Why I love being a Journalist/Writer/Actor/Model/Waiter

AOG, Madrid

T0day I started, sort of, a new job (sort of job). I am with a news agency in Spain. Sort of. They don't really know how to take me on, either as an intern, or a freelancer. Or what.

But, to me, that is secondary.

This morning I showed up at work and went to cover the Anne Frank musical. Yes, it is odd for Spain to come up with this, but then, if the British can turn Les Miserables into a musical, then I suppose the Spanish can turn Anne Frank's diary into a musical.
We arrived at the Häagen-Dazs Theater in Madrid (don't ask, I don't know), and the director, or perhaps he was the musical director, was telling off a blond actress of age unknown for being late. She politely, yet defiantly, told him that other people had been late too. So, obviously, the problem was not the actors, it was the call sheet.

The director, or stage hand, or whatever he was, mentioned that that could not be the case. The actors had been late all throughout the rehearsals. And so it went on.
A few minutes later, a local television station was interviewing the blond actress who came down from the stage outraged at the way she had been treated. As soon as the camera went on, she switched on the charm. A true professional, I thought.

We were treated to two scenes from the play.

There I was, witnessing a press conference, thinking how this might be replayed for Tele-K's immigration program, my other (unpaid) job in Madrid. The angle being that the female lead is played by 13 year old Havana-born Cuban American Isabella Castillo, who flew all the way from Miami to play the part. The general consensus was that she was very pretty. Prettier than the real Anne. But then, this was theater, and not without controversy.

There were two, in fact: One, which the journalists were trying to create, concerning the two Anne Frank foundations (Basel and Amsterdam) one of which is not (untrue as it turned out) 100% happy with the musical.

The other, a question from the AP journalist concerning the producer's claims that this was the first musical based on Anne Frank. Incorrect. According to the journalist, and The New York Times, there is at least one other, "Yours, Anne", which was produced off Broadway in 1985. Then the journalist and the producer, Señor Alvero, began to discuss the difference between a musical, and a sung play. In short, the controversy was set.

And there I was. Day one and amazed and grateful for being able to be there, then.

Later in the afternoon, we went to cover the anti FARC demonstration in Plaza Mayor. It was mostly Colombian expats living in Madrid. A few Venezuelans, who were there to offer their support for Uribe, and their distate for Chávez, the odd camera-seeking individual (who, by the way, had me beckoned so as to shoot him and his daughter, which we did), and, most surprisingly, my International Journalism professor, M.A. Bastenier. I wanted to go and say hi, but I was working. So I couldn't. And in any case, he was busy telling the crowd how his heart was Colombian.

One of the participants quoted García Marquez, "We Colombians are born suspect, and we die guilty". How true of Colombians, unfortunately. Why do some nationalities have such negative connotations?

Half way through, they started singing a popular human rights folk song by Argentina's answer to Bob Dylan, Leon Gieco, "Solo le pido a Dios" (I only ask of God). It was very emotional.

And there I was, in the midst of it all, looking for camera angles, people to interview, story angles.

Then back to the office to edit, cut, write up the story, then go home.

And I so loved every minute of it.

Oh, yes, and I learned something new today.

There is no subway into Georgetown, in Washington D.C., because Jackie Kennedy opposed the idea. Something to do with social class and her finding public transport too low class for Georgetown.

Or so I was informed today by a work colleague who knows D.C. much better than I do.

Truth? Hearsay? Urban myth? Bad propaganda?

Heath Ledger is found dead

AOG, Madrid

Heath Ledger was found dead this afternoon in an apartment in Manhattan inhabited by the actress Mary-Kate Olsen, according to the New York City police.

A native of Perth, Australia, he won acclaim for his role as a co-star in Ang Lee’s 2005 film “Brokeback Mountain”. The film, based on a short story by Annie Proulx about two cowboys who fall in love, won critical acclaim.

The New York Times said of him in that movie: “Mr. Ledger magically and mysteriously disappears beneath the skin of his lean, sinewy character. It is a great screen performance, as good as the best of Marlon Brando and Sean Penn.”

Signs point to a suicide, police sources said. Mr. Ledger was 28.

I for one, am shocked.

Beggars, artists and Romanians

AOG, Madrid

Last Sunday, I went to a friend's birthday dinner. My improv teacher's boyfriend was hosting a dinner in honor of his turning 30. At least I think that's how old he was turning!

We ate Gnocchi with 2 sauces, and then played a few table games, not without absenting ourselves (Paula, Ana her friend and I) to buy some cigarettes and gossip a bit. Innocent gossip.

When we returned, after scouring the streets of northern Madrid in search of an open bar with a working cigarette machine, we got back to a group of men desiring to play Karaoke on the X-Box.

And so we did.

Afterwards, we did that very Spanish of things, we talked. For hours.

At one point we were discussing Madrid's beggars. How some of these people are part and parcel of the city, and how they have certain areas where they work.

The conversation was odd and peppered with strange protagonists. Some I had knowledge of; others, I had never seen. I had heard of the gypsy thalidomide woman with deformed arms and legs who sits on cardboard and displays herself in all her glory, expecting society to take pity on her.

Then there is the American black musician who plays the saxophone on Callao square, off Madrid's Gran Vía, and right in front of the FNAC store (famous for music, books, DVDs and electronic equipment). As you walk past, he will ask you for money, regardless of whether he is playing a tune or not. He just asks as you walk past. Odd I think.

Then there was the lady beggar who got up from her spot, started to walk up the street, then, stopped, shook her hips slightly, let drop a huge turd, then just continued on her way.

Her, I'd never seen. But I have encountered the small army of Romanian gypsies who pretend to be deaf mutes and walk around with a printed sheet of paper and ask (or rather gesture) for your money. They pretend to belong to an NGO.

They I find a little reprehensible since genuine NGOs carry out the same exercise and have to meet people who have already been fooled once. They have even been on the news a couple of times. And yet, you can see them in central Madrid daily. Pretending to suffer from a disability. Not nice. Not fair. But then, neither is their life probably...

So we continued to trade stories all night long, moving from people with mental problems, to those who hold no sway over the public´s minds.

Today, I was traveling home from giving a class, and saw a young guy doing some juggling at a traffic light. He didn't seem to be doing all that well. Perhaps drivers are not too keen to support struggling artists.

Last night, two of my dinner partners were discussing their life in Madrid. What they do on their spare time, and how spare time is of the necessity. One of them, the lead singer in the band, mentioned how he payed for singing lessons once a week- 38 Euros per hour.

He mentioned in passing that he was going to stop working at the hotel chain where he's been working as accountant for 2 years, and how he was entitled to 8 month's unemployment benefit. "And now, with more free time, I can concentrate more on my singing", he declared.

"If you are in Madrid, you always have to be doing something to further your career. You can't spend your life working in a bar. If you are going to do that, stay in your home town", said Ana- working actress.

I admired them both. I am always glad to be in the presence of talented people.

Then today, I was brought back down to earth when I saw the juggler. I wonder how many lawyers, or teachers or pilots have to moonlight to make their dreams come true?
Why is it that only artists are expected to do other jobs and work twice as hard as anyone else to carry out their vocation?

National Anthem

AOG, Madrid

A national anthem. A song which is somehow meant to represent the best that a country has to give but which often uses lyrics which are odd, warrior-like, poetic, or plain strange.

There is not a country on Earth which does not have one. However, there is one whose national anthem has no official lyrics. At least not at present. Spain.

Spain’s martial national anthem is based on a military march of the XVII century. It is known as the Royal March, and until the beginning of the XX century, had no lyrics (it is worth noting that the XIX century was disastrous for Spain, and this during a time when most of Europe defined nationalities had their heyday defining the modern states we have today).

It was up to King Alfonso XIII to change this state of affairs. He commissioned the poet Eduardo Marquina to come up with some lyrics. These, although not necessarily very popular, were the official words until Spain became a Republic, and the Himno de Riego became Spain’s national anthem.

At the end of Spain’s Civil War, General Franco reinstated the old National Anthem and commissioned José María Pemán (1897-1981) to come up with some lyrics. For better or worse, most Spaniards knew his version of the national anthem. However, with the advent of democracy, these were derogated and Spain’s anthem is an unsung affair.

And so it was until a couple of months ago when Spain’s Olympic Committee asked that some lyrics were written down so that Spain’s athletes could have something to sing at matches, and not just stand there silently humming or lah-lah-lahing the anthem away.

Legend goes that after witnessing a rousing rendition of You'll Never Walk Alone at Anfield in 2007, the President of the Spanish Olympic Committee, Alejandro Blanco, said he felt inspired to seek lyrics to La Marcha Real ahead of Madrid's bid to host the 2016 Olympic Games.

So a commission was set up and a national contest (sort of) went on to come up with lyrics. The result was meant to be introduced to all in a star-studded gala headed by Spain’s famous tenor, Placido Domingo.

Guess what happened….

The press got hold of the wining lyrics- written by unemployed Mr. Paulino Cubero (above), 52,- and everyone found them to be disappointing.

They were either not very poetic, too nationalistic and reminiscent of Franco's version. Or just had no literary value. They were supposed to be presented in Parliament and a vote was to be had on whether or not they were the new lyrics.

In short, a project intended to unite the country, backfired. Or rather, it worked, but not as you thought it would. It did unite the whole country in declaring the lyrics to be not only banal, but atrocious.

The foreign press have had a field day with this. The Guardian, The New York Times, even FT have noticed this new episode in Spain’s difficulty to be at ease with itself.

Finally, the Olympic Committee withdrew its request and said it would bring it up at a later, less acrid, time.

Strangely enough, no one has said a word about the tune itself.

No Golden Globes this year

AOG, Madrid

The Golden Globes have been canceled. Well, the ceremony at least. No parties, no make up, no show, no glitzy run-up to the Oscars.

The reason? The on-going writer's strike.

I have to admit that it is a pain, but, after all, I do support the right to strike by any group of workers. Used as I am to European strikes, however, where public workers ask for money to make a decent living, I find it hard to side with some writers who earn the kind of salaries a street sweeper in Europe will never see in his lifetime.

However, the right remains and it is not dependent on a certain amount of money, but rather on a job and its proper payment.

Will the same happen at the Oscar's?

I have chosen to post this image of Julia Roberts, who is nominated for Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Motion Picture for Charlie Wilson's War.

I find it beautiful as well as haunting.

Christmas and Doña Manolita

AOG, Madrid

Christmas is coming and Spain is in full swing. From my office window in Gran Via, I see the shops with their lights blinking, the people to-ing and fro-ing getting gifts for loved ones and making strolling a bit of a hazard.

As in the UK, I see here and there homeless people who no one seems to care about. No time for them.

On Gran Via, at number 31 since 1931, there stands one of Spain’s institutions: Doña Manolita’s, a lottery vending shop famous for having been the source of many of the winning tickets for Spain’s Christmas lottery, the largest on Earth. The other being the shop known as La Bruixa d'Or, or the Golden Witch, located, mysteriously, in the town of Sort (which means luck in Catalan), in Catalonia. People from all over Spain travel to Sort to buy a lottery ticket.

These places mystify the Spanish imagination. Here is a country where everyone wants to be wealthier than what they are. I suppose like everywhere else, only here, it seems to be more institutionalised than in other places.

From my window, I can see the long lines of hopeful buyers which stretch around the corner. Dozens of people who want to buy a lottery ticket.

Aside from the people in line, there are musicians who make the long wait a bit more agreeable. Aside from them, there are also a few homeless people and beggars who most people seem to ignore. It is odd watching people from all walks of life, wearing anything from sporty clothing to fur coats, all lining up to increase their wealth, and ignoring their fellow human beings begging.

Having said this, I don’t want to accuse anyone of having a hard heart. It is perhaps that in Spain, scams are all too frequent, and most Spanish people see only people who are trying to scam them, and not a social necessity. It is also true than, in Spain, people expect their Government to deal with things like beggars on the street, and that it, somehow, has nothing to do with them.

It is also true that many people in Spain give generously to charities and NGOs.

Nonetheless, I see these people lining up in the cold Madrid mountain air, hoping they win a few thousand euros this Christmas, and wonder why they appear to ignore the beggars. The homeless.

Streisand versus Winfrey

AOG, Madrid

What is the Democratic party trying to sell us? A return to a good past or a leap towards a better future?

The jury is still out.

On the "Obamaic" camp, the future is bright and we gotta wear shades. Color Purple shades. Somehow, our Senator from Illinois has managed to get Oprah Winfrey onboard. Ms. Winfrey, probably the best symbol forward-thinking middle America has, has decided, first time ever, to back a (audacious) politician.

Barely a day after Barack Obama's campaign announced Oprah will stump with their candidate next month comes word that Hillary Clinton has snared her own celebrity endorser.

On the "Gin & (Clin)tonic” camp, Hilary has Barbra Streisand by her side. Ms. Streisand, ever the eternal liberal, represents to many a return to a not-too-distant, happier past: the interregnum between the Bushes, shall we say.

The economy was booming, the Cold War was over. The US was not at war with anyone, and it was not about to let something as meaningless as the Ugandan Genocide, or Bosnia, shatter its prosperity.

Nonetheless, life was good, gas was cheap, and the whole Lewinski thing was a hoot.

So which way will the Democratic party turn? Will it audaciously leap forward towards a brighter tomorrow or will it hark back to ancient Clintonian times?

The political calculations will argue that some voters are dumb enough to vote for a celebrity-endorsed politician; after all, Washington is Hollywood for ugly people, as they say.

But, in what appears to be a close race, by listening to Winfrey or Streisand, people will stick around long enough to listen and/or learn about the candidate they endorse.

Looking for work with Martadona

AOG, Madrid

These days I find myself looking for work. CV's are being sent all over the Spanish universe as we speak.

Last night, my partner suggested I sent my cv on a CD. It was different. I am thinking about it.

Then along came Martadona...

And now I'm thinking about doing the same....

In case you are wondering, she sings about being a lawyer, then mentions her qualities and skills. She finishes by saying she'd like to work with you.

The kiss at the end is the best part.

Enjoy.

The fortunes of the King of Spain

AOG, Madrid

The King of Spain is very much in the news these days. Poor Juan Carlos has had a very rough year.

First, his daughter-in-law’s sister killed herself. Then, a few months later, some politicians began to demand that the Royal finances be audited.

Then, a satirical magazine (a bit more acidic than MAD, but along those juvenile lines), publishes a cover of Crown Prince Felipe doing his wife. A judge withdrew all copies from newsstands and sparked off a national debate regarding the image of the King, the Crown, and the Royal family. Most politicians did not back the judges move.

Later on, a few hooligans in Catalonia burnt a photograph of the King and a new debate started when a judge asked a photo journalist to turn in the negatives so as to prosecute the people who did the burning. Again, national outcry from some sectors regarding freedom of speech.

Then, a very popular right-wing radio network began to demand that the King step down and for Spain to turn into a republic.

As if that were not enough, the President of the Community of Madrid, asked the King publicly not to be too harsh on the main culprit over the airwaves, a certain Mr. Jimenez Losantos.

The King went on to ask publicly that the Royal family be respected by the media. The Spanish were slightly bemused, but the British were surprised that the King would do such a thing. Queen Elizabeth would not ever do that. But then again, the British Royals were not ousted from power in 1931 and Britain did not go through a Civil War 5 years later.

In a sort of PR coup, the Government decides to send to King to Ceuta and Melilla, two Spanish cities in North Africa bordering Morocco. What was meant to be an internal affair turned into a diplomatic crisis when Morocco withdrew its Ambassador from Madrid, and protested publicly accusing Spain of colonialism and equating the status of those two cities to Palestine.

But here things began to take a turn for the better. As has been many times the case, Africa proved to be a turning point in Spanish affairs.

The Royal couple’s tour of the cities was a great national success. The locals were head over heels with the King and Queen.

Then silence, and it appeared that things would turn to normal.

Wrong.

Along came the XII Summit of Iberoamerican leaders in Santiago, Chile.

As it came to a close, the Spanish Prime Minister suddenly found himself and his predecesor under verbal attack from the President of Venezuela, Hugo Chávez. Spain's President tried to defend his predecessor's Administration but the Venezuelan chief was not having it. He accused him of being a Fascist, etc etc etc. Basically, he was not allowing President Zapatero speak. Half way through this, King Juan Carlos flew of the handle and told Chávez to shut up.

Literally, what he said was "¿Por qué no te callas?" "Why won't you shut up?". The King was not happy, especially after Nicaragua's President Ortega went off about how Spanish investement in his country was bad, etc etc etc. The King got up and left, only coming back after Chilean President Bachelet asked him to.

Well, of course, it hit the headlines all over the Spanish-speaking world, and then some. Even the BBC carried the story. All through this week, President Chávez has been intent on continuing his diatribe against Spain, the King, the Spanish, basically, everyone and everything Spanish. Obviously his pride has been hurt.

He has accused the King of knowing there was going to be a Coup against him (ironic since Mr. Chávez himself staged 2 coups before being voted into power), he has accused the Spanish of cutting the Indian's throat to silence them (From Imperial Madrid the order was issued ....blah blah blah).

He has accused Spain of behaving like an imperialist power (maybe this is the only true thing he has said thus far), but nonetheless, it is the worst case of post-colonial tantrum I have seen in a while.

Needless to say, most Latin American leaders (who are as left leaning as Spain's premier), have come to the support of the King. Even Castro has not spoken out against Spain.

Ironically, Spain's opposition party have not, eventhough the man Zapatero was defending originally, ex president Aznar, a Bush ally, was from that party. He even called the President and (purportedly) the King, to thank them for their support. All very gentlemanly.

Nonetheless, Chávez has continued. The news hit that he was planning on syphoning off Venezuela's oil through Portugal.

As if things could not get worse for the King, his daughter (above) announced on Tuesday the 13th (as opposed to Friday the 13th, Tuesday is the unlucky day in Spain), his daughter Princess Elena announced that she and her husband the Duke of Lugo, were separating.

On a brighter note, after this Spanish "annus horribilis", the whole Chávez incident has made the King quite popular in Spain once again.

For the first time ever, a Spanish person defended a fellow citizen in an international forum.

I think, long term, it will be good for Spain. Hopefully, for Venezuela too...

Lions for lambs

AOG, MadridRobert Redford's new movie seems to draw a slight parallel with Alejandro González Iñárritu's Babel. Both films share a triangular storyline which is drawn to a centrifuge by a common thread.

It is certainly beautifully filmed, the SX are good enough, and the plot, or plots, are nihilistic which is a welcome change in American cinema. Well, not all plots, this is an American film after all, and, although we are not served a happy ending on a platter, we are instead given a slice of hope, which is very much in line with the movie's feel.

A political story, it seems to reflect current thinking in the US regarding America's War on Terror campaign. If the film is to be seen as a catalyst for America's pulse, then we can assume that the end of the NeoCons is near, and that enough people have begun to question the status quo vis a vis the country's complacency with the post 9-11 world and recent propaganda.

Tom Cruise plays a character who is close to his last bad-guy character in Collateral. He is well in his way to becoming the next Mel Gibson or Kevin Costner. Strong, single minded, and with projection and aspirations, he fits the job description rather well.

Meryl Streep is surprisingly good as a journalist who has a sudden turn of heart. I say surprising, because the character is a feeble yet intelligent woman who finds herself enmeshed in a moral dilemma. Although the character is not beyond Streep's acting capabilities, she does an amazing turn with it and comes up trumps. Once again she proves what an amazing acting range she has and we are grateful for it.

Robert Redford, who also directs the film, is very middle ground in this film. A combination of Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society and Sean Connery in Finding Forrester, he comes across as slightly lost in the character. It lives in his head, but he does not fully bring it out.

We are never fully aware of his motives, only of the fact that he feels he has failed somewhere along the line, though neither he, nor us, get to find out why. Special mention must go to his eyebrows which for some odd reason are dyed a darker shade than the rest of his hair.

All in all, the movie will probably be nominated and win an Oscar or two, and it will be well deserved. You will not be bored and, surprise surprise, it may even make you think.

If nothing else, it will help many to think about the current political situation in Iraq, Afghanistan, and the US.