JULIANA
Juliana
strikes me immediately as a beautiful girl. She has
an air of calm spirituality about her. Born in Brazil
to a Cape Verdian family, she came to Holland when
she was just a year old. She likes Rotterdam; it’s
where she feels she belongs and has more
opportunities. Nevertheless, she calls Brazil her
home and feels she has strong Cape Verdian roots.
She lives with her mom, who she is obviously very close to. When I ask about her dad she tells me that he was not a very kind man when he was alive, he was aggressive and terrorized the house. Her mother is, and always has been, a housewife. No matter how many times Juliana told her mother to get up and leave when her father was around, her mother always stayed. Like most Cape Verdian women of her generation, she thought she was nothing without her husband.
As a teenager Juliana was angry with her dad and, many times, she found herself wishing he were not there. When she was sixteen, her thoughts become reality. One night, her father didn’t come home; the next day, they found out he had suffered a blood clot in his brain and died. She tells me of how she was riding the tram on a rainy day and telling her best friend, ‘I think something happened to my dad.’ It was a strong feeling that just came over her out of the blue. When she got home she found people crying and learned that he had died.
At first, she felt numb; she didn’t cry. The pain only kicked in later on. Now, she regrets never having experienced a father-daughter relationship. Her mother’s still sad. When I ask her if things got better at home she tells me, ‘It’s hard to say this but, yes. All this time we were sleeping with one eye open, as you never knew what he would do if he came back drunk. At least we can sleep in peace now.’
Although she’s not religious herself, she’s been accompanying her mother – a Jehovah witness - to services ever since she was 7-years-old. She appreciates the atmosphere of spirituality, the attention and the chance for moments of calm reflection within her busy city life. She’s seen how her mother’s faith has given her the power to ask questions and seek the answers she needed, and so she still goes with her sometimes.
Juliana knows she can do things alone. She has a boyfriend she loves, and she’s working in a clothing store and as a waitress. She doesn’t mind hard work but she wants to be her own boss. She’s saving up to open her own clothing store, with her best friend. For her, it’s not about making money: she wants to make her own rules. No matter how independent she becomes, her mother still prepares a huge pan of soup every week so that Juliana can take some to work each day in a red little thermos. Despite everything, she feels her mother raised her well and gave her all the tools she needs to find her way in life. She tells it simply: ‘My mother was my father and my mother in one.’
She lives with her mom, who she is obviously very close to. When I ask about her dad she tells me that he was not a very kind man when he was alive, he was aggressive and terrorized the house. Her mother is, and always has been, a housewife. No matter how many times Juliana told her mother to get up and leave when her father was around, her mother always stayed. Like most Cape Verdian women of her generation, she thought she was nothing without her husband.
As a teenager Juliana was angry with her dad and, many times, she found herself wishing he were not there. When she was sixteen, her thoughts become reality. One night, her father didn’t come home; the next day, they found out he had suffered a blood clot in his brain and died. She tells me of how she was riding the tram on a rainy day and telling her best friend, ‘I think something happened to my dad.’ It was a strong feeling that just came over her out of the blue. When she got home she found people crying and learned that he had died.
At first, she felt numb; she didn’t cry. The pain only kicked in later on. Now, she regrets never having experienced a father-daughter relationship. Her mother’s still sad. When I ask her if things got better at home she tells me, ‘It’s hard to say this but, yes. All this time we were sleeping with one eye open, as you never knew what he would do if he came back drunk. At least we can sleep in peace now.’
Although she’s not religious herself, she’s been accompanying her mother – a Jehovah witness - to services ever since she was 7-years-old. She appreciates the atmosphere of spirituality, the attention and the chance for moments of calm reflection within her busy city life. She’s seen how her mother’s faith has given her the power to ask questions and seek the answers she needed, and so she still goes with her sometimes.
Juliana knows she can do things alone. She has a boyfriend she loves, and she’s working in a clothing store and as a waitress. She doesn’t mind hard work but she wants to be her own boss. She’s saving up to open her own clothing store, with her best friend. For her, it’s not about making money: she wants to make her own rules. No matter how independent she becomes, her mother still prepares a huge pan of soup every week so that Juliana can take some to work each day in a red little thermos. Despite everything, she feels her mother raised her well and gave her all the tools she needs to find her way in life. She tells it simply: ‘My mother was my father and my mother in one.’