Livin' la vida troika: Portugal's pain as the screws tighten on public spending

João António Espadeiro, 84, lives in the small town of Morão, in the Portuguese region of Alentejo, 200 kilometers east of Lisbon and just 10 kilometers west of the border with Spain's Extremadura region. His wife died of cancer two months ago. Since then, his only company is a skinny, yapping little dog.

Espadeiro is ill, and has had a pacemaker for years. He dispiritedly shows the reporter around the courtyard on this cold and sunny winter morning. Standing near him is Vania Paias, part of the team of doctors and ambulance drivers that serves the district. Espadeiro points at his chest and says he is in bad shape, but that he often skips his periodic visits to the hospital in Évora, 70km away, because the ambulance costs 36.50 euros and he cannot afford it.

Ever since medical transportation for non-emergency patients stopped being free - part of Portugal's bailout conditions - Espadeiro has to make sure he does not use up too much of his 475-euro pension on ambulance rides.

Paias knows more cases like this one: the woman in a wheelchair who no longer goes to physiotherapy in Évora; the diabetic who learned how to inject himself with insulin; the woman who died of breast cancer because, without the ambulance, she'd have to take the 8am bus to Lisbon and return on the same route at 10pm.

Meanwhile, a nearby parking lot holds a dozen new ambulances in mint condition. Such are the paradoxes of a country without the means to use its own infrastructure, which it created back when things were not so bad.

Last May, a country that was staring bankruptcy in the face asked the European Union (EU), the European Central Bank (ECB) and the International Monetary Fund (IMF) for assistance. This troika, as it has come to be known, accepted the plea for help and loaned Portugal 78 billion euros, payable in several installments. In exchange for the money (besides interest), the government was asked to come up with a detailed calendar of cost-cutting measures that the current conservative administration of Pedro Passos Coelho is complying with meticulously, and is making the average Portuguese's life worse from week to week.

Earlier this month, troika representatives arrived in Lisbon to review whether conditions were still being met. The next day Diário de Notícias ran a picture of them, looking young, modern, smart and all smiles as they carried their laptops in their briefcases. If they are happy with their findings, these delegates approve the next installment of the loan. The citizens of Portugal observe them with a combination of resignation, helplessness, disbelief and a certain amount of fear that each new visit will tighten the noose around their own necks just a little more.

They call it vivir troikados , which could be loosely translated as "livin' la vida troika." In a recent survey to find the word of the year in Portugal, "troika" came up third after "austerity" and "hope."

Prime Minister Passos Coelho is convinced that Portugal must meet every one of the troika's demands diligently - "no matter how high the cost, and the cost is very high," as he is famed for telling his compatriots. It is paramount to prove that Portugal is not Greece, and that if something goes wrong, it will not be Portugal's fault, but external circumstances. Thus the pressing need to play the obedient student to the bitter end.

A few days ago, three school principals from Oporto sat down at the same table to discuss new instructions from the Education Ministry. "What they're telling us is that we have to save because the troika demands it," says Manuel Pereira, who is also president of the National Association of School Administrators. For starters, the number of teachers has been slashed by 10 percent.

"We have centers that are considered among the best in Europe - real luxury schools," he adds. "There was a time when each student was given a free laptop; maybe there were excesses. But now we have fewer teachers and more of a workload."

"When the crisis hits families, these turn to the schools. There are growing numbers of students who get breakfast at school because they can't afford it at home," says Pedro Araújo, principal of Felgueiras High School. This and other stories combine to conjure up the image of a slowly disintegrating state: ambulances sitting idle because there is no money to get them rolling; 21st-century schools with no teachers to operate them properly; and shiny new turnpikes that are nearly deserted for lack of drivers willing to pay the toll...

Meanwhile, VAT has gone up and so has the price of medicine. Going to the emergency room now costs 20 euros, twice as much as a few months ago, and a regular doctor's appointment is five euros. Labor reform makes firing cheaper and easier. Buses and subway lines run less frequently in Lisbon and Oporto, even though they are more expensive. And public transportation as a whole will soon undergo review by the troika, which will likely result in even more cuts.

And despite it all, the national economy seems trapped in a vicious circle: the ratings agencies downgrade Portugal because it will not be able to repay the loan; in order to repay the loan, Portugal enacts the troika's measures, which bring about a greater recession, which means no growth, which pushes the ratings agencies to downgrade Portugal yet again...

Paula Tomaz, a 56-year-old high-school language teacher in Belem, sums up the feeling of Portugal's middle classes when she explains that her life seems to be moving backward: fewer vacations, fewer restaurant meals and fewer gym classes for her son. "They say the problem is we lived beyond our means. But I didn't. I always paid back my debts; I bought everything I have with my own money, without loans, on my own salary [of around 1,800 euros]. I've been working for 30 years and I didn't deserve this. I don't feel cheated because I was never very trusting to begin with, but I do have a huge and growing feeling of injustice. Yet I want to remain hopeful. I need to believe that I am going to get back what I lost."