A City Besieged

In this week's Camino a Ítaca a look back at the summit of Culture Ministers from the EU that was held here in Caceres this week. Click over to read the original version published in Spanish in El HOY or read the English version below. (PDF en castellano abajo)

The scene in the square looked like some sort of Mad Max inspired gladiator theme in the gauzy early morning light. The sun had yet to come up over the Bujaco Tower and was just turning the crenellations of the Yerba and Hornos Towers a warm ochre.

There, at opposite ends of the square, two riot vehicles from the National Police were facing off against each other across the barren quadrangle. Like some sort of dystopian jousting match, they sat immobile, ready to pounce at any time.

This wasn’t your everyday morning.

As we climbed the Gran Via, more blue vans rolled somewhat menacingly down the hill and into the square, looking like a procession right out of the authoritarian Handmaid’s Tale. In San Juan we came across a different kind of control. Two canine police dog contingents were parked next to the church and were getting ready to patrol.

Further up the street in Canovas we came across uniformed officers standing on street corners, some armed with heavy looking machine guns.

“Don’t stare at them like that!” warned my 10-year-old daughter as I was visibly taken aback by how heavily armed they were. “If you look at them too long, they’ll think that you want to rob a bank or something.”

But I wasn’t necessarily afraid. I had had enough experience with Spanish police to know that they are some of the most professional and relatively soft-handed police forces in the world, especially when compared with the brutal and barbaric policing in my native North America. Their overwhelming presence, however, on our daily walk to school was definitely domineering and even imperious.

And just as she finished her warning a police helicopter buzzed overhead as it repeatedly circled the city all day while seven more riot vehicles pulled around the Fuente luminosa.

Caceres was definitely under siege. The irony was why.

The culture ministers from all the countries in the EU were in town to talk about culture and here we were almost locked down. They had come to discuss the benefits that culture can bring about in society under a net of suspicion and protection so severe that it seemed like something out of Margret Atwood’s terrifying tale.

They had come to sign what will be known as the Caceres declaration. A document stating that the EU is committed to working to make culture a crucial element of policies in favor of peaceful, just and egalitarian societies. Because, they claim, culture plays an essential role in the construction of democratic societies and in the personal development of citizens and is a cornerstone of the European project.

But what kind of declaration will they be signing along with far-right governments from countries like Poland, Italy, Hungary, Sweden and Finland? Governments who are comfortable banning works of art that they don’t agree with and that are two steps away from holding public book burnings. Will Maria Guardiola find common cause with them and find support for her PP and its extreme right cohorts censoring works of art?

But then I look around at all the police presence and think, maybe they did this to make them feel at home?

Belief is not Enough

In this week's Camino a Ítaca I take a look at how extreme religious belief can warp the way believers perceive events like climate change. Click over to read the originally published piece in Spanish in el HOY or read the English translation below. (PDF en castellano abajo)

We’ve been spared. The summer of horrors from around the world left us relatively unscathed. June to August was the planet’s warmest such period since records began in 1940, according to data from the European Union’s Copernicus Climate Change Service. And not just by a little bit. Here in Extremadura we may have had a few intense heat waves, but nothing in comparison with what other places have suffered around the globe.

From the biblically apocalyptic wildfires that brought smoke to the skies of Spain frommy homeland across the Atlantic in Canada, to those that ravaged Greece and Turkey, it’s been a summer of climate terror elsewhere.

Not that we have totally been spared. The early summer fire in las Hurdes could have just been a harbinger of things to come if it hadn’t been for that brief period of rain in June. Then the terrible fire in Tenerife acted as just another reminder what could happen here.

And then there are the typhoons, hurricanes and flooding. Hong Kong suffered its worst rains since records began 140 years ago, while places like South Korea, India and Sudan were hit by record flooding. Closer to home, a late summer DANA led to not only destruction but also death in Madrid.

But if those storms looked terrible, to add insult to injury after the deadly fires in Greece, a cataclysmic cyclone saw more than half a metre of rain fall on the country in less than 24 hours, also causing death and destruction.

Reactions vary to all these ominous portents, but there are still some who are in complete denial. Like the new consejera de Vox en la Junta de Extremadura, al frente de Gestión forestal y Mundo Rural, Camino Limia who tried to make a joke in response to a tweet warning about the forthcoming DANA in Madrid.

“Iremos preparando 'el arca' de Noe, puesto que las Arcas ya sabemos quiénes las están llenando con estos vaticinios apocalípticos.”

(rough translation: We need prepare Noah's ark, because we know who is filling their 'arks' (coffers) with such apocalyptic forecasts.)

It sounds like something someone might say after one too many gin and tonics, but this wasn’t at the bar. This was a consejera speaking publicly, making light of horrendous climate events that ended in several fatalities.

And while exceedingly unfortunate, her comment offers a revealing insight into the way she and her coreligionists perceive the world. The neofascist party that Maria Guardiola welcomed into government, after repeatedly swearing she wouldn’t, has never hidden its National Catholicism roots.

A ‘belief’ that leads its more extreme devotees to believe that things like climate change are a hoax spread by the illuminati because it would go against their ideal of a benevolent deity with a preordained plan for a world where man is welcome to subdue the earth and have dominion over every living thing.

Beliefs like this are as frightening as the climate emergency because they give the ardent believer an excuse to stop thinking. To stop questioning because their religious belief states that all is decided as a matter of faith. And religious faith can give people a sort of hyperbolic confidence. A dangerous action which paralyzes their critical thinking and leads them to obviate fact…especially in a public official.

A Farewell to Summer

After a brief summer hiatus, the Camino a Ítaca is back with a goodbye. Today there are storm warnings and the temperatures have dropped. Click over to the adíos in El HOY or read the English translation below. (PDF en castellano abajo)

It was starting to get late. The waitresses had begun stacking up the tables that were left empty and were hovering closer and closer to those that were still occupied. Their attentiveness wasn’t necessarily focused on taking new orders, but more centered on somehow telegraphing their will so that their customers would settle up their bills, signaling that their evening could finally begin.

But it was a Friday night...and it was summer.

A woman was singing with a guitar player, accompanied by someone on the cajon. Their repertoire ranged from Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black to No Puedo Vivir Sin Ti by Coque Malla and occasionally one of their songs would strike up a singalong that would float from table to table. No one seemed to be in the rush that the waitresses were hoping for. Last call in the summer is at 2.30 and it was still a ways off.

The Plaza de la Concepcion, or La Conce as it is known, is a microcosm of Caceres. It’s near enough the old town to feel its weight and presence, yet far enough off the tourist trail to be 98% local.

It draws on people from all over the city. There are locals who live nearby and others finishing their strolls through the old town who know that having a drink on the Main Square means paying more money than it’s worth. The broad clientele runs from those who feel it’s a place to let their dogs roam free under the tables to smarter set funcionarios and families whose children play in the minuscule park adjacent to the larger terraces.

A roar of one of the motorcycles that also use the square tore through the air when suddenly I was hit by something on the chest. I looked down to see if I had been ‘luckily’ chosen as a target by one of the birds in the palm trees above but couldn’t see anything. The sky above the tower of the Palacio de Galarza was sallow and indistinct, marred by the haphazard lighting that kills the night skies above the city.

Then, I was hit by another…and yet one more. I looked around and saw others with equally surprised looks on their faces. They too were being hit.

A silence took over the square and then something that could only happen here in Spain took place… Everyone started to clap. It was August and it was raining. The mirage didn’t last long however, not even long enough for the drops to pattern the ground, but it was a sign. The long hot summer was coming to a finale.

There are those who can’t wait for the sweltering summers to end, for an end to short sleeves, flip flops, sweaty brows, gazpacho, and torrid nights.

I’m not one of them.

September means a return to shorter days, early mornings, flavorless tomatoes, traffic jams at 9am and a return to routine. In short, a return to school.

The end of summer brings with it a sense of loss and a sense of grief. Even if the warmth continues till October, its essence is gone. Pero que nos quita el bailao (literally, let them take away what we have already danced) it was great while it was here.