It takes a village.

There is always something going on at the cafe in the small village of Enxames. It’s a no frills café with several tables inside and outside under a large metal awning. The espresso is 50¢, the galao (café latte) 70¢, a glass of wine or a beer 70¢. Next door is a small store, open like the café from morning to late. 

Everyone in the village comes by here and often twice a day. Mornings around eight, the ones who work come for a quick espresso or two or a small glass of vinho verde before work. Around noon it’s social hour for old men and women, a group of young men stop by for a quick drink and the propane truck drivers take a break with beer and a coffee. After lunch, around one thirty, the rest of the village shows up, the coffee grinder runs now constantly. 

The old people are still there and exchanging news about how a family member is doing at the hospital. Four old men started playing cards now, more looking on. More women are coming to the cafe. Others are going back to work, it’s close to two now and the rest of the work day to tackle.

On Sunday I walked into the village. From the small farmhouse we are staying in it’s an easy half an hour walk. When I entered the village, I could hear them already. The café was full, inside and on the terrace all seats were taken. It was after church and presidential election day, the entire village was at the café. Young and old, in their Sunday best. 

There was a small crafts market with jewelry, clothes, home-baked cakes and home-made cheese. Mostly expats were selling their goods, but also a young Portuguese couple who settled here on a farm after living for years in Asia. They said that they have sustained themselves from what they grow for the past months, living off their land. The owner of a large yoga, meditation and off-grid retreat in the area was selling haloumi and baked goods she had made, other stands had honey and marmalade, dried spices and herbs.

The locals don’t mingle so much with the foreigners and vice versa, but everyone treats each other with friendly respect. It depends on the curiosity of the foreigners to initiate contact, the Portuguese respect the distance. There is quiet a mix of foreigners in Enxames: Germans, English, Dutch and Brazilians. Many young Portuguese have moved from the rural areas to the cities, so foreigners are buying the lands left behind, bringing small but sufficient pensions to restore the old farms and ruins. The health care systems is good and recently, in an act to vitalize Portugal with Northern European retirees, new residents get ten years tax free on their income. And all this in a pleasant climate. What’s not to like?

The integration of foreigners seems seamless, language translation apps help, and most young Portuguese speak perfect English. I heard that the Portuguese are open and easy going about this, in general they seem to have a soft and laid-back disposition. Tourism and expats bring money. Possibly none of the money coming in will trickle down to them, because politicians make sure, I was told, that money only runs into their pockets and corruption ruins any progress. Maybe the foreigners will bring some progress with their eco farms and environmental thinking, a recent protest against lithium mining in the Serra da Estrela mountains was manned mostly by expats supporting rising local concern.

Lisboa is different. Not only is the coffee three times as expensive and served in stylish cafés, the center is overrun by tourists as the city is a new hotspot for celebrity expats. Not surprisingly, Lisboa is charming, old and vibrant. The city rolls out over seven steep hills connected through narrow streets and stairs with large squares, churches and castles in between. There are hundreds of pretty views, often to the Tejo river and there is always a pleasant breeze from the sea. Tourism is, as usual, a mixed blessing – it stimulates the economy but can also hollow out neighborhoods when residents are pushed out in favor of premium paying guests. A restaurant owner and a waiter I spoke with see the change round them and mourn the loss of the small city feel Lisboa used to have. Instead of running into friends in the streets, they fall over tourists staring at their cell phones trying to find a recommended attraction.

At the village café and even a big village like Lisboa people grow up together, raise families, share life. People crave and need this kind of a bond and connection. We are social creatures and live within families, communities and tribes. Yes, it does take a village.