2 minute read
X-Pat Expert - Kam Heskin
Kam Heskin Expat Mum life in the Algarve
An American actress trades in Hollywood hills for the Algarve.
Advertisement
@kamekam
Kam is a mum of two, fresh off the boat, having escaped from the United States in search of a new lifestyle.
Not a new California, a better one...
Four days. That’s the total amount of time I’d spent in Portugal before immigrating here. I packed my boys, my husband, my house, my car (I was naively ambitious with that one), and my elderly dog before taking a giant leap of faith into the Algarve.
Let me explain how I got here. At 3am, on June 5th, 2020, I went into labour at our home high in the Hollywood Hills. My trusty husband grabbed our masks, ‘ready’ bag, and a large cardboard sign as I waddled to the car, taking one last selfie. We sped down deserted Laurel Canyon until we reached the tanks blocking Sunset Boulevard (BLM protests). My husband brandished the homemade, but good to have, Woman in Labor, Cedars-Sinai! sign, and a soldier gave us a thumbs up, and waved us through. After gathering visas, criminal background checks, NIFs and health insurance applications, we left the US for good. Remember how I said I’d only spent four days in Portugal before moving here? Yes, well, luckily, it’s been great.
When we got to the hospital, they quickly admitted me, but made my husband wait in the car for several hours due to Covid plague protocols. A very short 48 hours later, the doctors sent us home because the risk of the virus outweighed the post-operative dangers of having a C-section.
In case you didn’t know, 2020 saw California pretty much entirely on fire. So after returning home, we resealed ourselves in our little airpurified sanctum with a new pandemic baby thinking, “Wow, that was intense, but we made it.” A few nights later, a bassinet-rocking (cradle) 4.3 earthquake woke us up, and I finally told my husband: “OK, we’re out.” Portugal is safe, the cops are friendly – there’s nothing to fear from them here – and if someone is wearing a red hat, it’s Benfica, not MAGA. There are no active shooter drills for elementary students either. At four-years-old, my son’s pre-school had to practice hiding and staying quiet in case a ‘stranger’ came into the building.
My sons pursed their lips at their first taste of Portuguese yogurts because they lacked 50g of sugar in every spoonful. Bread goes stale here in a day or two, versus the ‘fresh’ loaves still good for weeks in the US, and the A22 traffic with its occasional horse and cart is no comparison to the carmageddon of the 405.
I have to say, I love everything here, the people are kind, the food’s delicious and everyone is surprisingly friendly. Even our old dog is thriving, She’s the slightly croaky voice in the nightly canine choir.
So far, we feel safe, valued, and very happy. So in my still rudimentary Portuguese, but from the bottom of my heart, ‘muito obrigada’ Portugal.
