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We escaped to Portugal before we came to Australia and were housed in a tall block of flats. One day my mum cooked feijoada, which from a child’s perspective, is just a very smelly stew. I hated it but she would not let me go out to play until I finished my dinner. Mum couldn’t stand us wasting food …… I guess because she remembered what it was like to go without in Timor.
I could hear my brothers and sisters playing outside so I decided to throw the feijoada out the window of our 5th floor apartment. When I called out to say I had finished, Mum was suspicious so she checked the rubbish bin and a few other places and then said I could go out to play. Just then there was a knock on the door it was our neighbour with an armful of food-encrusted sheets and feijoada in her hair. In Portugal everybody hangs their washing out the window. |
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| Timor — Graziela Alexandrino | |
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