|
Catherine "Kitsy" Symroski (Cameron) (1964)
"Where 'ere we go, where 'ere we do, we'll always have a thought for you, Paris High School!"
I relocated from Columbia MO to Coimbra, Portugal in late July 2023. My consultancy with a Missouri energy firm had been smacked hard by Covid and cast a drought in their overseas business, so, what the heck: I retired.
I have a cute, first floor (up one flight, this is Europe) studio apartment on a pedestrian street in "old" Coimbra, the neighborhood of "Baixa".
Across the street is a Jehovah Witness church and does the minister give his congregation a bollocking on Sunday mornings at 10am! I cannot understand the words, but I can hear him give 'em what for through the windows! Just down the street is "Maria Sardinia" restaurant, blue tables in the square under winter sunshine. I love living quietly on my own but can walk out the door, around the corner from the train station, cross the Santa Clara bridge to monthly jazz night at Cafe Concerto to chats with fellow expats over delicious Douro red wine. And walk home alone across the broad and silent Mondrego River at 9:30 pm with every confidence of my safety.
Grocery stores 5 minutes walk away abound with fresh produce at bargain prices by USA standards. Portuguese salaries are low (€800 average per month) as arethe food prices. I have a dorm-sized refrigerator so shop for vegertables, fruit, grilled chicken for $3 or Angus hamburger for about the same. Or, I can take literally to the street where I live or over one, to linger over offerings at tiny, single owner shops crammed with oddments of canned goods (hot dogs, for some reason, in cans and glass jars, abound), gorgeously decorated boxes of Christmas treats, wine like ruby silk less expensive than a Snickers bars, baskets of walnuts, cabbages and tangerines, packaged turkey slices ("peru") and smoked sausages. Along the streets are miniscule cafes of three tables, bakeries and their waist-broadening but delectably delicious "pasteis de Nata" (custard pie), Chinese-run "everything" stores and suddenly, the narrow streets open to the fountain facing massive Santa Cruz church, tourists and locals sporting "Yale" and "Visit Colorado" sweatshirts from Primark-in-the-mall (€7-€15) bustling about amidst fragrant billows from vendor of chrstnuts.
I gave my KIA "Soul" to my grand-daughter in North Carolina, purchased all my furniture for $1250 from IKEA via Porto and shall spend New Year's Eve with fellow expats in Figueria de Foz ("the Fig") overlooking the Atlantic on Portugal's Silver Coast. I can pretty well afford it as my Social Security and a modest Merrill Lynch account met with mind-boggling bureaucratic requirements and eventual approval through the desultory, application-burdened efforts of the Portuguese Embassy in Washington DC. Thank goodness I had no husband, partner, elderly relative(s), school age children, cats, dogs (one women: two Great Dane puppies, to Madeira) or horses. Many do, Facebook pages are filled with arrivees, 14 pieces of multi-wrapped and taped boxes, crates and luggage, caged pets and exhausted smiles. Me? Two suitcases and Apple gear in a backpack. Traveling light as a consultant for an energy firm for several years in Venezuela, Scotland and USA helped me to see what I really needed, not just what was "nice to have". And, of course, there is ... IKEA. Thank heaven! Assembly affordably hired!
Frankly -- and this had met with concurrence by other, well traveled expats -- I could not "do" Portugal if I had not already lived overseas in France and five years in UK. Several trips to Spain helped. Portugal looks so familiar, groceries, cars, malls, schools, roads, hospitals. Only: it's not. It's Portugal, with a spoken language as fast and lovely as the Mondego River in full spate. And try catching a river in full space. I speak French, tourist Spanish and I can pick out many similar looking words, but oh, no, the pronounciation is altogether different. I got my hair cut. "Oh, you know, corto!" Hilarity! "Corto" is a short cup of coffee, not a short cut of hair! And Portugal, lest the wannabee expat forgets, has been doing what it has been doing, trundling along post-Salazar, underdeveloped, poor educational offerings, no major assembly infrastructure to speak of, even its Amazon is run out of Spain and neatly labeled "Portugal -- sardines, Atlantic coastline and cheap, too!" . All of a sudden, the nation slams into the virtual 21st century; it's going to take a minute for them to catch up. Yes, the spotless malls are gorgeous, full of foreign retailers, Primark (China) and at least three American chains. Yes. McDonalds. And no, I have not. Yet. The overwhelmingly Catholic country still processes its saint statues born on the shoulders of the faithful down the cobblestone streets even if photographed by tourists with their Iphones.
My UBER drivers learn English by watching American television shows and movies: the subtitles are in Portuguese. And, many UBER drivers have a cousin in Boston, a brother in Chicago, a beloved friend in Seattle, and one day, they too, long for a visit to America. Or, they have studied in England but they hate the food, the English and the climate and come home to Portugal. My landlords are gay and married: one is Greek, the other from Mozambique and we communicate by What'sApp. My banker longs to ride a Harley on Route 66. Coimbra university graduates are celebrated by a single guitar chord struck at midnight as amidst tears and song, they enter adulthood; it is a truly remarkable sight. Indeed, the university students are seen everywhere in the ubiquitous long black cloaks, an apparent inspiration for J K Rowling when she lived in Porto, to the north, for a YA novel featuring a school called "Hogwart's".
More challenging to the considering expat, who has yet to set a toe into history, Fado, affordable wine and custard tarts, are residency permits backed up for months in a recent and arbitary change of designation and responsibility. The apartments in Lisbon, Porto and Braga are snatched up by foreigners waving currency, beleguering the low salaries of locals. Train and bus transport are well used, often unexpectedly on strike, but affordable. Senior Lisbon residents and students under 23 travel city transport for free. However, legal and real estate sheanigans abound and little the government does recoups the dismayed foreigners' funds.
Portugal asks the expat to pay attention as well as enjoy the wine, the music and the sardines.
The Portuguese I have met are a people of great kindness to this white-haired American grandmother (I am frequently kissed and embraced by virtual strangers). My sales clerk at Continente (similar to Publix) confided me to say I am Canadian as Portuguese are "afraid" of USA. Not Americans -- "the USA". Trump has done more damage than even I, a lifelong Democrat, feared. As in USA, there is not "one" Portugal, but many and not all of them awaken with unfettered joy to a country rising in expat popularity. Unsuprisingly, rising crime in major Brazilian cities has prompted their immigration to Portugal; my real estate agent was a native Brazilian -- named "Karen"! Every Brazilian I have met is gorgeous, fit, multi-lingual and in Portugal for higher education degrees before returning home Brazil. They are passionate about Brazil, horrified by their government's significant irregularities and hopeful if pragmatic about Brazil's future. Note Americans are only midway in immigrant popularity, overshadowed by the Brits. French, Spain and in Lisbon and condos purchases by the Chinese.
My charming studio with three, five foot windows and shutters, was built many years ago with no discernible insurlation as I discovered upon autumn the truth of what I had been warned to expect: "It is warmer outside than inside". I have one wall heater and only turn it on in early evening, off at night. I did awaken this morning to 13C inside and shall go for a long brisk walk this afternoon. Coimbra is an hour by train from the sea and even in winter, unlikely to dip below a shivery 32F -- outside! (Last summer, Coimbra had three heatwave cycles between 100-104F. Goes to show ya'!).
So if you are Portugal-bound next year, let me know! (I submitted an address change on this site.). Try not to take TAP: luggage loss and rarely on time. Lisbon is less than two hour train ride from Coimbra and under $20. Bring sunscreen and good walking shoes/Ecco sandals/Merrells: most Portuguese cities are uphill on cobblestones. Cheers!
|
-Florio-PROFILE-1800-Paris-American-5CD65DA5-90B1-1C17-D1BE1CBFEAF34998-LG.jpeg)
