17: Leiria and My Wonderful Family

As I'm sure you know, I'm back in the United States already.  I still had two more posts planned for this blog, but unfortunately after my previous post my schedule got rather hectic:

First, there was exam period, where I suddenly had quite a lot to review and study and a 10-page paper to write on the book "Eurico, o Presbítero" and how it reflected Portuguese Liberalism during the 19th Century.

Second, there was the very short period of time after exams that was dedicated solely to packing and saying goodbye to the amazing people I met while abroad.

Third, there was the few days I had at home when I finally got back to the United States, which were filled with unpacking for Portugal, seeing friends, and repacking for New York City!

And now, for the past two weeks, I have been running around the island of Manhattan for my internship with an off-Broadway production company AF Productions, which is currently producing "The Magdalene: A Musical" at Theater at St. Clement's this summer (shameless plug, I know).

Though through all of this business I have literally thought about closing up this blog every day.  But such work requires two blog posts, I believe, and so I will start the first one now with my travels with my family at the end of my semester:

So to say that I was nervous to encounter my family is a grave understatement.  I was absolutely petrified to see them, though not because they are in any way unpleasant but because I did not want to make a fool of myself with my terrible Portuguese.  I'm sure you all remember my first meeting with my cousin, which left me completely disheartened about any sort of language skill I formerly thought I possessed... and now it was time to confront these insecurities again.

The first meeting was only a day trip to Leiria that I mentioned in my Queima das Fitas post.  Amy and I took a bus on Saturday morning and met with my tia (aunt) Arminda and tio (uncle) Joaquim.  Tio Joaquim is my grandfather's brother, and they recently moved back to Portugal after moving to the States in the 1970s.  Tia Arminda might be the only one of my great-aunts and -uncles, either in Portugal or the United States, who speaks English very well, so I figured that if my Portuguese completely failed, at least I would be able to get by speaking with her in English.  That being said, I was still completely terrified.

Tia met us at the station and started speaking to us in English right when we got off the bus.  I felt relieved but also a little embarrassed.  Did she assume that we wouldn't be able to speak to her in Portuguese?  After introducing Amy, she walked us around downtown Leiria a little bit and then brought us into Zara, which is like a much nicer European H&M.  Out of nowhere, Tia told me and Amy that she would get us something from the store as a thank you for having come to visit her.

How could I have been scared of coming to visit my family?  This was only the first of so many moments of kindness and generosity.

It was a surprise, after we finished at Zara, to find out that we were meeting my Tio Artur (my grandfather's youngest brother) and his wife Tia Gabbie for lunch as well.  When we arrived at the restaurant, the Portuguese began... and it was completely fine!  I understand the vast majority of what they were saying, and with Tia Arminda sitting across the table from me, it was easy to clarify a sentence or ask for vocabulary.  In true Portuguese fashion, my family fed me as if I were supposed to have the appetite of three teenage boys.  By the time we left the restaurant, I had eaten soup, duck, potatoes, vegetables, a bowl of fruit, and more bread than you can imagine.  And this was with my refusing quite a lot more.

For reference

After lunch, we wandered around the city of Leiria, which is about halfway between Coimbra and Lisbon.  The county of Leiria is actually where most of my family is from.  My cousin and her family still live in the little town where my mother lived before emigrating.  It really is a tiny little place, and when I underwent my language placement test at the beginning of the semester, the professora told me that she in fact knew Tojal and told me it that it was no wonder my family left as the town of Tojal was a miserable place to live.  What a very pleasant woman.

Inside Sé Leiria

We stopped at a cafe, where the tios and tias had café and Amy and I drank galões (thrust upon us of course, as we were still too full to move properly).  We then hiked up the hill, passing Sé Leiria, a beautiful catedral, on the way to the Castelo de Leiria, the ruins of a 12th Century castle that was partially reconstructed in the 1970s.  Tia Gabbie even bought me a book about this castle after hearing about my interest in medieval history and ruins.  She stayed behind at the entrance though, as there was quite a lot of difficult climbing in and around the castle.  We rambled over the rocks and through the little passageways.  From the top of the towers you could see a magnificent view of the city of Leiria, both old and new.  I definitely fell in love with that little city while I was there.  As much as I love Coimbra and Lisbon, Leiria is the birthplace of my family and I was proud to be from a region with so much beauty and history (more on this later).   Tia Arminda told me that she was happy to come up here again: she hadn't visited the castle for more than thirty years.

View from Castelo de Leiria

Pastéis de Leiria

After the castle, we visited a cute little museum that was dedicated to visual movement.  Along with quite a lot of old cameras and video equipment, they had a really neat display of optical illusions.  My tios and tias seemed to enjoy that exhibit a lot.  After the museum, we traveled back downhill and stopped in another cafe, where my aunts and uncles bought us Leiria's famous pastries.  It seems as though all cities in Portugal have some sort of "special dessert," though they are all some variant of egg, flour, and sugar.  These were pretty good, and seeing as Amy and I enjoyed them, my family made us eat three before we left.

Tia Arminda, Tio Joaquim, myself, Tio Artur, and Tia Gabbie

After the pastries, we hopped into Tio Artur's car and drove over to a church on the edge of the city.  I can't remember its name (alas, what happens when I wait too long to blog) but it had a special legend about the numerous steps that led up to to the church.  There the tios and tias showed me the new hospital, which they had spoken about several times throughout the day already, and another great view of the city.  There we took pictures together and then hopped back into the car.  They wanted to show me Batalha.

Amy and I outside o Mosteiro

Pastéis de Batalha

I had visited Batalha when my family came to visit Portugal in 2008, but I was excited to go back.  The monastery there was definitely one of my favorite places in Portugal.  Unfortunately by the time we arrived, the Mosteiro de Batalha was closed to visitors, so we (in true Portuguese fashion) found a cafe, sat down, and had yet more coffee.  My aunts and uncles ordered Amy and I the special pastries of Batalha, of which I do not have fond memories.  Whether it was the amount of food and pastry I had already consumed that day or the strange texture of the pastry that made my entire body want to reject those pastries from Batalha I do not know, but I struggled to get those down and I think Tia Arminda noticed.  By that time, Amy and I were both slipping with our Portuguese.  We hadn't spoken English since before lunch, and our brains were exhausted.  Of course, Tio Artur's son Ricardo, with his wife Inês and son Tómas, who was just as tired as we were, came to meet us.  I had never met them before, as they weren't available when we visited years before, but they were very nice and their son might have been the cutest little boy I have ever seen.  But I'm afraid my language skills probably didn't impress them too much.  Exhausted and all Portuguese-ed out, Amy and I didn't have much to say after they arrived.  It didn't help that the conversation changed to real estate and economy either.  Soon it was time for Amy and I to get back to Leiria to catch our bus back home, so we all left the cafe, scrambled into the car once again, and jetted back to the station.  It was good that we did too, as the bus that we thought left at 8:30 actually left at 8:15, and we were just able to grab our bags and jump on the bus before it left.  My aunts and uncles lined the street and waved as our bus pulled out.

It was a fantastic day, and I was happy to be able to see them the next weekend as well.

I took a bus that next Friday afternoon to Leiria, though this time a few things had changed: 1) Tatiana was accompanying me this time, 2) I was set to be in Leiria for the entire weekend, and 3) I was not only visiting with Tia Arminda and Tio Joaquim, but I was also going to visit my cousin and her family from Saturday night to Sunday afternoon.  The butterflies returned, but I remembered my day in Leiria all too well and was much more excited than I had been before.

My pile of shrimp shells

When we arrived in Leiria on Friday, Tia Arminda and Tio Joaquim were waiting with Tio Artur and Tia Gabbie.  They were excited to bring Tatiana and I to some sort of seafood restaurant outside of Leira that Tio Artur loved, but when we arrived, it was sadly closed.  So we continued driving south and ended up in Nazaré, a fantastic beach town that I had visited previously.  Nazaré is divided, with part of it on the top of a high cliff, and the rest sprawled out down the hill and around the beach.  We went to a great restaurant on the higher area of Nazaré, where Tio Joaquim taught Tatiana and I how to shell shrimp both with our hands and with utensils, and Tio Artur told a very racist joke about Chinese food.  After dinner, we strolled over to the edge of the top part of the town, where we could see the beach and the rest of Nazaré at night.

Back in the car, Tio Artur drove us to the lower part of town, where he and Tia Gabbie had an apartment.  We stopped at their place, took a tour, and left with two large bags of chocolate.  Their apartment building is right on the main stretch of beach, so we walked down along the board walk for a little bit.  It was starting to get late and Tatiana and I were already pretty tired, but we still several other places to visit before we were able to sleep.  We drove back to Leiria, where we stopped at Tio Artur and Tia Gabbie's house there and took another tour and received a cake.  Then they drove us back to the bus station, from which Tio Joaquim and Tia Arminda drove us to their house outside of the city.  Somehow we were dead tired but my aunt and uncle were wide awake.  We passed some sort of fair along the way and Tia Arminda seemed to be entirely genuine when she asked if we wanted to stop by.  Tatiana had fallen asleep in the car at that point, so we decided to go ahead and get home.

Now, Tia Arminda and Tio Joaquim's house is like a mansion.  It's seriously one of the nicest houses I have ever seen in my life, and it is all built with money that they earned while working in the States.  I didn't have much time to admire it again when we arrived though.  Both Tatiana and I practically passed out as soon as we finished helping Tia Arminda make our beds.  We had gone to a river beach in Coimbra beforehand, but we were too exhausted to care that we smelled like river water.

Fatima

The next morning, we showered, ate some fruit and some of Tia Gabbie's cake for breakfast, and then drove to Fatima.  For those who don't know, Fatima is probably the holiest place in Portugal.  In 1917, the Virgin Mary appeared several times to three Portuguese shepherd children.  Of course, no one believed them for a very long time and, as Tia Arminda said, they suffered quite a lot.  I won't get into the whole story of it all, but I'll link the Wikipedia article here.   Now, it is a huge sight for pilgrimages and it is safe to say that 90% of Portuguese households have at least one statue of Our Lady of Fatima somewhere in their homes.  This was my second time at Fatima, but it was still amazing.  The complex is absolutely huge, with a huge cathedral on one end opposite another more modern church.  Between is all paved with white stone, with several smooth pathways for pilgrims to crawl on their knees toward the site where Mary appeared.  She originally appeared under a tree to the three children, and the tree is still there.  However, its been moved a few feet away from its original position, where a chapel with the figure of Our Lady of Fatima now stands.  I love this place because as soon as you enter the complex, you can feel that something very special happened there.  When she appeared, Mary also gave the children three prophetic secrets that foretold the upcoming World War I, the conversion of Russia, and the attempted assassination of a future pope.  The third secret was withheld from public knowledge until Pope John Paul II was almost killed in 1981.  Now there is a statue of JPII there whose toe is already worn with the touch of thousands of people.

We went into the cathedral, which is lovely inside.  The three children are all buried next to the altar, though I don't remember Lúcia, who became a nun and died in 2005, having been buried there yet in 2008.  Tatiana and I visited the official Fatima shop, where I finally got my Portuguese Bible, and then we left the complex and wandered through the maze of gaudy religious shops before Tio Joaquim picked us up and we went to have lunch.

After lunch, Tia brought us to the Grutas de São António, these fantastic underground caves near her hometown.  We were the only ones there, so we had a great time with our tour guide (who Tia Arminda instructed to only speak in Portuguese).  The caves were absolutely gorgeous underneath, and it was a nice break from the heat.

Inside the Monastery

After the caves, we returned to Batalha again.  This time, we were able to visit the inside of the church and monastery.  I didn't know previously, but my grandmother both went to school and was married there.  We visited the church, where King João I, Queen Phillipa of Lancaster, and their (kinda famous son) D. Henrique and his siblings are buried, then went into the cloisters, where we witnessed the changing of the guard ceremony at Portugal's own Unknown Soldier grave site and visited a small museum about the Unknown Soldier site.  We then passed behind the monastery to visit the unfinished chapels, where the touching grave of D. Duarte and his wife are forever holding hands.

Grave of D. Henrique (Henry the Navigator)

The Cloisters

Anyone remember "Timeline" when they see this?

With our Galo necklaces

After our visit, we met up with Tio Joaquim and Tia Gabbie again.  I had noticed a few people in the monastery dressed in period clothing before, but it was only when I got back outside that I realized that Batalha was hosting a Medieval Faire that weekend.  We wandered around the booths and watched a few musical performances.  One of my grandfather's old friends runs a souvenir shop near the monastery and gave me a little pendant of the Galo de Barcelos for free, which was so nice of him.  Tia Gabbie then bought me a chain and since then I continue to wear my Galo every chance I get!

Musicians at the Medieval Faire

My time with my aunts and uncles was drawing to a close, however.  We dropped Tatiana off at the bus station and then headed to Tojal, where my cousin (recently back from Hungary) and the rest of her family was waiting for me.  We arrived a little late to dinner, which only made me a little more anxious about the coming day-and-a-half.  But after saying goodbye to Tia Arminda and Tio Joaquim, I joined my other family for dinner.  At the table were my two cousins, Joana and Ana Rita (who acted as my translator throughout dinner) and Joana's boyfriend Tiago.  Then there was my uncle and my Aunt Maria do Carmo, who is my mother's cousin.  Her parents were also there: my great-aunt, or my grandmother's sister, and my great-uncle, or my grandfather's cousin.  Very confusing stuff, right there.

Speaking with this side of the family was much more difficult than speaking with my other tios and tias.  Perhaps it was because they had a stronger accent, but I found it very difficult to understand very much of what they were saying.  I had special trouble with my great-uncle, whose accent was impossible for me to decipher.  But my aunt Maria do Carmo was so nice and was very concerned that I like everything she had made for dinner (which, of course, I did. It was delicious!).  After ice cream, Ana Rita had to leave for a late shift at the club at which she worked, and I found out that Joana and Tiago were going to bring me out that night and visit the club.  Once I was just with them, though, I felt much more comfortable.  Tiago was playing The Killers (his favorite band) as he drove us back to Leiria and was very pleased that I was a fan.  We visited a Middle Eastern-themed tea shop which specialized in a whole bunch of flavored teas before heading over to Ana Rita's club.  It was pretty early so it wasn't very crowded.  We didn't stay too long either: Joana and Tiago had gone to the beach early that morning, so everyone was pretty tired.  Tiago dropped us off at Joana's house for the night.

Joana and I at Nazaré

The next morning was gratefully lazy.  We got up and hung around the house for a little bit.  I ate breakfast with Joana while my aunt continued making lunch.  I watched a little TV, got on the computer.  Ana Rita, who had obviously worked very late, got up just in time for lunch.  Tia Maria do Carmo had made chicken AND bacalhau for lunch, as she wasn't sure if I liked bacalhau or not.  After eating basically two lunches, we hung around the house a little bit with Ana Rita.  Tiago came by and we drove back to Batalha, where we explored the on-going Medieval Faire again.  After some coffee, we returned to Tojal, grabbed our beach stuff, and headed out again.  We stopped by a local assembly-type place, where Tia Maria do Carmo was already busy cooking for a party that night.  There we borrowed my uncle's car and drove to Nazaré.  It was a long drive, and by the time we got there it was already late afternoon.  We lazied around the beach for an hour or so before driving back to Tojal, changing for the party, and then heading over to the community party where I met quite a few new faces and ate dinner.  The food was delicious, of course, and after dinner my aunt and uncle told me that they would be driving me back to Coimbra themselves, as Joana was heading back as well for a summer internship.  Unfortunately Joana didn't live close to the University at all: instead, her apartment was across the river in Covões, where the hospital and medical school is located.  After dropping off her stuff, we headed back into the heart of Coimbra.  Despite my protestations, they all wanted to walk me all the way back up to my apartment.  I felt so bad, as of course my uncle wouldn't let me carry my suitcase myself.  After the long hike uphill, we said goodbye and parted ways.

Sadly I wasn't able to see my cousin after that, even though she was much closer.  Right afterward, finals began.  The next time I was able to contact her was a day or two before I had to leave, and she had work of her own that she couldn't abandon.  But I did have her and Ana Rita promise that they would visit the States as soon as they could so I could show them around MY home country.  Plus, they paid for everything when I was with them, and I need to pay them back! 

And thus ends this account.  Now THAT was a long post!

11: Birthday Week and Viseu

Now for the second blog of the day.

Birthday Dinner!

Fresh off the plane from Barcelona, I arrived in Coimbra just in time for the week of my birthday.  I absolutely love birthdays and am positive that I will continue to love them even when I get much older (what's not to love about a day celebrating to your very presence?).  For me, I tend to include the week surrounding my birthday as part of the celebration, and it was pretty easy to celebrate like that this week.  Somehow two very fun events were planned for the two nights before my birthday: Tuesday night was French/Belgian night, complete with champagne and free French fries, at a local club called "Duplex" and Wednesday night featured a midnight futebol game, where the Erasmus team, which included several friends of mine, played and lost to vicious Italy.  Then, of course, there was our trip to Viseu which began the day after.

Empty Dom Pedro's

But of course, all week I waited anxiously for Thursday morning.  March 24th, and I was finally 21 years old!  My last milestone birthday until the not-anxiously-anticipated 30th, and I had a fantastic day.  We only had one class, but since a university-wide strike was in effect that day, few students showed up and it barely counted.  I then got dressed far too early for my birthday dinner, watched my favorite movie (When Harry Met Sally, in case you were wondering) and then went to dinner with several friends at the infamous Dom Pedro's around 8 o'clock.  The owner was, of course, escatic to see us and, upon finding out it was my birthday, not only gave me beijinhos but took pictures of our dinner party both on my camera and on his own camera, to post on the Dom Pedro's Facebook page (how did I not know this existed?).  He was very adamant about taking high-quality pictures and it took about ten minutes before he was satisfied and returned my camera full-loaded.  Of course the restaurant was empty so no one was there to witness the blatant favoritism, but it was still highly awkward and hilarious.  But the awkward is only part of the charm and I still love that restaurant.  The owner even gave me a free half-bottle of wine on which he had written the date.  We had a delicious meal and my friends refused to let me pay (though I still should have contributed...), and then we headed out on the town. 

My Dom Pedro's wine

Mom, I know you aren't going to want to read the next sentence but: we drank quite a lot.  My friends and I hoped around Coimbra, meeting up with more people. Despite my insistence on staying out, my friends eventually broke me back to the apartment so I would avoid the probably copious amounts of trouble I could have gotten into.  Overall, a very good night and definitely appropriate for one's 21st birthday.

Out on the town for the big 21st.

Mom, you can resume reading.

Friday consisted of classes and packing, because we were leaving that afternoon with our program director for Viseu, Portugal.  This was meant to be a "viagem cultural," though in reality it seemed to have very little to do with the culture of Portugal.  Late Friday afternoon, Amy, Tatiana, and I arrived with Ana Paula and her boyfriend Francisco at Hotel Montebelo, a five-star hotel and spa.  I'm not saying I'm not grateful because the hotel was absolutely gorgeous and amazing, but was it truly "cultural"?  I think not.  This seemed glaringly obvious to us, especially when we spent several hours in the overwise empty spa, where Amy and Tatiana took turns getting massages while I hopped between the sauna, Turkish bath, and pool with Ana Paula, who was in a bikini.  Good.

One half of our giant room

I told you it was made entirely of ice...

That night, Ana Paula took us to the Palácio de Gelo, which is not a palace or castle but a mall in Viseu.  We paid for our own dinners in the food court, visited a few shops, and then went to the Bar do Gelo, a bar made entirely of ice.  This was paid for by the program, you know, since it is Portuguese culture.  It was rather neat though, despite the unflattering black jackets and the freezing temperatures.  We sipped vodka beverages with Ana Paula from cups made of ice while the bartender cursed us under his breath and pulled his hat lower over his ears (we were the only ones there).  After the ice bar, we returned to the hotel and slept in our beautiful room.

Ice seat at the Bar do Gelo Viseu

Buffet Carnage

The next morning we discovered the most amazing breakfast buffet known to man.  Any kind of bread you could want, pasteis de nata, cake, fruit, cereal, meats, eggs, vegetables, excessive amounts of jam, a whole leg of ham... and more.  We gorged ourselves before leaving with Ana Paula to visit Santa Maria de Viseu, a beautiful, dark, and slightly moist 12th century church in the center of town.  There we stopped in the Museu de Vasco Grão, whose name refers to a Portuguese painter that they highlight throughout the museum.  The museum had amazing amounts of religious art and sculpture from all around Portugal, and while I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside, I was amazed by the detail on the wooden sculpture.  It was actually mostly wooden, with very little stone.  They even had relics, which grossed my friends out: "Why would they want to keep someone's bone and touch them?!"  I guess it just makes more sense to someone raised Catholic... though I couldn't explain why anyone would want to do such a thing either.  :)

Inside Santa Maria de Viseu

After this museum we went into the church itself, which was beautiful.  For its age, it was amazingly preserved.  It was absolutely beautiful inside, though I could feel myself getting a little churched-out.  It was a lot of religious art to take in after such a short amount of time, and by the time we also explored the inside of the Santa Casa de Misericórdia across the street, both its chapel and museum, I would have been very happy never to look at another sculpture of Saint Sebastian pierced with arrows, Jesus on the Crucifix, or "Virgin with Child" for several years.  Though we left soon after to walk around and do a little bit of shopping, there was yet more religious art in my future.

Santa Casa de Misericórdia

When we tried to leave Misericórdia, it began to rain excessively and, with our umbrellas safely packed back at the hotel, Tatiana and I huddled under Amy's umbrella as we wandered the streets of Viseu and stopped in several cheap shops with Ana Paula, who seemed equally excited about the shopping as she did about the museums.  She even bought a pair of boots on sale and would intermittently proclaim her love for her "botas bonitas" for the rest of the day. 

Somewhere in Viseu

At the Tesouro: Isabel, patron saint of Coimbra

After our walk, we returned to Santa Maria de Viseu and went into the Tesouro de Catedral Museum, which would have been far more impressive if we hadn't spent all morning looking at religious art.  By this time, Francisco had joined up with us again (he had returned to Porto after driving us to Viseu), and we had a "culture lunch," which consisted of some sort of baculhau, some sort of other meat, and línguas de porco: pig tongues.  Oh yes.  And I can safely say that they were absolutely delicious, especially since Francisco seems to have taken a liking to me kept putting more and more tongues on my plate. It felt like he maid it his personal duty that I speak as much Portuguese around him as possible, correcting my pronunciation of "chávena," (which was appreciated) and making me recount the legend of the Gallo de Barcelos (which was not).  After that lunch, I was so full that I wanted to die, and Amy and Tatiana felt the same.  We returned to the hotel, but I couldn't nap the food away: it was time for my own massage.  While I would rather not go into detail about my very first professional massage, I will simply say that it involved paper underwear and a very friendly Brazilian masseuse.  At least she told me that I spoke Portuguese very well.

We wasted more time in the spa area, which all of the other residents of the hotel must have discovered that day, and glared at the French men in the jacuzzi until they left.  Then we returned to the mall that night, where Ana Paula and Francisco left us to shop.  We ate dinner in the food court around midnight (yes, the mall was open until midnight!), where Tatiana and I finally experienced "Telepizza."  This pizza company has been a source of amusement for us for some time as we often see their delivery boys on logo-ed bikes delivering pizzas throughout the badly-paved streets of Coimbra, but their pizza was absolutely delicious.  Mr. Pizza, you have competition.

TELEPIZZA

We also discovered a crepe place in the mall after Telepizza.  Thickest crepes I've ever eaten.  For the second time that day, I was too full to move, but somehow I managed to get back downstairs and hop into a taxi back to the hotel. 

CREPE

The next morning we returned to the magical breakfast buffet before packing and checking out of the Montebelo.  I been feeling a little sick throughout the entire week but, as it was my birthday week,  I had refused to let it interfere with my enjoyment of my 21st or this trip.  However, in what was probably a combination of the lack of sleep, amount of alcohol consumed, the mental exhaustion of speaking Portuguese almost 24/7 that entire weekend, and rain from the previous day, my cold came rushing on me that morning and I was rather miserable.  As we got into Francisco's car, I  thought we were returning right to Coimbra and was excited to get into my bed and pajamas, but that was not the case.  After a very curvy trip down tiny streets, we stopped in a town called Caramulo for their museum.  I only wish I felt better, but as I wandered through their very neat automobile exhibit and their World War II propaganda gallery, I was just not having it.  The top floor, which included a ton of religious art, didn't help.

Churchill Pot-luck vs. Hitler Humble Pie

Rolls Royce, my dream car.

We got back in the car to find a place to eat before returning to Coimbra, but it took so long to find a place that I ended up falling asleep in the car.  Ana Paula was dead set on eating sandes de leitão, which is a sandwich with suckling pig, and while we passed restaurant after restaurant advertising leitão, we didn't stop until we found one with a sign specifically with such sandes.  I'm not a huge fan of pork, but by the time we got our sandwiches I ate it so fast that I could barely taste it.  I had told them about our court's tradition of pig roasts earlier in the weekend, so they were very interested to know about the differences between our usual pig and the leitão.  Even though Ana Paula had ordered for us, this was apparently not a culture lunch and we had to pay for it. 

Frustrated and in debt, I got back in the car and, after some traffic, finally Amy, Tatiana, and I were back in our apartment.  We haven't left since.  While I still feel a bit sick, I can definitely feel my cold subsiding.  Viseu was a cute little city, but I am very glad to be back in Coimbra. 

And now, after several hours of blogging and uploading photos, I think its time to make some dinner. 

5: Classes Begin

02/11/2011


My dad recently told me that while he loved my blog, "the one thing that I believe would make your Blog better would be more positive news."  I was a total Debbie Downer in my last post, so let me say earnestly that I'm here today liven up the mood.


After my last post, I was obviously very distraught and uninspired.  But after I got back to my room and calmed down a bit, things definitely began to look up.  Basically I figured that if the classes were too easy, I would be able to test out after the first week, and if they were appropriate, I would stick with it and be able to review the bits of the language that I wasn't 100% on.  Ana Paula told me that I could definitely attend the Portuguese History class, which is one of the culture classes that is offered only in Intermediate, which was basically the only reason I wasn't able to get into the Intermediate level in the first place.  Plus, today I met a student who had studied at Coimbra last semester as well, and she was still in Beginner but spoke very well.  So, who knows how they separate these levels.  After experiencing my classes these last two days, I would be content with staying in my level or moving up.  We'll see how next week goes.


Anyway, after the test and the breakdown, we returned to the dorm and I watched the new How I Met Your Mother episode (ah, the miracle of the Internet).  We got in touch with the West Point students and, while the girls were planning on making dinner that night, Dan was all for coming out with us to find a restaurant close by.  But despite the copious amounts of banks, dentists, and clothing stores near our dorm, there are no real restaurants... even most of the cafes were closed.  The only place open for dinner was a Chinese restaurant...  But, Portuguese-Chinese food?  Well, there is a first time for everything.


It was strange trying to order Chinese food in a Portuguese restaurant, and thankfully the menu came in both Portuguese and English.  There was something strange though: while other places on the menu definitely included the word "cogumelos," or mushrooms, there were some dishes that were described as coming with "fungo chinês," or, well, Chinese fungus.  Curiosity almost got the better of me but in the end, I didn't order any fungo chinês... Next time, Kang Le.


There was no one in the restaurant when we arrived (this common trope is starting to convince me that Portuguese people don't eat anything except for pastries after 2 PM), and only a few parties showed up before we left, so the waiters were practically at our shoulders the entire time we were there.  They even took our plates away before asking us whether we were indeed finished or not, though thankfully we had devoured most of the food by then.  We then escaped the hovering waiters and returned to Polo III, where Ashleigh and Barbara were just finishing up dinner.  It was a party though: a few other people on their floor had also chipped in and they had all made a massive meal.  We stayed around and offered our quarts of ice cream to anyone to might like some and met Marta (Portuguese), Felipe (Dan's Brazilian roommate), and Otavio (Brazilian as well).  We were with them for quite a long time, speaking back and forth in English and Brazilian.  Felipe is a complete character, and he was excited to know that I was also a theater person, as he used to do modern dance.  Tatiana, Amy, and I were a little jealous that the West Point students had been roomed with Portuguese-speaking students, but hopefully we will be able to join a few of their dinner parties and befriend them as well.


Thursday morning marked the beginning of classes, and while I was planning on attending both the Intermediate and Elementary level of Portuguese, the classes were all at the same time so I stuck with my preassigned Elementary.  My first class Língua Portuguesa, in which we will do a lot of work with grammar and such.  The professor passed out a few magazine articles to read, and while I was a little frustrated with my partners, who basically refused to speak more than a sentence to me, but overall the class went very well.  


I also recognized someone in the class who I had not expect to be there: Ruben is from Germany and his speaking skills sounded fantastic when I met him on the day of the placement exam.  I thought he would definitely get into the Superior Level or at least Intermediate, but he was in class with me.  He recognized me as well and we realized that the our weaknesses were the other's strengths: he could speak and comprehend but wasn't very good at grammar and conjugation, and I can't form a coherent sentence in less than a minute but I could tell you the present subjunctive of "ver" in a moment (its veja, vejas, veja, vejamos, vejam, in case you didn't believe me).  We decided to be study buddies and try to move into Intermediate together.  We were both in Turmo 3, the highest level of Elementary, so we also had our Laboratório class together later in the afternoon.  Many of the foreign students drop this class because it doesn't count for any credits, but I think I'm going to stick with it.  It's basically its a classroom environment for practicing Portuguese and overcoming your own personal deficiencies with the language: we had the ability to practice speaking, pronunciation, grammar, vocabulary... all in this first class.  I was glad to have some background with phonetics because the second half of the class was spelling out common sounds, and in the process I found out that I was saying the verb ending -am incorrectly, so that's good. 


During this class, however, we did an exercise where we wrote down our nationality, interests, qualities about our personality, etc. and then passed the papers around.  From the random new paper, you had to pick out its original owner, but this took forever because half the class is Chinese!  All these students are from Macau, where Portuguese and Chinese are the two official languages, and it was basically impossible to figure out who our person was when all it says is, "Sou chinesa.  Gosta de ler e comprar roupas."  There are also two Japanese students, German Ruben, myself and another older American woman, and a student from Bulgaria, Turkey, and Belgium, and Spain respectively.  Obviously we were all easily identified.  


After class, Ruben and I went to the bar/cafe in the Faculdade de Letras (Yes, their Humanities building has its own bar... Reasons why Portugal has a terrible economy but remains awesome #478) and "studied."  I put it in quotes not to denote an opposite or inappropriate meaning, but because our version of studying was basically just speaking in Portuguese together.  He would ask me questions about random things and I would have to respond with different verb tenses, vocabulary, etc.  Another boy in our level, Japanese Yugi (this spelling is guesstimated, but it sounds a lot like "Eugene" when he says it), invited himself into the study session, and while I can't understand a word he says with his very heavy Japanese accent, I'm sure he needed the practice just as much as I did.  After about an hour, we switched and I showed Ruben how to conjugate the present subjunctive and quizzed him on the irregular forms.  Hopefully we'll be able to study like this more often.  I felt much better about my speaking and pronunciation after that hour and a half.


After I took the bus back home, I realized how completely exhausted I was.  Amy had been sick earlier in the week, and despite my effort I realized I must be coming down with the same thing.  I was so disappointed because Tatiana and I were supposed to accompany the West Point students on a night on the town guided by Felipe, who was going to show them the popular bars and clubs in the area.  But after Tatiana and I made dinner (the stoves, again, proved to make things difficult, but our pasta came out delicious regardless), we realized that going out that night was not an option.  So we sent our apologies to Dan, put our pajamas on, and watched "Guess Who" before passing out earlier than usual.  That night, we also made our first attempt at doing laundry, though clothes are currently hanging all over the room since the drier takes almost two hours.  At least Tatiana finally has socks now! :)


Today was another day of classes, though my first and only class, Conversação, wasn't until 2 PM.  I slept in, got dressed, and then promptly got on the wrong bus.  The bus system in Coimbra doesn't have a northbound/southbound type of system like the ones in DC, but are simply a circuit.  There are places where the buses cross paths but are traveling the opposite way on the circuit, and I happened to catch the 29 on the same such route.  What is usually a seven-minute bus ride became about 40 minutes, but I arrived at the Praça da República just in time for lunch at one of the university's many cantinas with Tatiana, Dan, Felipe, Amy, and her boyfriend James, who is visiting for the weekend.  At least lunch was only 2.45 €!  


Now class is over and the weekend is just beginning.  However, most of the students go home on the weekends, so the city is pretty dead.  I'm hoping that Ruben and some other students abroad will be around this weekend, as the West Point students will be spending the next two days in Porto.  As for tonight, we are hoping to go to a cafe which has both free wifi and fadistas (performers of fado, the traditional music of Portugal).  This post has been rather devoid of pictures, so I hope I'll get some good ones tonight and this weekend.  


Isn't content Alex so much better to read?