The return of the sweet trauma 
to survive when you work in difficult and remote area such as Nigeria, the brain comes up with different solutions and the most 'of the time, these are memories, images and thoughts of what you expect or what you just experienced and appreciated.
E 'exactly what is happening at this time. They are in the works for two days, the working day and 'just finished and it' was hard as ever.
I got now in my container / dormitory after eating alone in a dish of rice with an orange sauce and dry in the canteen of the camp. I do not know if you see a little bit 'of TV or update your blog ...
guess you already 'knew I opted for that solution! The brain has started to fly and when a series of images as sharp as I have never brought to mind the recent visit to Gologone, I could not resist.
No more 'no later than twenty days ago I was able to return to Sardinia on the occasion of my second smontante from Nigeria. Living in London and working in Africa the chance to 'go back to what I consider my "real" house falls down, but this time, after more' for seven months on the lam, the gap had become really unbearable and my emotional journey, this time, you can 'say it is already started' purchase of airline tickets on the Internet. How exciting
prepare your luggage before returning home. What a thrill when the taxi arrives to take the house at Wimbledon and Manu positions with the luggage in the boot. The most 'of the time, I have a feeling almost stunned, happy as a deportation, as a jump in time and space. Any departure 'as a one tear, the route to the airport is always in silence, in a state of contemplation and fear do not understand. Perhaps you are afraid to find everything changed, perhaps you are afraid to find that time passes and e 'out of our control, or just afraid that others will not recognize more' you ... transformed by experiences so 'radical and so' quick to make you stranger in the eyes of those who waited.
Within a few days I have already 'tasted the sweet trauma of the passage from Africa to London and now I prepare for the impact of a side of my life ... the real one, that formed me and not transformed, that the more 'call "roots".
As the plane flies over the turquoise waters of the Emerald Coast can not pull the nose out the window and on their way to the airport of Olbia share with others passengers (mostly 'British tourists), an unnatural silence, silence for others' amazement ... for me and 'something more'!
When you return home after so long of course if there were no changes in seconds. The critical moment 'when you get off the plane and leave the airport. If there 'someone waiting for the others have not changed, if when you try embracing the feeling of a few minutes before greeting them, you're not changed.
Here's what I felt when I found my father waiting outside dal'aereoporto. It 'was like you never left. Within minutes, traveling to Nuoro, seemed to be back back in time and the feeling of home and belonging was magically restored. What magic
those mountains, that sea, the vegetation, the smells and behaviors so 'ancient and recognizable. Even the immorality of that property in Nuoro mobility 'of modern times ... that charm!
Then finally I get home, my beloved home Nuoro. Almost an ancient banner of the family to remember the city 'who we are and who we were. Even though we live far away now. Then my mother waiting at the door ... embrace a strong, true, from mother to child. I moved away a step closer look, I find this account in full form and is manifested by a sweet sigh of relief. Nothing 's gonna change, and' everything remains as it stands ... in my wanderings I have not lost anything!
few minutes and are already 'in the loop of my family, so' so heavy 'sweet. It makes me wonder once again how wonderfully everything has remained the same, even and especially in dealing with them. Few minutes and we are already 'speaking event of the year ... my marriage!
The frenzy of the organization and 'sugar for my mind, finally focused on personal things and the joy that will be'.
Suddenly, after two months of debilitating fatigue and a depersonalized life dramatically in the African Continent, I again a wife, a name, a past, a city 'and a family.
- Post From My iPhone
Now that he left Milan in triumph to Madrid in search of a less treacherous habitat football and more congenial to him, even his tormented and bitter detractors will candidly admit, the Portuguese Jose Mario dos Santos Mourinho Felix - for everyone, or almost, the "Special One "- the right to enter the list of the greatest coaches that Italian football has ever seen in over a century of history. There goes so loud, as loudly - it was June 3, 2008 - came during the first conference of Inter coach, which stunned the audience with an already excellent command of the language of Dante and quell'esilarante "are not prick " that softened the instant fame and hard at the same time it confirmed the instincts of a wise cause: the beginning of a long series of releases and apt word that would soon contributed to many successes together naturally harvested on the rectangle Green would go and add up to numerous past achievements with Porto and Chelsea, to make the mythical figure of today quarantasettenne Mr. Setubal in the eyes of the Inter fans. 
