Last days in Portugal

Last days in Chaves
June 19, 2009

My six weeks in Portugal are rapidly coming to an end (Duarte and the kids have another week). I have three more days in Chaves and then 3 days in Porto. As always, the last days are the best days as I’m back to fully appreciating all that I can only enjoy in this wonderful country.

We spent 2 or 3 weeks of our time here in crisis. I won’t go into detail as I think it would be impossible for anyone to understand these crisises unless you yourself took 6 weeks to live in a different culture, speaking a different language and living with your spouse’s family. You would have to deprive yourself of your friends, and of your work and sort-of of your identity. You would have to leave everything familiar for 6 weeks and speak with only your spouse the entire time. There are other factors as well – like the lack of structure in our lives, no discipline for our kids while they are with their grandparents and certainly more. Our separate crisises were quite complex and truly more than either of us yet understands. I’m not sure how we will accommodate such a trip next year. I hope that the good times are more memorable than the challenging times so that we do choose to return to Portugal for this duration again in the future. I’m not so sure.

And so I am careful to record the more special times.

• Jenna is beginning to speak Portuguese.
• The kids adore their grandparents and greet them daily with hugs and kisses.
• Watching Marcos and Filinto interact. It is really special.
• Duarte and I together enjoyed amazing mountain biking through some of the most beautiful places in the world.
• Pushing our selves in two mountain bike races and finishing really well.
• Exploring new places… Madeira, Picos de Europa and of course all of the places we found when we were lost on our mountain bikes.
• Pushing our selves physically.
• Jenna learned to ride her bike without training wheels. (Stopping is still an issue)
• We lived in a place frozen in time. We could be living in 1900 or 2009.
• We ate great food – every meal, every day. We drank great wine as well.
• Lounging in the pool on a hot day. Ooh, I love that.
• Espressos after lunch.
• Full days of bright sunshine.
• “Finos” (cold beer) on the hottest days.
• Time to talk and time to play with our kids.
• Time spent with a loving family.
• A great day in Ourense, Spain at the hot springs spa.
• Really helpful customer service when shopping.
• The earthy smells of the “terra”
• Our view of a small pasture, a mountainside village and beautiful sunsets out of our new window.
• Learning more Portuguese and attempting to speak more often.
• Listening to the church bells ring in Sao Lourenco.
• Sitting in open cafes.
• The kids ate over 100 ice creams in open cafes while they were here.
• Shopping with Jenna. It is truly a unique experience.
• Eating dinner on the patio at Quinta da Mata.
• Watching Marcos put the sheep away at night.
• Living more simply.
• Sunsets over Chaves.

I am grateful for all that I’m able to experience and enjoy while I am in Portugal. It is conflicting to even have a moment of unrest or uncertainty with so many beautiful things offered to my family and I. And yet, I do experience these feelings. I marvel at the man I married wondering how he has integrated himself so fluently into the American culture. In the end our struggles are part of the fabric of our dual nationality family. Our life here and in the United States is a complex tapestry that is outwardly beautiful but intricate and complex in its making. And thus another pattern is formed.

Picos de Europa

Picos de Europa

The Peaks of Europe are in the northern part of Spain about 4 hours from Chaves. Duarte started planning our mountain biking circumnavigation around these peaks even before we left the United States. He studied maps and blogs and google earth and whatever else he could find. As usual, I left the homework to him and decided to let the trip unfold as it was happening. And, Oh, what a trip it was!

We left Chaves mid-morning and made the trek to the Peaks of Europe. We drove through flat, treeless landscapes where we could see for miles and miles – Don Quixote terrain. And then much to our surprise we came upon steep, jagged, snow covered mountains. Lush green meadows filled with birds and animals and wild flowers filled the valleys below the mountains. The colors were so vivid the texture was so striking. In all of my travels, I have never seen such a beautiful place.

We stayed in a small, mountain village and hiked up into a high meadow with a bottle of wine and some stinky cheese. We talked and laughed and enjoyed a beautiful evening together.

The next morning we awoke early and packed our backpacks full of water, food and clothes for overnight. We hopped on our bikes to begin our adventure. The ride started with a fast and chilly descent into the mouth of an incredible canyon called the Caris.

The Caris was incredible! I was worried about feelings of vertigo as this canyon is known for its very exposed trails to high drop offs. Bikes are actually not allowed on this trail as there are no guard rails and it would be easy to knock another person off of the trail. We resolved to mostly hike the canyon and dismount where I felt uncomfortable or when we encountered other hikers. I was so amazed by the beauty of this canyon there was no room for fear. Our travels through the Caris were extraordinary!

Leaving the canyon was a different story. We climbed and climbed and climbed and climbed. 6 miles up! When we arrived to our destination for the day we were too exhausted to move. We showered and sought food but there was no food to be found until 7:00pm in this village. When we did finally eat, the food we disappointing. Spanish food is simply disgusting. Enough said.

Day 2 had its share of adventures.

We had an early morning climb up to a huge plateau filled with cattle and horses. It would be fair to say that these animals were certainly not domesticated. In fact, I wonder how many humans they have ever encountered? We were nearly assaulted by a mama horse who wanted us O.U.T. out of her domain. Duarte stopped long enough to take a picture and quickly realized his mistake. She growled at him! The problem with passing through all of these animals was that there was down hill behind us, hills on either side of us (and more animals) and hill in front of us. There was no escape. We had to pass through. We did take note of what good mothers horses seem to be. They were shading their sleeping colts and certainly guarding their well-being.

I think the most adrenaline I experience was passing a VERY large bull that was only 4 feet from our path. I stopped Duarte and said “what should we do if he charges us?” Duarte confidently said “I don’t know, but let’s go!” I nearly shook off my bike with fear. I can’t believe we made it through without incident. The bull didn’t even look our way. He was distracted by an attractive cow who passed between us.

Before we finished our time among the livestock, we had to pass 3 more bulls. Two young bulls were locking horns in the middle of our passage and to their right was their very large and aggressive father who was passing his time snorting and scraping at the dirt. I was sure he was preparing his goring of the two stupid humans trying to pass by his territory. The cattle guard was within view. We had no choice but to go. And so we did. We lived to tell the story.

After passing the cows, we enjoyed our 2nd downhill in nearly 30 miles. We ate as good of a meal as can be eaten in Spain and then carried on. Little did know what was ahead.

We climbed and climbed and climbed for three long hot hours. I thought the end would never come and was quite agitated by the time we got to the top. It was frustrating to see other mountain bikers (going in the other direction) pass us by. Their route eluded the long ascents AND the cattle.

We finished with the third and final downhill (thank god!). We biked over 100 Kilometres and I think it’s safe to say that 60 of those Kilometres were uphill. It felt good to have such an extreme adventure and to learn what are bodies were capable of physically. I didn’t know I could ride uphill for 7 hours and still walk afterwards.

Picos de Europa is a magical place. I recommend exploration by foot or by bike clockwise, however. We learned that the hard way.

Moments in a day

Moments in a day
June 8, 2009

Marcos pointed out a piece of rabbit poop and told Jenna it was chocolate. She ate it.

Jenna is mixing Portuguese and English. “I quiero that.” “Don’t tickle my cu, tickle my back.” “I want some agua.”

Marcos uses the bidet!

This morning Marcos complained that he did not like the éclair that had white cream inside of it. It has been delivered from the pastry shop just for him early in the morning before we arrived to Quinta da Mata. Geninha had a back up with yellow cream waiting for him.

Yesterday I skipped breakfast to go for a run. I thought I would just eat a few cherries instead. After my run, I sat down at the table at 11:00 a.m. to have a cup of coffee since the thermoses were still out. As soon as I sat down Dona Orlanda whipped up some scrambled eggs and delivered them to the table.

Every night after dinner, Marcos and Filinto put the sheep into the barn for the night. When the sheep are heading into the barn, Marcos calls this the “sheep highway.” He says he just stands to the side, behind the door to keep from being run over.

Filinto only changes his shirt every 3 or 4 days. He stinks and has no idea.

There is a tractor parked next to our car in the eira just outside of our steps. It has a nearly nude woman calendar page taped in the window.

I was in a salsa bar in Chaves the other night where the national Salsa dancing champions were giving salsa lessons.

Jenna has learned to ride her bike without training wheels. She is awesome!

Marcos likes to mountain bike on the dirt roads on Padrinho’s farm. We dropped him off about a mile and a half from the farm and he road home with us trailing behind in the Land Rover. As he was setting off, he said “Wish me luck!” He is great on a mountain bike.

A friend of ours was meeting us in the park today as she approached Jenna said “I don’t want to give any more kisses.”

We saw a rainbow from our window. Marcos wanted to run out and find the pot of gold. Jenna said “Yeah, and maybe there will be leopards there too!” I said “Do you mean Leprechans?” She said “Oh yeah, Leprechans.”

There was a burro in a nearby field that looked soggy and miserable from the falling rain. His ears were low and he just looked kind of droopy. Duarte commented to this effect. Marcos said “ No, Burros always kind of look like that.”

Jenna said to me “When I am big, I’m going to pee a lot like you.”

Anniversary

June 9, 2009

Today is the eighth wedding anniversary of the day Duarte and I were married in Chaves, Portugal. All day long I have been remembering that very special day.

This morning Duarte and I rode our bikes up through Nantes - which is coincidentally where the church is located where Duarte and I were married. As we were passing by, we noticed the caretaker just leaving the church. We stopped her and told her it was our wedding anniversary and asked if we could go inside the church. She happily obliged our request and she oddly even remembered that it had been eight years to the day.

Wearing our cycling clothes, Duarte and I walked into the small church and I was overwhelmed with memories from that exquisite day. I could see my family sitting on the left side of the chapel…my mom in her blue suit, my grandmother and grandfather, my uncles with tears in their eyes. On Duarte’s side, many relatives I didn’t yet know but who have since become a part of lives when we are here in Portugal. My father accompanied me down the aisle. Because we hadn’t had any kind of rehearsal – I I didn't know when to start down the aisle. There was a string quartet playing Pachobel’s Canon and the flowers my mom and I had chosen filled the chapel. I remember walking too quickly into the church but nothing I could do could slow me down. Duarte waited for me up front – wiping tears from his eyes. I felt beautiful in my dress and Duarte was so handsome. I remember little of the ceremony as it was completely in Portuguese but I remember my feelings of pride and hope and exhilaration and of course assuredness.

We left the chapel and continued our mountain bike ascent together up over Nantes and over Chaves. Our ride gave me time to think about Duarte and I. It has been quite a journey since that ceremony eight years ago. We have two beautiful, spirited children. We have encountered ups and downs neither of us could have ever anticipated. We enjoy a steady, strong marriage that continues to grow and blossom. Riding together and enjoying each other still is a beautiful gift which I need never to take for granted. I most certainly have a full and abundant life and this is because of the incredible man I married eight (or nine ☺) years ago today.

Feira

Feira

Wednesday morning is the day of Feira in Chaves. This is my favorite day of the week because of all of hustle and bustle going on in town. As I have mentioned before EVERYONE puts on their nice clothes and heads in to town to buy food, seeds, animals, plants, clothes, etc. Filinto, Marcos, Jenna and I decided to join the crowd.

We woke up early, enjoyed a grand breakfast as always and drove into Chaves among every make of vehicle known to man. Filinto first took us to the animal trading area – which I have learned to despise as I think the animals are not treated with care. We didn’t stay long as the kids eyes grew big and teary within minutes of being there. Before leaving, Filinto bought a handmade leather collar with a handmade metal bell for his ram whom Marcos named Oliver. It was awesome to watch the craftsman work.

I love the gypsy section of Feira. It’s a little sketchy, very loud and fascinating. I like bargaining and buying cheap socks and underwear. Filinto was visibly uncomfortable at this part of Feira as were the kids but we didn’t leave before I purchased 10 pairs of underwear and 10 pairs of socks for Marcos. We ran into lots of people Filinto knew while we were there. Over and over again we all had to endure wet, cheek kisses from bristly, mustached old women. Yuck.

As we were walking away from the gypsy market, I noticed a “sports” section of Feira with lots of Portuguese soccer jerseys. Marcos loves this kind of thing so we stopped. Filinto insisted that he wanted to buy Jenna a mini skirt that said “Portugal” on the back. I insisted that she would wear no such thing. If he wanted to buy her something it should be a soccer uniform. He reluctantly agreed though the gypsies weren’t so sure. They continued to insist on the skirt. “No!” I said – “a uniform”. Well, within moments Jenna was clad in an oversized white Jersey and shorts. And what Jenna has, Marcos must also have. The two of them were identical and so incredibly cute, I couldn’t keep myself from laughing. There were Portuguese women clucking over Jenna and trying to get her into the skirt – which of course, didn’t happen. Marcos and Jenna walked proudly through Feira in their matching uniforms. It was great!

Our last stop was in the rabbit, duck and chicken section. Filinto had it in his mind that he would buy a male and female rabbit for the kids. I was nervous about this as I overheard a phone conversation earlier from a client who was ordering a dinner of rabbit for his arrival next week. The kids, however, were delighted to have their bunnies. Immediately, they were named “Zach” and “Princess flower.” I mentioned to Marcos that they should probably be called “Lunch” and “Dinner” but Marcos firmly disagreed. The kids enjoyed the afternoon with their bunnies and then put them in a rabbit cage and they have been feeding them. So far the bunnies are still with us. We’ll see what happens when that client arrives next week.

I was anxious to see Duarte’s reaction to the kids in their soccer uniforms. It was perfect. Marcos and Jenna went running into where Duarte was working and proudly showed him their new clothes. Duarte’s jaw dropped and he declared “I cannot believe it” and then said “Where did you find jerseys that say “Portugalc?” Portugalc? I hadn’t noticed that… Sure enough- the gypsies messed up and now we have two complet uniforms with “Portugalc” printed widely across the back for everyone to see. The kids don’t mind though and the uniforms were a part of their imaginative adventures for the remainder of the day.

Alone?

Ahhh. A moment to myself - which rarely seems to happen while we are in Portugal. Our interaction with Duarte’s family is so intense that we are with them from morning until night. This isn’t necessarily bad but I do feel like I’m “on” all of the time. I feel like I don’t have a place just to be me. In the United States our lives are busy and full but there are segments of time when individually we can get away. Even when I am working I am on my own. I am an autonomous woman in the United States. Living in a different country and living with Duarte’s family leaves me feeling overly dependent. There is so much that I miss and so much that I just don’t know. Adapting to another culture is not easy at all. A simple drive alone to the grocery store is stressful for me as I don’t know what the traffic signs mean or I don’t know to weigh the bananas before I get to the check out line – and so I am always accompanied by someone. Duarte must interpret everything.

After 10 days away, we have returned to an arid Chaves. The kids are in bed and Duarte is out with Lipe. I’m enjoying the night air on the front step of our village house. The sky is bright with color as the sun sets and the heat from the day is radiating from the granite street and granite walls. There is a gentle breeze. Voices from nearby houses fill the air as all the doors and windows are open allowing the night air to cool their warm houses.

I sit with a glass of wine. I take a deep breath. I take time to appreciate this beautiful world full of life around me. I can’t help but note the collision of cultures as I sit here with my computer while those around me have just put their plow horses away for the night. There is no cable up here. No satellite tv, no internet. There is a village phone that is located in someone’s house in the center of Sao Lourenco. I’m certainly out of place here – but so grateful to be in this place because this moment is mine alone.

And I’m glad I made note of it because now I see headlights shining on the house in front of ours and I hear the Land Rover’s engine. And once again, I’m no longer alone.

Some differences

Vila Nova de Milfontes
May 31, 2009

We’ve been travelling for a week and a half now. First Madeira without the kids and now Vila Nova Milfontes for the last week. Vila Nova Milfontes is a small, oceanside village in the south of Portugal. It is known for really good surf, good fishing, and of course good sun bathing. There are many beaches to choose from on any given day. One can choose a remote beach hidden between high cliffs or wide open, white sand beaches with aquamarine waters. There are so many beaches that it is easy to escape a crowd and enjoy a whole sweep of beach all to ourselves.

It has been a calm and relaxing week full of sunshine, sand and water play. After a weekend away from our kids, in Madeira we’ve been enjoying Marcos and Jenna’s energy and full days of playing in the sand. We’ve travelled to a different beach with each day we have been here. We’ve eaten a great variety of meals for better of for worse. I look forward to not feeling full at any given moment. Lipe was with us until Friday. We’ve been with Geninha and Filinto the entire time. We’ve enjoyed our time together and their love and attention to our kids but I’m pretty sure we mutually agree that it’s time for some distance. We’ll head back to Chaves tomorrow. I need to be back in our space with our stuff and with our own pace.

Portugal becomes less and less and more and more a mystery every time I visit. I’m fascinated by the vast differences in our cultures. Some of the things I’ve been noticing:

Lots of public displays of affection. Teenagers, adults – any place, any time are going at it… passionate kisses, loving caresses, tender embraces. Love is in the air in Portugal. Duarte has always been very affectionate – especially in the early days of our relationship. Being American and being conservative about public displays of affection I have curbed his open affection over the years…. Now I realize it is a part of his upbringing. Even with family members, Portuguese family members hold hands, hug, kiss, play with each other’s hair, etc. This is very different from my affectionless upbringing. I love that our kids are learning about affection and open love. Why hide it?

Portuguese are always late.

Portuguese cannot say goodbye.

Fashion matters way too much – but the fashion is sooo ugly from my American viewpoint.

A good cup of espresso completes a meal.

Wine is a staple of this culture. It is served at lunch and dinner and it is good!

I can’t figure out the two kisses thing. Who do I give two kisses to? Whom do
I just shake hands? Greetings are terribly awkward.

Portuguese sleep late, eat late and go to bed late. I’ve been out until 2:00 a.m. on many occasions since we have arrived and honestly it seems early when we finally turn in! Just the other night, we purchased a used surfboard from a classified ad at 1:00a.m. It was the seller’s idea! We then went out for drinks afterwards.

Food is plentiful – to a fault. I’m tired of food. Really tired of food. We’ve been eating in restaurants since we left Chaves and I have an opinion about how the Portuguese eat. The quality of the food is always extraordinary. Food is simply prepared with olive oil, salt, garlic and piri piri and it is ALWAYS delicious and ALWAYS abundant. As much as I enjoy the incredible food, I’m tired of the waste. The portions are huge and could easily be split between two or three people. After eating a big meal, we leave enough food on the table to feed two or three people. Taking food with you is unheard of unless you are truly taking food to feed your dog. Even then, take away boxes are hard to come by. Portuguese do eat well but I’m so full I could be happy not eating for the next week.

Enough for now. My affectionate husband awaits with a bottle of port and dessert. Go figure. I had a cup of espresso only minutes ago and it is now 11:00pm. I’m still dizzy and uncomfortably full from our huge fish dinner accompanied by local wine. I’m dressed in my fashionless American clothes and am eager to get into my ugly comfy pajamas but who knows if we’ll be out later or not. I’d like to stop writing but feel I can’t or I might offend. So… two kisses or a hand shake or simply a “prazer” I don’t know……………………I don’t know! Boa Noite???!!