Everybody knows

José Pozo Madrid, a poet from the town of Tomelloso in Castilla la Mancha, won this year's  "Maxi Banegas" poetry competition organised by Pinoso Town Hall. We were at the local theatre last night to see him get his prize.

The format of the evening was a recital of some arias from various operas and zarzuelas (a sort of Spanish light opera) performed by a tenor and soprano with piano accompaniment. The programme was six or seven songs, the prizegiving and then a few more songs. I'm pretty sure that at least one, if not both, of the performers were the same people we saw at an event called Lírica a couple of years ago. It was an enjoyable evening.

I wondered who Maxi Banegas was. I know that the local library is named in his or her honour (Maxi isn't a name I know so it doesn't necessarily suggest either male or female to me) but I had this vague notion that she was a teacher at the local school who gained some local fame as a poet. So I went in search of the information on Google. I found the rules for the competition and lots of references to the event but, about the person, hardly a word. The best I got was that the event began in 1997 to honour one of the most loved and important poets of Pinoso, Doña Maxi Banegas (proof that she was a woman at least.) Neither Fnac nor Casa del Libro have any of her work for sale. Absolutely zilch.

Just another example of something that "everybody knows." Just to check that I wasn't being a bit jingoistic about this I Googled a couple of British poets I know the names of and there was plenty of info. But maybe that's unfair (I only know famous names) so I tried William Cowper an 18th Century poet who lived in Huntingdon, you know, the bloke who wrote the hymn "There is a fountain, filled with blood." Plenty of info.

The event finished in time for us to see the Barça - Man. U game.


El Certamen Nacional de poesía de “Maxi Banegas” se creó en el año 1997 para homenajear a una de las poetisas más querida e importante de Pinoso, Dña. Maxi Banegas.

Spontaneous combustion

During the week our mate Geoff sent me a message asking if I knew why our grey plastic compost bin was melted and smouldering. He was in Culebrón and we were in Cartagena. I didn't.

All I could presume was that the rotting vegetable matter had heated up inside the composter and produced some flamable gas. Hey bingo!, spontaneous combustion.

There wasn't much left to look at when we got back. It must have produced a good deal of heat though as there is damage to the nearby fig, apple and plum trees.

Well there's a surprise

Not the usual sort of entry. All over Spain the PSOE, the Labour Party equivalent, has been badly mauled. The political map of Spain has turned blue, the colour of the conservative PP.

But not in Pinoso, well not at the most local level anyway. The PSOE seems to have gone from 2 to 5 seats and the local UCL seems to have had a bad day. I say seems to because the national news media that I've checked for the results has some mistakes that I'm aware of and so I've had to do a bit of interpretation.

There were 5,299 potential voters in Pinoso of which 212 were not Spanish (a lot of those being Brits.) Turnout was just over 80% with 4.4% spoiled papers and 1.4% said that they were unhappy to vote for any of the candidates offered by handing in a blank vote.

Party	Councillors 2011	Votes 2011	Councillors 2007	Votes 2007
PSOE	5	1291	2	779
PP	3	1030	5	1355
PSD	2	691	1	507
UCL	2	689	4	1045
BLOC	1	477	1	354

Polling Stations

I'm not sure and I can't find the details on the Internet but I'm more or less certain that every polling station notice I've ever seen in the UK has had the same print style - a heavy sans serif font. When we went to vote in Pinoso this morning I don't think there was any sort of notice ouside the polling station.

We were only allowed to vote in the local, town hall, elections. We EU residents are disenfranchised at provincial level.

Voting day is Sunday, not Thursday as in the UK. Ahh, yes, that's why we voted today!

Spanish polling stations open from 9am to 8pm. In the UK I think normal hours are 7am to 10pm.

In Spanish elections it is necessary to produce photographic proof of identity. In our case that meant our passport.

In Spain the candidates stroll back and forth between the various polling stations saying hello to people. At the table where your eligibility to vote is checked and where you deposit your ballot there are three polling station staff. There are lots of other people sitting at adjoining tables. I understand they are party sympathisers scrutinizing a fair vote. I thought that this was different to the UK where I have never seen any party sympathisers inside the station. Apparently though  UK candidates and agents can visit polling stations too so long as they don't try to canvass.

In the UK the vote is for a named individual by making a mark on a voting slip. In Spain, where there is a proportional representation system, each party puts forward sufficient candidates to cover all of the seats available within the given constituency. Depending on the percentage of the vote the party captures a corresponding number of their candidates are elected. The top of the list first, the second next and so on. Voters do not mark the paper in any way they simply select the list for their chosen party, pop it inside an envelope and then put the envelope in the ballot box.

I'm not sure they would have let me take the picture in a UK polling station either. Then again I've never thought to ask.

Ho ho ho

I mentioned that one of the local political parties "employs" a chap to help the Brit community. Today he sent around information about legislation that says we need to fit a limiting device to the electric supply. Apparently this limiting device was supposed to be installed by January 2010 with the power companies having an obligation to send a letter informing us of that responsibility. Obviously we haven't received the letter but I suppose it will be on its way soon.

I was vaguely aware of the legislation from some mumblings on the letters pages of the newspapers and from a conversation in a Spanish class but until the information today I hadn't checked the detail.

Lots of Spanish houses have really miserable power supplies by UK standards. Our house, for instance has a contracted supply of about 2.2kw which means that the circuit breakers should pop when we plug in the 3kw electric kettle. They don't because when we moved into the place we had it rewired and the sparks put in a board that would deal with about 5.5kw.

The main problem that we have is that the wire that brings power to the house is thin - it simply can't carry more power. The combination of the thin cable and bigger board means that we can run more than we are supposed to but that lights dim, kettles run slowly etc when we try draw more power than the cable can provide.

When we first moved in I tried to get the power company to upgrade the supply but the maximum we could have was 3.3kw. I talked to a Spanish electrician and his advice was to leave well alone. If we wanted a decent supply we would have to get the power company to beef up the supply and we were talking thousands of euros.

What's happening now is that the new device will limit us to the power we're contracted for. Try to draw more and the circuits breaker will pop. If we don't get the device fitted the bill will start to carry a penalty of around 15€ per month. We also probably need to get a certificate to say that our power supply is safe as the original certificate (which I've never seen) is obviously out of date because we had the wiring installation changed.

This could all get a bit sticky. Do as we should and we end up with stone age electricity. Do nothing and the fines will start to add up. Try to sort it out properly and it will certainly costs hundreds and maybe thousands.

Ho, hum.

Pieces of Eight

No political meetings this afternoon. Instead we went treasure hunting.

If you've never done a car treasure hunt the idea is pretty simple. You are given some sort of route to follow - sometimes the route is explained in words, sometimes it's a map and sometimes it's written in crossword puzzle cryptic style. Along the route the "competitors" have to collect specific pieces of information and sometimes physical items - beermats used to be a favourite in bygone, pre drink drive legislation, days in the UK. Obviously running into a boozer and swiping a beermat was unthinkable but if you bought a glass of something the mat came as a free gift.

The local branch of the Royal British Legion, working with one of the local Brit run bars, El Cortijo, organised the treasure hunt around the Pinoso area. Splendid idea I thought, something a bit different to do on a Sunday afternoon, a fund raiser for the Legion and a meal afterwards back at el Cortijo.

When we'd finished the route and polished off the food I began to fret about getting home to do a bit of prep work for the coming week. I never feel comfortable about breaking out the brandy in front of the telly till I have my classes ready. Nevertheless, it would have been churlish not to hang on for the prize giving, so we did.

I'm glad we did. Amazingly we won the prize for  the best two person crew and we carried away chocolates and cava as a prize. So it looks as though I'll have some chocs to eat with the brandy in front of the telly then!

Out and about yet again

The Socialist meeting today was held in the little park alongside the social centre in the Santa Catalina district of the town. The event started with elevenses followed by speeches from three of the candidates including their man for mayor who rejoices in the name of Lázaro. They were unlucky. The splendid weather of yesterday had gone and the day was grey, miserable and cold.

The audience was relatively small, bigger than the UCL yesterday evening but much smaller than the PP on Friday. The crowd was an enthusiastic bunch though - much more spontaneous applause than at either of the other two meetings. The message was quite different too and I heard some things that rang true to me but of which I had been unaware. The difference being, I suppose, that the Socialists have been in opposition for the last four years and are able to aportion blame for what they consider to be the errors of the last administration. Their proposals, like the proposals of the other two, sounded reasonable but I suppose they would.

No free gifts to speak of but at least they had their manifesto available.

Out and about again

Tonight on my personal election trail it was the UCL - Unión Centro Liberal - a party local to Pinoso with no national affiliation. This group have been courting the British vote for the last few years by offering an English Language Helpdesk

They must have been very disappointed with the turnout. Perhaps everyone was at home to see if Lucía Peréz would win Eurovision for Spain, but the local cultural centre conference room looked distinctly underpopulated. I don't think there were any Britons there apart from the chap who runs the helpdesk and the British candidate in their lists. Then again I know very few people so I could well be wrong.

I thought the political message was clear though and there was almost no sniping at the opposition which I rather approve of. On top of that they gave me free gifts - a notebook and a pen - not up to the standard of the gifts of four years ago but more useful than the plastic flags from last night. I've already seen an English translation of the main areas of their manifesto but it would have been nice if there had been a full copy available at the meeting.

Campaigning - Spanish style

The PSD website said that they would be in the social centre in Santa Catalina all day.

I wanted a copy of their electoral programme so we popped along, after lunch, to pick one up. There were a lot of people with the remains of lunch on the tables underneath the trees. As we wandered around the hall looking for a leaflet the man on the bar called over to ask if we wanted a beer. No leaflets though.

Free food, free beer. Nothing political. Campaigning, Spanish style.

Out and about

I've always enjoyed election time - getting out to hear the candidates, even the ones I wouldn't expect to vote for. I still remember being poked in the chest by Maggie Thatcher and fearing for my life as Willie Whitelaw's bodyguards reached inside their jackets perhaps thinking my long camera lens was something more sinister.

Yesterday evening  I went to hear what the local PP, the Conservative Party equivalent, had to say for themselves. Fortunately I was neither poked nor menaced.

The routine was pretty straightforward. Several of the prospective councillors stood up and explained what the PP intended to do in each of their areas be that education, health or employment. There was also a representative of the provincial PP to show central support for the candidates and to emphasise the broader reach of the PP campaign.

One of the candidates is an English woman. She's a long way down the list and, to be honest, has no chance of being elected but she has a symbolic significance to the expat British community. The UCL and BLOC, two of the other parties, also have someone in their list with the same  function and the PSD seems to have a meeting aimed at English speakers but no candidate.

The person who introduced her failed to mention that she would be speaking in English for the benefit of the non Spanish speakers. There was a general murmuring from the Spanish audience as she started but she did well; she ploughed on and explained the whole PP programme quickly and succinctly.

UCL tonight with a bit of luck and then the PSOE tomorrow morning.

I pinched the photos from Facebook. Can you see me in the one of the audience?

Fiestas and paper hankies in Abanilla

The tissues were not needed for an annoying sniffle. They were not needed to dab away a breakaway tear at an emotional moment. They were needed to block up our ears; torn in half and twisted into a cone they produced makeshift, but perfectly serviceable, ear plugs. The clue was that the majority of people cradling an arquebus were also sporting ear defenders.

The One True Cross was doing a tour of the town of Abanilla supported by the Captains, Pages, Queens, the Faithful and the Holy Brotherhood of the Vera Cruz. The Town Band, the Santa Cruz, were out too and when that Cross appeared at the church door the arquebuses made an awful din and covered us in smoke and soot. "It's a salute to the Cross," said a man, "no bullets in them today."

We caught up with the shooters a little further down the route, salvo after salvo, then one of the girls in the funny frocks bowed to the armed guard escorting the Cross and they let go a volley as well. Distinctly odd but good fun.