I’m not a big fan of the Algarve, although I know many people like it, because for me it has too many high-rise condominiums, too many golf courses, too many American-style subdivisions, and too many English, Germans, Americans and others. English is almost the default language in parts of it, I sense. At times it feels more like Floridabor New Jersey, despite its location on the southern end of Portugal.
The Easter holidays have ended here, and this means our little girl EC is back in kindergarden after two weeks away. My hurt leg threw a wrench into planning, but during the school holiday, we managed to take a two-night trip to Faro.
Faro is in some ways the center city of the Algarve. Its main airport is located there. But those who care more for Algarve’s golf courses or more distant beaches have left the region’s main city a bit depressed, a bit eroded.
Although the city dates back to the Moors and the Romans, and it still has much of its medieval stone walls around it, it does not exude the aura of a valued historic city. Instead of high-priced boutiques, we found abandoned buildings, lots of grafitti on crumbling walls, and so-so streets. There were some fancy hotels and lodgings - we found a great three-level apartment for about 100 euros a night - and there were some nice restaurants, but they existed in a patchwork quilt of other stuff. I noticed a fair number of music and dance clubs. That makes sense that these businesses, which often have trouble finding space, could find some in rundown buildings with a romantic twinge whose owners are happy to find tenants.
We wandered around these streets, ate some nice meals and took a ferry to a barrier-island beach. And then drove home to Odemira county, which took all of two hours. That is the wonderful thing about Portugal, and really much of Europe. You can drive a short distance and be in a completely different world.
And speaking of EC, who as I mentioned is now back in school, she is coming along fine in learning Portuguese. It is a joy to watch and hear her. Perhaps I should not be surprised because, as a teacher of hers mentioned to me, she hears it and speaks it all day at school. But she made little progress for the first three months. Then things started to click. Now she delights in saying to her mother and father, “Eu falo mais português que tu,” meaning I speak more portuguese than you. Which is true.
She does not speak it grammatically. She makes a lot of mistakes. She mixes up verb ending and uses the wrong gender. She will say things like “eu sabe” instead of “eu sei,” and “a minha livro” instead of correct “o meu livro.” She doesn’t notice or care. Meanwhile, her mother and I, who have studied a lot more grammar than EC, speak and understand much more slowly than she does.
We are not able to be five - now six - years old again. But I am trying to copy EC as much as I am able when speaking Portuguese. I am trying to simply talk more, and to ignore more the voice in my head that is asking, “was that the correct verb ending? Was that the correct preposition?”
Listening and understanding the language is the most difficult part of learning Portuguese, most people say. In this, I’m not sure if I can take any tips from EC. What I have found helpful is to force yourself to ask the speaker to say something again more slowly, and to admit you did not understand something. This is embarrassing and can’t be done for every word. But there is a payoff when you do. You learn new words, and start catching on to the spoken language.
Tummy Time: Abroad At Home, In Portugal
We had a lot of nice food in Faro, including a nice Nepalese meal which is an indication of its more substantial immigrant population from East Asia - India, Pakistan and Nepal - that are attracted no doubt to its less expensive real estate. As I have mentioned before, there is a substantial East Asian immigrant population in Portugal, brought in through some sort of visa program. They do everything from drive taxis in Lisbon and pick strawberries around Odemira.
Here is a picture of a dish from our Nepalese meal in the middle of Faro, the ancient city now a worn but still appealing ornament on the Algarve coast.
Actually, I apparently forgot to take a picture of our crispy dumplings and other goodies.
So here is a picture of of a pile of Alentejo-style bread in the Faro municipal market, a huge structure stuffed with stalls that I got up early to visit while K and EC were still in bed. Faro is in the Algarve, which is not in the Alentejo, but the baker, one of many, informed me that Alentejo-style bread was still “the best,” and eaten a lot in the Algarve, along with varieties more in the Algarve style.
Tummy Time II - Shower the Cook Who Cooks Your Fish With Your Love
Some late breaking tummy-time news, as often happens when I am putting out this newsletter. The headline here is that it pays to compliment the cook.
I was at a relatively new place today, having one of their two “plates of the day”, in this case ray with garlic.
Ray, or maybe skate in English, is a tasty fish, but hard to cook at home, as I learned a few weeks ago. It’s probably a good one for a plate of the day style restaurant, because it is tasty but cheap.
The dish arrived at my table in just a minute or two. That meant it had been prepared in quantity, as is typical with plates of the day, so it can be served quickly and costs are kept down.
It was very good. Although it had somehow been prepared ahead, the exterior was hot and crispy, with little bits of garlic on top. It was savory and delicious. The boiled potatoes that ringed it went perfectly with it. As did the Alentejo-style bread, olives and salad, and the large cup of white wine. See the picture below.
About two thirds through my lunch, I complimented the cook, who was at the cash register near me dealing with some folk. She nodded with a smile. I had seen her around. Just the other day I saw her exiting the city market at an early hour. The city market was right around the corner from her restaurant. So doubtless this ray had come from there, probably just hours earlier, and was extremely fresh. As cooks do, she seemed to appreciate my appreciation.
A few minutes later, she said to me in Portuguese: “Do you want some more fish?” Sure, I said. A few minutes later, another portion arrived, as large as the first. That was a lot of fish, but I ate it all. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Then about a half hour later, as I sat there digesting and doing my Portuguese homework, she came up and said: “Would you like a coffee?” Yes, please, I said.
No charge for the coffee, or the extra fish. Total charge for everything, including wine, 10 euros. Notice your chef! Especially in a small place like this, which consisted of the cook and probably owner, and one waitress, who in this case had hair streaked with blue. And was from Poland originally, as I had learned at a previous time there.
Your observations about being uninhibited about language ring true for me. I am often when it comes to Spanish so cautious because I don't want to embarras myself with bad grammar, that it keeps me from using the language while travelling. Dina, who is less inhibited or concerned, will talk a lot. I think I had more formal study than her in high school combined with college, and even did a language study trimester in Salamanca, but she lived and volunteered with a program in Mexico after high school and I think this loosened her up a bit about just being very conversational. On the topic of Nepal, Ana did a program there in February and she absolutely loved it. She went with several classmates at ICE, both juniors and seniors. She wants to take me to Queens to try the many dishes she discovered there. I will try not to forget to take a photo!
Ah, Alex, I keep forgetting how much we have in common, except for height, roots, religion, etc. I did have a Spanish girlfriend, Rosa Domingues Anton and I wish I could find her now on social media. I hooked up with her again about five years later in 1991 when she was studying in the U.S. and for a brief weekend we rekindled our romance. At the tail end of my time there I also met an American at a party, Janet Brown, whose name is so common and generic I guess it is safe to share here. We managed to continue things in the U.S. as well so except for the bad grades (I got a C+ in art history which lowered my overall GPA when I graduated) and the fact that I didn't really learn the language, I guess my time there was well spent. Oh to be in one's early 20s and have a full head of hair!!