Part 12.
The Ageing Hippies. They've left their farm in Suffolk and are travelling around the European festivals this summer. They have left some young people from the village looking after the 'crop' and hope that some of it might be left when they get home. As a break from music festivals they thought it might be fun to see what it's like in Portugal with all the football going on.
Bill and Marcie are just hitting their sixties, but feel as young as they ever did. They spend a lot of time with their children's friends who in turn think that Bill and Marcie are coolest parents out, and lap up Marcie's worldly spiritual advice that she doles out to them with camomile tea to destress them from their high powered high stress city jobs. As a result Bill and Marcie always have plenty of visitors to their farm so they feel like they have the commune they always wanted, even though it's Marcie who spends hours each day cooking for everyone and sorting out everyone's problems and going to the village to buy all the groceries and making beds even though she is fundamentally against making beds but it makes the city visitors happier.
Bill is nut brown with twinkly eyes. He spends all day outside, fixing things, turning wood in his shed, wandering around the farm and the woods, just doing stuff. He is a charmer and the female visitors to his farm just love him. Marcie understands him. She has done many I-Ching readings about Bill's 'twinkling' and always reassures herself that she must accept his 'twinkling' otherwise it could disturb his energy flow.
They will magnetically attract young friends while they are on tour this summer and will already have a minor entourage following them to Portugal in June. Marcie might even bring her guitar and they can sing Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell songs on the beaches.
May 31, 2004
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 11.
Sheila and Janice. Not here for the football itself, Janice has come to make notes for some articles she's writing on the "peculiar habits of male bonding and courtship rituals when in large, predominantly male, gatherings" for her university's women's journal "Vitriolica!" (!). She heads the "Women's Studies" course at the University of Central Angliashire. She worries about trips to countries less politically correct than her own (i.e. ALL countries except the United States and the non-seal-clubbing districts of Canada) Should she take leaflets? Or maybe she shouldn't be so uptight and forget that not everybody in the world is enlightened enough to openly discuss the challenges facing lesbianism in the 21st century. Anyway, Sheila will be there to remind her that other people have bigger problems.
Sheila, Janice's life partner, has come to give Janice moral support in the face of all this testosterone. They don't normally take holidays together, too much of a convention that everyone else conforms to and gets into 'discussions' about all year round. Normally she goes on hiking holidays with her "Christian Women's Choristers and Ramblers Association of Mid Angliashire" doing fund raising rambles around the world, but she has always fancied seeing Lisbon and thought it might be fun to watch the football from a distance.
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 10.
The Red-Haired family. The two boys are MANIACAL about football, it IS their life, and they play in their primary school team, at least the first ten minutes before either of them suffers an asthma attack. Football is their father's life, and he and the kids are their mother's life. So it is only natural that they come to Portugal for the football, the first major international tournament that both the boys are old enough to go to... except she wishes it wasn't quite so international. She has been to the Spanish costas before, and even they with their english pubs and fish 'n' chips make her feel all yucky and foreignized.
They are all Man Utd. fans, though, like 99% of Man Utd. fans, they live nowhere near Manchester. They wear their Man U shirts with pride, even though the Man U red clashes horribly with their normally pink, cerise with sunburn after a day, skin tones, and their bright bright orange hair.
They will spend the ten days they are here looking like rabbits caught in the headlights, terrified of all the foreignness. When they go home, she will vow "never again", until the next time,... the German World Cup....poor thing.
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 9.
Couple i. Doreen and Graham. As a special treat for Graham when he retired, Doreen said they could come for the football, on the proviso that they didn't go to any matches. She didn't mind if he watched them on televisions in nice quiet side street cafés (!) where she could lament the absence of a nice cup of "proper" tea and a few biscuits and complain about the extraordinary heat and worry about the amount of dust piling up in the house while they are away. She's not sure about the Portuguese food, worries that Graham is not getting his proper vegetable intake since he doesn't like salad and she doesn't believe there are other vegetables on the menus.
Graham thinks Portugal is super, thinks the girls are rather pretty and this weather is just lovely, roses must love it, he sees a few beautiful gardens on the way from the airport and wonders how lovely it would be to have a beautiful garden in this lovely place. He doesn't mind the lack of tea, he gets quite enough of it at home thank you, on the hour every hour now he's retired. And he likes salad and thinks he may try something really foreign tomorrow...he'll order when Doreen is in the loo. And he's beginning to feel a little self-conscious about the socks Doreen makes him wear with his jesus sandals.
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 8.
He is a retired banker. She is his wife. They married in the nineteen fifties, when life was still simple. Not much has changed. She still comes on holiday in regulation Faux Naval Style - colours: navy and gold; stripes and navy type insignia the only embellishments. He comes on holiday in his cricket whites (the trousers anyway) and his most outrageous shirts (the ones with red or pink stripes, rather than the blue). He wears his precious rollable uppable panama hat, which contrasts nicely with his bright-red-high-blood-pressure-my-head-is-about-to-explode look. He carries a handbag, the one he stores in his office for foreign trips but would never be seen dead using in Britain. They usually go to Tuscany or the Dordogne, but felt like something different this year. Seeing that prices to travel to Portugal had gone up suddenly this summer, they decided that it must have become a jolly classy place again. The last time they came in the early sixties, to Estoril, it was super, but they soon noticed prices going down, and decided to stay away.
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 7.
Baby New Agers. They will be here for the football. She doesn't think it's a very good idea, though. Football is extravagant, not a life necessity and it smacks of globalisation. But HE wanted to come to see the footie, being a boy and everything, and what can she say? Does she want to be a control fascist and say that no he can't go? Does she want to deny his gender, the weaker one spiritually, and go against nature and say no, he can't go? Maybe he needs to come and surround himself with a sea of testosterone to rekindle his warrior instincts before their upcoming protest against a small wood in Cheshire being dug up for a new IKEA. She is worried about the effect this visit will have on Raven Pixie Boot, her 10 month old son. He will be corrupted with all sorts of commercialism and globalism what with coca cola and macdonalds all over the place.
He just nods his head knowingly... and is screaming inside..."I'm going to the football, I'm going to the football! YAYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!"
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 7.
The Baby New Agers. They will be here for the football. She doesn't think it's a very good idea, though. Football is extravagant, not a life necessity and it smacks of globalisation. But HE wanted to come to see the footie, being a boy and everything, and what can she say? Does she want to be a control fascist and say that no he can't go? Does she want to deny his gender, the weaker one spiritually, and go against nature and say no, he can't go? Maybe he needs to come and surround himself with a sea of testosterone to rekindle his warrior instincts before their upcoming protest against a small wood in Cheshire being dug up for a new IKEA. She is worried about the effect this visit will have on Raven Pixie Boot, her 10 month old son. He will be corrupted with all sorts of commercialism and globalism what with coca cola and macdonalds all over the place.
He just nods his head knowingly... and is screaming inside..."I'm going to the football, I'm going to the football! YAYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!"
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 6.
The Ladettes. Ladettes are girls who want to be seen to be as tough and cool as lads (eng. boys). This lifestyle obviously needs to incorporate football. They are not pretending though, they do really love football. They understand the offside rule and know the zodiac sign of every player in the premiership. They can drink most of their male counterparts under the table (as long as it's "bacardi breezers" that they are drinking and not beer). They may have been to the Algarve before, but Lisbon, Porto, Braga etc. are going to be a bit of a shock and they'll end up eating a lot of mars bars, crisps and fanta orange from minimercados because they won't even dare to go inside any restaurant or café worried they might encounter something foreign. They will be giving most things in Portugal dirty looks, but don't be offended by them, they just don't "get it".
They both sport what is known as a "council face-lift", that is, their hair scraped back into a tight, tight pony tail, taking their eybrows with it. They live with their mums and work in supermarkets or bakeries where they can't show off their football/ladettes status, since they have to wear the uniform. Thus, they spend all the rest of their time in footie strips and trackie bots (football shirts and tracksuit bottoms).
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 5.
Most deffo here for the footie and most definitely NOT here together. The chap on the right will constitute 98% of the 60,000 english visitors (ugh) to Portugal for this Euro tournament. His name is Dave or Andy or Rob or Mark. He is a nice bloke. He will drink plenty of SUPER BOCK but only the young inexperienced versions of him will get horribly drunk, puking in the gutter or trying it on with local (unimpressed) girls.
He will have learnt to say "se faz favor" or "obrigado" but anything in between will stay firmly in his phrasebook.
He may bring his girlfriend who claims she really likes football, but she just wants to come to Portugal for a suntan.
The fellow on the left has defected from rugger to football for the month of June. He has been to Portugal many times before, mostly sailing hols in Cascais and sometimes in the Algarve. He speaks a good amount of portuguese, but can't help speaking it with his strong english public school accent.
He will be wearing his rugger shirt collar up, his sensible shorts that he goes sailing in, and sensible leather boating loafers with no socks. He seems like a gaumless fool, but the things he does in life he tends to do very well, be it sailing or trading on the stock market.
If he does have a girlfriend she won't be here, since she wouldn't want to be seen dead at anything to do with football. Rugby is her game (it's the strong thighs, y'know).
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 4.
Okay, so they aren't a couple, and don't even suggest that they might be or "you'll get your facking 'ead kicked in". These are your common or garden ENGLISH hooligans (I say English, Scottish hoolies are rather different and since they're not playing in this final, there is no need to risk getting my "f'ck'n heed kecked un!" by my scottish relatives).
Now, the British police forces say that they have the means to keep 2000 odd of these delightful hooligans at home, by keeping their passports. Hmm. Vit is not entirely sure this is going to work since hooligans have little baby brother hooligans whose names don't show up on the register yet. But we will see.
They are only interested in fighting and are absolutely fearless. Their tattos will warn you off. They will say things like "I am a TWAT" or "Bastard" and probably some rude things too. Do not approach them. If you are approached by them, claim you don't speak english, even if you are a professor of English Studies at the University of Lisbon, Coimbra, Braga, WHEREVER, you no speaky ze inglish! OK? Just don't risk it. They are suspicious of anyone and never, EVER look at them! or their bird!
The fat ones occasionally try to be a little pleasant, but that is just so they get fed more. Beer is extremely cheap here, compared to Britain, so they will happily drink all day and all night. Oh, goody.
Oh, Portugal, enjoy the peace while you may.
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 3.
Well off english "city breakers", they probably live in the Cotswolds, or maybe Sussex. They are not here for the football (she thinks).
He is a landowner and does "THINGS" all day on his land so has a healthy rugged complexion. He is used to getting stuck in to anything mucky, horse shit, tractors stuck in the mud, whatever, so he is feeling a little self-conscious in the lemon yellow and sky blue outfit his dear wife bought him especially for this weekend away. He is very well travelled, has been to most European countries and several American ones, north and south, coming from an extremely wealthy AND mildly aristocratic family. He is delighted to be around while the footie is going on, though obviously won't be going to any matches.
His wife, with her all-day-long prozac induced smile, prettily looks around the pretty things of Lisbon. She has perfect make up all day, even when the temperatures soar to the 90s (30s metric!).
She booked this holiday hoping to find that Lisbon is like the Cascais and Estoril of the 1950s, havens of bouganvillea and englishness. But she shan't be disappointed come what may since her prozac prescription is too high for that (she has been on it, since becoming depressed a year or two after marrying said rich landowner, once she discovered life wasn't quite as glamourous married to the gentry as she thought and finds herself sitting in their large farmhouse with absolutely nothing to do, since she is no domestic goddess, and living an awfully long way from the shops). You may be forgiven for thinking that everything her husband says amuses her terribly, but it's just the antidepressants.
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Part 2.
These two have definitely come for the football, they may come together or with their respective gangs of mates, who are pretty similar to themselves. It was only when the travel agent suggested that they stay in the Algarve when they visited Portugal for the footie did they realize that the Algarve was not in Spain. They had holidayed in Faro three times before this.
They don't speak any language other then "Gutter" so they communicate with anyone foreign by shouting english at them though they did bring their Spanish phrase book with them. They don't understand that foreigners DO understand hand gestures, including the extremely offensive ones.
When they leave Faro to go to footie matches elsewhere in the country they are going to suffer HUGE culture shock. They will find that in most places there are no fish 'n' chips, steak 'n' chips or scampi 'n' chips, but thank god, McDonalds will be somewhere nearby.
Anything that she doesn't understand will be "DISGUSTING!". Anything he doesn't understand will probably be punched in the gob.
They will be drunk from the minute they stepped on the plane at Luton Airport until they either leave or get locked up for the night. They will suffer from chronic sunburn, but this is a badge of honour worn with pride when they get home to London / Birmingham / Liverpool / Bristol / Northampton / Sheffield / Newcastle / Glasgow / Leeds / Plymouth / Manchester...
Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourist - Euro 2004
Welcome to Vit 'n' Madge's Guide to British Tourists - Euro 2004 Supplement. Just in time for the football, a brief guide to the British tourists you can expect to see in the cities of Portugal this June.
Part I.
They most resolutely will NOT be here for the football. They will, however, be visiting Lisbon, Évora, Coimbra and Braga during the football tournament, but it WON'T be for the football. They believe the importance placed on football is a sign of the decadence of our societies and will go around the place frowning at everyone. Not that it takes football to make them frown. Everyone and everything has something for them to disapprove of.
HE is the grumpier of the two and hasn't been known to laugh since he first went to University twenty odd years ago, when he joined all the "anti-fun" societies. The only thing he ever drinks is "Real Ale" something he isn't going to find in Lisbon, so he will just frown at his wife/life partner when she orders a bottle of Sagres to quench her thirst. He will treat the Portuguese with utmost disdain for their lack of obvious care of environment, but will be the first to complain bitterly, to his wife/life partner, when they are less than polite back to him. He wears socks with his birkenstock sandals, but thinks this is okay, since he is still just under 40.
His wife/life partner is a master of passive-aggressive tactics to get her way with him, but he always believes he has the upper hand. They have no children, since it would be a crime to bring children into such a decadent and corrupt world.
May 28, 2004
Fado - Portuguese music of the Sad
Music that celebrates misery, suffering, and SAUDADES! (saudades is a more poetic and miserable translation of "missing" as in "I'm missing you")
All the most miserable people in Portugal are gathered together in Lisbon or Coimbra and sent to Fado school where they learn to sing/caterwaul FADO. Women "fadistas" are encouraged to wear nasty black polyester macramé shawls, to make them look even MORE miserable. And then they sing about really sad stuff, like the day their kitten died or when their first boyfriend ran off with their best mate.
Sometimes the songs are more upbeat...and middle aged women bounce (literally) up and down a bit to them, clapping their hands gently...BUT THEY'RE STILL MISERABLE. Highly warblesome and strangulated, the fadista sings with a guitarist and they do that jazz thing of giving each other knowing looks in the quiet bits to make you think they know something you don't.
Incoming foreign tourists are shepherded into Fado Houses where they are strapped into their seats and made to listen to a whole evening of Fado and to eat favas com enchidos (broad bean stew with various sausages and their stuffings/unfaithful husbands, sic).
footnote: before I get any comments asking what's wrong with favas, there's nothing wrong with favas, actually madge and I LOVE favas. Fado on the other hand, we aren't going to apologize for not liking...
footnote: before I get any more death threats because I dared say such stupid things about Fado, please, I'm just kidding! Get a grip!
May 27, 2004
School Uniform
Twelve year olds. Don't you just love them. This is a specific variety of
twelve year old... the kind that lives outside of the big cities, in the
satellite towns...the kind who walks home from school in ones and twos
dressed like this...along the back roads of their town or village...that
hang out around the place bitching about each other...comparing boyfriend
notes...comparing mobile phones and hair styles...the kind that you DREAD
your own girls turning into...
footnote: "puta", for any english-english readers, in this context means
tarty, but the sound of PUTA, poo-tuh, just sounds so much more
onomatopoeically satisfying.
All I really want to say is...ugh.
May 26, 2004
Sound bites...NOT!
The Sound Bite - the curse of modern television news...
The LACK of the Sound Bite - the curse of modern PORTUGUESE television news.
In Portuguese Television School, it is taught that if you can use a hundred
words where eight and a half will do, use another two hundred;
make sure that football comes before anything that might otherwise be
important;
if any really gruesome films of dead bodies, blood and guts, murders etc.
put them on screen unedited, right around dinner time;
if you are a woman reporter, make sure you look fashionable. it doesn't
matter if you look crap, just look fashionable.
if you could can find someone on the street to give you a "vox pop" make
sure it is someone who isn't going to be succinct and to the point and then
record about an hour's worth of footage and then cut out only the REALLY
boring bits. (then find their next door neighbour to do the same).
May 25, 2004
Portuguese Road Movie...
Okay, for the very sensitive, the dogs are sunbathing again, the fires are
beautiful sunbursts shining on the upsidedown cars and the blood coloured
liquid is paint someone spilled on the ground for a laugh...
But, for a change Madge is doing the writing and I'm being serious. It
doesn't happen very often, so pay attention! For those who don't already
realize, I do actually love this country. It is very beautiful and has
enormous potential... (marsellrebelldesosa says so! Portugal Positivo!!! for
the love of sweet jesus, what next!)... but I hate, HATE, the roads and I
hate the cars and I hate the people driving those cars. I fear for my life
and those of my family every time I drive further than the supermarket.
In the five years I have lived here I must have seen three times more
car/lorry/bus wrecks than all my life of driving around in Britain. I don't
actually drive around Portugal much. I used to drive or be driven around
Britain quite a lot. Most people drive too fast, some drive too slow. Every
one of them thinks that they can defy physics, even though every one of them
knows someone who has been affected by a road accident. Everyone.
What does it take to stop this? Go and read the articles and forums at
ACA-M.org and Paz na Estrada Blog.
And then I want you all to comment here on this post, anonymously if you
want, make up an email address, I don't care, and tell me, in english or
portuguese, WHY YOU think so many people have to die on these roads?
Tomorrow, I swear I'll be funny. honest. Love to you all, Madge
May 24, 2004
What have they got to say?
Manager: Well, right, there was this BALL and some blokes and they like KICKED it around, like, and erm...
Player: yeah...
Manager: And there was grass too...
Player: yeah... and I kicked it into the erm thingy...the goal...
Manager: Oh, yeah, that was good...
Player: erm, yeah.
Manager: And there were a lot of people shouting at us.
Player: yeah, the bastards.
May 23, 2004
We are the blofeldeenies.... la la la la la!
here you are...remind you of anyone?
blofeld
ERNST STAVRO BLOFELD by Majolica Webb
:crazy:
you could also go and do a search for "blofeld" in google images to see the "real" blofeld! my hero.
May 21, 2004
Strange Fruit
Well, strange people, actually, but strange fruit is a far better title and
more of an attention grabber I think...
Now. Despite a lack of respect for rules demonstrated by many of the
Portuguese (sic comments...) an outward respect for other people is
practised by almost everyone. Polite forms of the word "you" are used and
one doesn't use disgusting swearwords in front of one's mother-in-law (that
is, if you've actually been informed by your husband that it IS indeed a
disgusting swearword that you are using in front of your mother-in-law).
Anyway....the vast majority of people will be outwardly respectful to you,
especially if you are a woman. Even in minor incidents of road rage there is
still a little restraint between the sexes, or rather, I can't lipread in
Portuguese yet.
So, your Vitriolica would like to know.... what the hell is this?
If you are a woman, this will have happened to you. A crappy car with three
or four men, indeterminate in age but youngish (youngish to me these days is
under fifty!), drives right up your arse to your rear bumper, all of them
laughing for who knows what reason, then overtakes you on the crest of a
hill or on a tight bend, slows right down in front of you so you have to
slam on your brakes and Madge's children get worried in the back of the car,
and this delightful young man starts making lewd and rather pathetic
gestures at you from the rear window before they speed off, no doubt off to
get more super bock and fags.
It is at times like these that I would like it to be legal for women, only
women, to carry small RPG launchers to aim out of the window and straight at
the petrol tank of these chimpanzees, (just to frighten them you
understand).
again Madge apologizes for the car drawing - it was supposed to look crap
though
May 20, 2004
The Beach
Today, fewer words, more pictures.
Madge took her little dears to the beach yesterday. She remembered while driving through Arràbida why she does actually love this place...
And then she got to the beach...
the beach
(okay, so she MAY be exaggerating a little).
May 19, 2004
Sport in Portugal 101
Part 1. Sport for the provincial middle-aged.
Football, as EVERYONE knows, is the national sport. (Even an alien would know this if it landed in front of a television when a telejornal is on, since the footie always comes before everything else..."Tonight, Benfica did something somewhere.... and in other news, the USA has found some bloke, erm,... Saddam Hussein I think his name is...") and since your Vitriolica knows sod all about football, and since 99% of portuguese blogs do politics or football, or politics AND football, she won't be doing anything about football here.
But, apart from footie, there are plenty more sports to choose from, to watch or participate in. There are the more usual sports like rugby, hockey, trampolining, gymnastics (hey, I only know this because I am forced to watch Canal Panda with Madge's children when I'm babysitting)and watching the telly.
But there is one sport that those in the cities may not be aware of. It is APE STUFFING.
Ape Stuffing? Doesn't that sound rather cruel? I didn't think there were any apes in Portugal. What is this woman going on about NOW? I hear you all screaming at your computer screens....
Well, the APE in question is the PIAGGIO APE, the-little-moped-turned-into-a-miniature-truck-thing so popular in the small towns of this great nation.
The SPORT is to see how much human or otherwise living flesh you can fit into the APE at one time at the same time as driving the ape along the main road, while smoking a cigarette and looking very grumpy and to see how long a traffic queue you can accumulate behind you.
Of course, emotion runs high at these events, especially when the driver can't decide whether to put his wife or his mother in law in the front with him.
It's SUPER fun. Come out of the cities and try it for yourselves!
If you want to learn more about the Piaggio Ape, click here, and find out about the global and strangely worrying interest in the PIAGGIO APE.
May 18, 2004
Physics?
A strange phenomenon is at work in Portugal. A good many car parks have been built in recent years, above and below ground, safe, weatherproof environments in which to keep one's car while one goes about one's business. The phenomena, though, is not that the car parks were built, but the strange magnetic force field that REPELS cars from their doors (some cars do make it past the force field, but they mostly belong to tourists and foreigners, it is believed that they may have developed a hidden device that is being kept a secret from the Portuguese).
So the unfortunate car owners have to park on the pavement, but this doesn't affect the disabled and young mothers with pushchairs too much as they are already used to having to walk on the road since the pavement was long since destroyed and unmanageable due to neglect and er...car parking.
Cars continue to be broken into for their car stereos and CDs and now they may even be clamped by the city councils. The disgruntled and disaffected car owners now have to walk the five minutes all the way back to their apartment.
There is one benefit of this car repelling problem. The kind young men who offer to find you a parking space (even if you have already found it) get a little bit extra pocket money to spend in the café later.
an apology: Madge does not draw cars, because she is not a boy and did not spend her formative years scribbling cars in her workbooks at school and university (obviously she scribbled babies and flowers and pink stuff) so she apologizes for using photos of cars in her drawing today, if she had drawn them we would have been waiting till next year for this picture.
...oh, and if you are a very sensitive soul, the dog is sunbathing.
May 17, 2004
Portuguese Cuisine
Lesson One
First, please examine this diagram:-
cowhands
Hmmmm, appetising aren't they?
My acquired Portuguese family also eat something they call "Bacalhau in Snot", something poor Madge can't even draw for you because the last time Bacalhau in Snot was put before her she was pregnant... you can imagine the rest, since the "in Snot" description is really quite apt.
And I am still looking for an explanation for Sky Bacon - toucinho de céu. It doesn't come from the sky, or heaven, and it's not bacon.
May 14, 2004
The Tummy Hierarchy
Every nation has its own "Tummy Hierarchy" and they are all different. Cultural differences, mostly related to food and beer consumption, influence the size and shape of the middle aged man's belly in each country. Britain has its own specific Tummy Hierarchy, as does France, Germany and most certainly the United States of Lard America that your own Vitriolica recognizes.
In Portugal however there is a strangely visible correlation between the social status of the tummy owner and the height of that tummy. see diagram
The "low slung" tummy may belong to the taxi driver, the tasca waiter, the newspaper kiosk attendant, etc.
The "large balloon up the jumper" tummy can belong to the town councillor, the trade unionist, the builder, the shopkeeper, etc.
The "is he holding his breath?" tummy belongs to the extremely rich and/or powerful man. He may be a banker, a lawyer, a statesman, his high-held tummy saying "get out of my way, pipsqueak, I give the orders around here!"
But, it must be said that the tummy hierarchy is now metamorphizing, due to societal shift and the modern quest for healthier living, so in a few years the Tummy Chapter in the Encyclopaedia Lusitanica will have to be revised.
May 13, 2004
Portuguese Law - statute MMXIV
Sopinha...
It is a legal requirement for every Portuguese citizen to eat at the very
least one bowl of soup every day. It has to be a Portuguese soup pertaining
to one of the following categories:
1. Salty yellow liquidized indefinable vegetable soup - It may have other
sliced or chopped vegetables in it. It may be used as an excuse to not eat
another item of fruit or vegetable matter in that 24 hour period.
2. Caldo Verde - only to be eaten if one is a SERIOUS vegetable eater - too
much green matter could be a shock to the system.
3. Canja - boiled chicken juice with overcooked rice or tiny slimey pasta
bits - if you're REALLY lucky, you get a WHOLE chicken's foot in it - the
equivalent of Jewish Chicken Soup, ie. for the sick and convalescing. This
does NOT replace the need for eating other vegetable matter, but some small
children may claim that it does.
Enforcement of said statute.
The Nation need not expend any law enforcement personnel on this matter
since every portuguese citizen has either a REAL or a METAPHORICAL
grandmother standing over their shoulder, watching them finish EVERY LAST
MOUTHFUL (ou avó ZANGA-SE!) see illustraton
May 12, 2004
How two species communicate
Now, I know it is hard to believe but your Vitriolica was once a teenager too. In the heady eighties, when I was young and... aaahh... hmmmm... er...ANYWAY, I WAS a teenager and I was the girl (Yes, Sr. LB, I am a GIRL as well as being truly ENGLISH) equivalent to figure i. above. This teenager I get. This type of teenager I wholly expect my children to become. I know this teenager (at least, I used to 88|), the kind of music he listens to, the places he goes, what he does in the dark recesses of his bedroom, the drugs he takes and those he refuses, the books he reads and the websites he frequents.
But Teenager ii. I have no idea about. He is a peculiarly Portuguese invention, this one. I don't mean his clean cut-ness. Clean teenagers exist everywhere, though obviously in reduced numbers since global advertising campaigns originating from the UK, (the origin of the truly gross teenager) inform the whole world's youth that scummy is COOL. Clean teenagers even existed in my teens, they were called the Benetton Babies then.
But THIS clean, sweet smelling teenager is super clean, super sweet smelling, super brilliant white. He wears only "rugger" style shirts from Sacoor Bros or Gant or Benetton clothes, in all the glorious shades of white and blue, the more daring sometimes go for a pale pink stripe. He wears those leather loafer-cum-deck shoes so popular with "Lisbon Man goes Casual". His most astonishing feature, though, is his HAIR. Not only is it sparklingly clean, with a shine on it to make his mother proud, it is swept and vigorously combed into this 1970s stylee, so "Dukes of Hazard" or "Chips", and I can't work out HOW, these boys with this particularly SILLY hairdo still manage to SWAGGER down the street, while looking like Beau Duke in pastel three quarter length pants.
Obviously one never sees teenager i. and teenager ii. in the same gaggle, luckily Madge has a good imagination and managed her drawing of a very unlikely meeting of the species.
May 11, 2004
Three faces of Eva
Another illustration I ripped out of Encyclopaedia Lusitanica.
These are just three stereotypes of Portuguese womanhood, the "Bata", the "Open Necked Shirt" and the "Beige, Gold and Big Hair". There are many more types covered in the encyclopaedia, but I would say a large majority of women could fall into groups one and two and a little tiny, but oh so visible, minority would fall into group three.
1. The Bata. This lady may be of any age, though at this time she is more likely to be over the age of forty years. In fact, she may or may not wear a Bata, but she is a WORKER. She toils from the moment she awakes in the morning, keeping the family going, keeping the house and home in good working order. She may also have a full time job, in which case she toils just as hard at work as she does at home. She keeps an immaculate house, immaculate children and/or grandchildren and tries to keep an immaculate husband. She relaxes with a bit of ironing in the evening in front of the television. She has never had time to take up smoking.
2. The Open Necked Shirt. This lady is a career lady. Her uniform varies, but very almost always includes the open necked shirt and similar hair do to that illustrated above. As in every other place in the world she has to work twice as hard as any man to reach and maintain her position, but she does it and has the hardened expression and several divorces to prove it. She also has an immaculate home because she is so rarely there. To relax, she smokes and does some more work and then goes out with her career girlfriends in the evening to discuss work and divorce.
3. The Beige, Gold and Big Hair. The darkest thing this lady ever wears is her mascara and eyeliner. Everything else is in fleshtones, goldtones and beige. She may have a job but it will be a job in name only, she won't actually have to DO anything, she may be the wife of a rich man, but whatever she SEEMS to do on the surface, she is a master of the art of making doing NOTHING look divinely difficult. She openly sneers at all those she deems beneath her, and is unutterably rude to shop keepers, hairdressers, fellow humans. So that she doesn't have to eat, she smokes. She lives to fill the pages of Caras and Ola magazines.
May 10, 2004
The many faces of BATA
Here is a page I have ripped out of the Encyclopaedia Lusitanica (as opposed to Britanica, obv.) As you will see I have put on my own translated labels over the original portugese.
BATApaedia
As you can see, the Bata comes in several different shapes and while differentiation in style most certainly does not reflect the SOCIAL status of the wearer, it DOES reflect her personality and modus operandi with regard to her daily life and work.
Obviously, the TENT model is only resorted to in two circumstances:
a. In mid August when it's 40ºC outside and the wearer doesn't seem to care that polyester is NOT the most BREATHABLE fabric, or
b. When the wearer has exceeded all records and dress sizes and wears the TENT model all year round because that is all there is left that fits. i.e. :gran: x 2
The cult of Marsellrebelldasoza
Every Sunday evening Marsellrebelldesosa talks to the nation. And the nation listens. He wears a perma-tan (for I have seen him conducting his tv church via direct satellite link from his holidays in the islands) and a smart blazer and the people love him. Between 8.30 and 9.30 (actually you can only guess at the hour, punctuality doesn't figure even in TV, let alone the rest of portuguese life) a hush descends on the land as Marsellrebelldesosa glows out of the screen and into the hearts and minds of the people.
Along with Marsellrebelldesosa's brilliant blue eyes, the tv channel is all brightly designed to help mesmerize the congregation, primary colours, words flashing by at the bottom of the screen. Marsellrebelldesosa sometimes talks for 45 minutes, sometimes for hours on end but no-one dares turn off the tv or turn over to their favourite brazilian telenovella such is Marsellrebelldesosa's power over them.
Old ladies quote him in the street "MarsellrebelldeSosa said so, it must be true!" Otherwise individual thinking academics ring each other after his sunday sermon and giggle like little schoolgirls "hoo hoo, did you hear what MarsellrebelldeSosa said? ooh hoo".
This is the cult of Marsellrebelldesosa.
May 06, 2004
The Portugues Customer Services Manual
Apart from approximately twenty percent of employees in the retail and services industries, everyone follows the "Portuguese Customer Services Manual"
The twenty percent who do not follow it are either Brazilians or the odd Portugese (including some of staff of my local shops) who are either pathologically pleasant or have realized that being agreeable with one's customers and clients actually makes one's job easier and probably makes one either more tips or more sales.
The eighty percent who read the Customer Services Manual seem to take it as a religious text and follow it word for word. I give you here some excerpts:
Article 1 sub sect 1a. Primary Rule: Do Not Smile for ANY reason (obvious exceptions: mother, sister, granny, next door neighbour, etc. when they call in to the work place for a chat)
Article 14 sub sect 2c. Do not make eye contact with your current customer, instead watch disdainfully anyone who is not dressed to your exacting standards, i.e. not dressed EXACTLY as you are (under your uniform if that applies).
Article 19 sub sect 1f. If your customer happens NOT to be of the Portuguese race OR a native speaker make it QUITE clear that they are not going to be understood, WHATEVER THEY MIGHT SAY. (There are some people in our midst who may have learnt to speak the language extremely well and extremely quickly, namely some Ukrainians who have an extraordinary knack for this language. BE ON YOUR GUARD. JUMP on the first word that they pronounce incorrectly and claim that you don't know what on earth they are talking about).
Article 46 sub sect 2g Never EVER be influenced by your co-workers who are incredibly pleasant to their customers. Do NOT let it wear off on you. REMEMBER the MANUAL... PLEASANTNESS DOESN'T PAY.
Article 46 sub sect 2h There are some who pretend to be pleasant just to make the customer feel at their ease. They may think this profits them, but IN THE LONG RUN SMILING ALL DAY AT BLOODY CUSTOMERS GIVES THEM WRINKLES and we don't want WRINKLES do we?
Article 994 DESPERATE MEASURES. If all else fails, follow the example of this young co-worker in a Supermarket near you, who when she can't muster up the energy to be plain rude and unpleasant just does this face at her customers until they give up, leave their groceries at the checkout and go home...
May 05, 2004
Portugese Law - part XXI - subsection 1a
In Portugal it is illegal to let one's children go bare-foot. It is commonly known that if they do not wear any shoes they will instantly get sick and end up in hospital, their mother having to bear the guilt for the rest of her life.
The penalty for contravening this law is bloody earache from all old ladies in the vicinity for the duration of the contravention.