The “slave” who quotes Shakespeare

Praça de Figueira, Lisbon: lunch break has just finished and everybody is hurrying back to their jobs. Everyone except the tourists sitting in the cafés, a few birds pecking at crumbs, and some old men loitering in the park. We are here to talk to the African immigrant community about their journey to Europe, but it’s not an easy task.

Copyright Alexandra Bertrand

We try approaching some people, but most of them only speak Portuguese and are not friendly to us – three white smiling students asking for an interview in English. We’d like to know something about their living conditions, but it seems that no one will talk to us. Until we find a young man from Angola, who introduces us to his friends. We invite them to talk in a café: talking is easier with some refreshing drinks.

John Baley Wiston is a healthy man. His hands are strong, but his eyes are gentle and his voice is pure. He has a lot to say and finally he found someone who is interested in the hell he lives in. He’s 43, but he looks older. Life hasn’t been easy on him since he arrived in Portugal in 1993, on June 6. He remembers this day very well as he arrived from Liberia, a formal British colony with a name full of hope. I ask him why he didn’t move to England instead and he simply replies: “I came here by coincidence, I had no choice. It was during the war in Liberia. The only way to save your life was to jump on any wagon, so I came here by boat. It took two weeks”. Even though he has been a legal resident since 1997, John doesn’t feel Portuguese: “The emotions, background and mentality are different”.

Like many male African immigrants in Lisbon, Wiston works in construction as a labourer. The work of a labourer is dangerous and involves little financial security: “Many people die, but if you refuse to do something, they fire you. These are only temporary jobs and it happens that we don’t receive any money for the work we have done”. Supervisors are called “gargados” and their strategy is trying to shy away from their responsibilities: “They have no respect, they intimidate you and abuse you, telling you any type of things”, says John, “They make you feel like a slave”. Labour unions exist, but they can’t work if workers first don’t speak out. “Africans from Portuguese colonies never speak out. They are scared, they’ve never been used to having labour rights. Africans from British colonies don’t behave like this. But if we are divided, as workers and as Africans, we will never change things”. Sometimes the government organises security checks, but they’re insufficient.

Faith and music

Copyright An-Sofie Kesteleyn

John lost all his family in Liberia, and hasn’t been able to go back and visit his homeland, nor can he afford to move forward with his life and start a new family. He is stuck in time, a prisoner of a dreadful situation. If he had the opportunity to study and learn something, if Portugal gave him this chance, things would be different. He would like to have his own business, he would find his own way, anything which could make him independent. Then he would send money to his country. “I’m forced to do my job. There’s nothing I can do here. It’s not question of liking it or not.” If he could say something to the European Union, he would say: “There are so many Africans who could be engineers, lawyers, because they studied, but they don’t have the opportunity. If you don’t want all these immigrants to come here without any role, you have to start solving the problem from the roots. You don’t have to think about Africans here, but you have to help Africans in Africa. They need technologies, schools and hospitals. Without money they can’t do anything. My generation has problems, the forth generation will have more and more problems. Poverty is not a natural thing, it’s a man made thing, caused by capitalism”.

John is charismatic, full of information, and is always smiling, even though inside he is sad: “I feel like I am handicapped by this senseless world”. But he trusts in the next generation of Europeans – maybe the future will be better. For the moment, he has to face reality. “The most important thing is to find a form of relief for yourself. I find it in faith and in music: ‘If music be the food of love, give me excess of it that suffice the appetite’: it’s Shakespeare.” I ask him to write the quote on my notebook, because I can’t remember it. His hand shivers, the letters are barely legible.

Ilaria Lonigro

L’auberge portugaise

“Pardal pardo, porque palras – Grey sparrow, why do you chatter away?”, Vanise Amaral reads out and looks expectantly at the faces of her students. “Pardal pardo, porgue palras”, they dutifully repeat the tongue twister. Amaral’s students however are not kindergarten kids but grown up students who decided to spend one or two Erasmus semesters in Lisbon.

In room F1 of the “Universidade Lusíada de Lisbon” about ten pairs of eyes look more or less attentively at Portuguese teacher Vanise Amaral. Ewa from Poland sits next to Elena from Italy, and while in the last row, Riina from Finland looks fresh and well-rested, Daniel from Germany has to fight his tiredness. It is eight o’clock on a Friday morning, time for the new Erasmus students of the Lusíada University to begin their Portuguese class for beginners. For three weeks the students have been following the lectures, one more week lies ahead. Still, it is not easy for them to talk to the inhabitants of their new hometown.

Sibilant suffering

“Yesterday I tried to speak Portuguese with a taxi driver. He did not really understand me and I did not really understand him, but nevertheless it was nice”, Smaranda Alexandrescu laughs. She was born in Romania, grew up in Luxembourg and now studies in Brussels. Since all the university classes of the 23-year-old are held in Portuguese she is very confident that it will improve soon: “I just have to get through it”. Riina Kaartamo (27) from Finland also believes that she will make progress: “I live together with a Portuguese woman. Until now we actually talk in English, but we will start to speak in Portuguese soon.”

Although all students of Vanise Amaral’s class agree that Portuguese is not an easy language to learn, their problems differ. “For me the ‘sh, sh, sh’ is the most difficult”, says Elena Bartolozzo from Italy as she grimaces and makes sibilant sounds. Her neighbour Ewa Pol from Poland disagrees: “That is easy for me because we have that in Polish as well. I think it’s hard that one word can have so many meanings.”

Shy northerners

Although she admits that her students would get along fine with English in Lisbon, Amaral nevertheless thinks that it is good that they learn it. “I don’t think it is so important, because English is a great way to communicate. But Portuguese people like it when people speak their language.” For student Ewa Pol, there was no question that she would take Portugese classes. “I am staying here for one year and for me it would be a shame, if I didn’t speak a word of Portuguese after that”, the 23-year-old architecture student says.

In her twelve years of teaching students from different European countries, Vanise Amaral has noticed that there are differences between different countries. “People from the North are often shyer than people from the South, Italians for example are more open”, she says. After all, no matter where the students come from, to learn Portuguese they all have to work hard. Asked for the secret of how to learn the language as fast as possible, Amaral says says: “The best way is to try to speak to Portuguese, to try to communicate with people and read the news. But of course you have to learn the grammar too”, she says almost a bit apologetically.

Sabine Stang

Trapped in time: an African immigrant’s odyssey

“Who wants to do an article on Africans in Portugal?” In a room full of European journalists a wave of hands go up. But why are we so interested in this topic? Is it just that we are looking for “colour” for our articles? Do we simply want to find some striking cultural differences to impress our readers? Or perhaps only a tag line for a spicy shocking lead?

Copyright An-Sofie Kesteleyn

For me, the question of immigration is at the heart of what the European Youth Press stands for. Our aim is not only to create awareness of the work of the European Parliament, and issues that are topical in individual member states, but also to forge a European identity: What is a European? How can the European Union facilitate the integration of so many cultures?

Samm’s story is a case in point. The 29-year-old has lived in Portugal for 16 years, but now feels lost and helpless in the country he fled to in 1992 to escape the war in Liberia. He was lucky – eventually he was granted a visa which allowed him to get a job. He worked in construction as an unskilled labourer like many of his fellow Liberians – dangerous, poorly paid, irregular work – but still he felt like he had a chance. Yet in 2004 his employer cheated him out of his taxes, and when he went to renew his visa he was refused: “The last time I had legal papers was in 2005. I told the SEF [Portuguese Ministry for Immigration] what had happened but they didn’t care about my problems. They made it harder for me. Here in Portugal they don’t have people who care.” Now Samm relies on his friends to help him out, “I won’t go and take money from the social service, I can’t do this, I have more dignity than that”.

New generation

Copyright An-Sofie Kesteleyn

The helplessness of Samm’s situation is painfully ironic: “Now I have to pay the taxes that I owe the state so I can have my visa re-instated” Samm explains, “but I don’t have the money because I am not working. And I can’t work until I have my visa – it is enough to make you go crazy.” According to Samm, the European Union is not doing enough in Portugal, although in other countries the situation is better. “The EU is doing a lot for immigrants in Holland and Spain”, he remarks. Does he feel like a European? “I feel like I have a right to be here, after all these years. I just want a stable life. If I could do anything, I would work as an interior designer. I could have had a family by now but I can’t even support myself”. He strokes his hair where the strands of grey are beginning to show.

Across the city in a quiet residential neighbourhood, Nelson Chantre, a bright-eyed, well-dressed student, is taking part in the initiation of the new students at his university. His father came from Cape Verde when he was just 17, settled and married a Portuguese lady, and Nelson was born in Portugal. “I feel an affiliation to Cape Verde but I am Portuguese. People here are beginning to feel like Europeans too,” he tells me. To me, Nelson is the epitome of the “new generation” of Europeans that are a part of our collective identity. He is a second generation immigrant, but he is also a European, and like many of us, he looks beyond the borders of Portugal and sees a bright future for himself in Europe.

Samm’s story could have been different – he could also have a son Nelson’s age, who is looking to the future. Instead, he is trapped in time, unable to move forward with his life and achieve his potential. Yet Nelson is testament to the fact that integration is possible, and desirable. Our European identity can be greatly enriched by those who by accident of language, war or colonisation in their home country, come to Europe for a brighter future.

Tanyella Allison