A Foot in Two Campos

 A day for quiet contemplation.   A day for walking in the campo, reflecting on wonderful memories of my special mother on the day that would have been her 82^nd birthday.  The first one without her ….. the first of many such firsts, sadly.  Reflecting too on 2012 as it slowly disappears over the horizon.  A year of sorrow, loss, endings and beginnings.

A year when old friends have been hugely important.  I have cried on their shoulders, they have phoned just when I needed it, they have been there with coffee, cake, tissues and support.  New friends, even some as yet unmet, have also offered real kindnesses.

My walk today offers wide vistas, huge horizons, paths leading into the unknown, safe paths and rocky paths.  All the choices of which way to go are mine alone to make.   A horse gazes implacably back at me on the hillside below.  He is tethered, his choices limited.  Above, a hawk dives in and out of the clouds, turning as he wishes, his choices unlimited.  Between them I walk in the sunshine and the shade, picking my own route, my choices limited only by me, my caution, my indecision.

My chosen path disappears over the horizon.  Time to turn back?  Or to take a step onward, into the unknown?   Only a moment’s hesitation ……..

Onward.

© Tamara Essex 2012

 It occurred to me today that this whole “living in another country” lark, whether for full-timers or part-timers, would be massively harder without my trusty laptop and the dear old internet. 

I use the internet to support and enhance my move to Spain in dozens of ways, many that I wouldn’t even notice (I put the description of how to re-start the water heater into a blog post so I’d always be able to find the instructions!).  I think the main ones are these:

1.   Research.  Finding out the basics like how to get an NIE number and a bank account, how to transfer money, and how much properties cost this month, would have been infinitely more complicated (and slower) without the internet. 

2.   Finance.  Now of course we have internet banking, enabling us to make payments that fall due in England or Spain on the right date, from the right bank account.

3.   Language.  I’m sure many of us have used the internet for at least part of our Spanish language, whether it’s those little exercises on the BBC language website, or just searching for free or low-cost classes in our new home area.  And then there’s the translation sites – invaluable for checking exactly what the letter from Endesa is saying.

4.   ExPat Forums.  These are invaluable for the preliminary research, and for ongoing queries about paperwork or other practicalities.  However there’s a warning – some of them are rather full of people determined to have the last word!  I’m fairly regular on Eye on Spain, but would be interested to hear about any other forums that people have found useful.

5.   Facebook.  So much more than just a network of friends!  Once I worked out to start searching for Groups and Pages relevant to Spain, Andalucía, and the Axarquía región, I discovered all sorts of places to go, blogs to read, récipes to cook, walks to go on, and even people to meet.

6.  Keeping in Touch.  But most importantly, the computer and the internet keep me in contact with people who are nearby and those who are far away.  Facebook again is invaluable.  Those little updates, however trivial, enable me to picture a friend in their garden, their shop, their kitchen, their art studio, at work or at a business breakfast, out with the dogs or visiting the hospital.  We share information about the weather and our day, and we play Words With Friends.  Even a silly wordgame with a long-lost friend in Australia keeps her in my thoughts.  Daily contact with people who are important to me, just through a glance at Facebook in the morning with a mug of tea in bed -  priceless.  Emails, so much easier (and faster) than letters.  Photos arriving instantly following a big event.  It keeps me in the loop, makes me feel less of a deserter.  So on my visits back to England, we can pick up straight away, as though I’ve never been away.

I almost wonder just how possible it all would have been before the internet.  Well of course it WAS possible, as millions of people did it!  But now we have much greater expectations of connectivity.  Working the net has enabled me to not only keep my existing networks alive, but develop new ones. 

Thanks to the internet I have joined a choir in Spain (and collected the music via DropBox) and have got a wonderful recipe for “patatas pobres” to fill the freezer (see yummy picture).

Slowly I am building new networks.  Not instead of old networks though, but as well as those.  I’m casting my net further afield, and enjoying what I’m catching.

© Tamara Essex 2012

 It feels as though I’ve been here all summer, but in July there were only five nights in my home following the signing at the notario, then just ten nights in August, and a couple of weeks in September.  And on those previous visits, I’d managed to miss Market Day.  This was primarily for two reasons.   One – I didn’t know what day it was on, and two – I didn’t know where it was held.  Wandering round one pleasant Thursday morning, I spotted the giveaway sign of a stall with an unfeasible number of Spanish dresses wafting in the breeze, half desperately plain in brown or black, the other half impossibly brightly patterned in an unpleasantly clingy fabric.

The street with the market is like Dr Who’s TARDIS.  It’s only a short walk up the parallel street, but then returning down this one between the stalls, it goes on forever, at least four times as long as the next street.  All sorts of shops are open – or are they just people’s garages?  Shops I’d never seen before, really useful shops to which I want to return but I’m afraid they may only exist on a Thursday, morphing back into a quiet residential street for the rest of the week.

A number of purchases are made.  A bigger bucket for the brick-making, secateurs for the plants, a Spanish flag for the back of the car, an excellent melon, two ripe avocados and a walking stick in case of wandering guard-dogs on my walks in the campo.  Nothing over a few euros.  Decided against the dresses.

© Tamara Essex 2012

Carnival!  Fiesta!  Masks!  Music!  Fire!  Is there a people of any nation that does not celebrate this way?

Málaga carnival - fancy dress, street music, processions, singing, dancing.  Notting Hill Carnival - the menu of activities is the same.

From 1937 to 1977 Malagueños had put their costumes away during Franco’s prohibition on such gatherings, and the revival at the end of the 1970s celebrated the the new freedoms of a nation emerging into democracy.  An element of political satire is present to criticise and poke fun at the nation’s or town’s rulers (just as the caganer, or defecating shepherd, carefully placed in each Nativity scene in Catalunya, often has the face of a currently unpopular politician).   There’s a parallel In the Caribbean carnivals, which originally arose in the early 19^th century to celebrate the abolition of slavery and the freedom to celebrate their own culture.  The white masks and the costumes which survive to this day were a parody of their former European masters. 

Competition plays an important role alongside the pure pleasure of partying.  Across Spain the murgas (street bands) and comparsas (procession groups) compete for prizes.  In Málaga the prestigious final in the Cervantes Theatre is a sought-after ticket.  In England’s West Country, carnival clubs begin their preparations a full year ahead, building huge floats with thousands of lightbulbs, the young people rehearsing their routines weekly building up to the great carnival circuits in September, where the prizes are eagerly fought for.

This weekend in Shaftesbury the carnival came to town.  The larger clubs are part of the Wessex Circuit, so travel around the region parading through each town on consecutive Saturday nights.  In between the huge floats towed by massive tractors and towing generators for the 20,000 lightbulbs and blaring music, are youth bands, twirlers’ groups, costumed masqueraders and individual fancy dress entrants.

A century and a half ago carnival would have been lit by bonfires and hand-held flaming torches.  Perhaps with growing awareness of environmental damage, this may be the future of carnival too?  This final picture is the end of the carnival disappearing past my house under a full moon – the moon almost drowned out by the lightbulbs on the float.

© Tamara Essex 2012