English

Not infrequently, my Portuguese friends wonder why I write in English. Well, the reasoning is simple: I am, first and foremost, a citizen of this planet called Earth and I wish to be understood by as many people in it as possible. Hopefully that won’t sound clichéd or pretentious, because it truly is why I do it.

As of today, English is not only the world's most widely used language, but also in use by 55.6% of all the websites whose content language is known. So as long as I feel capable of expressing myself with enough fluency in the most widespread of languages and if that allows me to reach (and be understood by) a larger number of people, I will do so without hesitation.

Or, at least, without much hesitation. I have naturally considered the pros and cons of either option, before I started writing these essays. Doing it in Portuguese would certainly give me a higher degree of exposure among my closest friends and acquaintances (geographically speaking) and that was an undeniably tempting proposition. But it would mean to forego not only those living in other parts of the world (and some of them are indeed my closest friends, in a non-geographical sense), but also, potentially, all English-speaking people.

Now, pardon me if I sound overly ambitious. I know for a fact that a newly created blog by a virtual unknown has virtually zero exposure. But please indulge me. The web defies conventional thinking in the sense that it is the place where everyone indeed has a voice. You don’t need anyone’s consent or seal of approval to publish anything. You just write it, post it and it is there, for everyone to read. And the more you write and the greater the number of potential readers, the better. So there.

I also happen to love English. It’s been so, for more than 25 years. I’m lucky to live in a country where films aren’t dubbed (the practice of dubbing is, in my opinion, a cultural crime that should be eradicated; there’s simply no excuse for disfiguring works of art in the name of viewers’ laziness), which means I’ve been exposed to the English language (among others) from very early on, as it became an integral part of my (cultural) view of the world. But the moment I found it was a real passion came a little later, more precisely in August 1988.

I had been a computer nerd for some time already, when I purchased my first copy of a magazine called Your Sinclair, while on summer holidays with my parents that year. It was issue number 32, I still have it (and all the ones that followed) and I remember that moment as if it were yesterday. Suddenly here I was, with something in my hands written in a foreign language (which I didn't yet master, although mostly understood) and the connection was immediate - I wasn’t just fascinated by what was written there, but also how it was written.

Your Sinclair was a famous monthly British magazine, covering the world of the ZX Spectrum personal home computer. Its irreverent style and (very British) sense of humour set it apart from the crowd, and it's still fondly remembered and cherished to this day - it was truly unique. And I simply loved reading it from cover to cover. Dictionary always nearby, I’d wade my way through every single article of every single page and my English kept improving accordingly. This self-learning process was invaluable in developing my fluency in the language; as much, I'm certain, as my formal education at school.

I subscribed to YS (as it was known by its readers) after a few issues and this reminds me how special it was, in those days, to get a magazine through the mail each month. How remarkable was the connection you felt towards a discrete, packaged experience, versus the endless river of information you have to dip in and out of nowadays*. The arrival of YS each month was an event and it would have my entire, undivided attention, for hours on end.

I subscribed to many more (mostly British) magazines throughout the years and, presently, more than 90% of my reading time is done in English (although rarely in print, I’m afraid). The fact that I hardly ever hear or read a word of Portuguese in my leisure, has led to the uncanny situation of finding myself thinking in English most of the time, not to mention having my conversations in Portuguese sprinkled with English expressions, something I believe I'm pretty well known for. Most people probably think I'm crazy or a pretentious asshole. But it comes so naturally to me that I don't even notice, so I hope I'm neither.

Regardless of the language we choose to express ourselves in, being clear and articulate when communicating with others is what really matters the most. I personally take immense care (and pride) in the way I write and speak. To make myself perfectly understood is of the utmost importance, in every single occasion. Because if we take no pride in communicating well, what right do we have to call ourselves social human beings?