Last Names or Names Last?
The Spanish practice of ordering surnames, the father’s first, the mother’s second, has been challenged by the Government, which claims it not only goes against the Law of Equality, but is also *gasp* unconstitutional.
All well and fine, but at least the system works, despite the touch of sexism, which favours the man (although, to be fair, the names themselves are sexless as a woman as well as a man can be called, say, González). For the moment, confusion and dissent reign. Possible options include a) doing it alphabetically, b) letting the parents hash it out, and c) the child, once of age, can re-order his/her given names as he/she sees fit.
This can only give rise to chaos and another kind of favouritism. So your name is Zappa, and in being attended to alphabetically, well, you’re the last in line. Which means that names nearer the beginning of the alphabet will come to predominate. Many more Aguileras than Zapateros (may I call this new inequality Letterism and they who favour it Letterists? I can hear it now: You Letterist pig!).
If the parents are left to decide, what if they have five children and give two kids the surname Domingo Pavaroti and the other three Pavaroti Domingo. Bureaucratically speaking, brothers and sisters, not to mention other relatives, will likely lose each other.
And finally, let the child decide. The Guardia Civil stops who they think is Paco Pimiento Zanahoria, only to be told by Paco that no, he changed his name to Paco Zanahoria Pimiento de la Huerta. The moral of this story is that, as some critics hold, we have more important things to deal with right now than some misperceived idea of equality. There is enough confusion in Spain already without the Government adding more to it.
Spelign in The 21st Century
(DI) Language naturally evolves over time, and for us English-speaking folk, it’s we, the speakers, who change it. We have no language academy to bow down to, but Spanish-speaking countries do, (Spain has the Academia Real del Español), and these august body are preparing new changes to ‘modernize’ Spanish.
Some of these changes seem fair enough, for example, the plan to eliminate ‘CH’ and ‘LL’ as letters in the alphabet (bringing it down from 29 to 27, the Ñ being the extra letter); after all, it’s an easy rule to understand that when C precedes H the sound changes, and ditto for double-L.
But other changes aren’t so clear in their effectiveness. For example, the letter ‘Y,’ called ‘la I griega’ (Greek I), will henceforth be known as “YE.” There’s no point to such a change. Everybody knows ‘I’ is ‘I’ and ‘I griega’ is ‘I griega.’
Another silly change, the letter W, once known as “Uve Doble” (or Double V) is now to be called the “Doble Uve.” Wow, you’ve really helped Spanish out with those earth-shaking improvements.
Other changes involve the elimination of accents in certain words, how you write the plural of CD and DVD (this change will certainly bring world peace), and a significantly reduced use of Q.
The good news is that none of this will much affect everyday language; written material in the official world will be the most affected. And seeing how Spanish, just like English (and no doubt many other languages), has been ‘corrupted’ by Internet & SMS-speak (ROFL!), I rather suspect that not many know the difference between the correct and not. Regardless of these changes, Spanish, in my opinion, continues to be a much easier language to learn than English.
Big Pig Wine
(DI) “We can’t give you a loan without a guarantor, as wine isn’t something we can embargo.” This was the main reason banks refused to help oenologist Gonzalo Gonzalo in his quest to finance a new line of wines (This is one chap with no headaches over surname order – Ed). And so, after turning to friends for support, they changed the proposed name of the wine from Le Punk to Gran Cerdo (Big Pig), in honour of the swinish bankers.
The bottle’s label – which would normally bear a prosaic contents description like: with a delicate aroma of strawberry followed by a dash of cinnamon – will instead reads as follows:
“Big Pig is a grand wine dedicated to the bank directors who refused our requests for a loan as they claimed wine could not be embargoed. Corpulent, sudiferous, suit-wearing persons, some day you will discover that the most important things in life cannot be embargoed. Thanks to friends, we were finally able to produce our wine. Now you can enjoy our most-acidic creature….”
Reminds me of the wine called, Fat Bastard, which I used to drink.
To Be or To Earn Less
(DI) Recent studies conclude that Spain is third from last in polyglottism, with Portugal and Hungary below, meaning, Spaniards aren’t keen on any other language but their own.
But the modern, business world, increasingly a borderless place, requires – if not demands – greater facility in other languages, and the same studies also indicate that those who speak English tend to earn up to 15 per cent more. English enjoys global hegemony over, say, French or German, and whether that’s fair or not is beside the point: with English one’s potential soars.
Still, these studies apart, native English speakers are even more reluctant to learn other languages. It’s as if there’s no cultural imperative for it as in other cultures, and this has nothing to do with modern-day business dealings, as the English were famous as far back as the 18th Century for linguistic ignorance. All I can say is that in learning just one new language, one’s experience of the world is, among other things, broadened.
The Oldest Talkie
Until recently, the 1927 film, The Jazz Singer was considered to be the first motion picture with sound, so it was with much surprise when Augustín Tena discovered a Spanish talkie in the American Library of Congress which dated to 1923, four whopping years before The Jazz Singer’s debute.
Although, at 11 minutes long, it’s not an epic blockbuster, it does feature Concha Piquer singing and dancing, she even managing to slip in some Portuguese. The film was already known but had been misdated.
The Spanish have a saying: viaja más que el Baúl de Piquer, meaning, something gets around more that Ms Piquer’s travelling trunk, as she was constantly touring abroad – Ed.
The Sands of Lies
The Western Sahara, since Spain pulled out of there in 1975, as they had more important things to attend to – like turning a dictatorship into a democracy (a feat they still haven’t quite pulled off, and as Martin would say, bless them), has ever since been perched on the cliff-edge of status.
Neither The Hague nor the UN recognizes Moroccan sovereignty over it, nor do they agree that Spain legally handed effective control over the disputed area to the Magreb. This, for the poor citizens of the sands, has left them in limbo and at the mercy of the Moroccan authorities, who recently launched a combined police-army raid on an encampment that, despite confused reports, certainly killed, injured people and cause some to ‘disappear.’
As freedom of the press is priceless in Morocco, no journalists have been allowed in, the Spanish press being singled out as “racists and manipulators.” So while, de jure, the Western Sahara is still under Spanish sovereignty, the de facto rulers live in Rabat. And seeing how Spain is desperate to maintain good relations with its neighbour, Madrid weighs its words carefully, which is why they haven’t condemned this attack. What’s the price of some dumb people’s lives compared to a good fishing treaty?
Full of Brown Stuff
Yes, that’s what I’m told every time I tell people what I’m about to tell you, but I’ll risk it anyway because it’s true. In Catalonia there exists an old tradition which juxtaposes the sacred with the profane, and as you wander about the stands by the old cathedral in Barcelona around Xmas time, looking for some gifts or decorations, you can’t help but see a lot of religious stuff, endless manger scenes from Bethlehem, for example, with the baby Jesus being looked upon by the Virgin Mary and the cuckold Joseph, the adoring Wise Men, the donkey, the cow, the sheep and chickens and… Hell, there’s a guy crapping in there! I kid you not.
The guy crouched down and squeezing one out is called a caganer (literally, a defecating person), and he, with his little pile of poo, has been present in Catalonian Manger scenes for over two centuries. The first caganers were created to look like typical Catalan peasants with their distinctive red caps, and their (ahem) addition to the Holy Stable was believed to fertilize the fields to produce excellent craps… uh, I mean crops.
Over time, the custom turned into more a curiosity, with which the Catalans have always felt comfortable, however gross or weird it may seem to outsiders. And in modern times, the Caganer can be anyone, which is why this Xmas they are making the Spanish National Football team into caganers, along with Spongebob Squarepants.
The artist Joan Miró used caganers in some of his paintings, and you can even see some life-sized examples in certain museums. To accompany this bit of faecal news, I will add that another Catalan Xmas custom is to take a hollowed-out trunk of wood, fill it with presents and sweets, and on Xmas Eve the kids take turns whacking the trunk and yelling “Shit, uncle, shit!” in the hopes of dislodging an Xmas prezzie from Cagatio (Uncle er, Poo). Don’t believe any of this? Google it.
GAL
You can be forgiven if you thought that death squads might have existed under Franco (they did), but what about under the Socialist Party that ruled from 1981 to 1996? 1988 saw the first uncovering of GAL (Anti-terrorist Liberation Groups), which had been active in the mid-80’s.
Their primary targets were ETA-members (the Basque terrorists) and their collaborators, many of whom were hiding in France. One of the motives behind GAL was to ‘encourage’ more French help, as the French Government at the time was reluctant to get involved with its Spanish counterparts in the fight against ETA.
Although GAL had some ‘success,’ it was mainly wrought with failure and cock-ups and the usual extensive attempts at covering it up. They managed 23 murders, some kidnapping and torture, and some dubious financial manoeuvres. However, many of their victims had no connection to ETA at all.
Fast-forward to 1993 and famous judge, Baltasar Garzón, re-opens one of the cases, which finally led in 1996 to the Ministry of the Interior falling, a first in modern European history: state-sponsored terrorism convicted. It was a major scandal, you might say a Spanish Watergate, as it was never proved that Felipe González, the then president, was somehow involved, or if he even knew about what Government funds were paying for.
Well recently, certain of his remarks in an interview with El País newspaper have sparked off a furore, re-opening old political wounds. His main phrase was thus: “I had a chance to blow up the ETA leadership back in the 90’s in a secret meeting in France, and didn’t do it. I still wonder if I did the right thing.”
His remark has been interpreted all ways. He’s been called a coward for not killing them; anti-democratic as no president in a democracy ought to even consider such actions; and guilty, in that the remark clearly reveals his knowledge and consent of GAL.
Concerning that last, an accusation has been cast by the PP and they stretched their interpretation of González’s statement rather too much, I’d say. But enough proof was presented back in the day to convict many in the upper political echelon, including ex-Minister of the Interior, José Barrionuevo, once the boss of Spain’s current Minister of the Interior and second Vice-President, Alfredo Pérez Rubalcaba.
Sr. Rubalcaba to this day denies any Government involvement in GAL. Rubalcaba is now the PSOE’s strongman and probable future presidential candidate. He currently is drawing as much fire as the PP can muster but, as he’s a solid yet slippery figure, he has so far managed to dodge the bullets – unlike many of the innocent victims that were in the wrong bar at the wrong time when the government-bought machine guns opened fire.
GAL was an utterly ugly episode in Spanish politics, and still influences the current political battlefield in which the object is not to improve a country’s fortunes but to fling as much mud at the other party as possible. Spain deserves much better than the pond scum that figure in both the PSOE and PP.