Obama Interns with Spanish President Zapatero

Whether Barack Obama wins the presidency tonight or not we can rest assured that he gained an invaluable experience working for Spanish president Zapatero as his intern in La Moncloa.

Spain and its government is once again the butt of the joke for the fake news network The Onion. Bush, according to the Onion, was seriously thinking of placing Spain, alongside Iran, Iraq and North Korea, as one of the nations that form the "Axis of Evil."

I'm not a surveyor but based on most of the people I've talked to, I can say that Spaniards are predominantly for Obama, even if many of them can't make heads or tails out of the Republican-Democrat political distinction. But there are McCain supporters, one group even having the catchy name "Spain for McCain."

However, when it comes to teaching at a school, I believe strongly in keeping my political views to myself. Everyday the students put me on the rack, barraging me with questions and comments like, "Your for Obama aren't you. Come on Michael, tell us who your voting for. We here don't like McCain. We think Bush is stupid. I know your voting for Obama."

Yes, I've been getting this everyday, even a little from teachers.

And there was alot to say about this comment by Barack Obama in one of the debates. I was seeing the debates in an auditorium full of Spaniards and Americans at Casa de las Americas, an organization dedicated to creating cultural exchanges between Spain and the U.S. This comment made the room erupt with laughter and applause. Notice the expletive McCain repeats twice while Obama is speaking. But hey, for all I know McCain may be right.



This morning a tear came to my eye when I read in El Pais that over 75% of Americans registered to vote. The more I know that our next president will be elected by the will of our country's people, the more proud and happy I'll be.

Let's see what some of the Onion's most distinguished pundits have to say about Obama's internship.

Pinkity-Pop goes Spanish Pop

As serious as can be, I was reading the anguish and despair of Miguel de Unamuno's Tragic Sense of Life. Suddenly, from the coffee shop's TV, I hear what sounds like the soundtrack that bubbles out of Barbie's pink convertible as she rides through a three year old girl's imaginary Malibu. It's Nena Daconte's new hit in Spain, "Tenia tanto que darte" (I had so much to give you). At first, I was annoyed--as if some baby girl stole the cookies from my table. But it's too unabashedly cute and sugary to be dismissed. Those "tenia tanto"s that she keeps childishly cooing have the sound of some kitty from a Japanese cartoon show. That and those grinding punk power chords makes it a song to be loved, albeit in an ironical manner...of course. With a taste like a big lump of pink, chewy bubblegum, you'll soon be infected by it. You'll be thinking in light-bright colors for days.

Linguistic Politics in Regional Schools

Here is an article from the newspaper El Mundo, one of the three major newspapers of Spain (it's generally targeted towards a moderate to right-of-center audience). The article is by Manuel Romero and it appeared in today's edition (October 28, 2008). It was on the front page, next to a giant picture of Obama and the news of the attempted assasination. It should shed light on the heated education controversy over teaching classes in regional languages like Catalan and Gallego.



The following translation is my own.





The Textbooks of Catalonia and Galicia ridicule those who speak Spanish
The publishing house Castellnou identifies Martians as speakers of Spanish; Anaya turns to vignettes with clear racist content, and Xerais presents Castellano as an invading language.

A Catalan language manual says that “the Martians speak in Spanish” and a textbook of Galician literature claims that talking Castellano is “as if Michael Jackson made himself pass off as white.”
A large part of the Catalan and Galician textbooks accomplish, to the greatest extent possible, that there will be no scorn satisfied unless it comes with its dose of ridicule.


The use of Spanish is prohibited in all the teaching cycles of these two communities, but that is no obstacle for the native language manuals to battle it out against the Castillian language. They do this as if it was against a rival or a foreign enemy that needs to be ridiculed in front of their students.


Some Catalan texbooks that teach with the Castillian language constantly repeat formulas not too innocent, like the inclusion of certain articles that generate unanimous laughter among the students.


An example of this is the use, in a 3rd year manual of ESO (Secondary Compulsory Education) of the Catalan language from the publishors Castellnou, of this series of stories called The Martian men speak Spanish and the Martian women have no chest?


It's chosen so that students can complete exercises in the textbook that lend themselves to ridiculing Spanish and those students who use it, students who will no doubt be considered Martians. This is just a small sample of their linguistic pedagogy.


The continous references to Spanish as the language of the empire and the repeated allusions to Franco's regime is reflected in numerous vignettes and photographs that mix language and politics in school textbooks.


Another way they refer to the Castillian language transforms it into a foreign language, next to the official Catalan. Frequently, Spanish is presented solely as the language spoken by immigrants from Latin America.


The textbook of the Catalan Language published by La Galera, for 3rd year primary students, shows a world map with all the languages that Catalan children can hear in their streets. Spanish finds its origins in countries like Colombia and Ecuador, not in Spain, and is presented on the same level as Arabic, from the Moroccan immigrants, or Urdu, of the Pakistanis.


In Galicia, the treatment given to the Spanish language in their school textbooks is not much different. The manual of Galician Language Literature for 2nd year Bachelor Students, by Anaya, shows Galician citizens that have Castellano as their maternal language or as their language of choice in social relations.


The textbook, designed for 17 year old students, includes in their pages a comic strip with clear racist content. One vignette, known as The Galician Voice, shows a man that describes the following argument: “Speaking about the problem of standardizing the languages in Catalonia, I have pride in being Galician and speaking only Castellano.” The person he's talking to responds: “Then it's like Michael Jackson, who is black and makes an effort to be white.”


Racist humor is prohibited in majority of democratic countries. In this case, it has a educational mission. The manual from the publishing house Anaya justifies it by presenting the Galician language as a victim of Spanish. According to the manual, the linguistic process in Galicia leads to “the substitution of Gallego over Castellano, and this can only occur through an appropriate linguistic politics.”


The manuals pass on to students, in repeated forms, the idea that it is the Castillina language that threatens the Gallego language and that its speakers are found at a clear disadvantage and are its victims.


The linguistic conflict is presented to students in a very visual manner in the manual for 1st year Bachelor students from the publishing house Xerais. It includes a traffic sign in Spanish with sprayed-in corrections, turning it into Gallego. Furthermore, the bottom of the front page of the textbook also blames the Spanish language: “The pressure of Castellano not only has consequences on a social level, but also a lingustic one.”

A Chunk of Spain--The Spanish Tortilla

Tortilla de patatas, Tortilla espanola, Spanish omlette--some of the names given to what I think is the national dish. I'm a fan. A "bocadillo e tortilla" (Spanish omlette sandwich) is my food of choice at the canteen (or very small cafeteria) at school. I put ketchup and mayonnaise on my sandwich. By the way, mayonnaise is a very popular condiment to put on your fries, perhaps more so than ketchup.

Sometimes I buy my tortilla pre-made from the supermarket. I pop it in the microwave and cut my self some slices. It is a joy to eat because it is truly a comfort food. Nothing dangerous. Very simple taste that calls for any occasion: breakfast, lunch, tapas, dinner or snack. Most of all, everyone in Spain eats it. I must stop before I start writing an ode to the stuff. So exited! I found a video on how to make it by scratch. Learn with me my readers:

I Pledge Allegiance to the Divided States of Spain

The past week I've been giving talks on the American High School. After being at a Spanish high school for about a month, I can say the differences are quite telling.

(Pre-World War II students do the Bellamy salute after the Pledge of Allegiance. I wonder why no one does the good-old Bellamy salute anymore...;-)

The mornings are especially different. No homerooms. Each classroom has its own tutors, which would be sort of their version of a homeroom teacher. This tutor, usually any teacher assigned a classroom, takes care of giving that classroom its announcements or handling administrative matters with the students. But these issues are usually handled quickly in between classes or at the beginning of the school day.

Now here's a big difference--a student will stay in one classroom for the whole school day (with breaks for lunch and recess). That means that its not the students who migrate every period from one classroom to the next--it's the teachers, to their often great dissatisfaction. When I tell them that in the States teachers usually have their own rooms, which they can decorate to their own liking, a sharp "really!" is followed by general words of regret bemoaning the state of things. This means that classrooms are comparatively more bare and less decorated than in the American classroom. This also means that its usually the teacher that is late. Understandibly, of course, knowing he has to carry paperwork, perhaps a CD player or other school materials

So the school is organized into different grades (from 1st to 4th) and these grades are then divided as well (A, B, C, D). So one period I'll have to find room 3D (third here students, D section), and the next period I'll go to 1C. There are no lockers, because the students keep everything in their desk. And although there's a bell, it usually does not ring.; teachers have to make sure they keep an eye on the clock during prep-periods. There's one advantage to this system--keeping students in class after the period is over is a punishment that works alot better.

Let's look a little closer still. The day begins, and unlike American schools there are no loudspeakers, which means no official announcments. Look around a Spanish high school. Something's missing--no Spanish flag. Students do not take any pledges in high school. The fact that American students have to rise and recite the Pledge of Allegiance every day is strange and ridiculous to most Spaniards. This points to something ingrained in the Spanish character: its divisiveness. One of my fellow cooperating teachers told me that a Spanish teacher who puts a pin of the Spanish flag on her clothes could get labeled a rightest conservative, or even a fascist. There are many flags in Spain, and unlike our state flags these symbols carry deeply-rooted, nationalistc meanings.

(Respectively, a flag of Catalunya and the flag of the Basques)

The name we give to the "official" language of Spain, Spanish, is a name not easily recognized by most Spaniards. The name might make them uncomfortable. They call it "Castellano," which situates it historically and geographically in the center of Spain, where the Kingdom of Castile spread the language many years ago. There are three home-grown languages in Spain other than Castellano, each with their own heavy nationalistic baggage: Euskara (the language spoken in the Basque country), Galego (spoken in Galicia) and Catalan (spoken in Catalunya). These are bona fide languages, mind you, not merely dialects. On top of this language stew, you have dialects of Castellano spoken throughout Spain. For instance, native Spaniards teaching at my school often joke about the difficulty in understanding the accent of speakers from Andalucia.

There's also some recent history that darkly shades the divisive nationalism. Under the 36 year regime (1939-1975) of dictator-general Francico Franco, languages like Catalan and Euskara were outlawed. All of Spain had to come under the rule of Spanish and the center of Spain which it represented. After the fall of the regime and the start of the democratic-republic, the repressed languages and nationalities came back to reassert themselves. Today, one of the hot-button political topics in Spain is the teaching of languages like Catalan, Galego and Euskara in public schools. They each soon became the official languages taught at the school in their respective regions. Many parents and politicians protest that their kids come out of public schools barely knowing Castellano.

So that leads us back the United States. During my talk on the American high school the teacher would interupt me to say, "See class. Do you see how Americans are so patriotic and how much they love their country. Don't find it odd that they salute the flag. They feel proud of their flag." She would do an aside and say, "But in here it means nothing." She would say this with such bitterness that it hits me, and I suddenly feel just how sensitive the issue of nationalism and patriotism is in Spain. There's also the mixture of pride and self-consciousness that comes with knowing that Americans and the United States have become the shining example of patriotism.

I do love my country. I think patriotism is an essencial, important value. But our patriotism was grown out of a very different history than that of Spain, forged as it is by the mottos like e pluribus unum and novus ordo seclorum. I still don't know of a country as strangely diverse as Spain, diverse in a way different from our so called melting pot. Even though it will give politicians, nationalist and even parents a world of headaches, Spain's divisiveness, which can be colorful and profoundly fruitful, is just one of the reasons I'm enchanted by this country.

Single Hot Out of the Oven--Some Flamenco Pop with Melendi's "Un Violinista en tu Tejado"

This song is really big right now in Spain. It'll give you an idea of how Flamenco pop sounds like. In this case, amazing. The icon on the top right corner of the screen indicates Spain's version of MTV (although they get MTV and VHI here as well). Here's a link to the homepage of the television station where you can stream all the latest hits and some old ones, too--http://www.los40.com/.

Without furthur ado, Melendi's "Un Violinista en tu Tejado" (a fiddler on your roof). The song is, by the way, the number one hit on Los 40's countdown.

The Blood of May

If you wander through the gallaries of the Prado museum in Madrid you're likely to encounter these two paintings in the same room by one of Spain's master artist--Francisco Goya.



(The Second of May 1808)

The painting depicts the beginning of Madrid's popular uprising against Napolean's forces, which was occupying Spain in 1808. The event begins the six-year long Spanish War of Independence. Under the pretense of conquering Portugal and dividing it up with the Spain crown, Napolean craftily moves his troops into Spain with hardly any resistance. When Napolean removed Charles IV and the royal family out of Spain and into France, that was the last straw for many Madridleños. Commoners took to the streets in protest against French rule. The professional army, with Mameluke mercenaries as depicted above, charged against the angry commoners and the people fought back with clubs, kitchen knives, stones and whatever else they could find.


Goya points to no central focal point. The painting's composition is chaotic. Any sense of balance spins out of control. It is thrown out of balance at its very center--by that attack of red paint which depicts the slain mameluke sliding off his white horse. There's an anominity, a facelessness in the violence. Even if Goya might be commemerating the bravery of the commoners, he no doubt understands the grimness and utter lack of heroic glamour in the event. This is far from Delecroix Liberty Leading the People.

(The Third of May 1808)
Hauntingly iconic, this painting is on the grand masterpieces you'll see at the Prado. This is the aftermath of the events of the second of May. Anyone known to participate in the uprising was captured and, in the early morning hours of the third, executed. The man in the center kneels down, with a brilliant light from a lantern making him almost glow. The light seems tranfiguring, like a halo on the white-clothed martyr. But this reading soon becomes disrupted. The light is being used by the soildiers to efficiently kill their victims better. The middle figure spreads his arms in a Christ-like pose. It is a gesture both of appeal and defience. It seems to scream out, "Behold, my humanity!" The firing squad seems mechanical. The repetition of the soldiers postures tells us that this appeal will not be answer. After this groups gone, another one will replace it. And, like the mechanical grinding of gears, perhaps the same pathetic scene will play itself out again (as it has ever since).

The brutality of war was hardly shown more honestly, more realistically, or more dehuminizing before Goya. Have a look at most paintings on the slaughter of the innocent by Herod's army. Following neo-classical traditions, the composition would be ordered, dignified in its indignation and balanced in its brutality. "Allthough it occured, the brutality you witness is in the annals of history and now is to be contemplated," they seemed to say. A sense of future justice, a sense that maybe the wrongs will be righted again, seemed to be the message of these dignified tributes to injustice.

(Peter Paul Ruebens' Massacre of the Innocents)

But Goya seems to parody, in the most serious way, just how dehuminzing and unglorious violence is. There's no sense of redemption. That light that shines on the middle of the figure does not burst from a cloud, nor does it shine forth from angels--it belongs to the soilders who are going to make the kill.

The Christ-like gesture is also quite historically ironic. Here are a group of working class people who fought for their liberty against a foreign ruler--an emperor. Similarly, the Parisians rose against the aristocracy and their king. It was, just like the Spanish, in the name of liberty. Now Napolean returns the favor to Spain on behalf of the new French Empire. Napolean could defend himself, saying he was deposing decadent Bourbon rulers and replacing it with the more modern, liberated and culturally superior French society. He does have a point. Yet I cannot help but be reminded of Karl Marx ingenious quote--"History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce."

The setting of the scene is the mountains of Pricipe Pio in central Madrid. Every day I go to work, my metro passes by this hill. This year is the bicentennial of the events of the second and third of May. All over Madrid, cultural events are being held in honor of these events. One of the products of this commeration is Jose Luis Garci's new film Sangre de May, which I saw. In brief, educational but overlong and poorly structured. Here's a trailer for the film.