"Be water, my friend."

Un trozo de "La entrevista perdida" de Bruce Lee (1971) en este anuncio para el X3 de BMW:
Be water, my friend.

The full lost interview with Spanish voiceover (not good sound quality, though):
Entrevista perdida.

"The Lost Interview" in English:
Lost interview.

Spanish graffiti.

The trains in Spain sport the colours of the brave artists fighting to stop transport systems sinking into a boring collection of sanitised corporate liveries.

This is how it's done. An hour of artists working on trains all over Spain, climbing fences and trolling along tunnels to get to work.

See the video: Reality Show 2

See some more 'burners' at wallspankers.com

A nice treat: Banksy

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

+ Freely downloadable dance music mixes:

House, trance, techno, hard dance, drum 'n' bass - Dancemuzic.com

Andy Gregory plays progressive trance. His site has dozens of uplifting mix sessions free to download - check out the 'Vocal Sessions' - AndyG

Good house/trance mixes - Peter Worth

Noun - ser - noun

I learnt a fact today.

ser agrees in number with a following plural noun.

Examples:

El problema son las estudiantes.

El ejemplo más frecuente citado son los numerosos y múltiples avances tecnológicos.

La revolución eran simplemente unos festivos fuegos artificiales daneses.

Source: Using Spanish, Cambridge University Press.

Culture in Cuba.

How Cuba keeps alive its cultural heritage.

From the age of 14, young instructors learn how to teach music, dance, drama and the visual arts. They then go out to primary and secondary schools across the country to teach the pupils there.

This video gives enticing glimpses of Cuban life, and there's lots of spoken Spanish with English subtitles.

Select Windows Media or Real Player version of video here:
Performing arts in Cuba

José María García, periodista.

This is a video interview of José María García, which was pulled by TVE, but is now available on the El Mundo site.

García speaks clearly and is easy to understand - good listening for us learners.

Entrevista de Jesús Quintero a José María García
(You have to wait a few seconds while an advertisement clears.)

'Contrastes'

Kaori Muraji Guitar Concert

An hour of beautiful music and delightful video. Kaori Muraji plays pieces by Rodrigo, Manuel de Falla, Sainz de la Maza, and Moreno Torroba.

The programme:
Concierto de Aranjuez (con Orquesta Sinfónica de Madrid)
Homenaje a Debussy
Tiento Antiguo
Invocación y Danza ('Homenaje a Manuel de Falla')
Campana del Alba
En Los Trigales
Fandanguillo
Danza del Molinero

Hear and see on Google Video: Contrastes.

(Pronouncing 'Aranjuez')

El 65% de los pacientes tratados con cannabis mejoran su calidad de vida.

This is a follow up on an earlier post, Less pain in Spain, about cannabis trials in Catalonia.

The results:

On 20 October the Health Committee of Catalonia presented results of a clinical study with the cannabis extract Sativex in patients with different chronic diseases such as multiple sclerosis, neuropathic pain as well as appetite and weight loss. 65 per cent of the 123 participants experienced an improvement of quality of life and a decrease of pain. The other 35 per cent discontinued the treatment due to side effects, mainly dizziness, dry mouth and fatigue.

It was a pilot study that started in January 2006 in six hospitals in the region of Barcelona. According to the press release of the Health Committee the study demonstrated that cannabis could be an alternative for "patients with severe chronic diseases of different causes that would not well respond to standard medications and would be associated with a decrease of quality of life."

See the full write up in Spanish on cadenaser.com.

Source: IACM Bulletin.

Videos venezolanos.

Venezuela 1956

Here's a lovely film showing Venezuela through the eyes of a North American oil company employee in 1956 -
Creole Assignment: Venezuela.

Comment by johnvillegasi: "Este extraordinario video de Creole Petroleoum Corporation nos hace reflexionar muchas cosas. Entre ellas, que hasta 1955 Venezuela había tenido gobernantes que querían lo mejor para ella. Prueba de lo anterior es que entre los años 40 y 1980, Venezuela ocupó el 3er lugar en ingreso per capita en el mundo, siguiendo solo a Suiza y EEUU. Permaneció durante esos años como la nación que tuvo mayor crecimiento sostenido a nivel mundial. El producto del petróleo se invertía en infraestructura e industria."

Venezuela 2002

How are your propaganda spotting talents?

Which, do you think, of the following two documentaries conveys the truth?

This video shows the 1992 coup and counter coup in Venezuela -
The Revolution will not be Televised.

Comment by Marcos (a Venezuelan citizen): "The footage is very good, 'surprisingly good' if you know what i mean. On the other hand, this 'documentary' shows some truth, but also some lies and a lot of manipulation. Why? Because it focuses only in both extremes leaving aside all the people, A LOT OF PLEOPLE, who is in between and dislikes the opposition and Chavez's goverment, why the producers didn't do some research on this? To finish, for those who don't speak spanish, the 'documentary' is conveniently translated to make look better Chavez's side."

That video spawned this one debunking it -
X-Ray of a Lie.

Comment by curandero62: "Me parece una excelente respuesta para contrarestar a la desinformacion que sufren en el extranjero, por lo menos a puesto a dudar a muchos sobre la veracidad de la informacion que les llega a traves de los medios afectos al regimen de Chavez. Chavez inteligentemente se ha puesto como la victima ante los medios extranjeros, y eso le rindio dividendos dentro de la izquierda, sobre todo europea, que anda como pollo sin cabeza, buscado desesperadamente un lider romantico tipo Fidel en sus primeros años!"

You have to make up your own mind where the truth lies.

'Giant Girl Doll'

An entrancing video and music combination: Giant Girl Doll.

Also 'Loose Change'
If you haven't already seen it, you should watch 'Loose Change'. Though the video is criticised, it is nonetheless considered to raise questions that urgently demand serious scrutiny - with big implications for us all.

In English
With subtitles in:
Spanish
Dutch
French
German
Swedish
Chinese
Korean
Italian
Danish
Turkish
Finnish
Polish

'Percusienfa' de Erik Mongrain.

Have you ever seen and heard the guitar played like this?
It's called 'guitar tapping'.

On Google Video
On YouTube

This is the composer/artist's site: Erik Mongrain

Podcasts in Spanish.

There's some good Spanish listening downloadable at BBC Estudio 834.

"BBC Estudio 834 es un espacio de encuentro y conversación.

Un espacio para entrevistas, charlas informales con personalidades del mundo hispano que han destacado en la política, deportes, cultura y entretenimiento.

En el corazón del servicio latinoamericano de la BBC, el 834 es el estudio en el que técnicos y productores hemos transmitido por años nuestra programación al mundo de habla hispana."

There's a wealth of Spanish podcasts on topical, bizarre and humorous subjects at la Aradio.

If you like your Spanish listening spiced there's some to warm your ears at Sex Podcast.

There's an interesting podcast idea at the albimist - a serial story in Spanish, English and German (parallel audio?). I'm not sure about the accents.

Ben and Marina produce regular podcasts in Spanish at Notes from Spain - with transcripts available.

Choose your own subject of interest at Directorio de podcasts en español y podcasting en castellano. And at the smart new directory: pod sonoro.

Roland from Poland.

I'm in a work loop, so posts are rare. I'm listening though, and because it's good I'm posting this, even though it's off topic.

'Roland from Poland - Asylum Seeker'. Rightly described as 'innovative breakbeat tunes' - from Tim Taylor.

The critics say:
"A triumph of DIY ethics" The Wire
"One of the most impressive albums of the year." Venue

Free to download at laundry-room (visit 'The Sink'): well worthwhile.

Song of the Withered Orange-tree.

This is my favourite little Lorca poem. It's a good one for out-loud practice, preferably in the middle of a field somewhere; and it's simple to learn.

Canción del Naranjo Seco

Leñador.
Córtame la sombra.
Líbrame del suplicio
de verme sin toronjas.

¿Por qué nací entre espejos?
El día me da vueltas.
Y la noche me copia
en todas sus estrellas.

Quiero vivir sin verme.
Y hormigas y vilanos,
soñaré que son mis
hojas y mis pájaros.

Leñador.
Córtame la sombra.
Líbrame del suplicio
de verme sin toronjas.

J L Gili's translation:

Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow.
Deliver me from the torture
of beholding myself fruitless.

Why was I born surrounded by mirrors?
The day turns round me.
And the night reproduces me
in each of her stars.

I want to live without seeing myself.
And I shall dream
that ants and hawks
are my leaves and birds.

Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow.
Deliver me from the torture
of beholding myself fruitless.

Some sources show this poem with a dedication: 'A Carmen Morales'.

I haven't been able to find anything about her and Lorca. I imagine she is Carmen Morales the actress (in films:Una nueva primavera (1940), Las uvas de la ira (1940)- The Grapes of Wrath - and Los amantes de la noche (1949)), but there's nothing out there about her, except the names of her films and some photos.

We have a new Carmen Morales, actress, now (School Killer, Hotel Danubio): the daughter of Rocío Dúrcal and Antonio Morales (aka Junior). Their story in Spanish.

Here's a suberb Lorca resource: Poesía de Federico García Lorca.

Image: Orange-tree mosaic © 1998 Lindsay Violet Mary Farrell.

Diarios de Viaje.

Some eye candy - and inspiration for making our own travels recollectable (see post below: 'El final de la diversidad cultural') - Diarios de Viaje.

This is a series of diaries, hand-written and illustrated by Joaquin Gonzalez Dorao, a Spanish graphic designer and illustrator, from his journeys to several countries. Beautiful pieces.

¿Embarazada?

Why is the word for pregnant in Spanish so much like the English for embarrassed? I always wondered. Schoolboyish, I know.

Embarazar was first recorded in Spanish in 1460. The root of the word is in the meaning to bar, block, impede, hinder. I couldn't think how that connects with being pregnant. What is impeded? - the womb. Or, more likely, it could derive from sex being barred during pregnancy in those days. The Church proclaimed: 'Sex is forbidden when a woman is menstruating, pregnant, nursing, during lent,...' So, when pregnant, she was 'barred'.

If the above derivation is correct, then the Spanish usage of the word is understandable. English adopted the word via the French embarrasser. It was not used to mean 'feeling ashamed or awkward' until the 1800s, and this meaning likely developed from the feelings (some would say, particularly English feelings) associated with being impeded or held back.


A Spanish word trail:

embarazar
1. v.tr. Impedir, estorbar, retardar algo - block, hold back
2. v.tr. Dejar encinta a una mujer - make pregnant

encinta
adj. Dicho de una mujer - preñada, pregnant

preñada
adj. Dicho de una mujer, o de una hembra de cualquier especie que ha concebido y tiene el feto o la criatura en el vientre (baby in the belly).

concebir
1. v.tr. to conceive, to understand
2. v.intr. to become pregnant, conceive (mujer)


The danger of mistaking embarazada for embarrassed makes it a 'false friend' (not a false cognate; they are cognates = they share the same root).

For those so tempted, you should know:
When an obscene meaning is produced in making a pun on a false friend, it is called cacemphaton (κακεμφάτον), Greek for 'bad-looking'. The prime pun on embarrass/embarazar seems to be this (Google returned 825 of these):

When Parker Pen marketed a ballpoint pen in Mexico, its ads were supposed to say "It won't leak in your pocket and embarrass you." However, the company mistakenly thought the Spanish word "embarazar" meant embarrass. Instead the ads said: "It won't leak in your pocket and make you pregnant."

Yet, be cautious still, for embarazoso means exactly the same as 'embarrassing'.

Image: Font of Life © 2006 S Carlos

El final de la diversidad cultural.

You don't see this in the UK except, and if you're lucky, in a large city bookshop; but it's sold all over Spain. It's a magazine produced in English-Spanish, English-French and English-Italian combinations; and a very pleasant way to pick up some vocabulary. This is the COLORS site, but you only get a flavour there (though you can subscribe).

It's bilingual throughout with powerful writing, strong design and fantastic pictures. In this issue dedicated to Travel, for instance, there's a piece on the effects of travel on cultural diversity:

"See the world while it lasts. Technology is infectious. Every time an antenna is raised in a remote village, another local culture becomes extinct. No society is equipped to withstand the onslaught. Every satellite launched, every cable laid, and the death of every elder, hastens the end of cultural diversity. If you are 25, it will disappear during your lifetime. Forget about stopping it; you can't. Instead savor every chance you get to absorb a passing world, to experience as much as you can before it fades into a big version of anyplace."

"Hay que ver el mundo antes de que desaparezca del mapa. La tecnología es contagiosa. Cada nueva antena que se levanta en una aldea remota significa el final de una cultura. Ninguna sociedad tiene los medios para defenderse. Cada vez que se pone en órbita un satélite, cada vez que se entierra un cable de televisíon, cada vez que muere un anciano, se acerca el final de la diversidad cultural. Si hoy tienes 25 años desaparecerá antes de que te mueras. Ni si te ocurra tratar de impedirlo: es imposible. Lo mejor es aprovechar todas las posibilidades que se presenten de saborear el mundo que se desvanece, ver y aprender todo lo que puedas antes de que el mundo se convierta en un lugar donde todos y todo se parece."

(If you're thinking that gives you plenty of time -
the issue quoted was published in 1995.)

COLORS magazine spread showing used Coke cans from America, Poland, Zimbabwe, Australia, Japan, Finland, Nepal.

So they recommend:

"Go now. Go for the people, not for the weather. Go to learn. Pass along to your friends and later, your kids, the things you learned, wherever you went. Use the technology you have to record what you find. Take pictures, tape music and stories, make videos. And leave nothing behind. When you go back home, take things away in your head, not in your suitcase.

If you want a souvenir, bring back a used can of Coke."

"Viaja, pero que sea la gente, y no el clima del lugar, el objetivo de tu viaje. Viaja y aprende. Así podrás enseñar a tus amigos y, después, a tus hijos todo lo que has aprendido en tus viajes. Aprovecha la tecnología para grabar cuanto encuentres. Saca fotos, graba música e historias y graba videos. No dejes nada olvidado: a volver a tu país, llévatelo todo en la cabeza, no en la maleta.

Si quieres un souvenir, llévate una lata vacía de Coca Cola."

Los mios



Dalí's thoughts:
"Thanks to IBM machines, social classes are going to disappear, and the whole universe will be cuckolded."
From Alain Bosquet's Conversations with Dali (1969).

¿Puedo tutearlo?

The use of 'tú' or 'usted' takes some understanding, and causes some fear about getting it wrong and giving offence. Once, it was easy: "Usted is the only word with which persons address and are addressed in ordinary conversation in Spanish", states an old manual. Since then, the world has become a friendlier place (yes), and the familiar form is more the norm.


Is it after the first kiss?

Many of us have difficulties. Here are some comments from the wordreference forum.

"I translate romantic novels from English into Spanish and it is very tricky to find the moment when the boss and the secretary or the doctor and the nurse switch from usted to tú. Is it after the first kiss? Is it before?" (Mary Solari)

In much of Latin America it's different again: 'ustedes' is used even with family members; 'vosotros' is seldom used. And in some parts, 'vos' replaces 'tú', and 'tú' is used with people merely known.

Consequently, South Americans worry about their reception in Spain:

"I never learned 'vosotros' and mis amigos madrileños laugh at me when I speak to them in 'Uds' ... I wonder, if I ever move to Spain, will I have to learn it? Will I pick it up naturally? Will people forgive me and know I learned my Spanish on this side of the Atlantic?"(Lisa)

Mary Solari replies:

"Don't worry, Lisa, I had never used vosotros in my life and have adopted it very easily since living in Spain."

Maeron:

"I asked some Spanish friends about this, and they said it doesn't sound so strange to them that we call them Uds. because they are acquainted with it from watching Latin American telenovelas."

No hay nada malo

As we no longer use 'ye' in English, we often have to explain when we mean a plural 'you', not a singular. Ambiguities can also arise in Spanish with the forms of 'you':

El director general de un banco se preocupa por un joven director estrella, quien después de un período de trabajar a la par de él, sin parar nunca a almorzar, empieza a ausentarse al mediodía.

Así que llama al detective privado del banco y le dice: "Siga a López un día entero, no vaya a ser que ande en algo extraño."

El detective cumple con el cometido, regresa e informa:
"López sale normalmente al mediodía, toma su auto, va a su casa a almorzar, luego le hace el amor a su mujer, se fuma uno de sus excelentes cigarrillos y vuelve a trabajar."

"¡Ah, bueno!, ¡menos mal!, no hay nada malo en todo eso."


"Puedo tutearlo, señor?" pregunta el detective.

"Sí, como no", responde sorprendido el director general.

"Repito: López sale normalmente al mediodía, toma tu auto, va a tu casa a almorzar, luego le hace el amor a tu mujer, se fuma uno de tus excelentes cigarrillos y vuelve a trabajar."

Vuestra merced

'Usted' derives from 'vuestra merced' (literally your mercy), meaning your grace, your honour, your worship, or your highness (though a king is addressed 'su alteza'); and is voiced in the third person. 'Vuestra merced' was first used in colonial times and has evolved down through many forms to 'vusted', then 'usted'; abbreviated 'Vd.' or 'Ud.' (Some say the evolution has continued, through 'usté', to 'u'té'!)


Which to use

More from the wordreference forum:

"Usted nowadays is just a polite form that you use to talk to someone you do not know, to someone who is much older than you, to talk to someone showing respect. If you want to go one step farther, you can ask 'puedo tutearlo?', and if the person agrees, you can start using 'tú'."

Alternatively, you can ask them to 'tú' you: "Tutéame, por favor."

Or you can heed the old Yorkshire advice to follow the person you're talking with: "Thee thou them as thou's thee, and not afore."


For a full explanation in Spanish of the use of the forms 'tú' and 'usted' see this page on Protocolo y Etiqueta, where there's lots of valuable advice on correct behaviour in Spain.

There's a 'Notes from Spain' podcast on the subject of tu and usted.

Joke from extrasensorial.com.
More info (in English): Formal and informal 'you'.

tutear, to address as 'tú' (regular '-ar' verb)

Main image: La Confianza ('Confidence') by Francisco de Goya.

Amor y deseo.

Is it love you feel, or is it desire?

Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset explores the difference:

"Desiring something is, without doubt, a move toward possession of that something ('possession' meaning that in some way or other the object should enter our orbit and become part of us). For this reason, desire automatically dies when it is fulfilled; it ends with satisfaction. Love, on the other hand, is eternally unsatisfied.

Desire has a passive character; when I desire something, what I actually desire is that the object come to me. Being the center of gravity, I await things to fall down before me. Love, as we shall see, is the exact reverse of desire, for love is all activity. Instead of the object coming to me, it is I who go to the object and become part of it. In the act of love, the person goes out of himself. Love is perhaps the supreme activity which nature affords anyone for going out of himself [/herself] toward something else. It does not gravitate toward me, but I toward it."

In Spanish:

"Desear algo es, en definitiva, tendencia a la posesión de ese algo; donde posesión significa, de una u otra manera, que el objeto entre en nuestra órbita y venga como a formar parte de nosotros. Por esta razón, el deseo muere automáticamente cuando se logra; fenece al satisfacerse. El amor, en cambio, es un eterno satisfecho.

El deseo tiene un carácter pasivo, y en rigor lo que deseo al desear es que el objeto venga a mí. Soy centro de gravitación, donde espero que las cosas vengan a caer. Viceversa: en el amor todo es actividad, según veremos. Y en lugar de consistir en que el objeto venga a mí, soy yo quien va al objeto y estoy en él. En el acto amoroso, la persona sale fuera de sí: es tal vez el máximo ensayo que la Naturaleza hace para que cada cual salga de sí mismo hacia otra cosa. No ella hacia mí, sino yo gravito hacia ella."

If it is love you feel, then you'd best be prepared. These are the words of the Lebanese Kahlil Gibran, from The Prophet:

"When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses
your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots
and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire,
that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you
that you may know the secrets of your heart,
and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart."

In Spanish:

"Cuando el amor os llame, seguidlo.
Aunque su camino sea duro y penoso.
Y entregaos a sus alas que envuelven.
Aunque la espada escondida entre ellas os hiera.

Y creed en él cuando os hable.
Aunque su voz aplaste vuestros sueños,
como hace el viento del norte,
el viento que arrasa los jardines.
Porque, así como el amor os da gloria, así os crucifica.
Así como os da abundancia, así os poda.

Así como se remonta a lo más alto
y acaricia vuestras ramas más débiles,
que se estremecen bajo el sol.
Así caerá hasta vuestras raíces
y las sacudirá en un abrazo con la tierra.

Como a gavillas de trigo él os une a vosotros mismos.
Os desgarra para desnudaros.
Os cierne, para libraros de los pliegues que cubren vuestra figura.
Os pulveriza hasta volveros blancos.
Os amasa, para que lo dócil y lo flexible renazca de vuestra dureza.
Y os destina luego a su fuegro sagrado,
para que podáis ser sagrado pan en la sagrada fiesta de Dios.

Todo esto hará el amor en vosotros para acercaros al conocimiento de vuestro corazón y convertiros, por ese conocimiento, en fragmento del corazón de la Vida."

If you're avoiding love, you'd best beware:

"But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears."

In Spanish:

"Pero si vuestro miedo os hace buscar solamente la paz y el placer de amor,
Entonces sería mejor que cubrierais vuestra desnudez y os alejarais de sus umbrales,
Hacia un mundo sin primavera donde reiréis, pero no con toda vuestra risa, y lloraréis, pero no con todas vuestras lágrimas."

Estudios Sobre el Amor by José Ortega y Gasset, translated into English by Toby Talbot.
El Profeta, The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran, translated into Spanish by Halet Soleiman Bahadur.

Available to read online:
The Prophet.
El Profeta.

Image: from Le Jeu de Colin-Maillard ('Blind-man's buff') by Francisco de Goya.

Dalí's daisy.

Enric Bernat put sweets on sticks so children wouldn't get sticky fingers and parents wouldn't get upset about the mess. He wanted to create a product that would be like "eating a sweet with a fork”. He founded Chupa Chups SA in Asturias in 1957; now headquartered in Barcelona.

His lollipop was first named Gol (goal), because of its spherical shape; later changed to Chups. To promote the lolly, a song was created for the radio, with the chorus line: 'Chupa chupa chupa un Chups' (Suck suck suck a Chups); but kids who'd heard the song asked for 'chupa Chups' in the shops, so the name was changed.

In 1969, wanting a new logo, Enric Bernat went to Figueras to see Salvador Dalí. In less than an hour, Dalí had designed the daisy-flower Chupa-Chups logo which the lollies have worn ever since.

chupar to suck
aspirar to suck in/up
lisonjear to suck up to someone

also:
una chupa a short jacket
lamer to lick

Here's a brilliant Dalí site, in English, Spanish, Catalan and French.

Added February 25th:
Whilst checking my pings (if that's what it's called) I came across this E-pop post about Chupa-Chups with similar info, in Spanish.

'You must look until it hurts.'

"A mystery of time, history, lost centuries, a past too prolonged, hope perpetually deferred, a language which is also an ethic, an ethic which speaks by signs, an art of speech derived from an oral literature, an oral literature that contains the experience of a people - a kind of experience that borders on the metaphysical - a knowledge of human nature and character which is almost like the individual knowledge of someone exceptionally gifted in expressing his feelings...
Spain is disturbing. And you can't just visit it like a museum, paying your entrance fee. It needs more than that: love and the deep respect which creates an inevitable bond. Spain demands of its visitor certain virtues, and the first of these, to my mind, is the courage to see. You must look until it hurts."

from Spain, by Dominique Aubier and Manuel Tuñon de Lara;
translated by Neline C Clegg; Studio Vista, 1960.
Photo © 2006 S Carlos

Multi-layered Madrid techno.

If you're into hard house, acid, techno, drum & bass and such like, then here's a brilliant link - you'll thank me for this: masses of long dj mixes free to download at bangingtunes.com.

This is a half-hour mix of Madrid techno, described as 'dark, consistent, constant mixing of pounding, eerie white labels with live sampling and fx.'

Here's a great 'twisting psy trance mix' - it's had me cleaned out now four times round.

Mixes: Madrid techno: The Well: Meatgarden by Moogz
twisting psy trance: Rough Around the Edges by Just Dave
Image © 2006 S Carlos

'Aranj-U-ez' from Atocha.

'j' followed by 'u'

In Atocha Station, wanting to go to Aranjuez, I enquired at the desk. Being confused about pronounciation of 'g's and 'j's followed by 'u's and 'e's (or 'i's) and use of the sound 'ch' (as in Scottish 'loch' or German 'Bach'), I pronounced the town name: Aran-'ch'-eth.

The lady behind the desk, correcting me, very clearly (though politely) enunciated: Arran-'ch'-WH-ayth.

If you're not sure, here's the Castilian rules on 'g's and 'j's:

g before e or i = 'ch', as in 'loch' (gente - people)
g before a or o = 'g', as in 'go' (garaje - garage)

gu before e or i = 'g', as in 'go' (guerra - war)
gu before a or o = 'goo', as in 'guano' (guante - glove)

gü before e or i = 'goo', as in 'guano' (vergüenza - shame)

j before any vowel = 'ch', as in 'loch' (Jerez, Maja)

ju before any vowel = 'wh', as in 'when', strongly aspirated (jueves - Thursday. And Aranjuez)

Picture shows the Royal Palace of Aranjuez.
Photo © 2006 S Carlos

Avatar robado.

Beware of identity theft!

Not wishing to plaster my gorgeous self over the web, risk becoming a viral image, or be identified as this person writing (due to extreme shyness and fear of avengers and evangelists), I found what I thought would suit me for a persona in this engraving of a dashing mustachioed man. I especially liked the tattoo on his chest, which reads: 'FORGET ME NOT'.

However, I've now discovered that he's not anonymous. He's Mr Frank Burgh: he and his wife were famous for their tattoos.

Here they are in The Picture Magazine of June 1893:

(Click image to enlarge)

The text reads:

MR. FRANK BURGH - MRS. FRANK BURGH
Mr. and Mrs. Frank Burgh are Americans, and have been showing the public how tattooing has been brought to a fine art. The tattooing is done in the ordinary way, and the tints are also beautifully assorted - the finish being perfect. The chest of Mr. Frank Burgh shows a pattern of beautifully designed flowers, among which reclines the figure of Mrs. Burgh. The lady's shoulders are adorned with representations of well-known Biblical incidents.

(I think I liked her hair better in the tattoo.)

Sadly, it seems that we did forget: a search on Google for - "frank burgh" tattoo - returns absolutely nothing. Well, he's here now.

According to Spanish philosopher Miguel de Unamuno, not only do we desire immortality, but the immortality of our friends and family, of our homes and nations, and of all aspects of life.
(El Sentimiento Trágico de la Vida)
Added Februrary 9th:
I was so pleased for Frank, look:

But there's a somewhat dull ending to this story of the creation of immortality for a man who did not wish to be forgotten. The Picture Magazine of 1893 got his name wrong; there's a Frank and Emma deBurgh listed at the Tattoo Archive. (And Emma's had her hair cut yet again!)

Some great Spanish listening.

I referred in a previous post to a great BBC Spanish course called 'Tal Como Es'. Well, there's a feast of similar listening available now on Notes from Spain.

Ten minutes of Spanish podcast a day, for 31 days.

Tres Majas y más.

Jabón Maja

We've all seen a million of these: in every souvenir shop on every road in every resort, and in every airport too. The lady with the fan on the red and black wrapper has possibly become the archetypal Spanish señorita. And it really is a great souvenir. Wash your hands with it, and whenever you bring your hand near your face you smell the rose and jasmine fragrance; that fresh, clean smell that reminds you of Spain.

Myrurgia, the company that makes Maja (check out their amazing website), was founded in Barcelona in 1916 by a Catalan sculptor, Esteban Monegal Prat.

"En 1916, el escultor catalán Esteban Monegal Prat fundó Myrurgia en el corazón de Barcelona. Desde sus inquietudes artísticas, supo dotar a su empresa de una personalidad, de una dimensión creativa y de una filosofía de innovación constante que ha perdurado, tanto en la concepción de sus nuevos productos como en el diseño de sus planes de expansión."
From a business press release, the Story of Myrurgia.

Other famous Majas

La Maja Desnuda
The Naked Maja, painted by Francisco de Goya between 1797 and 1800, is said to be the first depiction of pubic hair in Western art*.

La Maja Vestida (The Clothed Maja)
Goya also painted the same woman identically posed, but clothed. It's not known who she is.

In 1815, Goya was summoned by the Spanish Inquisition about the 'obscene' La Maja Desnuda, and consequently stripped of his position as the Spanish court painter.
From the story of La Maja Desnuda.

Hairdo from Spain

Here's a lovely piece by Ysabel de la Rosa, an American lady living in Madrid getting herself a Spanish hairdo in Barcelona, and being complimented: "Qué maja" (how charming).

Meanings of Maja

Real Academia Española definition of 'maja':
"Dicho de una persona: Que en su porte, acciones y vestidos afecta un poco de libertad y guapeza, más propia de la gente ordinaria."

Maja, or Maia, was the name of the Roman goddess of spring, the wife of Vulcan. The month of May is named for her. In Greek and Roman mythology she was the eldest of the Pleiades, the group of seven stars in the constellation Taurus, who were the daughters of Atlas and Pleione. Her son by Zeus was Hermes.
(Source: behindthename.com.)

"You shall not be called Thumbelina any more," said the tiny king. "You shall be called Maia."
from Little Tiny or Thumbelina, Hans Christian Andersen.

Maya, 'illusion' in Hinduism, prevents us from knowing ourselves. She preoccupies us with mind games.

But, perhaps the most apposite definition of 'maja' here is that given by Wikipedia.

A majo or maja was a member of the nineteenth-century Madrid artistic scene, who distinguished themselves by their pure, gracious use of the Castilian language and their elaborate outfits.

The term later became a more general word meaning 'pretty' or 'nice looking' (synonymous with bonito). More recently, 'majo/a' is used as a synonym of simpático to refer to someone who is 'nice' or has a pleasant personality; with the diminutive 'majete' and the superlative 'majísimo'.

* I don't believe this. It'll probably come down to 'what is Art?'. Surely someone, somewhere in several thousand years or more must have picked up a burnt stick and depicted his thoughts.

Added March 24th:
Dos Majos y una Moza

Dos Majos y una Moza by Lorenzo Tiepolo (una moza: young girl, lass)

Free accents.

Following on from the previous post, on character codes, here's something very useful. It's a great little free program called MoreKeys.

It opens in a small window that's always on top; and it gives you, at hand, all the accented letters in Albanian, Catalán, Danish, Dutch, Finnish, French, Gaelic, German, Icelandic, Italian, Norwegian, Portuguese, Spanish and Swedish, as well as some useful symbols and fractions (€ ƒ ‰ £ § ® ¶ ‹ ›  † ™ ¢ ¥ © ¼ ½ ¾ & ¡¿!?).

CSS drop cap.

Ha! I always wanted to do a dropped capital. If you want to get into CSS, or just borrow (it's OK'd) some tricks for your blog, there's a great site called CSS Play. It's an easy way to pick up CSS, with only small pieces of code to think about at a time. I'm itching to do some sort of CSS popups: he has a good one giving character codes (for which I'm often stuck).

The power of punctuation.

I just finished 'Eats, Shoots & Leaves' by Lynne Truss.

It's a very good read, and pretty much definitive on punctuation; the purpose of which, according to a Thomas McCormack, is 'to tango the reader into the pauses, inflexions, continuities and connections' of the spoken word.

I thought this an interesting point:

In translating the Bible from the Hebrew, which had no punctuation, arguments arise over how some passages, like this (Luke, xxiii, 43), should be interpreted:

Protestant interpretation of passage:
"Verily, I say unto thee, This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise."

Catholic interpretation of passage:
"Verily I say unto thee this day. Thou shalt be with me in Paradise."

A couple of other amusements:

"What is this thing called, love?"
"He shot himself as a child." (...shot, himself, as...)

Virtuoso ukelele.

George Harrison's 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' played on the ukelele.

Some of the comments:

"Beautifully played,"
"cet artiste est épatant !!!!" ('top hole')
"awesome I really got down with my badself with this one."
"héhéhé pas mal!!!"
"wow... snif..."

Baraja española.

Baraja española, the Spanish deck. Aren't they lovely? - fascinating, colourful designs; pretty to play with.

Spanish-style cards are 'Latin-suited': with suits named coins (oros), cups (copas), swords (espadas), and batons (bastos). These are the original suits, the suits found on the divinatory Tarot deck, and the suits found in the oldest surviving European decks.

The suits depict the most important classes in medieval times: merchants (coins), clergy (cups), nobility (swords) and peasants (clubs). Coins equal diamonds; cups, hearts; swords, spades; and batons, clubs.

They're normally sold as a 48-card pack, with numerals 1 to 9, and court cards labelled 10, 11 and 12; though many games use only 40 cards, omitting the 8 and 9. You can buy 52-card packs, though (+ jokers, see below).

Spanish-style cards are also used in many parts of Italy, northern Africa, parts of the west coast of France and in Latin America.

Some expressions which originate from card playing:
Cantar las cuarenta - to give someone a piece of one's mind
Barajar varias posibilidades - to toy with various possibilities
Tener un as en la manga - to have an ace up one's sleeve
Ser un as - to be an ace

Jose's Page on Games with the Spanish Pack (in English).
Heraclio Fournier's page of games, each as pdf (in Spanish).
Serena's Guide to Divination and Fortune Telling with Spanish Playing Cards (in English).

In software: 65 classical Spanish solitaires with the 'beautifully designed, award-winning, artistic' Fournier cards. (in English. Download free 21-day demo. $12.95 to buy.)

Some card tricks (in English).
A History of Playing Cards (in English).
The origins of the Tarot (in Spanish).

Something else to do with a few packs of cards.

Lorca's tuberoses.

On an earlier post I quoted from Lorca's essay, 'Theory and Function of the Duende'. This was a speech, first given by Lorca in Havana in 1933. It is translated in the 1959 Penguin anthology of Lorca by Joan Gili.

Here's a link to the text in English (though this is not Gili's translation).

The poet Ted Hughes first discovered Lorca's works in Gili's 'admirable anthology'. He considered Lorca's 'Theory and Function of the Duende' the 'unsurpassed articulation of the possibilities of Theatre'. (Hughes' version of Blood Wedding, which premiered in London in 1996, is described as one of the most intense dramatisations of the work by Lorca in any language.)

I first came across Lorca, too, in this Penguin edition, and noticed Gili's translation of 'nardos', a word Lorca uses a lot ('the ubiquitous nardo'). Gili translates 'nardos' as 'tuberoses', and it seemed a reasonable word to find in a surrealist's poem, given the tuberous shapes in some of Dali's paintings.

Some of Lorca's 'nardos':

From Malagueña:
Y hay un olor a sal
y a sangre de hembra
en nardos febriles
de la marina.

translated by Gili: And there is a smell of salt and woman's blood in the feverish tuberoses of the sea-shore.

From Serenata:
La noche canta desnuda
sobre los puentos de marzo.
Lolita lava su cuerpo
con agua salobre y nardos.

by Gili: The night sings above the bridges of March. Lolita bathes her body with salt water and tuberoses.

From La Aurora:
La aurora de Nueva York gime
por las inmensas escaleras
buscando entre las aristas
nardos de angustia dibujada.

by Gili: New York's daybreak moans along the immense stairways, seeking between ledges tuberoses of delineated anguish.

From Gili's translation, I had an image of Lorca's 'tuberose' as something tuberous; even, in the context of his 'sea-shore' and 'bathes her body', something like a 'loofa'. I perceived it as like the shapes in this letter M; and later (with different graphics software) as these trumpet-shaped plant-like forms:

'Tuberose' is, in fact, the given common name for Polyanthes tuberosa. This is what English-speaking horticulturists call it.

Chambers Dictionary gives 'tuberose' as meaning 'tuberous'; but goes on to say, "often, by false association with tube and rose, a Mexican amaryllid (Polyanthes tuberosa) grown for its fragrant creamy-white flowers, propagated by tubers" (?)

Larousse Diccionario Moderno gives 'nardo' as 'nard, spikenard'; though this is defined as Nardostachys jatamans, not Polyanthes tuberosa. The Weekly Wire notes a translation of 'Poet in New York' in which nardo is translated as "spikenard".

Collins Paperback Spanish Dictionary gives 'nardo' as 'lily'.

Real Academia Española Dictionary gives 'nardo' as 'Planta de la familia de las Liliáceas'.

Meaning

From Las Flores en La Poesía Española: "Lorca emplea nardos, claveles y rosas para simbolizar la blancura y el contraste con la sangre." (Lorca uses 'nardos', carnations and roses to symbolize whiteness in contrast with blood.)

In the language of flowers, popular in Victorian Times, 'Tuberose' appears, signifying 'dangerous pleasures'.

As the 'nardo' is a member of the lily family, perhaps, to English ears at any rate, a translation of 'nardos' as 'lilies', would have better conveyed Lorca's meaning.

Liz Henry, a literary translator, discusses 'nardo' on her blog. She considers its use in poetry in a context of a sexy, morbid, funereal splendor and perhaps of a heavy overpowering incense. She offers 'scented lily', 'costly balm', 'myrrh' and 'fragrant valerian' as possibilities.

Polyanthes tuberosa

I couldn't get a picture of an actual tuberose without paying $79.95, so here's a link to that beautiful picture. (Some of the keywords attached to this image are: fragrant flower, polyanthus lily, mexican flower.)

There are some lovely comments made about the plant, including: 'It is a unique flower - possibly the one which is used in every sphere of the Indian - Hindu life'; 'The Flowers of this plant blossom in the night and should you happen to pass by this plant in the night you will be engulfed by its sweet smell'; 'I have never smelled anything so romantic or captivating';
'The Tuberose (polianthes tuberosa), is a flower that is both mythical and magical, its nectar said by some to have special powers and its scent magical to all who experience it'.

At the time of the Spanish conquest, Polianthes tuberosa was already entirely domesticated by the indigenous civilizations of Mexico who used the essential oil of the plant to flavor chocolate. (mmm!)

About the plant: in Spanish, in English.
Good sites on Lorca: in Spanish, in English.
A pdf on the difficulties of translating Lorca.
More on Ted Hughes.

In Argentina nardos are eaten - and, from the recipe, do seem to be something tuberous!

Una risa inglesa.

A father was reading Bible stories to his young son. He read: "The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city but his wife looked back and was turned to salt." His son asked: "What happened to the flea?"

Otro:
A flea and a fly in a flue
were imprisoned so what could they do?
Said the flea "let us fly"
said the fly" let us flee"
so they flew through a flaw in the flue.

Less pain in Spain.

Spain is the first country in Europe to give patients access to Sativex outside a clinical trial.

GW Pharmaceuticals has reached agreement with the Health Department of The Regional Government of Catalonia to supply the herbal extract. The programme will be coordinated by the Catalan Institute of Pharmacology with six Catalan hospitals participating.

Sativex, a cannabis extract which is sprayed under the tongue, is to be supplied to 600 patients suffering from multiple sclerosis and a number of other conditions under a compassionate access programme. The programme will include an evaluation of safety and tolerability and an assessment of impact on quality of life.

Notable point: A Judge in Germany criticising criminal prosecution of severely ill persons who use cannabis, said: "Why don't we allow a man with such a heavy burden some good days".
(Source: International Association for Cannabis as Medicine)

Image: El Quitasol by Francisco de Goya y Luciente.
About Goya: in English, in Spanish.

Lo Tengo el tango.

This wine bottle label does the tango, sort of. It's lenticular printing; where prepared images are overlaid with a plastic sheet ridged with lines of lenses. I love lenticulars. I have a pretty Japanese girl on the wall, who winks when I pass by.

medio/media?

A few years ago (truly) I had ordered a bottle of red wine in a restaurant, then decided to make it a half bottle. I shouted "medio" to the waiter's back. He returned with a full bottle of medium red wine.

Mejillones en escabeche.

Mejillones en escabeche en lata. Beautiful, bright orange, fat and juicy mussels in a lovely oily orange sauce. A canned snack. Portable tapas; bring your own cocktail stick. Great for food on the go: bread, cheese and a can of these make a tasty picnic.

Escabeche ('pickled') is a spicy marinade of Spanish origin, used to season and preserve fried (occasionally poached) fish and sometimes poultry. It consists of vinegar or lime juice, onions, peppers and spices. It's found with similar names in North Africa (scabetche), Jamaica (escovitch), Italy (escabecio or scavece) and South America (escabeche !).

Here's a recipe for a delicious snack, using two tins of mejillones en escabeche and a 200g carton of Philadelphia cheese. Basically, you just beat the hell out of the lot and spread it on bread or toast. Fantastic. (You can add tuna or chopped hard-boiled egg, too.)

In Spanish, the instructions read:

"Volcamos en un recipiente para batidora el queso de untar y las latas de mejillones. En un pis pás, nos ponemos a batir la mezcla como desesperados, y cuando lo tengamos bien batido, lo usaremos para untar rebanadas de pan normal o de molde."

Babel Fish translates that as:

"We overturned in a container for beater the cheese to grease and tins of mejillones. In piss pás, we put ourselves to beat the mixture like desperate, and when we have or milkshake, we will use it to grease slices of normal bread or mold."

A Spanish recipe for making your own Mejillones en Escabeche;
and lots of recipes for mejillones in general.

My 'Winky'.

This is my new toy - it's called a 'WINKY'. Actually it's only borrowed, from a very young person. It teaches Spanish spelling, pronunciation and vocabulary. Of course, it's made for Spanish infants, but I'm no better. And every little bit helps. Good, isn't it, kids? ('ñ', but no 'ch' or 'll'?)
Here's how to spell 'rana'.

I've accumulated various Spanish learning tools over the years. My method is: least hard work, maximum pleasure - which means I start a lot. But, whenever I start a new course, I re-affirm the basics, and learn new bits not in other courses. The consequence is that I know bits from all over the place and a lot from the beginning but, so far, nothing much serious beyond the rudiments of the past tenses and slight encounters with the subjunctive.

Probably my all-time favourite is a 1977 second-year radio course by the BBC called 'Tal Como Es'. There are two tapes, each with ten interviews with Spanish people from all over the country in a variety of occupations and situations. I never get fed up with listening to it, because there's no English whatsoever, except (I think it's in this course) when a man who'd worked in Eastbourne says, "fregando platos, the washing-up".

Apart from vinyl, cassette, video and CD courses, I've got books picked up from all over the place. This 'Dijes y Joyas' piece is from a 1929 course called 'Primeros Pinitos'. Of course all these old books make me very 'usted' inclined. But I've got others, like 'Diccionario de Argot Español', which is handy if you insult, or get insulted, a lot. Here is an online equivalent.

This is a useful one, as you may already know. The 'Oxford-Duden Pictorial Spanish and English Dictionary' has 384 sections like the image below, each covering a separate subject, with drawings annotated in English and Spanish (29,000 items).



There have been times when my focus on learning the language was strong: attending regular classes, weekend courses and, once, a fortnight's course in Madrid. At a time of much immersion I experienced a feeling like having a window opened in the side of my head. I had a glimpse of understanding from a Spanish perspective. I believe in this feeling: a study of words and their derivation (etymology) reveals history and culture; with words developing and evolving from invasions, political changes, fashion changes and such. So, I think it a fair view that learning a language, with its imbued history and culture, must also precipitate a new way of seeing and understanding.

¿Adónde vas?

A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village. An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

"Not very long," answered the Mexican.

"But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the American.

The Mexican explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.

The American asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

"I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, play the guitar, and sing a few songs... I have a full life."

The American interrupted, "I have an MBA from Harvard, and I can help you! You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat."

"And after that?" asked the Mexican.

"With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers. Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can then negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, Los Angeles, or even New York City! From there you can direct your huge new enterprise."

"How long would that take?" asked the Mexican.

"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied the American.

"And after that?"

"Afterwards? Well, my friend, that's when it gets really interesting," answered the American, laughing. "When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!"

"Millions? Really? And after that?" said the Mexican.

"After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta with your wife and spend your evenings doing what you like and enjoying your friends."

The moral is:
Know where you're going in life...
you may already be there.

Moscatel and 'Moscatel'.

Blogging intermittently - still busy.

That calendar job was done; then came ID for a new company; and now a newsletter's to be done. So I'm still buried - today with a bottle of Moscatel* - and, for full immersion, listening to 'Moscatel', sung by Juanito Valderrama.

I can't find the song 'Moscatel' on the internet, but you can hear Valderrama's 'El Emigrante'.

These are the first few lines:

Tengo que hacer un rosario
con tus dientes de marfil
para que pueda besarlo
cuando esté lejos de ti,
sobre sus cuentas divinas
hechas de nardo y jazmín
rezaré pá que me ampare
aquella que está en San Gil.

I was interested to note that the word 'nardo' appears here. This flower name is used frequently by Lorca, and appears variously translated as 'tuberose', 'lily' and 'spikenard'. I plan to post again on Lorca's 'tuberoses'.

* a liqueurous wine.

Un viaje a la feria.

A journey in stereo across Barcelona: from El Liceu to Tibidabo by metro, foot, tram and funicular.

Hear the street sounds of the city: the traffic, passers-by and performers; the journey and, when you get to the top, the fun at the fair.

Take the second train that comes; walk across the Plaza de Cataluña; another train and a tram, coast in on the funicular, and we're there - at the fair. (All journeys are much shortened here.)

It's about 24 minutes in all, and it gets noisy at times.
It's all loud anyway (first I've done): please adjust volume accordingly.

Listening might be a bit risky if you are in motion, as some of the sounds will confuse with live street sounds.

Visit the Tibidabo site (in English, Spanish and Catalan).

Escucha: Play mp3

Keep trying.

I've had no time to post here lately. I got busy. I'm locked in my room, only going out for absolute essentials (tobacco and food and ice lollies!). I've been commissioned to produce graphics for a 2006 calendar. I prefer to work in total immersion. Switch off from the outside physical world, research and cram for ideas, then let whatever's there flow, working from dawn 'til the small hours, days running into weeks, until it's done. Great fun.

This is an image from last (this) year's calendar. The theme was old masters montaged and manipulated by computer. This one represents November in the UK. I started with the portrait of Donna Isaabel Cobos de Porcel by Francisco de Goya (royalty-free image), because she represented for me the dark mood of the month and time of year. Her pink hair is a thistle flower, representing Scotland (St Andrew's Day). The bare trees and lowering skies represent autumn; the fireworks, Guy Fawkes' night (that's the annual burning of an effigy of a man who tried to blow up parliament in 1605 - yes, 400 years ago: barbaric, isn't it?); the scorpion represents Scorpio; and the poppies and crying figure, Remembrance Sunday (remembering war dead). (The figure, Sorrow, is one corner of a statue in Arnhem War Cemetery, Holland.)

New Orleans.

OK, this is the last post on Absinthe (for now), but I couldn't resist its appositeness and topicality. It's art from the absinthe era (late 1800s): 'Absinthe House, New Orleans', by Guy Pene du Bois*.

George Bush has promised: "And here in New Orleans, the street cars will once again rumble down St. Charles, and the passionate soul of a great city will return."
But this city's passionate soul is not so easily recreated, for it was formed from a rich cultural past, many aspects of which are repugnant or embarrassing to today's 'respectable' society. I fear that once more the real juice of history will be watered down a little further, cleaned up, sanitized, reset in modernized form in concrete and plastic that: 'You can touch, but you can't feel'.

* Painting shown by permission: Curtis Galleries, Minneapolis, MN.

Absinthe's alchemy...

"Robert  Jordan  pushed  the  cup  toward  him.  It was a milky 
yellow now with the water and he hoped the gyspy would not
take more than a swallow.   There was very little  left of  it and
one cup of  it took the place of  the evening papers,  of  all the
old evenings in cafés,  of  all chestnut trees  that would be in
bloom  now  this  month,   of  the  great slow horses  of  the
outer  boulevards,  of  book shops,  of  kiosques,   and  of
galleries, of the Parc Montsouris, of the Stade Buffalo,
and of the Butte Chaumont,  of  the Guaranty Trust
Company and the Ile de la Cité,  of  Foyot's  old
hotel,and of being able to read and relax in
the evening;  of all the things he had
enjoyed and forgotten and that
came back to him when
he  tasted  the
 opaque,
 bitter,
 tongue-
 numbing,
 brain-
 warming,
  stomach-
warming,  idea-changing liquid alchemy."
from For Whom the Bell Tolls, Ernest Hemingway.

Café Absenta.

My latest tipple, which I thoroughly recommend:
Black Cat Coffee Absinthe*, made in Tarragona.

Absinthe has been considered a vivifying elixir since ancient times. It contains thujone, a chemical present in wormwood which, apparently, mildly increases the firing of neural synapses. Sounds good to me. Thujone is found in several plants, including wormwood (Artemesia Absinthium), sage, tansy, clary and cedar.

I'm drinking it today just with water, though I've been drinking it with ice, lemon and soda water. Delightful:

Smell: caramel, coffee.
Taste: (I sip now) a first burst of aniseed flavour, reminiscent of plain absinthe, quickly blends into a sweeter taste which flows into burnt caramel and coffee, leaving a final very pleasant warm coffee lingering on the palate.

Absinthe was effectively banned throughout Europe early last century, and has been unavailable outside of Portugal, Spain and Switzerland. It never was illegal in the UK, but no one told us. Thujone and drinks containing it are still illegal in the USA, though most sites say importing absinthe for personal enjoyment is not an issue. And people do it.

A famous absinthe site: Le Fee Verte (the green fairy).
Some good stuff on absinthe and thujone.
The Return of the Green Faerie by Modern Drunkard magazine.
You can buy absinthe online.

* "Teichenné se complace de ofrecerles el licor de Café Absenta Black Cat, elaborado a base de un destilado de Artemesia Absinthium de alto contenido en tuyonas, café y otras plantas aromáticas. Todo ésto confiere a ésta bebida un sabor único y delicioso."

Not nuts.

'Nut' in Spanish is 'nuez'. However, 'nuez' means only walnut. 'Nuts', as we classify them in English, come under 'frutos secos' here.

Horchata de Chufas
An ancient drink made from chufas, or tiger nuts, the tuberous roots of a sedge-family plant (so not a 'nut' at all, or a dried fruit), Horchata de Chufas is said to be named after a king's remark to a girl who had given him the drink: "aixo es or, xata" (this is gold, cutie - !): 'xata' being an affectionate Catalan term for a child.
Make your own horchata - from tiger nuts or from chufas.

And peanuts, or groundnuts, aren't nuts at all, either; neither in English nor Spanish - they're legumes (legumbres), same as peas and beans.

'Peanut' translates as 'cacahuete' or 'maní'; both Amerindian words.

Spannabis.

In a list published in the current print issue of Spannabis magazine, I counted the number of grow shops in mainland Spain. There are 128 listed. That's very healthy: a sign that there is a live and flourishing subculture in Spain.

As long as these businesses thrive in a country we may be sure that the thought police are inactive and that the lawmakers and authorities are engaging themselves with matters of true concern.

There is another sign, too, in this same area, of Spain's sensible tolerance, as reported earlier in El País:

"Starting this autumn about 600 patients will be enrolled in clinical studies to treat different diseases with the cannabis extract Sativex.
If the treatment of chemotherapy-induced nausea and vomiting proves to be effective it is intended to treat another 240 patients with Sativex, which will be imported from Canada."

Unfortunately for English sufferers, Sativex is not yet approved in the UK, where it was developed and produced; though it's been available in Canadian pharmacies since 20 June 2005.

"Picasso can’t paint a tree."

The English Royal Academician, Alfred Munnings, after looking at Picasso's work for the first time, remarked:

“Picasso can’t paint a tree.”

Picasso replied, when he was told of this insult:

“No, he’s right. I can’t paint a tree. But I can paint the feeling you have when you look at a tree.”

¡Viva Paris!

"Pastora Pavón finished singing in the midst of silence. Only a little man, one of those emasculated dancers who suddenly spring up from behind bottles of white brandy, said sarcastically in a very low voice: 'Viva Paris!', as if to say: 'Here we do not care for ability, technique or mastery. Here we care for something else.'

At that moment La Niña de los Peines got up like a woman possessed, broken as a medieval mourner, drank without pause a large glass of cazalla, a fire-water brandy, and sat down to sing without voice, breathless, without subtlety, her throat burning, but... with duende."

from 'Theory and Function of the Duende' by Federico García Lorca. Translation by J L Gili.
Image © 2005 S Carlos

Valladolid links.

• Just about everything about Valladolid - a beautifully-designed and colourful site, a real pleasure to look at, in Spanish, French, English and German.
• For an amazing resource for online reference, take a look at Valladolid Public Library's Biblioteca Virtual.
• If you're into solving programming problems (I'm not), like The Cat in the Hat or Ugly Numbers, check out Valladolid University's Problem Set Archive.
• According to Wikipedia, Vallisoletanos are reputed to speak the purest Castilian of all of Spain - but it's a myth (they say).

El Gran Hermano te vigila.

In Valladolid, in a two-star hostal, in room 101.
Habitación 101 - pero éste no es el año 1984 y no hay jaulas sobre la cabeza con las ratas hambrientas que amenazan comer mi cara: "¡No, no, yo no! ¡Hágalo a ella!".

"Tras confesar O´Brien sus verdaderos sentimientos de odio al Gran Hermano, lo envían a la Habitación 101. En dicho habitación se encuentra lo peor del mundo de cada individuo. En su caso lo peor era las ratas. La única forma de salvarse era interponer a alguien, en su caso a Julia. Gritaba que por favor le echasen las ratas a ella, y eso le salvó. Luego se encontró con Julia, y ambos se confesaron su traición."

Puede leer el resumen del libro 1984
Puede ver un blog titulado La Habitación 101
Y otro blog de interés por Puzzle

Traductores ¡cuidado!

La Mexicana.

Room 306, Hostal La Mexicana, Santander
- a quaint, strangely-shaped room.

¿Impresionado?

At the ship's roulette table a guy was hanging round who fancied his chances with the very fanciable croupier. She did some fancy croupier moves, looked at him and said, sardonically: "Impressed?".

Nothing in Portsmouth.

A small part of a large hoarding (hence the seam).

Ferry godmother.

¿Intercambio Duro?

I've been hearing and reading about 'intercambio' (language students swop mother tongues, with possible pillow talk) at www.notesfromspain.com - it seems Portsmouth has its own version.

Bebiendo.

Le bon cidre de la belle france, et l'amusements avec plume apres quelques bouteilles.

¡Estela!

Wake! Wake! Wake! Wake!





Let all your negatives, all your doubts and distrusts, uncertainties, pasts, failures, failings, whatever, fall over the edge of the boat into the water and rush away with the wake, fading further and further into the distance, 'til gone.

Otros pasajeros.

Pasajero disgustado.

A passenger is upset about the price of something these days.

En el barco.

De Plymouth a Santander. (No sé si la palabra correcta es 'barco' o 'vapor' - mi libro de frases esta muy antiguo.)

equipaje y silla...

Me levanto.

Me levanto, y me preparo para esta vida virtual en que hay tiendas turísticas llenas de regalos, castañuelas y mantillas; con dueñas viejas que gritan en voces altas, '¡Puede verlo sin tocarlo!'. (escucha) Este soy yo. Un guiri. No toco nada.

Wake up!

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

The cock crows where my rosemary grows,
though nobody knows why carrion crows
carry off little ducklings and chicks
when they're not even hungry,
or foxes raid henhouses for
murder and mayhem;
and badgers likewise.

(image: www.istockphoto.com)