Goodbye and thank you for all the fish

A tribute to my lit professor, of which the following are my favorite quotes and Portuguese expressions he taught us. I apologize for botching the translations

"Time is the best teacher. The problem is it kills all the students. (Or possibly boredom kills all the students.)"

"The Portuguese excuse for everything is 'I'm working.'"
"I'm working so it's cool that I park my car in the middle of the road!"

"O dificil faz-se ja. O impossivel liva um pouco mais tempo."
The difficult is already done. The impossible takes a little longer. (I couldn't read my own handwriting on this one so I have no idea if it's right...sorry Abel)

"Brazil is a boy. Portugal is an old man."

"I'm tired. Why do we have to have class?"

"This is a very Portuguese saying. Better to rely on God-given talents than to be a hard worker."

"You can't teach a donkey new languages."

And my personal favorite..."Goodbye and thank you for all the fish"

Then Sarah knocked over three water bottles

Last night I went to a fado club to hear traditional Portuguese fado music. The best way I can describe it is Portuguese blues, but the term that the Portuguese use is saudades. This is also really difficult to describe. From what I understand, it encompasses a certain nostalgia and heartache and has no equivalent term in English. The Iberian Music class professor organized the trip and graciously invited the rest of the CIEE students along and since I hadn't been yet, and I really had no desire to write papers, I decided to go.

It was a really wonderful evening. The place we had originally been headed to was closed so after dodging an overly eager woman who wanted us to go to her fado club, and stalked us through Bairro Alto while popping bubble wrap (just plain weird...) we ended up inside a very traditional fado house where we were, at the early hour of 9 pm, the only customers. Lucky for them it was a CIEE-sponsored event so we feasted and brought in more than enough dinheiro to pay for their evening. One of the things I really love about Portugal during the holiday season is that everybody here goes nuts for Christmas decorating. It's a fairly Catholic country although most of the Portuguese people I've met are non-practicing but Lisbon goes all out in the blinking light department. Everywhere you go has at least some kind of decoration. Whereas in the US it gets pretty obnoxious (see my next-door neighbors, whose reindeer farm could power a small island) the decor here involves lots of lights strung everywhere and "Boas Festas!" signs. It's also relatively uncommercialized in most places, if that's even the right word I'm looking for and it probably isn't. What I mean is this. At the fado club there were strings of lights on the wall but they didn't look like they'd been strung by a professional lighting team. There was a golden-bellied Santa statue and some shooting star lights on the wall and a couple of strings of lights that had been taped up using clear packing tape. I guess I just like that it's authentic and intimate rather than mass-produced. That could also be a byproduct of being in a local, family-owned traditional fado house. There were lots of people coming and going all night but they all knew each other and/or were related. And you can imagine my surprise when, after the first round of singing by two men concluded, our waiter came to the front and burst out in sorrowful singing. And then the owner. And then the wife. At one point a set of young parents with twin toddlers came in and I was half-expecting the little girls to burst out in song. I think they were related to one of the cooks because a man came out that we hadn't seen yet and scooped up the girls into his arms while the 'rents chatted with the singers and the owner and the waiter. It felt like a scene out of a movie the way they all knew each other. The music was interesting, although I think i would've felt more moved by it if I had understood all the words. The emotion, however, was very tangible. The Portuguese people in the room all looked so sad and while I didn't feel blue, I definitely felt the music in my heart and started dwelling on how painful it is going to be to say goodbye to Lisbon.

On a side note, I ate the most delicious grilled salmon I've ever had in my life. I'm not a huge fish eater in this country partly because they love codfish, they don't love sauces, and I never know what I'm ordering. But I felt the urge to eat fish one more time before leaving so I went with that impulse and it paid off beautifully. I was so full I couldn't even finish my chocolate mousse (a rare occurrence!)

Then, in a moment so fully representative of my experience in Lisbon, the restaurant did not accept credit cards. And we had a 300euro bill. The moment definitely called for laughing although we did have to be serious long enough to pool enough cash to avoid dish washing. Yet, it totally fit the traditional Portuguese evening. In the words of one of my classmates, the great thing about Portugal is that its very informal, unstructured, and nobody seems to be able to explain why but it works.

I wish I could say the same about all of my final papers that I'm trying to finish. For some reason, they are not working even though I am. In other news, today at school there was an impromptu choir concert in the foyer of the main building. It was actually pretty cool except that they had set up in a semicircular formation in front of the cantina so to get to lunch, you had to go back outside and use the exterior staircase to go up to the first floor, go inside and then go back downstairs. Also, there are cats that run around the university campus and they were all inside today so I spent lunch watching them dart around, pondering the fact that in the U.S. I don't think health regulations would allow stray cats to be wandering through the dining hall.

There's also a serious health problem going on with the pigeons. Ok, one pigeon. There's one pigeon that we see nearly every day when we have breakfast on the patio on campus that looks like it's suffering from a drug problem. We call him the crack pigeon which I guess isn't really that funny except that he really is just the ugliest bird in the history of the universe. He also has slow reflexes so when you shoo him away, he doesn't really leave. Oh, cats and crack pigeon, I'm going to miss you! I could write an ode in honor of my poetry paper due this week but I don't have time. Or rather, I choose to spend that free time writing blog posts instead of poems and papers etc. Or packing. At some point in the next 2 1/2 days, I have to pack. We'll see how that goes.

TCHAU

Can you pass the joy, por favor?

Today was an intense day. I had a final this afternoon that I didn't feel prepared for so that was sort of hanging over me all day. And yesterday I had a final that prevented me from studying all day for today's test and you get the idea. This morning we had a festa with all of the Americans (all 11 of us) in Portuguese. We combined the beginner and advanced classes and ate chocolate salami (no meat involved) pastel de nata and sandwiches and quickly relapsed into speaking English. After the festa in my literature class my professor, who had professed last week that we shouldn't skip class Tuesday because he had a surprise for us, gave us all organic bourbon vanilla chocolate from this specialty shop downtown and it was muito delicious. It gave me a much needed energy boost to go to the flea market and do some souvenir hunting. I was supposed to go Saturday morning but the pouring rain and gusting wind made the outdoor market a less appealing option than staying in my PJs and going back to sleep.

I scored big at the flea market and this one couple liked me so much they gave me a free vintage shot glass that has a picture of birds and flying plums on it. Exactly when plums learned to fly is beyond me but it was another great example of Portuguese people being extremely nice and so receptive to my mangling of the Portuguese language.

No electrico (on the tram) on the way back, two men started yelling at each other in Portuguese and one of them stood up looking like he was about to hit the other man, who was very old, and the tram driver stopped the tram in the middle of the street and jumped up to break up the potential fight. I unfortunately have no idea what they were yelling about but everybody on the tram got very involved and this one woman, who I had thought was crazy because she was talking to herself the entire time, stands up and makes some gesture at the men, grabs her friend from the front of the tram and gets off. I realized that she wasn't talking to herself the whole time but I was really confused because we were sitting at the back of the tram and her friend was at the front but her voice wasn't any louder than a normal face-to-face conversation. Muito bizarre. Then I studied and went to take my test and now I feel a huge sense of relief that I have only two papers left to write and then I'm finished with all my work.

Why do I bother writing this? First, because the incident on the tram was hilarious/frightening. Second, because yesterday my Brazilian friends left and I was extremely sad all day so it was nice today to be back in some kind of a routine even though the dorm is unspeakably lonely without my group. To remedy this, we are going to a fado club tonight. Fado is traditional Portuguese music and it's very intense. It's the one really touristy thing I figured I would do here that I haven't done yet so the last week seems like as good a time as any to squeeze it in. I have just three days left and then Saturday morning I fly home. It's an occasion that feels like it calls for some kind of final blog post or something but I just don't think I have it in me. And I think I'd rather spend the time walking around the city visiting my favorite places and soaking up as much of the Portuguese sun as possible before heading home.

So if I don't make it back to Portublog before I make it back to the states, boas festas and thanks for letting me share my experiences.

OH! And before I forget...a neat little discovery. The really big expensive grocery store near my dorm has a whole fresh cheese section that I only recently began indulging in because of expense and overwhelming pastry addiction. Yesterday I couldn't decide what kind of cheese to get and that's when I discovered dun dun dun......a cheese sampler!! Instead of a whole wheel or a half wheel of one kind of cheese, I got smaller half-wheels of four different kinds, all still individually wrapped so I can enjoy them separately and cut them myself and everything! And that's when I realized that I felt extremely uncultured because I couldn't figure out how I was supposed to cut some of them with my Chinese store butter knife. A discovery that would've been great to make three months ago but a great one nonetheless.

Tchau tchau os meus amigos! Ate logo (literally)

What do cow print, chandeliers and the solar system have in common?

Well, it seems that I fail at blogging because I am now officially three weeks behind. Yikes! So much has happened over the past few weeks and I so want to do it justice but I simply do not have time because finals are upon me and the next two weeks are going to be full of nothing but papers and tests. All of that on top of trying to get souvenirs, pack and say the sad goodbyes that are inevitably coming no matter how much I try to slow down time. B-L-A-H. I'm procrastinating as it is just to write this.

Here is the briefest of briefs to recap the past three weekends:

1. Surf trip to Peniche, Portugal. A beautiful and relatively secluded beach in a pretty, simple beach town with a big group of friends. We drove out there which was great because I got to see a different part of the countryside than I would've on a train, which to this point is the only way I've traveled around the country. I was half terrified, half excited about the surf lessons. Terrified, because who willingly runs into the Atlantic Ocean in November?! Excited for obvious reasons. The lesson was a great success. I got up on the first try (and then promptly fell over) and managed to actually ride a few waves before frostbite kicked in and I realized that the wetsuit I was wearing was wet. i.e., freezing. I want to say more, but time is ticking. A fantastic weekend. I took the bus back to Lisbon because I wanted to get back Saturday night and that, too, was actually pretty amazing. Again, seeing a different part of the country in a different way. In a truly Portuguese fashion, the bus station was closed, even though the bus was scheduled, so I had to get off at the next station and purchase a ticket. I wouldn't mind going back to that beach or taking more surf lessons. Both were great. The fact that they were in the same day is just beyond words.

2. The Holy Seat. ROMA! I went to Rome for Thanksgiving weekend, which was a long weekend for me because the Monday after was a Portuguese national holiday. It was great to travel, be with family (Hi Daniel, Aunt Nancy and Uncle Mark!!) see a beautiful city full of famous landmarks and eat gelato. I was bummed about not getting to see the Pope BUT I did get a different kind of holy experience. After a cold, rainy afternoon walking around Rome (seeing the Ecstasy of St. Theresa, among other things!) we stopped in a beautiful Gothic church. I needed to use the bathroom so I asked a monk (selling postcards, no less) and he said in Italian that I needed a key. So Aunt Nancy helped me ask for the key and he sort of sighed and then reached under the table for a huge key ring and then beckoned for me to follow. I trotted along behind him into a side hallway, where he unlocked an iron gate, beyond which was a darkened chapel leading off to other chapels. Turns out it was the sacristry. There was a long row of huge wooden confessional-looking booths along the side of the room, so you can imagine my surprise when he crosses the chapel and starts fiddling with the key at one of the booths.

No worries. This pit stop did not require confession. The door actually led to a stone hallway behind the sacristry where I finally found the bathroom. There were buckets of roses on the stairs and the monk turned around and left me in peace. I was a little surprised at the complete and total abandonment in this clearly off-limit area of the church and was even more surprised when I went back into the sacristry and all the lights were off and the gate was closed. Uh oh. Luckily, he had cracked the gate a tiny bit so I could get out and then I hurried back into the church where my aunt and uncle are bursting with laughter as I come out with what could've only been a seriously surprised and confused look on my face. I guess you have to See it to believe it.

3. ESPANHA! This past weekend, another long weekend, I went with my friends to Salamanca and Madrid, Spain. Another fantastic weekend that again deserves way more blog time than I can give it. I was really excited to realize that my Portuguese this semester really paid off because I could understand and actually speak a little Spanish. Sad that I had to go to Spain to realize I could speak Portuguese, but still, better late than never. We discovered a sandwich chain called "100 Montaditos" a sandwich shop that offers 100 different montaditos, small baguette style sandwiches. Sarah and I ate there three times because it was just THAT GOOD. I could probably rant about food all day because we ate so well but I will content myself with saying that while Rome was amazing from a historical point of view and I got to be with family, especially for Thanksgiving, traveling with friends was a completely different and wonderful experience. I laughed to the point of tears, danced in the country's biggest club, got lost, feasted on churros, laughed, laughed, and laughed some more, surrounded by the people who had really made this semester what it has been. It was a really amazing way to cap off the most incredible semester. My brazilian friends leave this weekend and I leave the next so it was really special to have a long weekend away together. Also, everybody had told me before the trip that I should go to Barcelona instead of Madrid so I didn't have super high expectations. But if you want my recommendation, Madrid is a fantastic city and the people are, for the most part, wonderful. And now for one story, very different from the holy toilet tale: In Lisbon if you're looking for nightlife you go to Bairro Alto and wander from bar to bar listening to music, meeting people, etc. It's a very street-oriented culture. In Madrid, you still wander around a lot on the street but since the streets are wider, it's less stand-around-outside and more wander from place to place; it's destination-oriented. So to get you to come inside, the bars station employees outside on the street to talk to people and engage them in conversation and eventually convince them to visit the bar and then lead them to said bar and get them in without paying a cover charge. Since I was with spanish-speakers, this was easily done and we were able to get into bars and clubs for free. One of the places we went had bright orange walls with cow print accent walls, glass chandeliers and plasma TV screens playing pictures of the solar system.

The solar system and cow print.

I don't know what else to say other than it's been an exhausting three weeks but I wouldn't trade any of it for more sleep or more free time because it's been exciting, fantastic and so much fun. Time to buckle down for finals and somehow find it in me to focus and go to class instead of enjoying the beautiful sunshine that we STILL have even though it's December and it's raining across the rest of Europe.

TCHAU!


No time to rotate, sorry!



The answer, before I even ask the rhetorical question, is "No, it doesn't get any better than this."

Onde e o Papa?

I am so busy I should not be allowed anywhere near the internet, but I have neglected o Portublogo for just a bit too long so I am writing...really only to say that I don't have time to write right now.

If you would like to help me write one of my papers or sit in for an exam, I will gladly update my blog. Otherwise, be content with the tiny update that I went to Rome this past weekend for Thanksgiving and the Pope stood me up for our gelato date.

How rude. Be back sometime soon, hopefully. If not, it is only three weeks until I return to my home continent, as my parents and my calendar seem to constantly remind me. No time to dwell on that though. I have to work, work, work so I have time to enjoy, enjoy, enjoy. Tchau! Don't let the winter weather get you down.

Queluz? No, QueLOST.

As these things sometimes happen, I sort of accidentally went to the wrong town for my art history visit on Friday.

It was an honest mistake, really. We had been talking about visiting Queluz for a few weeks and then my professor switched the visit the week before. With no email reminder, and no working computer with which to check said nonexistent email reminder, I sort of just forgot we were going to Oeiras and went to Queluz instead. Whoops.

Annina, Sarah, Rene and I wandered through the town, enjoying yet another indescribably beautiful day. The town's main feature is a large Baroque palace nestled at the foot of an undeveloped hill, which basically means that when you stand in front of the palace and look out to the left, you honestly feel like you have been transported into a different century. When we first got off the train, we hopped into a pastelaria to ask for directions to the palace and, surprisingly, did not stop for a pastry. I did see a small sign in the window for "pasteis de cervejas," or "beer pastries." Intriguing, but I found it amazingly easy to pass up that particular opportunity. The instructions we received were "walk past the rotary and then pass 3 more." What he really meant was walk past 4 rotaries and then keep walking down the long tree-lined boulevard, past the old men in their boinas sitting on the ledge until you come into a large empty cobblestoned square and you'll eventually see it, as it's impossible to miss. And it wa. Even though a few times we thought we were probably going the wrong direction, it wasn't until we eventually arrived at the palace that we figured out we were in the wrong town. The first clue was that no one else from our class was there even though we were 20 minutes late. The second clue was when we opened Sarah's notebook and saw the note about going to Oeiras. And the final clue was when we called our professor and explained that we were in Queluz and she said "oh, well you should be in Oeiras."

These incredible detective skills are just one of the many talents I've picked up in Portugal.

After realizing that finding the bus to Oeiras and getting there would consume the better part of an hour, we decided to stay in Queluz. After all, there is a palace there, too. We wandered around the main (empty) square in front of the palace and waltzed into a cafe for a little afternoon caffeine boost. The cafe was decorated in velvet zebra print on the outside, i.e., a complete and utter clash with the baroque palace looming behind us. Sunshine mandated that we sit outdoors and we spent the next twenty minutes squinting, partly at my IceTea which came in a glass with ice. Crazy. We went back to the palace and the lady behind the desk in the ticket office gave us the "Are you back to ask more ridiculous questions about a palace that is not in this city and a teacher that isn't here?" look but we got the last laugh because the tickets were free since we are os estudantes.

I knew a tiny bit about Queluz before we went, mainly that it is the Portuguese attempt at Versailles. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting but what I saw was amazing.



I've never been to Versailles, but this was gorgeous. Notables: Almost every room had a different chandelier, many of which were quite extravagant. Most ceilings were painted, too. The only room entirely covered in azulejos is a room that I don't think even has a proper name. The sign said that the room was used as a storage space for the glass tubes that protected candles from draughts.

An entire room for glass candle coverings. Wow.

The other reason Queluz is so famous in Portugal is its beautiful gardens. Only a small portion of the gardens are currently open to the public, which is why our field trip was switched in the first place, but the part that is open is stunning. Pictures cannot accurately convey but I'll attempt anyways because words fail me. You get one:

Ok, two:


And finally, one more note on the palace for which I do, thankfully have words: as we wandered through pretending to be art history students (standing back from a painting or tiled wall or piece of furniture and looking thoughtful) and discussed the various Rococo and Baroque and Neoclassic elements etc., we skirted around groups of school children on a field trip. We wandered through one room and lo and behold, there is a man in a powder wig and tights plucking at some kind of instrument. Again, what century is this?! Giggling and asking in Portuguese if we're allowed to take pictures, we skip through to the next room, a royal receiving room where even more of the anomalous 18th century nobles are dancing as part of a performance for the little Portuguese kiddos. We plopped down on the floor with the school groups and stifled our laughter and amazement as yet another little unexpected moment completely made my afternoon. I've seen plenty of reenactments in museums before, but for whatever reason these actors seemed to add to the authenticity of the scene rather than seriously detract from it.

After making our way through the palace and the gardens, we attempted a different route, through the town rather than around it, to get back to the train station. Even in the main part of town, Queluz is a quiet, intimate place. The locals were incredibly friendly, smiling and waving on the street and not hesitating to help us when we asked for directions. A town right out of a fairy tale. We stopped for hot popcorn and hot castanhos (roasted chestnuts) from street vendors, making friends along the way. The Portuguese are just so friendly. It's wonderful to feel welcomed.


Queluz was one of the better mistakes I've made while I've been here. We get lost all the time on our way to art history visits and we do get to see a lot of the city that way. But there was something about ending up in Queluz on a gorgeous quiet Friday afternoon that just made it special. Maybe it was the sense of freedom that the weekend brings, or the guys in the car that thought we were taking pictures of them so they started waving, or the lush green rolling hills rising gently above the pink palace...it was so utterly peaceful and relaxed. A truly wonderful afternoon.

Before I move on to the rest of my weekend, I have to backtrack to embellish my descriptions of the Palace of Ajuda, if only because it was the coming out party of my newly repaired camera and my return to being trigger-happy. Interesting trivia: After the earthquake, King Jose was terrified to sleep in a stone building so he moved the entire court to a royal complex at Ajuda where they all lived in tents. For a time, the Portuguese monarchy lived in and operated from a set of tents and a single coach where the Marques de Pombal organized the rebuilding of the city. This strikes me as so utterly Portuguese. Running a country from a tent in the wake of major disaster... They were all about business; they didn't waste time building a palace first and then building the city. Yet a tent is such a temporary structure and is completely incompatible with the grand palaces of 18th century Europe. How contradictory, and how perfectly Portuguese.

Anyways, Ajuda was originally supposed to be even bigger than it actually is but they ran out of money to complete it. And when I say ran out of money, they literally ran dry and just stopped wherever they were.





(Oops)


And the library. You can tell I'm sneaking this picture because I was half-hiding the camera behind the bookshelf in the bottom of the frame.

One final thought: when I went to drop off my computer the other day I was so excited to have discovered the bus that goes directly to the front door of the computer repair shop that I didn't even pay attention to which direction the bus was going until after I ended up on an unfamiliar highway. After getting off the highway, the street curved and the side of the highway was covered in a 15m high rainbow of azulejos. Stunning. Even the highways are covered in tiles here. I don't think I could ever get sick of little surprises like this. Every single day is full of them and it's one of the many, many things I love about living in Lisbon.

Oh, and it's Christmastime in the city. The malls are completely decked out for the holidays without Thanksgiving to discourage them from starting in November. (Actually, the department store near my dorm started decorating in October but that's another post for another time)


The closest thing to snow this city ever experiences, considering that the day I took this picture in mid-November it was 21 degrees Celsius. (approximately 69 degrees Fahrenheit)

TCHAU!

TexMex...sort of.

I am a full week behind in posting so it's back to bullet form:

• Sunday afternoon, in a celebration of my new freedom after 2 terribly busy weeks, I went to the Gulbenkian garden to read. I sat in the grass and eventually took off my shoes, digging my toes into the cool carpet beneath my feet. I took off my sweater, getting some sun on my bare arms, and I munched on a pear while I wished my sunglasses weren't broken. Did I mention it's November? I think it got up to somewhere in the 70s that afternoon, hotter in the sun. I was so grateful for not having to stay inside and work, no matter how short-lived that respite would be. It's a sin to pass up such beautiful fall weather.
  
• Sunday was my roommate's birthday so after convincing her not to buy her own birthday cake, we took her to dinner and threw her a surprise party. We went to a Mexican restaurant in Belem overlooking the river. It was dark, and I was amazed to see that even on the edge of the river, there aren't a whole lot of lights along the banks. It felt very peaceful; still in the city, yet removed from the hustle and bustle. My first fajitas in 3 months were not quite up to TexMex par, but they were still delicious. You could definitely tell that it was Mexican food being cooked in Portugal: the beef was decidedly unmarinated. The Portuguese don't really believe in sauces or flavoring when it comes to carne...Despite the obvious differences, the food was really good and it was a nice taste of home. Guacamole tastes that much better when you haven't had it in months. Our waiter was Brazilian and I got really excited when I could distinguish the different accent. Ana taught us how to make cat ears out of napkins so that's how we passed most of the night when we weren't eating or singing happy birthday. Upon return to the dorm we hurried to blow up the balloons and light the candles without Tati noticing and then we told her to come to the study room where we blew whistles and woke up most of the 2nd floor. Whoops.
  
• Monday evening we went to a reception at City Hall for International Students Day. The room in which the reception was being held was super fancy, a Baroque bubble in downtown. Red velvet curtains sweeping 30ft down from the ceiling, which was painted and gilded with portraits of famous lisboetas, marble columns, chandeliers...although the mayor spoke mostly Portuguese, he did address us briefly in English. After that, Sarah and I retreated through the crowd to get some air in the foyer, whose ceiling is painted to look like it's carved. That's when we found the food. Normally, when I think "reception," I think non-messy finger food like cheese and crackers, generic chocolate chip cookies and soft drinks, maybe fruit juice. Apparently when the Portuguese think student reception, they think port wine and savoury pastries. If I ate shrimp, I could've made a meal out of this reception. The fancy room opened up to a balcony overlooking the square in front of City Hall, where my friends spent much of the evening looking at the stars and enjoying ourselves. Then a DJ started playing in the big room so we hopped back inside to dance. It was pretty cool showing up to what I thought would be a generic reception and staying to dance. Apparently Lisbon really wants to show its international students a good time. I don't have the vocabulary to tell the mayor that he really doesn't have to put on a reception for us to enjoy this beautiful city.
  
• Wednesday we went to the Palacio de Ajuda for my art history class. It's a massive neoclassic palace built after the earthquake with one of the most complex and beautiful entryways. The entry is a set of 2 round statue galleries, full of statues personifying the qualities of the king. In my opinion, it was a bit vain and contradictory, decorating your palace with statues claiming your humility and generosity to the people, while you build yourself a massive palace. The interior has been completely modernized to house the Ministry of Cultural Affairs, but the library is intact. The two stories are stacked floor to ceiling with books in peeling covers. To access the higher shelves you have to climb a rickety 15ft ladder. One of the librarians was wearing a white lab coat and brushing the pages of an extremely large, old volume. The paper crinkled as she steadily turned page after page, looking for stray eyelashes and dust. It literally felt like walking into another century. My professor gave me the "I'm disappointed that you'd be so crass as to take pictures in such a sacred place" look, but I snuck in a few anyways. I had just gotten my camera back less than 24 hours before. After a month of not being able to take pictures, I wasn't about to pass up such a beautiful place. (When I get my computer back I will post said pictures so you can fully understand the fairy tale quality of this library)
• I used the Gulbenkian library for the first time this week. Talk about complicated. It's free to get a library card but the online registration is entirely in Portuguese so it took a few minutes. After filling out the form on the computer, you go into the library itself and into this tiny Reference office. There, you sit with one of the librarians, for lack of a better word, where they go over your registration form and print you off your library card. Once you have your library card, you go back to the computer room, where you scan in your barcode and type in a password. Then you can search. Once a list comes up with your hits, you click on each individual link to see if it's what you need. If it is, you click another link which takes you to another page that says "are you sure you want this item?" You click yes, and a little machine prints off a receipt with a number on it. Then you wait for that number to be called up on the screens around the room and only then can you finally retrieve your materials. I can understand the desire to not have students browsing through the collections making a mess of things, but it's a whole lot of procedure. The library has huge windows looking out onto the garden. On the one hand, it's nice that I can still enjoy the beautiful day from inside. On the other hand, it's torture to have to be inside researching while such a beautiful day beckons from the outside. I guess I can't complain too much. It's November and warm enough for short sleeves.

My computer is waiting to be picked up at the repair shop so once I pick it up tomorrow, I will have both my camera and my computer and I promise I will post some pictures of the weather I can't help but brag about. Until then, tchau!

The most important fire dancers in Tomar

After our adventurous Thursday evening, our sleep deprived Friday morning left much to be desired. We stumbled to school in a caffeine-less daze to catch the bus to Tomar for a field trip with our Portuguese class. Just for fun, I have decided to do this post in acrostic form. Sorry for making you endure my lameness.

Templar castle
Ohmygosh is it lunchtime yet? Oh. It's cantina food.
Medieval synagogue and museums that nobody understands
As ruas mais importantes em Tomar
Ravage pastry shop, return to Lisbon

There are 4 Portuguese classes between the Americans and the Erasmus students so the field trip comprised a wide variety of students that I've never met before. The trip was optional (thank you CIEE for paying!) so that produced an even wider variety of students, mainly those who are able to wake up at 8 on a Friday morning for a whole day of touring. It was an utterly brilliant day, the sky the deepest shade of blue and the air crisp and cool as any perfect fall morning should be. Our trip on the highway, instead of the train, gave me a cool new perspective on the surroundings of Lisbon and the Portuguese countryside. It's amazing to watch the scenery change from distinctly urban and industrial to more rural, less dense and more natural. I don't think I'll ever get sick of seeing the country fly by through the window.

Our first stop was the Templar castle and the Convento do Cristo. The castle is remarkably well-preserved and even the archer slits are carved in the shape of the Templar cross. The municipal part of the convent is in ruins but everything else, including the aqueduct, is well-preserved. The church itself is sheathed in gold and painting. The exterior of the church has a famous window, carved to represent Portuguese exploration, God's glory and Portugal's relationship to the sea. Our guide spoke Portuguese and only translated when we asked so it was a great opportunity to practice. I was really surprised when I realized I actually understood what she was talking about. My ability to translate faded a bit as the 4 hours of sleep kicked in but it was still nice to feel competent. The grounds bursted with citrus trees, the oranges looking so promising. Daniel informed me that the lemon tree originated in Portugal. I don't know if that's true but once he told me I noticed that there really is an abundance of citrus trees here. Beautiful.

In true Portuguese fashion, we didn't leave for lunch until almost an hour after we were supposed to be there. Whoops. Tomar has a Polytechnic university so we ate cantina food there. It was kind of neat to experience a different university and a different cantina, even just to experience a little slice of regular life outside of Lisbon. Downside: cantina food is the same just about everywhere thanks to government subsidies. This cantina has a pastelaria built in, so we were able to replace our chemical pudding with Magnum bars.

After lunch, as we were nearly 2 hours behind schedule, our professors sat on the patio drinking coffee while we all sat out and enjoyed the beautiful day. We eventually managed to leave and we headed for the Tomar synagogue, a medieval synagogue that had once been one of the most important in the entire country. The original building still exists although the interior, sadly, has been mostly plastered over the preserve it. I'm all for preserving, but it sort of ruined the effect. The stone pillars in the center of the tiny building were the only exposed original stone. Oh well. The man who gave us our "tour" of the synagogue was a Polish Jew and he spoke Portuguese to us. I had a hard time paying attention to his descriptions of the Torah and Shabbat but afterwards I helped explain things to the non-Jewish students. The synagogue is no longer functioning, as there are only 2 Jewish families in Tomar, not even enough for a minyon. (10 men) Yet this man and his wife still continue to keep alive the spirit of a community that the government once tried to destroy. 500 years later, the Tomar synagogue still stands.

We then headed to an art museum of some sort, but the all-Portuguese explanation of the 17 works of art completely lost me--as did the abstract paintings of what I think was supposed to be a tree in different phases of its life. I enjoyed much more playing in the plaza, running at mobs of pigeons and smelling the chrysanthemums that overflowed in vendors' pots. A small tourist tram/bus was idling in the plaza and a (smart!) suggestion by one of the students to our professor landed all of us squeezed into leather seats. I love how utterly Portuguese our Portuguese professors are. One mention of needing coffee, and we stop for pastries and coffee. One mention of riding the tram instead of going to another museum, and we are on the tram. Doesn't take much convincing...

The tram ride took us through "historic" Tomar, which wasn't really a historic tour at all. Our very enthusiastic tram driver pointed out nearly everything, claiming it was "the most important library in Tomar!" or "the best public park in Tomar!" or "The most important gas station in Tomar!" It took us a few minutes to notice it but once we did we couldn't get enough of it. The most important hotel in Tomar, the most important streets in Tomar...as ruas mais importantes em Tomar! In between his enthusiastic tour guide comments, traditional Portuguese and Iberian music played over the intercom and we had a spontaneous dance party in compartment 2. The residents of Tomar seemed amused at the 50 of us squeezed into the train and we waved at everyone, most of them waving back. I would say that's the nice thing about small towns, except that generally people are like that here in Lisbon too.

After our tour, which I think was much more educational than another art museum and the Matchstick Museum (???), which had been on the schedule, we were given a half hour of free time in which we decided to ravage a pastelaria. I know I probably spend too much time raving about pastries but I just have to mention once again how every town seems to have its own signature pastry or pastries that just aren't as common in Lisbon, whereas Lisbon has some that you don't see much outside of the city. Neat. Delicious.

On our way back to the bus we walked past a couple juggling flaming batons. One of them looked utterly bored. I feel so lucky to have stumbled upon what were clearly the most important fire dancers of the town.

Worth the early wake-up. A beautiful day. That night I went to a friend's house party in Santos, a neighborhood along the river. I got really excited because once we finally found the apartment complex, it was a building that I have passed before and taken pictures of because it has beautiful azulejos. The most important coincidence in Lisbon.

RIP

Even though I have unfinished posts waiting to be finished and posted, I have to interrupt my own train of thought. It is with great sadness that I inform you of the passing of my computer, MacDaddy. He died last night around 1:30 am after a brief struggle with being permanently frozen. Instead of resting in peace, I would like him to return quickly from the computer repair shop. Quickly, and cheaply. Even though the camera guy a few weeks ago signed off on my camera as under warranty (i.e., free repair), I doubt I'll be able to pull off that kind of luck twice, even in a city like Lisbon where putting something under warranty is as simple as smiling at the man behind the counter who says "Sure, I'll sign off on this. Why not?"

It was one of those knock on wood kind of moments. Last week I realized that I hadn't backed up my computer in a while so I went through and backed up everything, including my 5,000 photos and all of my work for my classes here up through that point. Then, I had the busiest week of my semester in which I wrote 2 papers and 1 presentation and I didn't back up this past weekend. And then my computer crashes, almost as if the act of backing up was inviting the hard drive to crash.

So bear with me, dear readers, as it will be difficult to stay on track with my portublog while I'm confined to sharing computers in the dorm's computer lab. If there is a bright side to all of this, other than the opportunity to practice my Portuguese as I run around town to heal MacDaddy, it is that I now have plenty of time to sleep since I won't have my computer to distract me late at night. This is truly fantastic, as my last month here promises to be exhausting from trying to squeeze in as much as possible.

Like tonight for instance. Today is Internation Student Day in Lisbon (and the international community? I don't know. Maybe just in Lisbon...) Anyways, we went to a reception for Erasmus students at City Hall. They spoke a lot of Portuguese for which we politely clapped and I spent a lot of time making faces/smiling as the video cameras swept around the crowd. Then we were endowed with refreshments in the form of port wine and pastries. Have I mentioned how much I love Portugal? This would be an appropriate time. I will save my descriptions of the festa for later when I'm not so tired and not hurrying to return a friend's borrowed laptop. They are coming, though. I promise. After all, it's not everyday that you get to go to a fancy Monday evening soiree with dancing and wine in Lisbon, Portugal. I can't pass up an opportunity to gloat a tiny bit.

So dearest MacDaddy, best wishes for a speedy return from the dead. And dearest readers, thank you for your understanding in this dark time. If you should desire to contact me, I have limited email access so if you don't hear back from me, just get on the next flight and we can talk when you get here.

And then I found one euro and twenty centimos

Thursday night after burying our faces in delicious pizza, something I've been craving for weeks, we headed to the Thursday night Erasmus party. It was being held at a new bar (new for Erasmus) and we thought it would be cool to expand our nightlife beyond Bairro Alto. The bar had a sort of movie theme going on, with director's clapboards and movie posters lining the walls. Movie posters of...Muppets. Reservoir Frogs, MIB (Muppets in Black), Kill Swill...imagine Miss Piggy wearing Uma Thurman's yellow tracksuit. Pretty classy. The only thing that made the place more disturbing was the presence of candles.

Candles. Open flames. In a bar where people are dancing.

My very first thought upon entering the bar and seeing the candles is "Well that's an accident waiting to happen." And sure enough, a little while into the party Gustavo yanked me away from the dance floor and said "One of the candles got knocked over. We need to get out of here." Awesome. Who the #@%! puts candles next to a dance floor?! That isn't just Portuguese apathy; that's plain stupidity. The bar owner comes pushing his way through the crowd while we looked for the rest of our friends. A circle had formed in the middle of the room with everybody backing away and I just kept thinking to myself that this is exactly how people die in nightclubs. Fires that lead to panic. Maybe a little dramatic, sure, but I was not about to take chances because somebody else was dumb enough to create such an obvious fire hazard.

Before the danger, the bar actually played a really good selection of music including a lot of 50s and swing music. Clearly there is no place better than a crowded dance floor surrounded by candles to attempt legitimate swing dancing. A group of Portuguese boys spent most of the time shouting at each other across the 10 feet of floor to the point where the music became more of a heavy metal/screaming swing kind of beat. I'm no expert, but I think this is a terrible combination. They also played Bon Jovi. I have never heard such an enthusiastic reception to "It's my Life" The Portuguese boys knew the words better than I did.

At one point before we left, Gustavo and I were trying to kick the glass pieces of a broken ashtray off the dance floor so as to avoid other possible calamities. Collectively between us, we found 1 euro and 20 centimos during this effort. Lesson to be learned? Sometimes if you pick up other people's messes you won't have to pay as much for your cab. Also, the Portuguese are apparently rather lax when it comes to fire safety and other hazards. This was enough of a reason to leave the creepy Muppet/fire hazard bar; the fact that we had a field trip commencing in five hours was another semi-major factor in our decision to go home.

All in all, a pretty typical Thursday night in Portugal.

Bones, beer and boinas

The sun has been particularly bright the past few days in Lisbon. I feel a noticeable difference when I walk out of the shade into the sun, which now begins setting at 5 pm forcing me to watch the sunset instead of pay attention in my 4:00 class. That's the curse of huge windows and the palm trees just outside of them. How is anybody supposed to focus?

It's been so sunny and beautiful that I have to keep reminding myself that it is November. Otherwise, I get carried away daydreaming; "If the weather stays this nice 'til Friday, we could go to the beach!" Alas, it's not that warm. The sky is a blinding shade of the most brilliant blue though. I had a conversation with a friend yesterday about what color the sky would be called if it were made into a Crayola crayon. But the color of the Lisbon sky can't be contained; I don't think any paint swatch could ever accurately capture the essence of this radiant blue. The relative lack of pollution in the city makes this sky the clearest I've ever seen. The sky, light and fresh air are mildly intoxicating. It's so hard to pull myself out of that reverie...

But I digress. The purpose of this post is to record, more for my memory than anything else, a few things I forgot to mention...

• In Evora, we visited the Bone Chapel, a rather large, crypt-like chapel inside a church covered from floor to ceiling in human bones and skulls taken from a local graveyard hundreds of years ago. Lovely.
• A few weeks ago there was a taxi pulled up to the curb waiting in a right-turn lane. The cab blocked most of the turn lane, which didn't require a light, and all the cars behind him were honking like crazy because they couldn't move. Luckily, people don't mind driving on the sidewalk here and they could inch around him over the curb. As each car slowly pulled around, the driver stopped, rolled down the window and yelled at the cab driver. Every single car that passed did this. As if the first time, second time...sixth time...wasn't enough to give the cab driver the idea. I laughed out loud. Honestly-they were all honking so they could move and instead of taking the alternate route (sidewalk) and just continuing, they further blocked traffic by stopping individually to yell at the guy. Ah, Portugal.
• Last night, Wednesday, my dorm threw a party. We have a student commission in charge of the social life at the dorm and they are the official body for complaints, requests, etc. Anything that is not a maintenance problem goes through the student commission. Last night they turned the rec room into a dance floor with strobe lights, disco balls, a full DJ setup and a bar with beer on tap. They also auctioned off freshmen to be "slaves" for the upperclassmen. Tell me: where in the US would you have a dorm throwing an official party, serving alcohol and having a DJ spinning until 5 in the morning on a Wednesday? Again, I must reiterate: when do people ever sleep in this city?
  
• I've mentioned plenty of times how time seems to work differently here, one of the many things contributing to the feeling that it's not always the 21st century here. Recently, I have fallen in love with a trend I've noticed pretty much everywhere I've been in the country. The old men here all wear these floppy hats called boinas. These men move slower than the normal slow pace of the lisboetas, which is already pretty slow. I often see them sitting on benches just existing, enjoying the world and the beautiful day. They sit contentedly with their hands crossed over their bellies, boinas flopping down across their face. It's a sight from another era, one in which people didn't leave the house without a hat and one without noise pollution, email, PDAs, demanding schedules...I envy these men more than anything else because of the sheer calmness they exude. Always so content. I would love to get myself a boina but I don't think I could ever pull it off. Plus, it would ruin the authenticity of the hat and what it represents. I wouldn't want to do anything to ruin the authenticity of Portugal, which is for the most part blessedly untouched by the tourism bug that tends to destroy the true feel of a place.
  
• Evora is a small, quiet place. We had a lot of time to kill when we arrived at the train station to catch our train back to Lisbon and there were no other trains scheduled for the evening so we goofed off on the tracks, testing our strength in pushing the engine (unsuccessful), testing the limit of how much we could climb on the outside of the train without getting yelled at (successful) and running across the tracks to play next to the abandoned train cars. The small water tower bearing the town's name was just a hop skip away so we hopped and skipped over the iron ladder to ascend the tower and look into the sun as it set over the countryside. This, too, reminded me of another era. Minus the digital camera, we could've been in the 1950s playing along train tracks like you see in the movies. Except that it was a hundred times more exhilarating than in the movies because I got to experience it for real.
• I went to Elephant Walk today for lunch and spoke Portuguese with Rodrigo for 20 minutes. (Rodrigo is our juice-and-tosta-maker extraordinaire) I might actually come home with a basic knowledge of the Portuguese language.
  

Tomorrow we are going on a day trip to Tomar to see a Templar cathedral and my camera has still not returned from Coimbra, so pictures are pending indefinitely. After two really tough weeks of papers, tests and presentations, I am really looking forward to the weekend.

Marijuana or chopsticks?

Last week was my busiest week yet and this upcoming week is going to be even worse, so naturally this weekend was a great opportunity to do everything except work. Don't get me wrong--I had fully planned on staying inside the whole weekend and working on my papers and getting a lot of sleep; the weekend just didn't go quite as planned, the pleasant result of living spontaneously and seizing the day everyday in Portugal.

Thursday evening I relaxed a bit and then opened my computer to start working on my racism paper for my anthropology class. I had planned to stay in, maybe watch a movie and sleep, but my friends had other plans in mind. We went to this club near the river called The Loft that played weird house music and had a huge dance floor. A huge...empty...dance floor. So sad. It was still a fun night and it was cool to check out a new place in a different part of the city. Also, the entrance was lit up in hot pink, which of course I thought was awesome. Our late night caused me to sleep in and I woke up on Friday with a huge to-do list staring me in the face. At one point I decided to go for a walk because it was a beautiful day outside and I had a great adventure with my iPod around my neighborhood. It's so easy to forget that other people have work and school on Fridays, not like the Portuguese ever seem to go to work in the first place but whatever. Friday evening we tried to go to a 9:30 showing of the new 007 movie but couldn't get tickets until the midnight show. If you're ever going to see a midnight movie, go to one like James Bond. It'll keep you awake. And since the movie hasn't come out in the US yet, I'll take this opportunity to tell you everything that happens....

Just kidding.

Saturday the real fun began. We woke up early to go to the flea market, a neat little discovery by Annia last week. To get there we had to take the trolley up the hill past the castle to the National Pantheon. Basically, this means we were in a beautiful location overlooking some beautiful architecture and spectacular views of the river. The flea market is overwhelming. Near the entrance, you have legitimate vendors selling handcrafted jewelry, scarves, accessories and the like. As you wander further into the market, you have more and more vendors with a blanket full of CRAP. Honestly. It's like a giant yard sale. These people dig through their houses and pull out everything they don't want. And there are hundreds of these vendors. Buttons, old calculators, light switches, dolls--often in pieces--bouncy balls, shoes that have been worn through, napkins...everything. My favorite sightings included a 4-ft carved giraffe statue, a female mannequin in 2 pieces that we later saw someone buy, an electric typewriter that didn't work, and a giant rusted propeller. At the far end of the market Sarah and I spotted a fondue set. We asked (in portuguese!) how much the man wanted, and he said 10 euros. We responded "Nao, obrigada" and then he said "5 euros!" so we said "sure!" Our 5 euro flea market fondue set. Pretty nifty. We have no idea how to light it and thus use it, but that was not a consideration at the time. We also bought a few scarves at 2 euros a piece. A successful day at the market. I think I will go back every Saturday from now on just because it is a great place to meet people and an even better place to practice Portuguese. It was also, coincidentally, the place where I heard the most English I've heard so far (outside of my friends) On the trolley on the way back we actually met two older couples who were visiting from Dallas. One of the men asked me where I go to school and responded with "hook 'em horns!" when I told him. It was kind of nice to run into some Americans. It's only the second time since I've been here, which, as of today, is officially two months. It was not so nice to accidentally poke one of the Americans with our fondue skewers when the trolley jerked to a stop. Luckily, I could adequately apologize for the wayward skewer in a language I speak without stuttering.

We tried out a new pastelaria in Baixa before heading home. I napped for a few hours and then woke up to study and write papers. Super fun. Study abroad is not supposed to be so demanding that it keeps you from doing other things and experiencing the culture. It's been a little bit of a disappointment to be faced with these massive 15-20 page papers for classes that have no bearing on graduating or even relate to my own academic interests. But what can I do other than do it and move on? After finishing one of the three papers I have to do, we headed out with the brazilians for Japanese food. Ordering Japanese food is somewhat overwhelming in the states when I don't know what everything is. Ordering in Portuguese was downright stressful. They had an all-you-can-eat menu that we all decided to order but then choosing each of the dishes...Sarah and I kept spilling all over the place, too, adding to the already violently red shade of my blushing face. I spent most of the meal speaking Portuguese with Joao who totally threw me for a loop when he asked the waitress for what sounded like "hashish."

"Did you just order weed from the waitress?!"
"No!! I asked for chopsticks."

Oh. I don't know how to spell the Portuguese word for chopsticks but it sounds strikingly similar to "hashish" (think hak-shish) and if anybody else at the table had noticed my startled moment I probably would not have been able to live it down. That's what I get for being friends with native Portuguese speakers.

I know you can't see it, but I'm smiling. I still can't get my head around the fact that my closest friends here are Brazilian, that I took a leap away from the Americans and really forged my own friendships. It's also helpful having them around because I get to practice my Portuguese, although I do get a lot of grief for speaking "too Portuguese." Monica, my teacher, would be so disappointed in me if she knew I was learning *gasp* Brazilian Portuguese. Please don't tell her.

After dinner we headed to Bairro Alto where I was the only native English speaker in the whole group. It gave me a lot of opportunities to practice but it was also a tiny overwhelming. Very cool though. Where else in the world and when else in my life am I ever going to have the opportunity to be the only American in my group? Nowhere. Never. Amazing.

The best part of the evening is that we witnessed the beginnings of a protest. Some politician has decided to "clean up" Bairro Alto by closing the bars down at 2 am and forcing people to leave. The residents of the neighborhood are complaining about the noise, so the visitors to the neighborhood decided to complain about the residents. The "protest" involved a bunch of people with guitars and other instruments and a lot of people with whistles. As the bars forced people to leave, the whistlers got started. The screeching was awful/awesome. I've never seen people so dedicated to maintaining their nightlife environment. I'm sure that people would react similarly in Austin if the city tried to close down 6th street 2-4 hours earlier than usual but something about the narrow alleys of BA being completely cramped made the whole experience stimulating and overpowering. In a good way. Sort of.

The cops showed up as predicted and started politely pushing people out through side alleys as they tried to force their way through the crowd to get to the whistlers. Naturally, the noise only got louder.

Sunday instead of pursuing my usual policy of utter laziness and mandatory Pajama Day, I went to the Gulbenkian Museum with my roommates. The museum is free on Sundays and it houses a beautiful (enormous) collection spanning about 5000 years of human history. Afterwards we wandered through the gardens. One duck-inspired photo shoot, one acorn fight and one nap in the cool grass later, we decided that maybe it was time to head home and start working on the massive amounts of homework we all have. I'm really glad I took advantage of the opportunity, though. The copious sunshine really rejuvenated me for my somewhat stressful week.

Pictures coming soon.

Interesting fact of the day: Portugal has the 4th highest wine consumption in the world and is number 8 on the list of countries with the most freedom of the press. Not too shabby!

And one final thought...
I live here.

That's so totally Barack

A big mazel tov from across the pond to os meus amigos in America for electing a bright, promising president. I woke up Wednesday morning to an email from mom:

"Hi sweetheart. You've woken up in a changed world."

I don't care who you supported in the election or even maybe how you feel about Obama, but I hope you can see, regardless of your political preferences, how mind-blowingly incredible this week is. Just half a century ago, fires raged and protesters marched to bring the rights promised 200 years ago in the Constitution to all of America. And here we are in 2008 celebrating the rise of an African-American to the presidency. I think it's proof that humanity and unity can overcome bigotry and racism and hate. And yes, there are still lots of problems the country faces and I do not think Obama is by any means infallible, nor do I believe he'll be able to deliver on all of his promises. But what president ever has? I just think it's incredible that in just half a century we've progressed as a nation to the point where something like this is even possible, much less--or maybe much more--a reality.

Every single person I have talked to in the past couple months here in Portugal, and especially the past 2 days, is thrilled about Obama's race and election to the presidency. In America, it is generally known that much of the world is not thrilled with us right now for various reasons but I never really comprehended that until I got over here. It's fascinating listening to what non-Americans have to say about the election and the government. Portugal, and the Portuguese, are relatively neutral these days but nobody here is really a huge fan of President Bush, so they were all looking forward to us electing a new president, especially since the European economy has sort of been holding its breath, waiting to see what the American economy would do, which was in turn waiting on the election...Anyways, the point is that all of the Europeans I've met are thrilled that we have elected a new president and almost everybody is thrilled that we elected Obama.

Again, regardless of your political preferences, I hope you can understand how fascinating it is to be experiencing this from the other side of the world. I didn't realize how much people outside of the United States were following the campaigns. Many of my friends here know more about it than I do, which is either really embarassing or really impressive considering I'd been blowing off homework to follow the news...

It's sort of out of character for me to spend so much time focusing on politics but it's been just so interesting following the election so...bear with me for a few more minutes. If you're sick of my thoughts on politics, skip ahead to the section labeled "Toast."

My anthropology professor assigned us a spur of the moment paper to write about racism in the election and it's been very difficult to approach the election results in a completely analytical, academical sense without any emotion getting involved. I feel like this is an emotional (and not in a moody female way but in a I-can't-separate-my-heart-from-this way) event and a monumental one in our history as a country but even more so, it's a monumental event in my lifetime. I wasn't in Alabama or Mississippi in the 50s or 60s but I'm alive today and I sometimes feel like I can feel the world changing on a day to day basis. I felt so proud on Wednesday morning. Instead of having to defend myself as a Texan and American, I got to high five and hug and say "Yeah, I supported Obama!"

Even more impressive than the possibility and then reality of electing an African American to the presidency is just the sheer volume of voter turnout. Four years ago when they did the Rock the Vote campaign, the number of young people voting didn't increase that drastically despite all the money they poured into that effort. And then two men (and one woman if you go all the way back to the primaries) generated so much interest that numbers jumped higher than ever before. I don't know why you wouldn't want to vote; even if you're not crazy about either candidate, I feel that it's a shame to pass up a right that so many people fought for, shed blood for, gave their lives for. Generations upon generations of Americans and people all over the world never had--and often still don't--have the freedom to express themselves and influence their lives in the way that we can as Americans. It makes me sad that some people aren't able to vote because they can't get off work or out of school in time. And it's disappointing that apathy remains such a huge factor in those uncast ballots. I hope this election will help change that eventually too...

And last but not least, I wish I could've been in the US on Tuesday night to dance in the streets with my friends and celebrate the American dream coming to life. I can't wait to see what's in store for the next four years and beyond. To quote my friend Tomas, it's going to be "so totally Barack."

TOAST
Wednesday evening some of the Americans got together for a toast to the end of the presidential election and the eminent end of the Bush administration. We popped a bottle of champagne (the toast) and toasted bread on Noey's space heater (toast) We goofed around, not really feeling the need to talk about the election anymore since it feels like that's all we've been doing. One of our friends who is a McCain supporter declined the invitation to toast our new president but joined in the cheers for the end of eight years of Bush's policies. It was nice that despite our differences of opinion we could a) find some common ground and b) be civil adults about our differences. I watched McCain's concession speech and was disappointed by all the booing. I was really happy that we could all just get along.

That's about it for major things that happened this weekend. We visited a few museums for art history but they weren't that exciting so I don't feel the need to bore you to death. Instead, enjoy some honorable mentions and thank you readers for indulging me in my streak of caring about politics. Ate logo!

Honorable Mentions

• Backtrack to Daniel and Elena's adventures...on our way up to the Castelo, Daniel picked up a carob leaf off the ground and showed me how to eat it. It was not half bad, considering that I picked it up off the cobblestones of an 11th century castle. Not really something I would ever do outside of the influence of my persuasive cousin and the most perfect afternoon.
  
• Somebody tried to ask me something on the street the other day and as I tried to tell him I don't speak Portuguese, I instead said "Nao parler portugues" Parler is french for "speak," not Portuguese. whoops.
  
• I tried Portuguese fruit cake today at the grocery store. It also was not half bad. I did not eat this off the ground. Also, instead of making me walk around to sample, today they just brought it to me where I was standing in the aisle. Nice.
  
• I have decided that the Portuguese ideology of being constantly relaxed is bordering on pure apathy. I'm not sure I mind it that much, most of the time. It's not so fun when the escalators in Baixa Chiado, of which there are 4 very long ones, are not working and you have to climb hundreds of stairs just to leave the subway. And nobody is repairing them.
• I would like to reiterate the fact that people don't seem content to stay on the roads. I dodged a motorcycle on the sidewalk yesterday.
• I tried seitan, a cousin of tofu this week. The cantina here has a vegan line and a meat line, and the seitan stroganoff smelled delicious so I went for it. Not too shabby. My culinary tastes have expanded every so slightly. Thanks Portugal!
  
• I heard some people speaking English yesterday with an American accent, bringing my random-Americans-on-the-street count up to 6. There really aren't that many Americans here.
• Buying food at the grocery store is fairly cheap here. I bought orange juice, clementines, bread, a bottle of wine, futebol-shaped Cheetos (yeah!) and Pims for 6.33 euros. I'm really going to miss that aspect of my daily life here.
• Portuguese cheetos are not the same as American cheetos because they are made with real cheese. They also do not leave your hands orange and cheesy. It was an impulse buy and a very delicious one at that. The woman was not thrilled that I tried to give her 20.40 so I didn't have to get a lot of coins back. Honestly, of all the things to be picky about she goes for my choice of change. Where is the logic in that?
• I have developed a serious case of the Thursdays. Thursday afternoon history class has become the giggle seminar for Elena. For whatever reason, Portuguese exploits in the Indian Ocean are just that much funnier at 5:00 on a Thursday afternoon. It's a wonder my professor hasn't asked me to leave.
• My favorite security guard, Sergio, went on vacation and got moved to a different post when he got back so I don't get to see him anymore. I think it's indicative of the serious withdrawal I'm going to feel upon my return home.
  

I miss you, but I'm just not ready to leave. :) Tchau!

Portugalloween

I apologize for once again getting a full week behind. I haven't been able to use my hands this week as they have been frozen in the nasty bout of weather we've had. It dropped into the 50s this week. What on earth is happening? Instead of sunshine we have rain and instead of warmth we have blustery wind that is so strong it makes the palm trees dance. The Portuguese do not believe in central heating even though the brick buildings are colder on the inside than the weather is outside. Thus, I have been wearing 2 pairs of socks indoors except to shower. Wearing long underwear. Long sleeves. Sweatshirt. Wrapped in a blanket. My feet could chill a bottle of wine.

I mean, I might be exaggerating a little. I don't think everyone else is quite as cold as I am, save for Noey who is also from Texas. But I am cold when I'm inside the dorm. It's ridiculous.

I am fairly certain that I left off at Day 5 of the Adventures of Daniel and Elena. I had a lot of work to do that day, including a presentation to give, so Daniel ventured off on his own while I got to study. An uneventful day for the most part, save for the sheer exhaustion on my part. I told Daniel to meet us at the dorm at 9 so we could go to dinner. The Portuguese eat fairly late, so our arrival at our favorite Indian place at 10:30 was fashionably on time with the Thursday night dinner rush. We feasted, stuffed our faces, ate so much we couldn't move. And then we digested by wandering through the streets of Bairro Alto to give Daniel a taste of prime Lisbon nightlife (and his first-ever Lisbon caiprinha, a must-have if you ever visit) It was a fun evening and a great sendoff for my favorite visitor. Friday we slept in and took Daniel to Elephant Walk, another one of our favorite haunts, where we indulged in tostas (paninis) and drank lime-apple-orange-beet root juice. It was...a culinary adventure. And I'll leave it at that.

No, I won't leave it at that because I haven't mentioned Elephant Walk. It's a delicious little cafe that makes (experiments with?) fresh fruit juices daily. They let you sample each of the juices in tiny shot glasses so that you're totally satisfied with your purchase. And for the delicious price of 3.10euros, you can have a huge glass of fruityliciousness with a hot tosta and walk away feeling beyond satisfied. There are 2 people who work there that we have become friends with. One, a Brazilian grad student, is trying to work on her English because she is in a journalism masters program. So she speaks English to me and I speak Portuguese to her. It's amazing how friendly everyone is here. Most people are impressed that we even try to speak Portuguese and they are very patient with us. It's extremely refreshing, especially since popular culture encourages the idea that the rest of the world hates Americans. I haven't really had any problems with that here and it's nice to feel like I don't stand out as much as I thought I would.

And one more thing about Elephant Walk: It has a long lunch counter where you can sit and eat your tosta and it has a tiny room in the back that can seat 12 people at 3 tables. The room is approximately the size of my dorm room (shoebox) but it's amazing what they've managed to do with the decoration and design of the place. It feels a lot bigger than it really is and the closeness creates a kind of intimacy that makes the place really cozy and fun. It's the kind of ambiance you could never recreate in Texas, simply because no business would attempt to use such a small space and most people would be too uptight to eat rubbing up against someone else and they'd demand their personal space. Either that, or they'd be too impatient to wait their turn to squeeze through the crowded lunch counter. Portugal is first and foremost a lesson in patience and I'm thrilled to say I've acquired a shocking amount of patience. And cleanliness. That's right. I clean my room. Every day.

(Moment to wallow in self pride. Thanks)

Back to reality. I said goodbye to Daniel after Elephant Walk and headed down the street to school to meet the rest of the Americans for our weekend trip to Evora. The mood, like our luggage, was light and we were all very excited about relaxing in a quiet town after a very busy week. The train to Evora took us across the bridge that spans the Rio Tejo, affording us a spectacular view of the city. Camera still broken, I contented myself with making mental pictures. Evora is a very sleepy town. Our walk from the train station to the hotel took us past horse stables. There were very few people out. We checked in and walked around, ending up in the main square of the town and settling at a pastelaria. Our CIEE trips are prepaid so all meals--including lanche--come out of CIEE and not our wallets. Thank you parents. So naturally, lanche turned into a chaotic mess as we ordered multiple pastries and coffees and gelatos and IceTea limaos. I'm pretty sure I've seen animals hoard food in a more civilized fashion. It took 4 trays to get everything to our table. The same concept applied to dinner--every appetizer, big entrees, drinks, lots of bread, dessert, refills on everything. In the 26 hours or so that we were in Evora, I'm pretty sure we spent about 10 of them eating. Our touring of Evora was low-key: we visited the cathedral, the university, a couple churches. In one of the churches, we had to cut our visit short because we had found wedding #3. And it was going on. At least, the groom and his whole side of the family was there. But they let us in anyways, as long as we promised to stay off the red carpet running along the length of the nave.

So typically Portuguese. Let's ignore the fact that two people are about to have the most special day of their lives and let the tourists in! Minutes after we walked out the bride arrived and we clapped for her and smiled and admired her dress (which was beautiful, by the way) Wedding aside, the touring was relaxing and simple. We stopped for pictures on a terrace overlooking the city in the shadow of the Temple of Diana, a 5000 year old temple that sits on top of the hill with a simple guardrail at the front to indicate "Don't climb on the 5,000 year-old monument." (This was a concept some people had trouble observing) It was mind-blowing, though, to be walking up a hill and oh, there's a temple. A 5,000 year old temple. Just hanging out on top of the hill. No sign, no ticket booth, no fences to keep you from getting too close. It was pretty cool to be physically connected to history.

In short, Evora was beautiful, peaceful and full of delicious food. The rest of the weekend passed without incident. Lazy Sunday was as lazy as ever and my African neighbors were right on time with the 8 hours of Bob Marley blasting from the 3rd floor.

The week flew and it was Thursday before I knew it. We discovered a Brazilian bar in Bairro Alto, which of course was extremely exciting for our Brazilian friends. It started raining, so much of the evening alternated between hovering under balconies to stay dry and squeezing our way through the crowded bar to dance and sing along to the music. Friday I slept in and Sarah accompanied me on a bus trip across town to find the Olympus store so I could go about getting my camera fixed. The trip in itself was cool because I got to see a different neighborhood that I probably wouldn't have otherwise seen. It was further north than I've been in Lisbon. Even better, the guy at the camera store signed off on my camera as still being under warranty even though it's not, so I am getting it repaired and rushed for FREE. Life is muito bom.

I chose not to celebrate Halloween, although some Lisboetas in Bairro Alto were dressed up, most in witch costumes and with painted faces. They were dressed in more traditional Halloween costumes instead of "sexy nurse" and all the other inappropriate costumes traditionally found on college campuses. Still...I don't really like Halloween much so I skipped the dressing up and enjoyed a nice (dry) night out on the town. It was kind of cool just being out for Halloween and noticing the differences between American celebrations and the rest of the world. Some bars had hung decorations but in most places it felt like any other night in Lisbon. In any event, I think i would rather trick-or-treat for pastries...

Last night Sarah and I made hamburgers before going out, complete with ketchup. Everyone who walked into the kitchen said, "That smells good!" and we just smiled and congratulated ourselves on such a delicious meal. They really were. Had it not been freezing in the kitchen, the evening would've almost resembled a Saturday night cookout. Almost. We had a fabulous night out dancing and someone stole my coat from the coatcheck, balancing the fabulous with the less-than-fabulous. After being lent a coat by a friend, we headed home where Sarah and I sat in the kitchen watching the sunrise. (!!) A truly Portuguese schedule and truly wonderful weekend.

And now I am officially caught up. Maybe the next post will be less of a ramble and more coherent. Maybe. This week the most exciting thing on the horizon is the election. The American Embassy is hosting an election night party at the Hard Rock Cafe and we got invited. We are officially VIPs, as we had to give them our passport information for security clearance. Pretty spiffy, huh?

Boa noite! Ate logo

Everywhere we go people want to know

The Adventures of Daniel and Elena: Day 2.

I know. It's hard to believe that after everything we packed into Day 1 that there was enough of us still standing to do another day, much less make it home that night. But we did both. In fact, I took my first solo cab ride and spoke only Portuguese to the driver. Impressed? Well what if I told you I fought off another woman to get the only cab waiting at the train station on a Sunday evening?

Ok, I didn't have to fight. I did run down the stairs though. Two at a time. And I knocked on the cab's window to wake him up and he looked just as happy to see me as I was to see him, because let's be honest: calling the cab company and having to have that conversation entirely in Portuguese would have just been soooo un-Portuguese. (i.e., too much work. especially on a Sunday)

Monday morning dawned as every other Monday morning dawns here: bright. Daniel and I headed to our neighborhood pastelaria for his very first pastel de nata. Hooray! After a thrilling (?) morning of classes, we met me at school for his first taste of delicious, government-subsidized cantina food. I showed him the dorm and then we headed to the metro to go downtown. Baixa is the area that most people think of when they think "Lisbon." It's a little touristy but still fairly authentic as it was the main focus of rebuilding after the earthquake and it was the northern boundary of the city until that point, which considering Lisbon's long history, is a long time to stay such a small city, especially through the years of being the farthest-reaching empire on the planet. But we can talk about history later. The point is, Baixa was definitely an important item on the to-do list for the week.

We walked around for a while, checking out Praca do Commercio, the old city center and medieval market. We wandered through the wide streets of Baixa, window pastry shopping, people watching and enjoying a beautiful afternoon. After a while we had the inspired idea to jump on Tram 28 and sit through a jerky buggy ride through Alfama. If you ever want a scary experience, try to ride a tram through Alfama while other cars are on the road. The roads are 3 meters wide and yet cars still try to make it a 2-way street. It's Ridiculous. I had never ridden 28 past the castelo, so imagine my surprise when we came to the end of the circuit...and we weren't back from where we started. Typical. Even more typical, I had no idea where we were. Thank goodness for maps. 2 metro stops later we made it back to Baixa, where we passed a man in jazz pants and face paint moving his hips in giant circles. He was facing the shop windows. He made a very wide arc with his hips. We then stumbled upon a group of protesters. I can't exactly explain what they were protesting. Their homemade t-shirts said "Be the change!" and "H2O" and "Be proactive" One guy had a drum and occasionally stepped into the semi circle to shout "Water!" or "Change!" and then bang once and return to his spot. We didn't really stop to watch. We kept walking and eventually came upon senhor jazz pants again, except this time he was in full costume and character. He was one of those statue guys who doesn't move until you put money in his cup. I had a few euro cents in my pocket so for grins, I threw it in there.

BAM!

The man bends over completely backwards and smacks down completely flat on the stones in a single movement. And he just stayed there, limp and twisted like bean bag, like it didn't even hurt. Ouch! It looked incredibly uncomfortable. Totally worth the 8 cents. More walking led us to a "gelato" shop. Word of advice: Don't ever get gelato with someone who lives in Rome. It's embarassing. And you'll never hear the end of it. (Love you Daniel) As we walked and ate, we passed by a store that was going out of business and had giant "liquidacao" signs in the window. Needless to say, we ate our ice cream much faster and turned around to head into the shop. Countless pushy women consumed the bottom floor so we pushed through the crowd and I went upstairs to help Daniel. They had blazers on sale for 15euros so we played guess-my-size and then took big gulps of fresh air to head back downstairs to the madness. 10 minutes later, we escaped alive with full stomachs and only down 15euros in his wallet.

Now you're probably wondering why I waste your precious time with all these menial details. Well, Baixa is not usually this exciting. Maybe it was the novelty of rediscovering and playing tour guide and whatnot, but honestly, I have been down to Baixa quite a lot and never had quite so many of these little moments that just make my day. From staring open-mouthed at the largest crabs we've ever seen to speaking Portuguese with street artists...it was just an incredible afternoon. And all the chestnut stands filled the air with this deliciously hazy smoke that made the city feel very wrapped up and intimate. We ran into the protesters one more time, this time as they were walking down the street. They were singing in call-and-response style:

"Everywhere we go people want to know
Who we are, where do we come from
So we tell them
We are from Yoor-up"

Yes, Yoor-up. Probably "europe" except that it was the only word they seemed to have trouble pronouncing in English, which is the language they had chosen to shout in. Still have no idea what they were shouting about...

Day 3. Tuesday. Or rather, bestdecisioneverday. One of the many nice things about Lisbon is that its hills afford several spectacular views and there are plenty of high points from which to enjoy them. I took Daniel down to Rato to wander down Rua Politecnica, a street that winds all the way down to the river and goes through several prominent neighborhoods. We stopped at this beautiful balcony overlooking central Lisbon; it was the first place CIEE took us when we got here and therefore was my first glimpse of the whole city.


We walked through Bairro Alto a little bit and I was totally amazed by how different it is during the day. For those of you who have ever been to Austin, you will appreciate the fact that the shops in Bairro Alto are like the kinds of places you'll find on South Congress. Except here they are in closet-sized holes in the wall and you often don't know they're there unless you look. Or go in broad daylight. I looked at the hours: many of them are only open starting in the mid-late afternoon until midnight. Midnight. Honestly, when does anybody sleep in this city? Because apparently if you get to Bairro Alto before the retail shops close at midnight, you're early.

But back to the daytime, because there's so much to tell! We walked, walked, walked through some of the most Lisbon-ish parts of Lisbon and headed for the train station where we bought tickets for Cascais. Despite the changing weather, the beach is still a wonderful place to go. First of all, the train follows the coast so you get 30 uninterrupted minutes of river and then ocean views. Once in Cascais we wandered further down the coast to Boca do Inferno. The fishermen were out again, rods in the water and eyes staring out to sea with looks of perfect contentment. We had brought along pasteis de nata, which tasted even better in the salty ocean winds. We sat for hours, watching the water crash and swirl and be sucked underneath the rocks. Barnacles literally coated the rocks just a few feet from us. We could hear the water swirling in hollow spaces underneath us and when we looked close enough, we realized there were holes in the rocks that went straight down to the water below. How. Freaking. Cool. You could tell that when it was high tide, the water would come high above where we were sitting. There were barnacles 7 or 8 feet up on the cliffs.



The clouds had rolled in a bit so we decided not to catch the full sunset, feeling the onset of the wind that would only get colder as it got dark. So we headed back to Cascais, stopped at Santini for more delicious, but still not authentic Italian--duh, gelato and then took the train back. Another night of cooking at the dorm with Sarah and Day 3 came to a peaceful, if not exhausting, close.




Day 4. Wednesday. Adrenaline Rush Day.
Still with me? I know it's been overwhelming. You must be asking yourself, how can so many wonderful, beautiful, perfect days have possibly happened in one week? I don't know the answer. Maybe it was just the magic of being together with Daniel across the world, on our own outside of a family event. Or the fact that since we're both studying abroad, we are both on the same page when it comes to experiencing new places. Or maybe that Daniel's just awesome. I'm not sure, but whatever it was, fate was in our favor. (And no worries family. I still did work. And we still slept a sane number of hours. We just...modified.)

Wednesday we had an art history field trip so Daniel came with us to Sao Vicente and Santa Engracia, a convent and the national pantheon. He knows wayyy more about art history and architecture (Classics major...go figure) than me or my professor, so he supplemented the tour with his own insights and I learned a lot. Then we held up the group when we discovered an ancient cistern underneath the church and spent a few minutes gaping at the water that reflected the ceiling of the cistern so perfectly we thought it was a mirror. Honestly. I'm not sure I can handle so many little fantastic surprises like this. Pretty soon, I'm going to start expecting amazing things to turn up at every corner because that's what they seem to do here.

After my afternoon class was over, I stopped at the dorm to pick up Gustavo and drop off my stuff and then we headed downtown to meet Daniel. We caught the tram (luckily knowing where we were going this time) and endured a very, very crowded ride up to the castelo. We practically ran the rest of the way up the hill, worried we wouldn't make it in time before it closed. Hurrying is so not a part of my life here but it was worth it. In fact, that was the theme of the whole afternoon: worth it. It was cloudy, windy and cold and I was utterly exhausted from balancing school, life and touring--2 full days worth of activity squeezed into one, three days and a row. *phew* I get tired just thinking about it. So yeah...I wasn't utterly thrilled for my third castle visit and I was hitting myself over the head for agreeing to go with the boys. Well, obviously I should've known not to doubt my city. I will never doubt again.

Being at the castelo Wednesday afternoon was more spectacular than the rest of the week combined. We walked the castle walls and took gazillions of pictures (not me. camera still broken) The sky rippled with blue, gray and purple clouds, changing tint every few minutes as the sun sank lower in the sky. At one point we were sitting on top of the walls admiring the sky when I thought about how good it would feel to stretch. I was sore from all the running all over the city for four days straight. So I planted both feet firmly on the ground and leaned backwards over the castle walls.

W.O.W.

People always talk about how the sky is bigger in Texas than almost anywhere else but it has nothing on Lisbon upside-down. The sky was infinite. The varying colors of the clouds created a stunning pattern of blues and grays that only seemed intensified. Or maybe it was the fresh autumn wind blowing my scarf and hair into my face, forcing me to sit up and get a serious head rush. And Dad, I'm sure you're probably white as a ghost thinking about how dangerous that move was. Well, I know a thing or two about physics and I was holding on. It was absolutely incredible. An adrenaline rush of the type I've never experienced, not in my years of climbing and roller coasters and ropes course and everything else. This was so unexpected because I wasn't doing anything that I would normally consider to be adrenaline rush-producing.

It felt so unbelievably good. So good that I convinced the boys to try it. So before you know it, all three of us were leaning over, hands gripped around the thousand year-old stones, laughing into the wind, watching the sunlight reflect off the clouds and feeling that the world could not be anymore fascinating. Well, I should learn to be more patient before I jump to conclusions like that. We walked back down towards the castle entrance and Gustavo pulled out a package of chocolate cookies so we could much. We decided to sit; no one here eats on the go, after all. What's the hurry? As we sat, the sunset began.

It's hard to say when a sunset really begins, especially after an afternoon as beautiful as ours had been. But this was distinct. The sun simply burst out from underneath the clouds, a stunning, brilliant, blinding orange that perfectly complemented the deep blue of the clouds. This is when we realized we couldn't just leave, not with so much promise for a beautiful sunset. And it was. I don't think there are words to describe the moments where the clouds suddenly change colors, first purple, then pink, then electric pink, then orange and then..well, I'm not even sure what color came next. The sky changed so much in such a short time. Like fire.





(All of these are Daniel's pictures as my camera is still sad and broken.)

(And this one is Gustavo's, for the same reason)

We were almost too stunned to move after the sun finally set over the city but night=cold, so we started walking back down the hill. We passed a port wine shop and Daniel remembered that he wanted to try some before he left Lisbon so we went in, with the intentions of buying a small bottle so we could try it. But of course, the owner of the shop was not content with us just buying a 4euro bottle of port. (Wine is really cheap here so 4euros is actually a pretty decent bottle) But that's preposterous! What's even more preposterous is that he at first thought he could take advantage of us as tourists. He was pleasantly surprised when I told him I live here and his whole attitude towards us changed, evidenced by the free wine tasting and Port 101 class he proceeded to give us. Serious. We had been heading home for dinner and senhor surprise gives us a surprise wine tasting! Fabulous. He persuaded us to buy a slightly more expensive bottle, but we decided that it was worth it. A perfect ending to our day in Baixa. We headed home to make dinner and taste a tiny bit of our port. Delicious.

And so ended Day 4. Stay posted.