“Do I have a single identity – based on nationality, ethnicity, religion, class, gender or geography? Or am I essentially a mixture of multiple belongings, cultural allegiances and diverse inheritances, backgrounds and trajectories?”
– Elif Shafak

In her book How to Stay Sane in an Age of Division, Elif Shafak urges the reader to ask the question, Who am I? How we answer this question and define our identity, in many ways, determines how we will engage with life and the bigger world we live in. And unlike the black and white divisions that often permeate opinion, our identities are more fluid, or should at least contain some measure of fluidity throughout our lives, to allow for knowledge and awareness to impact upon and change with the circumstances of our lives.

In many ways I live on an island of relative calm here on the quinta, fending off news that doesn’t immediately or directly impact my life, but as an immigrant in Portugal, I am acutely aware of the various challenges the country faces, as well as its own version of division politics and racism.  

Although the recent riots and demonstrations in Lisbon and surrounding area did not directly impact on my daily life, it does highlight societal and political issues in the country at large.

Chega (meaning Enough), Portugal’s right-wing political party, likes to feed into a fear of immigration and immigrants, as well as using the housing crisis in especially Lisbon and Porto, to gain support.

Portugal has been the “it” country for a while now, enticing and encouraging foreign buyers (especially the richer segments of society) to invest in the country, but many locals view it as a disaster, seeing an increase in property prices that has more than doubled in 2023 compared to 2015 according to Pordata, and as such, making it impossible for many Portuguese to own property or even rent in areas close to where they work.

Out of the 10 million people living in Portugal, 2.1 million are classed as poor. According to a recent article, 40% of the population cannot replace furniture, or afford even a weeklong holiday, 30.5% cannot meet any unexpected expense without taking out a loan, while one in every five people live in accommodation that is not adequately heated in winter.

Even if I don’t always know what impact this knowledge will have on my identity, I know that who I am and the way I view my place in the world will inevitably be influenced by it. Luckily for me, I often don’t have time to overthink broader issues, as there is always something more mundane and physical that need my attention.

In the wake of Michael’s last visit at the end of September there was some cleaning up to do, while I also repacked a temporary firepit with the stones I kept from the previous one, and although I haven’t used it yet, the temperature since we’ve had our first snow on the Serra de Estrela on the 26^th, certainly makes me think of lighting a fire one of these evenings. The colder weather brings clearer skies and brighter stars – something I delight in.

Amongst the many mundane tasks there were three pallets of wood that have been stuck in the same place for the last couple of years that I couldn’t ignore any longer, but had to move to make way for the final bit of retaining wall. The best pieces I moved into the workshop onto two pallets to stay dry for use in my firepit during the winter months, while the rest I dumped onto our general wood pile.

Another task was to remove an enormous pile of offcuts and rubbish left by the people who cladded the workshop. They, unlike the general tendency of most builders, worked very neatly and left everything in a single pile, but it was under an olive tree, which meant it had to be dealt with before the harvest. A good thing I made use of lovely weather at the beginning of the month for that task, because, as it turned out, we harvested our olives on the 10^th.

It was the earliest we’ve ever harvested, and I am delighted with the end result, which is a lovely peppery hit at the back of the throat – a taste both Michael and I prefer to the more buttery flavour we’ve had in recent years. It was also our first good yield in a while, especially since we’ve lost quite a bit of olives when we had hail just when the fruit was busy forming. From the 18 kg of clean olives, we got just over 18 litres of oil.

October is also the month in which the cats need to get their yearly vaccinations, which hold a fair amount of stress for all of us. Midnight gets car sick, as the 45-minute drive has many curves, and Lily simply does not stop moaning.

This year I also had to take the car to get a new battery and tyres fitted before its first technical inspection. Despite being nervous, as I’ve never had to do one before (in South Africa we don’t have them, and in the UAE Michael took the car), and cramming my brain with some car related Portuguese vocabulary, it turned out to be one of those rare, smooth and delightful experiences, when the guy who did the tests not only spoke English, but patiently explained every step to me before he asked me to perform various tasks.

A Moment of Joy:
Receiving our very first batch of honey made by the industrious little bees a friend keeps on the quinta was definitely a highlight. I spent a delightful time decanting the 5.65 kg yield into bottles getting sticky all over. Since then, I’ve been having it over my yoghurt and muesli in the morning, used it in the Hawthorne ketchup I make this time of the year, and even made a delectable honey ice-cream.

Notes:
# The cladders have finally returned to the quinta yesterday, and is currently working on installing the doors of the workshop, so we should soon have a building that is wind and water tight. I will eventually write a blog post focusing solely on the whole ‘building an agricultural building in Portugal’ saga.
# We have rain predicted for tonight and tomorrow, but as it stands currently, we’ve had 120 mm of rain for the month, which means that the landscape has taken on a lovely neon green hue.

A Portuguese Expression:
À cara podre – literally in the rotten face – it refers to a shameless way of acting, especially when someone does something wrong without any shame or embarrassment

Written by: Jolandi