History evenings

I went to a little bilingual talk last night about the history of the nearby village of La Romana. It wasn't at all bad. The local expert, Francesc Gallardo, did his stuff and answered, knowledgeably, the questions he was asked. He was ably assisted by a woman, Anabel, who handled the translation. She was the same woman who did the talk back in December.

I had no real trouble understanding nearly all of the Spanish part of the talk and my English was up to the English part though that didn't seem to be everyone's case. I'm not talking about the Spanish; I'm talking about the English. I thought we had some most amusing culture and translation problems.

In the Q&A session someone asked in English about a building that had a "big flat stone" inside, "probably" for processing grapes. The translator turned the English into Spanish and talked about grapes and wine to the Francesc, the speaker. He said he didn't know of any bodegas (wineries) but, in his answer, he mentioned almazaras, oil mills, places to press olives. The translator, missing the cultural confusion of what was being processed, didn't mention the oil mill reference at first. It was all sorted out in the end of course. The big flat stone was for crushing olives - oil not wine. Back in Elland we Britons didn't process a lot of wine or oil either.

Someone else asked about the history of some cave houses. They asked if it were true that the houses had originally been dug in Roman times so that people with leprosy had somewhere to live away from the village. As we'd just been told that basically there wasn't a village of la Romana until the turn of the 20th century and that no Roman artefacts had been found in the area the answer was going to be disappointing for the questioners. I could imagine the number of times that story had been told to visitors.

I don't know about you but I don't really have any trouble with American English. If someone talks about fawcets and car trunks I am not confused.  And if neither pronounced one way and neither pronounced the other are American and British English then I have no idea which is which. Although I may be dissimulating I think I remember being taken to see South Pacific and, if I do, I would have been four at the time. So I have been watching Hollywood movies (films) for a long time. I would suppose the true is same for almost any English speaker worldwide.

So, last night, there is a second question about cave houses in nearby Algueña. There is some initial confusion about which cave houses and where. There is a secondary question, in English, in the air, from an audience member, about whether these may be the cave houses behind the petrol station. The translator picks up this question and relays it to the speaker. The Spanish word gasolinera for petrol station, service station, comes back in the translator's American English. "Are these the caves behind ther gas station? The original question asker says she doesn't know anything about a gas station in Algueña and the whole question just sort of evaporates. I don't know Algueña well but the petrol station on the main road through the village is obvious. I'm sure the original questioner knows it too. So this time I think we have a linguistic problem related to gas, as in cookers, as against gas, as in gasoline.

The group that made me aware of this event - Spanish International Alicante - says that its aim is to promote friendship, integration and interchange of languages through social evenings, events and cultural activities. That was certainly going on last night.

It takes all sorts

A Facebook group that I'm a member of, Spanish International Alicante, advertised a bilingual history evening in the nearby village of la Romana some 16 or 17 km down the hill towards Elche. The title, or at least one of the titles, was Spain's Transition to Democracy.

I turned up. It looked to me as though the room for the meeting had only recently been finished because it was all a bit sparse. There was a decent enough crowd, mainly Spanish and British. A couple of people made a point of greeting me so the welcome was warm enough even if the room was a bit chilly.

We started pretty much on time, maybe fifteen to twenty minutes late, with a welcome from the Deputy Mayor of La Romana. He was young and dressed in a sort of modern teddy boy style. We went to a very strange parade in la Romana once. Maybe alternative is something they cultivate.

The woman who gave the talk was called Anabel Sánchez. She'd given herself quite a task, to cover the years from the proclamation of the Second Republic, in 1931, through to the stable democracy in Spain in 1981. She had an hour and she did everything in English and in Spanish. Fifty years in sixty minutes or thirty minutes for each language. It could never be anything other than a quick and superficial overview but she did a good job in my opinion.

A lot of the talk centred on the Spanish Civil War and the resulting dictatorship because that's the period from 1936 through to 1975. Anabel's viewpoint was openly anti Franco and pro woman. She poked fun at the Francoist view of women's roles. She stressed the repression and the misery of rationing in Francoist Spain which caused some bubbling amongst a couple of members of the audience who pointed out that Britain had also suffered rationing during and after the Second World War.

At the end of the talk people were doing that milling around thing. I heard one of the organisers of the event ask one of the audience what she had thought. I expected the usual sort of "very interesting" answer but, instead, the attendee said she thought that it had been a terrible talk and that the speaker was obviously biased, that her views should be balanced by inviting a more conservative speaker to the group and that the root cause of the turmoil in Spain for all those years was the destruction of political order wrought by the Republic.

Even now it makes me laugh. It's fair enough that people have a range of political views but the idea that someone could even vaguely defend an incompetent and bloodthirsty dictatorship forty years after its demise is so ridiculous that it didn't cross my mind to be angry or repelled.

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The photo by the way is a house that was code named Posición Yuste and was the last headquarters of the Republican Government in Spain in the nearby town of Elda