Porto, Portugal and a street party to remember

Sometimes when traveling you stumble upon the strangest of events, not knowing that you are arriving to a town at its most important festival. By chance, this happened on a camping trip through Portugal. It was mid-June as we arrived to Porto (Oporto) a town on the Northern portion of Portugal on the Duero River which runs from the Atlantic to interior Spain. Known for Port wine, the town’s riverside is peppered with port sailing boats and historic Port makers.

Taking in the town and a few port tastings while there, we had no idea what we had in store on the evening of June 23^rd. Apparently, the Festa de Sao Joao or the Feast of St. John’s Eve is held every June 23^rd until the morning of the 24^th. It is the night that the entire population of Porto goes to the city center to honor John the Baptist.

Staying walking distance outside of the town, we left our camp to discover the “festa”. The cobblestoned streets were jammed with young and old. The smells of street vendors with grilled sardines and sweet fried dough were very inviting. Everyone a little on the tipsy side combined with the energy of the masses and music, made this street party awesome. However, I failed to mention the unusual tradition that is associated with this festival…..to hit each other over the head with a plastic hammer that squeaks. Click here to see a video of Sao Joao...

At first this tradition was fun, we bought our hammers from one of the many hammer sellers and began to feel a part of Portuguese culture with others hitting us on the head and us in return. After hours of the squeaking and of course just the physical beating upon our heads, the tradition wore thin. We were ready to walk back to the campsite tired, beaten (literally), and well now experienced in the Festa de Sao Joao.

Do you have any experiences with festival traditions like this? Please share.

Arranged marriage at three and a half!!

I hope the title was enough to grab your attention. Although common in past times and still very prominent in many cultures, you wouldn’t expect a 30-something American woman to write of a true life experience of an arranged marriage.

In the early 80’s, there were various programs to help the refugees of Laos that were being held in camps. The Laotian refugees were able through government assisted programs to immigrate to the United States if sponsored by an American individual or family. Socially conscious and with the desire to help, both my parents decided to sponsor a Hmong family to live in our family’s farmhouse.

The family arrived, Chang and his wife Bua, Chang’s mother and father, Lee and Chu-Lu, and Pao, Chang’s brother. As the only English speaker, Chang was our gateway to communication and thus the point of most of reference in this post. As in most situations were communication is difficult, most of the interaction revolves around actions and in particular eating or cooking. Very proud of their cuisine, it was not nearly a day before the Hmong wanted to go to the grocery store, where pointing was the indication that we needed to buy a certain ingredient.

Laotian cuisine is filled with hot peppers and as a memorable moment around the table, my father stills tells the story that in order to show his “manhood” Chu-Lu took a whole pepper in one bite; whereas, my father took the challenge but tiny bite by tiny bite, stopping only to wipe his forehead of the perspiration.

After a short six weeks of adjustment to the new settings, culture, climate, foods, and the like, the family decided to move into town. We assisted finding a rental apartment and the furnishings. For them, it was very spacious; I believe only a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom second story apartment in central Galesville, population around 1200 people.

To thank our family for our generosity and assistance in their journey, Chu-Lu offered to my parents, “mother and father sky” a very interesting gift. As Chang translated, “It would be a great honor for our two families to be united. I would like to offer Pao to be Heidi’s husband.” Now, my father although honored thought, "What could a fourteen year old Laotian see in a three and a half year old Heidi?"

Thankfully, my father declined the offer. I have since been able to choose my own husband. However, Chang’s family was not content without making another gesture. Shortly there after, Pao married and had a daughter. She was named Heidi Hung.

The good, the bad, and the ugly Part 3

As the third and final installment in the good, the bad, and the ugly series, I wanted to mention a story from a trip to Costa Rica. I write this in route from a cold, February New York City business trip where I reminisced about this specific trip with a good friend and travel companion.

In my typical fashion, the trip was planned to be low cost, but high adventure. We made our way out of San Jose and to the volcanoes for hiking and then over to the other side of Costa Rica famous for surfing, Montezuma. Although that name implies to me something entirely Mexican AND a common unpleasant traveler’s experience (Montezuma’s revenge), Montezuma, Costa Rica in neither Mexican nor unpleasant. Montezuma is a beautiful beach area with a spectacular national park nearby.

Having found a small shared room with two beds within walking distance from the beach, we were as happy as could be...days at the beach, a brief walk to freshen up, and nights drinking beer with the locals at the beach side bar; however, that is except for one minor detail...mosquitoes.

From previous posts, you now know where this may be leading as I am a bug magnet. The area was tropical, humid and surrounded by rain forests filled with howler monkeys, sloths, and beautiful birds, making a great environment for mosquitoes.
Having mosquito netting on the beds for covering, screened in windows, and mosquito repellent, the mosquitoes still got us. The heat, humidity, and buzzing mosquitoes led to sleepless nights of cooling off with damp towels and swatting the mosquito invaders.

Not to my surprise, my body was the target of a siege. I awoke with over a hundred of bites all inflamed, projecting heat, and well itching like hell. Indeed, I was tolerant, but I certainly didn’t feel that great. Having that many bites would cause anyone to feel like they had a fever and I definitely did have one...could it have been malaria (??).....possibly, but as you know I survived to write about it.

So here are Ms. Traveling Pants’ the good, the bad, and the ugly tips about going to the tropics:
1) Be careful with citrus juices in the sun
2) Be curious about plants has it dangers
3) Be prepared with mosquito netting, repellent, and malaria kit