Oswaldo's talk and my Roadtrip

Friday, Sept. 18, 2009
Bleary-eyed breakfast at 7.30am and the convent convoy is off for the
conference, which starts at 8.30am today. While the academics distribute to
the various lecture halls I return to my seat in the library, as before
leaving my bags at the entrance, juggling computer, wire, notebook, iPod,
cellphone and pen in my hands. I set to work on my translations struggling
to find the medical terms in the dictionaries available.  At 11.45 I gather
my things to go to Oswaldo¹s lecture. He is sharing a desk with Ricardo, who
will introduce him, and is illuminated by a blue light from a computer
screen projected behind him ­ a leftover from earlier Powerpoint
presentations.  He briskly enters his subject and writes formulas and names
on the white board to illustrate his arguments, as he speaks into the
microphone in his other hand, followed intently by the audience. At the end
of 40 minutes there is a lively discussion of several points. His and the
other lectures are given in English, but there are many accents, Oxford,
Scottish, German, French, Portuguese, Danish, Italian...
I leave the academics behind for their lunch. The weather has changed
drastically from the sunny days before. It is cool, windy and raining
intermittently. I drive to Estremoz, 26 kilometers away, along fairly empty
roads lined with the usual countryside of dry fields dotted with olive and
cork trees. I see animals, cows, sheep, and pigs this time, but they are
hard to spot being almost the same color as the fields. It is raining hard
when I reach Estremoz and I am challenged with both finding my way to the
city center and to park. Eventually I discover a charming Municipal Museum
high on a hill next to a castle tower with an exhibition of a local
specialty, painted clay figures. The tour ends in a workshop in a garden
below where I talk to the artisan, who is selling beautiful specimens
ranging from 150-300 euros each. I am ready to spend 130 euros on a pair of
candlesticks, but he wants cash, for which I'd have to drive to a bank. I am
reluctant to do this and thus save the euros - maybe a good thing. From
Estremoz I drive to Redondo, a sleepy little down another 25 km away, a
center for ceramics. I find a ceramist sitting clay-dust covered in his
workshop. 'Pois', he says, 'this work is traditionally done by women. Now I
do it ­ - don't know whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.' I buy a
pretty olive dish for 2,5 euros.
Having driven the remaining 25km back to the convent I change into warmer
clothes and return to the university, where people are gathering to walk
across the cobbled streets of the town for the conference dinner, held in a
converted barn. Bits of conversation overheard are about 'truth functions'
and 'conditionals' ­ people are still excited from the talks. We are in for
a treat, a great variety of local dishes set out on large tables and, after
a while, the service staff gather to sing for us ­ turns out they form a
well-known choir of traditional Alentejo songs, and have performed all over
the place. The night ends with a merry sampling of many local liquors and a
challenging walk back through the little dark alleys to find the car parked
outside the university.
http://picasaweb.google.com/schateaubriand/OswaldoSpeaksRoadtripToEstremozAndRedonAndConferenceDinner#