Summer is in full swing and the workers are setting up for our big festival of the year, Festa dos Pescadores. There is a sense among locals that we’re not getting as many tourists and reports from AirBnB owners that their guests are using the kitchens more, which means they are not eating out as much. We shall see how big the turnout is this year.
My goal had been to be in the States for this week, away from the noise and crowds of Festa. I left it too late and airfares were prohibitive. I have become the “Keeper of the Keys” for neighbors who are high-tailing it out of town for three or four weeks, until the tourist numbers drop. Smart.
The festa is an honored tradition here. There is the blessing of the fleet and the fishermen. It is a time for the town to show off its hospitality. The kids have worked hard perfecting dance and choral routines. The kiosks are going up for local vendors.
Festa also brings with it the professional vendors: the pig roasters, waffle and churro makers, and my favorite, the wood-fired pizza makers.
The Downside
There’s also the guy I hate—and I am not alone in this—who has a game where you can win stuffed animals. He sets up almost exactly across the street from me and from about 6:00 pm to 2:00 am plays loud music which he interrupts approximately every twenty seconds to give a spiel about winning cheap toys. I wouldn’t mind the music if he would just let it play; it’s his constant carnival barking that makes me wish I were a ninja assassin.
Last year, while setting up, the bass was thumping so deeply that it literally affected my heart rhythm. I went downstairs and saw the restaurant owner below me standing and just glaring at the booth. I said to him, “I’m going to find his generator and dump a Coca-Cola in it.” For the first time in three years, I got a laugh out of him.
I walked over and behind the booth, looking for the generator. Just assessing things… The barker guy was in the back working on something. I went around to the front where a younger man was setting up. I asked him politely if he could turn the music down because the bass was affecting my heart. He IMMEDIATELY apologized and turned down the music. In case you were wondering if Portugal is a civilized country, I would say it is far more civil than I am. Time to check that attitude.
I went on down the street and stopped in at a local café for a beer. About fifteen minutes later, we saw a GNR car in front of the booth. Someone else had called the GNR about the noise. My request for him to turn down the music probably saved him some grief. Win/Win.
I have talked to several owners of local businesses and they all complain about this one vendor. Two new restaurants have gone in almost directly across from where he sets up. I have high hopes that we will present a united front and keep this guy in check. I also have the uncharitable hope that he has somehow lost his voice and won’t show up. It’s a dream. Update: He arrived overnight. With luck, he won’t crank up the sound system until Thursday.
Don’t Get Off My Lawn
As annoying as he is, I have it easier than the people down the other end of town. That’s where the soundstage is set up and the live bands and DJs start at 10:00 pm and roll until about 5:00 am. The Portuguese know how to party and it is only the fuddy-duddy expats who complain about the loud music. I hate to admit it, but we just can’t hang.
In spite of the noise (GOD I AM OLD!), I enjoy the excitement and energy of Festa. I love that the main street of town is shut off to traffic and people walk down the middle of the road day and night. I love seeing the kids getting excited. I love access to fried foods that aren’t easily available most of the year.
Mostly, I love that everybody in town is out and about and greeting each other. Yes, the visitors bring the numbers, but it’s the locals that make the festival so poignant. You see the restaurant manager out with his wife and kids. The pharmacist with her older parents. The kid from the grocery with his friends, dancing and trying to meet a girl. The kids who have participated in local athletics running races and winning awards.
Stepping Back in Time
It’s the slice of small-town life that you don’t see so much in the States anymore. Everything in the States is that much more sophisticated, slicker, and really, homogenized. The events here remind me of the holidays of my youth: the kids’ bicycle parades, marching with the high school band, local celebrities putting on a show.
Throughout the year, there are Christmas and various craft fairs, processions for countless saints’ days, local sports meets and tournaments. They are not nearly as fancy or big. The smaller events reflect the true flavor of Portugal. Festa de Pescadores is the biggest, most organized village festival of the year, but it still retains a bit of home-made charm. And for that, I can deal with a few days of noise.
