The World’s Premier Website for Finding Useful Information about Andalucia and Southern Spain established in 1996

Death in the Afternoon

Ever since I arrived in Spain six and a half years ago, I have wanted to do and see and experience everything that is quintessentially Andalucian, and especially part of life in Seville. Tapas, flamenco, Semana Santa, Feria, bullfighting.

Yes, bullfighting. I figure that if there’s a custom that you don’t agree with, you should at least try it, so that you can say, “Oh yes, I went to a bullfight once. It was xxxxxx and it made me feel xxxxxxxxxxxx.’ I most definitely do not agree with bullfighting. As a vegetarian anti-bloodsports pacificist, it repels and disgusts me. But I have always promised myself - my curious, journalistic self - that one day I will go to a ‘corrida’ – after all, Seville has one of the most important bullrings, both architecturally and in terms of the quality of the participants, in the world. Until then, I will just have to judge it from what I have glimpsed on TV.

Anyway, I feel that it is more about the idea of the thing, than actually watching a bull have lances and spikes stuck into its back live in person, as the crowd cheers and claps in appreciation. Because to your average Spaniard, it is either something you think is wonderful, full of ‘art’, skill and courage, or it doesn’t bother you. This is borne out by various surveys – the latest, in 2006, found that 26 per cent of Spaniards were either very or quite interested (for which read pro), and a whopping 72 per cent weren’t at all interested (78 per cent of women and 81 per cent of young people). As for being against it, or even taking a stand, that is a rarity, although becoming less so - in Catalonia and the Canary Islands it has been banned (though some say the Canaries was to pander to the tourist trade, as there hadn’t been a major corrida there since 1986). In Andalucia, Cadiz has the strongest anti-bullfighting movement, where they have even managed to delay the construction of a new bullring, while many major cities have seen demonstrations in recent years: Malaga, Cordoba, Granada, Almeria and even Sevilla. In fact, many Sevillanos I know, of my age or younger, are against it.

A matador wants a clean kill, they say, so the bull doesn’t suffer. Yes, all well and good, but that’s not the point, reply we touchy-feely, sentimental, bunny-cuddling northern Europeans. He shouldn’t be killed at all. Leave him to eat flowers like Ferdinand. But if there were no corridas, there would be no bulls, they say. Yadayadayada. If 24,000 fewer bulls are bred so that 30 million people can’t watch them being publicly taunted, tortured and slaughtered every year, I won’t weep into my gazpacho.

Bullfighting is not covered as a sport here – after all, the result is a given, the bull always dies – but as an art, in the culture section of newspapers; its reporters are “critics“. As Hemingway, himself both an aficionado and practitioner, with two books, Fiesta and Death in the Afternoon on the subject, put it: ‘The bullfight is not a sport in the Anglo-Saxon sense of the word – that is, not an equal contest…between a bull and a man. Rather, it is a tragedy, which is played… by the bull and the man involved… in which there is…certain death for the animal.’’ Fiesta, art – words we would associate with positive concepts like celebration, creativity and beauty. The bullfighters themselves enjoy fame and glamour equal to big-name actors and singers – Jesulin de Ubrique, Enrique Ponce, Fran Rivera.

As I said, I firmly believe that you either think it is acceptable or unacceptable. The standard in favour opinion was expressed beautifully in El Correo yesterday. Accompanied by a most attractive and appealing illustration of a severed heart pierced by banderillas (short, barbed, decorated spikes used to weaken the bull), a journalist expounded on how outrageous it was to suggest that anyone who goes to see a bullfight, and even more so the bullfighters themselves, takes pleasure in the animal’s suffering. So stabbing and driving a sword into a bull is, what, tickling him? Having a bit of fun? For I have often read that rarely is the bull killed ´cleanly`- in other words, with one strike of the sword, with as little mess, and further pain, as possible.

Our journalist, who I am sure enjoys wide support in his views, uses the word ´suffering`, or derivatives thereof, nine times in his opinion piece. So this taurino, or bullfighting fan, is not denying that the animal does suffer. Just that he doesn’t enjoy it. So you’re all for killing animals, but you’re not a sadist. Well whoop-de-do. And what exactly do you do while the poor beast is staggering around the ring with lances and spikes hanging out of its back? Look away in horror? Protest loudly, saying, ‘I am not enjoying this. Honestly, I’m not. I think it’s shocking.`?

Let me quote you some particularly interesting phrases: ´´Most Spaniards are aficionados of bullfighting´. Hmm. See above-mentioned survey. ‘I won’t bother to try and convince those of you who are against this type of event (I suppose that you’re also against hunting, fishing and any human activity which mistreats animals…)`. Right, so you agree it’s mistreatment. Now we’re getting somewhere. Not even an English bloodsports enthusiast, and I know plenty having grown up among them, would admit to mistreatment of animals. They all talk about ‘quick, clean kills’ too. He goes on to say that ‘it’s an impossible dialectical battle which is going nowhere. Those who are against it, always will be, and the same goes for those who are in favour.` OK, that’s probably true. It´ll be a generational change.

The writer goes on to wax lyrical about bullfighters; specifically, matadors: ´´I don’t know any twentysomething young person who speaks with as much depth as a bullfighter.` and “If only those who defend the animal… were capable of generating as tolerant, profound and calm a personality as those whose job it is to kill the bull.’’ What is this, Zen and the art of bullfighting?

The Spaniards are hopelessly in awe of these men who put on their traje de luces and prance around in a ring sparring with a 500 kilo beast, who pull all the best-looking women, and who get stinking rich in the process. Let’s face it, it’s the ultimate macho wet-dream.

I will leave it to the highly respected Spanish naturalist, Feliz Rodriguez de la Fuente, to have the last word: ´´The national fiesta (ie bullfighting) is the greatest apotheosis of human aggression.“

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Culture and Customs | No Comments »

Church and State

Today is International Women’s Day. Thinking it was another of those 15-to-the-dozen ‘read a book’, ‘eat more fruit’-type International Days, I was surprised to hear that it has been around since 1911, in the days of women’s suffrage. Women in those times demanded better pay (plus ça change), shorter hours and, most importantly, voting rights. IWD is now an official holiday in many eastern European countries. In some nations, it has equivalent status of Mother’s Day, and children give presents to their mothers and grandmothers. Officially it is to “mark the economic, political and social achievements of women“.

Which got me thinking about the role of women in Spanish society, and how much it has changed in such a short time. When I was researching an article about women in Spain, soon after arriving here, I was genuinely shocked (and somewhat horrified by my own ignorance of this country’s recent history) to learn that until just over 30 years ago, under Franco’s permiso marital, wives couldn’t have a job, own property or even travel without their husband’s permission - and divorce was almost impossible. So this applied to my mother-in-law and her generation, and while my husband was growing up women were treated as second-class citizens. In Europe and the US, women’s lib was in full flow, with bras being burned and pills being popped.

Now, obviously there’s more freedom for mujeres españolas - the socialist government has put through reforms on quick divorce, and passed a new sex equality law; but men are still paid 40 per cent more than women here. It’s a country, and a people, split between catching up with the rest of modern European society, and staying put with its long-standing traditional values. Here in Seville this split is as obvious as anywhere, with a big demonstration yesterday against Zapatero’s new abortion law, which makes it easier for women to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. Currently, they have to allege mental distress as grounds for abortion.

Religion plays a major role in such debates, since the Catholic church is firmly and squarely against all these issues – divorce, gay marriage and adoption, and abortion. Catholic family groups organise many of the rallies against new socialist legislation, with senior clerics speaking out against such laws. At one event, the bishop of Valencia, Cardinal Agustin Garcia-Gasco, declared that ´´the path of abortion, express divorce and ideologies aimed at manipulating the education of our youth… leads to the breakdown of democracy´´. The Catholic church described the new law as “outrageous´´, saying that it contributes to ´´moral confusion´´.

Strong words, deeply felt and, doubtless, spoken with complete sincerity. The church’s official views on gay marriage are unequivocal: the Catechism of the Catholic Church states that it opposes homosexual activity as ´´intrinsically disordered, an abuse of our human nature. Under no circumstances can it be approved.´´

So it has been with some interest (and amusement) that I have been following a story that must have the Vatican in a right two-and-eight. A papal gentleman-in-waiting is alleged to have asked a chorister, both since dismissed, to procure male prostitutes for him, with physical details specified. Numerous men are said to have been procured for the giw, including men studying for the priesthood, as well as models, dancers and a rugby player. One whom the chorister offered to the gentleman (it reads like a bad joke, or a Carry On film), was ´´two metres tall…97 kilos… aged 33…completely active.´´

The giw, who was caught on a police wiretap negotiating with the chorister, is a senior government official of the Public Works department. As a ceremonial usher, he is a member of the Gentlemen of his Holiness, an exclusive fraternity ordained to “distinguish themselves for the good of souls and the glory of the name of the Lord.´´ Distinguished he is, as in marked out from the rest, by international press coverage of the scandal. Hypocrisy is far, far too small a word.

Let’s make no bones about this. We all know that it goes on, whether consenting or not. At my husband’s school, a Catholic boarding establishment near Seville, abuses took place the like of which have caused major scandals recently, focussing on the emotional trauma suffered by the victims and the refusal of the Church to stop the abuses, in Ireland and the USA. I have little doubt that Spain’s time will come soon for these mass revelations, stretching back decades, but the church here still enjoys a position of strength and respect (though this is ever-weakening) which will continue to afford it some protection from the mounting tidal wave. But the Vatican is reeling from a continual flood of these claims, and it’s easy to imagine poor old Benedict XVI exploding in a Gordon Brown-style rage at his household and their goings on. Prostitution rings have probably existed for years, but never in the public eye. Can it get any worse?

On a lighter note, though none the less entertaining, the Vatican´s official newspaper, L’Osservatore Romano, recently published its list of “Songs to be a Good Christian´´ (yes, I thought it was a joke too – often seems to be the case with the Vatican lately, doesn’t it?). Onward Christian Soldiers? No. Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus? No. The top ten rock CDs approved by the Holy Father (who prefers Bach, Mozart and Beethoven himself) has in first place Revolver by The Beatles, because it marks ‘a new beginning, a break with everything they had done before’. You can only dream, Your Holiness. Also favoured are Rumours by Fleetwood Mac and Michael Jackson’s Thriller. You don’t need me to point out the irony. In 9th place is What’s the Story, Morning Glory? by Oasis. Didn’t anyone think to, er, mention to the Holy See what that expression actually means, in reference to the male anatomy? They have may got themselves some column inches, but more followers? Somehow I doubt it.

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Current affairs, Religion, Social affairs, Women | 4 Comments »

Ship to Shore

I hope you’re having a good puente, if you live in Andalucia, where yesterday - 28 February - was Andalucia Day. I am sure I’m not alone in thinking that three-day weekends are the way to go, especially when the weather turns out to be considerably better (warmer, drier, sunnier) than predicted.

We here in southern Spain were lucky to escape the worst of the fierce storm, called Xynthia, which wreaked havoc on the peninsula’s north coast and south-western France on Saturday night. I opened my door on Sunday morning to find a branch from one of our trees sitting on the terrace. People in Portugal, France, Germany and northern Spain were killed by falling trees, while those who live on the French coast were flooded in what makes Jerez’s recent problems look like little puddles. Winds of up to 180kph, along with 20-metre waves from the Atlantic, battered a swathe of western Europe from Portugal all the way up to Belgium. Immediate direct results, in addition to deaths and damage to property, were devastated woodland in France, forest fires in Spain, and nearly two million people without power in France (where four deaths were caused by inhaling carbon monoxide from faulty generators).

Some of the inhabitants of a village called La Faute-Sur-Mer in La Vendee, just north of La Rochelle, died before they even realised what had happened to them, since they were asleep in bed at the time (which might even be a good thing). The levees protecting the village broke and water poured in, reaching the rooves of the houses in a matter of minutes. Some people didn’t even have time to wake up, while the lucky ones were rescued from their rooves – a few having slept the night there - by helicopters. The death toll will rise as more bodies which were carried away in the torrent are discovered. One woman, in another town, reached safety by swimming out of her bathroom window. Oh, the irony.

Will I ever get off the theme of rain/floods/rivers/sea, I hear you ask? Well, you have to admit, it has dominated the last couple of months to an amazing extent, with the heaviest rainfall on record in Andalucia and the worst floods in 60 years. I guess it’s so much more shocking to me when it happens here, as this naïve newish expat thought Andalucia was all sun, sun, sun, with the odd light shower. How wrong I was.

My original planned topic for this week is actually water-related, but in a much more positive way. So, excuse the slightly creaky link, and let’s segue from the Atlantic as a lethally destructive force of nature, into the Atlantic as a route for commerce, transport, exploration and navigation. One of the countless local events which was delayed by the recent inclement weather was the departure of the Galeon de Andalucia from Huelva, where it was launched (the ship was built in Punta Umbria), on its voyage to the Expo in Shanghai.

This 40-metre reconstruction of a 17th-century galleon is currently moored in Seville, at the recently refurbished Muelle de las Delicias, next to the Pabellon de Argentina. It will stay there, open for visits, until 7 March, when it departs on a 9000-km tour to France, Italy, Malta, Egypt, Indonesia, Singapore and Hong Kong, before arriving in China in late June/early July. When I visited - on Sunday, Andalucia Day, with unexpectedly beautiful weather - many families were milling around on the broad, cobbled riverside quay, enjoying the sunshine, admiring the nao; the more dedicated were standing in the long queue to board the ship and look around. Children on their bikes were asking their parents, ‘Is it a pirate ship?’. The galleon is indeed a dead ringer for Jack Sparrow’s Black Pearl, although there’s an unmistakeably Spanish image on its stern of the Esperanza de Triana, while the lamp above the Virgen Inmaculada is a copy of one from an Hermandad de Silencio paso. Its national and regional identity are made even clearer by its two flags, flying Spanish and Andalucian colours.

It’s an impressive nao (Spanish word for vessel), if not huge, built of oak, teak and pine, with three masts for its billowing sails (it also has a motor) and 10 cannons. These galleons were used for trading routes such as Acapulco and Manila, back when Spain was a force to be reckoned with, if not one of the most powerful Empires in the world, trading tobacco, precious metals, textiles, porcelain, ivory and spices with America and Asia. And where did these ships leave from? Seville? And where were they built? Huelva.

Now, as the unusually down-to-earth director of the Fundacion Nao Victoria, the organisation which built the ship, explains, ‘It’s important to have been an important country, in order to be one again.’ So here’s someone, unlike most andaluces, who doesn’t think he lives at the centre of the world. The director continues, in a comment as astonishingly blunt, and extraordinarily modest, as any I have ever heard about my adoptive country, ‘For some countries we don’t exist’. Rather than bringing goods, as in yesteryear, the ship will bring the name of Andalucia to the world. It will serve as an ambassador from one former economic powerhouse, selling Andalucia’s name, legacy and reputation, to the next one, China. It’s promotion, history, tourism, marketing, economics and diplomacy all rolled into one. Bon voyage.

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Culture and Customs, History, Weather | No Comments »

A Sense of Place

As everyone who saw the horrifying pictures of that raging torrent of water in Funchal - people being saved from the water by helping hands, and cars left crushed by the force of the onslaught – will know, Mother Nature has been showing her more aggressive side of late. Apparently the poor 42 souls who lost their lives in Madeira, including one Briton, were killed in their cars when the water swept down the mountains. They didn’t stand a chance. This extreme weather is ‘exceptional’ for the island, and ‘very unusual for this time year’, when Madeira is normally warm and sunny, an ideal holiday destination. It makes the recent floods near Jerez , namely in El Portal where the river Guadalete burst its banks yet again, swelled by overflow from the reservoirs, and where some inhabitants have retreated to the first floor of their houses, look tame by comparison. Unemployed people will be helping affected residents to clean up the mess. In Madeira, they’re using diggers.

Living so close to the Portuguese border (well, by vague Andalucian standards, anyway, where half an hour and 30 minutes aren’t the same), I was horrified to see the scenes of devastation in Madeira, even if it is thousands of miles away in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. It will probably sound in no way logical if I say that, were such a scene to occur (and let’s hope it never does) in the north of Spain, for example, it would seem another world away.

Let me explain. Before I arrived in Seville , I was told that a) it was very beautiful, b) its inhabitants were very proud and thought it was the best place in the world, and that c), a logical continuation of b), they weren’t that bothered about going anywhere else and were quite content to stay in their beloved Sevilla. Being a cynical old(ish) hack, I took this with a pinch of salt. But when I arrived, I realized how true it was. Many Sevillanos proudly tell me they don’t have a passport, and they’ve never been abroad (which includes Portugal, 100km away). Some rarely leave the province, let alone Andalucia itself. The rest of Spain is foreign, irrelevant. What a load of boring old stay-at-homes, I thought.

And yet here I am, six-odd years later, and do I give a monkey’s what goes on in the rest of Spain? Well, in Andalucia, yes, because it’s where I live. But in Castilla la Mancha? Not really, no. Galicia? Nope. Catalonia? They’re banning bullfighting and Feran Adria’s closing his restaurant. Other than that… I have become as inward-looking as the rest of them. (My husband, who is from Camas , a town just outside Sevilla, and has lived abroad and loves travelling, says he is ´Sevillano first, Andalucian second and Spanish third.’ I think that says it all.) With a choice between regional (Andalucian) news or national (Spanish), I go for Canal Sur every time. I can’t imagine being glued to Look East, the equivalent in England, with its train derailments and council overspending. Gypsy families being evicted and beaches washed away is just so much more interesting and colourful (as well as sad, obviously). Yes, I know trains are derailed here too, and as for councils… best not to go there. I suppose it’s because it’s all still new and there’s so much to learn that I find it so endlessly fascinating.

Living in a place also gives you some feeling of ownership over it. You care about what happens to it, and if you don’t agree with plans for it, you feel angry and personally affronted. So when I read last week about new proposals of limiting visits to Seville city centre by motorists to 45 minutes, with a 90 euro fine for breaching this, I was shocked. But my horror turned to chuckles of amusement when I read that they also want to divide the city into four zones (NE, NW, SE and SW), and that the time limit also applies to residents of each area driving into the others. To me, the words ‘recipe’, ‘disaster’, ‘political’ and ‘suicide’ spring to mind.

I am all for keeping noisy, smelly cars away from those historic buildings, but give me somewhere to leave the damn thing please! Whether it’s in the city, or at a metro station. And, while we’re on the subject how about sorting out the public transport system first? Finishing the metro perhaps? So I noted with great interest and no small amount of journalistic pleasure, the battle that commenced in the local press yesterday. The president of the CES (Confederacion de Empresarios de Sevilla) likened the new plans to ‘occupied Berlin, divided into areas controlled by the Germans, Russians and English.’ ‘Listen, this is Seville,’ he went on. ‘This sort of control is not right in a free society.’

From the other camp, the City Council’s delegado de Movilidad defended the 45-minute time limit – ‘15 minutes to arrive, 15 minutes to do your errand, and 15 minutes to leave.’ The examples of such errands included dropping off a child and visiting a family member. For 15 minutes? Wouldn’t that be an insult? But my favourite part was when the esteemed delegado suggested that pedestrianisation, another hot potato in local politics and public opinion, was not to blame for so many small businesses shutting down in the areas now closed to traffic. ‘They need to offer more attractive goods,’ he declared. ´They can’t just stick with the same stuff they’ve always sold, which people don’t want any more.’

Wow. Note to traditional store owners: noone wants your stock these days. So get rid of it. Then you’ll survive the recession, get lots of new customers (on foot, of course) and we’ll all live happily ever after. Hmm. If I feel outraged, I wonder how the residents of those four zones feel, and those who need to go into the city (which has been dubbed by the Ayuntamiento, `City of the People’) regularly, for 48 or 52 minutes? Sevillanos have a stronger feeling of ownership over their city than any other I’ve ever lived in. They will not take this lying down. I’m on tenterhooks to see what´s going to happen. For the drama, as much as the potential inconvenience. The gloves are off. I never thought I’d say it, but I just love local politics. I’m watching this story with bated breath.

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Current affairs, Driving, Weather | 4 Comments »

Singing in the Rain

OK, I’m afraid it’s inevitable, with the skies as they are today. How can I not talk about the grim weather we´re having? Especially since my family just called me from England to say how beautiful and sunny it is there, and how my parents and my brother’s family, visiting for half-term, are all going out for a walk later. Jealous? Moi?

Last month figures were published on the damage caused to Andalucian agriculture by the extraordinary amount of rain which fell here last December and January. A staggering 930 million euro in produce was lost, of which Almeria province came off worst, with nearly 400 million euro – that’s a lot of rotten tomatoes and ripped plastic. But there were also huge quantities of damaged olives all around Andalucia; potatoes in Seville suffered, as did onions in Granada and carrots and parsnips in Cadiz. Almost half the strawberries and raspberries in Huelva were lost. Whether under cover, on trees or even under the ground, nothing escaped the torrential downpours. Add to this the extensive damage to infrastructure, such as roads washed away, floods and landslides, walls collapsed, irrigation systems disabled, power pumps destroyed, and greenhouses damaged, and you get an idea of just how disastrous those endless weeks of precipitation were for our economy. Which was already mired in the ‘Crisis’.

So this is, I feel, an ideal time for some light-hearted distraction. Some all-singing, all-dancing, fancy-dress fun. Yes, it’s Carnaval (that’s how they spell it here) time in Cadiz. The weather may be vile, the forecast for the entire week may be rain, rain, rain, but will that stop the Gaditanos and millions of visitors to the biggest shindig in Europe from enjoying themselves? Somehow I doubt it.

The amount of preparation that goes into the chirigotas (satirical singing groups) that compete in the Teatro Falla in the weeks leading up to the street party itself, is amazing – the detail in the costumes, the make-up, the music, the lyrics. One of my favourites, which was pipped into second place in Saturday night’s final by just one point, was ´El Escuadron de los Jartibles´ (the Squadron of the Drive-You-Mads). I didn’t understand many of the words (friends who’ve been here for nearly 20 years still don’t), but the sight of middle-aged men dressed in underpants, tights, boots and black helmets with mosquito antenna and proboscis, wiggling their bums and stomping about, was more than enough to keep me entertained. And they were loving every minute of it, especially the fat guy. Can you imagine a load of middle-aged British blokes doing that? No, neither can I.

Other groups extracted the Michael from taxi drivers (wearing seats complete with beaded mats strapped to their backs), lawyers and Arabs (political correctness is not on the agenda here). While I confess to understanding very few of the lyrics, the content is always topical, and I do know that Ronaldo’s elbowing incident in the Madrid-Malaga game last month featured in several suitably irreverent cuplés.

I can’t help worrying how their make-up will cope now that the indoor competition is over, and the chirigotas will be out and about in the streets of rain-swept Cadiz. But, being Spanish, they probably won’t let it bother them, and will have a good time regardless. Bars where a squadron of 50-something thirsty insects will be welcomed to shelter from the downpours will not be hard to find.

Of course these costumes have nothing on those massive sparkly headdress-and-bikini numbers sported by participants in the Rio carnival, this year even more fired up due to their recent winning of the battle to host the 2016 Olympic games. But even so, the sight of men in make-up was enough to me think about dressing up. Personally, I find it a bit of a pain in the backside. If someone presents me with a costume, accessories and wig all prepared and coordinated, I will happily wear it. But sewing, sticking, organizing, looking for props in Chinese shops? Sorry, can’t be bothered. I have a friend who thinks nothing of buying metres of velvet with which to turn herself, her partner and her four-year-old daughter into a medieval family, or pirates or whatever. She does a brilliant job – because she loves it. Her other half is the sort of willing and enthusiastic star who builds the carnival floats every year for his village procession. Together, they have a treasure-trove of every outfit you could think of.

My admiration for them is boundless. I think you either love all that crafty, DIY stuff, or you don´t, and I fall into the latter category. For those of you who will be dressing up for Carnaval in your town or city this weekend, ignore the weather and have a great time. I take my hat off to you.

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Culture and Customs | 2 Comments »

Keep it down!

Today, I’m not going to talk about the weather. Thank goodness for that, I hear you say.

Living in Spain we are all used to the uproariousness, the joyous shouting and laughter, the noise of everyone from the bombona man calling out to customers as he brings his gas canisters, to the man at his fruit and veg stall extolling the virtues of his onions. After a local victory in a football match, everyone sounds their horns as they celebrate, driving along with their team’s scarf trailing out of their car window. After a Sevilla-Betis derby a few years ago – I think it was a league final - the hooting went on all night, literally. I heard the next day that my neighbour, an irascible English teacher who shall remain nameless (his flat, like ours, faced the internal patio), had actually run into the main avenue outside our block in his underpants, stood in the middle of the road, and shouted at the motorists, ´´Shut the **** up!´´

Knowing the Andalucian propensity for exaggeration as I do, I took this with a pinch of salt; but then, knowing the neighbour’s temper, it could equally be true. The noise had bothered me as well, but I am far too lazy to run all the way downstairs, across patios and out into the street to shout at people who will either laugh at me, or ignore me, which would only intensify my fury.

So I wasn’t very surprised to find out that Spain is the second-noisiest country in the world, after Japan (Japan?). Apparently, one in four Spaniards (or Spanish residents, I presume) is exposed to excessive noise levels. The tolerable level is 45 decibels, and on the TV news the other day, the reporter measured 75db in a Madrid street. One report claims that this causes anxiety and stress in 25% of the population, problems of concentration and irritability in 28% (my ex-neighbour), and aggressive behaviour in a considerable 36% (my ex-neighbour again).

I would imagine that this applies largely to urban areas – the flat I lived in at the time was just off Seville’s main circular route which follows the old city walls. Perfect for driving round and round for hours on end, tooting your horn to celebrate your team’s victory and annoying intolerant, bad-tempered English teachers (I think he left the country soon after).

Of course, most people who live in cities reside in flats, which don’t afford much in the way of noise privacy. I remember being pregnant and having my siesta interrupted on a daily basis by the most tuneless singing I have ever heard from my neighbour (different flat), accompanied by the same phrase repeated on the piano. I almost wept in frustration when he ignored my banging on the wall. While living in flats in Spain I’ve heard babies screaming, a violin being assassinated, numerous rows and couplings, and loud, hysterical tears. No wonder one of Spain’s most popular TV series was about the characters who inhabit a block of flats – they can all talk about, spy on, and interfere in each others’ lives – a popular pastime here.

A new website called ‘Que nada te quite el sueño´ - don’t let anyone stop you sleeping – has a few suggestions – take off your heels when you’re walking about (note: this is especially true if you have wooden floorboards; if your dog has long claws, please clip them); only use the horn when it’s necessary (ha! How many times a day do you see a blind/deaf/stupid/dangerous motorist? Isn’t it self-defence, and your civic responsibility, to stop the idiot from pulling out in front of you because he hasn’t seen you, because he was talking to his mate, or using his mobile phone? Therein lies another entire blog post); and control the volume of your TV and music. It is perfectly normal in Spain to leave the TV on at full blast all day, whether or not you are watching it, having a conversation, or the kids are trying to do their homework. A friend of mine told me that visitors sometimes actually turn on her TV when they come round, so she did what any sensible person would do – she hid the remote control.

I was delighted to find mention of a ´Dia Internacional Sin Ruido’, which took place on 29 April last year, during which children where educated in ´Culture of Good Sound Practices´ - sounds like something they’d teach in China. How intriguing. Instead of yelling ´Mamaaaaaaa’ at ear-splitting volume, do they whisper? Instead of blasting out their heavy rock music, do they play folk at a softer, more considerate volume? Rather than calling to their siblings in the street, do they ask politely, ´Excuse me, Pablo, would you mind coming here please?’ I think not.

Like smoking, I can’t see the Spanish changing their behavioural habits that easily. In any case, how would anyone ever be able to collect their tapas order at a bar without the barman shouting, ´Pacoooo, solomillooooo’ at the top of his voice?

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Culture and Customs | 2 Comments »

Here Comes the Sun

Oh dear, I seem to be rather weather-obsessed, don’t I? I blame my mother, who being a typical Englishwoman, is never happier than when discussing what sort of wind is blowing, where it’s coming from, and whether there’s going to be a frost tomorrow morning. The weather forecasts on TV and radio are treated with almost the same reverence as the Queen’s speech. Noone is allowed to speak while it’s on, or you get shushed to within an inch of your life. I still get the full local meteorological low-down over the phone when I call her.

Here in Andalucia, there’s one aspect of the weather that we can almost always rely on: sunshine. Right now, in the winter, we have beautiful pure-blue-sky days, like today; ‘regular’ days, like yesterday, with some sun and some cloud; and real stinkers, like those weeks and weeks of endless rain, grey skies and general gloom. But for a large part of the year, we have days and days of sun, sun, sun. You don’t have to worry about what it’s going to be like, because you know - sunny.

OK, I know I am stating the obvious for many of you, but for those who aren’t lucky enough to live here in Andalucia, it is incredibly sunny for much of the year, with a minimum average of six hours daily in January, going up to 11 hours in July. When we go back to England, to visit family, my (Andalucian) husband blanches visibly at the sight of overcast skies, thick clouds and not even a glimpse of the yellow orb for weeks on end - and that’s in July. He could never, ever live there.

So it seems entirely logical, if a little belated, to read that yet another massive solar power plant is going to be built in Andalucia. Torresol’s 100-megawatt Valle 1 and Valle 2 will be located in San Juan del Valle in Cadiz province, with the project getting under way next month and taking two years to complete.

The new plants will create 3,200 jobs, which is great news for the local economy, and eventually produce enough electricity to supply 80,000 homes, while saving 90,000 tons of carbon dioxide emissions annually, which is great news for the environment. The whole project will cost over 70 million euros, and, unlike other solar power plants, will use (or rather test) new technology to enable it to produce electricity at night, and when there isn’t much sunlight. Don’t expect me to explain the technicalities of this, as science is not my strong point. But I did read somewhere that each panel has an optical sensor to ensure that it follows the sun´s movements, to obtain the maximum benefit.

If you’ve read this far, then you may well have already heard about the extraordinary solar power plant which opened nearly two years ago just outside Seville, in Sanlucar la Mayor. The Solucar PS10 plant has made the news all over the world, literally, as the first commercial solar power tower, while is quite something when you think what a relative current affairs and cutting-edge technology backwater south-western Andalucia is. It makes enough power (11 megawatts) to power 5,500 homes, and by 2013 this will increase to 180,000 homes (300MW).

I went to visit it for an article, and was taken up the massive tower whose extraordinary, other-worldly blinding light you can see from the Huelva motorway. It is very James Bond, with all these massive mirrors laid out in a rather pretty arrangement in a field. Since I was there, another two such towers have gone into operation at the same site. The most exciting plan I have heard is for a 400-billion-euro plant in the Sahara Desert, the size of Wales, to provide 15% of Europe’s power.

I get a warm feeling when I read about such plans, because I think they are such indisputably good news. We have all this sunshine, all this free, renewable energy, so why not use it? Why not harvest it to good effect, helping us power our washing machines and fridges, reducing our dependency on ever-decreasing fossil fuels? It seems a win-win situation to me.

And of course we can each do our own bit for the environment too by putting solar panels on our rooves, to heat our hot water, and swimming pools if we’re lucky enough to have one (no chlorine, please) - you can read more about sustainable energy sources in our Green Andalucia feature this month. I have to admit that I don’t have any solar panels on my own house yet - I don’t even have mains water - but do have plans to install them. Honestly. I will put my money where my mouth is. Will you?

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Our Environment | 2 Comments »

Linked In, online and in the loop

Very exciting to read last week that high-speed internet access will soon be extended to every village in Andalucia. Apparently, the 600 villages that aren’t currently connected to the net will be able to do so using mobile phones. This is a terrific idea, when you think how the internet has completely revolutionised our lives. Not to mention amazing considering that this is southern Spain, where (in some areas at least) not so long ago the ideas of email, websites and the internet were considered frighteningly modern. Friends tell me of Spanish people who still today tell them proudly, ‘I´ve got email now.’ I’ve seen plenty of websites of local companies with a homepage and nothing else - no contacts details, no information, nothing.

At the other end of the scale, I was in a restaurant last night where several of a large group of 15 or 16-year-olds were using iphones. I have also heard of a plan to provide schoolchildren with notebook computers. And, of course, many Spanish companies are now at the cutting edge of technology when it comes to user-friendly, easily-navigable websites with all the latest gizmos for keeping you up-to-date with their latest activities.

As I learned at a work thinktank last week, all our communications - work, personal, social - will soon be done on mobile devices, probably a cross between a notebook computer and a phone, possibly like Apple’s new 11-inch-screen Tablet, which is launched in the US this week. Tomorrow´s gizmo will be able to make calls; send email; surf the internet; post tweets and blogs; take, upload and watch photos and videos; play music (and probably make it too); read ebooks; tell you where you are, where you need to go, who else you know has been there, what they thought of it, and what they ate.

We are more instantly and constantly informed, connected and updated than ever before. But from my position living near a small, quiet country village (albeit very near a city), I can see both sides of this. Most of the people where I live aren’t aware of Twitter, Vimeo or blogspace. It’s just not relevant to their lives - and if you don´t know what these are either, it’s couldn’t be easier to find out - check out Twitter on andalucia.com.

Then there´s the other side - my own life, stuck to the computer for more hours a day than I care to admit, chatting to friends, looking at their photos, seeing what they’re up to, personally and professionally, laughing at their comments and comparing their lives to mine - oh, and working, of course. My excuse is that I live a somewhat isolated life as an expat with a husband who works very long hours, two small children and not much local social activity, so this virtual social life keeps me in touch - and sane. And it can benefit my (and your) professional life too, as the social-media-techno-whizzkids at the thinktank last week explained to me.

It was a curious experience, feeling at the same time incredibly out of the loop (freelance for years, small children, live in a field in the middle of nowhere), but also very grateful at being brought back into it. Using one recommended professional networking site, I have made contact with people I used to work with 15 years ago, people I haven’t seen for 20 years. And it´s fascinating to see what they´ve been doing, how they’ve progressed in their careers, and where they are now. At least that´s what I tell myself as I put the Bob the Builder DVD on again for the kids.

Our children will live in a different world to the one where we are, of that I am sure, but I hope they will find time to talk to each other in person too, and to write more than 140 characters at a time. Please don’t get me wrong, I am not in any way against all these advances - I love them, they´re useful and fun - but I have one foot in the world where we used to write letters and postcards, too (I still do put pen to paper, in fact).

I believe it´s about striking the right balance - I don´t think the inhabitants of those 600 villages in Andalucia need worry about getting addicted to Farmville or Four Square just yet, but there´s nothing like mulling over life with a friend over a cup of coffee and a tostada. Their lives will be enhanced by this new technological arrival, not overtaken by it - which is just the way it should be.

And talking of technological advances, we’re working on some very exciting ones here at andalucia.com, which will offer a host of new information (in addition to our unparalleled exisiting 5,000 pages), different media and, above all, involvement by you, our readers. That is where all this comes into play in an entirely positive way - making it easier, and more fun, for you to find out what you need to know - and sharing your knowledge, as you already are on myandalucia.com. Exciting times ahead - as they say, watch this space.

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Technology | 5 Comments »

Light in the Darkness

It has been incredibly heartening to see the positive stories coming out of last week’s earthquake in Haiti - the two-month-old baby revived by American doctors, the two-year-old girl pulled from the rubble of her nursery school by British firemen working without their normal equipment, another two-year-old boy rescued by Spanish firemen, and a little girl found by an Australian journalist.

Also, to see the impressive instantaneous response from normal Americans - government always give money, but it’s much, much more telling how deep the general public will dig into their pockets after such events. Using an ingenious system, they could pledge 10 US dollars to the emergency relief fund just by sending a text message from their mobile phone, to be taken off their bill, a service now also available in the UK (a more modest 5 pounds). US mobile users have so far donated an incredible ten million US dollars, while the Red Cross received a whopping 35 million dollars in less than 48 hours. Crisis, what crisis?

Also it has been fascinating, and again, very positive, to see how social and other media have been used - some Facebook groups listed names, addresses, and photos or descriptions, of missing loved ones, while CNN became another information point for those desperate for news, creating an area where families could be ‘reunited’ - upload photos of the missing, names and pictures of those found, and tributes to the less fortunate.

Another service gave a number for people in Haiti to text their location to, so they could be sent information on where to find help directly to their mobile phone.

Celebrities haven’t wasted any time in helping out. Rafa Nadal, Roger Federer and other top tennis players played a charity match in Melbourne yesterday called ‘Hit for Haiti, while George Clooney is to host a telethon.

Watching the images on TV made me think, as these things always do, how lucky I am to live in a developed country, and not to have to worry about where my drinking water is coming from. Only 54 per cent of Haitians have access to safe drinking water.

Yes, back to my favourite topic again - that clear, life-giving liquid. Spain has sent a number of mobile water purifiers to Haiti, which can make 1000 litres safe in a matter of hours, and will be indispensible to the people of Haiti.

Sticking with the theme of water, both under the ground and falling from the sky (less so over the past few days in Andalucia, thankfully), climate change is never far from our minds these days - Europe’s environment ministers met in Seville last week, and vowed to stick to their guns over cuts in carbon dioxide emissions - 30 per cent by 2020. Let’s see if it really happens.

Wasn’t it wonderful to have such mild temperatures over the weekend? My son was running round the garden barefoot and without a jumper on - in mid-January that seems unthinkable (I´m a friolera, so I was wearing a fleece), especially after such low temperatures recently - and, of course, that controversial recent ’snow’.

The weather seems to come in extremes here in Andalucia - either it pours with torrential rain for weeks on end, or it´s incredibly mild for the time of year, or we’re hot hot, hot. Every May/June, as the thermometers shoot up, you hear people tutting to each other ‘¡Que calor’, as if it was the first time they’d ever experienced it. And of course, over the Christmas-New Year-Reyes break, it was ‘¡Que frio!’. So a bit of mild weather for the time of year is most welcome. More please!

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Current affairs | 1 Comment »

Snow in Sevilla

Hello, it’s Monday and for many people it’s the first real work day of the year. Yes, I know, there were some ‘dias laborables’ last week, but it’s hard to get back into things properly when Reyes chops your week in half. So this is our first full week, and it’s tough after all the fun of Christmas, New Year and Reyes.

So back to the grindstone, with a month of largely cold, wet weather to look forward to. It’s woolly hat, scarf, gloves – at least, first thing in the morning - hot soup, hot chocolate, hot fire weather. One of the better aspects of winter is when the countryside takes on that fairytale air – a dusting of icing sugar on the trees and roofs. Yes, I’m talking about snow. Yesterday the white stuff dominated TV and online news, as well as social networking sites. I have never heard so many people debating the difference between snow and sleet. Why? Because it is alleged to have snowed in Sevilla yesterday (Sunday 10 January). And why is that so important? Because the last time it snowed here was over half a century ago - on 2 February 1954 - so if it did, it’s a really big deal locally (the newspapers called it ”historic”, which I would call your typical Andalucian exagguration).

Noone will argue that it snowed in the province of Seville yesterday, as well as in all of Andalucia’s other seven provinces, while the cities of Jaen, Granada and Cordoba also experienced a white covering. In Sevilla province, the Sierra Norte gets snow most years – so it’s not unknown for roads to be closed, or even some towns even cut off, and the same is true for other mountainous areas of the region such as the Sierra Nevada, and the Sierras de Huelva and Ronda. But the big argument was whether the official account was correct – did it actually snow in Seville city itself?

It was METAR, the airport weather report service, which confirmed that it snowed in Seville city yesterday. But many people disputed this, arguing that it was sleet (defined as a mixture of snow and rain), not snow, that fell. The online discussions veered towards mostly sleet, with possibly a few flakes of snow thrown in momentarily, though some denied this vigorously. I’ve never seen people get so heated, if you’ll excuse the pun, about meteorological terminology.

In the towns of the Aljarafe, the high area to the east of the city where I live, there’s no doubt that it snowed – I know, because I saw it myself. Citizen journalism, whether you like it or not, provides us with instant photographic evidence on occasions such as these, and it was wonderful to see all those familiar local places popping up on news websites with their magical white dusting.

Reassuringly, Spanish trains couldn’t cope with the freezing temperatures, although they weren’t as pathetic as the Eurostar with its pre-Christmas all-night breakdowns. In various parts of Andalucia, trains and tracks froze – over 600 passengers had to be evacuated from four trains. And even today, with the thermometer creeping back up again, the AVE is still suffering delays – and the passengers can’t even use their no-more-than-20-minutes-late-or-your-money-back guarantee while the speed of the trains is limited to 160km/h.

For those of us still experiencing below-zero temperatures, as well as those lucky enough to get a bit of sun today (like me), just think on this: some parts of Europe will be experiencing Siberian temperatures of -45 in the next few days. Not so bad after all, is it?

Click here to read the full article...

Posted in Weather | No Comments »