The Portuguese are kind people. Tim and I have been the beneficiaries of their thoughtful kindness innumerable times since even before our arrival in their country. This week I was reminded again how kind they are when my friend Jo told me a story. She had a recurrence of a minor medical condition that needed a doctor’s attention. Although Jo and her husband Ken are 21-month veterans of living in Portugal, they’re fairly new to Setubal. Jo hadn’t yet had the occasion to cultivate any relationship with a local, English-speaking doctor, so she asked our Portuguese landlady, Paula for a recommendation. Paula gave her a name and phone number, and then checked back with Jo to make sure she’d had no trouble making an appointment. On the day of the appointment for her in-office procedure, Jo was touched to learn that Paula had stopped by the doctor’s office to make sure she was okay. Did she want a friend to wait with her? Had the doctor been able to help her? Did she need a ride home? Paula learned from the receptionist that Jo was with the doctor and doing fine. After Paula confirmed that Jo had a way home, she left the office. Jo would never have known of her quiet kindness had the receptionist not told her.
These are the common courtesies the Portuguese people we’ve met show us every day. Now, I don’t want to paint a picture of total paragons. Portuguese folks can be impatient drivers. Some are loathe to pick-up after their dogs. The boisterous celebrations and horn-honking after the local team wins an important soccer match can last for hours. But, their person-to-person relationships are sprinkled with an easy, natural kindness.
I thought of this the other day when a friend of ours posted an article on a Facebook page for American immigrants. It turns out that Portugal has a surprising law on the books that assumes most of their citizens would naturally chose to come to the aid of strangers in an unconventional way. In this country, everyone who dies is automatically assumed to be a willing organ donor, unless they have opted out through a national registry. This little country has a low opt-out percentage, and consequently, people spend less time on the waiting list for organ transplants than would be expected elsewhere. The law, and more importantly, the citizenry’s tacit acceptance of it, remind me again how the default setting of these folks seems to be whatever is the greater good for society. That shows up in a willingness to pay higher taxes to provide for the general welfare. It’s reflected in the policy that pregnant women, people with small children, the elderly, and people with physical impairments get priority service in public places; the first positions in long queues at banks, guaranteed seating on crowded buses, quick service in a busy restaurant. No one grumbles or fusses when someone steps forward to claim their priority status.
This selflessness and ability to see beyond one’s own immediate wants or needs in favor of someone else is a very appealing character trait. I can even see it demonstrated in certain governmental responses. I’ve mentioned it before, but when the EU tried to force Portugal into extreme economic measures to repair their teetering economy a few years back, the government declined. They believed austerity was not the answer to long-term financial health, so they launched innovative programs to bring more cash into the country, and spent it on programs that would directly improve the quality of life for the Portuguese people. Consequently, the Portuguese economy is on the rise. Even our local government has taken the long view for improving the economic climate of this blue-collar town. While doing windespread marketing about the tourism opportunities here, they are also investing in initiatives that directly effect the quality of life for ordinary residents of Setubal. On any weekday, in every quadrant of the city, you can see two-person crews sweeping and cleaning the streets and sidewalks. The urban parks in this small city are some of the most delightful and inviting I’ve seen anywhere. Little neighborhood playgrounds for young children are popping up, and compact, efficient recycling stations are readily available all over the city. And, as I’ve mentioned a lot on these pages, public art abounds in the bustling commercial district and in neighborhoods. All of these efforts make Setubal a vibrant, happy place to be.
Is it any wonder we love it so much?
No wonder at all. I’m so happy you made your dream come true—much as I miss you both. Much love, Mom