The generator throbs and roars outside, permitting me to write this. We are the envy of the village. We have power and, because our Internet is via a satellite dish, we have Internet and that means communication. The phone lines and mobile towers are down. Mobile phones, normal cable-based Internet and landlines are useless.
I was in Dubai when a garbled text from ‘she who must be obeyed’ arrived. “Think we’ve lost the quinta”. Quinta is Portuguese for a small farm. As you can imagine, I was concerned and immediately returned home.
I returned to devastation. In the event, we had it lucky. The main house, being stone construction, had survived, but all of the other building, including my much cherished treehouse, had gone, consumed in the conflagration. We met a lady yesterday who, quite literally, had the clothes she was wearing, and nothing else. As I say, we had it lucky.
‘She who must be obeyed’ had sat in our quinta, watching the flames creep ever nearer. It was the sound, she says, that was so terrifying: A roaring, loud, whooshing and fiery crackling. Explosions could be heard; gas bottles, fuel tanks, car tyres, trees, just blowing up, all around. The sky was a deep red. It was, she says, raining fire, as great gobbets whooshed overhead, like avenging Valkyries, landing randomly and new fires would spring up where they fell.
Fim do mundo, our neighbour, Fatima, said. The end of the world. It certainly was apocalyptic.
The fires have raged from Seia, in the east, to Penacova, in the west, some hundred kilometres. Everywhere you go, the earth is black and still smouldering. It is simply awful. I went to the bank to talk about insurance and the staff were huddled at the back. They too, were without power, communications or solutions. Everything was noted down by hand and a promise to call when the power returned given.
Peoples’ faces are tight with strain. Tears flow freely. Hugs and help are given and there is real camaraderie. Our neighbours moved our smaller jeep from under the carport when the carport caught fire. They were the only three people who had remained in the village. Our other car, an old, battered truck, wasn’t so lucky. It is burned out.
A national tragedy has been declared. More than 40 have perished. This, in addition to previous fires earlier in the year. There is talk of the fires being started deliberately, either for insurance or by jealous people. I only hope I am never alone in a room with them. I’m not sure that I could control myself.
Through it all, however, the human spirit shines bright. The bravery and pluck, stoicism and fortitude of all is humbling. As an example, ‘she who must be obeyed’ simply kept guard over six animals and two houses for 48 hours, without sleeping, until I returned home, the nights spent, quite literally, fire-watching.
Nevertheless, we have our house. We are uninjured. We will rebuild what is lost.