In December 1998, winter skies in Macao were perpetually overcast. As night fell, a light drizzle dampened the slick cobblestone streets, glistening under streetlights. Emanuel hurried through a quiet alley after work, glancing over his shoulder, uneasy. Someone was following him—he could only catch a fleeting glimpse of a thin shadow flickering under the dim glow of the streetlights. This was Emanuel Vital, vice president of the Macao Civil Servants Association, and the third time that month he had felt he was being tailed.
On Dec. 20 of that year, just days before Christmas, Emanuel decided to move his family to Portugal, the land of their ancestry. His son, Ivo, spent his 10th birthday on a flight to an unfamiliar homeland.
Ivo: I belong nowhere, I am a citizen of the world
(1) Leaving Macao as a child
Now 36, Ivo Vital works as a Chinese-Portuguese translator at the University of Macau. As a Portuguese resident in Macao, he has wrestled with one persistent question throughout his life: Am I truly a Macanese Portuguese? Macanese Portuguese, by definition, are descendants of Portuguese settlers born and raised in Macao, carrying both Eastern and Western heritage. Though Ivo was born in Macao, he does not consider himself part of this traditional category—he left for Portugal with his parents before turning 10 and grew up there.
Reflecting on why his family left, Ivo recalls: "No one knew what would happen to the Portuguese people here after Macao's handover. In the place we were born, would we be treated as foreigners? My parents told me this was why they moved." However, Ivo suspects another reason—his father had spoken on sensitive issues, drawing unwelcome attention and frequent surveillance.
Being uprooted from his birthplace, leaving behind all his friends and everything familiar, was painful for young Ivo. "I felt like I had been torn out by the roots." In a foreign country, language was his only connection with the locals. "I always felt like an outsider—not entirely Portuguese, but not Chinese either. It took me a long time to adjust."
(2) From engineer to Chinese-Portuguese translator
After graduating in civil defense engineering from the Polytechnic Institute of Leiria, Ivo worked for two years at the local municipal office, coordinating firefighters' response missions and developing operational plans. "Firefighters help people, and my job was to help firefighters," he explained. But the weight of his work was heavy—"I constantly feared that a single bad decision could cost someone their life."
The 2008 financial crisis devastated Portugal's economy, and Ivo was laid off due to municipal budget cuts. He took on small teaching jobs, instructing engineering skills, but his earnings barely covered his basic needs. The abrupt financial downturn forced him to abandon a long-planned trip to Iceland. Struggling for economic stability left him feeling frustrated and disillusioned. "Working just for the sake of work—that's not the life I want." He asked himself, why not return to Macao?
Determined, Ivo enrolled at Macao Polytechnic University to study Chinese-Portuguese translation. "I realized it wasn't as difficult as I thought—it was possible." He then spent a year as an exchange student at Peking University, improving his Mandarin. "Isn't there an old Chinese saying? 'Opportunities favor those who are prepared.' So when I got the chance to work in Macao, I seized it."
Despite leaving his parents and a girlfriend of eight years, Ivo returned to his birthplace two decades after leaving. He admits that sometimes he second-guesses his decision. "At times, I regret it. But overall, I think I made the right choice." His parents, particularly his mother, have been supportive. "She always says that when she retires, she'll spend winters in Macao and summers in Portugal." They now visit each other multiple times a year—either in Portugal or Macao—except during the pandemic. "Thankfully, it's all in the past. Thank God, may it never happen again!" Ivo knocks on his wooden desk three times—a habitual gesture to ward off bad luck.
(3) Old memories, new beginnings
For Ivo, returning to Macao feels both familiar and foreign—a fresh start. It's surreal to think that 30 years ago, he was just a student at Liceu Escola Portuguesa de Macau, and now he's a part-time lecturer in the Portuguese department at the University of Macau.
Recalling his childhood in Macao, he describes those years as "wild." "Most of us had Chinese-Portuguese heritage, with some Filipino friends in the mix, but we never saw any differences between us." At that time, everything in Macao was inexpensive—a bag of Skittles cost three patacas, and Maltesers, a popular chocolate treat, was five. Ivo admits he would sometimes "rob" classmates for candy money—but once he had enough to buy Maltesers, he shared them generously. "I would take their money, but I'd also give them something in return, so I considered myself an ethical bully."
As a child, Ivo spoke fluent Cantonese, as his mother came from a traditional Macanese Portuguese family. Cantonese was his second language. However, his Portuguese school prohibited the use of Cantonese, which led him to forget how to speak it. Even now, the language remains ingrained in him, but he mostly chooses to speak English. "Whenever I say '唔該' (thank you) after buying something at a convenience store, the cashier looks surprised. I don't like that reaction." He sighs. "People always assume I'm a foreigner. That's the curse of being mixed—you never fully belong anywhere. In Macao, they see me as Western. In Portugal, they think I'm Chinese."
(4) Where do I belong?
For a long time—especially in his teens and twenties—Ivo struggled with his identity. He never truly felt like he belonged to any country or place. He admits his affection for Macao—it was where he spent his childhood. He loves Beijing, its people, atmosphere, and scenery. Portugal, too, where his parents and relatives live. Yet, he always sensed a disconnect—none of these places felt like home.
But now, Ivo has made peace with it. "Today, I mostly see myself as a citizen of the world—not Macanese, not Portuguese. These are just labels people create. We are all human beings—we all belong to the Earth."
Carlos: witness to cultural fusion
(1) A lifestyle of dual heritage
As the same as Ivo, Carlos Augusto is also a Macanese with both Portuguese and Chinese descent, working at We Care Dental Center in Nova Mall, Taipa. However, Carlos has never doubted his identity as a Macao local. In his view, the Macanese are not as special as many imagine. He said that actually, they were just like other residents else in Macao.
Carlos's maternal family has lived in Macao for several generations. Here, he was influenced by Portuguese culture while also deeply influenced by traditional Chinese culture. Carlos explained that their generation spoke Cantonese, but also understood Portuguese. They celebrated Christmas and Chinese Lunar New Year. He mentioned that his mother was from Zhongshan and during Chinese New Year, his uncles and aunts would come to Macao to celebrate together. He added that they always held a big family gathering in a big restaurant in front of the Bank of China, handing out red envelopes to everyone in the family—it was so much fun!
Not only Chinese, celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival and Dragon Boat Festival are also annual traditions for Carlos's family. His mother always asks him to buy her favorite mooncake red bean stuffing Zongzi, both are traditional Chinese food. Although Carlos also like mooncakes, he has never been a fan of Zongzi. "It has too much sugar and carbohydrates, which is not good for teeth."
Carlos said "Macao is a special place where cultural blending is everywhere. A temple on the left, a church on the right—this kind of cultural collision is rare in the world." Carlos believes that the integration of Macao culture is the charm of this city. He equally loves and enjoys the lifestyle that blends the two cultures, like he would go to Macao's Red Market to buy cheap barbecued pork rice rolls and go to the Catholic church to attend mass on Sundays.
The locals in Macao like to call those of them who are "neither Chinese nor Western" as "Xian Xia Can", which means spreading Cantonese shrimp paste on Portuguese bread. Carlos likes this name very much.
(2) Macanese cuisine
Like Macao's culture itself, Macanese cuisine is full of fusion. Carlos emphasizes that food plays a vital role in Macanese culture. As he mentioned that Tacho is one of the most representative dishes in their food tradition.
Tacho is a slow-cooked stew inspired by Portuguese cuisine, combining cabbage, ham, and pork into a hearty mix. Originally made with Portuguese chouriço (spicy sausage), the Macanese version often substitutes Chinese sausage instead. "Every Christmas, my whole family gathers to share this traditional dish. It's not just about the flavors—it's like a cultural bond that ties me and my family together."
To Carlos, food is a key window into understanding Macanese culture, and it is also a way for the world to experience Macao's unique dual identity. In 2012, "Macanese Gastronomy" was added to Macao's Intangible Cultural Heritage list, and in 2021, it was further recognized as part of China's National Intangible Cultural Heritage.
And now, tourists who come to Macao will definitely try 'Portuguese chicken' and 'Portuguese egg tarts'. Carlos's glad his culture is being shared with the world through food.
(3) As times change, what does the future hold for Macao?
Looking back on his own growth process, Carlos clearly remembers that in the 1990s, most Macanese chose to study in Portugal. At the time. communication technology was not yet popular. Carlos recalls with a laugh, he was still using modem, and the children now all use Wi-Fi now.
However, with the progress of globalization, the changes in Macao are obvious. Carlos points out that this shift isn't just about the Macanese community but reflects broader transformations in Macao's societal landscape. Nowadays, more and more people are choosing to study in the U.S., the U.K., or even Chinese mainland for further studies. Under the trend of globalization, Macao's culture has become more diverse and its social structure has also quietly changed.
When it comes to Macao's future, Carlos isn't worried. Instead, he remains calm and assured. He mentions that he recently returned from Chengdu and was deeply impressed by the rapid advancement of the country's technology, as well as the safe and convenient lives of its people. "Many people are worried about the future of Macao, but I think the social environment has always been stable. Change is not necessarily a bad thing, but an opportunity."
Carlos expresses strong confidence in the future of the "One Country, Two Systems" principle, believing that Macao will continue to maintain Portuguese as one of its official languages in the next 50 years and continue to play an important role as a bridge between China and Portuguese-speaking countries. "For example, Brazil speaks Portuguese, and Macao can play an important role as a bridge between these Portuguese-speaking countries and China."
Optimistically, Carlos sees Macao not just as a meeting point of Eastern and Western cultures but will also become an important part of the globalization trend in the future.
Gabriel: guardian of Macanese culture
(1) Only about 50 people still speak Patuá worldwide
Alongside Macanese-Portuguese culinary traditions, Patuá theater has been listed as a national intangible cultural heritage. Patuá, the creole language of Macanese Portuguese communities, blends Portuguese vocabulary with Malay, Cantonese, English, and Spanish—just like Macanese cuisine, it is a product of cultural fusion.
Yet today, on the very land where East meets West, Patuá faces unprecedented challenges. Once spoken freely in Macao's streets and alleys, the language now survives only in the memories of the older generation. Gabriel, a local Macanese artist, has devoted himself to preserving this endangered language. With Portuguese usage dwindling annually, an unspoken anxiety weighs on him. Watching younger generations abandon the language, he sometimes wonders whether this cultural legacy can truly endure.
"Patuá is part of Macao's identity—it's the linguistic heritage of this city. If we don't protect it, it will disappear," Gabriel says firmly. He understands that if this language—spoken by only about 50 people worldwide—vanishes, it would mean more than just the loss of a communication tool; it would deal a severe blow to Macao's cultural diversity. Gabriel recognizes the weight of his responsibility, but he is also deeply aware of the challenges ahead. As modernization and globalization shrink Patuá's space for survival, the urgency of preservation and promotion grows. But how can this cultural relic truly be saved?
(2) Funding his own efforts to keep Patuá alive
Rather than dwelling on its decline, Gabriel channels his energy into reviving Patuá through art. Over the past five years, he has poured his heart into promoting the language—not only incorporating it into his own artistic creations but also organizing large-scale events celebrating Macanese Portuguese culture. He has written several Patuá-centered children's plays, such as "Come Home for Dinner," hoping to showcase the language's charm to younger generations through theater.
"I don't do these plays for myself—I do them for Macao, so tourists can understand our unique cultural treasures!" Gabriel exclaims passionately.
He has also held Patuá workshops at the University of Macau, attracting students from Chinese mainland. Encouragingly, many of these students have shown keen interest in the language. "They see it as a rare cultural phenomenon, and some have even asked me to create an official course on it." This cross-regional enthusiasm has given Gabriel hope for the future of Patuá. He firmly believes that education and community engagement are the keys to language preservation.
Beyond theater, Gabriel frequently participates in Macanese music productions, using melodies to capture Patuá's distinctiveness. He hopes that through diverse artistic mediums, more people will come to appreciate the value of this language.
However, financial constraints make cultural preservation an uphill battle. Gabriel admits that his latest children's play has faced serious funding challenges. Despite these obstacles, he remains undeterred—personally financing scripts and rallying friends to perform. "When you see young people showing interest in Patuá, all the hardship becomes worth it." This hope is what keeps Gabriel going on his mission to preserve the language.
(3) "Resilient like bamboo": Gabriel's quest to protect Patuá
While Macanese Portuguese culture has gained more recognition, Gabriel believes the government must increase its support. "Whether it's pastel de nata or Patuá, these are cultural specialties of Macao. They should be promoted and protected."
English and Mandarin's widespread use has undeniably overshadowed Portuguese and Patuá. As demand for Portuguese decreases, Macao's standards for official Portuguese translations have become lax. "Mistakes in Portuguese translations—like those in parking signs—are increasingly common," Gabriel notes.
He highlights another concern: many students who study Portuguese find limited job opportunities requiring the language upon graduation. Gabriel hopes the government will create genuine industry demand for Portuguese and Patuá—beyond token holiday performances featuring Portuguese songs. "Cultural preservation needs more than symbolic gestures—it requires tangible investment in resources."
As an advocate for Macanese Portuguese heritage, Gabriel has one dream—to restore Patuá to Macao's mainstream cultural life. He actively participates in Macanese Portuguese community events, engaging with elders in discussions about identity. He hopes to foster a renewed sense of cultural belonging among younger generations.
To Gabriel, Macanese Portuguese culture is not just a memory of one group—it is part of Macao's collective memory and rich diversity. "Macao's culture isn't singular—Portuguese and Chinese traditions have long been deeply intertwined. We, the Macanese Portuguese, are living representations of this cultural fusion." He argues that the Macanese Portuguese identity is no longer solely "Portuguese" or "Chinese"—it is a bridge that carries the essence of both.
When asked about Patuá's future, Gabriel remains hopeful. He recalls a story from the summer of 2019 during a trip to Malaysia. While asking for directions, he discovered a place called "Portuguese Settlement," where residents spoke Patuá. "It was incredible! I never imagined people so far from Macao would still use Patuá!"
Through conversations with locals, he learned that Malacca, like Macao, had been a Portuguese colony, preserving elements of colonial-era culture—including language. "Maybe this is the power of culture," Gabriel reflects. Despite geographical divides, Patuá continues to survive within small but vibrant communities.
"Macanese culture is like bamboo—it has incredible resilience," Gabriel says. Regardless of future challenges, language and cultural preservation require the dedication of every generation of Macanese Portuguese. He calls on more people to join the efforts to safeguard Patuá and contribute to its revival. "As long as we keep striving, Patuá's echo will never fade."
Reporter | Luo Haoning, Yang Yingxi, Bao Xiaoyu, Zhao Xiyue
The reporters are from the University of Macau.
