…which, in my case, was right there, on the road to Senhora do Verde, in Alcalar. And I was in my environment, because my friends (sometimes) treat me as prehistoric and they still have some reason. Let's see: I was born in the last millennium, in the last century, I'm going to BC (On the Way) for seventy years and I went to Alcalar as a volunteer, something not very current.
Anyone looking at the official disclosure of this thing would know that “A Day in Prehistory” was an event held on the 7th of May, a historical recreation of the Portimão Museum in the Megalithic Monuments of Alcalar.
Those who didn't go don't know what they missed; those who went, based on what I saw, had a lot of fun, especially the kids, but without neglecting the adults.
Those who went there found a series of people more or less dressed (and painted) prehistoric, showing a series of things, from how to make fire with two sticks, how to engrave shale plates, make ropes with trovisco and other plants. , weaving, pieces in clay and other things that people entertained themselves with when the words we use today didn't even exist.
In order not to have a lot of writing work from here, instead of writing prehistory I'm going to write PH.
I will highlight a few things. Like any Portuguese, PH or not, food was very important. And it was to see people grinding cereals, making bread, preparing meats (from rabbit to pork) in the PH style, with knives made of stone, cooking peas and broad beans over fires, roasting the animals on a skewer, to also have to eat cockles, fish, wild fruits and beer (yes, this is not going to be dry). I tried everything, in a PH way and I didn't go wrong!
But I have to confess that if they were waiting for me to take a wild boar or a deer to the table at the PH, they were out of luck. I went to shoot, with a bow and arrows, but I was a disaster: I didn't hunt anything. Instead, I saw some kids with skill, who hit the animals precept. A word for animal advocates: the animals were made of styrofoam, so none were molested.
By chance, now that I mention it, there was a series of PH guys that were talking and acting like PH who, when they saw a dog, still thought the animal was edible, but the owner grabbed it... , in the PH and with the hunger, that one went; but as he was small, he also did not give much sustenance.
This PH gang had a wizard who spoke to PH and, from time to time, would give those who weren't expecting them to be scared. In this group, from time to time one “died”. It was a fuss. Here came the sorcerer, they mourned to the PH, there was funeral music PH and a “burial” PH. This was so realistic that I saw a little child crying with grief, clinging to his father, who tried to explain to him that it was just drama and pretending.
Since I'm talking about burial, don't forget that these things took place in a monumental area and, luckily, there were real archaeologists doing guided tours and explaining the historical context, as it should be.
All this was so real, that there was even a PH accident, luckily no victims (but the Firefighters were there, no matter what). There was a demonstration of how you could move, in a PH way, a huge block of stone, by means of round wooden logs. Things were going well, people were pulling on a rope and the block was sliding along the trunks. The stone was truly PH, the wood was not, so, at times, the trunks gave way, broke and this part became inoperable.
Now it was the kids who really enjoyed themselves. They were running around there, happy and content, satisfied kicking the stones, full of dust, doing activities, smearing themselves with paint and clay and, as a father would say to his son, “from here you go straight into the bath.” She went to the bath for sure, but it was certainly a happy bath, and with her exhaustion I bet she went straight to bed.
As I was threatened, perfectly PH, by the volunteers of the Group of Friends of the Museum, I have to say that, in the decal painting activity, about a thousand (happy, I never get tired of mentioning) children participated. We know how many there were because we spent four reams of paper. We also used up a lot of paint, with some of it also getting on the volunteers' hands and clothes, because whoever walks in the rain gets wet.
By chance, there was no rain. There was sun and heat and, perhaps because of this, there were 1750 visitors, aged between 3 and 93, Portuguese, Algarve and, in addition to the traditional English, French, German, Italian and Brazilian, some more exotic nationalities also appeared, such as New Zealand, Iran and…Ukraine.
Next year, I assume there will be another one of these days. And they promised it would be even better. Don't miss it and then don't say I didn't warn you!
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