“No one lives alone on an island—
we endure by leaning into one another.”

inspired by the writings of Vitorino Nemésio

In the Azores, friendship is not simply celebrated—it is practiced, cultivated, and lived as a form of everyday belonging. Long before it became a reason for feasting, friendship was a way of surviving island life: a shared table against solitude, a voice across distance, a hand extended in times of need. As winter loosens its grip and Carnival approaches, the islands mark time not only through the calendar but through human connection. The four Thursdays that precede Carnival become pauses in ordinary life, moments when friendship steps forward as a communal ritual—renewed, affirmed, and passed from one generation to the next, like a quiet inheritance carried by laughter, memory, and presence.

Over time, the work receded, but the rhythm remained. The Thursdays endured, carrying forward the understanding that friendship deserves its own space in the calendar—not as an afterthought, but as a deliberate pause. The first of these days, often called the “men’s day,” gathers friends around long tables where meals stretch into night, words are exchanged freely, and stories accumulate like sediment. Wine and beer are present, but they are companions, not the purpose. What matters is the act of staying—of lingering in one another’s presence without urgency.

The following Thursday belongs to the women, not in imitation but in affirmation. Here, too, friendship is claimed as a shared territory, marked by laughter, conversation, and a quiet assertion of autonomy. The gesture is playful, yet meaningful: a reminder that friendship is not singular, that it takes many forms and voices, each deserving its own moment of recognition.

The final two Thursdays—Dia dos Compadres and Dia das Comadres—soften the cadence. These days draw families closer, widen the circle, and allow generations to overlap. They are less exuberant, more intimate, grounded in familiarity. Here, friendship becomes continuity: the passing down of gestures, jokes, recipes, and ways of being together. What is celebrated is not novelty, but endurance.

To be in the Azores at this time of year is to witness how friendship animates public life. Homes open, restaurants fill, bars hum with conversation. The streets do not announce a festival, yet something unmistakable is happening: people are choosing one another. They gather not because they must, but because they understand that community, like friendship, only exists when it is actively renewed.

This year, Dia dos Amigos is marked today, January 22, followed by Dia das Amigas on February 29, Dia dos Compadres on February 5, and Dia das Comadres on February 12. But these dates matter less than what they signify. In the Azorean imagination, friendship is not an accessory to life—it is one of its quiet disciplines, a way of resisting isolation, of affirming presence, and of remembering that no island, however surrounded by water, survives alone.