When I ask: “are you ready for the fall?”, I mean of course autumn, as (quite rightly in my view) the British reader may prefer to refer to it, and not the collapse of civilisation. Although for some these, two processes may feel quite similar, and are the subject of my ramblings this week.
As I write, having woken up in Óbidos this morning, brought to my senses by the sound of fireworks and birdsong, and similarly laid to nightly rest only a few hours earlier by more distant booms and muffled PA systems, I’m aware that the summer festa season is on its last legs. The Portuguese party spirit is down to its last vapours, as we enter a period of slight respite, ahead of renewed festive vigour that will surely come (sorry to mention it) with the Christmas holidays.
It’s at this time that the foreigner or expat might feel a particular kind of seasonally affected disorderliness, or SAD as it’s officially known and suffered. As the country – in a beautifully, paradoxically Portuguese way – makes sense of a constant urge to ‘make some noise’ and party against the cultural and characteristic backdrop of calm which we know and love, a whiff of melancholy now joins the national aromas of salted cod and coffee.
Incidentally, the American use of the word ‘fall’ is thought to date back to the 1500s and refers unsurprisingly to the time of year when deciduous trees are shedding their leaves. It has since given US songwriters and poets a distinct advantage over other cultures. “Winter, spring, summer or fall” sang the great Carole King, who had a lyrical open goal putting “All you have to do is call” thereafter, in the back of the songwriting net, where those who live with ‘autumn’, and its Latin origins, were still scratching their beards looking for a decent rhyme.
But I digress, and the reason I mention fall or autumn at all (which require no capitalisation I am reliably informed, unlike ‘the Fall’, which is far too big an idea to address today) is to forewarn and forearm those new to Portugal, and really anyone who wants to survive that unthinkable thing here – the winter. So, with other asides and observations, I offer today a winter survival guide, which of course starts now, as the days grow noticeably darker and colder, and the ever-present, distant din of the festa season, gives way to only an occasional pimba-blast from a passing vehicle, a seasonal equinox and an inner turn of awareness and sensitivity.
Without wanting to alarm, but only alert, I feel it’s my duty to suggest that you gird your loins for the downward slope into the darkest times in this culture, such that your mental health may remain robust enough to see you into the new year and ultimate return of the light. Heed my heads-up, so that you can arise unscathed from Portugal’s societal, virtual hibernation into – dare I say it – those 300 days of sunshine, (which are of course, I say are merely metaphorical for legal reasons).
Yes, usually of a positive and Pollyanna-esque polarity, it’s me telling you that despite our manful attempts to keep partying, that time of year is approaching when our attention necessarily and naturally turns inward. And for those who are recently far from ‘home’, and who may be desperate to remain upbeat to affirm their migratory life choice, dropping temperatures and longer nights will be a test of your life-changing decision.
So what to do, when your Portuguese picture postcard version of reality and the representation you were happy to share on summertime social media, are slowly getting replaced by shots of unanticipated black mould and your unintelligible and eye-watering electricity bill on Facebook?
Basically, let me tell you that a first winter in Portugal is something you’re unlikely to be prepared for. It seems to me that all countries build houses to suit the majority, but perhaps not all conditions that a homeowner may face, with the notable exceptions perhaps of Germany and Scandinavia, or places that are hot or cold, ALL the time. Portugal is NOT one of these places, and the average scenario for housing stock here is rightly our glorious spring and summer months or the conditions that generally come with them. As you prepare for the coldest months here, may I suggest you abandon the expectations created in your original culture and think of ‘layers’ rather than central heating and thermostat-driven comfort.
Beyond the physical, and perhaps more importantly – in the ‘cold country with the hot sun’ – adjust and raise your mental game too, being creative and responsive instead of disappointed and in a persistent state of upset. After a few years of researching Portuguese winters, I’d say we have as much to learn from ice bath proponent Wim Hof as we do any mere mortal who tries to explain the many and various tariffs of a Portuguese electricity bill when finding us the cheapest home heating energy.
Winter in Portugal is a matter of mind-over-matter, as you will see if you study the Portuguese closely as I have done. First come the layers, indoors and out, but after them comes the psychological business of acting like it’s not even happening – “Winter, what winter?!”
Should you make it through your inaugural ‘hibernal’, you may well in year two join the mass cultural cognitive dissonance, marked by scarf-wearing indoors from November to February, that denies any existence of Samhain to Springtide, and can actually override human physiology and sensory experience. I would not have believed it, had I not seen it for myself.
On a more serious note, this can be a tough time if you are new here, or even if after many years the colder and darker nights arouse a similarly dismal state of mind. The contrast can be severe as the bright, light-filled days we moved here for, give way to a grey and damp that can evoke feelings of uncertainty and even misery. Should this happen, know that those glorious, bone-warming and life-enhancing days will return once more, eventually.
And if you can’t shake off the dark blues and seasonal sadness, which when you feel alone in a foreign land can be really hard and even life-threatening, remember that Share and Care are just a phone call or Facebook message away (see www.facebook.com/groups/sharecarept) where you can reach out and have your concerns and questions heard, with compassion and without judgement, and over 500 members access “advice, community support and information about living and dying, grief & bereavement in Portugal”.
As for the upcoming winter, let us never speak of it again, and only mention the weather when we can once more boast about it on our timelines to the friends back home.
By Carl Munson
Carl Munson is host of the Good Morning Portugal! show every weekday on YouTube and creator of www.learnaboutportugal.com, where you can learn something new about Portugal every day!
