El Mirador de la Memoria

The bullet holes you see in the sculptures at El Torno are real and recent. It has been more than 70 years since the guns of the civil war officially fell silent and more than 30 since Spain's brutal dictator died peacefully in his sleep. Even after so many years, tensions here lie close to the surface (as do the dead in unmarked mass graves across the land). The Spanish Civil War is still in many ways an open wound, one that festers yet is purposely ignored due to a national pact of amnesia. Overlooking one of the most beautiful valleys in the country, the gunned down and defeated were given a memorial and their peace, but it lasted for only a few hours when they faced a firing squad once again.

#history #valley #view #sunset #sculpture #landmark #war #death #fighting #spanishcivilwar #warmemorial #civilwar #memorial #mirador #panorama #europeanhistory #dictatorship #remembrance #scars #bullets #spanishhistory #fascism #jerte #wounds #leydelamemoria #miradordelamemoria

Originally published on Trazzler

Heads or Tails?

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.

I was sitting in a bar in the Calle Moret having a midday caña (little beer) when I heard the news. One of the older regulars burst into the bar and said, 'Have you heard? The old elephant matador has gone on safari for good!' The volume on one the TVs that seem to be found in the corner of every bar in Spain was quickly turned up and sure enough, his royal highness Don Juan Carlos had abdicated. At this time of the day, the clientel varies between pensioners having a pitarra (young local wine) before lunch and civil servants who work nearby taking late coffee breaks; not a tattoo, rasta or perroflauta (hippy) in sight. Surprise quickly turned to irony as the conversation veered towards his sexual conquests and their amazment that his wife hadn't thrown him out long ago. Another pitarra was poured and they moved on to the amount of Vega Sicilias the ex-king had enjoyed on their tax dime. Thirty minutes passed by and I realized that not a word had been mentioned that could have been construed as positive, that is if you don't count some of the admiration expressed for his ability to dupe his wife. The next day and since then for that matter however, the newspapers have spoken of a different Spain. One that doesn't seem to coincide with the conversations I am overhearing in bars, at work, in the check out line or waiting to pick up my daughter at daycare. It seems that you have to turn to page twenty-six to find a line or two about the fact that no Spaniard under the age of fifty-six has been able to vote on their model of government. Keep reading and you get the impression that the dreaded r-word is only reserved for anti-establishment types and hoary bearded old Marxists. There's also almost a complete black out regarding those on the right of the political spectrum who share no love loss for the monarchy, in particular those on the farther right who still view the ex-king as a traitor who went back on his word with el generalissimo. The inability or perhaps unwillingness to state that a republic is not necessarily the Republic and that each and every citizen should be able to aspire to be head of state seemed so surreal to me until my wife flipped a Canadian coin at me and said, “Heads or tails?” As the coin landed in my hand, I looked down and saw the profile of England's Queen Elizabeth staring up at me and realized that yes, things could indeed get even more absurd.

Spanish Sunday Afternoons #8

Riding the Metro in Madrid and you suddenly turn around.

Is it a new horror movie that's just been released?

Princesas de Primavera (Spring Princesses)

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 the time of year for cherries, little sailor suits, Playstations and travel agents with deals on trips to Euro Disney. I happened to be invited to a communion the other day and to this guiri travel writer, these celebrations are as exotic as bullfights, Songkran in Thailand or Novrus in Iran. 

It wasn't my first, so I had an idea as what to expect but this one happened to be in one of the megachurches in one of the newer parts of the city and therefore promised a different look at an old custom. 

It's been a warm spring and that particular day was no different. The traditionally sombrely dressed men had added a bit of color and had decided to dip into their clothing reserve that is normally reserved for summer weddings but it was definitely the rather short skirts that seemed to catch everyone’s...eye. 

When the ceremony began, I found myself inside the decorated gymnasium as the nervous children walked up the aisle, the weight of their protagonism etching itself in ever slightly different ways on their serious faces. As the ceremony drew on I found myself drifting outside along with clouds of incense and a steady stream of better-dressed people. Walking around the growing crowd, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on conversations here and there. 

Lunch seemed to be the topic of the day with the key words being where the luncheon was taking place and how many had been invited. According to many, communions were becoming like weddings in order to help with that trip to see Mickey in Paris. Sentries peeked in on the ceremony now and then and as it began to come to an end, the crowds slid back in. 

The children were now standing at the front and a crush of paparazzi formed in front, but the priest had yet to finish. The crowd grew and so did the noise as the priest strained to be heard over the hum, 'Don't forget that while today is important, it would be nice to see this enthusiasm here tomorrow (Sunday).’ I don’t often agree with sermons from the pulpit but this time he was on to something.

Whose Legs?

Fat Frog's Legs For Sale

It seems that there has been a seachange in finger food here recently. While frog's legs have always been on the menu in this region, it's generally something that was either common knowledge among locals or something that was tucked away in a lost corner of the menu. I've even heard tell of stories of enviro-bureaucratic hassles driving frog farms from these lands across the border into Portugal but that seems to be changing because it's the third sign I've seen this week.

Tapas this weekend?

The Cubist Maze of Masouleh, Iran

Take a drive from the shores of the world's biggest lake called a sea, through rice paddies that wouldn't be out of place in Southeast Asia, and end up in a Central Asian village in mist covered mountains? It's not teleportation, but the trip to Masouleh might be the closest thing. Up from the Caspian, a cubist maze clings to green mountainside, the roofs of each house becoming the terrace of the next. Narrow lanes shared by people and water as it rushes downhill to the sea. Hotel it or try one of the homestays that abound along orange-tobacco scented alleys and in the evening enjoy the battle between the sounds of rushing water and the gurgle of hookah pipes.

#hiking #architecture #smalltown #mountains #driving #coast #view #village #roadtrip #getaway #sea #hookah #seaside #offthebeatenpath #terrace #home #remote #tobacco #mountaintown #steep #ricepaddies #centralasia #localculture #homestays #caspiansea #inlandsea

Originally published on Trazzler

Fiestas for Who?

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.

Thank goodness the powers that be have followed through with their promise to make us all more efficient and Nordic. No more of those useless holidays that fall in the middle of the week. Just like the aptly-named Bank Holidays in the U.K, all midweek fiestas will soon be moved to the following Monday. This, along with talk of bringing Spain back to its pre-Franco time zone, aligning us once again with the British isles and Portugal, is supposed to make our habits more...European shall we say. 

But if it is indeed our goal to ape the so-called success of the North, a few other changes will have to be made here in Caceres. First of all, outlawing pinchos and tapas. After all, why should we encourage neighbours to get together and socialize outside their homes, away from the glowing blue box? The growing atomization of society should also be sped up and the growing trend of replacing human relationships with dogs a-la-Parisien should also be encouraged. Beer and wine will also have to be made prohibitively expensive so that you can only afford two a month and giant tarps will have to be put up to create that monotonous grey ceiling that hovers over northern Europe for the majority of year. This will of course encourage people to stay inside or at least fester just a little bit longer at their desks. Sobremesas will no longer be needed because everyone will be too overwhelmed with work to talk. This in addition, of course, to banning all lunches that can’t be stuffed between two slices of bread. Public squares will be renamed after famous brand names and a ten minute loitering limit strictly enforced. All older people, due to their inherent slowness, will have to be shuttered away from the general public in homes and fed on bread and water in order to reduce pension payments. 

Well now that I think of it, except the annoying midweek holidays thes past two weeks , let Europe end at the Pyrenees for all I care. 

Picnic in Persepolis

The book and ensuing film might have brought the name Persepolis back into vogue, but this place was already rocking when Alexander the Great came a knockin' then burnt it down in the ensuing bacchanal. Superlatives don't do what remains justice and if ancient ruins are your thing, then this is your Mecca. History lessons come to life as you realize that just maybe your education was a little too Hellenic-centered. The Achaemenid empire was second to none and these magnificent ruins retell the tale. Carved into history, Ethiopians pay tribute with Giraffes while Zoroastrian lions guard regal archways. One of the best things about them? It's very possible that you'll have them all to yourself.

#architecture #film #getaway #ruins #ancientcultures #unesco #literary #book #ancientcivilizations #unescoworldheritagesites #ancientruins #oldstone #stonecarving #classiccivilizations #persia #alexanderthegreat #achaemenid #comic #marjanesatrapi #graphicnovel #toptenliterary

Originally published in Trazzler

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (Spanish Radio Program)

Interviews can be difficult, add to that another language but José Carlos Macías made the experience easy. Thanks for the great time. Click over here for a listen.

Up in Trevejo, Spain

Walking through the small, lonely mountaintop village of Trevejo, you'll often find yourself alone with the sheep and goats that roam among the ancient stone houses. Perched atop the mountain, the Templar castle of Trevejo surveys the Sierra de Gata along the Portuguese border. Built on the ruins of an Arabic fortress, this 15th-century castle was built by the Templar order of St. John of Jerusalem. The locals must have long ago dug up the mythical treasure because I have it on good authority that the only thing found in the past 60 year was the skeleton of a dog that had fallen in, but at least on clear days you can see little white dots that are actually villages in Portugal. After enjoying the fantastic views, climb down the mountain and enjoy the distinctive punchy wines that are produced and enjoyed in the region.

#hiking #history #wine #mountains #view #castle #medieval #knights #templarknights #spectacularviews #templar #religionorders

Originally published on Trazzler

A Crossroads in the Desert, Bosra, Syria

In Bosra at a crossroads in the desert just an hour and half south of Damascus, the Roman world intersects the Arabic in an ancient theater turned fortress. You can imagine watching a classical play while a battle rages beyond the massive walls that were built around the free-standing amphitheater. Every summer international concerts are held in less hostile conditions where the only thing you will have to contend with is the intense summer heat. It was also here that the Muslim prophet met his first Christian and developed a positive feeling for the religion's followers.

#desert #music #festival #theater #concerts #romanruins #muslim #musicfestival #christian #livemusic #islam #summermusic festival #arabfortress #ancient #civilizations #unescoworld heritage site. #mohammed #culturalcrossroads #amphitheater #crossroads #toptenculturalcrossroads #topculturalcrossroads

Originally published on Trazzler