Rock in Rio!!!

Rock in Rio!!!

Rock in Rio is a huge music festival in Lisbon, the capital of Portugal, which takes place the last two weekends in May. I went with my host sister and friends to Rock in Rio on Friday. We took the train to Lisbon and a metro to the park where Rock in Rio was held. There was a long line of people pouring out of the metro station, walking up to the entrance. We couldn’t take any food or liquids into the park and everyone had their bags checked. We finally made it to the entrance. The park was huge! There was a giant main stage in the center of a huge field. Right above the stage there was a giant zip line. People were zip lining over the crowd all through out the night. I thought it was pretty epic especially when there was a huge finale to a song and a person would zip across the screaming crowd. There were tons of food vendors, carnival rides, and smaller stages around. When we arrived, Mariza, a famous fado singer was performing. Fado is a traditional type of Portuguese music. Ivete Sangalo, a popular Brazilian singer, was on the main stage next. During these performances we walked around and took in all the sights. One stand was doing face painting so we got stripes of paint that glowed under mini black lights. We got free sunglasses from the Pepsi stand and free straw hats when we went on a ride. We were standing in line for a ride, similar to the tower of terror, when I heard my name. I turned around and saw Lily, one of the exchange students from America who came to Portugal for 6 months too. Over 50,000 people come to Rock in Rio everyday and we were lucky to bump into each other. She was with her host sister and another exchange student from the US who is on the year exchange program.

We walked back to find a good spot to watch John Mayer. The field around the stage filled up quickly. We were right on top of a hill looking down to the stage from the right side. There were people sitting down in front of us so we had a perfect view. John Mayer started singing at 10:00 p.m. and sang until 11:15. Let me just say, he is an insane guitar player. He switched guitars for every song. After the performance, the stage crew wheeled a huge box filled with guitars on the stage (there must have been over 30). There was a 30-minute break before Shakira took the stage. Fireworks lit up the sky and music played over the speakers. We sat down during the break and people took our original spots. I pushed my way forward to get some pictures when Shakira started singing but the music was loud so it didn’t matter that we couldn’t see. Shakira was amazing live and her song “She Wolf” was fantastic. We didn’t see the end of her performance because we decided to go to the huge tent blasting techno music that people were dancing too. The strobe lights were flashing and it was packed, but lots of fun. We left the park after 2 am and took the metro back to an apartment in Lisbon to spend the night. I was still really full of energy from the concerts and I think I got about 3 hours of sleep. My host mom picked us up in the morning and we went back to Santarèm for a half hour, just enough time to shower and repack. We drove to Evora and saw some of my host family’s relatives. It was my host sister’s birthday and we went go carting and hung out by the relative’s pool.

Before 8 p.m., my host sister and I put our party dresses and heels on and left to go to her cousins 18^th birthday party. Her cousin rented a building in the countryside outside of Evora for her party. We had dinner and there was a DJ outside so everyone danced under the stars. Portuguese like to party very very late so by the time we left it was after 5 a.m. We stayed at a friend’s house in Evora. As we walked up to the house, the morning chorus of birds was singing and the sky was getting lighter. We slept until 12:30 and the friend’s mom made us a huge lunch with soup, salad, lasagna, and fruit before we left. When we finally got back to Santarèm later that afternoon, I fell right asleep, waking up only to watch Glee with my host sisters and then fell back to bed. A very busy weekend, but it was so much fun!

Since school is almost over, this week is very packed with tests and projects to present. This weekend I have my “Good-Bye” Program in Coimbra. There are about 80 exchange students in Portugal from all around the world so they divided the group in half for the good-bye program. There are 35 students going to Coimbra and I think the rest are going to Braga. Ari is also going to Coimbra and some of the students from Argentina who arrived to Portugal in January. The other students are from the yearlong program and are from countries like Germany, Mexico, Italy, Norway, China and Turkey. I haven’t seen the other Americans since February so I’ll miss seeing them next weekend, but it will be fun to meet other exchange students since I’m the only one in Santarèm. Even though our plane departs to London, then NYC on June 26, we have to meet in Lisbon on June 25 for a “debriefing”. The host families aren’t allowed to see us to our plane. I don’t know how many of us would actually leave if they did come so it’s probably for the best. I can’t believe I only have five weeks left!

No School

Last Thursday I did not have school because the Pope came to Portugal. Some people believe that all Portuguese are very Catholic and very religious, but it really depends on the family. My first family went to church almost every week; my second family never goes. When I went to Galeana a few weeks ago there were groups people walking along the highway. In each group, there were about 2 to 5 people. Some had walking sticks and bright neon construction vests. If they had anything else, it was a small backpack or fanny pack. My host sister explained that they were going on “pilgrimages” to Leiria. To show their devotion to God, they sleep on the floors at places like fire stations. When the Pope came to Portugal he went to Lisbon first and then to Leiria to give a mass. Lots of people from Santarèm went in groups and walked to see him speak.

I took advantage of the day off from school and had another foreign exchange student visit me. Ari is also from the US and is here for 6 months. The five other Americans and I have kept in contact with each other. We email each other a lot and have been planning to get together. She is in Evora and really wanted to see more of Portugal so she came to visit me in Santarèm. Since Portugal, is a small country you can take a bus pretty much anywhere. My host sister went with me and we showed Ari around the city. We went back to Portas de Sol, looked at the old churches, and explored all the little shops. I showed her my school (I think I was the only student who went near the school on a day it was closed). The sun was shining and it was a perfect day to be outside. Santarèm is known for two pastries, pampilhos and celestes, so we went to the best pasteleria in the city to get them. Pampilhos are made of a sweet dough about an inch wide and three inches long and filled with a sweet custard. Celestes are made of an egg custard mixture and have chopped almonds mixed in and are wrapped in a paper-thin dough. We went to an Italian restaurant for lunch (It’s not that we’re sick of Portuguese food, but good Italian pizza sounded delicious). Wandering on one of the narrow roads we found an amazing chocolate shop. Tucked off to the side, with a small door and tiny window display, we walked right passed the first time. Luckily we realized our mistake and turned around. The inside was filled with a wall of wine, a wall of jam and a glass counter filled with chocolates. The flavors were endless: butter cream and champagne, caramel, praline, strawberry, apricot, cherries dipped in chocolate with liquor, dark chocolate mouse and ten types of truffles including, cappuccino, almond, dark chocolate. We did limit ourselves to one chocolate apiece since we were still full from lunch. We found a little shop with Portuguese souvenirs and we both finally bought a Portuguese flag. Our feet were sore by the end of the day, but we had so much fun! I may take a bus to Evora later this week so she can show me around her city.

Futebol!

Portuguese love their soccer (or futebol) teams. When I first arrived everyone asked, “So what club are you?” and I had no idea what they were talking about. Everyone still asks what my club is, but now I can answer. My family is Sporting Clube de Portugal so that’s the club I cheer for. There are different levels of soccer teams. The team in Santarèm is in a lower level because they aren’t very good. The three best teams are Benfica, Sporting Clube de Portugal and Porto. Benfica and Sporting are based in Lisbon and Porto is from Porto in northern Portugal. Yesterday, Benfica won the Portuguese League Crown for the 32 time. Before the Benfica game started, they were predicted to have a 94% chance of winning. Before the game started cars were honking in the streets and it sounded like fireworks were going off. After it was official that Benfica won, Benfica fans rushed to their cars and paraded down the street. They were honking and waving Benfica flags out the windows. The honking continued until after 11 p.m. In school today, Benfica fans were running down the halls with red scarves. In class, one guy laid out a red Benfica banner on his desk. The Sporting fans silently sulked. Sporting and Benfica are like the Yankees and Red Socks rivalry. Everyone will unite in June during the World Cup to cheer on Portugal.

Forcados in Action!

Second Bullfight

Second Bullfight

I went to my second bullfight on Saturday, May 1. I was shocked to see that one of the cavaleiros (people who ride the horses and stab the bulls with the spears) was a woman. There are only two or three women in Portugal who are cavaleiros. Women can’t be forcados because when they catch the bulls, the bulls impact their chests. The arena where the bullfight was held was much smaller than Santarèm’s arena. I found out later that Santarèm has the largest bullfighting arena in the country. This bullfight took a lot longer than the last one I went to and it was much more intense. My sister kept saying how awful the bulls were. When they charged at the pink flags or when the forcados tried to catch them they would throw their heads up and down and up and down. Imagine trying to hang on while 580 kilograms (1,278 pounds) is charging and bucking. One bull took over 5 tries to catch. Lots of men were thrown throughout the bullfight. When they hit the ground, if they were unlucky enough to be thrown or if they fell, the men immediately rolled into the fetal position, covering their heads with their hands. A few times the bull charged the men on the ground and threw them in the air. No one went away in an ambulance but a lot of men limped away, their clothes splattered with the bull’s blood. After the bulls leave the arena there is a vet waiting. The veterinarian takes out the spears and tries to stop the bleeding because the bulls won’t be killed until the next day.

After the bullfight, we were lucky enough to be invited to the Forcado’s dinner party. After every bullfight the Santarèm Group of Forcados have a dinner. We arrived at 9 p.m. and it didn’t finish until after 3:30 a.m. The forcados are mostly between the ages of 18 and 27. They don’t get paid for being a forcado; they do it because they like it. Some guys only do it for a year; others do it for as long as they can. It was a good chance for me to practice my Portuguese because the guy I sat next to only spoke a little English. They have a tradition at the dinners that every person who hasn’t attended before has to give a speech. My speech was half in Portuguese and half English but the majority of people could understand. I talked about how brave they all were and how impressed I was of the bullfight. There were lots of speeches given by new guests and by the bullfighters themselves. It was a jubilant dinner. The forcados had different songs for different people and they would break out clapping and singing. This is the 95^th year of the Santarèm Group of Forcados, the oldest bullfighting group in Portugal. While talking with one of the guys, he explained they were a close group. When in the arena they all shared a common goal, catch the bull. Bullfighting is a sport in Portugal like baseball is in the US. It’s a huge part of their culture.

I slept in late on Sunday since we got back at 4 a.m. from the party. My host sisters and I decided to go to their beach house for the afternoon since it was only a 40-minute drive away. At the beach, the wind was furiously blowing and it was cold. A big change from the 85-degree weather we had during the week. Never less, my youngest sister ran around and jumped in the waves in her swimsuit. I managed to get my jeans soaked after an unexpected wave crashed down.

I only have 5 weeks of school left, which is shocking. The other students will have to take national tests in June. The tests count for 30 percent of their final grade and they won’t find out until the end of June or early July if they’ve passed. If they fail the class they have to retake the class the next year. They can’t apply to college until after they get their test scores back. The test scores and their final average determine what schools they can apply to. It’s very hard to be a doctor in Portugal. You have to have a 19 out of 20 average to go to medical school in Portugal. Since college is mostly free, they only want the best at the medical schools. Some kids go to Spain or France for medical school if they aren’t accepted in Portugal. People have asked me what I’m majoring in college. My reply, “I don’t know yet, I don’t have to decide for another two years. I’m in a liberal art’s college so I can take what ever classes I want.” That is very different than the Portuguese system where they have to basically decide what they want to do before high school. One boy in my class switched from a Science track to a Humanities track and had to retake tenth grade to get the Humanities classes. I definitely prefer the U.S. system.

Torros!! Espana!

Torros!! Espana!

Last weekend, I traveled back to Galeana with my host sister. Just three weeks had passed since I had visited and the countryside was bursting with color. The fields looked like oceans of purple, white and yellow. The black bulls stood out against the brilliant flowers. Their father was having a tenta. At a tenta, he picks which cows will be used for breeding the bulls for bullfighting. There is a small bull arena at the farm, where the mock bullfight was held. People pay lots of money to come and watch and have lunch. We woke up early and the cooks were already preparing lunch and setting the long tables. The Spanish bullfighters had arrived and they were standing outside. They didn’t wear the fancy bullfighting outfits and they didn’t get paid for coming. It was considered training for them. At 11 a.m. a bus full of older men in a bullfighting club pulled around the driveway and we were almost ready to start the show. We put a tablecloth in the bed of an old truck and put baskets of cheese, fresh bread, potato chips, coolers of wine and juice carefully in the back. It was already 80 degrees out and the sun beat down on the dust bumpy road on the way to the training arena. I held onto the clattering glasses as tightly as I could as we crossed the fields to the arena. We parked the truck in the shade and walked over to see the cows. My host sister’s father looked at 6 cows at the tenta. The cows were two and a half years old. They were let out into the arena one at a time. Her father sat in a little closed off section on the edge of the arena. He had two huge ancient looking books. These books had the background information for every cow: their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. The books also said how the other cows performed, the how the bulls were that they produced.

In the arena was a man on a horse with a long pole. The horse had blinds over its eyes so it couldn’t see and padded covering. The Spanish bullfighters were positioned behind the barricades with their pink flags. When the cows were released the animals charged out spitefully kicking the sand and charging at everything. The man on the horse would yell and the cow would charge at the horse (hence the need for the protective armor covering on the horse). The man on horseback poked the cow with the long pole and one of the Spanish bullfighters would come out with their flag. My host sister’s father watched each cow for 20-30 minutes. He wrote down notes like how they charged, what position they kept their head in, how fast they changed direction and how their stamina and endurance changed from the beginning to end. Based on this information, he would decide if that cow would become a mother or if it would become a hamburger. The cows that were rejected would be kept on the farm for about 4 more years and then sent to the butcher. The skilled Spanish bullfighters waved their flag and tired the cow out. No one was hurt and sometimes you forget just how dangerous the sport is. We learned the next day that one of the best bullfighters in the world, José Tomás Román Martín, had been gored at a bullfight in Mexico. The bull put a six-inch hole in the man’s leg and he needed 17 pints of blood! The bullfighters have to constantly be on their guard and expect the unexpected. The spectators sat in plastic chairs on a raised level, smoking cigars, peering down through their smoke. After 3 cows, there was a break and everyone came over to the truck to get food and drinks.

After the event was over, everyone came back to the house to have a typically Portuguese meal. There were different types of Portuguese sausage, cooked cabbage, carrots, and beans, pork and chickpeas. It was served buffet style. As always in Portugal, the red wine ran freely, an empty bottle always being replaced seconds later with a full bottle. There were five or more different desserts including two cakes made from cookies and cream, an almond cake, and an egg and sugar dish.

Later when we were driving the cooks home, I saw the largest solar power plant in Portugal. It is placed on a plain in Alentejo; a place in Portugal that has the most amount of sun throughout the year. The solar panels are always at 45 degrees, but they turn to follow the sun’s path.

On Sunday, my host sister and I decided to “walk to Spain”. I opened a gate to a bull field and we drove in (shutting it behind us of course). The bulls just looked at us, but they ran away from the truck. We bumped along a dirt road until we came to the rusty gate that separates Portugal from Spain. It wasn’t hard to find a place where two pieces fence were tied together with a thin wire. We untwisted the wire and stepped into Spain. Spain looks a lot like Portugal, the rolling green hills dotted with flowers. We explored for a bit then we heard the distant sound of bells and bleating goats. Not wanted to confront the goats; they can sometimes have tempers; we headed back to the border. Near the fence a bunch of small barking dogs suddenly appeared. At first, we though they were wild dogs and I was getting ready to do some newly learned kempo moves (Last week, I went with my friend to her kempo training class. Kempo is a type of martial arts like karate). We noticed a man and his mule under a nearby tree and realized he was the goat herder and the dogs were his. We said, “Hola” and he helped us to reopen the fence and we walked back into Portugal.