Amatxi in the vegetable garden of Zubialdea in Ameztia

Work is a very interesting concept in the Basque culture and a far cry from the ‘mañana’ approach to work that we often attribute to the Spanish of the south. Here in the mountain Basque culture the greatest honour bestowed upon a person is that they are a good worker; neither their education, their breeding, their position nor money can elevate a person to a higher status than their simple capacity to work.

Amatxi was simply wishing me the most desirable thing she could think of; a full working day!

For good or for bad, work for a rural Basque person is not only their source of pride but their whole identity. Luis, my 50 year old neighbour, has been recently pensioned off early due to kidney problems. This episode in his life has been traumatic for him; and I am not referring to the ongoing dialysis sessions in Pamplona hospital where the constant attention of pretty nurses has worked wonders for this shy, confirmed bachelor). Luis has all the money he needs after spending his youth as a lumberjack in the French Alps, he is relatively healthy (apart from the dialysis) and spends his days sun kissed and svelte walking the hills in Ameztia with his dogs. He is never lonely, living with his brother and saintly sister-in-law, (Sagrario), but he is no longer part of the Ituren work force.

Ignacio, Sagrario, Me and Luis at Sumbillanea in Ameztia

The high regard for work can also be seen in the community work organised by the village called ‘Auzolan’. (In Basque Auzo means neighbourhood and lan means work). Auzolan is a Basque concept and consists of community service for the village in which every household is expected to participate several times a year as a way of paying our village taxes. Working groups of neighbours are organised to mend roads, unblock drains, paint the public buildings, clear rubbish etc. followed by a hearty and well-earned almuerzo with wine from the bota, bread, chistorra, chorizo and dry slabs of sharp, homemade, sheep’s cheese.

Nevertheless, the Basque concept of work has never been clearer than when I had a new extension put onto my cottage. Four ensuite bedrooms have just been added to a house which was once so small that even the bathroom was outdoors! Ignacio, (Luis’s cousin) famed for his efficiency and trojan work effort – and understandably the most sought after builder in the valley – came to do the work.

Well before dawn one morning last December there was a low whirr of machinery and a flicker of lights and a UFO landed in the field below my house. For 3 months the place was overrun by a team of squat, mute men in blue trousers with jet black hair and long pale faces. They worked in virtual silence with only the necessary grunts to direct a crane or locate a drill. It was well into the night before the lights were dimmed and the velvety silence of winter mountains once more reigned supreme.

I had made attempts at communication when they first arrived but those that were unable to divert their gaze would stare back at me incredulously with a look that told me that I was in the way of another shovel of cement or brick on the wall.

As if to the beat of a drum, everyone worked in total synchrony, (whether Ignacio was there or not) and the new building was ready for the roof within 17 days of that first UFO sighting. It was now January and the wild weather that heralds the arrival of the Ituren carnivals had descended upon the mountains. On one such evening I arrived home in snow blizzards, bitter driving winds and sub-zero temperatures to find the lights on and the UFO machinery whirring away as usual. Through the frenzied flurries of snow I managed to make out four shadowy figures bent double on the roof; pale midriffs exposed to the elements, undeterred in the laying of 80m² of tiles. Oblivious to the conditions and without a word of complaint they did not stop until the whole roof was laid.

I have never seen such dogged and unrelenting patience anywhere else in Europe and I understand why the Basques’ capacity for work and their silent resistance in the face of adversity have taken them all over the world. Many Basque farmers spent their youths as lumberjacks in the Alps or in America where their ability to accept long periods of solitude and isolation made them highly sought after ranchers and shepherds in the states of Wyoming, Arizona and California.

Last week, the very last sounds to be heard were the sounds of Ignacio, the boss himself, hammering in the last posts of an outdoor staircase in the driving rain; working silently side by side with his men, indistinguishable in the same blue trousers, with the same long pale face. His reputation and the immense respect he has among the villagers of Ituren are due to neither his power, position nor money (and he is most probably one of the wealthiest men in the village (although you can never quite tell with the Basques!)). Ignacio has gained admiration but he is as hard a grafter as each and every one of his men. He is the first on site in the morning; driving the trucks and lifting the timber. For here, in the cement mix of hard work, silent resistance and dogged perseverance the values of equality and collaboration are equally important.

Last week the UFO was spirited away, as suddenly as it arrived, and the mountains ring again with the sound of sheep’s bells, spring lambs and birdsong. Apart from the existence of a whole new wing to the house and a couple of terrified cats you may be tempted to believe that my UFO story never existed!

Oh .. and the appearance of the odd empty beer can which may just testify that these extraterrestrials shared at least some humanoid characteristics!

Cider drinking at the mushroom fiestas in Elgorriaga

For some reason cider has become the theme of the week … and not a drop has yet passed my lips . .. I swear!

My partner, the village lawyer, always seems to get interesting cases when it is cider house season (usually between January and April) although I have to admit, the  ’wild-boar-in-the-boot-of-the-car’ case during last year’s hunting season also had its appeal.

From what I can gather the local cider seems to reach deep into the Basques lumber-jacking genes (many of them having spent their youths as log cutters in the high Pyrenees or the French alps) and more than one Sagardotegia (cider house) has woken up on a Sunday morning to find itself with a couple of trees less than it had had the night before. Near Elizondo, a couple of evidently  ’new-age’ Basques, also bestowed their affections on the local flora; but this time just the shrubs and flower pots outside the door. I will ask tonight what the arguments were in their defense.

The Basques have an age-old tradition of making cider, and cider was the traditional beverage way before wine was every introduced.  In days gone by almost every farmstead would have made cider for its own use and even now, if it is possible to lure my farming neighbours away from the toil of the farm for an evening on the tiles, (where does that expression come from?), then the local cider house would still be very much their first choice. Today, the Sagardotegiak are a slightly more elaborate affair offering an accompanying menu of cod tortilla, piperada, T-one steaks and sheep’s cheese etc. the details of which, together with the interesting history of the Cider Houses in general, is better described eloquently by my colleague, Phil Cooper, writer of the Sunflower Guide to the Basque Country.

 http://www.sunflowerbooks.co.uk/2013/cider-houses-of-the-basque-country/

I leave you all with a happy picture of Stuart, a guest of mine from last year on our Walking, Basque Culture & Gastronomy week enjoying the cider at the mushroom fiestas in the village of Elgorriaga down the road. (In his case I believe the trees (at least) were left standing!).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=sAz_UvnUeuU

My Basque/Spanish daughter, Marion, learning English with my mother at Christmas

I am always amazed at the number of Spanish language schools in Spain that boast about their highly sophisticated language labs full of the latest technology! Surely, (I have always thought) it is far better to learn languages with real people? Surely, the elderly señora with time to talk on the plaza, or a friendly shepherd bringing the sheep down from the hills are far more efficient teachers of the Spanish language than an audio tape in a sound-proofed room? So, when Francois Grosjean, Emeritus professor of psycholingusitics at Neuchâtel University drew my attention to the following experiment, it was refreshing to know that what seemed pure common sense … does still make sense! (Which is not always the case these days.)

Patricia Kuhl* and her colleagues at Washington University conducted an experiment on infants. They asked themselves whether any type of exposure to two languages (through human interaction, DVDs, audio input, etc.) is enough to encourage infants to develop the phonetic categories of each languages.  They exposed 9 month old American infants to twelve sessions with Chinese native-speakers who read and played with them in Mandarin. With a second group of similar infants they gave them the same amount of Mandarin language exposure but only through DVDs and audio input, specifically avoiding any live human exposure.  

Interpersonal skills play an essential role in the learning of a second language

The results were clear. Whereas the infants exposed to live human exposure acquired the Mandarin phonetic contrast, the second group (which learned through audio, and audio visual mediums) did not. Kuhl hence concluded that the presence of a live person interacting with an infant and engaging them in an interpersonal and social context were essential in motivating the infant to learn a second language.  Naturally, I ask, as adults, do we really learn that differently

So, next time you find yourself learning Spanish in a language lab at a Spanish language school in Spain  … get up and go for a walk, find a lively bar, join an aerobics class or knitting group or a local AA session, or simply chat up the lab assistant, but take those headphones off!

*Kuhl, P K., Tsao, F.-M. & Liu, H.-M. (2003). Foreign-language experience in infancy: Effects of short-term exposure and social interaction on phonetic learning. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, 100 (15), 9096-9101

Open University students learning Spanish this summer

Open University Spanish language students enjoy our Spanish language house-parties in the Pyrenees in Spain, and have done for over a decade; braving the 10 hairpin bends to our Pyrenean farmhouse to join us for a chat! Our total immersion Spanish language holidays have always offered an ideal summer complement to years of distance learning where Spanish tuition is based primarily in reading, writing and comprehension skills! It appears that many Open University Spanish students (and adult learners of Spanish in general) miss a genuine opportunity for a chin wag; to chat, to converse, to interact, to discuss, charlar, conversar, interaccionar, exponer, departir – basically  – HABLAR en español!

This may seem a long way to come just to  ‘chat’! However, unless you have Spanish-speaking friends or relatives, or live abroad, unstilted conversation practice with native Spanish speakers is not always easy to come by. And, even when travelling abroad, there are many places (especially in the south of Spain) where the Spanish would rather hone their English skills than wait for foreigners to stumble through their irregular verbs and muddle their ’paras’ and ‘pors’. It would not be the first time that British guests from the south of Spain have ventured up to our Spanish house-parties in the Pyrenees merely to find native Spanish people happy to ‘speak’ to them in Spanish!

Spanish summer school

Spanish conversation classes are difficult at the best of times, not only on Open University Spanish courses but in traditional classroom-based evening schools as well. Conversation classes require small groups, preferably with the presence of fluent (native?) Spanish speakers, but also a genuine reason to interact! Teachers … or (let us say) … language facilitators, have to be imaginative, inspiring, resourceful and genuinely emphatic which is not always easy within the confines of a sterile, formica classroom.  They need the ability to both whip up an atmosphere and debate among the group, while simultaneously supporting each member with their personal language needs. Fill-in-the-gap exercises are so much easier to hand out!

Spanish summer courses .. perfect for Open University Students

Lozanov, Vygotsky, Krashen, and Goleman

Lozanov, Vygotsky, Krashen, and Goleman as well as other theories on second language acquisition have all inspired the total immersion Spanish language house-parties that we run from our farmhouse in the Pyrenees (now in their 15th year). Our intensive Spanish teaching methods and the personal nature of these courses dictate small groups of no more than 8 guests at one time. We invite them to join in our Spanish lives in the village of Ituren and meet our local Spanish friends: farmers, shepherds, millers, smugglers, musicians, cooks, lawyers and teachers. All of our courses are hosted by a professional language facilitator with over 20 years’ experience of working with intercultural groups and … just as importantly … a passion and interest in people! The walks, cultural visits, fiestas, meals, talks, guitar recitals, cooking classes etc. all provide a fun, lively and dynamic platform for endless and uncontrived Spanish conversation between the local Spanish people and our guests.

What sort of vocabulary drills can you do underneath a chestnut tree? (sacar las castañas del fuego, darse un castañazo, castañear, las castañuelas etc.) and what idiomatic expressions can you practise in the bar? (soltar la gallina, pagar a escote, estar como una cuba, cambiar el agua al canario etc.)

By linking new Spanish vocabulary and grammatical constructions  to emotional, visual, aural and kinaesthetic experiences we cement them in our memory far more effectively. In this way our total immersion Spanish language holidays offer a refreshing, summery but also efficient boost in language skills for those following distance-based language courses (such as those run by the Open University) during the winter months.

More blogs on the theory and methods used in our exclusive total immersion Spanish courses can be found here:

http://www.pyreneanexperience.com/what-lozanov-has-to-do-with-our-spanish-house-parties-and-in-defence-of-the-comment-mummy-your-job-is-just-like-having-a-party/

http://www.pyreneanexperience.com/green-and-blue-exercise-boosts-mental-health/

Edorta sings us songs in Basque, English, Spanish and Catalan

Once again thank you to Francois Grosjean, Ph.d. Emeritus professor of Psycholinguistics at Neuchâtel University, Switzerland, for his latest blog on bilingualism and personality change. Without falling into boggy ground over the definition of personality (something so difficult to define and yet something we are so acutely aware of ) the question ‘do our personalities change when we change languages?’ is fun to ponder. It even appears that bilinguals themselves are totally divided as to whether they think their personalities change with the languages they speak.  As always, my favourite guinea pig is my tri-lingual daughter Marion (See blog: Trilingualism and the Maternity Ward): Is she actually a politer person in English not only because English has more PLEASES and THANK YOUS than the Basque but also because her only models of English here in the Pyrenees are the dulcet tones of a genteel mother (ONLY to make a point!) and the mild censored expressions on cbeebees (the BBC children’s channel)? And why does she tend to choose Spanish as the language of drama and mimickery? Is it because at her Basque school, Spanish is the language of the playground, the language of make-believe role plays, rhyming songs and skipping games with her friends?

And is it my imagination that she seems to be more direct and prosaic in Basque? Does this have anything to do with the very rural and traditional Basque life she lives here with her Basque relatives on their farms?

Does she change personality or is this only my perception of her? Or is it simply that just like all monolinguals she adapts her language to the various social situations she is exposed to? Most of us speak in different ways at work, at home, or with our mates down the pub and this creates subtle changes in our vocabulary and mind set.  Such expressions as “would you mind moving” v “budge over mate” are triggered by their own particular set of social and linguistic queues. Likewise every language comes within its own particular social, linguistic and emotional context.

Is it a surprise that the study that François mentions shows that people with apparently higher levels of emotional intelligence tend to be more in favour of the idea that personality changes with language? Perhaps this is because on the whole they are more sensitive to the changes in their environments (whether they require a total change of language or not).

But no language stands alone and it also comes with its own body language too. In Sweden I found that there was a distinct avoidance of eye-contact on public transport, less meaningless smiles and less superficial social interaction.  In contrast, when I lived in Modena, the Italian trains bustled with laughter, noise and gesticulation. Years ago I remember watching a documentary that counted the number of smiles made by a Danish and Italian TV reporter in similar situations. The results were of no surprise to anyone.

So, is it possible that languages typically accompanied by more smiles, visual contact and gesticulation (i.e. Italian or Spanish rather than Swedish or Finnish) can actually make you ‘feel’ brighter? Don’t NLP studies suggest that the way you carry your body can affect the way you ‘feel’ .. perhaps even the way you ‘think’? And then again would this constitute a personality change or just a change in mood?

Could traumatic experiences living in Italy taint the whole language with notes of depression? Or a passionate love affair with a Swede imbue the language with positive feelings (and slightly more expressive body language too!) How did it feel for the Basques to be forced to speak Spanish for fear of punishment during Franco’s regime? And of course, does all this actually change the speaker’s personality when he speaks another language or  merely his mood? Do these changes simply reflect his level of emotional intelligence and sensitivity to his surroundings? I am still looking for the answers. For those who are interested in reading in more depth here is Francois Grosjean’s post in Psychology Today.

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/life-bilingual/201212/change-language-change-personality-part-ii

Koikili on his horse ranch in Lesaka

Koilkil, our retired smuggling friend, continues to surprise us with his tales of smuggling cows and horses over the Spanish/French borders of the Basque Pyrenees. He rarely speaks with animosity about the Guardia Civil during Franco’s regime … sometimes I even note a tone of sympathy! The youths sent up to patrol the borders were usually from the south of Spain, dragged into conflict, miles away from home and absolutely ’shit-scared’ (excuse the expression but it is totally relevant to this blog post). Petrified about ending up stranded in these dense, dark and misty Basque valleys, the Guardia’s were little match for the local smugglers whose knowledge of the mountains and local weather patterns is virtually part of their genetic inheritance.  So the Guardias would often huddle around the main intersections, drawing heavily on cigarettes, sharing their food (cheese, chorizo, bread, tomatoes etc.) where the sound of them talking and the light and smell of their cigarettes were an easy giveaway to the silent smuggler.

If by chance a smuggler did get spotted, the Guardia would usually aim above his head whereby the smuggler would often drop his load (or scatter his animals) and take off into the night. If he was lucky the packages would contain something useful that the Guardia could either use himself or sell on (such as coffee, chocolate, radio’s etc.). If not, he could find himself running around the woods rounding up a smelly herd of calves or horses which his unit would then send to auction. However, the smugglers so often had the advantage. Their mountain farms allowed them a supply of cheeses, chistoras and cuts of meat, inaccessible to ravenous Guardias dependent on irregular army rations, and hence a safe passage through the mountains was an easy bribe.  And, even if a smuggler did loose his calves or horses to the Guardias (which represented months, years of wages) these were not too difficult to retrieve at the auction the following day.  All the locals knew exactly who the livestock in the auction  really belonged to and, in an act of solidarity, (which is so quintessentially Basque) no one else apart from the smuggler would turn up! Being the only bidder at the auction he would retrieve his livestock for a fraction of the cost … and the following night he would undoubtedly head back over the mountains with them again! 

And so what about the tomatoes… I hear you ask? Well, coming from the south of Spain the Guardias tended to eat far more tomatoes than the Basques … so next time you find a wild tomato plant growing conspicuously at some desolate place in the mountains you might now know why! Another dead give-away for the smugglers.

P.S. A question for another blog. How did the smugglers stop the stallions making a sound and nickering at the mares as they passed them over the borders at night?

Views from the school run to Ituren

The best way to start off this invitation is with a picture of Ituren on the school run down the mountain earlier this week .. and if this photo came with a sound track, you would also hear the haunting cries of the cranes as they cross the valley fleeing the winter from the north.  True to Amatxi’s prognosis we are now experiencing an Indian summer or ”quince summer” (el veranillo de San Miguel o el veranillo del membrillo). With the warm golden sunshine and the walnuts ripening on out-stretched sheets in the farms this is by far the most beautiful time to see the area.

Invitation: 17th November 2012

Those who are up for the adventure are welcome to join me for a light lunch of cheese and wine etc. at my home in Ameztia, Ituren this Saturday between 13.00 – 14.30.  Afterwards I invite you all to join me on a pretty walk along the shepherding paths and smugglers tracks that lead from the house so that we can enjoy the stunning autumn colours! The perfect tonic before winter sets in.

Here are the directions: Good luck!

Take the N121a from Behobia, direction Iruña/Pamplona and turn off at Donestebe (Santesteban). Cross the village and take the direction to Leiza, passing the village of Elgorriaga and then Ituren.  As you enter the village of ITUREN (from N121A and Santesteban) you will pass the Farmacia on your right, then an Asador on your left. Soon afterwards you will find a square on your left and a road that goes off to the left alongside the square (direction LATSAGA). Take this turning. This road crosses over a bridge and continues past some small, modern houses on the left and at the end of the road some older houses (the first with a large balcony over-looking the road). Here, do NOT enter the area of the older houses but follow the road as it takes a very sharp and steep fork to the left. Follow this road about 3 km uphill through the countryside until you get to a set of blue rubbish containers.                               

At the rubbish containers the road forks; it goes either straight ahead (putting the first house on your left-hand side) or forks steeply left up-hill (putting the first house to your right). At the rubbish containers go straight ahead, putting the first house on your left hand side and continue gently up hill. You will soon pass fields on both sides and drive through the middle of a farm, the farmhouse to your right. (If you see anyone at the farm say hello and ask then for directions to my house). If not, continue up-hill until you come to a cemented crossroads. (More in the shape of an X than a  +). Continue straight ahead/leftish along the flat along a row of walnut trees and you will soon see a wide turning to your left. Do NOT take it).  

Continue straight ahead on the road that gently bares right (putting a largish barn (which looks like the face of a Koala Bear) to the left of you). The road climbs and then dips and passes through some chestnut trees with a long barn above a field to your right. When you come out of the trees you will see a sign saying IAULIN BORDA and a gravel drive dipping sharply away to your left. Take it. The house you see to your left is ours! You have earned the first drink simply by getting here!

P.S: (Bring walking boots and warm clothes and a bottle of water)

Cheers!

Lazaro, the Joaldunak leader, prepares to perform ‘on the wrong day’!

It is the day that only the villagers know about, (and me) and last year I got it terribly wrong!

This is the private day of the Joaldunak – the mythical, pagan, carnival personality of our village of Ituren. This is the day they make their personal pilgrimage to our mountain farms in honour of their ancestors.  But today there are no coaches, no television cameras, no tourists just my neighbours hurriedly preparing mushroom tortillas, and pintxos of spicy sausage and sheep’s’ cheese.  Bottles of cider are uncorked as the Joaldunak approach, and the deep dirge of the bells reaches a crescendo in the oak trees at the bottom of the track.

Sheep’s skins, lace petticoats, whips and bells.

As an English woman living here among the Joaldunak it is a great honour to be part of this event. For the handful of special guests who join me for this Walking and Basque Pagan culture week (in which this event is pivotal) few have not been visibly viscerally moved.

SO: when guests from all around the world had booked their flights to join me for this ceremony, you can imagine that the most I can do is get the date right!  You can imagine the horror when Juanito explained that (due to a misleading calculation in the lunar cycle), the dates had been changed! How the hell do you face your clients after that????

Sagrario with her husband, Ignacio, and his brother, Luis. Without doubt, the last time they wear the bells

What happened next is without doubt, the greatest honour ever bestowed on me during the 10 years that I have lived here. When the Joaldunak leaders learned that I had  ‘metido la pata’ as they say in Spanish, the troop of Joaldunak rallied around me. (Lazaro rushed back from San Sebastian), Juanito, Javier, Pello, José Ramon, Juanjo all donned their bells and sheep’s skins. Sagrario put on a huge comida popular at her home,  roasting the lamb on the spit outside the farmhouse, while her husband, Ignacio and brother-in-law, Luis, put on the bells for the first  (and last) time in 25 years. Visual tears of pride as the bells were strapped to their broad 50-year-old backs. Musicians came up from the village and over 40 people came together that day to stage an enormous ceremony just so that I (La Inglesa) would not loose face in front of my clients.

As this wonderful fiesta drew to a close, the last words of the Bertsolaris (Basque bards) over their sloeberry liqueurs were GEORGINA; DON’T FORGET THAT NEXT YEAR (2012) El DIA DEL JOALDUNAK IS THE 22^nd SEPTEMBER!

There are still a few rooms left on this walking holiday 16^th – 23^rd  September and the experiences of the Basque culture this week will be absolutely unique for anyone who comes.

More information about this week: http://www.pyreneanexperience.com/walking-holidays-basque-culture/

Some more wonderful memories of Edorta as he sings ‘Razón de vivir’ to another Spanish group on the terrace of our home last autumn. No international house-party here in Ituren would be the same without him. Eskerrik asko Edorta!