Spanish views from a small town

Today, I was called to the bank, in Padrón. The person sent an email with the appointment, in case I was stopped, but I wasn't. The drive up was quiet. There were few cars out, fewer than normal. I relished the change in scenery, even though I've never particularly liked Padrón. That opinion was strengthened, as I passed down a street that was once teeming with shops. Now, every other storefront is closed, and For Sale, or For Rent signs abound. But it's been so since before the pandemic. The person at the bank had called me, and was calling crowds of people, because the conditions of all bank accounts are now changing. When my parents opened this account, the bank was the Banco Pastor. A few years ago, it was bought and absorbed by the Banco Popular. This, in turn, was eaten and swallowed whole by the mega-bank, Banco Santander. And now, they're out to become even richer.  Once upon a time there were caixas , or cajas , in Spain, which were like savings banks or coop b...

Ah! Money! To have the clean, crisp feel of a banknote in your hand! Even if it's a small bill, it's still physically in your hand. You can turn it over, scrunch it up, smooth it out, fold it over, fold it into a boat, whatever. It can even go through a wash and rinse cycle and come out clean and new and ready to be hung to dry with the rest of the laundry. There is no doubt that you have it and can exchange it for whatever its denomination can buy. (If it's a five euro bill, that's not going to be much.) Ah! A card! A cold stiff plastic card to be kept safe. You can't fold it; if you do, you destroy it. You can only hold it out in your hand to stick into a machine. Or you can put it into a slot in your wallet, but far from any magnet or it's useless. You can't put it in your pocket because you might bend it, and it's quite uncomfortable to feel its unyielding shape in that small space, anyway. You can buy anything with it, depending on what the bank s...

In before-crisis Spain, when everything was fine and dandy and a bank would give loans just for the fun of it, there was a financial institution on almost every corner and in almost every village. There were the normal corporate banks, and the cajas, which were like a cross between a credit union and a savings and loan bank. These last were set up in the nineteenth century for clients who needed financial help but didn't have enough resources to be even looked at by the commercial for-profit banks. Cajas never charged commissions for simple things, like having an open account with less than a certain amount deposited in it. Their charters also obliged them to be involved in social and cultural aspects of society. Dividends could not be distributed among the subscribers (clients) and had to perforce be invested in society.  The boards of directors were made up of members of the local governing bodies, either municipal or regional; clients; founders or owners; and workers. During...

If any one person embodies the spirit of get-rich-quick Spain that was the essence of this country in the 1980's, that person is Mario Conde. He is the son of a Customs officer who has become a lawyer, economist, and one-time politician. He went from having a brilliant record at the Universidad de Deusto, to becoming the youngest president of the disappeared bank, Banesto, to being arrested and condemned for fraud and misappropriation. This week he has just been arrested for money laundering. His problems began while he was the president of Banesto. The bank began failing, and government inspectors wanted to know why. When they found out money was missing, they discovered that Mr. Conde had helped it to disappear. In various trials, between 1994 and 2002, he was condemned to different prison terms that amounted in all to twenty-six years, of which he spent in prison only five and a half. The money that had disappeared (a hefty amount of various millions of euros) remained missing...

It's not enough that with the general elections set for the twentieth of December we have to listen to the mad ravings of politicians. It's not enough that after doing everything they legally could to hamper people from voting by setting elections on a day so close to Christmas and trips home, the governing party is now spewing promises that everyone knows are cheaper than Christmas glitter. It's not enough that the other leaders are pushing each other in the public eye like kindergartners, each claiming they are the best and the only salvation of the country. No, that circus isn't enough. I also have to receive a telephone call from my bank, urging me to buy a special insurance. I hate being told what to do, or someone coming up and offering something when I had no intention of asking for anything. Whenever I'm in a store I try to avoid the clerk that comes up and asks if they can help me. If I need help, I'll go ask for it. Until then, don't bother me, l...