Of prayers and wishes

AOG, Madrid

The year is almost over, but the worse thing is that Christmas is almost upon us. 

The last time I was in London, the lights were up on Oxford street. 

So that's about two months of lights and decorations. The season is in full swing once again.

However, Christmas always makes me think about those people who will have to "bear" the celebrations once more. 

I am thinking about those people who will not be able to fully participate in the festivities. 

People who wish they had the money to buy all the goodies on show. 

Money to buy a little bit of happiness. Never mind money, sometimes just a job will do.

Here in Madrid, the season too has started. But in a different way. 

I once read that the great American poet, Maya Angelou, said this about luck: "If one is lucky, a solitary fantasy can totally transform one million realities".

You see, one of the typical things people in Spain do this time of year, is buy a lottery ticket. It is a national custom. The Spanish, like the Americans, are obsessed with luck.

My partner buys me a ticket as a Christmas  present. I think it is kind of nice that someone gives you as a gift the opportunity to acquire a lot of money.

In Madrid's Gran Vía boulevard, there is a certain lottery vendor known as 'Doña Manolita' who acquired its fame years ago for  being a place where a few winning tickets were sold over the years.

Spain at present has Europe's biggest unemployment rate as well as the largest number of people unemployed in the developed world to the tune of 4.5 million people. 

Yesterday on the paper, as well as on television, there were stories about how long the lines were and how they crowded out other shoppers in the area. 

I walked past it this past weekend and the line was something else. More than ever, the Spanish need their luck to change. Or, barring that, just extra cash will do quite nicely, thank you. Can we blame them?

It is easy to see that in time of despair, some of us detach our thoughts from our mundane lives and throw ourselves into the arms of fortune in the hope that, as Angelou wrote, a single fantasy will change one million realities. 

We all want change, though we all fear it. Of course, the change we like is the change we can control. The change we work for and expect as the fruit of our toil and labor. 

Yet I remember the eternal Chinese caveat: "Be careful what you wish for, it just might happen". 

And lets not forget the great Spanish mystic, St. Teresa of Avila, who wrote: "More tears are shed over answered prayers than  unanswered ones". 

So, as per usual, we have something to fear from the unknown and we are warned, in both Chinese and Western cultures, not to want to change things too much. Not to ask for much. 

Not to desire much, just in case. Just in case we get it. 

And then what? Perhaps it is more about not wanting too much, and using fear to try and make us happier because, more than likely, our prayers won't be answered, and our wishes won't be granted. 

Yet, even though this might be the case, we choose to envelop a little bit of knowledge, or mundane philosophy if you like, in  transcendental ideas. 

Is it that the Earthly world is just too real for us to cope with it fully?
I don't know. 

All I know is that the year is coming to an end.

That 2010 will eventually be forgotten, for better or for worse. That I will pray and wish for change, and that nothing out of the ordinary will happen. 

I will not wake up a millionaire from just wishful thinking. 

Or from buying a lottery ticket. 

Of course, I might just buy the winning number. 

One never knows!

That is why we call it a game of chance. 

The online dictionary defines the word thus: "The unknown and unpredictable element in happenings that seems to have no assignable cause."

No assignable cause. 

Much like what is done when one prays. When one makes a wish.

Public Holidays Judeo-Christian Style

AOG, Madrid

Yesterday, a newspiece popped up on the El País website. It mentioned that the Catalonian School Council in Barcelona (Catalonia is Spain's most "on-again, off-again" progressive region- at least it likes to think it is) was putting forward a project to the Generalitat (Catalonia's regional Government) to rename the Christmas Holidays (Navidad in Spain) as, simply, Winter Vacations. And the same goes for Easter- Spring Vacations.

It also wants the school year to have a week of rest for the students in February, to start earlier than it does, and to debate the heavy workload of some public schools in June. All these measures it seems to have the full backing of the Council.

According to the article, in Catalonia 63% of schoolchildren go to public schools, and 37% go to private academies- and more than half of these are religious schools.

Of course you can imagine the outcry. Change Christmas? I posted the link to the article on Facebook and my take on it.

I am all for the name change. Why call it Christmas? Years ago I was informed as to why in the US and the UK we often say "Season's Greetings" on X-mas cards.

So as to 1- not offend non-Christians, and 2- take away the religious aspect of a Christian holiday in a lay society.

A couple of colleagues at work are also friends on Facebook. One of them is very religious. He blew a gasket. He did not understand how you could separate the religious from the holiday (btw...Holy-Day). He thought the whole thing stupid, but he was, however, open to debate and discussion. He is a journalist after all.

My other friend, not religious at all, had a similar reaction.

He did, however, went down a more cultural route.

Would the Catalonians be willing to rename Saint Jordi's day? Saint Jordi (Saint George), is the patron saint of Catalonia (and Aragon, Ethiopia, Georgia, Greece, Lithuania, Palestine, Portugal, and Russia, as well as Moscow, Beirut and Barcelona) and on the 23rd of April, Barcelona celebrates the day with lovers giving each other a book and a rose. On that day, Mexico, in accordance with UNESCO, celebrates what is known as Book Day.

I recall it very well from my childhood and when I was told about the celebration in Catalonia, I was surprised to hear about the attached Saintly celebration -Sant Jordi's days.

Needless to say, it is a very beautiful public festivity with the whole city of Barcelona awash with bookstands and flower sellers.

I don't know if they want to rename the festivity, but they might not care. Or they might do.

Part of his argument was tinged by Spanish nationalism versus Catalan nationalism.

In other words, regionalism versus regionalism.

His main argument against the name change was that "it has always been done like that".

I, of course, argued against the danger of any premise that starts with that sentence. Women in Africa are circumcised because it has always been done like that. Women in some Islamic countries are stoned to death if they commit adultery (not the men of course) because it has always been done like that. When I mentioned this, he agreed to the invalidity of that argument. But he still kept to his former view.

Another Facebook friend, who now lives in the US, reminded me that in the Soviet Union Christmas was celebrated eventhough the regime outlawed all religious dates. Much the same continued to happen in Cuba until the regime relaxed its stance. The Pope visited Havana not long ago.

I pointed out to my friend that Christmas was actually based on a previous, pagan, holiday.

Emperor Constantine thought of merging the two so as to not upset too much the pagans (of which, according to historians, he was one until almost his dying day when he was finally baptised).

So the celebration of someone who was, in theory, born in August, is performed in December.

Furthermore, how many people, I asked, do something religious at Christmas? Many do, of course, but here, in Spain, the younger generations are not that religious. And many older people aren't either. Yes, they like the tradition. The look of things. But I think the religious aspect is, often, forgotten or looked over.

I for one am not a great fan of Christmas. Jesus loves you so here's a Playstation. Somehow it does not compute. Yes, as a kid its a good chance to get things, if you are lucky enough to have parents who can do that, and you live in a country where that is done.

But as an adult, yes, I love the presents aspect of it, but little else. Certainly the religious part of the festivity pushes me away.

Would we still get gifts in December even if Christmas was re-christened? Probably. The gift industry needs dates like that.

Furthermore, the Japanese celebrate Christmas. But then Japan is a law unto itself.

C of E mass

Tonight, after dinner, my sister took us to Midnight Mass. I have not been to midnight mass in about....well, I can't even rememeber. I remember going once when we were living in Houston around 1985. I remember that night because the blue suit my mother wore was a gift to her from my sister and I. But after that, I cannot recall when I went again. So much so that when my sister announced we were going after dinner, I had to think about exacty what it was we were doing. I am hardly religious, or in fact not at all.

This may change with age. I have noticed that people get more religious the older they become. Perhaps that might happen to me as well...though I doubt it. I am extremly anti-clerical at the best of times, so becoming religious in the future is not looking like it might happen.

I do recall the first time I went into a Protestant Church in the UK. It was Church of England, but to me, a Protestant Church just the same if only because Christians are either Orthodox, Catholic, Protestant, or Coptic. I know that in the UK, CoE is sort of Catholic Light, but just the same, it is Protestant even if it is not Hardcore Protestant. Not that these denominations mean a lot to me.

But back to my point. I went to CoE mass whilst attending LSE back in 2001. We had been invited to stay at Cumberland Lodge where it is costumary to attend mass on Sunday at (I think) St Catherine's Church, inside of Windsor Great Park. In theory, the royal family were due to attend as they do most sundays during the fall, but I think that weekend the Queen Mother had one of those "chicken bone" incidents for which she was so well loved. Or something. So no Queens attended that day. At least not royal ones. The priest...well, that is another blog altogether!

I attended Sunday mass with a fellow classmate who is from New York and, being of Italian grandparents, Catholic. I do recall we were both amused by the amount of standing that went on during the service. I rememeber that we were both very tired at the end of it- though this might very well be because we stayed up until about 3 in the morning chatting away the previous night with the other students. Nonetheless, it was a new experience. It was funny when the priest said something along the lines of "...and bless the Queen and the Royal family and...". I was very surprised. Just as I am when in Catholic churches they say "...and bless the Pope and...". I always tend to say to myself "if I feel like it which I don't really". I find it hard to pray for political figures. Bless the Queen? the Pope? Heck, lets pray for Fidel Castro while we are at it! And why not Robert Mugabe in all his homophobic glory? No no no. No praying for people in power from me. Call me rebellious.

Tonight we went to mass at St Mary's Bloxham. The church itself was very beautiful: early or mid Gothic with a lovely spire. Inside it was very warm. Because we arrived a bit late, we sat at the back, and my view of the lisping vicar ( Jethuth ith Lord) was obstructed by a beautiful four-pillared Gothic column. it was a superb space. And I love English spires. And St Mary's has one. See photo above!

In this church, as in all the other churches in my life, the hymn book and photocopied mass guidelines (the script?) were not in synch with the actual service. I wish they would just give you a step-by-step guideline of the evening's songs, sermons, hymns, prayers and responses.

All my life, whenever I find myself in a mass situation, I can never follow what is happening. And whenever you are supposed to answer to things like "The Lord be with you" or "We give you thanks", I am always mumbling something like "blah blah, mm, mmph....amen". I never know what is going on. I am never on the same page as the congregation. And yes, in Oh! so many ways....!!!

Perhaps if I'd gone to mass more often I would know these things, but, alas, I have not. And I'm not about to start going. God is one thing but organised religion is another. Oh, and I hate with a passion the part about shaking people's hands and saying "mumble mumble...be with you".

Last night in Spain 2006

Tonight is my last night in Madrid. In a few hours I flyback to London to spend Christmas with Madame Mère, Sister & Bro-in-law in their lovely home (with room for a flock of ponies!) in the shire of Oxford. And their dogs. I won't be in Spain again until january 2007. And by then, I will know if I have been granted an internship with the PRISA media group (owner of El País, CNN +, SER Radio, etc etc) or not. If so, I will be happy. If not. Well...we'll see. I don't wish to anticipate anything.

Of course, I have been flying to London once a month (sometimes twice a month) since January. So it is not as if I'm flying home after a long spell. Home is now Madrid. Sort of. Somehow. Not that I think of London as home. Although I lived for 15 years on that island (The UK), I never thought of London as home. It was where I lived. But it did not fit my definition of home (in this respect I envy my mother and sister. They LOVE the UK. I, as with all else, have to be Le Garçon Différent). But Home, is Spain now. And when I think of it, it feels ok to do so. Do I miss London? Yes. Sometimes I do. How could I not? But love it? Mmmm....

I only love the US. And Mexico. And Spain. And France. And Cuba. And Argentina. I like South Africa. I like Germany. I like Venezuela. I like Greece. I like Denmark. I like Portugal. And Hungary.

I sort-of-kinda-in-a-way-but-not-always-yet-somehow like London. But not to live there. I think it has become one of those places I visit and like. A destination with the added bonus of a resident family. One way or another, I will always be tied to the island for better or for worse. But I think that is ok too.

It is funny because I have never lived anywhere for 15 years non-stop but for London. Maybe that is why I don't love it. Though this is not true. There are a million reasons why I don't. And million (or close to a million) why I do. Maybe I should be positive. I like that people think it is a world city. Like New York. Unlike Madrid. Not a world city just yet.

My classmates have loved calling me English (Tony es inglés) all year long. Which is amazing because the british never have done that; because I very obviously am not. Especially when I open my mouth and speak; when I do, a type of California via Texas accent comes out which is very obviously not British. And yet when I go to the US everyone thinks I am British. "I just love your accent" "What accent?". I am doomed. I know. I will forever be intertwinned with multiple cultures in spite of myself. Doomed to be "the other" until I die.

Even in Spain, where, in theory, I am meant to be from by virtue of birth and parentage. Though a life lived outside it does diferentiate me from most people here. And I think it shows sometimes. Yet, I speak their language, and they think I am some sort of weird hybrid. And whenever I say something odd, it is never because I might BE odd, but because I am foreign. To them. So not from here either.

But it has been amusing to be thought of, in a roundabout kind of way, as British. Especially because the Spanish, like the Americans and everyone else on earth, are sold on their idea of the British. They think only of elegance, teas at 5, the English look of things, Harrod's. Ideas which are as real as those about Spain- paella, sea, sex, sand and sangria. Spain, just isn't this. Nor is Britain that. Of course, these things do exist within both countries, but they do not even come close to defining them any more so that to say George W. Bush represent all about the US. How could he? how can these things?

So. In a few hours back to London. Shopping spree tomorrow before Christmas with the Hunter's. I guess I'll be quite tired by the end of it. And then off to the big apple for New Year's. Yes, it would appear like I travel a lot. But on a budget. There is no glamour involved.

By the way, I have not packed yet. And also, four of my friends in London are away on holiday. Not that I would have much time for them but...

I was told about this website when I first started working on TV back in '04 in London. One of the runners on Fit Farm (Channel 4) showed me this site. It makes me laugh. Wait until you get to the snake part.

Oh, yes, And have a very Happy Christmas 2006.

First post from Madrid in English

Well, after living in Madrid for nearly a year, and now that my Master's in journalism (part one) has finished (part deux might continue in january if I'm lucky enough to get an internship at El País), and I no longer wish to move away from all things Anglo in order to improve my Spanish, I have decided to inaugurate this blog. I am not sure how much I'll write in it, since Subvero (the Spanish one) is going strong and after a year I think I might have around 1.5 readers in all, but I find it hard to write only in Spanish. Though I love the language, English is the language I've used for most of my life, and I can express myself better and without stuttering in it than in Spanish. Though this might, in time, change.

For the time being, here is post number 1.

On saturday I fly to London for X-mas. Not looking forward to it extremly ( I think I am suffering from post-Master-traumatic stress-disorder). I have spent all of yesterday at home, except for going to dinner to this hell hole, or rather ground hole since we had to sit on the floor (do I look japanese to you Luis?? no, didn't think so) near the Malasaña neighborhood. I got home around 4:30 am. Today, much the same. There are some friends coming round on thursday for dinner. I have to clean my miniscule-yet-oh-so-fashionable petite studio in Chueca (that's gayville in Madrid to you) before then. God I wish I could afford a maid. I hate housework!

I also still have to pack, go shopping for gifts, attend the good bye & Christmas drink at El País, get my head together, and overall avoind getting depressed over the holidays.

The link of the day...this american guy living in Wales (no, I don't know why he lives in Wales, or on that island for that matter).Read bits of his blog and his articles make me laugh. In part, it is his fault I am writing today at all. I have been avoiding an english-language blog all year long. His name is Chris Cope.

Thus far I can say he is about a thousand times funnier than Bill Bryson. I know this is hard to believe. I am fully aware of being the only human being on earth who does no think Bryson is neither the bee's knees, nor the dog's bollocks (can you tell I lived in London for far too long??). I know it is my misfortune to have to share the entire planet with a man who has the wit of a leaf of lettuce. Alas, I must!

Anyway, read Chris' blog. His Christmas video is quite funny. It even has choreography. Quite remarkable considering he is living in Wales.

TTFN.

PS: The image is Banksy's. Partially his fault I started this blog in the first place. Although...chain of events goes like this- El País website-> Banksy's photo-> Google search-> Banksy's website-> What he reads-> Chris Cope's website->my neurosis-> Willoughby