The Ancient Art of Affected Gratitude
ONE thing I admire about the Portuguese is their brutal honesty in the face of ill-conceived generosity. If they don't like a particular gift, for example, they will usually tell you in very plainspoken and unaffected terms. The English, on the other hand, are completely different and will greet the umpteenth pair of brown and orange socks, toe-crunching paisley slippers or viciously assembled Barry Manilow compilation through carefully manufactured whoops of unadulterated glee. You would think the person receiving the unwanted item had just been presented with the keys to Buckingham Palace, despite stuffing the offending object under the bed at the earliest opportunity and then returning to the scene of the crime to thank the person all over again from the bottomless depths of their heart; or at least the space where the heart should be. Saying that, no doubt my Portuguese friends will study me very carefully next time I become the unwitting recipient of their munificence and even test my sincerity by furnishing me with the worst objects imaginable.