Un estiu a les Açores i Portugal

back... to the Azores

2008-08-13T22:54:00.000+01:00

Mariza - Rosa branca (Terra)

2008-08-12T17:49:00.002+01:00

talls de pastís

2008-08-02T01:58:00.002+01:00

Aquest vespre he anat a un bar restaurant que m'ha encantat. Es diu Chapitô i es troba molt a prop del Castell de Sao Jorge, a Lisboa.

Es tracta d'una obra social d'inserció de joves amb dificultats, a través d'activitats vinculades amb el circ, i a més hi ha un restaurant i un bar amb una decoració fantástica i amb vistes a la ciutat de Lisboa i el riu Tajo.

Al bar, que no obria fins les 22h, hi han fet Fado, i malgrat no podia entendre la lletra gaire bé, la música era molt bona.

visites a Porto presencien accident

2008-07-25T13:08:00.006+01:00

La Cris, el Jordi, el Kevin, el Xavi i la Noe van arribar a Porto dimecres a la tarda.

Després de deixar les bosses i fer l'inventari dels mobles de l'habitació (!) vaig començar a fer de guia local a la meva habitació, on vam fer un got de Licor Serrano, un licor tradicional de la Serra da Estrela semblant al licor de crema catalana però més espès i un gust una mica més fresc. Vam concloure que era un berenar molt saborós.

Tot passejant vam anar cap al centre, no sense parar a un forn-cafeteria on els recent arribats van tastar diversos tipus de productes casolans de pica-pica, tipus pasta de full o brisa farcida de carn, pasta de gambes, etc. La Cris va treure una llibreteta i per escriure-hi els noms dels productes consumits, en portugès, per tenir-la com a referència per la resta del viatge. A més, va continuar la llista de comptes en què ja havia anotat el preu del bitllet de metro que li havia permès arribar a la residència.

Vam caminar tranquil·lament per diversos barris fins arribar a Ribeira, a la vora del riu. Pel camí vam aturar-nos a la praça da Batalha i a la estació de tren de S. Bento, que destaca pels mosaics de les parets, que representen diverses etapes de la història de Portugal. Un cop a Ribeira vam quedar-nos en un restaurant familiar en un carrer més aviat estret, que vam saber el dia següent que sortia recomanat a la guia de turisme del Kevin. Tots vam menjar segons plats de peix, servits amb patates i verdura, i alguns vam menjar sopa per començar. En acabat vam caminar turó amunt en direcció a la praça dos Leoes, on jo m'havia de trobar amb una sèrie de gent que només coneixia virtualment.

Quan enfilàvem carrer amunt abans d'arribar a la Torre dos Clérigos vam presenciar una cosa no gaire habitual. Vam veure un cotxe fent marxa enrere que, a força velocitat, va topar amb una vorera, després va esquivar, tot fent un gir sobtat, un cotxe vermell aparcat a mà dreta del carrer pel qual anàvem, però el gir va ser tan tancat que en comptes d'adreçar-se per baixar recte avall (semblava que això era el que volia), va anar directe a la paret de l'esquerra, contra la qual va topar violentament i, gràcies al xoc, es va aturar.

Jo em pensava que el conductor estava begut, però aviat vaig veure que no hi havia ningú a dins i que segurament el vehicle s'havia desfrenat sol. Una parella també ho havia presenciat, des de dalt del carrer, i ja feien el gest de trucar a la policia. La dona estava esvereda, igual que alguns dels meus amics - jo no vaig veure pq ens havíem d'exaltar... no és el primer cop que un cotxe es desfrena, i ningú havia pres mal, així que no calia fer-ne un gra massa.

Llavors la Cris va veure que els intermitents s'havien engegat i apagat, i vaig pensar que l'amo del cotxe era a prop i havia desactivat l'alarma; vaig mirar allà on el meu camp visual m'ho permetia i vaig veure dos homes que feien cara de sorpresa i un d'ells es treia el mòbil de la butxaca, el que vaig interpretar com a un gest de trucada imminent a la policia per declarar la pèrdua del vehicle.

Vaig dirigir-me a ells i els vaig preguntar si buscaven un cotxe. "Sí". Dic "és allà baix, ha anat tirant sol, d'esquena, i ha xocat contra la paret. És allà, el veus?" i res, vaig començar a caminar per anar-me'n perquè allà no hi fèiem res més.

Piolho és un bar molt popular, amb molt d'espai a dins i taules a la terrassa de la plaça. Hi havia un munt de gent dreta a fora, també. Al costat, un parell o tres de bars més tenien el mateix tipus de clientela, alguns dels quals acabaven de menjar alguna cosa, però la majoria estaven allà per fer petar la xerrada i fer un got (opcional). Jo vaig passar una estona a dins amb els catalans i una estona a fora amb els portuguesos i les portugueses de Couchsurfing.com

Two days ago, on our way to the bars, we saw an accident: a parked car's breaks released and it went down the hill, hit a sidewalk, avoided crashing with another parked car and finally hit and stopped against the wall on the other side of the street.

Folklore in Viana do Castelo (Norte de Portugal)

2008-07-21T23:26:00.005+01:00

(I just submitted this essay as part of the culture grade for the summer study-travel program I'm taking part in)

Seeing the grupo folclórico perform in the praça da República in Viana do Castelo and getting a chance to dance ourselves was a great experience, at least as much as the parallel activity in Ponta Delgada was.

My original interest in folk dance sprang in the mid 90s from what I saw as an incredibly fun activity that merged several elements that are important to me: music, dance as physical activity and artistic expression, and social interaction. I became interested in traditional dance when I first had the opportunity to dance to the sound of some international folk music, in 1996, soon after I joining a folkloric group of a different character typical from my own people, castells or human towers.

Besides the aspects mentioned above, I understand folk dance as part of the cultural expression of a people, which I think need not remain within the people, unless that is the will of the members. My (limited) experience dancing to traditional music from such diverse places as Israel, Macedonia, Russia, Alsace, Occitania, Japan or USA among others, has shown me how similar can be the spirit of dances from such distant places, for example in bringing people from different genders together, which wasn't easy back in the day. Interaction in those dances happens in different ways, for instance in single lines where everybody stays where they are, parallel line dances where couples stay the same or circle dances where the partners rotate, to mention a few. Folk dance creates a space for a kind of interpersonal interaction that differs from any other social interaction, and, I think, can help people develop certain aspects of ourselves such as the fear to interact with people we don't know, the sense of rhythm and motor coordination, while enjoying great music, exchanging smiles and laughing at our own mistakes. Opening the possibility of outside community members to take part in folkloric events is a good way to get to know and, again, interact with people from other cultures, to have fun and learn with each other and from each other.

After the performance and the explanation about the costumes from Viana do Castelo and surrounding areas, I informally interviewed a woman who used to dance in a grupo folclórico to inquire about the local danças (dances) and fatos (costumes).

From what I saw and gathered, traditional cultural activities such as dance and music are very much alive in Viana do Castelo and surroundings. In this area, folkloric groups perform almost every weekend in the summer time and occasionally in the winter as well. Furthermore, not only organized musicians and dancers perform, but also the average person takes part in the dances, joining the organized amadores. This popular participation (dancing) is, as I see it, a sign that the traditional cultural activity is alive, which might not be the case when just a reduced number of the community members act in performances or exhibitions without any involvement on the people's end.

Along with music and dance, carrying out such performances serves to keep alive the knowledge and (to a certain degree) experiences of the ancestors of those who are doing it now. On Saturday in Viana do Castelo we saw and learned about some of the different costumes used in the past, including regular everyday or work clothes and Sunday or festa clothes.

Traditional clothing

The dancers whom we saw perform were wearing everyday or work traditional clothes in different colors and embroided patterns (see picture #1), while the women we saw later were wearing festa clothes. The men's clothes for work and festa are not quite as distinguishable as the women's. According to my informant, the elements that constitute a fato da erva, the female costume to work in the fields, are a saia (skirt), a avental (apron, pronounced [vental] by the lady), a blusa de pano (pano blouse), a lenço (head scarf), meia nao enteira (leggings, as opposed to stockings) and socas (clogs). Picture#2 shows a fato de virar feira, which would be used on fair or market days and is slightly different from the fato da erva. The only difference my informant pointed out was the kind of fabric used to make the blouse, which is made of linho or linen in the fato de virar feira, instead of pano. Dressed with the clothes just described, women working in the fair would carry a basket with the products for sale.

On the other hand, a fato de festa is constituted by a red or blue saia, a matching red or blue avental (apron) aos quadros ou rosas bordadas (embroidered patterns such as squares or roses), a albigeira (a little hanging pocket), a coleta, which looks like a sturdy vest of short length, a lenço or scarf around the neck, a lenço on the head, full meia rendada (the stockings shown in the picture -crocheted?) and xinelos, the type of shoes shown in the picture. Picture#3 presents four different outfits including two fatos de festa: from left to right, a festa costume in red, a men's costume, a festa costume in blue, and part of a work outfit (skirt and shoes).

Tradition across the community

When I asked my informant about the age range of people dancing folk music she reported that people of all ages take part in it, maybe with the exception of teens, which I specifically asked about, since teenagers do not tend to do things that are not considered cool. Teenagers might not dance, but they (at least a good number of them) take part in other folkloric activities, such as the marchas (marches) we saw on Friday night, performed almost exclusively by youth, because, the lady said, they are organized at school (a few groups of adults are cultural groups created in the community).

To conclude, I'd like to reiterate my appreciation for having seen traditional dances northern of Portugal, and particularly for having gotten a chance to dance them as well, since this is something that regular people do in Viana do Castelo and the area. The connection presented to us between dance and costumes in the current folkloric activities allowed me to discuss both subjects in this essay, which also seemed natural to my informant, who, despite being a dancer herself, seemed more comfortable and excited answering questions about clothing than about dancing (maybe as a consequence of the nature of my set of questions about local folk dance).

References:
Picture #1: Fatos tradicionais e danças - grupo folclórico - Viana do Castelo:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/poma/2686825654/sizes/l/
Picture #2: Fato de virar feira:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/poma/2686816872/sizes/l/
Picture #3: fatos tradicionais - Viana do Castelo
http://www.flickr.com/photos/poma/2686000339/sizes/l/in/set-72157606277838600/

Reflections on judging people

2008-07-17T16:45:00.007+01:00

Today's entry is the second part of a reaction paper I submitted a few days ago to my professor, the intro being an old blog entry entitled "Un dia complet", to which I added the present reflection on how we humans can often judge people on the basis of a small interaction with someone, and from that single experience we might generalize to a whole community (I have to admit I have done it myself in other occasions).

This reflection was prompted by a situation experienced by some of the people in my study travel program, to which I referred further down, in that other post, which I just updated because I modified it in my reaction-paper.

The Portuguese people

The episode I was just talking about got me thinking about the danger of generalizations, especially when the judgment of a whole people is at play. For example, in my previous (and only) trip to Portugal I wound up with the idea that the Portuguese were rather closed people, a conclusion that I draw with not enough basis or arguments.

Two factors might have affected that old impression I had of the Portuguese not being too open: on the one hand, when I first came to Portugal in 2004, I mostly had superficial interactions with people working in cafés in Lisbon. It is true world-wide that people in larger urban areas tend to be less open than people of the same culture or ethnic group living in rural areas, so I might have just run into “real” urban people who live in a fast-paced society where to take special care of unknown people is not the norm. In opposition, the few interactions I had with Portuguese people other than us being on two different sides of a counter were very good, but since those were way outnumbered by the plain interactions in cafés or store, my impression and final conclusion was that the Portuguese (at least in Lisbon's metropolitan area) were closed. On the other hand, the fact that I went to Lisbon straight from Brazil, were I had just spent a couple of months interacting with Brazilian people in general (whom are known to be extremely friendly) and open international backpackers, might have contributed to my unfair judgement of the Portuguese people. I currently do not believe that the Portuguese are cold or closed, rather the opposite, and I am positive that my current idea is more informed than my previous one.

After the incident with the rude waitress, I got the impression that at least some of the victims were generalizing from the individual behavior of that one unfriedly person to the “people here”, that is, the Portuguese. It is true that such generalization is not uncommon after such experience (probably we all do uninformed generalizations more often than we should), however we need to be careful when we judge a whole people on the basis of a small number of negative experiences such as one or two unpleasant interactions with waiters and waitresses.

Although I don't have relatives here and do not feel otherwise attached to the Portuguese land or people, I felt the need to defend the locals from a negative generalization. I explained to the people on the bus that my own experience with Azorian and Portuguese people on the trip so far had been very positive and that I was actually a bit surprized about it because my idea of the Portuguese people before this trip was rather opposite, as mentioned above (not negative, but not extremely positive either). I truly believe that the Portuguese are nice and friendly to people who approaches them in a friendly manner, particularly when trying to speak their language. I am aware that speaking some Portuguese puts me in a different position compared to other non-native speakers, but the only thing I've changed from 2004 to this date in that respect is the way I interact with people I don't know --my level of Portuguese hasn't otherwise improved because I did not speak it in the 4 years between the two trips--, which is now more open and willing to learn from them and share whatever they want to hear from me.

Since it is easy to get dragged by negative experiences, I belief that, when traveling and more generally in life, it is important to remember the good experiences over any negative ones, or at least to try and balance them, making sure not to make the negative ones heavier in our memories.

PS Since I started writing this posting a few days ago I've had more opportunities to interact with people in a variety of situations (including the waitress-customer kind mentioned above) and I've only continued to grow more and more convinced that the Portuguese are open, easy-going and helpful.

calurositat

2008-07-16T00:23:00.000+01:00

Des d'ahir ens ha fet una calor d'aquella que deixa una mica aplatanat... però veient com es queixen els estudiants de Berkeley, que no hi estan acostumats, jo callo i la disfruto, ja que durant força temps he trobat a faltar les temperatures d'un estiu de debò...

Ara és mitjanit passada i fins fa ben poc no ha començat a refrescar. Ahir ja vaig dormir amb la finestra oberta i el llençol per fer bonic, perquè de falta no en feia.

és dilluns

2008-07-14T20:38:00.001+01:00

Com que fa dies que no penjo res, simplement afegeixo una foto de Porto (que en realitat vaig fer dimecres passat abans d'anar a fer tast de vins a Gaia).

Aquest capde passat vam anar Douro amunt en un vaixell... i vam passar per dues encluses, cosa que no havia fet mai. Divendres mateix vam visitar una cava i el museu del vi, i vam anar a dormir a Vila-Real, ciutat que vam visitar (per lliure, per fi!) el dia següent, dissabte.

De Vila-Real vam anar cap a Guimaraes, on am fer una mica de tour històric per la tarda-vespre, així com diumenge pel matí. Pel camí d'un ciutat a l'altra vam parar en un poblet fantástic, suposadament per dinar en 45', cosa que va ser impossible perquè algun@s van seure a un restaurant de servei molt lent i, pobres, una hora després encara no havien vist res de menjar. Jo vaig voltar pel centre medieval, vaig fer alguna foto i em vaig comprar sabates de pell molt bé de preu :)

Guimaraes és macot i tranquil, tot i ser la població on va néixer Portugal.

Diumenge a la tarda vam anar a una població costanera al nord de Porto, cosa que no vaig aprofitar perquè tenia molta feina per fer (del curs de portuguès i del diccionari de Pomo). Fa dies que em dedico al diccionari Pomo com a prioritat, però són tan poc els moments en què no tenim classe o actvitats, que no avanço gaire. Ara són prop de les 9pm, dilluns, i acabo d'acabar la feina pel curs (uns treballets per la part de cultura), així que em posaré a fer Pomo, aviam si acabo d'una vegada i em puc concentrar en estar a Portugal :)

libros / books / llibres

2008-07-08T18:35:00.000+01:00

Avui he comprat aquests llibres:

Oliveira, Estrangeira terra litoral
Gusmao, Mar Meu
Letria, Manuscritos do Mar Vivo
Camoes, Os Lusiadas, adaptada per nens.

programa de TV i fotos d'avui a Porto

2008-07-07T22:48:00.000+01:00

un vídeo sobre el nostre programa, a la tele, en portuguès: http://videos.sapo.cv/4PyhtN7hZZNIVEq7UWuY

i unes fotos del dia...

una altra pausa d'una setmana al blog

2008-07-07T06:50:00.000+01:00

Malauradament no podré actualitzar el blog durant una setmana perquè he d'acabar la meva part de feina del diccionari en línia de Pomo, la llengua californiana que vam estudiar l'any passat a classe. Un del companys del projecte farà una presentació en una conferència a Korea d'aquí pocs dies i cal que enllesteixi unes coses abans.

Sesima

2008-07-05T23:45:00.001+01:00

Un dia complet

2008-07-05T21:19:00.004+01:00

Terceira-feira, 1 Julho 2008

Driving on a road through the Serra da Arrábida with awesome views to the ocean on one side and pine forests on the other (Palmela), we got to Convento da Arrábida. Originally a series of little chapels aligned along the crest of the serra, Convento da Arrábida is an incredible place that we were lucky enough to visit (it's usually closed): white walls, wood and local stone, initially free of decoration to facilitate prayer and meditation practice, situated up in the serra, with gorgeous views to a beautiful ocean water.

The old man who gave us the tour was very funny and knowledgeable... and modern too --he answered his cell phone at least three times during our visit. He told us about the customs and simple life of the men staying at the monastery in the past, whom led individual lives devoted to praying and meditating, and didn't really interact, thus not forming a proper community: they lived in their cells (small rooms with little windows facing the ocean) on bread and water (pao e água), which they would only collect every few days; the only other reason to leave the cell was to use the bathroom. When one of the religious men died in his room, the others only would find out after a few days when the smell from the rotting body called their attention. I would love to post pictures of the convento, but the old man asked us not to publish anything, since the image rights now belong to a foundation, the owner of the land and the monastery.

Breathtaken, I went back to the bus and chatted with my seat neighbor until we got to Azeitao, where we took a 10' break for coffee and bathroom purposes. Deolinda, the director of the program, took action in approaching local gastronomy to our palates by buying tortas de Azeitao, a typical dessert from there.

After another short while on the bus we got to Sezima, a coastal town with turquoise waters and a little fortress on the beach. We only had about a free hour to eat lunch, walk around or go to the beach. After the extremely rich tortas de Azeitao, I wasn't all that hungry and considered it wasn't worth to either sit and wait for food at a restaurant or to spend time at the beach --since we had been to several beaches already--, so I adventured into the winding, hilly streets of the town. I experienced a feeling of getting lost which was quite new to me: although I had a clear idea of the general direction, I didn't know that part of town and I was worried I wouldn't make it back to the meeting point on time, for I left the ocean front less than 10 minutes prior to the meeting time. I took some very steep and sinuous streets in the intense heat of the early afternoon. I kept thinking I wouldn't make it on time because I feared that I might get to a dead end, forced to turn around and possibly find my way back only returning to the most precious saline water and to depart from the beach area I had initially gotten acquainted with and re-trace the path that led me to the ocean. Rushing back to the meeting point, I got there just a couple of minutes late, when a bare handfull of people where already waiting.

Since I was “early” in comparison to the body of the group, I went on a crusade to find natural juice. I spotted a café on the other side of the street and while I was entering, I run into one of ours, one who was very upset with the way she had been treated at a restaurant together with a larger group. I helped her order a snack after she hearing her recent experience and I hope she got good food now, because she seemed pretty disturbed and hungry. Back in the bus, other people expressed discontentment with the way the same waitress treated them, whom didn't want to serve them because they were foreigners and “did not speak Portuguese” (sic), although in fact some did to some degree.

[a reflection following up on this story follows on July 17th posting, Reflections on judging people]

En el trajecte fins a Estremoz el paisatge ha canviat notablement i hem vist un munt de pins, alzines sureres, eucaliptus i algun àlber. Els pins i alzines sureres, i actualment eucaliptus, són molt comuns a Alentejo, la zona on ens trobem, al sud de Lisboa (além = 'més enllà'; Tejo = 'Tajo')

A Estremoz ens allotgem en un antic convent que ara és museu de la ciència i també té capacitats per allotjar algunes persones. La ciutat medieval es troba dins les muralles, i al cim del turó hi ha un castell amb uns torres espectaculars. Les parades de fruita i verdura hi són cada dia, així que n'he comprat prou per ben bé tres dies.

Per sopar hem menjat formatges locals, pa local; sopa de tomàquet; porc amb cloïses; diversos tipus de postres locals. I de tornada al convent-alberg hem estat xerrant i tocant la guitarra, i he dormit al terra del claustre perquè a l'habitació hi feia massa calor (i la que devia fer més tard, amb 21 noies a dins!)

off topic (sobre el blog)

2008-07-05T20:50:00.000+01:00

vale, sembla que ja començo a entendre com funciona això ;)

Encara em costa penjar fotos i re-organitzar el text, però ja no és culpa de la meva manca de pràctica, sinó de les limitacions de Blogger.

He acabat de penjar el missatge anterior (de Setúbal) a Porto, on hem arribat avui, dissabte dia 5. Feia dies que no tenia connexió a Internet, així que tinc centenars de fotos per penjar... que potser és bo perquè, per no avorrir al personal, estic seleccionant-ne molt poques de cada visita.

De vídeos encara no n'he penjat perquè fins ara les connexions que he tingut eren molt dolentes i em costava penjar-ne a Youtube.

Ok, it looks like I'm starting to know how to use this ;)

I have uploaded some pictures on Flickr, but only a few selected ones, since -due to the lack of Internet connection during the trip- I have accumulated over a thousand of them by now and I didn't want to bore you.

my flickr page: http://www.flickr.com/photos/poma

Setúbal, ciutat pesquera

2008-07-02T14:18:00.000+01:00

Ahir a l'hora de dinar, que per primer cop va ser per compte nostre (i no amb el grup), vaig anar a fer un volt pel port pesquer de Setúbal, una ciutat pesquera a uns 45' al sud de Lisboa. La llotja estava buida, però hi havia homes pel port, potser revisant que tot estigués en ordre per anar a pescar a la nit. Vaig fer alguna foto i vaig recórrer el passeig, que a una banda tenia el port i a l'altra restaurants de peix i marisc.

Després, amb el grup vam caminar una mica pel centre, vam anar a veure-hi la Igreja o Mosteiro de Jesús, una església feta construir per Justa Rodrigues Pereira . El fet que fos construïda per una dona és una cosa increïblement estranya en aquella època i com que no s'ha demostrat cap teoria amb seguretat, hi ha moltes hipòtesis sobre els motius pels qual fou no només autorizada sinó subvencionada pel rei (els fills de la dona no tenen pare conegut...). D'altra banda, cal destacar que fou construïda en només 15 anys, si no recordo malament. Aquesta iglésia és d'estil manuelí, un estil molt important a l'època (el nom manuelí ve del rei Manuel Barboso, del qual us poso també la foto d'una estàtua al mig del que sembla la plaça major, al costat d'una altra església). Em va agradar el fer que hi hagués nanos (i una noia!) amb skate a la plaça de l'església.

Tot fent un volt pel poble (a toc de diana) vam anar a parar a un museu etnogràfic molt interessant, el Museu do Trabalho, que segons va dir el guia/propietari (?), està destinat als locals, no a turisme estranger. Fa emfàsis en la vida de les classes populars de Setúbal i, situat en el que era una fàbrica d'enllaunar peix, mostra instruments i objectes d'activitats tradicionals, des de paneres i cistells, la reproducció d'una botiga, estris per la fabricació de llana i, és clar, fins a objectes i màquines necessàries per enllaunar peix.

PS com sempre, més fotos aquí.

platja deserta :)

2008-06-30T19:53:00.000+01:00

una foto que m'he deixat en el post anterior :P

Les Açores

2008-06-27T10:52:00.001+01:00

He creat aquest blog, el primer de la meva vida, amb la intenció d'escriure-hi força sovint durant el transcurs del viatge que estic fent a les Açores i Portugal. Tot i el primer cap de setmana lliure, la resta del viatge s'enmarca dins d'un programa de UC Berkeley de llengua i cultura portuguesa.

En el post d'avui explico com van anar els tres primers dies del viatge, en què bàsicament he estat en companyia agradable, he vist paisatges fantàstics i he fet surf, i, si tot va bé, demà explicaré com han anat els tres dies següents, és a dir, els tres primers dies d'estar a la ciutat de Ponta Delgada, dormint a la pousada i passant el dia amb els companys del curs bé a classe o visitant la ciutat i gaudint d'activitats culturals locals. A partir de dijous o divendres hauria de posar-me al dia i escriure només coses actuals :)

Alguns dies escriuré en català i altre en anglès. En principi, sempre afegiré un petit resum en l'altra llengua al final del text del dia, així us mantinc al dia (i així les fotos i els vídeos tindran més sentit per tothom).

Si us avorriu, sempre us queda l'alternativa de mirar les fotos i llestos ;)

This is my first blog ever and I have created it thinking of posting quite often while my current trip to the Azores (Açores) and Portugal lasts. Besides the first free weekend, this trip is part of a travel-study program from UC Berkeley entitled Portuguese language and culture.

Today's post talks about the first three days of the trip (awesome views, good company and surf), and hopefully tomorrow or the day after I'll talk about the next three days, that is, the first three days of the programa here in Ponta Delgada, sleeping at the hostel and spending every hour of the day with the group, either in class, visiting the city or attending local cultural activities. I should be up-to-date by Friday :)

Since I'll be writing in English and Catalan, I'll try to consistenly add a summary of the post in the other language, at the end of the text, so that the picture and videos I'm posting make sense to everybody.

If you get bored you can always just take a look at picture and videos (all of them very short) and skip the text ;)

PS: espero que la tecnologia del Blogger millori una mica, perquè m'está costant força acabar amb un format que m'agradi quan intento barrejar text i fotos.

Cap de setmana de natura a Sao Miguel

2008-06-26T14:32:00.000+01:00

Sexta-feira, 20 de Junho 2008

El Marc, molt pacient i amable, s’ha esperat a la sala d’espera de l’aeroport de Ponta Delgada (Sao Miguel, Açores) fins que he acabat de fer els tràmits per recuperar la maleta que no ha tingut temps de canviar d’avió a Lisboa, pobreta. El nano de l’aeroport ha estat molt amable i ho ha fet sonar tot fàcil i àgil –segurament em portaran la maleta demà, si és que no m’arriba avui a la nit.

He acompanyat en Marc a fer un parell d’encàrrecs i, després d’ensenyar-me el jardí i l’hortet de casa seva, hem anat a fer un tomb. Quina preciositat de racons té l’illa de Sao Miguel! Hem anat a les Lombadas (“lloms”, com si diguéssim), una zona muntanyenca maquíssima i intacta al bell mig de l’illa. Pel camí ens hem aturat a un lloc d’aigües termals on he bombardejat el meu guia personal amb preguntes. Hem fet unes quantes fotos del paisatge, les fonts i els forns naturals, i hem reprès la ruta cap a les Lombades per una carretereta fantàstica.

La carretera, que de tan estreta semblava de direcció única (i per aquest motiu m’ha recordat de carretera que arriba a Ceret, tot i que la present no semblava tan repillosa perquè no tenia un penyasegat allà mateix), creuava ben bé pel mig natura en estat pur. De verd n’hem vist a tothora; primer herbeta i arbres, després herbeta i mates baixes. Les vistes m’han deixat sense alè en més d’una ocasió... Primer els marges de la carretera, il.luminats per la llum de la tarda, semblaven de somni; després les vistes del litoral, resseguint la costa i amb el sol al fons, semblaven de pel·lícula, i finalment les muntanyes que ens quedaven a la dreta, plenes d’arbres punxaguts, mostraven un paratge natural ben diferent. El sol apareixia i desapareixia darrere els núvols constantment, quasi sempre il·luminant només parcialment algunes zones del camp visual, tot deixant-ne d'altres a l’ombra.

Després d'aquesta primera instància d'embadalamenta òptica i espiritual hem anat al port de Calhetas (= caletes?), un port de pesca natural arrecerat de la força de l’oceà. Després de ser apedregats per unes nenes locals, en Marc i jo hem pres una cerveseta local en un bar amb terrassa al mateix carrer que, metres més avall, desemboca al portet.

En acabat hem anat al súper -o “híper” com en diuen aquí, cosa que m’ha fet gràcia perquè és com en deien els meus pares quan jo era petita- a comprar sopar i esmorzar per demà. A casa hem fet una sessió suau de ioga i hem menjat una amanida de tomàquet, olives i formatge local amb oli d’oliva i alfàbrega collida a casa. I per postres, galetes Trias ;)

Al final de dia... El cansament del viatge i la pèrdua de la maleta han quedat en res davant de l'espectacularitat dels indrets que he contemplat: la tranquil.litat i les vistes de què he gaudit han estat increïbles i demà n’experimentarem més!

At the end of the day... Losing my suitcase and feeling tired from the trip and the lack of sleep was soon left behind after the incredible views I got to see thanks to Marc. After a brief stop at a hot spring where people can't bathe because the water is too hot, we continued to the Lombadas, a peaceful mountanious area full of green life and views to the ocean, and then the little natural port of Calhetas, near which we had a local beer after being attacked by two little criminal girls throwing stones at us from the cliff. At night, we had a yoga session and a nice tomato salad and red wine followed by Catalan biscuits for dessert.

Facts...

- L’illa de Sao Miguel té gairebé la meitat de la població de les Açores.

- Per anar d'una illa a l'altra, a l'estiu no surt gaire car de viatjar en vaixell, però a l'hivern no hi ha vaixells de passatgers entre illes i cal agafar l'avió, que no és pas barat.

- Sao Miguel has almost half of the population of the Açores.

- To go from one island to the others, in the summer you can take a boat, but in the winter it gets too dangerous and no passenger boats run from island to island, so that to travel within the achipelago one needs to fly, making the trip very expensive.

Sábado, 21 de Junho 2008

I woke up several times in the early morning, but knowing that the surf would be bad and in need of good rest, I stayed in bed until some time around 9:30. I took a picture of the yard and garden from my window, having heard an intense rain pouring on and off through the morning, and I joined Marc in the living-room for a yoga session.

Before we got started with the morning session, we heard a popular parade go down the street. It was the typical parade performed at the beginning of festivities' celebrations in order to give free soup, cook and uncooked meat, bread and wine to those who want some (originally for the poor) -in this case it was accompanied by a group of men singing and playing some type of “castañuelas” to the sound of three accordions.

After the short morning yoga session we ate breakfast and packed to head off to an isolated beach for a weekend full of surf and good company in a natural paradise just for us and our friends.

We got Laura, another Catalan girl, her bodyboard and a board for me, and did some grocery shopping on the way. The drive wasn’t long at all (this is a small island anyway), and after parking on the side of the road and hiked down to our camp-site for about 10 minutes. The hike was on a gorgeous environment illuminated again by the sun on a dark sky. The cliffs cut open to show the ocean at the end of a valley shaped space and the tilted surface around us and everywhere else was ever green. The color of the water was intense and the horizon line seemed to be higher up than usual, which I continued to notice in other parts of the island. I made a short video to show the environment in which we walked down to the beach.

We set a couple of tents near our friend's hut and hanged out with them, three Canarians and a British friend whom were just coming back from a surf session. They said the conditions were bad but some rideable waves showed up every now and then; the ocean looked very choppy, since there was a strong north wind. Some wanted to wait for a later session, so I waited too. Finally just Marc and I headed to the beach, climbing big rocks and then smaller stones that were painful to our feet. The cliffs were covered with green grass and the margin of the beach was full of canes, yam and other plants. The shore was dark and it wasn’t sandy but formed of tiny dark grain-like stones; lots of things laid on it, from the highly poisonous jelly-fish called “caravela” to sea-weed and tree branches. Further up, by the green plants, plastic objects had been brought to shore by the tide.

Paddling out wasn't easy in the stormy surf, which caused that Marc got to the line up much ealier than me and we both were unable to locate each other, getting somewhat worried until we finally saw each other out there. Before the reunion I had plenty of time to enjoy the fabulous show offered by the natural landscape: under an intense dark sky, the pre-sunset warm, orange-ish sunlight hit the top part of the northern cliffs, leaving the beach in the shade, the dark sand inhabited, the rocks all around us, underneath and between the camp-site and the surf spot. The ocean disorganized by the wind but with warm water felt simultaneously my friend and my enemy: I thought of sharks and jelly-fish and how hard it seemed to catch those waves, fat and choppy, though strong. I tried to relax and forget the ocean's animal life for a while; I looked back to the cliff again and again to retain the image of the late sunlight on the cliff wall. Then Marc appeared and I forgot about the animals for a second; I sat and waited for the right wave to come, but seeing it take its time, I decided to paddle for a sort-of-broken wave and rode it. I was on it quite long and when I started paddling back I scratched the surface of a weedy rock with my fingernail, which scared me because I didn't know that there were rocks in that place (near the shore) and I figured that there might be many more that I didn't know of. I decided to paddle back in and get informed on the location of the rocks, only to learn at Marc's return that there are rocks all over the place and you have to be careful all the time.

We left our boards hidden at the beach and returned to the camp-site jumping and climbing rocks again. We changed clothes and helped set up a bonfire to cook dinner, sausages for the carnivors and fish for the non-red-meat-eaters, which we preceded snacking peanuts and bread and sharing a little bit of red wine. Along with a mix of small talk and interesting topics of debate we played the guitar and wondered about the nature of a kind of bird that sings at night to protect itself (or its territory?) and it's not related to the owl family.

We went to bed around 11p, pretty tired and looking forward to an announced great day of surf on Sunday.

Després d'un ruixat ben fort i de veure passar una curta desfilada tradicional en què els membres d'un grup de la comunitat donaven sopa, carn crua o cuita, pa i vi a aquells qui ho volguessin, en motiu de la celebració de la festa major del poble, que coincideix amb St. Joan i St. Pere, hem fet una sessió de ioga, hem esmorzat i hem fet la bossa per anar cap a una platja deserta a fer surf. Hem recollit la Laura i allà ens hem trobat amb els seus amics canaris i un anglès, que ja havien entrat a l'aigua. El Marc i jo hem fet una sessió just abans de la posta del sol, i després hem sopar tots plegats al costat d'un foc, on hem cuit salsitxes i peix local. El lloc és una passada, realment remot, tot i no ser gaire lluny de la segona població més gran de l'illa de Sao Miguel; la platja on hem fet surf, que no és davant d'on hem acampat, és de sorra fosca i al peus dels alts penya-segats coberts d'herba hi ha plantes diverses, entre les quals canyes i inyam. La llum ataronjada del capvespre contra la paret del penya-segat m'ha deixat impressionada, com de costum, i m'ha agradat especialment en contrast amb la foscor d'un cel amenaçador de pluja.

Domingo, 22 de Junho 2008

After what seems like a long night with not much rest, I woke up before sunrise and looked at the ocean. It was windy and the water surface still looked choppy. The sky turned pink after a short while and I went back out of the tent to takea few shots. The three Canarian guys and Laura also got up and pointed out that the wind might go down later on, so some of us continued to sleep. Marc and I decided to lie down in the perpendicular direction we had been doing it while it was dark, so that we could use the full length of the tent, not the width! We both slept really well until the sun started to warm up the tent at around 8am. Marc's theory for our bad sleep last night was the near-full moon.

Laura, Jon, Marc and I had breakfast and headed to the isolated beach. The others were already having fun in a surf that was more organized than yesterday. I had two sessions: in my morning session I shared the line-up with a local guy and Marc; Jon was at a different peak on our right, closer in, and the other guys were back on the beach, re-energizing themselves. I really enjoyed the water temperature, the sunshine and the views, but I only caught a couple of waves and one or two already-broken waves. One of the waves I caught was probably the biggest left I ever rode: despite maybe a short left I once enjoyed a lot at Steamer Lane (a very nice bottom turn on a head-high plus left at Middle Peak), today's bigger left was a (at least) head-high wave that I decided to just ride in the middle of the wall, without turning or anything, afraid that I would not control my movements on my back side and a board I didn't know.

My second session was alright. I was feeling a bit tired and the conditions hadn't improved. I paddled for a lot of waves and got wiped many times -which hadn't happened for a long time-, mainly because the bigger sets were not consistent and I was waiting too close in, but I would still try to catch those waves and I probably didn't paddle hard enough to avoid that just-breaking lip to hit me and take me down to the water. The other guys, I think, had had a pretty good session in the morning, and Marc said he had lots of fun in his afternoon session.

Laura, Jon and I wanted to get back to the city by the evening and Marc was willing to take us. We tried to go back to the camp-site some time after 4p but we couldn't make it without risking our integrity or that of our surfboards due to the high tide covering part of the rocky way. We got stuck there and waited for the tide to go down and cross over to the other side; Jon was brave and, tired of waiting, tried with the highest tide or nearly. After a few false starts, he made it save. The rest of us waited for over an hour and finally made it across with our backpacks and surfboards.

Back to the camp-site we packed and, since the other guys also decided to leave, we loaded the car, a little Ford Fiesta, with 5 people and their luggage, a dog, a ukaleile, a guitar and 6 surfboards on the roof. I made it to the pousada (or hostel) at 7:30p, missing the welcome meeting of my Portuguese language and culture course, but making it to our first “delicious” dinner there (definitely nothing to do with the tomato salad on the first night, or the grilled fish on the beach).

Avui, després de llevar-me per fer fotos abans de la sortida del sol, hem fet dues sessions de surf. En la del matí he agafat el que probablement era l'ona esquerra més gran de les que he agafat mai (que normalment agafo dretes tant perquè sóc regular com perquè a Santa Cruz, CA, la majoria d'ones són dretes). A la sessió de la tarda les ones m'han donat força revolcades perquè, en veure que no n'agafava gaires, m'he arriscat força. Quan hem volgut marxar perquè jo havia de ser a la ciutat al vespre per reunir-me amb el grup, i dues altres persones volien tornar més d'hora, ens hem quedat bloquejats a la platja deserta perquè la marea alta ens impedia tornar al lloc on havíem acampat... Hem esperat més d'una hora abans no ens hem atrevit a creuar la zona perillosa de roques i aigua, on les ones continuaven entrant. Després de recollir, tornar a la carretera i carregar el cotxe amb 6 taules, 5 persones i el seu equipatge, una guitarra, un ukaleile i un gos, he arribat a l'alberg després que acabés la reunió, però a temps de sopar un menjar no gaire bo al costat dels que seran els meus companys de viatge i d'aprenentatge durant 6 setmanes per terres portugueses.