There’s an editorial this week signed by the Euro Weekly’s journeyman Spanish writer Alfredo Bloy who, in style, appears to be very similar to Mrs Euesden. At least on this occasion. The editorial chastises other newspapers and blogs that wantonly criticise his sterling efforts as he and his team ‘pour our hearts and soul into every day to produce this grand newspaper for you, dear reader’.
Alfredo’s control of idiomatic English picks up at this point: ‘it is getting boring, folks, get a life’.
He points out that few Weenie-readers are competent in Spanish and so believes that English-language papers ‘provide a valuable service informing the community of what is going on in this, their second home’
Which explains the seven pages of British satellite listings, the article about ‘dishing the dirt’ on English telly, the news from Scandinavia, the news from Germany, the exchange rate for a New Zealand dollar and Leaky Lee’s drivel about the Pakistanis.
His parting shot ‘I figured I’d confess, nay, reveal how my team go about collecting the news…’ I have to admit, nay, concede that this masterful piece of editorial must come from another. Sorry Alfredo, nice try.

Today is the day of La Vieja Remolona. It is actually a fiesta from Aragon but for some reason is celebrated here. Even though it is not an official holiday if you don’t go to school or work no one minds. The history of La Vieja goes back a long time to when the children needed a break from the rigours of Lent, getting a sort of day off. The whole family trudges up the mountain and has a picnic which include special breads and cakes made for the occasion. They have twisted breads with hard boiled egg inside and chicherones (pork rind) I think that they are as bad as they sound but today they sell like hot cakes. The children in Mojácar make a paper doll on a cross and, after the picnic lunch in the campo is over, throw rocks at it. The head is full of candy resembling the Mexican piñata. A lot of young people started the fiesta last night and will carry it through to tomorrow. Any reason to have a fiesta Here’s a song the kids in Aragon sing, threatening those neighbours who won’t give them sweets with a stone through their window (the original ‘trick or treat’):

O viejo remolón
Que no quié comer pan,
Sólo chulleta y huevos
Y chocolate si le dan

'The lazy old grand-dad won’t eat any bread, only meat and eggs, and chocolate if you give him any'.

So good to see on the telly that Mexico’s nice Mr Slim has forty billion euros and America's nice Mr Gates has just a handful of euros less, an item of news followed by an orphan family in Zimbabwe scratching roots out of the dead bit of ground they live on and between the graves of their parents, just to try and eat, coupled together with the amusing fact that 15 euros a year would be enough to send one of them off to school. Here locally, the agreeable subject of edacity is illustrated by the wealthy mojaquero that just bought my cousin’s land by tricking her address from the sales-agent and contacting her himself, thus avoiding paying any commissions. Doesn't matter much, you know: the realtor is a foreigner, you see… as am I.

Dear All,
You are receiving this email because you contacted Marta Andreasen’s office regarding the Spanish property scandal. I am Marta's parliamentary assistant, dedicated to this issue.
Here, I aim to explain Marta’s motivations and action.

Although elected by the South East of England, Marta has vowed to fight for this issue on behalf of all victims of this appalling affair, regardless of nationality or political constituency.
Marta Andreasen has taken on this problem, as she knows of the devastation caused by the corruption and badly drafted laws.
She feels strongly that homeowners are being treated unjustly and are receiving no protection from any of the responsible parties involved, the regional government, the Spanish government, their own government or the European Union.
Her office monitors the situation and is informed daily of developments through local contacts, amongst which we count property owners, journalists, lawyers and activists.

[ Read the rest ... ]

Caliper/Paranoia

I kind of knew there was something bad by the squeal of the brakes. Something had gone wrong, so I phoned my local garage and booked the car in.
The mechanic circled the stricken car like a lurcher homing in on the panic-stricken hare. He tutted, his chin apparently stuck to his chest, kicked a tyre, said it sounded like... pursed his lips, then without finishing his sentence said he'd have to take it for a test drive.
I waited, read a paper, but didn't really concentrate. Worried about how much this was going to cost I was beginning to feel like a condemned man. People passed through the little foyer and cast sideways glances at me, I knew what they were thinking in their heads.
The mechanic came back, he had a brush moustache peppered with grey and hairy nostrils.
'Caliper' he said simply. 'Sticking'
'How long will it take you to fix it?' he could see I was anxious, he could probably smell fear in those hairy nostrils of his.
I have this theory that mechanics when they have you gripped by the most painful region of your anatomy - metaphorically speaking of course - take great delight in prolonging the agony. He pursed his lips again.
'If I can get the parts...' he stopped again. 'Leave it with me'
This didn't explain anything, I had work to do, places to go, people to see (not that I was in any rush), his statement left me in limbo. 'So' I thought 'what do you want me to do?'
He was writing something on an official looking form.
"Will I ring you later?' I said weakly.
He didn't reply, nodded, kept on writing. 'The little bastard' I thought to myself 'He's on a power trip.'
'Phone me lunchtime' he ordered and walked off toward the garage.
I didn't get my car back that day, it needed new discs as well as the caliper, and I was travelling by public transport the next day as well. When I finally spoke with the mechanic again, I am sure he was grinning from ear to ear when he told me there had been a delay with the arrival of the parts needed to repair the car and he would have to keep it for another day.


[ Read the rest ... ]

Well, Mojácar is bust like a lot of other towns in Almería. But it has money. There's the eight million euros it got from selling off a prize chunk of Macenas a few years back. However, the Junta de Andalucía stepped in then and said the town could only spend that money on building council houses (VPOs) on land which was fit for urbanisation. Which, in another master-stroke from that same authority, turns out there isn't any.
'You see', an ex-mayor of Mojácar was telling me over a beer, 'this town never had any 'illegal homes' like Albox, Arboleas, Cantoria and so on, but we have always taken the brunt of the blame as the most corrupt town in the eastern end of this province'. The reason, according to this same source, is because the PSOE came at the tail-end of the thirteen runners in the last local elections here with just a handful of votes.
'Are you saying we should vote for the PSOE for our survival?' I asked astonished?

There's nothing wrong with voting, as can be seen by the successful elections in Iraq (the same day as the Oscars). An acceptance speech from John Oliver on Jon Stewart's The Daily Show.

There is a brand new program coming out in a few weeks from the Instituto Nacional de Tecnologías de la Comunicación which will search and highlight any sexist material which comes from official documents or content from the administration - or indeed, anywhere in the Spanish cybersphere. That's right, no more implied or unintended insults because that perfidious language employed by Spain, el castellano, uses gender.
Which is why politicians say things like 'compañeros y compañeras' and write 'amig@s' to not offend the easily provoked members of society.
With me so far? The program is called 'Lenox'.
The 'Ministry of Equality' is very excited (I know. But yes, there is one - talk about Spain going from 'Macho' to 'Manso' in a generation!). Soon, you will be able to inspect any Spanish-language site and rate it for sexist commentary.

That's right, another official language in Spain. This one, spoken vaguely in parts of Asturias, is called Babel and it can now be used for any letter, plea or communication with the Asturian government, after a ruling in the Constitutional Court in Madrid today, according to El País.
Wikipedia tells us that Babel (also known as Asturian) is spoken by a relatively small number of people: 'In 1994, there were 100,000 first language speakers, and 450,000 second language speakers able to speak or understand Asturian. However, the situation of Asturian is critical, with a large decline in the number of speakers in the last 100 years'. Of course, local supporters are doing all they can to revive the language and damn their children to a future of isolation and obscurity.
It also appears that Babel is closely related to Llionés (León) and Mirandese (this last one spoken in a small pocket in Portugal).
So, another official language. Of course, if Gibraltar becomes part of Spain, a rather more useful language will join the official Spanish lexicon. Cor blimey!

Later: a reader points out that there is another language fighting for supremacy in Spain. see El Instituto de Lenguaje Klingon.

The Spanish government has agreed to place an advisor at the orders of the British Consulates to watch for British owned property problems in Valencia (Alicante) and Andalucía (Málaga) after an agreement was reached today in Málaga with Gaspar Zarrías (the long-time advisor of Manuel Chaves, now Secretary of State for Territorial Cooperation), Juan Espadas the Junta's planning tsar, Chris Bryant the British Minister for Europe and the British ambassador Giles Paxman.
Mr Bryant evidently travelling down to Málaga after his meeting this morning in Albox.
The agreement, which will help 'the million Britons living in Spain', is designed to help and advise Britons wishing to live here, with the endless and complicated rules and regulations explained and observed. This should avoid any future 'illegal' situations for Britons to do with property, health and social issues.
'It is better to find a solution beforehand', said Minister Bryant today, 'before the courts are needed. In Albox they used lawyers but still got into trouble, and this is not good enough'.
Zarrias and Espadas (in what some British readers might consider to have been a jocular moment) underlined that juridical security in Spain is absolute: 'Los británicos saben que aquí funciona el Estado de Derecho y que hay leyes, todo se hace conforme a derecho'.
So, perhaps - in one month's time, when the new system begins and certified Spanish advisors are in place in the two consulates - things may have taken a change. And that's good news.

Daily Telegraph 'Bulldozing expats homes will hurt Spain'.

GMTV ('Spain Homes under threat'). Minister Bryant talks about the illegal homes and his efforts on property owners' behalf.