Em preparação…

Our village will be ‘Em Festa’ in a little over a week’s time. Em festa translates into “In Party’ and that is exactly what it means. Starting on the Friday, our village will host a three day festival. There will be food, music and of course dancing. What more could you ask for? ‘Em preparação’, in preparation, for the party there is sausage to be made. Heaps. As our homemade sausage is a draw for crowds and a source of revenue for our village.

Although I do my best to avoid eating meat, anything having to do with my village, and therefore my culture, is something I want to be a part of. That is why I was the first person to show up with my chopping knife ready to help the other volunteers get through 1,500 kilos of pig meat.

It is no secret that I love my village. The primary reason is not its location or the look of it, but its people. They are fabulous. To begin with there is this woman, Nisa.

I give her, as many do, the credit for the life that pulses through our village, especially how that energy impacts our elderly population. They are individuals, who have weathered a lot and they are survivors. But it is in these years when life can become more difficult and more lonely that someone like Nisa makes all the difference. On days like this they walk or hobble across our village, some on crutches, to our salão because they are needed. Needed. Isn’t that a nice word at any age? Nisa, makes it very clear that there help is essential in making our festa a success, which it is. And their expertise be it in seasoning, stuffing, or curing the meat is critical. And it is.

So there we were, about 30 of us. Sitting, cutting but also talking and laughing. I heard stories about my mother. I asked questions about 25 de Abril. In perfect Portuguese form there were multiple conversations happening at once. And although I was a bit sore and quite tired by the end of the day, I will file this day in my memory bank as one of those days where I smiled the most.

And here we are….

Four years ago, if you had mentioned ANZAC Day I would have had to google it. But here we are, April 25th, 2012, in Portugal in the village of my birth making ANZAC biscuits to commemorate those Australian and New Zealand soldiers who lost their lives in war.

This ‘adventure’ we embarked on 3plus years ago has brought me back to where it all started. Literally and figuratively. As I sit here clicking away on my laptop I am meters away from the bedroom where I was born. Crazy, but true.

Today is not only ANZAC Day, but it is also 25 de Abril. The date commemorates Portugal’s Carnation Revolution. In 1974 through a peaceful military coup, which was supported through civil resistance, democracy was returned to Portugal. This day is not one my family celebrated in the States, but it always resounded with me as we emigrated to America 5 days before the revolution. As a very little girl, I would have been oblivious to any national events, but that decision my parents made to go to America is one that I will forever be grateful for. I am fully aware that my place in this world and my good fortune rests very much in that event. Our emigrating. Mom, dad, America….thank you.