Nothing To Envy

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, which can now be seen online as well.

Filling Potholes with Empty Promises

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, which can now be seen online as well. 

We had just crossed the street when my youngest daughter looked up at me and said, “Daddy, why is the whole city being fixed? Was it so broken before?” I smiled to myself as I fondly thought back to the fact that she would have just been learning to walk the last time the election repair cycle had taken place. At five years of age, she had just had stumbled upon her first political insight. A realization that, long before the smiling yet anodyne faces of candidates adorn the lampposts and the official political campaigns begin, roads begin to get torn up in a clumsy attempt to remind the electorate that those in charge are in fact getting things done. A political maneuver that is definitely not case specific to Caceres, nor even Spain. I’ve seen this crude sleight of hand the world over, but it is a phenomena that seems particular acute here due to the strong association that Spaniards seem to hold between roads and progress. In the months and weeks leading up to the elections, political agendas brim with openings, rushed inaugurations and the plaques that accompany these ceremonies and it’s precisely the wording on these dedications that pique my curiosity. The words ‘excelentisimo’ and ‘ilustisima’ may seem normal to Spanish speakers but to someone new to the language like me, they have always struck me as somewhat noble sounding. I’m certainly no Spanish major, but these routine protocol formulae appear to me as though they are titles bestowed onto someone born into a royal bloodline rather than someone who has been elected into public office by their fellow citizens. I’ve lived here long enough to know that the black legend of a supposedly anti-democratic Spain, propagated by those like the Catalan separatists, couldn’t be further from the truth, but words have power and often betray perspectives. In a country that doesn’t allow for open electoral lists and abhors the liberty to vote against the Party, I wonder if indeed there is some truth to my hunch. From the mouths of babes come damning truths and there are deeper things that need addressing than patching up patches. 

Secondary Training Day, Escuelas Catolicas Madrid

Harnessing the Visual Zeitgeist

and

Stories Beyond the Images

In Madrid today.