The answer to the question "who are you?" is, according to French philosopher Paul Ricoeur, the story of a life. Granted, the most obvious answer is a name. Who are you? I am Munan. But behind that name, there lies what I have done and what has happened to me. There lies the story of my life. When people meet each other, they inevitably ask each other this question, be it out loud or by an inquiring look, in a whisper or through a raised eyebrow. So when Rihanna Gaga was born, that first moment I saw her, I wondered who she was - by our mere presence, her mother and I asked her this question. And, inevitably, we had to answer it ourselves, by giving her a name. Hello, there you are - and this is who you are. Normally, it is the height of bad manners to tell someone who he or she is: we are supposed to let people answer for themselves (although we all too often fail at this, providing people with a story through our expectations and prejudices, a story they may not feel comfartable with at all). But naming a child is providing her with her first life story - the story from which all other stories will be derived. At the same time, from the moment she was born, her intent, curious gaze - astonishingly alert for a newborn baby - she asked the same question from me. And whether she intended it or not, she provided me with an answer as well: from then on, I was to be her father.
As the days, weeks and months go by, however, I find that she more and more is formulating her own answer to that question of who she is, although she still cannot do so in words. The curiousity has not gone from her eyes. She seems to meet every day with a lust for live and the intention to discover new things, to get as much from her waking hours as possible. She is incredibly lively, a little know-it-all with a smile that will seduce anyone to smile back - and she won't be content until whoever she encounters has acknowledged her existence in this or any other way.
I was gone for six days. I had to go to Lisbon for a conference and after several days, I started to feel as if part of the answer to who I was became blurred because I wasn't with my daughter. I realise this is ridiculous. Whether I am with her or not, I am her father and this won't be the last time I will be away from her - nor the longest. There will even come a day - because there will have to come a day - when she will spent significantly more time away from me than with me. But I had never been away from her for such a long time until now and over the days I felt an increasing sense of uneasiness.
So it feels good to be back and to be with her again. It is Monday morning, time to head to the beach for breakfast. The plan was to visit the northern beach, but because Rihanna Gaga returned to her bed after breakfast and slept until well after ten, I decide to remain closer to home. We go to Buena Vista Beach Club, part of a row of four beach clubs south of the main boulevard that we haven't visited yet.
Inside, Buena Vista Beach Club has opted for timeless classiness, with large Chesterfield couches and decoration that mostly consists of natural accessoires such as beautifully, polished pieces of tree. Outside, this beach club has a typical lounge atmosphere: couches to recline upon and large wooden tables, mostly executed in red and black.
Musically, today has little excitement to bring us. They are playing a mix of pop songs from a few years back in accoustic arrangements. However brilliant songs like "Titanium" and "Grenade" are, the fun disappears when they are performed as slow moving ballads. The only song that is welcomed with a big smile from Rihanna Gaga is the accoustic version of "Gangnam Style"- but that song is so utterly magnificent that it would sound good no matter how it is performed.
We are warmly welcomed by the very friendly waitress, whom Rihanna Gaga seems to like a lot - and apparently, the feeling is mutual. We sit down outside. I prefer the atmosphere inside this beach club, where I have spent quite a few rainy mornings last year, but the weather is just too nice today to go inside. We find a shady spot close to the entrance, overlooking most of the large terrace of Buena Vista Beach Club and the sea beyond.
Rihanna Gaga spents much of her time here hopping around on the couch and practicing her handclapping. She's perfecting her art, over the course of the last week she has managed to create a sound when she claps her hands together. She is incredibly proud of this, and like always when she has learned a new trick, it has to be repeated again - and again, and again, and again.Apart from that, she is quite cuddly today, proof that she missed me too. And so is the fact that she looks me in the eye more often than usual, regularly turning towards me as if to make sure I am watching her. We have kept in contact through Skype during the last week. It is funny that such a young baby already understands the concept of Skype. She realises it's me
and she realises she can communicate with me, even though she can only see me on the screen. Towards the end of the week, though, she would get frustrated after a while, clearly wanting to see me and her mother - who joined me in Lisbon for the weekend while my mum, Rihanna Gaga's grandmother, was babysitting - in real life, rather than on screen.
The set breakfast I have ordered, takes a while. The waitress acknowledges this and assures me the croissant is in the oven by now, but I don't really mind. Life is good and the atmosphere of Buena Vista Beach Club appeals to me. When the breakfast arrives, it is quite good: nice crunchy muesli with fresh fruit and nice yoghurt, a tasty croissant, stir fried eggs that are very well don, ham, cheese and two slices of bread - not too expensive at €8,50. Rihanna Gaga joins in for some of the yoghurt and small pieces of bread, and shares my mint tea. The sky is clear blue, the boulevard quite busy but the beach club almost empty and life is good.
As the days, weeks and months go by, however, I find that she more and more is formulating her own answer to that question of who she is, although she still cannot do so in words. The curiousity has not gone from her eyes. She seems to meet every day with a lust for live and the intention to discover new things, to get as much from her waking hours as possible. She is incredibly lively, a little know-it-all with a smile that will seduce anyone to smile back - and she won't be content until whoever she encounters has acknowledged her existence in this or any other way.
I was gone for six days. I had to go to Lisbon for a conference and after several days, I started to feel as if part of the answer to who I was became blurred because I wasn't with my daughter. I realise this is ridiculous. Whether I am with her or not, I am her father and this won't be the last time I will be away from her - nor the longest. There will even come a day - because there will have to come a day - when she will spent significantly more time away from me than with me. But I had never been away from her for such a long time until now and over the days I felt an increasing sense of uneasiness.
So it feels good to be back and to be with her again. It is Monday morning, time to head to the beach for breakfast. The plan was to visit the northern beach, but because Rihanna Gaga returned to her bed after breakfast and slept until well after ten, I decide to remain closer to home. We go to Buena Vista Beach Club, part of a row of four beach clubs south of the main boulevard that we haven't visited yet.
Inside, Buena Vista Beach Club has opted for timeless classiness, with large Chesterfield couches and decoration that mostly consists of natural accessoires such as beautifully, polished pieces of tree. Outside, this beach club has a typical lounge atmosphere: couches to recline upon and large wooden tables, mostly executed in red and black.
Musically, today has little excitement to bring us. They are playing a mix of pop songs from a few years back in accoustic arrangements. However brilliant songs like "Titanium" and "Grenade" are, the fun disappears when they are performed as slow moving ballads. The only song that is welcomed with a big smile from Rihanna Gaga is the accoustic version of "Gangnam Style"- but that song is so utterly magnificent that it would sound good no matter how it is performed.
We are warmly welcomed by the very friendly waitress, whom Rihanna Gaga seems to like a lot - and apparently, the feeling is mutual. We sit down outside. I prefer the atmosphere inside this beach club, where I have spent quite a few rainy mornings last year, but the weather is just too nice today to go inside. We find a shady spot close to the entrance, overlooking most of the large terrace of Buena Vista Beach Club and the sea beyond.Rihanna Gaga spents much of her time here hopping around on the couch and practicing her handclapping. She's perfecting her art, over the course of the last week she has managed to create a sound when she claps her hands together. She is incredibly proud of this, and like always when she has learned a new trick, it has to be repeated again - and again, and again, and again.Apart from that, she is quite cuddly today, proof that she missed me too. And so is the fact that she looks me in the eye more often than usual, regularly turning towards me as if to make sure I am watching her. We have kept in contact through Skype during the last week. It is funny that such a young baby already understands the concept of Skype. She realises it's me
and she realises she can communicate with me, even though she can only see me on the screen. Towards the end of the week, though, she would get frustrated after a while, clearly wanting to see me and her mother - who joined me in Lisbon for the weekend while my mum, Rihanna Gaga's grandmother, was babysitting - in real life, rather than on screen.
The set breakfast I have ordered, takes a while. The waitress acknowledges this and assures me the croissant is in the oven by now, but I don't really mind. Life is good and the atmosphere of Buena Vista Beach Club appeals to me. When the breakfast arrives, it is quite good: nice crunchy muesli with fresh fruit and nice yoghurt, a tasty croissant, stir fried eggs that are very well don, ham, cheese and two slices of bread - not too expensive at €8,50. Rihanna Gaga joins in for some of the yoghurt and small pieces of bread, and shares my mint tea. The sky is clear blue, the boulevard quite busy but the beach club almost empty and life is good.
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