Experience trumps assumption. I have experienced the dark underside of how many Portuguese behave and treat their fellow human beings as opposed to what their smiling, double-kiss greeting portrays.
What kind of behavior shows the world at large that you are the practicing, God-fearing Catholic you so very vociferously profess to be? Does having statues of the Virgin Mary, Holy Water, and several rosaries around your house make you a Catholic?
What gives anyone the right to discriminate against, humiliate, and be downright cruel to someone just because they are not of Portuguese descent?
Why immigrate to South Africa to make a much better life for you and your children and then be vehemently opposed to your sons marrying the women of this country while refusing to learn to speak English, or at least one of the eleven official languages?
If you have lived in this country, made good money in this country, received excellent medical attention in this country for nearly fifty years, should you not consider yourself a South African of Portuguese descent?
Does sharing DNA make you a father, mother, sister, brother, or grandparent?
This is my memoir. A memoir, a biography or historical experience. This memoir is based on my personal knowledge, experiences, and feelings.
Every incident in this memoir is based on actual behavior and events. Some of the incidents are embellished for comic effect.
