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?

16: Queima das Fitas

I'm finally back with a much more upbeat blog post (because God knows we all need to be more positive nowadays).


Queima das Fitas, or "The Burning of the Ribbons," is the biggest student celebration in Europe... and it happens right in my little city of Coimbra, Portugal.  As I'm sure I've mentioned before, Coimbra is Portugal's first and oldest university and it has quite a few very old traditions.  Queima isn't a tradition that stretches back to the university's founding in the 13th century but it is at least one hundred years old and celebrates the senior's (or finalistas) graduation and the burning of their school ribbons as a symbol of such commencement.  The 8-day celebration (a day for each department at the University) starts on the Friday of May with a midnight Serenata in the wee small hours of the morning.  From then on it is complete madness in the city: mayhem, drunkenness, debauchery, and all that follows.  I sincerely doubt several of my friends here would remember the week if they didn't have incriminating photos to help them piece together the events of each day. :)

Tacos for Cinco de Mayo!

 The Thursday before Queima was actually Cinco de Mayo, so with the Midnight Serenata that night it felt as though the two party traditions of my heritages were coming together for a truly epic night.  After a "Mexican dinner" (thanks to an overpriced El Paso taco kit), Tatiana, Amy and I joined forces with Barbara and Ashleigh, split a bottle of wine, and headed to the Midnight Serenata.

Fadistas singing on the steps of Sé Velha

The square was packed at 11 PM, though we weren't surprised in the slightest.  Students in full Coimbra uniform had been waiting since the afternoon on the steps of Sé Velha, and Amy had seen them receive a pizza from a delivery boy sometime around 3 PM.  We stopped and bought individual half-bottles of Barbara and Ashleigh's favorite Portuguese wine, Mateus.  I've decided that I have family connections to this winery.

Mateus wine for everyone!

After dodging far too many drunk Coimbra students (the guys were very excited to see us and the girls glared as if their looks could kill), we found a pocket were a few recognizable Erasmus faces were stationed and enjoyed the concert when it began at, you guessed it, midnight.  We weren't sure exactly how long the concert was going to be, but with the help of Mateus we ended up enjoying the somber fado celebration quite a lot.  After stopping back at our apartment, Tatiana and I headed back out at 2 AM for the first real Queima das Fitas festivities: a party underneath the Quimica (Chemistry) and Física (Physics) departments.  The rest of the night got a little crazy... all I will tell you is that I met Tatiana back at the apartment at 6:30 AM and enjoyed delicious grilled cheeses before falling asleep and definitely missing my 9 AM class the next morning.

The Gates of Heaven.

The Stage

Ashleigh and THE CANDY

Friday night marked the first night of the "Noites do Parque," which took place across the river in a huge area.  Each night there was a giant concert, where the opening act usually began around midnight and the headliner graced the stage around 1 or 2 AM.  The first night featured The Editors as the headliner, and while they were great we didn't stay at the concert the entire time.   The facility was huge: near the stage was a giant complex for food, souvenirs, and beer.  Behind the food were three enormous tents, each with its own DJ blasting dance music.  And of course, port-a-potties and public urinals tucked out of sight.  That night Amy, myself, Barbara, and Ashleigh got giant bags of candy.  There were people all over the place handing out random things for free, and we ended up with pink balloons and condoms whose wrappers called attention to human trafficking.  We also bought delicious sangria from a booth sponsored by Bigorna, a favorite bar close to our apartment.

A shining beacon in the night.

The next day I went to visit my family with Amy, but I'll talk about my adventures with my family both that Saturday and this past weekend in my next blog.  When we returned, Tatiana and I headed out to the Noites do Parque again, where we watched Brazilian musicans Marcelinho da Lua and Marcelo D2, who were both fantastic and high-energy.

Concert-goers.

The next day was what most would call the highlight of Queima das Fitas: o Cortejo.  O Cortejo is a huge parade where students from all of the different departments create giant floats that traditionally feature some sort of political, social, or cultural satire about contemporary Portugal.  From these floats, each the color representing the department (yellow for Medicine, dark blue for Humanities, red for Law, etc), students already drenched in beer, liquor, water, and juice pour these things from the sides into other student's open mouths or drop cans and bottles into their waiting hands.  The parade starts at the Old University, continues down the hill, turns around Praça de Republica, and continues through the city.  We practically traced its path, as we saw many of the floats waiting up at the university.  There the students first got drenched by their friends and colleagues, who poured and sprayed whole cans on one another.

Classy.

While we were no stranger to the Coimbra University uniform, this was the first day that we saw the finalistas decked out in their dress uniform: sans cape, both the boys and girls had black jackets with lapels covered in colored satin (the color depended on your department) with a flower for emphasis button on their chest.  They also had colored top hats and colored walking sticks.  It is tradition to hit each senior's top hat three times (and hard!) with the walking stick (for good luck?), so most of the students had huge dents in the top front of their hats.  I was pretty jealous of their uniforms, though not so much of the hat abuse.

I didn't have any good up-close pictures myself.  How great are these uniforms though?

We walked down the Escadas Monumentais and met up with Ashleigh and Barbara to watch the parade in motion.  Absolute chaos.  If I had a Euro for the amount of times I watched someone fall down in the street right in front of me, I would be rich.  Everyone was drenched in alcohol, completely drunk, and dancing through the streets.  And this wasn't just students!  Young people (and quite a lot of older people too!) from all over the world were on the street, dancing in the parade or dodging the sprays of beer on the side lines.  As the floats passed, students tossed cans of beer to the people below.  Every once and while they would also throw bags of chips or homemade sandwiches.  One float passed by handing out little pieces of cake.  Don't worry, I fought the people at the base of that particular float and got two.  Of course I did get sprayed while trying to get a can of beer, but the mood of the entire parade was infectious and I didn't mind at all.  Unfortunately my camera got a little sticky and the zoom button still sticks a little bit, but otherwise I had a fantastic time.

Before the mayhem.

This float gave us cake.

 

Sprayed with beer. Super Bock!

Pouring vodka right into students' mouths

That night we headed to the Noites do Parque once again and saw Quim Barreiros in concert.  I'll insert a video of Quim Barreiros for you below so you can comprehend why we were at first astonished that he was headlining and then had the greatest time ever dancing to his songs.

Quim Barreiros and his accordion!

Once the weekend was over, we were a little partied out and didn't return to the Noites do Parque until Wednesday night.  Each night, though, we could hear the concerts from our apartment and, later, the music of parties going on in the different student houses around us and the bars near Sé Velha.  But attendance at the Noites do Parque on Wednesday was completely necessary: Yolanda Be Cool, who are behind one of my favorite songs of all time "We No Speak Americano" (the song I used in my Queima das Fitas video) where playing and I was determined to worship them in person.

Having too much of a good time.

In all, this week was absolutely insane.  To give you an idea of the amount of people here in Coimbra and the amount of drunkness that they carried with them, it has been reported that more beer is drank during these eight days of Quiema das Fitas than during Oktoberfest.  I really hope I can return again while I'm still young and experience this celebration again!  Later, when my video finally uploads, I'll post a link to my video about Queima das Fitas on here. 

But for now I will leave you with this, a recent vocabulary discovery I found that I don't think is entirely by accident and may be completely inspired by the Queima das Fitas festivities:

Licenciado, -a graduate

Licenciar to graduate

Licenciatura degree

Licencioso licentious

Hmm. Coincidence?  I think not.