As I Walk Through Life: A Family's Struggle from the Azorean Islands to Africa

By Lina DaPonte

The story reveals the life of a family with ten children moving from a Portuguese island were life was peaceful and danger free to Africa and face an unknown culture full of hardship and starvation. Mom and Dad's courage to keep going and looking for something better, but there were times when better was a luchury and settling for just a way to survive and raise their children were sometimes the only option, moving from place to place facing the danger of the unknown and the means to survive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 4, 2011
• ISBN: 9781467061995

Lina DaPonte

This book reveals the struggle of my parents raising ten kids in a new country facing the dificulties of providing for the children and make sure they would have the chance of an education. I am one of the children and lived the struggle, these are memories that no one can take from me, one can not imagine stories like this, they have to be lived. When my children were growing up I used to tell them stories that I remembered of my youth, they would spend hours just listening to me and asking me questions over and over. As I was telling the stories I realised how important it was for them to know about me and the experiences I had gone through that's when I began writting a journal of my memories and sharing them with my brothers and sisters to either clarify them or to remember something that I no longer was sure of. After I got married I moved to the United States with my husband and my oldest son. I continued to write on my journal but I also needed to improve my English language so my children could read it some day. I went back to school and finished my MS in Training and Development. Since then many things happen in my life one of them was becoming disabled. I do live a full life with my sons and grand children and I want very much for them to learn about my amazing life.

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© 2011 by Lina DaPonte. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/17/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4670-6197-1 (sc)

ISBN: 9781-4670-6199-5 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011918326

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter I

life on the island

Chapter 2

sailing to the promised land

Chapter 3

escape to the sugarcane plantation

Chapter 4

life at the plantation

Chapter 5

the move across the river to marracuene

Chapter 6

moving around a bit, from suburbs to the countryside

Chapter 7

establishing roots

Chapter 8

dad goes to south africa

Chapter 9

i grew up fast

Chapter 10

on my own in australia

Chapter 11

civil war and

the refugee camp

Chapter 12

life in south africa and the united states

Chapter I

life on the island

The sun is peeking through the small window, but I am too lazy to get out of bed. I can hear the birds flying outside. Even the rooster is telling me it is time to get up, but it feels like I just went to bed one hour ago; does this rooster ever sleep?

I can smell Mommy’s coffee. She must have gotten up very early, and she always gets up early to make breakfast before Dad leaves for work at the American air base. The smell of freshly brewed coffee sweetened with condensed milk is a morning tradition, or it is just a heavenly way to get out of bed. It’s Ricory, and the aroma fills the house like a sweet morning smell of the flowers after a rainy day. With bread and homemade butter, it’s a breakfast made for a king.

The sea breeze is in the air, breathing softly against my window. I can hear the sea gulls cry and the waves beating against the rocks behind the house, but I am too lazy still. I hear Mom calling, It’s time to get up, or you will waste a beautiful morning lying in bed. It’s just like Mom to make us feel guilty. Yes, the sun is up, but that does not mean I have to get up too.

But the smell of the coffee seems irresistible, and I don’t want to let Dad leave for work before he gives us the morning blessing. By tradition in the islands children have to ask the mother and father for blessing every morning, after work, and before going to bed, and there are no exceptions.

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Dad is sitting at the table with the cups in front of him when I come out of my room, still rubbing my eyes. Good morning, Dad, Mom. Please bless me.

God bless you, I hear him say as he pours the hot coffee into a cup and slides it over to me. Life is good, or so I think. Another voice behind me asks for their blessing, and one by one we drink the warm cup of coffee and turn around and go back to bed. Mom and Dad, sitting at the table, whisper softly so as not to disturb the ten sleepyheads who want to sleep just a little more.

Life in the Azorean Islands, as I remember it, was quiet and simple. Dad managed to take care of the land and work at the American airbase as a mechanical engineer. We had a lot of vineyards and fruit trees; we were one of the few families that lived well on the island. The vineyards surrounded the house down the hill a couple of miles to the stone wall by the road; they continued on the other side of the road that went across the property. Harvest time was a community affair; each family took a turn harvesting the grapes and making the wine, and even the women and children helped.

Mom did not work on the land unless it was a season like harvest time when every person counted and was needed. She took care of the home and the children (there were plenty of us to keep her busy). She did a lot of sewing for us as well as for income. Since we lived mostly off the land, we also had some chickens and pigs for home consumption, and they were Mom’s responsibility.

Around the property there was a very high stone wall that seemed to have been there forever; on the inside of the wall there was