More frivolity from Faial
Another e-mail to the parents from Faial:
Yesterday we drove around the island to Victor's dad's village, called Espalafatos. Loosely translated, it means "Spill the Suits" and the legend of the name's origin varies.
The village is beautiful, though it was destroyed inan earthquake. There is a little valley close to theocean, where Victor's grandmother was buried. The beautiful church was destroyed in the earthquake as well, and it's nothing but a ruin, which is quite a fascinating site. The insides are all overgrown with bushes and bamboo and flowers. It's just a shell of a church, with a beautiful tower. I took many pictures. There is so much stuff in there. We took a wooden spool from one of the stairs to make two candleholders (it was just lying there), and I say we're going to hell, but Victor says we're ok. We found his grandmother's grave and took pictures so we can remember where it is. They tend to bury over bodies every 7 years, unless the families pay a lot of money for a nice tomb. Weird thing.
Then we went to Sonia's house, where all the tias (including Maria) were up since 4 in the morning baking bread for the wedding. Sonia's parents have abuilt in wood-burning oven. Long story short, they make the dough, let it rise for a couple hours, heat the oven with burning branches until it gets to a certain temperature, sweep out the embers with brooms made of sticks and dried leafy branches, then put the bread in the oven to bake. They made 27 big loaves inall. I drank homemade wine with them and some great madeira wine (bought in Madeira) and had Portuguese cheese and bread.
Everywhere we go, Victor sees someone he knows. On an island of 50,000 people, it's pretty amazing and funny. We just keep running into cousins and uncles and friends of the family. I went out by myself this afternoon and ran into two people I knew.
While Victor drives like a grandma back home, behind the wheel of our teeny tiny Peugot he drives like a speed demon. We've had some interesting moments on the road, and suffice it to say my knuckles may be permanently white by the time I return. Driving in Lisbon and the outskirts should be interesting.
We have a bunch of chickens and roosters outside our apartment, with one particular rooster we've named Billy who crows at 5 a.m. It's not annoying, but funny, as Billy has some crowing issues. Clearly he is not the brightest rooster in the henhouse. He crows in two different octaves, the highest of which sounds like he's been out all night smoking and swilling whiskey.
We are off to help set up the hall this afternoon, and then the whole family (100+ people) are meeting up tonight in the Faja (a village overlooking the ocean) for a big pre-wedding party. Should be out late. Then the wedding tomorrow is an all-day affair. The tradition is you don't let the bride and groom be alone until about 5 the next morning. The whole family plays tricks on them all night.
Yesterday we drove around the island to Victor's dad's village, called Espalafatos. Loosely translated, it means "Spill the Suits" and the legend of the name's origin varies.
The village is beautiful, though it was destroyed inan earthquake. There is a little valley close to theocean, where Victor's grandmother was buried. The beautiful church was destroyed in the earthquake as well, and it's nothing but a ruin, which is quite a fascinating site. The insides are all overgrown with bushes and bamboo and flowers. It's just a shell of a church, with a beautiful tower. I took many pictures. There is so much stuff in there. We took a wooden spool from one of the stairs to make two candleholders (it was just lying there), and I say we're going to hell, but Victor says we're ok. We found his grandmother's grave and took pictures so we can remember where it is. They tend to bury over bodies every 7 years, unless the families pay a lot of money for a nice tomb. Weird thing.
Then we went to Sonia's house, where all the tias (including Maria) were up since 4 in the morning baking bread for the wedding. Sonia's parents have abuilt in wood-burning oven. Long story short, they make the dough, let it rise for a couple hours, heat the oven with burning branches until it gets to a certain temperature, sweep out the embers with brooms made of sticks and dried leafy branches, then put the bread in the oven to bake. They made 27 big loaves inall. I drank homemade wine with them and some great madeira wine (bought in Madeira) and had Portuguese cheese and bread.
Everywhere we go, Victor sees someone he knows. On an island of 50,000 people, it's pretty amazing and funny. We just keep running into cousins and uncles and friends of the family. I went out by myself this afternoon and ran into two people I knew.
While Victor drives like a grandma back home, behind the wheel of our teeny tiny Peugot he drives like a speed demon. We've had some interesting moments on the road, and suffice it to say my knuckles may be permanently white by the time I return. Driving in Lisbon and the outskirts should be interesting.
We have a bunch of chickens and roosters outside our apartment, with one particular rooster we've named Billy who crows at 5 a.m. It's not annoying, but funny, as Billy has some crowing issues. Clearly he is not the brightest rooster in the henhouse. He crows in two different octaves, the highest of which sounds like he's been out all night smoking and swilling whiskey.
We are off to help set up the hall this afternoon, and then the whole family (100+ people) are meeting up tonight in the Faja (a village overlooking the ocean) for a big pre-wedding party. Should be out late. Then the wedding tomorrow is an all-day affair. The tradition is you don't let the bride and groom be alone until about 5 the next morning. The whole family plays tricks on them all night.
posted by Michelle S. at 11:25 AM
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