Dark clouds above Termas-da-Azenha
We are doing well, thank you. We’re doing the spring cleaning. Cleaning inside and out, throwing away, planting little flowery plants, pruning trees. Washing curtains. Cleaning walls with high pressure, paint, scratch, paste, mow. “Yes! Broes (my son), they went out! Come on, we can go!” Of course, there are guests in the meantime, and
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All dolled up during the holiday
All my theater clothing went, long ago, in that big truck that brought all our belongings to Portugal. It spent the first year in boxes, because it took a while before all those things could be distributed throughout our little village. The first occasion for using it was a colorful evening by the first group
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Confidence in our (mineral) water
It was such a day today. It was already clear last night that the kitchen faucet had health problems. The hot water tap turned loosely and made a strange sound. It is one of the 9 kitchen faucets here in the village, and the most used. Used day in, day out; just keep on running
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To the Embassy to renew your passport
Sometimes it seems like I have a special talent. A talent to attract difficulties. Everything that could go wrong, I’d already figured out, so that no longer can happen. My conviction is: everything you thought of before, will not happen. That means that sometimes I walk around with a head full of apocalyptic scenarios –
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Learning portuguese, poispois!
I have been listening for a year to the professora of the children, during the break. After the first confusion about where the boys (in those days 6 & 8) had to go to school, it turned out that they didn’t speak much Portuguese yet. And we were not exactly fluent, even though we had
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Volunteers: the yard wanderer
Henk comes by in the kitchen, when I’m preparing everything for the nasi goreng for tonight. “Come and have a look, if you can spare the time”, he says, and walks ahead of me to his workplace for today. Volunteer Henk has been here several times, parks his camper next to the reception, and starts
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A Day out in Lisbon on a scooter
I’m recovering from my walk in Lisbon on an empty terrace on the busy road, almost where I need to be. Half an hour before the agreed time. I was – as always – optimistic, and thought I could walk from Santa Apolónia. A nice little walk from the trainstation to my destination. I thought.
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Portuguese are machismo – or am I wrong?
Yeah, well, I can’t help it that my voice sounds quite sarcastic … “Eh … don’t mention it, senhor!” He came driving up, and could turn right right before me. He doesn’t have to stop and I just have to refrain a bit. With a little attention, it all goes by itself. Officially I’m on
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Skeptical about the septic tank
“Yes … that is completely blocked …” I say somewhat delusively, “and I don’t really feel like messing around in it …” It also doesn’t smell particularly attractive, and I see granules of corn floating around in the brownish water. The neighbor also sees it: “Yes, we eat a lot of corn …” he says
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