Second post of the day . . .

Yesterday’s regional elections have changed Spain’s political landscape quite significantly. Here in Galicia, the local BNG nationalist party has certainly lost its position of power after the defeat of the coalition between it and the PSOE socialist party. And up in the Basque Country the – rather larger – nationalist PNV party might well be out of power after a couple of decades or more, once all the other parties manage to come together in a massive – and possibly unworkable – coalition.

Galicia’s papers overflow today with impressively-immediate analysis and commentary. The return to government of the right-of-centre PP party is universally seen as a surprise. And I guess that, both relative to the polls of the last month and in light of the record high turn-out which normally favours the Left, it must be counted as a shock. But, as with the financial crisis, if all the reasons now given for it were as obvious before the event as they are now, the really surprising thing is that, as far as I know, no one had the courage to predict it. Reasons adduced this morning include the sort of thing I’ve occasionally touched on here - resentment at the Xunta’s divisive language policies, the bloody-minded arrogance of the minority nationalist partner in the coalition and the willingness of the majority socialist partner to allow it to dictate policies that could only ever appeal to a small minority of voters. As one commentator wrote – and as I’ve claimed in my own regard – not all Gallego-supporting Galicianists are Nationalists. I could write more but, firstly, it’s probably boring and, secondly, I’ve mislaid my notepad.

Coming right down to street level . . . The Spanish word civismo is translated as ‘sense of civic responsibility’ or ‘public spiritedness’. I’ve occasionally noted that, while the Spanish can be the most affable, the most sociable and even the most noble people on the planet, civismo is a quality which is often conspicuous by its absence here. This is because it runs counter to the national trait of individualismo. It’s true that a Spaniard will treat you royally if he or she is aware of your existence but, failing this, you often don’t count. I’m reminded of this by a surprise article in one of the local papers here which carried a photo of a car parked across three parking bays down by the river. The driver is accused of “A total lack of civismo and of respect for others.” And the writer adds that “As usual the grua [tow truck] was not in evidence and was not expected to be.” As it happens, I’ve been compiling an album of such inconsiderate parking practices over the past few months and must post it one day. But I think we’ve had quite enough pix for this week.

But talking of photos . . . I posted one on Saturday of the rubbish outside the new Burger King place after Friday’s revels. I read today that it’s been closed down for not having a licence either for change of use or for the works involved in converting it from a private café into a public burger bar. Which is not now open to the public. Temporarily, at least. Spain is a wonderful place but sometimes it’s also Wonderland.

Finally – Yet another town hall corruption case. As I’ve said before, there’s been so many of these that one wonders what the unlucky few have to do to trigger their arrest. Boast of it? Anyway, one of the more interesting observations on the victory of the PP here yesterday is that it rather proves how little the Galician voters care about the corruption scandal which has enveloped the party in Madrid. As if we didn’t know. In fact, I doubt that they’d care much about it if it were in their own backyard. At least, not during ‘fat cow’ years. But we might be on the cusp of a change.

A Spanish blogger recently quoted my oft-stated view that life in Spain is more sane than in the UK. This morning I was stimulated by an article in a British newspaper to the thought that, whereas Spain still has its soul, the UK seems to have lost the one it had when I was rather younger. And not yet found another one. But then it struck me that, given the nationalist aspirations of several regions here, it might be more accurate to say that Spain has not one but several souls. Some of which might well fly off during the decades to come. If Madrid and Brussels allow it.

Talking of respective cultures, my younger daughter commented over our Sunday squid lunch that I behaved in a rather Spanish way when I was in the UK. She was, I'm sure, referring to my driving. Especially as she added "When in Rome, do as the Barbarians." This wasn't, of course, a comment on the Spanish as a people. Or at least not on the vast majority who don't drive like imbeciles.

If you were sitting in an airport this morning and picked up the Voz de Galicia, you might have wished you hadn't. The first eight pages were all about flight disasters. And there was a chart showing which airlines most frequently disregarded safety regulations. The worst was said to be Air Plus Comet. As my elder daughter had just switched from this company to BA for a Christmas flight to Argentina, I was able to read this with rather more equanimity than might otherwise have been the case.

Galicia

With the regional elections probably closer than we think, the conservative PP seems to be aiming to attract back those voters who deserted to the socialist PSOE four years ago and who might not be over-happy about the way things have since gone under the socialist-nationalist coalition. In an interview in El País today, the President of the Galician PP is quoted as saying "In Galicia, we're facing the start of a language conflict which could take hold of [enquistarse] certain layers of society and make a deep impression on [calar] them." The President of the nationalist BNG must have had advance notice of these gnomic utterances for, at a folk music event yesterday, he got his defence in first. He accused those who say Spanish is being persecuted in Galicia of dealing in a sort of linguistic racism which won't be tolerated. I'd better quote this for those who write to say I don't know diddly squat about Gallego - Unha sorte de racismo linguístico que non estamos dispostos a tolerar. He went on to say that supporting traditional song and dance customs was the best defence against those responsible for starting 'false language wars'. Which had me thinking of battalions of English Morris dancers going up against the Scottish hordes.

But on to less weighty matters . . . I recently mentioned the three brothels in my barrio of Poio, just along the main road through what is regarded here as Columbus's birthplace. Well, I had reason to drive past these yesterday, in search of something to ride. Specifically, a mountain bike. So, I snapped all of them for your delectation.

The first one you come to is Erotika, which plays a little fast and loose with the unwritten rule that these places must either be painted pink or have flashing neon signs in this colour. It used to be called Le Clé, which was presumably somebody's attempt to give it some French class.

A few hundred metres down the road, there's a hugely-signposted turn to the nearby Motel Venus. Which also pays only lip service to the colour rules. Notice the little window, where - as I saw - one stops to pay before they open the gate into the car park. This has the statutory high walls around it so that no one can recognise your car. Though I suspect few people would care in this culture of acceptance of whatever goes. It's good to see the place is flying the Galician, Spanish, European and [?]Italian flags. Perhaps there was a delegation in town.

And here's the sadly named The Factory Girls, which used to be The Xanadu. And, before that, The Playboy Club . For reasons unknown, this place completely ignores the rule about colour. Incidentally, there's no reason to believe it has anything to to do with the chap who owns the bar next door, just because he's a Liverpool supporter. In fact, I know it doesn't.


Incidentally, last week a truck drove into the wall of the Erotika club. Possibly a dissatisfied customer. Luckily, the air-conditioning unit wasn't damaged. Which must have been a relief to the ladies working there.


Finally . . . Down at the roundabout near A Barca bridge, you have the option to use a slip road to the right when you want to drive through Poio. Or you do if there isn't a car parked on it. Or five cars yesterday. As you can see, this can also involve blocking a zebra crossing.


Don't you just love that Spanish individualismo . . .

Blogger David Jackson - who lives down in Andalucia - recently vented his spleen at the use of Gallego as the default language for tourism sites. One can certainly empathise with him while still finding his headline - Eh? Galician? That's not a language! - rather provocative. Naturally enough, it prompted a thread which was both illuminating because of the exchanges between David and [another Brit?] Axe Grinder and depressing because of the sheer volume of invective spewed out by angry Gallegos and others. I did, of course, refer to an apparent Spanish fondness for personal abuse yesterday but, when I was researching something else this afternoon, I came across these comments in John Hooper's book "The Spaniards". The stresses are mine:- The characteristic that the Spaniards themselves are most aware of is their 'individualismo'. By this they don’t mean what Anglo Saxons mean by ‘individualism’, i. e. something like eccentricity. They mean self-centredness. Their traditionally egotistical outlook on life helps to explain two of the recurring themes in Spanish history – their reluctance to sacrifice any part of their own interests to the common good and their intolerance of other people’s views. The 'individualismo' of the Spaniards is still one of their most obvious traits. But the vindictive edge to it is progressively less evident.

Anyway, here is but one example of what I'm talking about, on the [retaliatory] question of whether English is a language. Sadly, the author vitiates his [essentially correct] opinion by larding it with gratuitous abuse:- Is English really a language? No, it is not. It is just a creole, a mixture of two dialects: a Germanic dialect spoken only by barbarian and rustic people (Old Saxon) and the pathetic Latin dialect spoken by the Normans (some sort of extremely corrupted French, which, in turn, is another extremely corrupted form of Latin spoken by another barbarian tribe, the Francs). In fact, during the Norman domination of England, the Germanic dialects were about to disappear completely in favour of, let’s call it, "French". When "English" was (re)imposed as the language of the Kingdom, it was already an ineffable creole, as it is today, more similar to spitting than to actual speaking. Of course, he's wrong that English was [re]imposed but this is hardly his main point. Which is not only that English is a bastard language [true] but also horrible to listen to [a matter of opinion]. I'm guessing this is because he's heard someone on the radio say "Khello. Khave joo khad any Khome English classes jet?"

For those who speak Spanish or Gallego, there are [?]better examples in the thread. Trawling through them, I had to marvel once again at the vast range of personal insults favoured by those Spanish contributors who seem to think hurling these is equivalent to putting forward an eloquent counter-argument. Amidst all the vitriol the word 'troll' popped up several times, giving the impression this is a Spanish favourite. Though it's not yet recognised by the Royal Academy. I wonder if it has this degree of celebrity in the Anglo bit of the blogosphere. And I also wonder whether Hooper was right to suggest vindictiveness is less evident in Spain these days. But perhaps it's just on the internet that it isn't.

Which, naturally, takes us back to the racism storm of the last week . . . In an article about some Argentinean athletes showing their affection for the Chinese by making the famous slant-eyed gesture, there appeared this comment about this:- The rows sparked by the [Spanish] photos have highlighted how standards about the acceptability of racial stereotyping vary widely between countries, even in the West. Much of the criticism of the Spanish teams has come from the English-speaking blogosphere, prompting complaints from Spain about alleged Anglo-Saxon hostility to Madrid’s 2016 Olympic bid. Actually, there were also suggestions the row had been manufactured to help the US basketball team against its Spanish opponents last Saturday. But anyone watching the game and noticing the margin between them might well have concluded this conspiracy lacked a certain plausibility.

News today of how the economic crisis is hitting home. And away:-
1. According to El País, the number of buyers backing out of purchases of new property developments and forfeiting their deposits is causing new problems for cash-strapped developers, and
2. A spokesperson for the prostitutes' collective, Hetaira, has said working girls are complaining about the lack of clients as the slowdown reduces the number of men availing themselves of their services.

Quote of the Olympic Week

The Russian pole-vaulter proved that she is more than just a chick on a stick.

Galicia

The Galician National Block [BNG] must believe the rumours that the socialist president of the Xunta is about to announce that - 'in the interests of Galicia' - he's going to call the elections for this autumn rather than next spring. For it's taken the pre-emptive step of issuing what amounts to its manifesto without notifying its socialist partner in government. I'm on record as predicting the BNG will see its 18% share of the vote fall and it looks as if we won't have long to wait to see if this is accurate or not.

Hats off to the honorary Gallego, Amancio Ortega, who set up his first Zara shop in A Coruña twenty years ago and has just steered it past its major rival Gap. Whoever they are. Ortega is said to be a shy, humble workaholic. So he must have been outstanding even before he started Zara. I'd guess he's not vindictive either.

Well, it's gone the middle of August and I've yet to receive any mail. Which tends to substantiate the formal complaint of the residents of my Poio barrio that all the staff of the local post office go on vacation at the same time. Worse, the guys who collect the rubbish have gone out on strike. Which is not a good thing at the height of summer in a place where a lot of fish and seafood is consumed. I only have the bottle and paper bins outside my front door but I may have to move up-country for a while. Especially if the wind changes.

My younger daughter - the weather jinx - arrives on Thursday. Needless to say, it's forecast to rain all day. I daren't look at the prediction for Friday and beyond.

According to various sources, house prices are falling here. Which would certainly be a logical response to a massive oversupply of property, rising mortgage rates and a credit crunch. The Spanish government, however, insists they're rising, albeit at the low annual rate of 2% to the end of June. But, to quote Mark Stucklin again,"The problem with the Housing Ministry’s figures is that nobody believes them. A recent article by a Reuters writer sums it up well. 'I don’t know their methodology, but quite honestly the official statistics are no use to me. They don’t reflect reality.'” One wonder where else there are slips twixt cup and lip.

I decided this morning to personalise my Google News and chose Spain for my International Section. So it was a tad surprising to be given an item on Ecuador as the lead article. Perhaps the Google folk - or their spider-bot - think that, if the source article is in Spanish, it must relate to Spain. More on Google's deficiencies later . . .

As part of its Guardian-admired energy campaign, the Spanish government is giving every household a couple of long-life bulbs. So I was interested in a letter in El Pais at the weekend suggesting that, if one follows the rather common practice of switching them off and on, then they actually don't last as long as ordinary bulbs. Best to leave them on, the writer suggested. Can this really be true? Or is it an urban myth?

Spanglish: Seeing the expression una fabrica de chopped [a factory making 'chopped'] in a cartoon, I went on the net to find out what it could mean. Any chopped meat, apparently. Though - ever the stickler - the dictionary of the Spanish Royal Academy has it down as Chóped [From the English 'chopped']: A sausage similar to the mortadella. So, now you know. And mortadella is defined in Chambers as:- 'A large smoked sausage made of beef, pork, and pork fat and seasoned with pepper and garlic'.

Your guess is as good as mine but someone arrived at this blog last night searching for mastodonic tits.

Galicia Facts

Madrid has announced plans to privatise Spanish airports. The immediate reaction of the President of the Galician Nationalist Party was naturally to suggest the three here should come under the control of the Xunta. Which rather misses the point, I feel. Still, it might get him a few votes in the upcoming elections. So, who can blame him? He's possibly been taking lessons from the doyen of divisiveness, Alex Salmond of the Scottish Nationalists. Though as a long-standing expert in victim-ness, he might not have needed them.

Much as I love the place we've bought up in the hills behind Pontevedra, it would be an exaggeration to say our neighbours have taken steps to make us welcome. But their dogs certainly have. In fact, the three chained up in our nearest neighbours' yard welcome us each time we drive past. And sometimes even welcome us throughout the night. Or at least until the cockerel gets up and takes over. As you can imagine, we are now very fond of them.

Of course - given that the dogs respond to any noise - it's not their fault that they bark at, say, one-thirty in the morning, if this is the time chosen by your neighbour to do a spot of drilling and hammering. And I thought Tony was noisy and inconsiderate!

Finally, if you want to know something about the white wine of southern Galicia - and the women who make it - click on this WSJ article. It comes to me me - by the way - from this week's Google Alerts for Galicia. Which once again fails to pick up my blog . I fancy they are beginning to overreach themselves . Sell now.

The slogan on the side of the victorious Spanish team’s open-top bus in Madrid yesterday was Impossible is nothing. I’m guessing what was meant was Nothing is impossible. If so, you’d think they could have afforded to pay a proper translator.

Going back to Sunday’s final – It was nice to see the goalkeeper – Iker Casillas [‘Cass-ee-arse’ to at least one British commentator] – ignoring protocol to hug the king and kiss the queen. Can’t see Lizzie tolerating such lèse majesté. Even less Prince Philip.

Last word on the footie – Reader Sienna has posted an interesting comment to yesterday’s blog on the link between football and sex in Spain. Or, rather, the lack of it. Well worth a look.

Absolutely the last word on the footie – Spanish fans on Sunday apparently made a lot less noise than the Germans. At least until towards the end. For one thing, there were rather fewer [not ‘less’!] of them. For another, the Spanish are said to lack a tradition of singing songs in unison at matches. Am I stretching things to see this as yet another example of Spanish individualismo?

There’s been a bit of a controversy in recent months over a decision to scrap cheaper overnight electricity. You know you’re dealing with a de facto monopoly when your provider not only completely ignores your concern over this but also announces that it’s, firstly, significantly increasing your unit cost and, secondly, moving to monthly billing. All that said, my impression is the price increases are less than those in the rather freer and more competitive UK market. So I guess the government is providing subsidies. As well as effectively taking all the decisions.

Talking of socialist governments, I read that, both in Venezuela itself and in South America as a whole, President Chavez is losing key support. Which makes it all the more odd that this madman has been invited to visit Spain by President Zapatero. Perhaps he will save governmental blushes by finding he has prior engagements. And other priorities. Saving his skin, for example.

Galicia Facts

Picking up the theme of the first paragraph . . . One of the brochures I collected yesterday was for Sports and Active Tourism in Pontevedra province. On the front cover there’s a picture of a racing yacht and the slogan Come and treat yourself to being swept away. Which is an enticing thought. Inside, you’re introduced to the sports - new to me - of Bugee Jumping and Sky Bus (also known as banana). No wonder the covers stresses that Pontevedra is an ExCitIng Province. With, as you know, the cheapest flats of all Spain in its capital city.

I amused the waitresses in my regular café-bar yesterday by suggesting I was planning to adopt one of the ludicrous outfits featured in El Mundo as being fashionable. When I asked the head barman which one he favoured, he retorted ‘None of them. They all look like poufs to me!’ I have, of course, reported him to the relevant Spanish authority. Which I take to be the Ministress of Equality.

Finally – Was the European Championship such a feast of good football not only because the number of teams was limited but also because England weren’t there to dilute the quality of it? I only ask.

Reader Moscow recently said – quite correctly - that the British have to live with the reputation of being hypocrites. To my mind, this is less troublesome than the obligation to suffer the universal perception that the UK is overrun by ooliganes. So deep rooted is this belief in Europe that I read this morning of a Austrian women being concerned her beautiful city of Vienna would be invaded by rampaging English fans. Which is odd, considering the national team didn’t qualify for the European championships. [On this subject – Can anyone explain why the scorer of the first German goal last night wasn’t offside when he received the ball as 1. there was only the goalkeeper in front of him when the pass to him was made, and 2. the ball went forwards and not backwards?].

Waking into town this morning, it dawned on me that the best way to avoid ‘individualistic’ Spaniards who exit buildings without a care for those already on the pavement [sidewalk] is to walk one metre or so in from the building line. The amazing thing is that it’s taken me eight years to arrive at this solution to a regular irritation. A Spanish child, on the other hand, imbibes this sort of pragmatic commonsense in its mother’s milk.

One reason why this stratagem is easily effected in Pontevedra is that the mayor has spent the last decade narrowing the roads and widening the pavements. This means you could walk even two or more metres away from the building line and still be on the pavement. Though you might have to negotiate the delivery vans whose drivers believe these were widened simply to give them a place to unload deliveries. They should, of course, use the designated bays but you can probably guess why this is rarely possible.

Which reminds me . . . The other thing I saw walking into town was an example of the sort of taking-normal-Spanish-attitudes-to- extremes which makes the gypsies so unpopular here. Stuck behind five or six cars at the roundabout at my end of the bridge into town, the driver of a van simply crossed over the solid white line, overtook the cars by driving down the wrong side of the road and then forced himself across the oncoming traffic once at the junction. Having then negotiated the bridge at no greater speed than me on foot, he parked up on the other side by simply driving onto the pavement and occupying it entirely. My guess, though, is that he wouldn’t be prepared to thank the mayor for providing him with this free parking facility.

Galicia Facts

Reader Luis commented yesterday that the Galician Xunta would increase the payment to €500 if you called your child Anxel or Anxela. I guess this is because the President is so named but I’ve told Luis that I suspect his comment is either a trap for me or an example of the Galician humour called retranca. Or both, of course. Anyway, here’s a list of the most common Galician names for your edification. I can’t help noticing that Xoan doesn’t figure, presumably because Xan and Xian are the true authorised versions. Maybe you’d only get 250 for Xoan. By the way, the X is pronounced as ‘sh’:-

NOMES PROPIOS PARA NENAS [girls]: Antía, Ánxela, Branca, Carme, Catuxa, Dores, Erea, Icia, Iria, Ione, Ledicia, Mariña, Olalla, Sabela, Tareixa, Tegra, Uxía, Virxinia, Xema, Xiana, Xonxa e Xosefa.

NOMES PROPIOS PARA NENOS [boys]: Aleixo, Antón, Anxo, Bieito, Brais, Breixo, Breogán, Cibrán, Flavio, Fuco, Lois, Martiño, Nicolau, Paio, Roi, Telmo, Uxío, Xabier, Xacobe, Xan, Xesús, Xian, Xoel, Xosé e Xurxo.

As promised, here are the web pages of the other cities in Galicia. All of these offer Gallego, Spanish and English versions. And Santiago even has some pages in German and French. So this leaves only Pontevedra with a web page only in Gallego. Maybe they haven’t had time to do the translations yet:-
http://hoxe.vigo.org
www.santiagodecompostela.org
www.coruna.es
www.lugo.es
www.ferrol-concello.es
www.ourense.es

Finally - Every country in the world has things that are odd. Or to put this more accurately – things that folk from other countries find peculiar. Click here to have a butcher’s at a new site by John Chappell, of Iberian Notes, which features bizarre developments that intrigue him. A welcome addition to the blogosphere.

Sometimes the only sane response to Spanish attitudes to timekeeping, noise and consideration for others is simply to laugh. Especially when they’re all in evidence at the same time . . . A couple of nights ago, I went to see The Bicycle Thief down at the premises of the Caixa Galicia. This is a very profitable savings bank which acquits its social duty by laying on free cultural events for the well-heeled denizens of Pontevedra who could easily afford to pay for them. The film started – more or less – at the billed time of 8pm but it was a full 55 minutes before the latecomers stopped arriving, walking across the screen and scrabbling around for chairs. Each time someone arrived, this meant the drawing of the curtain giving us meagre protection from the light and noise coming from the adjacent bar, where the staff appeared to be having a party. And, to cap it all, one of the couples who arrived around 30 minutes late got up and left 10 minutes before the end, just as the denouement was about to unfold. Hard as it may be to believe, I could see the funny side of all this but my companion couldn’t resist asking out loud “What exactly was the point in coming?”. But she’s French so doesn’t have quite the same tolerance levels as me . . . So it’s a good job she doesn’t write a blog.

But all is not lost on the noise front. Asked recently whether they felt enough was being done to counter ‘acoustic pollution’ in their city, 95% of the readers of the Voz de Galicia who could be bothered to vote answered with a resounding No! So, why does it continue, most obviously in the form of imbeciles on mopeds, scooters and motor-bikes? Not to mention bawling neighbours.

I’m once again reading the history of Spain in the 20s and 30s of the last century. As ever, once can’t help but wonder at two things:- 1. How Spanish society can have changed so drastically in such a relatively short space of time, and 2. How could civil war possibly have been avoided. The other thought that occurs is that it’s perhaps understandable there remains more fear of the extremes of Left and Right in Spain than elsewhere. Though, that said, there’s not much evidence of the continued existence of violent anarchists. It’s the ghost of fascism that’s most often seen to be lurking behind the arras. Or Espe Aguirre.

So, Ryan Giggs got the reward he deserved and it wasn’t a bad match. But we’ll have to wait for reader Moscow to tell us how the English ooliganes got on in Moscow and whether the Russians are confused about the image shift from aristocrat to Neanderthal. I mean on the streets, not on the pitch in the person of the talented but brainless Drogba.

Finally, I posted a photo-special earlier, for regular readers who need pictorial evidence of some of my claims. Scroll on down, if you’re interested.

The Anglo Galician Association – open to all who speak English – now has a Forum on the web. If you have a query about Galicia, why not register and post it.

President Zapatero must be on Viagra Plus, as his magic wand gets bigger by the day. Now we’ve been assured he’ll ensure all Spanish kids can converse and do business in English within 10 years. This, it seems, will require the hiring of 20,000 native speakers from the UK and the USA for the state schools. And thousands of Spanish teachers will be sent to the UK and Ireland for courses. I hope they end up more intelligible than the woman I rented a room from once in the south of Ireland and who - I finally worked out - also gave lessons in English. But not English as we know it, Jim.

Talking of odd English – A TV program entitled Pressing catch is causing some controversy here because of its alleged malign influence on kids. My suspicion is it’s something to do with that joke sport, professional wrestling. But, really, I have no idea what pressing catch can mean. As with el spinning. Which, I was told this week, is now available under water.

If you live in Britain and sleep for just under 8 hours between 11.12pm and 6.53am, you are aligned with the statistical average. Here, the numbers are 6 hours between 1.30am and 7.30am. And that’s just the kids. Or those next door to me, at least.

On Monday evenings I chat for an hour or so with five teachers of English. As all of them are female, I replicated yesterday the survey suggesting 70% of Spanish women are happy with their bodies. The figure from my [secret] ballot was even higher, at 100%. We then discussed the article and they commented it was paradoxical that Spanish women were happy with what they had but spent far more time and money on themselves than their British counterparts to ensure they looked good. They didn’t respond to my goad that Spanish women probably didn’t worry about getting bigger as they aged since they knew all Spanish men really wanted to marry their mothers.

If you’ve read the article, you’ll know that the [Spanish] author points to ‘benign narcissism’ as the bedrock of the confidence and self-esteem with which every Spanish child grows up and which provides a defence against teenage female angst. On balance – and having seen it at play in other cultures - I agree this is a good thing but I can’t help wondering whether it isn’t also the foundation of the individualismo I go on about. Or self-centredness, to be explicit. Oh, alright - a total lack of consideration for others who aren’t a friend or family member.

Talking of which, I should stress that every Spaniard to whom I’ve related the episode of Tony and my [ex]bougainvillea has been suitably horrified at his ‘bad education’. Which means his upbringing in Spain. It’s his mother’s fault, then.

Reading an indictment of the British economy yesterday, I was slightly troubled by this comment - The UK current account deficit reached 5.7% of GDP in the third quarter of last year. This is approaching banana republic status and is worse than any other major country in the world, except Spain. It seems we’re going down the tube together, though it’s possible Spain will get some protection from being member of the Euro zone. Or at least that’s what I thought until I read:- The EMU is a dysfunctional monetary union, where the Latin and Germanic halves are moving further apart and so are the spreads on sovereign bonds. The gloss will come off Euroland in due course. Thank God I don’t understand what ‘the spread on sovereign bonds’ is or I’d be quite worried.

Cross cultural perceptions: My cleaning lady is known for her capacity to chat. At a decibel level way above what’s normal in my house. As she was leaving at 8.30 last night, the Portuguese workers from the nearby building site were getting into their cars, after their 12 hour day. “My God!” said Teresa, “The Portuguese certainly can talk!”. I, on the other hand, was struck dumb.

Quote of the Week

Rules are for the guidance of wise men and the obedience of fools.

This is attributed to a first world war British fighter pilot but I strongly suspect he had a Spanish mother.

So, good news for nationalists everywhere - Belgium looks ever closer to breaking up. That said, Wallonia might not last long as a separate entity, as 54% of the French are reported to favour its annexation. Flanders, on the other hand, could well remain independent. Or form a confederation with the Dutch. A British politician points out, firstly, that The countries which do best, these days, are small, agile ones, and, secondly, that Among nations, as among individuals, it is those who are made dependent on grants which suffer most. One inevitably wonders whether Cataluña, the Basque Country and Galicia would fare differently against these criteria. And I suspect the perception of fit amongst the populace would largely determine the outcome of any referendum on independence. As in Scotland, perhaps, where only 25% are currently said to favour this.

There are statues and paintings of a wide array of Blessed Virgins in Spain. One of the oddest must be the picture of the Virgin of the Fly in the sacristy of Toro’s main church. If you go to see this, be sure to take a look at the fabulous ivory and tortoiseshell carving in the same place. Astonishing workmanship.

It was in this church that I witnessed another example of what I always refer to as Spanish individualismo. Or easy disregard for rules. The church’s most famous feature is a marvellous 13^th century, Romanesque portico on which everyone seems – to me at least – to be smiling. You get to it through a door on which there’s a large sign forbidding photography. Despite this, a guy in his 60s had to be loudly reminded of this as he was about to snap the portico. “Just a little one?”, he unsuccessfully pleaded. And then spent the next five minutes moaning to his wife about pointless authoritarian attitudes.

In a related sort of way – I was amused to see the Spanish king telling the insufferable Venezuelan president, Chaves, to shut up during last week’s Iberian-South American Summit. My guess was that, far from being scandalised at this shocking breach of protocol, most Spanish people would be full of praise for his action. And so it seems. El Mundo had an editorial yesterday headed ‘The king puts Chaves in his place.’ Which does seem to be the majority view. By a long chalk.

It was reported last week that the feared result of a new Italian law would be the departure of hundreds of Rumanian gypsies in the direction of Spain. This comes at a time when our local press is warning us of the re-appearance on our streets of ‘deaf-and-dumb’ Rumanians collecting for a fictitious charity. Things could be worse; from the Costa del Sol comes a report that “gangs of Kosovans, Albanians and Romanians have targeted the chalets of Britons and other foreigners, wrongly believing them all to be rich.” This risk, it’s said, will rise as unemployment grows as the result of the recession in the construction industry. Which, by the way, is now being described as ‘faster and less gentle’ than predicted. What a surprise.

Galicia Facts

The bees in the north of our region are of the European variety, whereas down south they’re African. However, I can vouch for the fact they all buzz in Gallego.

A supermarket chain, Gadis, has made a bit of a stir with an ad whose strap line is Let’s live like Galicians. As it’s rather self-mocking, I guess it comes under the heading of Galician retranca humour. But I’m sure someone will let me know, if I’m wrong. You can see it here, complete with helpful but hilarious English subtitles.

Finally, click here for an alternative view of Norman Mailer, who was naturally lionised in the anti-American Spanish media. Never having read any of his books, I wouldn’t know where the truth lies.

When I came to Pontevedra nearly 7 years ago, there were 6 not-terribly-efficient bookshops in this city of 80,000 souls. I wondered then about the profit opportunity in buying 5 of them and making the remaining one not only monopolistic but also efficient. Anyway, one of them was knocked down last year and replaced by – what else? – yet another bank branch. Spain has the highest per capita number of these in the world. Which brought a wry smile to my face when viewing the current ad for the Santander-Abbey bank in the UK. This majors on the claim the bank has more branches worldwide than any other, while neglecting to admit most of these are back home in Spain. And increasing every day.

There’s a lot of archaeological work taking place in Pontevedra’s old quarter at the moment. The council has set up a wonderful open-air museum at one spot, where you can see the old Roman road, far below today’s highway. As ever, I’m left wondering what happened to the houses which used to border this. Where they built on as well? And is the whole city 5 or 10 metres higher than it was in the 4^th century? It certainly looks like it.

Schools in England are to get £13.7m to teach pupils “manners, respect and good behaviour”. Words like ‘horse’, ‘stable’ and ‘door’ leap to mind. Elsewhere it’s reported that pregnancies in the under-16s rose by 4% in 2005, the biggest annual increase for a decade. And nearly a quarter of children born in the UK live with only one parent, with 90% of these being in households headed by lone mothers. I wonder if there’s any connection.

The Spanish Association for Water Supply and Drainage warns that an increasing population and fluctuations in weather make Spain particularly vulnerable to the impact of climate change. Allegedly, 36% of Spain’s population suffers from water stress, however this is defined. Which makes it all the more puzzling to see how profligate people are with water here. I guess this is understandable in ‘Green Spain’, where we see a great deal of rain, but in Andalucia? Is this, I wonder, an example of individualismo on a grand scale?

Earlier in the week, there was a bit of rumpus around the remarks of the president of a French company about the directors of the Spanish minority shareholders. As I recall, he dismissed them as ‘golfers and orange-sellers’. I was reminded of this when I read last night that Spanish company directors are the best paid in the EU, despite having the lowest attendance record at board meetings. This was attributed to the Spanish custom of giving directorships to members of the family which had previously owned a taken-over company. I can understand why this would explain the low attendance but am struggling with why this would account for Spanish directors being so well paid, earning on average 96,000 euros a year, against the EU-wide figure of 66,000.

I regularly say the Spanish can be the politest people in the world, provided only they have their antennae on and recognise that you are on their radar. If not, well . . . Below is a photo of a rehearsal taking place on the stage of the Roman amphitheatre in Mérida. The couple in white baseball caps in the middle of the noisy thespian throng have wandered on from stage right and are now returning from stage left. This is either the greatest bit of insouciance I’ve ever seen or a perfect instance of Spanish unawareness of others. Judge for yourselves.

How things change. When I wanted my first mortgage 30 odd years ago, I had to beg on hands and knees for it. Now UK banks are handing them out to people in their 70s or more. In fact, yesterday came the report of a 25 year mortgage to a man of 102.

In Scotland, the latest opinion polls suggest a thumping victory for the Scottish Nationalist Party in the May elections. On the other hand, they also show reducing support for independence. This has encouraged one commentator to say that “There’s no groundswell among the voters for a bitter parting of the ways between England and Scotland”. Confused? Well, I certainly am.

The tyre law I cited yesterday is even more stringent than I thought; not only do the tyres on an axle have to be the same brand, they have to be exactly the same model within that brand. So that the tracks are absolutely identical. Thus was I forced to dedicate half a morning to the pursuit of an allegedly obsolete product that was less than 2 years old.

Here’s my latest 3-year compilation – on INDIVIDUALISMO/CONSIDERATION FOR OTHERS. For those who think I’m too critical of Spain and the Spanish, I hope it shows that I do strive to put my comments in context and to find the countervailing positives to my perceived negatives. Ripostes and comments welcome.

2003/4

I think its was V S Naipaul who wrote about how he was forced out into the traffic while crossing a bridge in Madrid. As I recall, the response to his angry remonstration was along the lines that he should go back to his own country since Spanish culture did not recognise an obligation to cede space to others. Never a truer word! Scarcely a day passes without me having to stop to avoid someone who has abruptly changed direction. Or who has emerged from a shop to join the pedestrian traffic. Or has decided to turn off to go into a café across my trajectory. It all rather reminds me of the drivers in Tehran who used to take all the mirrors off their cars to demonstrate that it was the responsibility of other drivers to anticipate their every move. Nowhere in the world can cultural norms be expected to be consistent with each other but this behaviour is squarely at odds with the fact that the Spanish, both young and old, display far more of the civility and good manners that used to be associated with the British. But in this one area, at least, they do seem to be lacking in social antennae. Or even just a sense of the existence of others. I don’t think it’s a question of consciously denying other people their ‘rights’. I‘m convinced it’s just an absence of any awareness that they are there! Spanish individualism??


In all cultures where the personal factor is disproportionately important – and Spain is the third of these in which I have lived – altruism tends to get squeezed out. Basically, strangers don’t count. The inevitable consequence of this is the triumph of individualism, something which is frequently said to distinguish the Spanish from other races. The bad side of this is, of course, selfishness and a lack of consideration for others. But there is a good side and this is greater self-reliance than is found elsewhere. People here expect to have to look after themselves, as well as their family and friends. I suppose it is possible – given the corrosive nature of creeping welfarism – to see Spain eventually showing signs of the dependency culture which now afflicts the UK but I suspect that the odds are against it. Perhaps this is merely because they came later to the welfare state but my perception is that Spanish soil is a less fertile prospect for these tenacious roots.

So …. ‘Immediate’, ‘Oral’, ‘Fun-loving’, ‘Spontaneous’, ‘Personal’, ‘Individualistic’, and with its own concept of time. Some of the key elements of Spanish society. All linked but who can say which of these is super-ordinate? Which the chicken and which the eggs? And, if you are here to enjoy yourself, who cares?

I should stress, by the way, that I make no claim to originality for my observations. If I did, I’d probably try to put them in a book and profit from them. If you want some original – but possibly dated – views of the Spanish, you could do worse than read Gerald Brenan’s 1943 classic, The Spanish Labyrinth. Or John Hooper’s book that I have already mentioned, The New Spaniards. Let me also highly recommend Cees Nooteboom’s beautifully written studies and sketches, Roads to Santiago. A little idiosyncratic but a great read.


I did some last-minute Christmas shopping this evening. Just me and everyone else in a country which specialises in procrastination. My daughters pointed out that one of the things which made it relatively easy was that the aisles are two to three times wider than in the UK. This may be because account has been taken of the fact that the Spanish manipulate their trolleys in much the same way as they handle their cars. And, indeed, their bodies. Individualistically.


I may well have talked before about Spanish parking. More accurately the total lack of consideration for others with which much of it is executed. Because of this, driving through Spanish towns is more akin to trying to slalom down a packed mountainside than anything else. There is a wide street in Pontevedra of five lanes. I say five but it is really only three as two of them are permanently occupied by cars which are legally parked. On top of this, another two are invariably blocked by cars which are illegally double-parked. This, of course, leaves just one lane for all the traffic, rush-hour or otherwise. My friend, Andrew, told me this week that as he - and all the other drivers - were trying to funnel into the single lane left to them, they were met (in a manner of speaking) by a car reversing in the other direction. It would be sexist of me to mention the gender of the driver so I won’t. Needless to say, since he/she wasn’t committing the heinous crime of hesitating at a traffic light, no one was showing any irritation whatsoever with this lunacy. Except possibly Andrew.

The street in question is Avenida de Colón, or Columbus Avenue in English. Very appropriately named, it seems to me, after someone who had no idea where he was going and no idea where he was when he finally got there. I wonder if he found other galleons double-parked in the bay when he arrived. Or reversing out, even.


Given the nature of Spanish ‘individualism’, one is afforded several opportunities each day to utter some sarcastic comment along the lines of ‘After you!’. The problem, though, is that, in order for a polite phrase to bear the weight of heavy sarcasm, it must first exist. And in Spain such phrases are conspicuous by their absence. One is forced, if one can be bothered, to resort to a curt insult such as ‘Cabrón!’. It’s a further irony that, although this can be satisfyingly infuriating to your target, it means only billy-goat in English. Or, indeed, in any language.


We all, they say, become caricatures of ourselves. I was reminded of this when musing further on the place of gypsies in Spanish society. In some ways they really are caricatures of the Spanish who despise them. Whereas the Spanish love to ignore many rules, the gypsies pay little heed to any of them. And while the Spanish are less than quiet, the gypsies – especially in cars – are phenomenally noisy. And where the Spanish are individualistic and less than considerate to others, the gypsies seem to go out of their way to be offensive. We all, of course, detest our own faults worse than any others so maybe herein lies the root cause of Spanish antipathy. There but for the grace of God go we.


The basic problem with the Spanish is that they are both impressive and infuriating in roughly equal amounts. Noble but inconsiderate. Generous but selfish.

By way of illustration - my visitors and I today had the remarkable experience of a taxi driver who enjoyed chatting to us so much that he waived not only the tip but also part of his charge. A short while later, in an underground car park, we fell foul of a woman who couldn’t be bothered to walk to the ticket machine and so drove to it and blocked everyone else’s exit while she went through the payment mechanics.

If you are lucky, you get to see more of Spanish nobility than Spanish ‘individualism’. And this, I guess, helps to determine whether or not you appreciate the country. For me, perhaps the greatest quality of the Spanish is their belief that there are many things in life far more important than money. Capitalist that I am, I can’t rid myself of the suspicion that this is right. But, then, I first learned this lesson when I was 18 and teaching in the Seychelles. But that’s another story.


I’ve noted occasionally that the Spanish are individualistic. This, of course, is a weasel word for inconsiderate. Perhaps the best demonstration of this lies in the way they park in a city where space is at a premium. Going town early yesterday, I was the 8th car in a line parked down a cul-de-sac near the bridge. Apart from the first one, all seven of the previous cars had left between 3 and 6 metres between itself and the last car parked. The most notable achievement was that of the woman who arrived just ahead of me and proceeded to take her car a full 30 metres beyond the already-handsomely-spaced cars before parking it in no-man’s land. And this despite the fact that she would have to walk back the extra 30 metres to get out of the cul-de-sac. After nearly four years here, I still don’t know whether people consciously decide to make things difficult for their fellow citizens or jut don’t think about it all. Perhaps someone Spanish could let me know. I am, of course, aware that it makes sense to leave some space so that your car is not the victim of exit-by-shunt. But 3 to 6 metres!


Strange happenings in my café today. One of the waitresses confided in me that – to my not very great surprise – most of the customers showed little consideration towards her. Especially the women. In fact, she suggested that they treated her like muck – or words to that effect. She then labelled them as snobs, badly educated and fascist. Any one of these is pretty bad in Spain but the combination speaks volumes for her state of mind. ‘Badly educated’, by the way, doesn’t actually mean what it seems to mean. In this case, the Spanish are using the word in its original Latin connotation of ‘brought up’. So it means ‘ill-mannered’. Needless to say, when she added, in a final flourish, that Spanish people as a whole are terribly inconsiderate of others, I had difficulty in restraining myself from citing more than just one of my own examples. At least her eyes, unlike those of my dear daughters, didn’t instantaneously glaze over. Maybe next time.


Walking down to town today, I was astonished to see that a young lady had actually stopped her car to take a mobile phone call. I was rather less surprised to note that she had parked her car on a zebra crossing, thus forcing pedestrians to go round her and the cars behind to wait until she’d finished her languorous conversation. [There are no others in Spain]. What made this a perfect example of Spanish individualismo at work was that she only needed to have gone 2 metres to pull off the main road.


Much to the consternation of the locals, Chinese ‘bazaars’ are springing up all over town. These are very much family concerns, of course, and are open all hours. My friends can quite understand the former aspect, as this is usually the same with Spanish businesses. But they can’t get their heads round people aiming for profits beyond what is required to provide an easy and comfortable life. Nor the willingness to give up leisure time in order to achieve this. It all smacks far too much of both hard work and excess consideration of the customer. I’m reminded of the comments of Gerald Brennan in his book, The Spanish Labyrinth – “The famous individualism of the people does not apply to economics. The Spanish are essentially anti-capitalist and uncompetitive; they have neither the bad nor the good qualities, neither the attachment to money for its own sake nor the suppleness and perseverance required for success in the modern capitalist world.”. Mind you, this was written in 1940 and things have moved on. To a degree.


2005

Much as I love Spanish café society, I do find it hard to cope with the almost inescapable cigarette fumes. Most people here smoke – especially the young females – and very few of them seem to be aware that the habit is obnoxious to people eating and drinking near them. Or perhaps they are and just don’t care. I, for one, will be happy to see the government emulate the Irish and ban smoking in cafés and restaurants. But, then, one wonders just how many Spanish individualists will abide by the rules.


Reverting to George Borrow and The Bible in Spain, it struck me today that the one trait he never even mentions is the one most obvious to all newcomers to modern Spain – their individualismo. Perhaps this is because everyone in the world was rather more individualistic in the 1830s and so it wouldn’t have been remarkable in Spain at that time.


Pontevedra’s market traders met with council representatives yesterday to sort out their long-standing differences about the bi-monthly street market. But the meeting had to be abandoned when a fist fight broke out. That’s individualismo for you.


I’ve realised that the perfect substitute for individualismo is ‘solipsistic’. It sounds so much less insulting. Mainly because most of us don’t know what the hell it means.


Fair enough, I’ve been asked by a reader to differentiate between ‘individualismo’ and ‘solipsism’. Well, on a philosophic plane, there’s a considerable overlap – as those truly interested can see from the definitions set out at the end of this post. But, in truth, we’re talking here about something rather less ethereal than philosophies of life. What interests us more [I sincerely hope] are the practicalities of day-to-day Spanish life.

The Spanish Academy’s dictionary has four meanings for ‘individualismo’ and the relevant ones are ‘Egotism’ and ‘A propensity to act in accordance with one’s own will and not in concert with the group’. As the numerous references over the centuries attest, it’s hard to deny that this really is how the Spanish frequently come across to those from other cultures. Not to mention bloody rude and inconsiderate.

But the truth is that they are none of these. And – after a few seconds of misplaced pride at being thought of as different – most Spanish would be horrified, and not a little hurt, to know that this is how others see them. For the reality is that they are probably the most sociable, affable, spontaneous, generous and ‘noble’ people on earth. Provided always that you are within their orbit. And, outside their relatives, no one is within any Spaniard’s orbit unless they are standing or sitting next to them. So, they make wonderful hosts and charming guests. And you can have a great time with strangers you’ve just met in a bar or on a plane. But, in this very oral and personal society, if you’re not there talking in the here-and-now, then you don’t really exist and no duties are owed to you. Even if you are a close friend. So it is, for example, that pupils will simply not turn up for [private] lessons, guests will not attend the dinners they promised to come to and any number of drivers will park their cars so as to cause maximum inconvenience to others.

In a nutshell, Spanish ‘individualism’ is a cultural or societal construct. It’s certainly not something they consciously decide to be, as part of a philosophy of life. For a start, the latter would involve thinking ahead and being consistent – two activities which most Spanish regard as inimical [if not fatal] to their much-prized spontaneity.

Accidental solipsists, then.

Dictionary Definitions

Solipsism: A philosophy which denies the possibility of any form of knowledge other than one’s own existence

Individualism: The doctrine that only individual things exist and that, therefore, classes or properties have no reality. Or … The doctrine that the self is the only knowable existence.


Another new experience this afternoon. The woman in front of me at the supermarket check-out thought it would be a great idea if she went to get some cash after she’d had her shopping bagged for her. To add insult to injury, she came back from the cash-point without enough readies and had to make a return journey. So.. did she offer any comment? I leave you to guess. Suffice to say, I wasn’t surprised to later see her husband/partner/lover/chauffeur parked where he shouldn’t have been. That old Spanish individualismo again. Dual in this case.


So young Mr Nadal of Spain has won the French Tennis Open Championship. And young Mr Alonso is walking away with the Formula 1 Championship. Great for Spain, of course, but I can’t help noticing these are both rather individualistic sports. In contrast, the Spanish soccer team are the great under-achievers of our age. One wonders why.


Individualismo again. The granite carvers’ school behind my house has a huge car park, complete with strange granite sculptures that are featured in the Photo Gallery on my web page [colindavies.net]. At most, this is only ever 10 per cent full. So I was a little surprised this week to see several cars parked on the lawns, rather than on the tarmac. Then I realised there are shade-affording trees on the lawns. Stuff the grass, then. Actually, even though it’s 35 today the evidence is that the practice has been stamped on.


There’s no shortage of commentators these days to bemoan the decline of British society and to point the finger at the self-centredness of the Me, Me generation. In particular at today’s lack of consideration for others. I’m rather unconvinced about this perceived connection. After all, you’d have to go a long way to find people more individualistic and less considerate towards others than the Spaniards and yet Spanish society is undoubtedly superior. Perhaps this is because Spanish selfishness is a more passive variety, born of being doted on as kids, in contrast to the actively aggressive greed of Britain’s materialistic youth.


Spain is passing through its worst draught since records began more than 60 years ago and the fire risk in enormous, even without the help of the those who deliberately start conflagrations. Against this backdrop, we’ve just re-learned that it’s not only on the road where individualismo has a price. A huge forest fire in Guadalajara was triggered at the weekend by some day trippers who decided to ignore the warning signs and start a bar-b-q. The fire has now taken 15 lives, including 11 volunteer fire-fighters who were ‘reduced to ashes’ [as they say here] when their cars were surrounded by flames. It’s hard to imagine a more horrific death but I wonder whether they’ll get the 2 minutes of international silence accorded to the UK terrorist victims. As they certainly won’t, it makes you realise the world was really mourning something more than the human deaths last week.


My American guest experienced two major surprises down in Pontevedra today. The first was a stunning example of Spanish individualismo, when a car was left double-parked in the main street, bringing the traffic to a complete halt for close to 10 minutes. The second occurred when the driver finally appeared but neither she nor any of the blocked drivers said a word to each other in either apology or anger. This was despite the fact that most of the drivers had spent the previous 10 minutes furiously blowing their horns in a vain attempt to get the driver to emerge from wherever it was she felt it so vitally important to remain. A café, apparently. Now, if she had stalled at some traffic lights…..


Rick and I witnessed another wonderful example of individualismo today. In a tourist spot where parking was, to say the least, at a premium, most of the cars were [properly] parked at a right angle to the wall. But one driver had decided to avail himself of the wall’s shadow by parking parallel to it, thus taking up 3 of the precious bays. I tell a lie; a total of 3 drivers had done this. Unhappily, I’d gone out without my hammer and nails.


At Vigo airport there’s a special parking facility just across from the terminal. The first 10 minutes are free but thereafter you have to be Croesus to afford the rates. Today, the access lane to this was occupied by 23 taxis, making things difficult for those trying to enter and impossible for those keen to exit before the 10 minutes is exceeded. I couldn’t make out whether this was a protest, an act of Spanish pragmatism or the first example I’ve seen of group individualismo.


Well, the first week of secondary school has passed and I haven’t heard from my inherited pupil about her intentions. I assume she’s not returning and I’m not going to be advised. Truth to tell, this is all too common in Spain, where such courtesies can be in short supply. All a reflection of the famous individualism and spontaneity, I guess.


2006

There’s naturally been a bit of a focus on Italy over the past few days. Here’s a comment which evoked some sympathy [and empathy] in me:- Italians are forced to spend an average of 7,000 minutes a year [117 hours] queuing in order to satisfy the state's bureaucracy. It takes more than a year to get the permits to open a pizzeria, for example. Taxes, if they are paid, are ludicrously high. So it is no wonder that the country is seized with rampant individualism, or ‘menefreghismo’ ("I don't care-ism"). Hmm . . . I wonder what the equivalent Spanish word is.


Well, the Spanish equivalent of the Italian ‘menefreghismo’ [rampant individualism] may well be ‘medaigualismo’. I found it via a Google search, though my Spanish friends say it doesn’t exist. I say it does now and you heard it here first.


Although all of us Johnny Foreigners may regard the Spanish as a nation [or even 5 or 6 nations] of rampant individualists, it seems they see themselves as conformists. Or this, at least, is the inference to be drawn by a survey carried out by El Mundo into attitudes towards the Franco regime. To the question ‘Do you think this lasted 40 years because it was repressive or because the majority of Spaniard felt able to conform with it?’ a surprising 57% plumped for the second reason. So, can the Spanish be conformist and individualist at the same time? I guess so. Faced with a pervasive government bureaucracy and inefficient/corrupt local government, they can be very conformist. But, faced with parking rules, they can be very individualist. And perhaps the latter is a consequence of the former, with impotence around large matters breeding futile protest around small matters.


A couple of readers have responded to my comment on water management in Spain with examples of the profligate way it’s wasted by their neighbours. So perhaps it’s not too surprising that consumption in Spain of 171 litres per capita per day is 16% more than in the UK. But today there were reports of a price increase of 12% so maybe things will change. Though I rather doubt it short term, the two main barriers being a lack of awareness and the [in]famous ‘individualism’ of the Spanish. Not to mention the divisive regional antipathies which the current government seems bent on increasing in its political interest.


Despite their increasing wealth, the Spanish are not terribly well disposed towards paying the extra cost of Fair Trade products. Although per capita spend on these rose significantly in the last year, Spain still languishes second to bottom in the European league. Its spend of 348 euros per thousand people compares badly with 18,600 in Sweden and even with the EU average of 2,319. Perhaps this is connected with the regular reports we get that more than 65% of Spaniards struggle to get to the end of the month. But, then, might this reflect the high levels of wining and dining in the country’s millions of bars and restaurants? And is it another manifestation of Spanish ‘individualism’? Possibly not as the Portuguese are even stingier. Albeit a lot poorer.


When you’ve been in a culture long enough, things finally start to come together. And apparent contradictions suddenly seem compatible. Like Giles Tremlett [‘Ghosts of Spain’], I’ve often wondered how spoilt, self-centred children can turn into such admirably unaggressive adolescents. And how adults who appear, at times to be so ‘independent’ [i. e. selfish] can, at other times, be among the most polite people imaginable. My latest theory is that the spoilt kids certainly acquire manners [possibly by osmosis] but never recover from the fact they’re never taught to actually think of others before themselves. What adults end up with is what I call ‘passive politeness’. In effect, if they’re not aware of your existence [and they naturally don’t have good antennae], they can come across as very rude. But, if you do register on their radar screen, they immediately transmogrify into exceptionally polite people. And because they can do this, they’re very affronted by the suggestion they’re ill-mannered [mal educado]. In fact, this seems to be one of the stronger insults in Spain. Though not as bad as being called a billy goat. Anyway, this – as I say – is my current theory and you’re welcome to pull it apart. Politely, I hope. Right or wrong, I do know the best way to ensure you’re treated civilly in Spain is to force your way into someone’s consciousness. Telling them they are obstructing your view, or standing on your foot, for example. No people on earth apologises more profusely than the Spanish once their innate politeness is activated. Not a country for shrinking violets, then.

It’s an increasingly trendy view this will be the century of Identity Politics, with the world having to wrestle with the problem of more and more shared-interest groups using violence to get recognition/independence. Some evidence comes from the news this week that it’s not only in Cornwall that the road signs are to be written in two languages [English and Cornish]; over in León they’re now doing this in Spanish and Bable. This is comforting to me since I asked, many months ago, why the Cornish and Leonese were lagging behind in the pursuit of a national identity. Good to see they’ve both now made a start on the long road to freedom from the yoke of tyranny and colonial oppression. Even if they have to re-invent a language along the way.

Here’s the list of the most intriguing searches which ended up on this blog in February:-
crucifix slut evil gallery
what is the percentage of teenagers today that shave their pubic regions
First man to bring a tractor in Spain
ideas to get own back on neighbours who take my parking space

The last of these, naturally, appeals to me most. Which reminds me - My most contributive reader – Carlos – has criticised [inter alia] my take on the individualism of the Spanish. In so far as I may, at times, have concentrated on the negative aspect of this [i. e. lack of consideration for others], this is fair enough. So I reproduce here a few of the third party comments I’ve found in a quick search. The first two come from guides for people doing business here. The third is from the page of some complete nutters:-

In terms of personal attributes, individualism is highly valued in Spain, along with an emphasis on character and social status. Spanish culture highlights the importance of self and one’s family. However, influenced by its collectivist past, family values, a sense of identity and belonging to a group are also integral parts of society in Spain. Consequently personal qualities - appearance, image and personal relationships - are extremely significant components in contemporary Spanish culture. In a business context, personal attributes and character are frequently valued as much as technical ability, experience or professional competence. When doing business in Spain, you will find that individualism is particularly predominant in management, where Spanish managers are less inclined to favour group decision making and team orientation.

Throughout Spanish business, individualism is predominant in management and team orientation is less important. Personal pride and individualism are highly valued, as are character and breeding. Modesty is valued over assertiveness. Flaunting superiority, intelligence and ability is not appreciated. People strive to project affluence and social position. Personal appearance, image and human relationships are very important.

Spain has a sixth ray ego and a seventh ray personality. Spain acts as a link in world adjustment but this time the link is between Europe and Africa. It will be apparent why the battleground of two great ideologies - the Fascist and the Communistic - has been found inevitably in Spain. The triumph of the Fascist part has been equally inevitable from the start because of the egoic relation existing between Spain and Italy and also to the proximity of the two countries which has enabled the telepathic impress of Fascist idealism to be easily impressed upon the prepared and sensitive Spanish consciousness. As to the fanaticism, the natural cruelty, the fervent idealism, the arrogant pride and the religious and mystical quality of the Spanish character, they are obviously of sixth ray origin and are highly crystallized. The intense individualism of the people can be noted also as a definite part of their seventh ray personality equipment.

As the world knows, the trial has started of those accused of being behind the 2004 bombings in Madrid. I get the impression El Mundo is still flogging the deadest of horses in trying to establish some link between these Islamic extremists and the Basque terrorist group, ETA. I guess they’re struggling to find a face-saving way of letting go of the claim. Meanwhile, though, I doubt many are convinced, even on the right wing.

I’ve commented that new bank branches are sprouting like spring shoots down in Pontevedra. So I wasn’t surprised to read this week that Spain now has the highest number of branches per capita in the world. These are, of course, expensive to run, especially given the personnel needed to give the Spanish the immediate, face-to-face service they prefer. And yet Spanish banks are now amongst the most profitable in the world. You don’t need to be a genius to work out how this is possible.

Talking of low quality but expensive service – A friend of mine who lives in a village 15km outside Pontevedra has just asked Telefonica for an ADSL line. They’ve replied that the existing line is poor so, instead of 20 euros a month, the service will cost 30 euros. Translated this means ‘We can’t be bothered to invest in giving you the line to which you’re legally entitled and, if you’re stupid enough to insist on having broadband, we will take advantage of you by charging a 50% premium’. Strangely, all the other providers quoted the same monthly charge - possibly because they have to rent the line from Telefonica. Like the banks, Telefonica is also a highly profitable company. But who could be surprised? I sometimes wonder why the Spanish bother to have a Minister for Consumer Affairs. Though, in fact, I think it’s only a part of a larger portfolio. Which possibly includes Trade and Commerce.

Once again I take my hat off to the serious dailies here for their obit columns. This week for example, they’ve featured the inventor of the TV remote control, who possibly didn’t even rate a mention in his home town’s rag.

Postscript to the Tenerife fiesta problems – The lawyer for the unhappy residents asserts that – between 3 and 4 am – the decibel level in the street was between 104 and 130, against a legal limit of 55. There were a couple of opposing articles on this subject in Sunday’s El Mundo. One of these basically said no one opposed fiestas but it couldn’t be a free-for-all; there had to be limits on how much noise was generated. The nub of the second one was that ‘A lot of noise equals a fiesta; little noise equals a funeral’. Of course, in some countries this would read ‘No noise equals a funeral’. But not here, where they’re essentially another social occasion.

I said yesterday I disagreed with Andrew O’Hagan about Britain needing more individuality. But I’ve since realised he may really have been talking about eccentricity. As John Hooper points out in The New Spaniards, there’s a world of difference between genuine eccentricity – of which there is little in conformist Spain – and individualismo. Of which there’s a great deal. Your preferred synonym for this word depends on whether you’re experiencing or displaying it. In the former case, I opt for ‘selfish’. When I display it, it’s called ‘getting my own back’.

Galicia Facts

The EU has said it won’t be giving Galicia any cash in respect of last August’s dreadful fires. Perhaps it’s read that the region has the lowest per capita number of fire-fighters in all Spain and feels it needs to put its own house in order before seeking hand-outs. Actually, the Commission did say it was a tad illogical to seek compensation for a natural disaster while loudly proclaiming it was the result of a home-grown politico-criminal conspiracy. Hmmm. . . perhaps they’re a bit more sophisticated in Brussels than in the constituencies of Lugo and Ourense, for example. Thus is the Xunta hoist by its own petard.

Spain now has over 3m foreigners living legally here. The Brits, at 170k, come in at 5th, beaten by the Moroccans, the Ecuadorians, the Colombians and [surprisingly] the Rumanians. After us Brits come the Chinese, the Italians, the Peruvians, the Argentineans and the Germans. The average age is 34, which must surely be dragged upwards by the British south coast contingent. Not to mention me.

The Spanish authorities have expressed concern that in-car sat nav facilities are dangerous. Well, who’d have thought that something you keep looking at and fiddling with would distract you from driving?

I’ve often wondered what Spanish drivers are thinking when they park their cars illegally and then switch on their hazard lights. After all, in daylight you can’t miss a car that’s obstructing your progress and at night simple side lights would be enough. Yesterday I concluded it’s a religious act. In effect, it’s a Confiteor; I confess I know I’m breaking the law and being a bloody nuisance to the rest of you. But whether there’s any element of mea culpa in this I’m not so sure. I suspect most of these ‘individualistic’ drivers don’t give a damn about the inconvenience caused to others. They just want to salve their conscience. I wonder whether it happens in non-Catholic, non confessional cultures.

Galicia Facts

Galicia’s cost of living is 88% of the EU average and, more usefully, only higher than those of Andalucia and Murcia within Spain. When it comes to cities, Catalunia scoops the pool, with Barcelona and Girona in the first and second slots. Surprisingly, Madrid comes in at only no. 7.

Finally, Galician nationalism: Switch off now if this is of no interest to you . . . Carlos - presumably not the very civil and patient Xoan Carlos - has written to accuse me [inter alia] of drawing false conclusions about Galician nationalism from an over-narrow circle of friends. He insists that a ‘nationalistic feeling’ permeates Galician society. Well, he may be right. But it all hinges on what you mean by ‘nationalist’. After my recent dialogue with Xoan Carlos, I concluded he was using ‘nation’ to mean no more than a community of like-minded souls who saw themselves as different from other ‘shared culture’ groups. On this basis, I had no difficulty accepting Galicia was a nation but suggested even Yorkshire would qualify for this status. As would my own stomping ground of Merseyside. And even Greater Manchester. After all – despite being only 30 miles apart – they certainly see themselves as being very different and can scarcely understand each other’s dialect. So, if Carlos means most Galicians have a love of their culture and see themselves as different from people in other parts of Spain – including even next door Asturias – then I’m sure he’s right. But I’ve seen no evidence at all in 6 years that anyone here is striving for Galicia to be a nation in the normally accepted meaning of this word. I’d even go so far as to say that those who feel strongest about this live – like our New Zealand Basque friend – outside Galicia/Spain. But maybe there’s a pragmatic solution to this problem. In the UK, we use the word ‘country’ in the same way it’s used for the ‘Basque Country’. As in 'the West Country', for example. Perhaps Galicia should start calling itself ‘the Galician Country’ and everyone would be happy and able to concentrate on the economic challenges which Carlos and I agree are of paramount importance. By the way, Carlos, you must know that ‘Spanish’ is used for the language of Spain in English, not ‘Castilian’. To use the latter suggests you’re coming at this issue primarily from a negative and adversarial perspective. Rather like all those who bang on about Galicia being a colonial victim of Castilian imperialism. It leaves me wondering how the people of Normandy [who, after all, successfully invaded England a mere millennium ago] feel about the French imperialist bastards suppressing their nation. Or the poor people of Languedoc, who were forced to accept the imperium of Languedoui. I guess they’ve got over it and moved on.

Anticipating numerous ‘individualistic’ guests in my neighbours’ houses for New Year’s Eve dinner, I erected a simple barrier in front of my garage in what I feared would be a vain attempt to secure a parking space on our return from dinner in town. To my surprise – nay, astonishment – it was respected. But I now wait to see whether my neighbours will react badly to this provocative Anglo behaviour.

My German guests have pronounced they couldn’t contemplate living next to my neighbour, nice-but-noisy Tony. I suspect it’s this sort of effete attitude which cost them the last war. I, however, shall soldier on - raising my hi-fi to ever higher levels, as required. And keeping the ear plugs in at night.

A couple of days ago, there were reports in the UK press of widespread EU dissatisfaction with the euro. One of our local newspapers – the Voz de Galicia – has now weighed in with a report which confirms what everyone already knew, viz. that the prices of some everyday products soared into the stratosphere and that inflation for basics has been twice as high as the official figure. Worst of all, the components of Galicia’s traditional stew dish – the cocido – have risen by 300% since the euro’s debut. But, says the paper, it’s not all bad news. Firstly, this daylight robbery was concentrated in the first three years and the growth in prices has since levelled off. Secondly, products such as shower gel, nappies [diapers] and toilet paper are actually cheaper now than in 2000. Shame you can’t eat them. Though I have heard it asked by ignorant foreigners whether cocido doesn’t contain similar items.