Sell our Soul

Normally Spanish movies aren't worth the money of the ticket you buy to see them. They're predictable, sometimes badly acted, and have stumbling story lines. But this year there's one that sounds interesting. It's called El Olivo (The Olive Tree) and is directed by Icíar Bollaín. It's the story of a young woman who is very attached to her grandfather. But the man stopped talking twelve years earlier and now has stopped eating. The granddaughter is certain it is all caused by the sale of an ancient olive tree from their family olive grove twelve years earlier. Together with some friends, she sets out on a trip through Europe to find it and bring it back, to help her grandfather heal.

I imagine the underlying theme is that Spain has sold her soul to Europe for a little cash. True. What's also true is that we sell or destroy our heritage very easily for a fistful of euros. We tend to knock down old houses because they're "too small." Then we sell the land to have a ten story apartment tower or hotel built because that will bring more money than preserving the old house. During the boom years entire towns and cities changed their skylines by doing so. And lost the original beauty and reason for visiting. We also have an intangible, natural heritage that few even know or care about. The olive tree is an example.

Olive trees are thought to have been native to the entire Mediterranean area, thanks to fossilized remains. But they were not cultivated everywhere. Their cultivation began in Asia Minor, spread down toward Palestine and then was introduced to Cyprus and Greece. Phoenicians and Greeks brought their own cultivars to the Iberian Peninsula around three thousand years ago. During the Roman empire Spanish olive oil was highly valued. Arabs brought new cultivars and varieties. And language. The Spanish words aceituna (olive) and aceite (oil) come from the Arabic. Over time, production has been maintained and has grown in modern times. Spain is the largest producer and exporter of olive oil in the world.

So it is no surprise that there are old olive groves which have grown over hill and dale in the dry, warm areas of the Spanish Mediterranean and Andalucía. Many trees are new, but some are very old, and are lovingly maintained. Not so much for their age, but for the price they will bring. There are companies that will buy an olive tree purported to be over a thousand years old for maybe ten thousand euros, and then sell it for ten to twenty times that sum. It is perfectly legal. The trees are carefully dug up and then transported to their owner, sometimes in another country. France and Italy have prohibited the sale of old trees, but not Spain. In fact, some of the companies justify their business by saying it's better to dig up and sell the tree than to have it smashed up for firewood. If you type into your browser "comprar olivos centenarios" many sites will appear where you can pick and choose. One site I looked up offers two olive trees, over four hundred years old, that go for 2,500 and 3000 euros. But extraction and transport are not included. They are described as "excellent for decorating gardens."

But just because a tree is old doesn't mean it doesn't produce olives. The oldest known olive tree is in Ulldecona, Tarragona. Experts from a university have estimated that it was planted during the reign of Constantine I of Rome, over 1,700 years ago. It still gives olives. That is the oldest one known. There are probably some older still standing. If they haven't been dug up and sold, yet. Because a few euro bills have insinuated stronger roots into our culture than the tree whose thousand-year-old roots have helped to shore it up.