenged and my work threatened, and all the while, a cast of rough portuguese men and kind portuguese mothers and barrel chested norwegian men and bright-smiling british girls and french spanish zen Don Juans and a plentitude of odd characters alike have filled in all the gaps that make more a home, a family, and a village than I could have ever known. And for this, myself, a lost boy with dreams of finding adventure in narrow Spanish city streets and wide French mountain valleys, I will be more grateful for life and the spilling out of experience and luck that has been given to me in the short while I've had to lead it.
So for all of this and so much more, don't hate on spoiled brown boys, beauty, and the luck of the draw that weaves it all so delicately together.
