One Sunday afternoon we met up with the rest of the Portugal Team for a group picture. It was early fall, and the weather was cool. Harry wanted me to fit in as well as possible, and had counseled me to leave my bright American clothes in the states. Reluctantly, but with the newlywed desire to please, I did the best I could. Harry fit in except for one incurable problem: he was much too tall.
Another day I met him in town to shop for furniture. While I waited on the designated corner, I noticed that the shop I was standing by was a pet store. A litter of Siamese kittens were overflowing with cute in the window. Harry was not moved by their beautiful blue eyes.
We picked out a sofa, some chairs and a bed frame. We already had a mattress and had been sleeping on it on the floor. Then, he took me to the appliance shop to choose a stove. The first serious culture shock hit. Those stoves were too small for my baking pans. My second shock came when I looked at the front of the stove. There were buttons for the burners, but the oven had only two heat settings: low and high, indicated by a small flame and a large flame. I asked Harry about that. He said that all of the stoves were like that. *mild panic attack* I persevered, though, and eventually found a stove with temperature settings. In Celsius.
The things that we sent by ship (including our 220 washer and dryer) arrived around two months after we did. After about two weeks and some greasing of palms we had our things. It was like Christmas as we opened boxes and set up housekeeping for reals.
One night around ten p.m., Harry and I were cuddling in one of the new chairs in the living room as is the manner of newlyweds. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Harry pulled himself together to answer the door and I took myself off to another room in the house. It was one of the missionaries from another organization. He had seen a light on in our apartment and thought he’d stop by and say hello.
One fine day we went back to the pet store. Harry, in the way of newlyweds, wanted to please me. We bought a Siamese kitten and named her Samantha. Animals were not allowed on buses, so we had to smuggle her home in a cardboard carrying box.
The Portugal Years 
I remember borrowing that skirt that you are wearing in the picture!
LikeLike
I barely remember it. Thanks for reading and commenting.
LikeLike
I love these stories! It seems like it would have been a great adventure smuggling that kitten home. I like the picture at the top too. The professor can only imagine the cultural difference you had to undergo. (I don’t think I could read in Celsius even if I really had to!)
LikeLike
My dear Professor, I was a “few” years younger then, and had a grand love of adventure. Learning metric measures and Celsius temperatures were by far some of the easiest things I had to learn in Portugal. Once I got it into my head that there was no need to translate measures from English to Metric, it was much easier. I daresay that I could even reasonably attack the dual control stoves if the opportunity presented itself long as Schwarz was not holding my cookbook behind his back. 😀
LikeLike
😆 Schwarz might do something like that, too.
I think the professor would’ve died! You are such a brave adventurer!
LikeLike
No such thing, Professor. The Portuguese people would have taken care of you. They’re like that.
LikeLike
Well that’s good to know. 🙂
LikeLike