Swedish Archaeology Finds in Extremadura

Writing in the local paper. Local issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here's my version, then theirs.

Bright ideas for bright places

One of the things that foreign friends visiting Spain for the first time never fail to comment on is their surprise at how late Spanish kids stay out playing in the parks during the summer. I usually keep quiet and wait until the next day and let them discover for themselves one of the main reasons for these midnight’s children. 

After exploring the often deserted old town and surrounding area, we usually venture out into the haphazard new town in search of life. It’s out here in the neighbourhoods of the city that my visitors stumble across their first epiphany. There under the fierce midday sun lies the tired, bleached Swedish plastic that kept the children occupied last night while their parents sat drinking sweaty cañas at tables at a nearby terrace in search of that rare cooling summer breeze. The only shade to be seen is thrown by the swings hanging like the stripped bones of a dead camel sticking out of a cement sand dune. Useless to anyone for long stretches of the day, unless of course you’re looking to avoid the constant electricity hikes and wanted to fry some eggs on the glistening slide. 

Though it may not feel like it now, we all know that winter passes quickly in this part of the world and when the heat finally comes, it comes to stay. The recently announced upgrade of the Parque de la Concepcion has given me hope that we will no longer have to venture so far out of the old centre of the city in search of the sounds of children’s laughter. 

If the town hall's intention is to draw people towards the centre, I’ve always wondered why parks like the one in San Juan are solely meant for less than civic dog owners. La Conce, as it's called, needed a change and it can provide strolling families a shady alternative to the sloping sun-baked Plaza Mayor and it’s attached litter box. Now it remains to be seen if some actual thought has gone into the planning or if it is going to be just another archaeological find withering under the summer sun.

Hiking in the Sierra Grande de Hornachos

You've really gone off the beaten path when the GPS in your rental car shows you are literally off the map. You're out here castle hopping your way north from Andalusia just as the Moors did a thousand years ago. A beautiful mountain range rises out of a carpet of vineyards. Set in the Sierra Grande de Hornachos, this ideal spot has attracted humans since cave painting was the "in" thing. You'll catch sight of  an eagle in this protected area as your hike through the lavender-scented trails leads you up to a beautifully ruined Arab castle, reminding you to not always listen to your GPS.

#hiking #history #wine #birding #mountains #vineyards #castle #muslim #castles #offthebeatenpath #offthegrid #moors #birdwatching #freelance #moorisharchitecture #sierra #alandalus #muslimspain

WOMAD, Caceres

Arabic ouds, Senegalese drums, and Mongolian fiddles bounce off 10th-century walls and reverberate onto 15th-century churches but have no fear, this is no military invasion. Spanish grannies rub shoulders and trade dance steps to the bouncing beat with dreadlocked Dutchmen, while pierced locals teach newfound Polish friends that it's not a sin to mix wine and coke. This is WOMAD, a festival that's been pulsing within the old city walls for nearly 20 years. Every second weekend in May, four days of free concerts by musicians from all over the globe are set in a fairy -tale setting, where the only rules are tolerance and, of course, pick up after yourself on your way home (though that last one often gets forgotten in the fun).

#music #architecture #festival #party #concerts #dance #historic #dancing #getaway #musicfestival #livemusic #unescoworldheritagesite #drumming #unesco #free #diverse #old #diversity #oldcity #global #15thcentury #worldmusic #10thcentury # #fest #womad #worldofmusic #artsanddance

Originally published in Trazzler

New Year's Revolutions

Writing in the local paper. Local issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here's my version, then theirs.

It’s hard to tell which Americanisms will get adopted in foreign lands and I suppose it’s even more difficult to predict just how these foreign trends will morph as they become fixed in the host culture. Unfortunately, these days it seems that my old neighbor to the south is exporting less Thomas Jefferson and more baggy pants and Miley Cirus. Even things that don’t necessarily originate in the good 'ol US of A often get rebranded in Hollywood and are exported via the latest blockbuster. A perfect example is Santa. The popular myth that Coca Cola turned the monk from Turkey red still holds fast with many but the influence the Americans have had on the figure the Dutch call Sinterklaas can’t be denied. Spanish cabalgatas de reyes (xmas parades) are far from being under threat but the fat man’s presence here in Spain grows every year. I’m always amazed at how easily Santa and the semi-autochthonous Reyes Magos coexist together in the minds of the great majority of Spanish children, but I suppose when you are getting presents from two sources, why ask questions? One holiday tradition that is particularly popular in the Anglo-Saxon world and that hasn’t really taken root here in Spain is the insistence on making New Year’s resolutions every year and then shouting them out to everyone who will listen. I guess I have seen some of the Spanish press taking AP lines and adapting them to the local market but they never really venture deeper than quitting smoking and improving your English. Reflection, while seemingly unpopular amongst the political class here, isn’t a bad thing and at times it can help when trying gain a clearer perspective on things to come...when bread and circuses no longer cut it. A new year lay ahead of us after more than half a decade of very hard times. There’s talk of brotes verdes (green shoots) but on the streets where I live and work, I only see the rain that continues to fall in Extremdura. It’s time to ask questions, and not about the provenance of Balthazar and crew nor whether Saint Nicolas is a CIA plot. Tough questions that uncover answers to why we’ve fallen so far need to be asked and a little more investigation into the who. Here’s to hoping the new year brings to Spain a little more Greenwald and Woodward and a little less American Idol.