Just a quick note to wish everyone season's greetings. If I remember correctly, the mega bridge starting the season will be here soon and with it La Fira de Santa Llùcia (Lucia) located outside the Gothic Cathedral. One of my favorite Catalan traditions is the caganer. So much so he inspired a short story I wrote last year. You can read it here.
Enjoy the festivities and stay warm.
Showing posts with label traditions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label traditions. Show all posts
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Happy Sant Jordi
Surprisingly, it's not a public holiday, but if you're out and about it seems like it is based on the crowds strolling the streets and looking at the flower and book stands. And what is truly amazing is that it can rain the day before and it can rain the day after, but no one I know remembers it raining on Sant Jordi.
So if you're in town, make sure to take in the sights and sounds of one of the more special days here. If you're not, why not buy a rose or a book for a friend to celebrate anyway. Here is an interpretation of the legend behind the celebration. Enjoy.
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Golden Witch and the Town of Luck
The brainchild of an enterprising Spaniard, Xavier Gabriel, a lottery ticket vendor in this small rural town about three hours east of Barcelona has transformed itself into the number one place to buy tickets for el gordo (the fat one) the national lottery that takes place on December 22nd with enough pomp to rival the Eurovision final. The lottery itself is famous for going against the grain and spreading the prize money rather than give the whole lump sum to one person and the town of Sort is home to the most winning numbers in Spain. Perhaps, there is something to a name or maybe it's just that more people buying from one location immediately increases the probability or it might even be as Xavier Gabriel says, a golden witch from outer space who sprinkles lucky dust. Who knows. But if you want to partake, here's the link to the official page.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Book - My Christina & Other Stories
For anyone interested in Catalan literature a good place to start is with My Christina and Other Stories (The Graywolf Short Fiction Series)
A female writer who first came to prominence here during the first part of the twentieth century, she fled Barcelona following the civil war and settled in Geneva until the death of Franco.
The collection is a series of seventeen short stories written predominately in a monologue style that characterizes her work and ranges from slice of life tales to ones that are more surrealist in nature (a witch who turns into a salamander for example), with most containing a wry humor common in these parts. Unlike the more well-know Zafón, they don't so much describe what Barcelona was like aesthetically in those times, but they do provide a glimpse into the life here through rich characters and a keen sense of observation.
A female writer who first came to prominence here during the first part of the twentieth century, she fled Barcelona following the civil war and settled in Geneva until the death of Franco. The collection is a series of seventeen short stories written predominately in a monologue style that characterizes her work and ranges from slice of life tales to ones that are more surrealist in nature (a witch who turns into a salamander for example), with most containing a wry humor common in these parts. Unlike the more well-know Zafón, they don't so much describe what Barcelona was like aesthetically in those times, but they do provide a glimpse into the life here through rich characters and a keen sense of observation.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Dinner with the Neighbors
This picture is taken from my window and shows the little street I live on getting ready to have a neighborhood dinner. It was a great night and a reminder of the beauty that is the Spanish sense of community and family and their shared love of food.
The official reason was the local festival that ended yesterday. As you can see, the eating and meeting wasn't only just on my street, but on each and everyone both large and small.
While a common main dish was either a plate of paella or fideua, which is like paella but with noodles and a garlic mayonnaise.Friday, September 11, 2009
September 11th
For most people this date represents the recent past and conjures up images of planes flying into the World Trade Center and terrible memories of people dying. Here in Catalunya, it is the region's national day where they celebrate their defeat at the hands of the Spanish kings following the War of Spanish Succession in 1714.
If you're in Barcelona today, you can expect to see the red and yellow stripes of the Catalan flag hanging from balconies and rallies being held clamoring for independence. It's a touchy subject in Spain as the comments for an article I wrote for Expatica will show. And while I have my thoughts and opinions on it, I'm not really in the mood to discuss them today. But I'm sure I will soon.
If you're in Barcelona today, you can expect to see the red and yellow stripes of the Catalan flag hanging from balconies and rallies being held clamoring for independence. It's a touchy subject in Spain as the comments for an article I wrote for Expatica will show. And while I have my thoughts and opinions on it, I'm not really in the mood to discuss them today. But I'm sure I will soon.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Neighborhood Festivals - Poblenou
Ver mapa más grande
One of the joys of summer in Barcelona are the neighborhood festivals. Each barrio has one and they usually last a week with live music, food and local traditions.
The most popular and famous is in Gracia when the entire neighborhood is decorated with paper mache figurines and floats, making it feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland if it had been set in a city. More infamous and - let's say twisted - is la festa major of Poble Sec where you might catch a DJ dressed in his underwear or see a tranny on a piano showing off the latest surgery at night, while gigantic paper mache statues of people or human castles can been seen during the day. And, while both of these have come and gone - there's still on left for those of you who have just arrived in Barcelona - la festa major de Poblenou. (thx Linda for the link)
Starting on Sept 12h and running until the 20th, it offers a little bit of everything from games for kids to concerts featuring different styles from ska to Catalan Rumba while the final night ends literally with a bang thanks to fireworks at the beach. At the top of this post if a map, showing where it is for anyone interested in visiting. And if I have time, I'll translate the official page of events into English to give you some of the highlights.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Happy Saint John
Tomorrow is Sant Joan in Catalunya and San Juan in the rest of Spain. A national holiday it marks the start of the summer season and tonight the streets will be full of people partying and migrating to the beach in celebration. Along the way kids will be trowing firecrackers and impromtu bonfires will be blazing in intersentions, while groups of men and women will be running around with sparklers and setting fire to piles of wood. It's truly amazing the city doesn't burn down, but I guess that's what come from centuries of practice. If going out, I recommend wearing long sleeve shirts and pants with shoes and not flip-flops to avoid and stray sparks from leaving a nasty mark.
Monday, June 15, 2009
What should we call it?
Picking the name for your baby is one of the first big decisions for expecting parents. After all, what you call your child will play a key role in your progeny's personal development. One only needs to listen to the Johnny Cash song "A Boy Called Sue" to know that. And, while coming to an agreement is never easy, having parents from different countries who speak different languages presents new set of interesting complications.
For example in Spain, there's the tradition of naming your child after religious figures or situations. In fact kids here not only celebrate their birthday, but also the day of the saint or religious holiday that they're named after. So, other than the various Virgins who serve as inspiration for such girls' names as Macarena (yes, like the song) or Mercedes (like the car), there is also the option of: Concepción Inmaculada (the Immaculate Conception), Ascensión/Asunción (the ascension) and Dolores (pains as in the Friday of Pain), while boys' names often combine biblical personalities such as Jose Maria (Joseph Mary) or Juan Miguel (John Michael) or Juan Jose (John Joseph), which are in turn shortened and pronounced Josema (Hose-emma), Juanmi (Who-an-me), and Juanjo (Who-an-hoe) respectively. All of which is perfectly normal in a country where it's also not unusual to use the same name for your child that you and your father or mother have, but imagine if your kid spent any time in either the states or the U.K.
Of course, if you decide to give your offspring an English name, you can expect Spaniards to quickly find their equivalent, making it moot. In other words George becomes Jorge (Whore-hey), Josephine-Josefina (Hose-effeena) and James-Jaime (High-may) whether you like it or not. And if you elect a shortened version of a traditional name like say Joe, then you run the risk of Spanish kids calling him "Fuck" like in "Joé que calor" (fuck it's hot). Which isn't to say there aren't Spanish kids with English names like Jenifer, Jonatan, Kevin, the problem is that they carry with them the stereotype similar to being from the Valley in L.A. or Essex in the U.K. if you know what I mean.
Then, there's the whole question of pronunciation. Any English name with a "J" will give Spanish people fits because it doesn't exist so you can forget names like Jeffrey or Josh for a boy or Jane for a girl, while the English desire to combine vowel sounds make Spanish names like Mireia or Iago a nightmare for those relatives not from Spain.
So with seemingly eighty percent of Spanish and English names eliminated, you're left with a smaller pool to argue over with your partner. But be careful: because even when you finally decide on a name, you have to make sure that it passes with the Spanish bureaucracy who have been known to refuse Sam and Katie due to them being shortened versions of Samuel and Katherine, and thus not allowed.
For example in Spain, there's the tradition of naming your child after religious figures or situations. In fact kids here not only celebrate their birthday, but also the day of the saint or religious holiday that they're named after. So, other than the various Virgins who serve as inspiration for such girls' names as Macarena (yes, like the song) or Mercedes (like the car), there is also the option of: Concepción Inmaculada (the Immaculate Conception), Ascensión/Asunción (the ascension) and Dolores (pains as in the Friday of Pain), while boys' names often combine biblical personalities such as Jose Maria (Joseph Mary) or Juan Miguel (John Michael) or Juan Jose (John Joseph), which are in turn shortened and pronounced Josema (Hose-emma), Juanmi (Who-an-me), and Juanjo (Who-an-hoe) respectively. All of which is perfectly normal in a country where it's also not unusual to use the same name for your child that you and your father or mother have, but imagine if your kid spent any time in either the states or the U.K.
Of course, if you decide to give your offspring an English name, you can expect Spaniards to quickly find their equivalent, making it moot. In other words George becomes Jorge (Whore-hey), Josephine-Josefina (Hose-effeena) and James-Jaime (High-may) whether you like it or not. And if you elect a shortened version of a traditional name like say Joe, then you run the risk of Spanish kids calling him "Fuck" like in "Joé que calor" (fuck it's hot). Which isn't to say there aren't Spanish kids with English names like Jenifer, Jonatan, Kevin, the problem is that they carry with them the stereotype similar to being from the Valley in L.A. or Essex in the U.K. if you know what I mean.
Then, there's the whole question of pronunciation. Any English name with a "J" will give Spanish people fits because it doesn't exist so you can forget names like Jeffrey or Josh for a boy or Jane for a girl, while the English desire to combine vowel sounds make Spanish names like Mireia or Iago a nightmare for those relatives not from Spain.
So with seemingly eighty percent of Spanish and English names eliminated, you're left with a smaller pool to argue over with your partner. But be careful: because even when you finally decide on a name, you have to make sure that it passes with the Spanish bureaucracy who have been known to refuse Sam and Katie due to them being shortened versions of Samuel and Katherine, and thus not allowed.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Spanish Siestas
Ask someone to say one word when they think of Spain, and chances are it'll be "Siesta." In fact every time I go back to the states, friends and family always ask me if the Spanish really take a snooze for lunch, and the look of disappointment on their faces when I tell them - "No" - betrays how ingrained of a myth it is. The thought of escaping work for a quick shut-eye appeals to our romantic vision of Spain as a place where people take life at a more relaxing pace than they do in the states, and in many ways they do. But, the truth of the matter is: Spaniards work on average 14% more than the rest of Europe so they don't have time to nap; although, given their production is the lowest, the more hours doesn't mean they necessarily work well.
The siesta is far from dead, however. "The mentality of it" (as I heard a Spanish expert describe it once) is still very much alive and part of the country's psyche. Originally born as a way to escape the blistering afternoon sun, it is more now about finding the time during a busy week to rest, relax and recharge. It usually takes place on the weekends during the sobremesa (the time immediately after another Spanish tradition, a long, three-course weekend lunch) when all of your blood rushes to your stuffed belly and your head goes drowsy. Eying the couch, all the programs on the television are documentaries about the ocean or bad B-movies, and it's easy to drift to sleep as you lay down, settle in and close your heavy eyes.
It doesn't need to be a long nap. A shot of coffee with milk called a cortado before will ensure waking up thirty minutes later when the caffeine kicks in. But if it's been a particularly draining week, then just let your brain and body shut down and start back up when it's ready, whether it's one or two hours later. With all the shops and stores closed during the late afternoon - you're not missing anything, and by the time you wake up, you'll feel refreshed and energized and ready for the night. But even during the week, the siesta is never far from the Spaniards' thoughts, and it's not uncommon for a conversation to revolve around its benefits, while taking one of two thirty minute coffee breaks, showing that you don't need to sleep to apply the mentality behind it.
The siesta is far from dead, however. "The mentality of it" (as I heard a Spanish expert describe it once) is still very much alive and part of the country's psyche. Originally born as a way to escape the blistering afternoon sun, it is more now about finding the time during a busy week to rest, relax and recharge. It usually takes place on the weekends during the sobremesa (the time immediately after another Spanish tradition, a long, three-course weekend lunch) when all of your blood rushes to your stuffed belly and your head goes drowsy. Eying the couch, all the programs on the television are documentaries about the ocean or bad B-movies, and it's easy to drift to sleep as you lay down, settle in and close your heavy eyes.
It doesn't need to be a long nap. A shot of coffee with milk called a cortado before will ensure waking up thirty minutes later when the caffeine kicks in. But if it's been a particularly draining week, then just let your brain and body shut down and start back up when it's ready, whether it's one or two hours later. With all the shops and stores closed during the late afternoon - you're not missing anything, and by the time you wake up, you'll feel refreshed and energized and ready for the night. But even during the week, the siesta is never far from the Spaniards' thoughts, and it's not uncommon for a conversation to revolve around its benefits, while taking one of two thirty minute coffee breaks, showing that you don't need to sleep to apply the mentality behind it.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Holidays in Spain
No work today, but only in Barcelona, such is the holiday system in Spain. Basically, you have national days like Christmas, New Year's, the Spanish National Day (October 12th), May Day etc. Then you have regional ones that depend on the autonomy's history or a saint that is related to the region. An example of this is September 11th, which is the National Day of Catalunya and La Merce (also in September) who is the Virgin for the region Finally, you have municipal ones that are only applied to the city. For example today is la segunda pasqua (the second Easter). But if you job requires you to work outside the city in one of the many industrial parks, then you have to work today. Confusing isn't it?
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Spanish Facts and Trivia
If you ever find yourself walking around a city in Spain on a Thursday afternoon, take a look at the menus outside the restaurants, and chances are you'll find almost all of them offer a plate of paella for one of the dishes.
The predominate theory for this custom can be traced back to Franco's time. A fanatic of paella, Thursday was when he normally went out for lunch in Madrid. Never one to repeat a restaurant, he instead paid suprise visits to various establishments, meaning that they all had better have paella prepared, or else face one displeased dictator, and so the tradition was born.
For those of you with a culinary bent, here's one recipe for the dish translated from Spanish. It uses chicken, instead of the more traditional shrimp, mussels, clams, and squid, but it gives you an idea. Besides: the secret to a good paella is the rice.
The predominate theory for this custom can be traced back to Franco's time. A fanatic of paella, Thursday was when he normally went out for lunch in Madrid. Never one to repeat a restaurant, he instead paid suprise visits to various establishments, meaning that they all had better have paella prepared, or else face one displeased dictator, and so the tradition was born.
For those of you with a culinary bent, here's one recipe for the dish translated from Spanish. It uses chicken, instead of the more traditional shrimp, mussels, clams, and squid, but it gives you an idea. Besides: the secret to a good paella is the rice.
Ingredients:
- 600 grams of rice
1/2 chicken, diced2 artichokes
2 medium size red peppers
2 ripe tomatoes
Crushed pepper
One garlic clove
Parsley
1 herb of saffron
Olive Oil (one glass, 1/4 liter)
1/2 lemon
A sprig of rosemary and thyme
Salt
1: Fry the chicken in the olive oil. Once fried, boil with 8 glasses of water.
2: Saute the artichokes and peppers together. Once done, saute the garlic separately.
3: The garlic now sauteed add the rice and mix the two together, stirring occasionally and adding the diced tomatoes
4: Before finishing sauteing the rice, tomatoes and garlic,add them to the boiling the chicken, (it should be boiling for 30 min prior). Squeeze in the lemon and add the artichokes and red peppers, with a pinch of pepper in addition to the parsley, rosemary, saffron, thyme and salt.
5: With the food now ready, place a large pan on the stove and add the ingredients. At first use a high flame, lowering it after about ten minutes. The total time for the rise should be around 20 mins (plus five more to set.)
It's now ready to serve.
Let me know how it turns out.
Monday, May 11, 2009
A Sunday Stroll
One of the beauties of Barcelona is the ability to walk out your door (day or night) and enter a world of surprises and strange sights that make you pause and wonder. Yesterday, just so happened to be one of those days.
Stepping outside to a partly sunny afternoon, my ears perked at the sounds of brass and wind instruments floating in the breeze, and it didn't take me long to find out that they belonged to a band playing the music for the traditional Catalan dance called Sardana. Taking a moment to watch, I was struck how different seniors are in Spain compared to the states. Here, they are dancing and laughing, while most I know back home rarely leave the house, and seem to be counting down the days. It's really quite sad when you think about it.
Further up the street, I again found myself stopping and taking a moment. This time it was a wooden door topped by a screaming griffin that caught my attention. Not as ornamental as those in Eixample, it hinted at something more mysterious, like an occult bookstore that housed spells. Of course, in reality it was an apartment building with normal residents, but the subject matter did make me wonder what the original architect had in mind, or what he took to decide on that design.
My thoughts didn't linger long on the door, this image had me getting the camera out to snap a the following picture:
A couple on a scooter with their small dog is just so Barcelona. The only thing missing is a cigarette hanging from their mouths.
Stepping outside to a partly sunny afternoon, my ears perked at the sounds of brass and wind instruments floating in the breeze, and it didn't take me long to find out that they belonged to a band playing the music for the traditional Catalan dance called Sardana. Taking a moment to watch, I was struck how different seniors are in Spain compared to the states. Here, they are dancing and laughing, while most I know back home rarely leave the house, and seem to be counting down the days. It's really quite sad when you think about it.
Further up the street, I again found myself stopping and taking a moment. This time it was a wooden door topped by a screaming griffin that caught my attention. Not as ornamental as those in Eixample, it hinted at something more mysterious, like an occult bookstore that housed spells. Of course, in reality it was an apartment building with normal residents, but the subject matter did make me wonder what the original architect had in mind, or what he took to decide on that design.
My thoughts didn't linger long on the door, this image had me getting the camera out to snap a the following picture:
A couple on a scooter with their small dog is just so Barcelona. The only thing missing is a cigarette hanging from their mouths.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
A Brief History of Catalunya
I have to admit: Before I moved to Spain, I had no idea what a Catalan was, or that there was such a place called Catalunya. I thought Barcelona was in Spain, and Spain was a country of - Well, I'm American - I didn't know what it was made up of, but I thought everyone who lived here was Español, and I never imagined it not being a unified nation. How wrong was I. I'd be interested in hearing if it's the same in Bilbao, Sevilla and Madrid, but at least living in Barcelona, I quickly learned that Catalunya was not Spain, but in fact it's own country, with its own language and culture, and that a small percentage here wouldn't mind returning to their independent status of yesteryear, because quiet frankly, many of the population don't care for the Spanish or Castellanos and the decisions made in Madrid.
Ignorant about its history and eager to learn more about my adopted land, I discovered through Wikipedia and conversations with my widowed neighbor Teresa that Catalunya was part of the Crown of Aragon, and it gained it's formal independence from France in 1258 with the Treaty of Corbeil; thus beginning the reign of Jaume (James) 1 and the expansion of the Kingdom of Aragon to include Valencia, Corsica and Sicily, and the promotion of Catalan language and culture throughout the territories. A series of kings and queens followed, stemming from marriages among European princes and princesses, and then King Martin 1 died in 1410 with no heirs, resulting in King Fernando I of Castillo receiving the crown after the Compromise of Caspe. Nearly sixty years later, the great Spanish empire was born after the marriage of Fernando II of Aragon and Isabel I of Castillo in 1469.
The presence of Castilian troops on Barcelona's streets two-hundred years later saw the Revolt of the Reapers in 1640. Local peasants (tired of housing the Spanish soldiers who fought against France during the Thirty Years War, and seeing their resources used for a war waged from Madrid) rebelled on Corpus Christi Day, chanting: "Long live the faith of Christ!", "Long live the king of Spain, our lord", "Long live the land, death to bad government." This led to the leader of the Generalitat Pau Claris declaring a Catalan Republic, and ended when his death created a power vacuum, resulting in the Treaty of the Pyrenees in 1659 and the loss of Northern Catalunya to France, with Southern Catalunya again under Spanish rule.
The death of Charles II of Spain in 1700 and the lack of a heir began the Spanish War of Succession with two European camps claiming the crown: The French Bourbons and the Austrian Hapsburgs. Sensing a chance for greater freedom from the centralized government of Madrid, the Catalans backed the Austrian contender for the throne; only to lose their special status as autonomous territories following the Fall of Barcelona on September 11 1714. Catalunya was once again a province of the Spanish Kingdom with Madrid as its capital; this time ruled by Philip V, grandson of Lois XIV of France.
The next two-hundred years witnessed Catalunya's rise as a major economic center of Spain and an industrial hub with the freedom to speak their language and celebrate their traditions dependent on the whims of whichever king sat on the throne in Madrid; and so it continued as the Great Spanish Empire slowly fell apart through a series of wars that resulted in loss of most of its territories, a period of Napoleonic rule, the return of the Bourbon king, and finally in the Second Spanish Republic that granted autonomy to Catalunya, along with the Basque Country and Galicia at the start of the twentieth century.
In 1931, Spain once again found itself a proxy for greater European powers with the Nationalist Forces of General Franco backed by the Germans and Italians and the mishmash of opposition forces consisting of Anarchists, Communists, and Republicans supported by Russia and Mexico; with Britain, France and the United States sitting it out. A three year bitter and brutal civil war ensued with brother killing brother, Catalan slaughtering Catalan, and son turning on father; and by the end, Barcelona found itself once again subjugated to the rule of Madrid with their language banned from all public institutions and mass media. It was during this time and based on a history of local princes controlled by European kings that Catalan Nationalism came to be with some of its leaders tortured under the dictatorship.
Today, nearly thirty-five years after the death of Franco, Catalunya is one of the 17 autonomous regions that comprise Spain, with its language taught in all schools and used throughout the local government and in many businesses. Yet, still the battles of the previous five hundred years are being fought; although, not through guns, but in political debates about how much control should be ceded to Madrid and in the constant promotion of the Catalan language at the expense of all others.
Ignorant about its history and eager to learn more about my adopted land, I discovered through Wikipedia and conversations with my widowed neighbor Teresa that Catalunya was part of the Crown of Aragon, and it gained it's formal independence from France in 1258 with the Treaty of Corbeil; thus beginning the reign of Jaume (James) 1 and the expansion of the Kingdom of Aragon to include Valencia, Corsica and Sicily, and the promotion of Catalan language and culture throughout the territories. A series of kings and queens followed, stemming from marriages among European princes and princesses, and then King Martin 1 died in 1410 with no heirs, resulting in King Fernando I of Castillo receiving the crown after the Compromise of Caspe. Nearly sixty years later, the great Spanish empire was born after the marriage of Fernando II of Aragon and Isabel I of Castillo in 1469.
The presence of Castilian troops on Barcelona's streets two-hundred years later saw the Revolt of the Reapers in 1640. Local peasants (tired of housing the Spanish soldiers who fought against France during the Thirty Years War, and seeing their resources used for a war waged from Madrid) rebelled on Corpus Christi Day, chanting: "Long live the faith of Christ!", "Long live the king of Spain, our lord", "Long live the land, death to bad government." This led to the leader of the Generalitat Pau Claris declaring a Catalan Republic, and ended when his death created a power vacuum, resulting in the Treaty of the Pyrenees in 1659 and the loss of Northern Catalunya to France, with Southern Catalunya again under Spanish rule.
The death of Charles II of Spain in 1700 and the lack of a heir began the Spanish War of Succession with two European camps claiming the crown: The French Bourbons and the Austrian Hapsburgs. Sensing a chance for greater freedom from the centralized government of Madrid, the Catalans backed the Austrian contender for the throne; only to lose their special status as autonomous territories following the Fall of Barcelona on September 11 1714. Catalunya was once again a province of the Spanish Kingdom with Madrid as its capital; this time ruled by Philip V, grandson of Lois XIV of France.
The next two-hundred years witnessed Catalunya's rise as a major economic center of Spain and an industrial hub with the freedom to speak their language and celebrate their traditions dependent on the whims of whichever king sat on the throne in Madrid; and so it continued as the Great Spanish Empire slowly fell apart through a series of wars that resulted in loss of most of its territories, a period of Napoleonic rule, the return of the Bourbon king, and finally in the Second Spanish Republic that granted autonomy to Catalunya, along with the Basque Country and Galicia at the start of the twentieth century.
In 1931, Spain once again found itself a proxy for greater European powers with the Nationalist Forces of General Franco backed by the Germans and Italians and the mishmash of opposition forces consisting of Anarchists, Communists, and Republicans supported by Russia and Mexico; with Britain, France and the United States sitting it out. A three year bitter and brutal civil war ensued with brother killing brother, Catalan slaughtering Catalan, and son turning on father; and by the end, Barcelona found itself once again subjugated to the rule of Madrid with their language banned from all public institutions and mass media. It was during this time and based on a history of local princes controlled by European kings that Catalan Nationalism came to be with some of its leaders tortured under the dictatorship.
Today, nearly thirty-five years after the death of Franco, Catalunya is one of the 17 autonomous regions that comprise Spain, with its language taught in all schools and used throughout the local government and in many businesses. Yet, still the battles of the previous five hundred years are being fought; although, not through guns, but in political debates about how much control should be ceded to Madrid and in the constant promotion of the Catalan language at the expense of all others.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
La Máquina de Pasapalabra
For over a month, the machine-like ability of José Manuel Lúcia to win Spain's most popular game-show called Pasapalabra (Pass the word) has captivated Spanish audiences and provided a much needed distraction to the constant bad news of the economic crisis and now the Swine Flu.
Based on The Alphabet Game and hosted by Spain's equivalent of Ryan Seacrest (Christian Galvez), two contestants are joined by local celebrities to form two teams of three, who must then match wits against each other through a series of word puzzles and tests in order to earn seconds for the grand finale called: El Rosco - at which time - with the letters of the alphabet encircling their faces on the TV screen, and starting with A and ending with Z; they must guess the word that starts with, or in some cases contains, the specified letter based on a quickly spoken clue as the seconds tick down. And, if they don't know the word, the say: pasapalabra, and move on to the next letter of the circle, until they come back around to it again, time permitting. It is by no means easy.
For 36 straight shows, José Manuel Lúcia from Asturias won the competition, but when it came to El Rosco, he'd fall painfully one or two letters short of completing the alphabet. Sometimes, he'd run off ten letters in a row only to trip up on the eleventh; other times, it was a word he simply did not know. The look of degection on his opponents' faces was a story in-and-of itself, as some of them would've been champion had they not run into the Asturian phenomenon. Then, finally, at the end of his 37th appearance, he did it. And, not only did he do it, but he went from A to Y without missing a beat, before passing la palabra and sighing. His shocked competition got to C and passed. He closed it out with time to spare, bringing his magnificient and record earning 396,000-euro run to an end, and an explosion of congratulations from throughout Spain at a truly remarkable accomplishment.
Based on The Alphabet Game and hosted by Spain's equivalent of Ryan Seacrest (Christian Galvez), two contestants are joined by local celebrities to form two teams of three, who must then match wits against each other through a series of word puzzles and tests in order to earn seconds for the grand finale called: El Rosco - at which time - with the letters of the alphabet encircling their faces on the TV screen, and starting with A and ending with Z; they must guess the word that starts with, or in some cases contains, the specified letter based on a quickly spoken clue as the seconds tick down. And, if they don't know the word, the say: pasapalabra, and move on to the next letter of the circle, until they come back around to it again, time permitting. It is by no means easy.
For 36 straight shows, José Manuel Lúcia from Asturias won the competition, but when it came to El Rosco, he'd fall painfully one or two letters short of completing the alphabet. Sometimes, he'd run off ten letters in a row only to trip up on the eleventh; other times, it was a word he simply did not know. The look of degection on his opponents' faces was a story in-and-of itself, as some of them would've been champion had they not run into the Asturian phenomenon. Then, finally, at the end of his 37th appearance, he did it. And, not only did he do it, but he went from A to Y without missing a beat, before passing la palabra and sighing. His shocked competition got to C and passed. He closed it out with time to spare, bringing his magnificient and record earning 396,000-euro run to an end, and an explosion of congratulations from throughout Spain at a truly remarkable accomplishment.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Sant Jordi
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
You Know You've Lived in Spain When...
1) When asked do do something, your first answer is - mañana
2) Coming home at three in the morning is early, six the norm - even at age forty, or fifty.
3) You aren't just surprised that the plumber/decorator/electrician/carpenter has turned up on time, you're surprised he turned up at all.
4) You know a fifty year old man whose mother still does his laundry, and another who still picks his nose.
5) You think it's fine to comment on everyone's appearance.
6) Life is broken down into possible and impossible.
7) You plan your weekends around the siesta.
8) All your answers are prefaced with - Yes, but...
9) You know the time after lunch has its own word - sobremesa.
10) You no longer wait for the waiter to clean the table before sitting down.
11) The imperative is used to ask for things, and please and thank said sparingly.
12) Nothing is ever your fault anymore.
14) There's a neighbor who likes drilling and hammering, but only between eight and ten on a Saturday morning.
15) You're known as the guiri.
16) Every sentence you speak, even in your native language, contains at least one of these words: 'bueno,' 'coño,' 'vale,' 'venga,' 'pues nada'...
17) The question "How are you?" is a chance to complain about your day.
18) A beer or two with lunch during the week isn't anything out of the ordinary.
19) Free time is more important than money.
20) You eat lunch after 2pm and would never even think of having your evening meal before 9.
21) Breakfast is a coffee and a small sandwich or a croissant.
22) You know what a Catalan is...
Thanks to Izzie for the idea
2) Coming home at three in the morning is early, six the norm - even at age forty, or fifty.
3) You aren't just surprised that the plumber/decorator/electrician/carpenter has turned up on time, you're surprised he turned up at all.
4) You know a fifty year old man whose mother still does his laundry, and another who still picks his nose.
5) You think it's fine to comment on everyone's appearance.
6) Life is broken down into possible and impossible.
7) You plan your weekends around the siesta.
8) All your answers are prefaced with - Yes, but...
9) You know the time after lunch has its own word - sobremesa.
10) You no longer wait for the waiter to clean the table before sitting down.
11) The imperative is used to ask for things, and please and thank said sparingly.
12) Nothing is ever your fault anymore.
14) There's a neighbor who likes drilling and hammering, but only between eight and ten on a Saturday morning.
15) You're known as the guiri.
16) Every sentence you speak, even in your native language, contains at least one of these words: 'bueno,' 'coño,' 'vale,' 'venga,' 'pues nada'...
17) The question "How are you?" is a chance to complain about your day.
18) A beer or two with lunch during the week isn't anything out of the ordinary.
19) Free time is more important than money.
20) You eat lunch after 2pm and would never even think of having your evening meal before 9.
21) Breakfast is a coffee and a small sandwich or a croissant.
22) You know what a Catalan is...
Thanks to Izzie for the idea
Friday, April 10, 2009
Spanish Funerals
I had my first Spanish funeral this week. It wasn't anyone close. I had actually never met the woman who passed away from old age. My attendance necessitated by my relationship with the deceased's niece, I went to see how the Spanish approach death. Macabre, I know. But I've, unfortunately, attended my fair share of funerals, and watching how people mourn now intrigues me.
The best funeral, if there is such a thing, was my grandfather's. He said: "Cremate me and throw a party," which we did at my aunt's. Relatives, both long-lost and close-to-home, came to celebrate his life and offer support to my grandmother. It must be the Irish blood because in my family we like to drink and tell stories about the dead. That was the only one like that - the others usually began with a few days of waiting for people to gather for the viewing; followed by a religious service, a few words of admiration from certain relatives about the deceased, the burial, and then a meeting at someone's house after to drink and remember. When I tell this to my Spanish friends and relatives they look at me aghast and disgusted.
Here: the deceased is to be in the ground within three days of passing. To honor their memory, a solomn meeting is held the day before the funeral. Everyone clad in black, there are no stories, only weeping, and the loss of the person is told by the number of tears streaming down the cheeks. The next day a mass takes place with a few verses read by a priest as the body is laid to rest inside the stone cemetery walls located far away from the city, and then every one returns to their seperate homes. For the Spanish, there is nothing to celebrate, only saddness, and its best to get it over and done with.
The best funeral, if there is such a thing, was my grandfather's. He said: "Cremate me and throw a party," which we did at my aunt's. Relatives, both long-lost and close-to-home, came to celebrate his life and offer support to my grandmother. It must be the Irish blood because in my family we like to drink and tell stories about the dead. That was the only one like that - the others usually began with a few days of waiting for people to gather for the viewing; followed by a religious service, a few words of admiration from certain relatives about the deceased, the burial, and then a meeting at someone's house after to drink and remember. When I tell this to my Spanish friends and relatives they look at me aghast and disgusted.
Here: the deceased is to be in the ground within three days of passing. To honor their memory, a solomn meeting is held the day before the funeral. Everyone clad in black, there are no stories, only weeping, and the loss of the person is told by the number of tears streaming down the cheeks. The next day a mass takes place with a few verses read by a priest as the body is laid to rest inside the stone cemetery walls located far away from the city, and then every one returns to their seperate homes. For the Spanish, there is nothing to celebrate, only saddness, and its best to get it over and done with.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Spanish Irony
In Spanish there's irónico, which doesn't mean ironic in English, but more like sarcastic, even if the dictionary tells you otherwise. The Spanish have no sense of irony as we think of it. How can I say this so confidently? How else can you explain putting the Arc de Triomf at the end of Carrer Trafalgar?
Ver mapa más grande
Ver mapa más grande
Friday, April 3, 2009
Friday of Pain
Viernes de Dolores marks the start of Semana Santa, or Holy Week, here in Spain. A deeply rooted tradition that dates back centuries, it commemorates the suffering of the Virgin Mary as her son is led to his crucifixion. Unfortunately, Barcelona celebrates this time less than any other region with a single procession on Good Friday. I'm not sure why.
However, if you're in Andalucia and especially in Sevilla, you're in for a real spectacle. And no - the marchers aren't from the Klu Klux Klan.
However, if you're in Andalucia and especially in Sevilla, you're in for a real spectacle. And no - the marchers aren't from the Klu Klux Klan.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)