DISCOVERING POLITICS

(ex-president Aznar publicising his book, with Atocha unfortunately in the background)
In England, I never read a newspaper or watched the news. If it didn´t happen on my doorstep, I didn´t want to know.
Surprising, ´cos I´d worked in state education nearly all my working life.
I had friends who were very knowledgeable about all aspects of every newsy situation, and had a million facts at their fingertips. So I kept my mouth shut (always a bit of an effort) and listened.
When I moved to Spain, I was desperate to understand everything going on around me - felt like I´d gone deaf all of a sudden - people were talking but I couldn´t understand anything. So I learnt Spanish very fast.
I also read "Stupid White Men" like everyone else, and discovered that I could slip in little quotes from it when the occasion demanded - always prefaced with "I heard that..." (so that, if I were wrong, I wouldn´t look too stupid)
But I discovered that some friends were SO knowledgeable, they even knew the names of obscure religious leaders who might have contributed to funds that had contributed to a fundamentalist cause that...who? Bush?....(And one of these friends had the emotional IQ of a gnat)
News coverage in Spain is very good - very international and quite shocking in the gore they show (which I think is good for news-shy people like me). Bombs went off on about as regular a basis as they did in London in the 80s.
Then, on the 11th March 2003, two bombs went off 100 metres from my flat in Atocha - they shook the window panes and rattled the cats. The sound of ambulances and helicopters almost drowned out the sound of the telly that I was glued to the rest of the day.

I had to pass through the station everyday to get to work - all you could smell were candles, and see were messages and flowers and people with wet eyes...OK, I admit it, the smoke got in MY eyes too...
The general elections flipped the whole country over like a fluffy tortilla: a normally complacent race, who had become apathetic in their politics, given to believe that nothing could be done about the Iraq war, Afghanistan, or Bush, suddenly discovered that their vote counted - big time.
I was with some friends the night of the elections. We´d gone to the PP (govt) headquarters to watch the socialists get whipped again, and realisation dawned (accompanied by wide grins) that the people in our bar were looking progressively sicker.
I strolled into the middle of a small crowd of flag-waving Govt supporters and, really, just for the hell of it, started to chant "Asesino, tú y tu partido!" (Sorry, doesn´t have the same ring in English.)

Well, I´d never been bashed over the head with a flag by a member of the upper-middle classes, and certainly never been socked in the jaw by a middle-aged gentleman, so I was slightly taken aback!
Naturally, I started chanting (shouting by this point) even louder...till I was hauled away by a police officer. One photographer, running down the road, alongside us, kept repeating "Wasn´t she great?"
I kept shouting "I want to talk to a British camera crew....." The place was flooded with media from all over Europe.
The police demanded to see my identity card, took down all my details and said "Why did you do it? They could´ve killed you!"
So I replied "Freedom of speech dead and buried in this country is it? - I was merely expressing my opinion out loud...very loud..."
He asked me where I lived (to check that the identity card was really mine), and I said "Atocha", at which point his expression took on that hang-dog look, that had become common in recent days.
He booted me off the street and told me not to come back. So me and my friend took refuge in a couple of ciders in a nearby Irish pub, and nursed my jaw.
For two months, people crept about their business in my barrio; I started biting my nails again (so sorry for everyone); business was bad at my local pet shop.
So, being a bit of a fan of the BBC News website, I browsed (in this order)...Spanish elections...ETA...Spanish history... the Iraq war...9-11...Bush...ETA...the IRA...Palestine... And by the end, I had folders and folders on my hard drive of STUFF. And then I browsed...the New York Times... Antiwar.com...the Guardian...Michael Moore´s website...
As Autumn closed in, and the terraces closed, I changed the bar I go to for morning coffee. Not spectacular in itself maybe, but the bar had a newspaper, El País, delivered every morning, and I did some more browsing...
I became obsessed, and now BUY the paper, and even CUT OUT interesting articles! Yes, ring the loony bin now...
My conversations now start "I have a theory, see what you think..."
Go on, ask me; ask me anything...

P.S. do you like my photos?