cruz de pau

[ stories from lisbon - april 19, 2014 ]

i just had an almocinho at a table full of portuguese bred cape verdean women, all from sao nicolau. we ate oven roasted duck rice with chorizo and a simple corn, lettuce, and tomato salad. i hadn't heard excitement in my mother's conversations for a while. they giggled like teenage girls about the boys they used to date, how they met their husbands, their days living as neighbors in their apartments. martina is strong, a ray of sunshine that bursts through that cloud that perpetually hangs over my mother's head. i can see how she got her through the years here in portugal.

halfway through the meal a woman comes over. petite, brown-skinned, almost ethoipian in her appearance, a loud strong voice. she walks in and greets us all as martina takes a call on the terrace. she sits at the table and immediately helps herself to a healthy load of duck rice and fresh strawberries. she yells to marta that her cooking sucks. she knows exactly who my mother is. my mother takes forever and a million clues to know who she is. martina comes in to greet the woman. i believe her name is befani. they kiss on the mouth. they say its fine, they are each other's friends, husbands, lovers, and everything in between. 

martina offers her and my mother coffee as carla and i suck our teeth at their addiction. befani says, "cafe es meu gasolina" and martina and my mother erupt in agreement. someone's phone rings and they all tell each other to answer their "boyfriend's" call. the laughing tapers into an uneasy quiet. martina happily married, my mother bitterly divorced - the joke can only be funny for so long. befani seems torn between these two worlds. she stares down at her plate and makes a quiet statement about how, last night, her husband called for her, asking "where's that cow with my dinner?" 

martina tells her, if she were her, she'd slap on some gloves, slip a little rat poison into his papa in the morning, act like she didn't know it was there. we laugh. with vengence, with pride, with power. they begin streaming brainstorms  - how to kill a husband - stairs, frying pans, viagra overdose. we laugh, we laugh, we laugh. like friends, like lovers, like everything in between.

[ martina in cruz de pau ]

[ creola in cruz de pau ]

[ ana y cafe ]