Starting to settle....

AOG, Madrid

Yesterday I was in the north of Spain: San Sebastian. I'd gone over to a Saturday wedding in Bilbao with my other half and we had a free day to tour the Basque country. I have to say, it is the first wedding I attend where, out of 26 tables, 3 of them had two pairs of Marquises, one stand alone Marchioness, and a couple of Viscounts. You have to love Europe for things like that.

Of course, no one introduced the Aristocrats to anyone else and I, 1- made little effort to be introduced and, 2- had little chance to do so anyhow. What I liked best about the whole wedding shindig was being a little more accepted by my other half's friends. A small bond is in the making between them and I. They appear to like me, and I like them back with no appearances. I just do.

And yesterday, instead of staying in rainy, gray and drizzly Bilbao, we droved to rainy, gray and drizzly San Sebastian. Truly, it is a beautiful city. Although renowned in Spain for its culinary excellence, I have to say we were not very lucky with food. It was at best, palatable. I am not a food snob, but I have to say that nothing of note was served to us yesterday. I also saw the new Auditorium & Congress Hall, the Kursaal.

It is a beautiful glass monstrosity by my least favorite Spanish Architect, Rafael Moneo, which lights-up-at-night and has been plonked right in front of an immaculate XIX century boulevard facing the sea, ensuring that the residents who until then had enjoyed a sea view, no longer do so. I am surprised that no one thought of building it further down the sea walk where it meets the mountains and there are no buildings in front. It looks very out of place, and the scale, for a city of punctilious dimensions, makes it look like a baby doll looks like when placed next to a Barbie doll: humongous.



I had been to San Sebastian last (and first) in 1990. I spent an afternoon there with my mother. She told me about her childhood trips and the female bear she used to visit at the local zoo whenever my grandparents took her there. I have yet to see this zoo.

When I got back to Madrid last night, we spoke on the phone. She wanted to know the names of the bride and groom to see if she knew their parents. Somehow her connections to Bilbao tied me a little bit to that place. When I told her we had gone to the Hotel Londres on the beachfront to have a coffee and watch the Wimbledon final she mentioned she remembered it too. She gave me the hotel's full name, which I thought was funny since I too discovered its name once inside. Hotel Londres y de Inglaterra. London and of England Hotel, aka Hotel Londres, full stop. Perhaps the "Inglaterra" is seen as pretentious these days. I don't know, but the Inglaterra bit is not seen anywhere on the hotel's façade.

I have just read a post from a blog I read from time to time. The blog's author, Chris Cope, is American and lives in Wales. And he wants to become a writer.

In fact, he is a writer. I don't know what he has written, aside from a few columns of his I have read online. But he certainly appears to be more of a writer than I. For example...I have yet to acquire a column of my own.

But I do write. Occasionally, weekly, but not yet daily. Here in Madrid, last March, I placed an ad looking for writing buddies. I found three. They are great.

One of them is a teacher. Our writing sessions star and end as discussion sessions and little or no writing is done, but we do set the world right every afternoon. However, once in a while, we do manage to do a few pages. He and I have entered a writing contest for the Spanish Railways Foundation: RENFE. Not to win, just to enter.

The other one, a guy from Chile, is writing a novel set in an office. We meet and discuss the chapters he brings. We have written together maybe once. We also tend to chat a lot of the time.

My third writing buddy is the youngest of the three. From day one, we have always written. We have good writing days and bad writing days. But we write. We give each other praise and comment, and if something is not too good, we also mention it.

I wrote to my sister in Oxford the other day telling her my latest plans and life events as they have occurred. She wrote back:

"It's so so good that you are getting out there doing the things you enjoy like writing and acting. You must enjoy every day of your life and not waste it. It's also good that you are gaining a larger circle of friends. It sounds like you are starting to settle in and make a life in Madrid."

And I was very taken aback by her words: starting to settle. I guess I must be settling in. I just hadn't realized it yet.

This week and last week, I have been cramming for a Spanish television exam. About 18 000 people are applying for 200 jobs. No don't be shocked, this is quite normal in Spain. 1 job= 3 000 applicants. I have had to cancel my acting classes and the writing sessions. Creativity zero.

Except for the blog.

Once the exam is over, I'll start writing again. There is this small Mexican drama developing in my head since March. I have not given it much thought lately, though it grows and grows. In fact, what grows the most is the anxiety of not writing it. Surely a good sign?

Goodbye Blair hello Camer...oops, I mean, Brown!

AOG, Madrid

Yesterday, Tony Blair resigned from his post as Prime Minister of the UK. Here in Madrid, and in most of the European press, the headline is "Where next for Mr. Blair?". Hardly anyone is interested in the who, what, when, where and whys of Gordon Brown.

Although no one is saying it very loudly yet, there is a growing feeling that Mr. Brown's time in Downing Street will be brief. It might be bright, it might be great, but it will probably be short-lived too. It isn't so much that he lacks charisma, which he does, it is just that David Cameron, the Torie leader, exudes it from every pore.

He looks like a Prime Minister, he sounds like a Prime Minister, and, most of all, in a country obsessed with class, Mr. Cameron looks very upper class, or at least, upper class enough to be a sort of British Kennedy, something the Blairs never quite got around doing. He is referred to as belonging to the Notting Hill set. And we all know Notting Hill is very chic and well to do.

They were Cool Britannia, Cameron is more Eaton Britannia. Mr. Brown, in spite of an amorous tryst with a Romanian princess at University, is more Lady and the Tramp than Roman Holiday. He's more....I don't know...Coal Miner Britannia? Cameron is the Kennedy's Camelot, and Brown...well...the West End's Spamalot.

Will this make him a bad Prime Minister? Probably not, but it would appear that the British electorate, in line with most Western democracies, vote 40% on policy, 60% on looks and appearance. Even if they would never admit to it.

Nonetheless, there seems to be a, slightly incestuous Cabinet in the making. These are some of the highlights:

David Miliband, the young 41-year-old Environment Secretary who decided not to challenge Mr Brown for the Labour leadership, is tipped for a big promotion to Foreign Secretary, taking over from Margaret Beckett, who was reluctant to leave the Foreign Office. He even has a blog.

His even younger brother, Ed, 37, will head the Cabinet Office, which will have an enhanced role. They will be the first brothers to sit in the same Cabinet since 1929, when half-brothers Austen and Neville Chamberlain served in a Tory government.

Ed Balls, the Treasury minister and Mr Brown's closest political ally, will become the cabinet minister responsible for schools and children in a split Department for Education and Science. A separate cabinet minister will take charge of higher education and science. A husband-and-wife team will sit round the cabinet table for the first time. Mr Balls will be joined by Yvette Cooper, the Housing minister. Is this good for democracy?

It will not matter much. I doubt Mr. Brown will win the next election. After all, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, he has made Britain’s economy stronger. Alas, the poor are poorer and the rich richer. But I will say something in his favor. It appears he is about to pull a Sarkozy and give Jack Straw a Cabinet post.Well done Mr. Brown. This is a type of progress.

Will Cameron change this? He looks like he might. And in this media age, looks are everything. Right?

Rainy evening thoughts 2007

AOG, Madrid

I haven't blogged in a while. I'm blogging today because it is raining in Madrid. And we are in June. Last year, it rained very little here, and I missed the rain a lot. This year, it has rained much more.

I live on the fourth floor of a narrow street in central Madrid. Because my window (my only window) faces the street, I can hear the sound cars make as they drive over the wet streets. I love that sound. Almost poetic. Perhaps a little trance-like too. I know it from childhood. I find it comforting. It always means cool air. I even find it romantic. I don't know what it is about rain that I find romantic. But I do.

Tonight's rain has ensured that the sounds of people having a good time on the street are not as prominent as they normally are; one of the (small) drawbacks of living in a trendy neighborhood. Sometimes, at 3 and 4 am, I can hear drunken (and not so drunken) people walking and talking down my street. They laugh, make noise. In short, in Spain, other people's right to sleep comes below your right to make a ruckuss on the street at any time of the day or night. Something of a birthright I guess.

My flat in London was in a very quiet street, and it faced on all sides unto a courtyard. If something bothered me there, it was the sound of helicopters flying overhead, or ambulances and police sirens. Same as here. But there, people are more respectful of other people's right to live in quiet.

Still, today, I welcome the rain. It helps to cool down some of my anger and anxiety. I have been told that this year, my chances of going away on holiday are nil. Zip, zilch, zero. It is not so much that mind working, I don't at all, but I do feel, for the first time, that I'm being robbed of the opportunity to go, see and experience something new. This is what really hurts. Being robbed of this chance. I love traveling. But not this year.

A week or two ago, a friend from High School back in San Antonio, wrote asking if I was going to fly over for the 20 year reunion. How many years since 1988? Yes, twenty. I told her I probably would not go, though last time it was ok. Her and I rekindled our friendship and have remained internet friends since, though I had not heard from her in about 5 or 6 years.

Her life, on paper, looks good. Though she has had her ups and downs. With some luck, we might meet up here in Madrid next year. I am in no mood to go to Texas just yet.

I do miss those texan sunsets though...

The modern world strikes again

AOG, Madrid

I have just heard on Spanish radio the story of a woman in New Zealand who has died after her electricity company, Mercury Energy, turned off the power to her home because the light bill had not been paid.

The woman in question was connected to an electric oxygen pump to breathe, and although her family tried to stop the power being switched off, the engineer who had been called out only responded that he had to do his job.

It is reported that he even went inside the house to see the situation for himself. And that he switched the power off anyway. This strikes me as completely inhuman, though I don't have all the facts and, as they say, there are two sides to every story. Nonetheless, I can't help but wonder about what was going through that man's head when he carried out his orders.

Here is a link to the story as told in Australia. Not many European papers carry the story yet. It is only 13:12 right now. It may change.

According to her family, she owed Mercury Energy 168.40 New Zealand dollars (US$122).

Folole Muliaga, 44, a schoolteacher with four children aged 5 to 20, had been off work since February with an illness and fell behind in her payments to Mercury. Her husband had taken time off from work to care for her.

The company are said to be "devastated by the woman's death and was conducting its own investigation to determine what happened", according to Mercury Energy's general manager, James Moulder.

Well, what do they think happened?

And already, modernity has begun to exude impunity left, right and center:

Auckland University professor of law Bill Hodge said manslaughter charges could potentially could be filed, depending on what information Mercury Energy had and how it was expressed to them.

Well, how does Professor Hodge think Mercury Energy were informed? Smoke signals? And what information does he think the company will admit to having if this goes to court?

Unfortunately, by this weekend, this poor woman's death will be old news. Until the next time something like this happens.

Once again, a life has fallen by the wayside in humanity's attempt to reach complete modernity. What's a life when faced with corporate greed, inhuman call centers, robotic taped messages. In order to better the lives of our species, we have lost the human touch completely.

Once our species achieves modernity, will there be anyone of us left to see it?

Spy Vs Spy, or how the KGB are still among us

AOG, Madrid

Russia and the UK are at present involved in a diplomatic imbroglio concerning the fate of Andrei Lugovoy.

Britain has urged Russia to comply with its legal request for Andrei Lugovoy, a former Russian agent, to be extradited to the UK to be charged with the murder of former spy Alexander Litvinenko as soon as possible.

"Russia should comply with our legal request," Prime Minister Tony Blair's official spokesman said.

The spokesman stressed that Britain had important political and economic ties with Russia but said: "This doesn't in any way obviate the need for the international rule of law to be respected and we will not in any way shy away from trying to ensure that happens in a case such as this."

Nonetheless, Russia has declined to help. According to the Russian Prosecutor-General's office, Russia will not extradite Andrei Lugovoy to Britain on charges of murdering former KGB agent Alexander Litvinenko last year.

"Under the constitution of the Russian Federation Russian citizens can not be handed over to foreign countries for prosecution and Lugovoy appears to be a Russian citizen" the source said.

Yuri Chaika, Russia's prosecutor general, said last December that any trial of a Russian ciizen must take place in Russia, and that arrests of Russians by British police officers would be "impossible" under the Russian constitution. Russia may also point to its demand for the extradition of the London-based exile Boris Berezovsky over the oligarch's calls to overthrow President Vladimir Putin.

Nonetheless, the UK insists.

Britain told Russia today that it expected full cooperation after British prosecutors announced they would charge Lugovoy with the murder of former Russian spy Alexander Litvinenko.

"This was a serious crime. We are seeking and expect full cooperation from the Russian authorities in bringing the perpetrator to face British justice. These points were made strongly to the Russian ambassador when he was called in to the Foreign Office today," Foreign Secretary Margaret Beckett said in a statement.

Unlikely as it may seem, the EU appears to be behind the UK on this one, an odd yet certainly welcomed event. The German chancellor, Angela Merkel, present chair of the union's rotating presidency, criticised Putin over human rights - including the disruption of opposition demonstrations in an EU-Russia summit last week.

Just another thursday with rain...

AOG, Madrid

Went to Madrid University to see about a course. Huge campus. Rain. Not many street signs. Got drenched. Achieved little. Came home tired and wet.

A colleague at work poured his heart out concerning another co worker. Love was in the air, but it came to nothing. I feel for both. By the way, who died and made me cupid?

Wonderful article about Obama. Wonderful in that it talks about something, it would appear, no one is allowed to talk about...unless they are black.

Weekend in London

AOG, London

I flew into London last Saturday and I have spent a couple of days here now. I fly back in a few hours. I am at odds as to how best explain what I have felt in London this time around. It was my sister's birthday last Tuesday and we all met for gifts & dinner on Sunday. Although short, it was very enjoyable. As per usual, the Texas Embassy proved very welcoming.

I had a lovely time all around and the next day, Monday, the Gods of good weather shone on London like they tend to do once in a blue moon. It was a glorious day, as the locals like to say. Sunny, not warm, but, unfortunately, laden with tree pollen all over the place. Juan and I spent most of the day in Notting Hill and walking around Portobello Road.

We dropped in on a few shops and then had lunch around 3 pm in a... espèce de Bistrot off Portobello Road which didn't serve beer, and didn't have public toilets. Alas, the food was very good.

We then took the number 23 bus which kept passing by all during our lunch incessantly. 45 minutes later, we were in Soho. We got tickets to see Avenue Q (soon to be turned into a post!). Then we visited HMV, KFC and took a taxi home. It was getting late.

Now, in retrospect, I admit that being in London was mostly a good experience. Was I homesick? No, not really. Was it good to be back? Not necessarily, but I admit that it was good to be here. Does that make sense? I don't know. But that is how I felt all throughout this weekend.

I think, perhaps, I am beginning to see London as a weekend destination, and not as ex home. I did ask Juan (perhaps foolishly) if he would like to live in London. A questioning "No?", was the answer. I'm not sure why I asked. I, perhaps, unconsciously, toyed with the idea of going back, but I think this is because not a whole lot is going on in Spain that I like right now- though that is not to say all is bad, all is, well, moving along slowly and I am feeling a bit lost sometimes.

It has been over a year since I moved there, and perhaps now it is starting to sink in. Perhaps not. Not sure yet. I have been a bit down concerning my employment future there. And suddenly, I remembered that I used to work in the UK, and got a strange feeling of security from that.

Isn't it amazing how the mind will selectively play with our memories and desires, mixing both to produce a prerequisite (and always nicely nostalgic) feeling? I walked around London with a nice feeling all day Monday. And then today I have managed to remember a few (not all) of the reasons why I left London in the first place. And a joke I heard in Spain a while back came to mind.

THE JOKE...

A group of dead people are given a tour of Hell whilst they are in Purgatory. They see people having fun, loads of sinning going on, sunny beaches, in short, it looks like a blast. When their time in Purgatory is over, they all ask to be sent to Hell. Once there, they are shackled, sent into the fire of the bottomless pit, roasted alive, they feel pain, sorrow, etc. After a while, one of them asks an orderly demon about what is happening. "It all looked like such fun! What is going on?" The demon replied, "Well, of course, you realise that holidays are one thing, and inmigration quite another!".

Indeed. I think these last couple of days I forgot this. Funny that.

Keeping your Yum Yum covered

AOG, Madrid

I came across this witty video today. I thought I would share it with my "reader." I thought it was hilarious...but of course, you might not.

Enjoy!



How did I come across this? Well,today Madrid was drenched in Spring rain. Not a complaint, merely an observation. One more observation...1979?? yeah right!

The secret of their salary

AOG, Madrid

April has been a funny month in Madrid. One day it is hot enough to inaugurate the “shorts” season, and the next it rains. Is this global warming?

Since January, I have been doing an internship at SER radio. Normally I started at three and left at ten PM. I have been re-allocated to the morning shift: eight to three PM. I find myself with a lot of free time in the afternoons. It has only been three days, but already I’m finding it a bit hard to adjust. It is difficult going to bed before midnight, though, surprisingly, it is relatively easy to wake up early. Go figure.

Last week, I watched a program called “Tengo una pregunta para usted” (I have a question for you), in which 100 regular people (referred to as citizens in the news), ask a politician a question.

The first guest was Spain’s Prime Minister, Señor Zapatero. His program did not go all that well. Some complained he had not had the opportunity to watch the show beforehand, unlike the leader of the opposition, Señor Rajoy. Out of the whole show, the only question which stuck out in people’s minds was the one where Señor Zapatero is asked the price of a cup of coffee. “It depends where you go but I would say normally about 80 cents” he replied. The media had a field day. It is true that in Spain’s parliament, subsidised coffee is 80 cents. But not in the real world.

However, Señor Rajoy also hade his Waterloo on television when he was asked his salary by a woman who lives on a monthly 300 Euros pension. His first reply was “Huh??” and then he declined to answer, though he assured her two things:

1- (humbly) he earned considerably more than her.

2- He was working hard to ensure that everyone’s pensions were improved.

Hard to believe from a man who has spent his entire time in the opposition fighting the Government at every opportunity, and then some.

Anyway, next day at work most people were siding with his actions. “The poor woman would have felt very uncomfortable if he had told her how much he made” was the reply I heard from most (though not all) people. Funny how it is quite customary in Spain to think of other people as being of less than average intelligence. I asked myself a few questions during that day- a day in which the press had another field day revealing the salaries of Spain’s top politicians, one after the other (even Señor Rajoy’s, who to this day continues to avoid saying how much he makes a month!).

I asked myself if most people think this woman would indeed be amazed to hear that Señor Rajoy makes over 9,000 Euros per month (he receives 2 salaries, one as a member of Spain’s Parliament and the other as leader of his party). I wondered why so many people were reluctant to talk about salaries ( I have since learned that in Spain- like in the UK-, salaries are private), and especially Señor Rajoy. After all, did he really believe for a second that the press would not reveal how much he made? After all, as a politician, his salary is public information.

I fully understand that many would not like to reveal their income, but a politician whose salary is voted publicly in Parliament? Odd to say the least.

Many have said that he was trying to, not so much save face, but rather please everyone. His intervention in the show had a higher audience than Señor Zapatero’s.

I read that, after 2 politicians, the show’s producers are looking for their next guest. Could be a painter, an actor, a musician….I think the public will vote. I think I should like to see who goes up for scrutiny next.

April's little disasters

AOG, Madrid

Interesting month this. It would appear that the electronic Gods have it in for me. For those of you outside the UK, the Gods in questions hate me and are making me pay for something. What? No clue. It is a case of electronic karma gone haywire. This must be payback for some crime I must have comitted in a past life against some machine. I probably destroyed a wind-up clock in the XVII century or I burnt an expensive chinese sing-song or something. What has happened lately is definitely karma-related.

The month began with blackouts. At first I thought it was only at work, where, since the Popular Party decided to ban the Prisa group from all its public acts, we also thought we were the victims of electric terrorism. The power went out quite frequently a couple of weeks ago day after day. But when I got home, I realised that it was Madrid that was suffering these power shortages. When I got home, the TV, DVD, and the digital encoder were not working properly. I had to reprogram everything. The power had gone out at home too.

And then I thought that was that. Wrong-o-la!

Two weekends ago, I went to a wedding in Bilbao with Juan. Upon my return to Madrid, I discovered that my laptop, which was working perfectly before I left, was now out of order. As of today, it still is. The warranty covers some things, and does not cover some others. It does not cover software, and it looks like it is a software problem. Those of us who are uninitiated upon the mysteries of computers, could care less. The email machine is not working, that is all I know!

But it does not stop there. I was in Barcelona last weekend. I got back on Sunday evening. The home phone was not working. It is dead. As of today, it still is. My phone company, Jazztel, has not yet repaired the fault, whatever it might be.

Does it end there? Like heck! Yesterday, as I was drawing the curtains, the curtain pole fell off! I had to laugh. Just in case, I'm taking a train to Barcelona this weekend.