Spanish views from a small town

Tonight is the original Samhain, and tomorrow All Saints' Day. Being where we are, in Celtic Galicia, we're very serious about the ancient traditions. We remember our dead these days, just as we've done for millennia and appreciate the Church's moving its All Hallows feast to the appropriate date back in the eighth century. That said, now we celebrate our ancestors by taking flowers to the cemetery, instead of leaving doors open and a plate of food by the fire. But we still frighten off evil spirits that might commingle with the good ones by carving pumpkins and squashes and setting candles in them.  Some years when I came on vacation, and talk got around to ghost stories, friends and I agreed to leave a tape recorder in the cemetery late one night to see if it would record any voices. We never did. We were too much in awe of the dead at night. It comes from too many centuries of folklore of the dead, such as the Santa Compaña in Galicia, which portends the death of

God did not make clocks. God did not make time zones. God made even less the twice a year hour changes. "Fall back" and "spring forward" were never meant to describe the changes on the hour hand of the clock face. They have now become two of the vilest phrases in the English language. This past night we were supposed the move the clocks back one hour and gain some sleep, besides ruining our circadian rhythm and having nightfall cut off our afternoon plans earlier than usual. Early this morning my husband had planned to go fishing, and had to get up at 4:15 by the new hour. Accordingly, when I went to bed after he did, I adjusted the clock radio, setting it one hour back and setting the alarm. Instead of 00:15 it now read 23:15. Our clock radio is at least ten or fifteen years old, and is a similar model to one we had before. It is not connected to any form of internet, only the radio waves, and does not change the hour automatically like computers or smartphones

What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet. That's what Shakespeare or his friend, Christopher Marlowe, asserted. Yet, if we were to call a rose a stink-cabbage, our minds would shrink from sticking our nose in one. Can we use the name of a criminal organization and turn it into a diner's gratifying experience? Certain Italian associations and the European Union don't think so.  The European Union, pressed by the Italian government, has issued a comp laint against La Mafia Se Sienta a la Mesa chain restaurants oblig ing the m to ch ange the ir name. If the chain does not do so, it will be forced to close. Various associations within I taly claim that the co mmon use of the name "Mafia" is an attempt to norm alize that crimina l or ganization and should be stopped by the European Union. The decision has been appealed, and the view of the owners of the original rest aurant an d the chain, is that they do not prom

This fall is so gradually introducing itself that many days it seems it's still late summer. Nights fall into the lower fifties, upper forties, and the halcyon days are in the upper sixties. (10ºC - 21ºC) It's not cold, and I'm only wearing a blouse or a t-shirt with my jeans. Sometimes I'll drape a sweater over my shoulders, but in the afternoons it becomes burdensome, though I never put it too far away.  It seems most people aren't sure what to wear, either. I have seen people bundled up in winter boots, winter coats, and scarves on a balmy afternoon . O thers I have see n wearing short-sleeved t-shirts and sandals i n a still-fresh early morning. I've still seen shorts an d tank tops out there, as well as an undecided young woman wearing a winter coat, mini-skirt, and bare legs yesterday morning.  It's not strange that there are more colds going around. If you dress for the warmer temperatures during the day, and night finds you outside, you'll

Once upon a time, twenty-five years ago, the dates followed each other on the calendar. Before celebrating Easter, we celebrated Carnival, before Going Back to School, we went on Vacation, before Christmas Joy came September, October, and November.  It's really not too much to ask. I remember re-runs of Loony Tunes cartoons, where a character would sometimes dress up as Santa Claus to fool another one. The to-be-fooled looked at the calendar, which said July, and the trick was up. If a cartoonist did that same scene today, the to-be-fooled would be fooled, because we start celebrating Christmas up to six months ahead now. In the month of July, with everyone heading to the beach, grateful for the summer ahead, the Christmas lottery goes on sale. In July. These past years, to cajole visiting tourists into buying a ticket, a poster has been taped to the windows of the lottery offices, ¿Y si Cae Aquí? (And if it [the winning number] falls here?). Few pass up on the opportunity to

I can eat the same thing for breakfast for a month and not complain. Do not give me the same dish for lunch two days in a row. I don't know why, but breakfast is a meal that I must eat but could care less about. The only thing I require of it is that it be quickly made and be accompanied by coffee.  From time to time, though, a whimsy comes upon me of preparing something more complicated. I have gone through several breakfast routines. My current routine is Greek yoghurt with mixed nuts and sometimes blueberries. Before that there have been varying routines. There are stretches of time when I eat cereal and milk. That can quickly end as I settle for the faster doughnut. There's a mouldering box of cereal on top of my refrigerator as a testament to that lightning switch in routine. The fast doughnut is sometimes replaced by a warm buttered croissant in the French fashion, as I learned to love two years ago in France. Though, the heavier Spanish croissants tend to have a sugary

Ah, the Spanish picaresque! It didn't die in the Spanish Golden Age; it's alive and doing very well. Lazarillo de Tormes, if he had existed, would have been proud of his compatriots. Those who have iPhones know how expensive they can be. Three young men in Zafra, Badajoz, also realized that problem. So they designed a phone, called Zetta, completely assembled in Zafra, that was just as good as the iPhone, but much cheaper. In the end, they developed four models, the most expensive cost €275.95 and the cheapest €169.95. Their logo, as a way of saying they were the Spanish iPhone, was a bitten acorn, just like the acorns pigs in Extremadura eat to then create the tasty cured hams. That was in 2014. Since then, they have sold hundreds of phones, a few online, many at their flagship store in Zafra, and other stores. They even met with the regional president of Extremadura last year, who promised them seven hundred thousand euros to help with research and development.  Until las

What is normal in a daily relationship between a man and a woman? Is it normal that a man's eyes drift to the woman's breasts frequently? Is it normal that he brush against her, having the entire office space to move in? Is it normal for him to casually lay his hand on her thigh?  Obviously, it's not normal. He is invading her personal space uninvited. But if she complains, she'll just be told it's his way of working, of responding. Yet he doesn't do the same with male co-workers, just the females. If the woman decides to speak with a lawyer, the lawyer will tell her that she has no case. It's not against the law for a man to show a woman that she's attractive. It is still extremely difficult to prove a case of sexual harassment, at least in Spain. For every case that is won, there must be thousands that don't even get filed. Because the woman will be told the man simply finds her attractive and that nothing bad has happened. It's still conside