(Above is a video made in the dark, so it is just the THEME TUNE of this Blog Entry. Just listen to it while you read... it is a famous song, I think from Argentina, that is being sung by Javi and Maria).
Well well well.
Saturday Night we had a big get together in a big airy flat in Alfama, the most adorable district of Lisbon. The house was full with 20 people, all blabbering away. Jesus was the cook and managed to coat all the meat (for the barbeque) with sugar instead of salt. He also had in stock a special liquor he creates by heating rum with sugar and coffee and water and leaving it for a week. This was very enjoyable. I met Humi, a gentle Japanese girl staying also until Janurary. I met Miguel too, a large, warrior-like Spaniard from the Basque Country who was very funny and told me all about the Basque situation.
Marco gave me a whole bag full of arty things that his friend left him behind. It was like christmas.
Sunday ---
We set off to "Alcacar do Sal", to a festival that has been postered and flyered and advertised around Lisbon for weeks. A festival promoting social awareness, that is free, that has a big line-up... and we arrive in this little Alentejoan town. It contains three things.
1. Mosquitos.
2. Perverts.
3. Dust.
The people of the town seemed unflustered by the idea of a huge festival taking place and several bars said that they had "run out of bread" and had no food to sell. So we sat around (Me, Maria, Lily, Katarina, Javi, Jesus, Cesar, Humi) and ate burnt sandwiches and beers. Erecting a tent in the "camping area" (actually just a hot dusty patch) was no laughing matter and by the time the music started we were already exhausted.
The music was some kind of traditional spanish music, but the dancers did not keep in time and kept frowning at each other, and the presenter kept apologising for things. The plastic chairs were filled solely with 80+s. After chilling on the grass with a guitar, the music improved until reaching its Electro Peak which I thoroughly enjoyed. It was all so dusty. I would sit and play the drum a lot in the middle of the dancing. After the party we sat by our cars with the guitar and a drum. Sleep was hot and interupted by mozzies. By 11am we were out of this hell hole and on an odd beach where none of the buildings were finished and the shops still had plastic coverings on all the tills. They had no food in them either. We were starving and reached a tiny town with a proper Portuguese Bar (see the next entry, A Proper Portuguese Bar) and an intense waiter, and gorged on Bife, Peixe, etc.
It was an odd weekend for sure, but I have not laughed so much in a long time...all the odd people dancing there, Javi's reactions to the whole situation, the jokes cracked and the converstaions had.
I read the paper, practised poi... this kind of thing.
Tomorrow I begin work at Bacalheiros, helping them to paint the walls. This is a communinty centre type place with lots of art and left wing films and music. This is the link, in portuguese I am afraid. http://bacalhoeiro.blog.com/
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