The road
meanders through the harvest. Women clad in black prepare a picnic banquet
for the men folk gathering the grapes. From here the route climbs through
forested hills and small villages looking down into a steep gorge. The
scent of eucalypt and pine predominates. Cork trees sport the year of
their last harvest in clear white digits. The evening sun throws long
shadows and paints a rich orange hue... Or so it was, some four years ago.
Now, black is the colour, charred wood is
the scent and the evening sun does its best to camoflague the desolation.
The smoke on the horizon is a reminder that it's not all over.
Afonso, a
local farmer shrugs his shoulders in defeat. "What can we do? It happens
every summer and nothing is done about it." Most blame the drought for the
extensive forest fires this year, Afonso points out that there is an
economic interest and a system behind it. Two were jailed for initiating
the fires on his land, but not the ones who hired them to do it.
What's really
frustrating is that the water shortage is constantly used as a scapegoat,
although only 1% of the Portuguese population is affected by water
restrictions. Golf courses are the main target of criticism in the local
press, but no one asks how or why the fires started. Could it be that the
paper industry has a vested interest too? Now as we approach the date for
local elections, huge billboards adorn these black forests advertising
smiling candidates' promises to build a better future. How do they propose
to do that? None were available for comment.
The fires
continue, but it's the huge indifference that's the real catastrophy.
"That's life in Portugal" is a chorus too often heard in these hills. Now
that almost half the country has been destroyed, the burning question is:
what will it take for someone to shout stop? |