Saturday, February 28, 2009

Work, the Ambassador, Wine and of course, Basketball

This has been a fairly busy week.  While I have started teaching, it has been an abbreviated beginning.  Classes on Monday and Tuesday were cancelled for Carnival celebrations, and the US Ambassador was on the island until Thursday.  I met most of my students on Wednesday and simply had a chance to get to know them a little bit.  Class begins in earnest this week for me, but a Fulbright conference in Brussels will create another absence, or more accurately, delay.

I have an office; it is nice and I share it with Bernardo.  Along with many others at the University, he has been very gracious.  



The Ambassador's visit was educational and enlightening.  On Wednesday, Bernardo and I met him and his posse at Quinta Magnolia, the site of the American Culture Corner (Library) in Funchal.  We had a brief sit down with him and I learned that his high school age son plays club basketball in Lisbon.  I also learned that he is from North Carolina originally, so we had some regional points of interest to discuss.  Among his group were a number of very nice folks, including Edgar Potter, the American Consular agent on the Island.  He has lived here 32 years and he asked that we come to a cocktail party that night.



The gathering was at the top of this large rock, in the glassed area.  It is at the end of the long pier in the harbor and, as you would expect, it provides quite a view.  Walking there was rather interesting, and Farrar and I hesitated as we approached, fearing perhaps that we would be put to work on the docks if we got any closer.  Eventually a police officer told us we were in the right place and two elevator rides later we were up there, with the Consular agent, his staff, the Ambassador, his posse and the other 20 or so Americans in Madeira.

A couple of days later, we went by the Consular agent's office to "register" so they can include us in any events they might have.  Everyone there is helpful and friendly, and their office is on the marina, right above a Pizza Hut and McDonald's....of course.  We visited just before lunch and asked for a suggestion.  After we refused the options downstairs, they suggested a place across the street on the water.  They said it would be a good place for the kids, and all.



Despite the name, it was, in the end, a rather tame and scenic spot.  I guess I am learning that there aren't too many places that are not scenic here, well, except for my office, but you've seen that already.  It was cloudy that day, and we experienced our first rains in Madeira.







A meal at the Beer House can make you tired, or cansada, as I have recently learned.  But there is always one of these nearby, and always under a dollar.



After a relaxing coffee break, we stopped in a wine shop downtown to buy some Dry Sercial, upon the recommendation of our very good friend, Will Motley, proprietor of the Woodland Wine Merchant in Nashville.  The proprietor at this place was eager to have us try some samples and tell us all about the Madeiras.  



I learned that Sercial is a grape and all Sercial Madeiras are aged at least 10 years.  There are some Sercials that are 5 years old, but they have a percentage of another grape in them.  I think it was Tinta Negra.  At any rate, the name "Sercial" is soon going to be removed from all such "impure" bottles.  Some kind of wine law, I guess.  After this information, of course, we went for the real thing.



Oh yeah, I also found a Basketball game.  Jaime, who I'd met at the park a week or so ago, called and asked if I'd like to join him where he has started back playing, in his hometown of Canico, just east of Funchal.  Jaime is the guy next to me, and his wife, Rosa, is in one of my classes at University.  They are very nice and hospitable, like so many people we have met here.



While on the subject of basketball, I should mention that it occupied most of our Saturday.  Bishop finally had his first practice and he enjoyed it very much, despite the language barrier.  It was a fairly traditional practice with drills,



and a scrimmage at the end,



but best of all, teammates.



After practice we had lunch, and returned to the gym to watch the men play.  The home team, in red, won.  The women have a playoff game tomorrow, and you can rest assured we will be there. 



It's a good thing the whole family loves basketball...and dogs; we are becoming quite fond of this one, who lives a block away from the gym.



Monday, February 23, 2009

Monte

Today was a good day for an outing.  It was the warmest day since we have been here, so after a productive morning of school, we set out to visit the town of Monte, just north of Funchal.  There are some interesting travel options to take, and we chose a cable car (one-way) which afforded 15-20 minutes of pretty spectacular views of Funchal and its surroundings.  Naturally, we began on the ground, and began our slow ascent above some of the city's homes.





Pretty soon, we were up a good ways, 





but everyone felt safe and secure....hanging by a cable.



Once we arrived in Monte, we were happy to put our feet on the ground.  There were a few botanical gardens, which we will probably enjoy next time.  This time, we were hungry and found a little restaurant next to yet another beautiful church.  The restaurant was on the third floor, with a souvenir shop on the first floor and a bar on the second.  Farrar said it was her favorite meal we have had in Madeira, and it was quite good.  Something for everyone: roasted chicken, vegetable omelets, french fries, salad, rice and of course, bread and butter.



The church was on the small side, but typically lovely and provided an incredible view of Funchal.  



The painting on the ceiling of the church was particularly alluring as were the crystal chandeliers, confessional and altar.








Rather than riding back down on the cable, we chose to take the toboggans, 


which was an experience in and of itself.  While the drivers were not working, they were moving back and forth between the bars and a card game,



Two men alternately pull and ride behind (at rather high speeds) down the narrow streets of Monte.  The streets are not closed, so we (or I should say, they) negotiated the twisting narrow alleys while dodging the moving cars.  





When the excitement was over, we were still about a 30 minute walk from the city center, so the kids talked us into taking our first cab.  It was definitely worth it; our driver was very helpful and told us more about the island and different possible day trips of interest.  He was a native of Madeira but had spent 9 years in the UK working different jobs and learning English, which he spoke well.  

Due to this indulgence that spared us a 50 minute walk home, we felt refreshed enough to walk up the hill to the CAB Madeira gym, mostly so everyone would know the way, but also hoping we might get on the court.  When we arrived, the floor was unoccupied and they let us in, cut on the lights and rolled out some basketballs!  It was nice and familiar to be in a gym and to shoot on goals with nets.  We played some knockout and 2 on 2 and headed home, Farrar snapping shots of some cool homes along the way.




Friday, February 20, 2009

Creeping toward anything familiar

The idea of visiting somewhere new and exciting, as I have learned in the past two weeks, becomes all together different when you wind up living there.  Once eating out for every meal was no longer an option, many of the exciting places had been visited, the children were beginning to remember the thrills of irritating each other, all the clothes were dirty, and the apartment needed to be cleaned,  Alex and I realized that we were no longer on vacation.  We have been looking out and around at the most beautiful things, landscapes, and people,


 but a few days ago, it became necessary for me at least, to look down and in, closely and specifically at the details of how people live here in order to try and give it a whirl.

I had my first slightly disenchanted moment, I think, when I bought a pint of what I thought was vegetable broth to make risotto only to find that I had purchased bean soup.  Risotto made with bean soup was hardly a crowd pleaser.  I had to dig deep in a shallow pantry (luckily a shallow pantry is something that I do have experience with) and try again.  That moment happened to follow my realization that hanging clothes to dry, while producing an incredibly lovely aroma, leaves them stiff and not exactly what the sensory driven individuals (yes, Bishop and myself) are accustomed to.  About this time, I eyed the ironing board, and putting one domestic tip with another, realized that the heat of the iron indeed produces the element necessary to soften things up.  This bliss was thwarted temporarily by the thought of just how much ironing this meant.  The day continued like this, sign after sign that I was in over my head.  I think this was the same day that Alex and Bishop headed toward heaven to find a court and Zelle approached me with a detailed school schedule for the next few days.  Everyone was in step except for me...time to get it together to say the least.

So, I went to work noticing the small things like the ways that women hang clothes on the drying rack, the way people linger at meals, eat slowly, maneuver around the city, choose fruit at the market, and even organize the trash, excuse me, rubbish.  I realized I had to find a favorite place to go and go there a lot until it began to feel familiar.  

I've gotten to work on much of this.  Some of it has begun to feel comfortable.  The rest will hopefully come in time.  I have found a great rock that has, at all times, a pair of gulls perched on its top,

  

a place to have coffee or "uma bica" anytime of day with friendly owners who humor my language barrier and let me try anyway,  



a system for school 



and laundry,




and dishes, 



a dog that might just begin recognizing me as I pass, 



a Friday flower delivery, 



a grocery store, 



a dance party,



and last but not least, I have found my familiar place on the bench where I am most comfortable, taking pictures and cheering for my team as they take on another.  




It is far from clockwork and the cooking still has miles to go, 



but I can count on a few things which is all I suppose any of us ever really need.  
Oh, and in case you ever need to know, melba toast tastes the same everywhere, and butter cookies are always delicious.



Thursday, February 19, 2009

Basketball

I mentioned a few days ago that we bought a basketball. That is the beginning.  Naturally, on the way home after the purchase, Bishop wanted to stop by the goal at the park.  Given that we had been walking all day and it was nearly 7:30, Farrar and Zelle opted to take the road home, while Bishop and I turned downhill and snaked our way to the hoop.



The area is well lit and the park is usually fairly active, though there isn't much action on the court.  In the park adjacent, there are anywhere from 30 to 50 people kicking 10-20 soccer balls around.  Usually we have the goal to ourselves.  On this first night, a young girl (about 6 0r 7) stood at the edge of the court, interested in what Bishop was doing.  After a few minutes, and her father's encouragement, she eased up to the goal.  Bishop gave her the ball and she began throwing it in the general direction of the hoop.  After several attempts, she was somewhat exhausted.  I tried to help.  I demonstrated: elbows in, push under the ball, begin with the ball under your chin.  I was thinking of the best coaches I know: Sartor, Sims and Wilson.  Eventually she resorted to the granny shot and she did manage to hit the rim a couple of times, Bishop fetching the rebounds.

Meanwhile I struck up a tentative conversation with her father.  He said he spoke "only a little English," but we proceeded to talk for half an hour.  His English was excellent.  I told him what we were doing in Madeira and for how long.  He asked what classes I was teaching at University, and as it turns out, he will be a student in one of them.  His name is Jaime and his family owns a Residencial next to the market in downtown Funchal.  On one of our subsequent walks, we happened in on him and he took a break to walk us to the Language School, where we will begin Portuguese lessons next week.  

I asked him about playing basketball on the island, and he said he hasn't played in years (he is 31) but he knows where the gym is.  He pointed up and said with a smile that he felt certain that Bishop could find a team to play on.  "I will see you play basketball here,"  he told Bishop.  "One day, we are all going to play together."  

By now, Bishop and Sara (his daughter) were chasing around and laughing, Bishop mostly dribbling a kind of keep away from her.  She walked over to her father and asked him some things in Portuguese; he replied and then she walked over to Bishop and said "Let's know each other."  Her father turned to me and said that she now wants to learn English so she can play with Bishop again.  It was getting late and as we parted, Jaime asked if we wanted a lift, which we were excited to accept.

Since then, we have been to the basketball court a number of times and had a few family games.  Very often some older pedestrians will stop and watch.  I don't think they've ever seen anyone use the court so purposefully.





Yesterday, Bishop and I walked straight up, toward heaven, to find the CAB Madeira gym.  The road was narrow and at the top it ended in a field.  I was miffed.  Jaime had said to turn left and you will see it.  So, we turned left and walked through the field, which opened onto another street, and there it was:



We went inside and got Bishop signed up.  Well, it was more of a verbal agreement.  Leaving, I took a picture of the CAB Madeira van and also of the view from the precipice, containing the field we'd crossed to get there.





Bishop has his first practice next Thursday at 6:30.  For now, Zelle is content to dominate the family games of 2 on 2.  Yes, Farrar is lacing them up on the island!  I'm still looking for the old man's league.  We'll keep you posted.  



G-unit on three; 1-2-3- G-UNIT!  Griffin Basketball for life.