What a confusing conversation! My chum Fernando, who I meet occasionally at a small hostelry just a brisk (at least at this time of year!) walk away through the wood, has finally got it.
I could almost hear the penny drop – or euro, to be more exact, I suppose. The cogs had been whirring, a bit slowly, admittedly, but they eventually began to rotate swiftly and surely, as my Portuguese language skills (not!) eventually did the trick.
It all began innocently enough; I mentioned, propos of nothing at all, that Portuguese people seemed to celebrate Christmas with a meal on Christmas Eve. I wasn’t too sure of the word ‘eve’ in Portuguese, so ended up saying ‘a noite antes Natal’, the night before Christmas. He agreed, and began to describe how he was planning to have both bacalhau (salted cod) and polvo (octopus). He was waxing very lyrical about the combination of cod, boiled eggs and potatoes, with a sauce of vinegar, olive oil and garlic, when a chap called Pedro intervened, to add that couve, or cabbage, even kale, should be included as well. The Portuguese take their food, especially their bacalhau, very seriously. This dish, prepared uniquely for Christmas Eve’s dinner, is called bacalhau de consoada. ‘Consoada’ is a word which is derived from the latin ‘consolata’ and the idea is that they are ‘comforted’ at the end of a day of fasting when they have the midnight mass, by a light meal of poached cod, boiled eggs and potatoes.
It was at this point that I made an error of judgement; I was trying to describe the differences in the way we celebrate at this festive time, and was describing ‘boxing day’. Fernando understood that we had a second day of celebration but couldn’t quite grasp why it was to do with boxing, or pugilismo, as he put it, affecting a somewhat southpaw stance and dancing like a rather inebriated butterfly around the table. It was a while before my explanation of encasing, or encaixotamento, with the word for box being caixote, that the idea of a day when boxes were opened, was fully understood.
By this time, we were equally conversant with the other’s customs, and had gathered a small group around us. There were some Portuguese fellows, all vociferously correcting and supporting Fernando with his ideas and recipes and a small group of British blokes, all trying to explain what Boxing Day was all about. More liquid flowed down throats and by the time evening was with us and we were heading for home, much festive cheer was in the air.
There was then much discussion around whether the word ‘happy’ or ‘merry’ was preferable, when describing the festive greeting. Given that the Portuguese equivalent is feliz Natal, not alegre natal, happy was elected the preferred adjective. The two groups of revellers stumbled into the gloaming and, with much shaking of hands and affirmations of friendship, wished each other a muito feliz natal. Of course, at this time of year, I wish all of you the same.