The unexpected nature of patriotic love

My relationship with Belgium has always been ambiguous. Some of the most difficult parts of my life happened before I was six, while living there. But then again, some pretty rough episodes came during the subsequent 17 years, while I was in Brazil; I just never thought about blaming the South American country. But I did blame Belgium, maybe because that was what my mother did. Even though I had this mixed feeling of pride for being born in a European country because it made me different from most Brazilians, I always told whoever wanted to listen that I would never go there without a return ticket. Continue reading “The unexpected nature of patriotic love”