Pyrenean Experience

Spanish Courses in Spain – are they really necessary?

Posted on 16 February 2011 by Georgina Howard

Spanish language courses in Spain – which one do you recommend? Where should we go? Where is the best place to study Spanish in Spain? I hear the question again and again and I am usually quite baffled by the insistence on a formal Spanish course in Spain and the intent search for a formal Spanish school. Surely a fun Spanish teacher in an adult education classroom in Solihull can teach just as well as a fun Spanish teacher in a classroom in San Sebastian? (And it is unlikely that there will be any other native Spanish students on either Spanish course – unless they are a bit dopey and got the wrong classroom by mistake!). Surely … I ask you all … and please correct me if i am wrong … isn’t it everything BUT the Spanish course that is of interest in Spain? The fiestas, the life in the plaza, the tapas, the wine … in short … the Spanish people themselves!

Summer fiestas in Santesteban

So rather than talking about Spanish courses in Spain, let us presume that the real question is how do we go about mixing and mingling with the Spanish people? Love affairs are great (but perhaps not everyone’s ‘cup of tea’ (how British!) and a brush with the law may be going to rather unnecessary lengths to put your Spanish verbs to the test … so let us look at more orthodox methods. A home stay with a Spanish family is a great start and, although one is never certain whether one will find things in common with one’s hosts, if you are lucky enough to hit it off this can be a great way to make new Spanish acquaintances and friends. Another way would be to join activities or interest groups aimed at the local population.

When Steve and Veronica stayed at the cottage this summer, they joined Iziar and Lorea’s cooking course in Santesteban. (Haizea and Lorea are sisters who run my very favourite restaurant Donamariako Benta which can be found just over the hill in Donamaria). Although the course was aimed at local house wives, and I am sure that Veronica already knows how to make a good Béchamel sauce, ( do look out for her recipes on La Recette du Jour), I know that their Spanish came on leaps and bounds with the other Spanish participants from the valley. What about looking up archaeological digs, furniture restoration courses, Reiki courses, yoga sessions, flower-arranging sessions, voluntary work, mountaineering clubs etc. advertised for local people in regional newspapers or on public library walls ( NOT THE TOURIST OFFICE)? Granted, you may need some help with the translation, (and in this case you could ask the tourist office to help), and you may need to take a deep breath (or the odd glass of tinto ) before you walk in the door for the first time … but the Spanish are usually friendly, welcoming people with a good sense of humour and a useful smattering of English for use in emergencies!

Surely it is worth a try, and you may enjoy yourself far more than on a Spanish language course in a sterile Spanish schoolroom with everyone but the Spanish!

Walking the hills of Ameztia with Spanish friends

From personal experience, my Spanish took a great step forward when I first came to Spain 13 years ago and joined Haciendo Huella, Alfonso Monge’s weekend rambling groups in Madrid. I was the only English person in the group!

So, unless you have friends or acquaintances in Spain who can introduce you to a Spanish community and Spanish friends, then I would think seriously about what you want from your Spanish language courses. Learn the basics on a Spanish course in the UK and then think laterally about all the Spanish language opportunities a couple of weeks in this wonderful country could provide.. and you may find that you are not looking for a traditional Spanish language course at all!

Carnivals of Ituren & Zubeita 2011

Posted on 9 February 2011 by Georgina Howard

Ituren, 31^st January 2011

After a mug of hot broth, (caldo), traditionally made from boiled pork and chickens feet, we climbed the steps to the attic rooms above the town hall and plunged into a frenzy of bells and ropes, of sheep’s skins and brightly-coloured swaddling ribbons. No, don’t be misled by the pretty pinks and baby blues, the lace petticoats and the empty bottles of Patxaran – carnival time in Ituren is NOT a frivolous affair.

10 litre bells pulled tight on the Joaldunak's back

The atmosphere is serious and the faces of the Joaldunak are tense and pale under their thick Basque eyebrows as they wait for a heavy boot to be wedged in the base of their spine. Thick ropes are heaved tightly around their girth as a pair of 10 litre copper bells are secured tightly to the small of their broad Basque backs. Years ago the Joaldunak would have lived and slept in their bells during the whole carnival period and, with the ropes so tightly knotted around their midriffs, chicken broth would have been the staple for days on end. ( I can only imagine that Patxaran - the local sloe and aniseed liqueur – would have found its way through parted lips as well.)

Today is the first day of the Ituren-Zubieta carnivals, the Monday after the last Sunday in January and it is Ituren’s day to host the carnivals and welcome the Joaldunak from Zubieta into our own village square.

Ituren. The Joaldunak follow in the footsteps of their ancestors 1000's of years ago.

This is by far the most important day in the year for our village and the opportunity to ‘wear the bells’ (the word ‘Joaldunak’ literally means ‘the bell-wearers’ in Basque) is a great honour and tremendous responsibility handed on from generation to generation since documents began. Pello ( a local historian) told me last week that there was even mention of a Joaldunak-like character in these parts during Roman times!)

During the rein of Franco, Basque traditions were outlawed completely, as was the Basque language. ( This was such the case that there is now a missing generation of Basques whose parents refused to teach them Euskera for fear of their children being detained in the streets). However, even during these difficult times, the Basque villagers from Ituren and Zubieta clung tenaciously to their carnival traditions, aided and abetted by the tortuous mountain roads that lead to our villages and the opaque winter mists that shroud our valley floors.

Around 2pm the Joaldunak from Ituren congregate in the plaza, and the leader of the troupe (the enigmatic, Lazaro,) starts off the procession with a call on his horn and a back flick of solid hips releasing a heavy clonk from the Joariak on his back. The rest of the troupe fall into step; a complicated rhythmic step where the total synchronisation of movement and sound between the troupe members is of vital importance as well as a source of immense individual and village pride. The men are so acutely concentrated on their movements that they enter into a meditative, trance–like state and their solemn faces contrast markedly with the wild celebrations and obscenities of the beasts and demons, monsters and witches that scatter in their wake.

The chained bear (hartza) and the Joaldunak

The Joaldunak, together with a chained bear (harza) with rams horns, said be symbolic of the devil, then make the rounds of the village, blessing the village with flicks of horse-hair whips and the ringing of their bells. In times past there may have been real wolves and bears to frighten away from their herds of sheep and cattle, as well as the more intangible forces of evil, disease and infertility. The rituals and dress of the Joaldunak seemed to have changed relatively little over the ages although I believe that there are more youths ‘wearing the bells’ today that ever before – not only because fewer families could afford these immense bells but also because of a growing interest from the youths of the village to continue the tradition. While the Joaldunak march around the village, the rest of the villagers from Ituren and Zubieta dress up as mozorroak; masked, unruly, anarchic figures and symbols of evil, taunting the Joaldunak who scatter them in their wake. In the past the locals would have traditionally dressed as witches, demons and monsters however their costumes today bare evident signs of modernisation, and the masked figure of an ugly diseased man with a stick years ago may now be a semi-naked Basque youth with a chainsaw. The donkey pulling the cart of animal excrement today could quite possibly be a tractor in disguise! (Much better for the animals I am sure.)

Here is a video of the Ituren carnivals in 1970 made by Basque writer and historian, Pio Baroja. And here is a more recent video of the Ituren carnivals.

I could go on about the symbolism and meaning behind these ancient carnivals and its visceral impact on everyone who plays a part, or runs for cover under the porticos of the village hall. It is a very moving, unnerving affair and for some strange reason as I come to understand my neighbours and friends behind the facades and share in their everyday lives, the carnival means more to me year by year. My lasting impression this year was the total contrast between the eternal solemnity of the Joaldunak and the crazed grimaces and cries of the mozorak. Are they from two separate worlds? Or are they just two different facets of the same one?

Posted in Basque Culture and Tradition, Basque Food, Life in the Basque Pyrenees | 2 Comments

Mermaids with Dangerous Combs! Lamiak con Peines Peligrosos

Posted on 27 January 2011 by Georgina Howard

The Lamiak, easily compared to Greco-Roman nymphs, are creatures of Basque mythology who figure greatly in local toponyms, and are often found represented in the coats of arms of the large farmhouses of the area. (Many of my guests, and a group of pensioners from Pamplona, will not forget the terrible faux pas I made in Spanish when attempting to describe a Lamia in a coat of arms on a house in Zubieta: the mirror in the left hand was O.K, it was the comb in the right hand that gave me problems!)

The lamia on a coat of arms on a house in Oriegi

According to legend, the Lamia is a mermaid-like creature with either bird-like feet or a fish’s tail who dwells in mountain springs and streams. Here, in the notoriously misty forest glens of the Basque Country, she can be found combing her long blond hair with a golden comb. Whether it is the golden comb or her golden tresses, I am not sure, but she is often attributed with the disappearance of some lonely shepherd of unmeasured ambition who wanders off into the forest in her pursuit and is consequently never seen again. (If only – for his sake – my Spanish faux-pas wasn’t a faux-pas at all!)

However, the Lamia often brought good luck to the local peasants and if a farmer left the Lamiak a present, he Continue reading →

Posted in Basque Culture and Tradition, Learning Spanish in Spain, Life in the Basque Pyrenees, The Basque Language | 2 Comments

Carnival Time Again – The Bustle of Life in Ameztia

Posted on 20 January 2011 by Georgina Howard

Petticoats, whips and bells - all part of the Joaldunak carnival dress.

I just popped in on Amatxi yesterday and she was bent double over the kitchen table taking in the waist on her grandson’s lace petticoats. Carnival time is coming .. by far the most exciting and loved moment of the year for our village of Ituren. There is a general buzz everywhere, groups of youths congregating in farm sheds and clinks and clonks going on late into the night. If you come across a motorised bracken stack speeding around the village square next week like some demented Dougal from the Magic Roundabout then Iñaki, Sagrario´s son, is usually somewhere inside it on a tractor!

However, I have been told that this year Iñaki and Juanito are preparing some bizarre carnival version of Herri Kirolak (Basque rural sports) which is in fact Maika’s domain (and SHE is always a force to be reckoned with at carnival time!).

p.s. My great friend, Maika, who deserves many blog posts in her own right farms much of the land around here in Ameztia and has made national fame as a Spanish cross-country running champion and as a Herri Kirolak Basque heroine (with particular reference to her way with an axe and her stamina on the ‘corn-cob’ relay races.!)

Tiny, muscles of steel and a mischevious grin, I have discovered her soft spot for cheddar cheese and apple pies! One of my greatest friends and partners in crime, Maika, you are in for a blog post pretty soon.

For a charming little picture of Maika see Simon Busch’s article on the Basques: Bells to Men.

Posted in Basque Culture and Tradition, Life in the Basque Pyrenees | 1 Comment

Gure Bazterrak

Posted on 19 January 2011 by Georgina Howard

I have just found a video on You Tube that Vic put up a couple of years back – so thanks Vic. It shows Edorta, a friend of ours and professional cantautor singing what has become over the years something of a signature tune for us all on our Spanish language & Walking holidays and basque Cultural holidays here in the Pyrenees. This song is a folksong by Mikel Laboa: Gure Bazterrak. Melancholic and soul-searching it speaks of the mysterious misty valleys of the Pyrenees. As the nooks and crannies and details of the landscape disappear from view beneath swirls of mist so we are forced to turn in upon ourselves and explore the landscapes within. For me the melodies in the song and its introspective tone epitimise the sentiment I think we all feel here in the mountains, living by the seasons and exposed to the elements. There is something quitesintially Basque about the song and no house-party week, however jolly, is the same without this beautiful song paying homage to the landscapes around us and bringing us slowly back down to earth.

As an introduction to Basque, here are the words

Gure Bazterrak

Maite ditut, maite gure bazterrak lanbroak

izkutatzen dizkidanean

zer izkutatzen duen

ez didanean ikusten uzten

orduan hasten bainaiz izkutukoa

nere baitan bizten diren

bazter miresgarriak ikusten.

Early morning mists in the Baztan Valley

Posted in Basque Culture and Tradition, Life in the Basque Pyrenees, mind and spirit, The Basque Language | Leave a comment

Tril-lingualism and the Maternity Ward.

Posted on 17 January 2011 by Georgina Howard

Marion at school in local peasant dress

A fascinating subject I have long wished to tackle in greater depth is that of Marion’s tri-lingualism. My daughter is 6-years-old and is tri-lingual in Basque, English and Spanish. Before the umbilical cord had been cut at the birthing table in a maternity ward in Pamplona in May 2004 her father had spoken to her in Basque, the nurses in Spanish and her mother had undoubtedly uttered the odd expletive in English. Since this day she has lived her life in the three languages. I have always spoken to her in English, her father (who moved out of the family home when she was just 6 months old) always speaks to her in Basque, as do our neighbours, local friends and the village school, and I have always communicated with the Basque people around me in Spanish. This means that whenever Marion is with me and our Basque-speaking friends our social life develops simultaneously in the 3 languages. Up to a couple of years ago this meant that Marion would hear Spanish around her constantly but reply, if possible, in either Basque or English.

However, at about 4 years old Marion started to became more socially aware and, since then, evidently wanting her mother to join in the conversion she has been far more likely to answer us all in the one-fits-all language of Spanish – ensuring that no-one escapes the net or misses out. This tendency towards the happy medium of Spanish is, so I gather from other friends in multi-lingual families, quite normal BUT it usually poses a threat to a child’s true bi or tri-lingual state.

Marion & Amatxi at her Basque-speaking home, the farm of Zubialdea

I believe that the survival of Marion’s English as a native language with native accent and intonation is ‘thanks’ to the fact that I have brought Marion up alone for the past 6 years and that our home (on top of a Basque mountain) with its Beatrix Potter books and Cbeebies, Marmite on toast and cups of Horlicks has always been an English oasis. All the other children I have met here who have English mothers (who talk to them in English) and Spanish fathers (who talk to them in Spanish), and where the home language is also in Spanish, appear to understand English perfectly but their spoken English seem stilted with a decidedly foreign lilt.*

Christmas in Solihull, 2008, Marion with cousins James and Ana

This surprises me as I was under the belief that if a child had heard native English all its life (and particularly from its mother) then its ear should be trained to hear the sounds of the English language perfectly and therefore replicate them without a problem. If anyone knows more about this subject then PLEASE do let me know.

At this point I would like to point out that until this year we knew NO other English families in the area and as Marion is brought up in a totally Basque/Spanish speaking environment her English is solely dependent on me (and Cbeebies) and the odd trip back to the UK. This has been the main reason why I have been so strict in enforcing English as the home language and have not put in Spanish television or play Spanish/Basque DVDs while she is here. I now have my worries as my Spanish-speaking partner comes to live with us as to how this will influence our fragile English-speaking microclimate.

(An aside here: the only time Marion has ever spoken English with a Basque/Spanish accent is when she has sung a song learned during her English lessons at school and her accent has tuned in to her teacher’s accent and that of her other Basque school friends – Mixel, her English teacher, and my dear friend will forgive me for saying this, I always pull his leg about it and he takes it so well!)

Anyway, I will leave this blog for now. It may at least serve as a background to further and more interesting blogs I have in mind which try to take a look at the extent of her tri-lingualism as well as offering a variety of anecdotes which aim to explore the relationship between language and thought, culture and identity. All comments really welcome!

Posted in Learning Spanish in Spain, Raising bi-lingual and tri-lingual children, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

5 Ways Not to Speak Spanish in Spain

Posted on 9 January 2011 by Georgina Howard

1. Make a bee line for Spanish resorts full of other British people. Here, you will often find impatient English-speaking shopkeepers and waiters who find nothing amusing in waiting half-an-hour for you to mumble your order in broken Spanish, when a two-minute conversation in English would suffice.

2. Head for the large metropolises full of busy people of all nationalities with little time to stop and chat. Over-zealous female Spanish students are in particular danger of being misunderstood; try convincing the taxi driver that you weren’t really after his telephone number and that all you were really interested in was practising your irregular verbs!

3. Bury your head in a phrase book. Nothing kills spontaneous, friendly interactions with the locals more than a ten-minute flurry of page-turning in a desperate attempt to find a phrase which almost certainly doesn’t exist (for such is the fame of phrase books). Smile, gesticulate, keep the conversation going in whatever way you can and then, once rapport is created, you can nail them for language practice!

4. Visit Spain with a friend who speaks much better Spanish than you do. It is far too easy to take a back seat and let them do all the talking. And, if you are finally encouraged to speak out alone, the thrill of buying a glass of wine on your own in a Spanish bodega looses its punch with your partner gazing scholarly over your shoulder.

5. Spend invaluable holiday time inside a language school with 20 other foreigners and one Spanish teacher. There is nothing less motivating than studying Spanish grammar inside a sterile classroom in Spain while the bustle of real Spain; sunshine and laughter, cerveza and tapas, pass by mutely on the other side of the window pane.

Posted in Learning Spanish in Spain | 2 Comments

Forget the Brits who don’t speak Spanish what about the Brits who don’t speak Brit?

Posted on 5 January 2011 by Georgina Howard

My beautiful friend from Manchester (with the equally mancunian name of Zosia) has lived in the city of San Sebastian for the past 25 years. As an English teacher she always complains about the X-pats in Donosti (the Basque name for this most beautiful sea-side city) who, after years married to Spaniards/Basques, and totally integrated into the Spanish/Basque way of life, slowly start to forget their English!

The village of Ituren - no X-Pat people for miles around.

You speak Spanish, no?

There are very few X Pats in the region ….. even in San Sebastian. And, an hour away, in the remote mountain villages of Ituren in Navarra where I live I go months without meeting another English-speaking foreigner of any description apart from my daughter (and I am not sure if she is classed as foreign or not).

I have tried to make you proud of me, Zosia, and struggled to maintain the intricate question tags at the ends of my sentences, the elaborate wouldn’t you’s and shouldn’t we’s, the pernickety didn’t you’s and don’t you’sthe haunt of all EFL students. But, alas Zosia, I fear that I will also let you down. After years of speaking Spanish day in and out my English is definitely starting to slip.

How easily that ubiquitous, slap-it-on-everywhere Spanish No? sneaks in at the end of my sentences. You are staying for lunch, no? Marion, you did do your homework, no? The cows have been milked, no?Apart from dropping my T’s (to be blamed on my Brummy upbring not my Spanish one) I am now dropping my I’s as well! My Christmas circular, before corrected, started off last year with “am sorry to be writing so late but have been accused of breaking and entering, robbery and kidnapping and….”.* The all incriminating I’s were simply not forthcoming. When you speak another language for the greater part of the day then I believe that you actually start to think differently too!

Thinking in Spanish

In Spanish there is often no need to say the subject of the action. ‘ I’,’ You’, ‘She’, ‘We’, ‘They’ as it is often implicit in the verb which, unlike English, changes with each person. From the verb alone it becomes obvious who is doing what. “I kidnapped my French lodger, then the police came” for example, is translated by “ secuestré a mi inquilino francés y después vino la policía .” You will notice that in this translation there is no need for the word ‘I’ in Spanish, that the phrase ‘French lodger’ is translated as lodger French and that ´the police came´ is turned back to front into ´came the police´.

Do the tomatoes come first?

Each language, although it may try to communicate a similar message, selects the information of the sentence in a different order. It is rather like shopping; do you go to the butchers before the bakers and the green grocers, or do you Continue reading →

Posted in Cultural Differences, Learning Spanish in Spain, Life in the Basque Pyrenees | Leave a comment

Spanish language course and Walking holidays – Green (and Blue) Exercise Boosts Mental Health

Posted on 2 August 2010 by Georgina Howard

In defence of the Spanish language and walking holidays we run in the Pyrenees I remember an article on how living near green spaces can be shown to improve mental health. Thanks Paul for routing it out for me! Add these findings to those of a previous article on my blog on how exercise is shown to aid mental agility and memory and it therefore makes sense that ’green exercise’ should reap the benefits of both the ‘green’ and the ’exercise’. Now this BBC article implies that adding a touch of ‘blue’ i.e. a river or a lake, and stress levels and depression drop even more. Here are just a few facts I have gleaned about the benefits of exercise on mind, body and spirit - I welcome more information if anyone has it.

Physical exercise is critical to mental agility and memory.
A rich social life can help improve mental sharpness.
Just 5 minutes exercise in a park can boost mental health.
Living near green spaces shows a positive effect on anxiety disorders and depression; also coronary heart disease and diabetes.
Children younger than 12 were less likely to suffer depression in the greener areas.
Regular running or aerobic exercise in the over 50´s can dramatically slow the ageing process; remarkably slowing down the rate of death from heart disease, heart attacks, cancer and neurological diseases.

For more facts on how green exercise can benefit mind, body and spirit have a look at the link below.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8654350.stm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/7554293.stm

John, Paul, Sonja and David after a dip in the river near Arizkun

Posted in Exercise and its benefits, mind and spirit, Walking in the Pyrenees | Leave a comment

Basque Rural Sports

Posted on 2 August 2010 by Georgina Howard

Another guest post from Veronica of La Recette du Jour.
Being in a country where you don’t speak the language well enough to understand everything that’s going on gets you into some odd situations where you can discover all sorts of interesting things you would never have guessed the existence of otherwise. Yesterday was one of those days. ”Dia de la sidra” in Leitza, said the Navarran tourist authority website. “Cider tastings.” Sounds good, and we haven’t visited Leitza yet. So we get in the car and set off, arriving at about 11 a.m. Absolutely no sign of any cider festival. As usual walls and shop windows were plastered with fly-posters, 100% of which were in Basque. But by using the few words of Basque we do recognise and looking at the pictures, we soon determined that none of them were anything to do with cider.

Steve asked in a haberdasher’s shop; the two women inside shrugged their shoulders. Try the square where the town hall is, they suggested. So we did. Still no cider festival; we studied a few more posters without success, as usual taking photos of some of them so that we could decipher them with the help of the Basque-French dictionary later. On the way back down the hill we asked in a newsagent. “Oh yes, el dia de la sidra. It’s this afternoon. At seven o’clock.” Hmm. To us, “dia” had implied “all day”. And to the Spanish, “afternoon” starts at about four and goes on till nine. Leitza didn’t look so interesting that we wanted to hang about till seven in the hope that a couple of stalls selling cider might appear. “Let’s go the butcher’s shop near where we parked the car,” I suggested. “I want to buy some chicken for dinner.”

The window of the butcher’s had a poster in it (in Basque) which seemed to be an advert for a museum of stone-cutting. Inside, the walls were plastered with photos and newspaper cuttings showing large sweaty men heaving improbably large blocks of stone onto their shoulders. Ahh, harrijasotzaile (Basque stone lifters)! “My dad,” said the butcher proudly. “And my brother.” “What about you?” asked Steve, eyeing his slim, thirty-something frame doubtfully. “I like partying too much,” he grinned. “It’s our family museum – it’s open till two-thirty if you want to see it.” Well, we didn’t have anything better to do, so we drove out of town and followed a large pointing finger sculpted in concrete up a steep track.

We arrived at a farmhouse overlooking a field. In the field were a giant Basque beret, a few stone circles, dolmens, and menhirs, standing stones with letters painted on them, an 8-metre tall statue of a man with a spherical stone on his shoulder, painted in brilliant silver, and an even more massive silver arm and shoulder emerging from the earth. The usual ponies and sheep appeared unconcerned by this, grazing calmly around the giant legs of the statues, and scratching their backs on the menhirs.

There was a bus parked outside the farmhouse, and when we went inside about 40 people were milling round a table drinking cider and eating pintxos. TV screens on the walls were looping images of the butcher’s dad heaving stones onto his shoulder. Continue reading →

Posted in Basque Culture and Tradition, Life in the Basque Pyrenees, Special Places to visit in the Spanish Pyrenees | 1 Comment