My Big Fat Portuguese Family

There are two Grandmothers, two Grandfathers, five aunties, three uncles, thirteen cousins, five-second cousins, one mother and one father. A family not too big, but they are just my family in Cape Town. We are all Portuguese.
We speak, think, eat, drink, party, and pray we even dream Portuguese, believe it or not even our dogs understand Portuguese.

Some people only see their families at special occasions like birthdays, Christmas, New Years, weddings or funerals. Some people don’t really know their families. I see my family every Sunday. We all congregate at my aunt’s house, amazingly I have adapted to phenomena that 150 people could fit into a 50 square feet of yard. At these cookouts, all you hear are the accents of Portuguese people all speaking at the same time and so loud you would think they all swallowed an amplifier. Discussing work, family, business, the harbour, the neighbours and the goings on in Madeira, our homeland. It’s never silent, even when we argue it’s loud.

Usually the men in my family cook an enormous lunch and it’s always something Portuguese. From Clado Verde (Kale Soup), Canja (chicken Soup), Pregos, Espetada, to Bolo de Mel (Honey cake) the men seriously know how to cook Portuguese style and it’s always delectable. And to go with the meal there is always home made bread, which throughout my childhood I thought everyone made their own bread but later discovered its just a Portuguese thing.

In true Portuguese honour what is eating without drinking? Caipirinhas, Sangria, and Poncha, these are our famous beverages, which are always made too strong, never too weak. And you can’t leave out the potent wine, which my uncle makes himself from his backyard. When I was younger, I remember thinking it was normal to squash grapes in huge barrels on a Sunday at my relative’s house. At least I got to drink wine before I was eighteen.

Above the noise of everyone speaking and pots and pans you will always hear the traditional sounds of Portugal coming from the CD player. The famous folk music Fado playing and some aunty will always be singing along. Sometimes we even dance when a truly traditional song plays. Once you have attended a Portuguese wedding you will know all the steps to the dances. I proudly display these dances when socialising with friends and without a doubt myself or my other Portuguese friend will jump up and start singing and dancing to some Portuguese song they have playing in their head. This is after copious amounts of wine.



I’m sure that in every Portuguese family, someone has an antique Portuguese Bible passed down from generation to generation, and nine out of ten times there will always be a picture of some saint as you walk in the front door. There are probably also more religious statues, pictures, crucifixes or shrines in the bedroom, lounge, the study and even in the car. Much more religious replica than in your average house. In my family it’s exactly like that. Crucifixes, pictures, statues, and candles are all on display in nearly every room. And if you cant see the religious item there will always be ten year old palm tree leaves folded into crosses in drawers, in books as book marks or stuck inside cupboards. There are so many collected over the years from each Palm Sunday that you feel bad throwing them away.

The biggest battle with my family is that no one understands what “no thank you” means. My uncles serve a huge meal, and once you are done, you take your plate back to the kitchen, and without argument you will be given a full plate again. “er, av more shpargett! Or “ke tomaches? “ “No thank you” is definitely not in their vocabulary. Especially when it comes to food.
The best is my family believe that every ailment, illness, memory loss and accident is attributed to the fact that you didn’t eat something.

The cool thing is that my Portuguese family and most other Portuguese families surnames all end in a vowel. Most families, including mine have uncles named Jose, Manuel, Fernando or Tony.

Everyone and everything in my family is Portuguese. Even our pet’s names are Portuguese. We watch Portuguese TV; listen to Portuguese radio on the net, even e-mail our Portuguese relatives across the world. It might seem over-whelming and crowded and possibly claustrophobic but in times of need, they are always there. Even if Portugal is playing a serious game of soccer against Brazil and crisis hits, my family, big and loud they are always there for each other. And when needed they will always pitch up in true Portuguese style, with everyone else tagging along.

Duanes Syndrome

Who is Duane? Do I know a Duane? The question you should be asking is what is Duanes?

Duanes Syndrome is a condition which can only be diagnosed after birth and after about 3 years. Within six weeks of being in womb, the sixth cranial nerve which deals with eye movement doesn’t develop properly. Causing irregular or absent abilities to move the eye in certain direction. Type 1, means you cannot move your eye in towards your nose. Type 2 means you cannot move your eye out towards your ear and the third type means you cannot move your eye either way. It sort of just moves slightly both sides but never to the maximum angle that the eye can move.

Being a cranial (brain) condition, nothing can be done to fix Duanes. You can only use technology and tools to make life easier. Approximately only 0.1% of the population has Duanes Syndrome and only 10% of all cases are hereditary.

I have Duanes. At birth I was misdiagnosed as a childhood squint. Which I grew out of.. I also have Amblyopia, a lazy eye is the common name. Having a lazy eye never really bothered me. I always knew my vision wasn’t normal but I always related it to my lazy eye. Now only at 20 I have been diagnosed with Duanes Syndrome Type2.

The disabilities if you would call it that, which I have due to my Duanes (being in my left eye), would be that I cannot see under my left arm to shave it. When putting on make up or tweezing my eye brows I cannot see properly if I close my non-Duanes and strong eye. When I attempt to drive, the left side of the road is a complete blur and turning my head to check a blind spot is impossible for me to do it safely while driving. Because by the time I have turned my entire body around to see if there are any cars behind me, I will have swerved all over the road and probably smashed into a few cars.

If I am tired my lazy eye really looks lazy. If I turn my head sideways and relax my lazy Duanes eye falls in towards my nose. It looks really weird if you see it do that.

I went onto Facebook and found a group of people from all over the world of all ages who also have Duanes or their children have Duanes. It was a great relief to meet other adults who also have Duanes. They each share their stories and give advice on how to cope with Duanes and the simple things you can do to make life a little easier. One woman’s advice for driving was to have extended mirrors so that she wouldn’t have to do the 180 degree turn just to look behind her to change lanes.

I will be seeing an ophthalmologist soon and that will be my judgement day. Bring on the lenses, the torches and the examination board with letters EXDRT! I’m ready to tackle my poor vision once and for all.

Once again, the devil finds work for idle hands, and my hands are not idle..
Cheers for now!

C
xx

About me

I’m usually a very open person. But there is something about the internet that gives me some anxiety when it comes to revealing who I am. It’s not like it’s a secret. I think that from the beginning of the existence of the internet, our parents and the rest of the world have put the fear of god in us, making us think that everyone on the internet is a perverted child abductor or molester. I don’t doubt that there are those perverted sick creatures lurking on the internet, but I think they are a minority. And I doubt they will spend their time reading blogs. Surely they would spend their time searching for what they want. Anyway now that I have semi convinced myself that no perverted people will read my blog or try find me here goes…

I’m in my twenties, almost 21. I live in Cape Town South Africa. I still live at home with my folks and we are very traditional. We are Portuguese. I’ll tell you more about our culture another time.

I’ve always had the dream to be a journalist or a writer. I also wouldn’t mind being a teacher or an actress. But for now I’m following one dream at a time. It would be quite cool if I were an actress/teacher/journalist. I could teach others to act, I could act and when I did a Brittany or an Amy I could do my own PR and write myself a great story to get me out of the lime light. (Make note, great idea)

So I’ve done the whole studying thing and have interned at various Magazines and a newspaper. I pretty much know what to do when I’m put into a magazine environment. I take to it like a fish to water. (Bubble, bubble) At the moment there are no jobs available for journalists. So I have decided to take some time out and start a blog. I will admit this is the first time I’m blogging. I lie in bed at night and think about what to write about the next day. When I watch TV or read a book. I try pick up on things that interest me so I can write about it. Problem is I forget about it. I really don’t want to walk around with a notepad attached to my hip.

I’m not too tall. I’m not too short either. But compared to most girls I would be in the “short” category. My height doesn’t really affect me. I’m quite alright with it. I like wearing heels, there is something about wearing heels that makes me feel so powerful and somewhat in charge. (Could just be short woman syndrome)

I am a dog person. Personally I think cats are a waste of time. Who would want a pet that has no expression, makes no sound and ignores you all the time? Dogs bark, they yelp, the cry. They jump, their tails wag and they generally express how they feel.

I like to wear black. I’m not Goth or anything. I just like to wear black. I also enjoy wearing nail varnish. Any colour is fine.
I am the kind of girl to wear makeup. Depending on my mood and where I am going, my makeup can go from dark Goth, matching purples or a natural earth colour. And yes I even have glamour gold and glitzy pinks. (I probably sound like a drag queen)

I enjoy the fruits from the gods, in a big glass. Wine if you haven’t guessed. I enjoy wine, probably a bit too much but I certainly get my money’s worth when I buy a bottle. (Now I sound like a drunk)

As I am writing this I’m beginning to think perhaps I’ve said too much. And once again my anxiety paranoia has come back. I can already see perverts and child abductors scanning the streets of Cape Town for a short Portuguese looking girl, with drag queen makeup on walking four dogs and drinking from a bottle of wine as she stumbles down the road to her green and red painted Portuguese house.
I better end this "about me" entry before I have to be admitted.

The devil finds work for Idle Hands and I will not be a victim!

Cheers for Now!

C
xxx

Method to my madness

So here I am. Almost 21. 2 years worth of studying under my belt, 4 years of job shadowing and internships and a lifetime of dreams.

Applying for a job is easy. You send your CV along with some sample articles which you wrote way back in college, you click send and wait that painful long wait until someone comes back and says “I’m sorry the position has been filled, we appreciate your efforts and will keep your CV on record for future job openings”
As you can see I’ve received this message way too many times.

Now thanks to the economy and the over spending of the greedy assholes in the world. The only media Mecca in my little town of Cape Town has retrenched 50 percent of their staff, leaving me unemployed and my journalistic abilities dormant in the back of my mind.
Which is why I have chosen to regurgitate it all onto this blog. I don’t care if no one reads it. It would be great if someone would. Maybe there is a society of journalists out there who feel the exact same. Maybe we could all come together and start our own publication. And make our own money.
But for now I’ll settle with this blog.

I will try to share all my thoughts without coming across as an angry, hormonal bitch. If I do, then just accept that I was probably pissed off at the time.
I must warn you though, my thoughts are very random and sometimes they don’t even make sense to me. But just bear with me and accept it.

That’s enough babbling for today. Have a nice day and remember, the devil finds work for idle hands.

Cheers for now!

C