Time to complain

“Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.” (A. Machado)

Brno, UAN Zvonařka, 2:30 a.m.

Returning to this city still makes me glad.
I’m coming back after a long road trip from Ukraine. The journey has started with meeting my second family, and I could never be happier than now. I’ve experienced a genuine attachment to what they have, to their roots and their tradition. People smiling at each other because of a thousands-year-old belief; even the soldier enters the bus greeting “Khrystos Voskres”.
On the trip back I sit next to a beautiful middle-aged Ukrainian lady. I had missed for a long time the gift of conversations with such kind of random people, when it was common and even easy, speaking the same language. Now we try to understand each other with her expert Slovak and my meager Czech.
This woman hasn’t enjoyed a happy Easter; she had barely two days to see her mother for the last time, passed away right on the Holy Sunday. I really don’t know how to say “I’m sorry”, so I hold her hand for a second.
She’s curious about my Italian passport, she tells me about very common old songs she knows, her dreams of visiting my romantic country, or France, or Spain. Instead she has to work in Slovakia for 300 Euros per month, not even every month, same as her husband.
The woman can’t stop smiling and waving from the window when I change bus.

And now I’m back here, surrounded by impolite, unhappy faces. Many days I would just like to slap those faces; “Wake up, damn! What the hell are you missing?”
Starting from this lack of human contact, I might say that I’m missing a lot, but what should I really complain for?
The truth is that I’m happy with my choices and I wouldn’t change a thing, at the moment. I have everything I need in this city, I feel safe here, the nature around is wonderful and I envy the locals, as they know how to keep it clean.

I don’t see anything brave in my choice; I’ve always followed what I wanted and found more convenient, certainly I miss my country and my family, for the rest I didn’t have the power to hold what preferred to be left behind. I would go back, but right now I’m not ready for working hard for just paying taxes, and for walking the only unsafe streets I’ve ever walked.

Two years after starting my journey abroad, some friends still ask me for advice.
Here’s what I can tell you:
Be ready for loneliness, for anger, for disappointments, for longing, but try not to complain. You will never be a champion in complaining, that’s the true national sport in Italy and too many player will be better than you. In Czech instead they’ve already won the championship of good manners.
The treasures are hidden in each journey, even in the one around your nest, if you waste time complaining, you’ll be too blind to find it.
Every little step counts. Everything has a reason.