Why don’t people stay in Portugal?

The effect of migration is like that of alcohol or money (…) at first enhancing our experience and enjoyment of life, with the potential to become an unexpected problem or pain

For the native Portuguese, the pattern is clear. That of leaving the homeland seeking better prospects in life, as demonstrated by the earliest navigators who, for the benefit of kingdom and nation, set sail and subsequently a standard for proceeding countrymen and women, who left in search of better conditions for self and family.

Some notable examples from the latter category, I have recently learned, made France a destination when – from the 1950s particularly – they faced circumstantial and conscientious conditions so grim, they left on foot, making a perilous and illegal crossing of Spain, then over the Pyrenees.

Others, as you’ll learn from Portuguese neighbours of a certain age, tried their luck in the colonies, some taken there by military conscription, and making the best of a bad bunch of circumstances, prospering post-conflict. And, of course, more recently, the notable economic recessions in living memory had especially the young Portuguese seek fortune elsewhere on the planet, some never to return except for the annual festa in their ‘ancestral home’.

Whilst I might claim similar ‘economic migrant’ motivations, armed with just the mobile home offered by our tiny camper van and the meagrest of survival-level finances (which reminds me of those country song lyrics: “I started out with nothing, and I’ve got most of it left”), I – like most ‘white collar’ migrants into Portugal – can only bow in respect of the history and culture of the Portuguese diaspora. Perhaps their journeys and challenges have them better disposed towards us, as people brave enough to leave ‘home’ and make a new one here, despite our relative comfort and privilege?

That said (and perhaps the perpetually restless Portuguese know and are compassionate about this too), it doesn’t always work out; with the best laid plans sometimes coming apart, making the dream a nightmare. This, I have to say, is something I am seeing on a more regular basis, given my close proximity to the incoming movers and shakers who have seen Portugal as their escape or preference, when faced with intolerable, or at least less favourable, situations.

So, why are they leaving? In this, the demographic most familiar to me, predominantly of baby boomer Brits and Americans, it can be summarised in two words, at least so far in my reckoning, and they are: family and health.

The Portuguese will no doubt be sympathetic to the first, which must have been the worst nightmare when considering their exit, giving us, of course, a poignant and grievous understanding of the ‘saudade’ that one imagines is found in the DNA of everyone from Portugal, whether they now leave, or not.

In the upside and excitement of moving country, and the advent of Zoom, as well as the allure of welcoming relatives for a Portuguese holiday, the ‘family side’ of emigrating gets managed. And with the threat of worsening health in expat old age comes hope and the comfort of an up-till-now, accommodating public health system and a stunningly less expensive private health provision. The most sensible hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. All is well. Until it isn’t.

Perfectly plausible then, these two apocalyptic horsemen of our personal Portuguese plans, and all are well advised to be aware of them. But let me add some nuance here and share with you further thoughts on how these actual inevitabilities can be put into perspective, and perhaps more favourably met.

‘Successful’ migrants

Let me start with a bit of background, albeit tangential context, from my observations of the most ‘successful’ migrants, and by that, I mean most fulfilled and sustainably happy. There are two things that are worth knowing, in my opinion, that contribute to a functional and healthy expat life.

The first is to see that the effect of migration is like that of alcohol or money. Neither are intrinsically bad in themselves, like the fact of being in a foreign country, but all of these things can magnify and distort reality; at first enhancing our experience and enjoyment of life, with the potential to become an unexpected problem or pain.

The second is that, whilst I am guilty as charged of accentuating the positives of Portugal, a wholesale denial or discussion of the negatives is potentially very dangerous and even ultimately toxic in relation to your long-term intentions. There’s a time and a place for everything, and complaining about our personal problems publicly is not a good look, but worse still, the least effective way to get relief and freedom from the things that ail us.

Didn’t Confucius say: “He who complains on social media will end up more confused and sad than he was when he first logged in?” Maybe he didn’t, but he would have, I’m sure, because anyone who angrily vents on Facebook about a Portuguese plight is likely to spend the next few days smarting, spurned or banned. And understandably so, to my mind.

Better then to find a formal place or space to share one’s inevitable awkwardnesses and have others hear you, at first to ‘get it off your chest’ and then, when ready, to get moral support and ultimately practical advice.

I’ll dare to say that if such small and regular niggles are not aired and attended to, they can indeed become toxic, especially when they amass; an objectively petty matter becoming the straw that breaks the back of your life here. I have seen it: the ‘last straw’ that alone would be overcome on any normal day. Yet, when added to an already festering and malignant catalogue of other such tedious matters becomes explosive.

It’s not a weakness to ask for help

The big irony here, I want you to see, is that this process of compounding and unattended anxiety can not only worsen your health, especially your mental wellbeing, it can also have you missing the support network you once knew – your family, even if you were, once upon a time not long ago, quite happy to leave many of them behind!

So, there you have it: what we might call expat exacerbation of normally manageable and predictable life challenges, which quickly become overwhelming if not dealt with in good time and open-minded, open-hearted practicality.

There are rare exceptions to my ‘rules’, who appear to rely on dogged determination and that ‘therapy is for weaklings’ gung-ho-ness. But I suspect time will tell, as it has for me, knowing now that what we don’t deal with finds us wherever we move to – whether that’s old imported ‘stuff’ or new issues acquired in the process of creating our new lives here.

It’s not a weakness to ask for help, and none of us will make this journey alone. I would also add that it’s heroic to take on the behavioural patterns that rear their ugly heads, when we are faced with life’s inescapable and temptingly avoidable challenges.

We can make this a new start in so many wonderful ways, despite circumstance and ourselves, but we must allow time and space for that which might undermine our best intentions.

Find out more about Carl’s monthly, private online support group – ‘Beef, grief and relief’ – at www.goodmorningportugal.com