Carcavelos and Federal Markets
Market day in coastal Carcavelos, Portugal. Further down the beach, one town over, in the parish of Oeiras e São Julião da Barra, the official residence of the Portuguese Minister of National Defence is located in the Fort of the same name.
Fort São Julião da Barra at dawn, view from Carcavelos Marginal (2006); photo by Marla Miranda Mooney
Tents and tables side by side selling beachwear, housewares, ceramic pots, and tiles for transient travelers and locals.
I am both.
I was a regular here, a familiar face once a week since my family moved from Italy. Transplants from military changes of duty stations -- Virginians, a Californian, another is Floridian, one from Japan, and the preschooler holding my hand is from Italy. Far from my Philippine birthplace, my children’s births mark various duty stations we have called home.
When the Navy called an abrupt mid-househunt halt in Virginia’s Tidewater area because of an urgent DOD need elsewhere, we shifted gears and packed up our adaptability and agility, and headed to Florida.
And when a move overseas was announced amidst pre-teen cries of losing friends and teen angst of a ruined childhood, we packed our bags and boxes again and jumped into the new language and culture and friends in Italy. The move to Portugal was no different.
I made my way to the linen vendor whose cotton matelasse spreads and pillow covers were stacked on folding tables. The tented tarp overhead spans the side of their white utility van that hauls these goods from one town to the next; one market day to the next, week after week. The images of similar prints and patterns I’ve seen online and in seasonal catalogs assisted my hunt.
The linen stall was manned by a middle-aged man and woman, João and Maria, both of robust build and olive-toned complexion. Both constantly straighten the leaning stacks after each potential customer departs. Her eyes are red and he muttered while he slapped heavy plastic-encased slabs of bedding atop pile after pile.
I sifted through the stacks, more interested in her demeanor than the items on my shopping list. My eyes darted in between cotton towers to observe hers. My young son pulled on my sweater, reminding me of my promise of his favorite custard tart which depended on our departure from the weekly hive.
Maria and I locked eyes while João collected payment from another customer.
“Como você está hoje?” I asked her. How are you today?
“Não é bom” was her response. Not good.
Then a firehose of words beyond Portuguese 101 level! I grasped the tone. With every other understood word, Maria let me know that João’s surly demeanor stemmed from her failure to give him sons to work alongside them in their business.
“Tem certeza?” I asked. “Are you sure?” Mostly I was asking if I got this story straight. She nodded yes.
Something snapped inside me. I thought of myself as a teen in high school being told I could drive from DC to Ohio and meet up with a cousin for a Simon and Garfunkel reunion concert. The only requirement was that I had to be accompanied by a male: my elementary school-aged brother.
But I digress. That is a story for another day.
How many synonyms of “chromosome” and “genes” and “organism” and “DNA” could I come up with, using basic conversational Portuguese? How could I explain?
“Não e você,” I attempt. “It is not you.”
“A ciência nos diz…” I choke. “Science…”
How frustrating! Not conveying your ideas to your audience.
Not communicating!
I wanted to hear her completely.
I wanted to understand what she had to say.
We want to understand when someone is speaking to us.
She was working at max capacity and someone was telling her that it wasn’t good enough.
I wanted to explain what I knew to be true. To help her understand what was and was not within her scope of control.
And what about João?
“What? Why?” you might ask.
What if you were working at max capacity to feed your family and YOU felt that it wasn’t good enough? Displayed on the windshield of their utility van, João’s name was on the license to do business. Primarily, he was on the hook to make this venture succeed.
What if your livelihood relied on good weather?
They were under their tarp rain or shine. At dawn when they set up shop, the skies might be clear, but a downpour could have them frantically tossing piles of heavy bedding into their truck, rapidly folding up tables, and taking down their tent in the pouring rain.
There were days when João and Maria would hear the intermittent plip, plip, plop sound of precipitation on the tarp overhead and have to decide whether that meant they would work outdoors throughout a gentle rain or if they would need to pack it all up in the next hour. Would they wait it out and risk a downpour on their linens?
Was the intermittent foot traffic during this weather worth waiting it out?
And what about good weather? A “good day” could also mean João and Maria standing under the Mediterranean sun with humidity and temps over 100°F waiting for customers and a possible sale.
Driving away from the market before the end of the day meant lost wages and a direct impact on their family life.
After the events of 2020, who would not understand the frustration and feeling of helplessness when the way we LIVE LIFE was changed by uncontrollable circumstances?
What if your sales, your revenue, your income relied on random foot traffic?
Outdoors, 365 days a year, in between tables selling beachwear and ceramic tile. Everyone is competing for a sale.
How could you be sure your potential customers would find you there? How could you tell your customers that your linens were of the best quality? That your products could sell in catalogs like Pottery Barn, The Company Store, or L.L.Bean? How could you direct your target market of interior designers to you?
With or without sons, he and Maria would still be in between beachwear and ceramic tiles with “Lisboa” written across local street scenes.
If you were João, wouldn’t you want to tell your ideal customers exactly how to find you?
How would you do that?
In every form of business, in commerce, how can you set yourself apart from your competitors and other distractions from your sales?
How would you direct traffic to your site?
João and Maria’s dilemma does not have to be yours.
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In other words—
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