Do I remember it like it was yesterday?
Or have I just talked about it so much it feels recent?

Here’s my account of Spain’s 23-F, part of the chapter C is for Corona, in The A to Z of Spanish Culture.

On the 23rd February 1981, Leopoldo Calvo Sotelo was ready to become the second president of Spain’s new democracy. All Spanish eyes (or most of them) were glued to the television to witness another event with democracy at its core. 

And then it happened. 

Under the counting of the votes, a commotion.

A bit of noise outside. 

The President of the Congress asking softly, “¿Qué pasa?” (“What’s going on?”)

And then a lieutenant, in full guardia civil gear, wearing the classic tricornio (a three-pointed hat worn by the civil guard) entered the Congress, with a gun in his hand. 

“Quieto todo el mundo.” (“Everyone, stand still.”)

Followed by:

“Al suelo, al suelo todo el mundo.” (“Everyone, down on the floor.”)

Then more military, this time with machine guns. A few shots and most of the politicians were forced to crouch down in their seats. Most except Suárez and Gutierrez Mellado, a military man who was Minister of Defence at the time and who directly challenged the intruders. Luckily for him, he was just pushed around a bit and not shot. I was watching this on television and I remember Suárez shouting at the military, “I’m the president, I’m the president,” as if thinking that his resignation had caused the mess and wanted to take it back. 

Looking for footage of the event on YouTube, I found a video with commentary from a radio journalist. You don’t need to speak Spanish to hear the panic in his voice as he realised what was happening. Meanwhile, the camera darts everywhere following the bullets from the machine guns and finally it stops, pointing at the ceiling. A male voice is then heard saying:

“No intentes apuntar la cámara que te mato.” 

(“Don’t try to point the camera or I’ll kill you.”)

You can imagine every Spanish heart sinking very low as they watched this coup. People who’d fought for freedom of speech; politicians who had been involved in the transition to democracy (la Transición), young people like me (I was 9 years old) who knew they had narrowly escaped repression and oppression and could see clearly in their parents’ faces the words “No, please, not again…” Everyone stared at the TV, waiting to see if this event would affect their lives. 

The phone rang in my house. It was the Danish mother of a friend of mine, calling to ask for advice. What was going on?What should she do? Send the kids to school the following day? Keep them home?

Luckily, all this happened at a time when TV was already a part of most Spanish households. Calvo Sotelo (who was being elected president on the 23rd February) points out in his book Memoria viva de la transición, that watching the drama unfold on T.V. stripped the coup of any mystery and therefore, of some of its impact. There wouldn’t be time for rumours or urban myths to emerge, as everyone had had the chance to witness the event live on T.V. Just as the Spanish population saw the event live, they also witnessed how it was knocked on the head by a simple, straightforward speech. 

Extracted from the chapter C is for Corona, The A to Z of Spanish Culture.

The third edition of The A to Z of Spanish Culture is now out, as Kindle, e-book and paperback. You can find out how the book has been updated in this post. If you purchased the previous edition and would like the updated sections, please comment in this blog (all comments need to be approved first, so I won’t publish them) and let me know. I will send you a PDF will the updates.

Many thanks again to Paul Read for his contribution. There’s no way this update would have happened otherwise. You can listen to Paul and Pilar talk about the update here:

Here’s the introduction to the third edition:

When I originally wrote ‘The A to Z of Spanish Culture’, I was hoping to sell a few books and make enough money to cover the costs of book formatting and cover design. So I was very pleased with how well the book was received by those with an interest in Spain and to my surprise, my little book about my country of origin made the recommended reading lists of academic programmes in both schools and universities.

An A-level Spanish teacher called Cristina told me that she recommends the book to the students in her London school precisely because it is such a condensed read. “Once they’ve read the book, they can identify which aspects of Spanish history and culture interests them most, and they can go and study those topics in depth.”
When I first found out how the book was being used, I considered updating it but felt too removed from the country to be able to do so. I’d also stopped publishing the ‘Spain Uncovered’ podcast, so I had little motivation to catch up with and share what had gone on in Spain. But when last year a generous reviewer pointed out that “An update to 2017 would be great as a lot has happened there,” I thought, “Right, now is the time to do this.”
I’d written ‘The A to Z’ to show how much Spanish society had evolved during the 1980s, 90s and first decade of the 21st Century. I thought the country had evolved and changed massively during that time. What I didn’t expect was there would still be more twists and turns on their way.

Introducing Paul Read
In the first edition of ‘The A to Z’, I said everything I had to say about Spain. I’ve now been away from the country for more than 25 years and I don’t stay much up to date with what’s going on there. This means I’m not the best person to update this book, so I reached out to the only other writer who I knew would enjoy putting down some brief words about those aspects of Spanish society and politics that had undergone the most significant changes since the last edition of the book.

Luckily, in between his own projects (which mainly involve teaching TaiChi online), Paul Read aka “Gazpacho Monk” accepted to take on the task of writing a few paragraphs to bring this ‘A to Z’ up to date.

So, what’s new then?

– There is a new, M is for Más Movidas chapter which summarises the recent change in Spain’s political landscape, as well as the rising number of corruption cases. Paul has done a brilliant job of explaining some very complex court cases, some of which are still ongoing (which means we had to tread carefully when laying them out in front of you).

– Speaking of corruption, I’ve expanded the chapter on C is for Corona to include the recent scandal involving members of the Spanish Royal Family using some of Paul’s notes.

– The chapter Ñ is for Ñ has been expanded to include the current situation in Cataluña. In the original chapter, I didn’t go into the different nationalist movements in much depth. That was because I have never had much of an identity as a Spaniard, and so I’ve never empathised with those holding strong nationalistic views. Even though I’ve been aware of the quest for independence from both Basque and Catalans all my life, I never took much interest. However, at this point in time, to have a book about Spanish culture that didn’t cover the Catalan movement in some depth would be to miss out a very important moment in contemporary history.

– In the new section When Ñ Becomes NY, I have left Paul’s words almost intact. He’s always had an interest in the history of Cataluña (which is at the centre of his book ‘Forgotten Stories From Spain: 1984 and The Spanish Civil War’) and once again, he’s been able to summarise clearly a very complex situation. Unfortunately, this chapter has an open ending, reflecting the unresolved status of this episode in history.

Paul has also provided me with bits and pieces to bring other chapters of the book up to date. I’ve peppered them around and adapted them to my own voice as much as possible.
Finally, in the interest of balancing his own opinions with facts (or at least with other opinions in the public arena), Paul has provided us with the long list of sources he used while writing the new pieces. You can find them all in the appendix Vocabulary and References.

I hope you enjoy this new edition, which, as well as facts and my own stories, now also includes someone else’s voice.

Pilar Orti
London, March 2018

In the first of two special episodes on The A to Z of Spanish Christmas, I talk about

Aguinaldo
Belén
Campanadas
Dulces
Estoy como unas pascuas
Fruta escarchada
Gallo (misa del)
Historia
Inocentes
Juguetes
K – no K, sorry.
Lotería
Mazapán

Please follow this link to listen to the podcast, www.spainuncoveredpodcast.net/spanish-christmas-1/

or look for Spain Uncovered in iTunes, Stitcher of your favourite podcast app.

It’s Christmas time!

I’ve completely neglected this blog while I’ve been setting up the Spain Uncovered podcast and building up that site. But I’m back! And as it’s Christmas time, I wanted to share with you one of the chapters from the A to Z of Spanish Culture: U is for Uvas, where I talk through some of the Spanish Christmas traditions, or at least, through some of the ones I’ve come across throughout my life.

Here it is.

Feliz navidad.

Who is the Happy Guiri?

He (or she, they can also be a she) is a person currently away from the land they grew up in.

That doesn’t mean they’re not happy. On the contrary. The happy guiris, by their very name and nature, manage to find happiness everywhere they go. Why?

They look around them and wonder at the wanders of human nature. They also wonder at the wanders of nature, full stop.

They take in what’s different, they take in what’s new. They compare, maybe, and then they move on.

The happy guiri is warm, not indifferent.

The smile behind his eyes takes in the whole world.

If he carries a camera, he still takes in life as he breathes and doesn’t just see the world through a rose-tinted lens. He might be “away” for two days, he might be “away” for two years, two decades…

Happy guiris know that there’s no place like home, but they also know that home is where the heart is. (They also speak in clichés every now and then.)

He’ll always feel like a guiri because he knows there’s a different way. But he will always be happy. A happy guiri.

“What is a guiri?” Guiri is the term that the Spanish use for foreigners, mainly for tourists, but not exclusively. I mainly hear it used affectionately now. In Spain, you can still spot a tourist or a foreigner; in London it’s a little bit harder. So a guiri is someone who breaks the mold, if only because their points of reference are different to most people around him/her. I now consider myself a guiri in Spain; I even look like one, especially when I walk around with my Dutch boyfriend who really looks the part. So, I’m a foreigner in the UK and a guiri in Spain. Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner…