18: Porto, Finals, and Farewell

It has come.  My very last Portugal post.

What a strange thing to realize.  Yes, I've been in the United States for about two weeks already, but I can't believe that, with this last blog, so officially ends my time abroad.  But before I get all sentimental and weepy on you, first let me tell you about our second official "culture tour" of Portugal.  Ana Paula strikes again!

Amy and Ana Paula in front of the Torre

So Ana Paula hadn't been very aggressive about scheduling our second trip around Portugal.  As opposed to our stellar trip to Viseu, this next one was only to be a day trip but finding the time proved to be pretty challenging for her.  Though, to be honest, scheduling was a little tricky: both Amy and Tatiana had their boyfriends visiting before the semester ended, and finals were looming ahead.  Finally we settled on Saturday, May 28th, despite the fact that all three of us had a 10-page paper due in Ana Paula's literature class three days afterward.

Inside the Igreja dos Clérigos

That morning, we met up with the University bus driver, who drove us across the river, where we picked up Ana Paula at her apartment (apparently she gets diva treatment).  We all managed to fall asleep on the ride to Porto, as we had been up working on our papers (and/or procrastinating into the wee small hours of the morning) the night before.  Our tour of Porto started right in front of Porto's famous Torre dos Clérigos, where Ana Paula bought us tickets and promptly left us to climb the tower alone... which was just fine with us.  The tower's passageways were tiny inside, which made climbing up to the top both fun and claustrophobic.  The views from the top were amazing.  I felt almost as though we should have done the tower last in our visit, not first: seeing the entirety of Porto from its highest point seemed to be a good summary for the trip, not a good introduction.  After we descended the tower, we entered the huge circular Igreja dos Clérgios, which was absolutely beautiful and full of fantastic saint statues.  I don't know why, but I absolutely love those wooden figures.  Perhaps it is because our home is completely and un-Portuguese-ly devoid of such figures (and I'm sure my mom is very proud of this fact).

Lello & Irmão

Ana Paula was waiting for us outside the church, but we took a quick detour from Ana Paula's planned day and visited a old beautiful bookstore Lello & Irmão.  Amy had recently visited Porto with her family, and she told us about the bookstore and, of course, we all desperately wanted to visit.  We weren't allowed to take pictures inside, but I found a few great pictures online here and here.

University of Porto

We walked back to Ana Paula, passing the University of Porto (the first and oldest university in Porto), before getting back into the bus and heading over to the Sé do Porto, a great old church with a museum with old relics and priest's ornamental clothing, etc.  After exploring the cathedral, we hopped onto a tour bus that whipped us, and quite a few American tourists, around the city and its sites, churches, and monuments.  There was a pretty good audio tour that played in several languages throughout the tour, so I actually had a pretty good time on the hot tour train, though I don't remember much about the buildings in my pictures.  

Sé do Porto

The front of our tour "train"

Good thing I paid for this disgusting thing myself.

After the tour finished, we (meaning Ana Paula) decided to wander the streets of Porto to find a place that served francesinha, a kind of sauce-drenched meat sandwich for which Porto is famous.  Ana Paula ordered for us and again waited until after the meal to inform us that we were paying for our own meal.  Her boyfriend Francisco then met up with us and made a point of correcting every error in our Portuguese, which was delightful.  Oh, Ana Paula, you lovely woman.


Our "day trip" was basically over after our 9 Euro lunch.  We walked back to the bus and drove back to Coimbra, where Tatiana and Amy fell asleep again and I took embarrassing photos of them (as only one's best friend should).  Once we finally got back home, we weren't too upset that our day trip was only a half-day trip.  We had quite a lot of work ahead of us and hadn't been too enthusiastic about the trip in the first place.  When I return to Portugal, I am definitely going back to Porto again and really visiting.  I still haven't been able to get to many places in the north of the country, so Porto, Braga, and the Douro Valley... I'm coming for you!


Exams suddenly took up all of our time.  I finished the paper half an hour before it was due (it takes a long time to translate a paper properly!) and slipped an English and Portuguese version under my professor's door.  Thankfully, my History exam had taken place the week before (which I recently found out I totally aced), though that also meant that I had to venture forth into exam period without being able to enjoy my favorite class.  But the rest of my exams went rather smoothly: Composição/Língua Portuguesa went well, and while I was extremely nervous for our oral exam for Conversação/Laboratório, I was paired up (miraculously!) with Amy and had a great conversation with our professors about acting, theaters, and film (though, of course, I know nothing about these three things...).  Our Geography exam was a little difficult, but I could not be too worried about it.  How could a class that only started half-way through the semester really matter?  I did very well on all of my exams, though I'm still waiting on news about my paper. Wish me luck!

Amy and I in traje with Tatiana. Love!

Our exams were finished by May 31st, but I only had one day to finish packing up before my flight.  This was made a little more difficult because, at the last minute, Amy and I had bought the official Coimbra traje, or student uniform.  Well, technically, Amy brought me along to the Toga shop and bought herself a complete uniform, and while I had adamantly decided that it wasn't worth it and I didn't need it, I tried on Amy's uniform and immediately fell in love.  Hours after we visited the uniform shop, we returned to buy another one.  We decided that we were going to wear the traje on our last night out in Coimbra, which was commonplace for students.  We often saw Coimbra students in their uniforms in bars and clubs, so we certainly didn't stick out.  That night, we dressed ourselves in our jacket, skirt, shirt, tie, tights, and a cape that, as I found out at the airport, weighed 3 kilograms by itself.  But it was completely worth the price and the hassle.

Oh Dom Pedro's, you never fail to be creepy.

And what a great night we had.  Decked out in skirt and cape, Amy and I headed to good old Dom Pedro's with Tatiana, her boyfriend Laurent who was visiting from France, Dan, and Barbara.  In true Dom Pedro's fashion, the restaurant was empty and Mr. Dom Pedro was awkwardly friendly.  When he found that it was my last night in Coimbra, his friendliness escalated into straight up creepiness: he asked Laurent in French if I had a boyfriend, then proceeded to get his camera and had Dan take a picture of the two of us.  Thankfully he left early that night and he wasn't our waiter for long.  Apparently he is going to email me our picture together, and if I ever do receive such a picture, I will definitely have to change my email.

Fight to the Death!

Thankfully, the night only got better after that very strange dinner.  We stopped back at our apartment, where we drank some wine and sangria before proceeding to the Shots bar, which was empty, even for a Wednesday night.  We visited several bars that night, stopping at the Luis Camões monument to take pictures atop the stone lion, then went to the Academica bar, then back up to Sé Velha and its Cabido Bar.  Laurent and I even had a Ninja Showdown in the middle of the square, which I, of course, won.  Late that night, we finally got back to the apartment, where I caught a few hours sleep before getting up early that morning to catch my flight back to the United States.

Alex emerges VICTORIOUS!

The day of traveling that followed is only further proof that I should never ever travel by myself.

That morning I stuffed the rest of my things into my suitcase and, with Amy's gracious help, met a cab at Sé Velha at 7:30 AM with my two 50-lb suitcases.  The cab driver took forever getting to the train station, so by the time we arrived I had missed my train.  Thankfully another train was heading to Porto 45 minutes later.  Once on this new train, I set the alarm on my phone just in case I fell asleep on the way.  Of course, I did and of course, probably for the first time in Portuguese history, the train arrived early.  I woke up, looked out the window, and saw the Porto train station.  I rushed up to the front of the car and struggled to get my suitcases out of the train in time, but just as I reached the doors, they closed and the train began to scoot out of the station.  Terrified, I tried to figure out what I should do.  I had no idea what the next stop would be.  I was already later than I should have been, and I prayed that I wouldn't miss my flight.

Ten minutes later, the trains stopped in the town of Famalição, a place I had never heard of before.  I got out and dragged my suitcases to the station proper, where I called my mother at 5 AM her time.  Eventually we decided that taking a cab was the best solution, and so into a cab I went.  It was a 40 minute, and 40 Euro, cab ride to the Porto airport, but I arrived in time to check my bags (one of which was too heavy, so I ended up walking through the airport with my computer bag, purse, and cape slung over my shoulder), find my gate, go through "Portuguese customs" (where they glanced at my passport and waved me through), and catch my flight just as they were boarding.  I was exhausted, but no matter how hard I tried I could not fall asleep.  Instead I watched three movies (The Fighter, Tangled, and Love and Other Drugs) to pass the time.  When we finally landed in Newark, NJ, it was about 8 PM my time and 3 PM American time.  Bordering on delirious, I checked my phone as I left the flight and found out that my connecting flight to Washington, DC was cancelled.

The next flight was at 7:45 PM, four hours later, but by the time Continental was able to actually get a crew for the plane, the flight had been pushed back to 9:25.  This, mind you, was a mere 45-minute flight.  In the time I waited around the airport, I could have driven back home by car.  My contacts were struggling to leave my eyes, my mind was basically asleep, and my only pleasure was the sassy dialogue between a delightful (and extremely disgruntled) gay couple who had been waiting to get to D.C. since 2 PM that afternoon.  We finally boarded the plane and got on our way, though one last strange thing had to happen: trapped on that tiny plane, I was finally nodding off to sleep when the man next to me, happily asleep, accidentally let his arm slip and slammed his elbow into my side.  Feeling as though I had been punched, I stared incredulously at him as he continued to sleep quietly beside me.

My parents were waiting at the airport when I landed.  Finding me standing deliriously next to the baggage claim, my mother's first words to me were, "Welcome home!  You look terrible!"  We collected my bags and brought them to the car.  Waiting in the car was my father as well as a Chipotle burrito.

I love my parents.

I love these people.

And so I was back at home.  It took a few days to remember that most people speak English here in the United States.  The day after I got back, my friend Eric and I went to a Subway and I almost jumped in surprise when the girls in a booth next to us began speaking in English.  Even now in New York City, I find myself saying "Com licença" instead of "Excuse me" when I am moving through a crowd.  Though, technically, my neighborhood doesn't speak too much English either.  I live in Washington Heights (for you theater people, yes, the neighborhood that inspired the musical In the Heights), which largely Dominican.  I don't hear too much English when I am walking around the neighborhood, and several times a few of my neighbors have assumed I speak Spanish and seem a little confused when I answer in Portuguese.  I am strangely proud that many Heights residents think I speak Spanish though.  I really need to start learning my other peoples' language, and this might just be the perfect opportunity.

My Room in NYC

So now, I am in New York City, the most iconic American place in the world despite the fact that few actual Americans seem to live there.  And while I truly and honestly love living here and working here (my internship is absolutely amazing), I do still miss Portugal.  Yesterday, as I was traveling between the office and the theater, I decided to try and find a cafe.  There are several things that I truly miss from Portugal, and the plethora of cafes and the subsequent cafe lifestyle is definitely one of them.  I finally found one and inside I saw they had a Segafredo coffee machine.  These were extremely popular in Portugal and just the sight of one of them made me so happy.  

I miss the food in Portugal.  I miss my family in Portugal.  I miss the city of Coimbra and the wonderful friends that I made there.  I miss speaking Portuguese every day.  And while I am happy to be back in the United States, I truly cannot wait until I can return to that wonderful little country.  It is true that Portugal is far from perfect, and I really do feel as though it is mine in a way.  I will always think back fondly on my semester there.  Always.

But now, it is time to focus on my new and very different life in New York City.  I will probably be starting a new NYC Blog sometime soon, and if I do, I will post a link here so that you can follow along with my crazy adventures.  I've only been here for two weeks and already so much has happened!

But, until then, thank you for reading my humble little Portugal blog.  I hope that my accounts inspired you to either want to go to Portugal if you haven't already or want to return to my favorite little European country. 

Vou ter saudades sempre para ti, Portugal.  Te amo.

One last question: Is my flag big enough?

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. 

3: Arrival

02/6/2011

I finally have a good slice of time and an Internet connection, so its time for the very first post that I’m writing from Portugal.

Azulejos

This country is absolutely beautiful.  My program is through the University of Coimbra, which is one of the oldest schools in the world: founded in 1290 by the Pope, some of the buildings on campus are ancient and beautiful.  The Universidade Velha, the oldest part of the University, has a courtyard which looks over the entire city and the river.  One of the best views I’ve ever seen.   But honestly, the entire city of Coimbra is beautiful.  The houses are light colors with red roofs, black grates, and unkempt white-washed walls.  There is amazing tiles everywhere, decorating the outside of houses, the inside walls.  So many houses and buildings are bordered with these blue tile designs that are about as high as your shoulder.  These tiles are called “azulejos” and I wish the entire world could be covered in them.  But then again, I am a bit prone to exaggeration.

A gift store in the Porto airport

The trip here was crazy.  I was up for a day and a half straight and used every single modern mode of transportation other than a motorcycle.  Thursday: Drive to DC to get my visa at 9 AM; drive to Union Station; take a MARC train to BWI Airport, where my mom picked me up and brought me to the terminal; flight to Newark at 1:40 PM; Shuttle from terminal B to terminal C; flight to Porto with new friend Amy, another person in my program; flight from Porto to Lisbon at 7:40 AM (Portuguese time.  American time: 2:40 AM); Taxi from Lisbon airport to train station; Train to Coimbra B station; Taxi to Polo III, my home for the next five months.  So in all:

2 cars

2 taxis

3 airplanes

1 train

1 shuttle

My room!

I can’t sleep on planes, so by the time we got to Polo III, Amy and I were absolutely exhausted.  Carlos, who runs the dorm and who is basically a male House Mother, gave us our keys (we have about six to different locks all over the residence), but I was too tired to understand English, let alone Portuguese, so I found out what those keys were for much later in the day.  I emptied my luggage, took a shower, and crashed for two hours.  That night, Amy and I stumbled around the surrounding streets looking for some sort of grocery store or CVS-equivalent, but only found cafes, clothing stores, and an inappropriate amount of dentists (seriously, there must be a dentist on every street in this city).  It was in a gas station that we randomly ran into the third girl in our program, Tatiana, and her father Tony (who is Azorean) and his friend Mario (who currently lives in Lisbon).  Because the school hadn’t given us any information other than our residence (and our advisor here at the school was away the very weekend we were all arriving), Tony and Mario were our saviors.  Though they forced us to speak in Portuguese most of the time we were with them, they brought us out to dinner to a restaurant called “Dom Pedro’s.”  It was absolutely empty inside, but the two waiters were so happy to see us that we received the best service I’ve ever seen.  We ate there again on Sunday night.  I think Amy, Tatiana, and I have a “place.”  We’re already planning on going there for my birthday.  Cinco estrelas para Dom Pedro’s!

The next day (Saturday), we three decided to explore the city.  We went to a Universidade Velha, which is the oldest part of the school (as the name suggests).  When I visited with my family in 2008, this was my favorite place because of the library, which seriously resembles the Beauty and the Beast library.  But we found out that the ticket required to see the library and the other really neat sites at the Universidade Velha was half as expensive if you show them your student ID card, so we are going to go back when we have those.  We also went to the Botanical Gardens (o Jardim Botanico), which were beautiful and will be even better come Spring.  After the Gardens, we walked down the hill and ended up in the far East of the city and had to make our way all the way back near the center.  We found our way to Mondego Park, where a small row of restaurants overlook the river.  The cheapest was the “Irish Pub,” which plays music alternating between traditional Irish folk music and contemporary Irish musicians like U2.  Unfortunately the service was terrible: the first hour we sat waiting for a menu, and the second hour we sat waiting for the check.  Coimbra is giving Ireland a bad name.

After the longest lunch ever, walked Tatiana to her father’s hotel, and then Amy and I tried taking the bus back to our dorm and succeeded more or less (we got off two stops before we should have, but we got back just fine).  Later, Tatiana, her father, Mario, and their friend Helder (also Portuguese) picked us up for dinner.  We ended up eating right next door to the Irish Pub (awkward) in a restaurant called A Portuguesa (to see the busty mascot, you can probably just go to their website aportuguesa.pt).  It was much more expensive than Dom Pedro or the Irish Pub, so I felt bad when the men again got the check.  However, I did get to not only talk about Brown with Helder, who lived in Pawtucket when he came to America, but also got to try “peixe do sal,” which was delicious.  Basically, it is an entire fish cooked under five pounds of salt.  It sounds disgusting and completely unhealthy, but it is entirely the opposite.  The salt acts as a sort of buffer, and the fish cooks inside its own juices.  He let us all try some and I loved it.  Apparently it is a specialty in Nazare, so I hope I can order some when it gets warm enough for the beach.

That night, Amy, Tatiana and I decided to explore the dorm and figure out where the laundry rooms and such were, and ended up with a very fun and useful friend.  He is Nasif from Bangledesh, and he is working for his Masters degree in Polo II, another Coimbra building on the other side of the city (which makes his living in Polo III very inconvienent).  He spoke very good English but was excited to meet native speakers, so we sat down with him and spoke with him for a very long time about subjects ranging from religion to school to clubs in Coimbra.  Because we still had no information from the school and no Internet, he let us know a few tidbits about the bus route and such.  Hopefully we get to hang out with him again.  He was very funny and, despite having a propensity for saying “bus stoppages,” he cursed in English very well.

Praça da República

The next day, the very first thing we did was go down to the McDonalds at the Praça da República and use the wifi.  Neither Tatiana, Amy, nor myself had been on the Internet for days.  I wasn’t on long enough to write and post anything.  Notifications, messages, and emails tend to pile up when you don’t take care of them properly.  Then we met up with Tony and Mario and went to a shopping center (called Coimbra Shopping), got phones and room basics, then returned to the city and explored the northwestern area, found the Coimbra A train station, and sat at a café and had tea, coffee, and pastries.  We go to cafés quite a lot, and now I understand why Europeans are deemed stereotypically lazy.  But they just like their coffee!  Mario was so funny that day.  Apparently his girlfriend is a high school teacher, and one of her students, Jorge, is a young doctor in Coimbra.  He had been trying to set up Tatiana, but he set his sights on me.  He told me that Jorge was a “gatao,” a very attractive man, and that we should call him up as he was in the city.  I now refer to Jorge as meu marido futuro and meu amor da vida, and whenever we see a particularly strange or awkward young man, we pretend we have found him.  I wonder if we will ever meet this infamous Jorge while we are studying here.

As I mentioned earlier, we ended up going to Dom Pedro’s again for dinner.  The waiters were so happy to see us again that they kept giving us things after we had paid for our meal, like free almond liqueur, matches, and every number they could possibly have.  I even signed up for their Internet mailing list.  I have a feeling that I might be the only one receiving their specials.

Unfortunately that was Mario and Tony’s last night in Coimbra, which was sad.  I hated to see them go.  They were so nice and fun and such a help!  I hope we can visit with Mario when we go to Lisbon.  Tomorrow we meet with Ana Paula Arnaut, our completely absent advisor, at 9:30 in the morning.  Hopefully it will be a good start to a good week.