we have that too

They were dining bife de chourizo that evening at one of the best restaurants in downtown Buenos Aires. JCD and Esteban Calderón had been discussing the greatness and similarities between Texas cowboys and Pampas gaúchos. Estela and Cristina had kept a low profile throughout diner.

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"My grandfather always told me that there was only one sort of people in the World comparable to Texas cowboys and those people were the gaúchos from the Pampas, Argentina", John said.

"Your grandfather was quite right", Esteban Calderón proudly agreed, as he drank his third glass of red wine that evening.

It was at this moment that Cristina intervened in the discussion for the first time. Casually, she said:

"In Portugal we have that too!".

It didn't stop John:

"My grandaddy even said to me that cowboys and gaúchos are the only people in the World who actually can talk to bulls".

"Oh sure, and in a language that bulls do understand", Esteban agreed.

Cristina interjected timidly:

"Oh, in Portugal we do that too!".

Nobody paid attention to her, except Estela who looked at Cristina, some piety in her eyes.

"You know, John, Argentina's meat from the Pampas is famous around the World because we actually love bulls from the heart", Mister Calderón said.

"In Portugal we love them too", said Cristina in a low voice.

"You know, Mr. Calderón, we in Texas treat bulls like people. We were the first country in the whole World to introduce a law that compels everybody to treat bulls like people", said John.

"In Portugal we have that too!", Cristina said but nobody listened to her.

John was drinking by now his fourth coke of the evening while Mr. Calderón was emptying his sixth glass of red wine. Estela looked at John with her black, mysterious eyes and asked in a slow, soft voice:

"John, would you like to taste Gaúchos' red wine? I guess in Texas you do not have wine."

"Oh, but in Portugal we have that too!", said Cristina in the meanwhile.

"We gaúchos and cowboys are the only caretakers of bulls in the whole World who have a professional dress code", said Estebán Calderón looking at John.

"In Portugal, we have that too!", Cristina said turning her face to Estela, the only person paying attention to her.

John had now drunk his glass of red wine in a single coup, as if he was drinking coke. Esteban filled his and John's glasses again.

"Cheers, John, to the United States and Argentina, the only two countries under the sun which have a brave professional class of people herding bulls - cowboys and gaúchos!", Esteban Calderón said, raising his ninth glass of wine.

Cristina was heard to say:

"In Portugal we have that too!".

John was now ready to empty his fourth glass of wine in a row. He was not used to alcohol which produced visible deleterious effects on his usually polite temper. It was at this moment that he lost patience with Cristina's impertinence:

"Wait a minute, Cristina, how come? Tell me how that tiny country of yours in the Middle East can have a class of professional people herding bulls, talking to bulls and, above all, loving bulls, like gaúchos of Argentina and cowboys from Texas. Just tell me!".

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For the first time that evening someone was taking Cristina seriously. She took heart with the agressive, depreciative tone in John's voice and said:

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"Look, John, you are as ignorant as a Texas cowboy can be. First, Portugal is not in the Middle East. Second, it is not a tiny country. Portugal is in Europe and has a population of ten billion people!"

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"What?! Ten billion?! Ahahahaha, that's more than the whole World's population", John laughed.

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Cristina hesitated for a while. Numbers were not her strong point, she conceded:

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"It doesn't matter. I am not an expert on numbers. If it is not ten billion it is one thousand million or ten trillion or something like that. The point is that we do have in Portugal a professional class of people who raise bulls."

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After a brief pause:

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"They are called campinos and they are from Ribatejo, where I was born", Cristina said, as she took from her wallet a photo taken at her father's farm north of Cartaxo, Ribatejo.