Protest!!

Along with most other European countries, Spain is experiencing an ‘economic crisis’ with rising job losses and a rising cost of living; the government’s main reaction to the crisis has been to drastically cut funding to the public sector with what they call “reforms”.  Public reaction against these is visible everywhere and in all cities of any size there are regular protests; as well as nation-wide strikes being organised pretty regularly and supported by various groups.  

As seems to be the case in many countries, the issues - including schools not being able to afford water or heating for their pupils and hospitals losing staff – often get clouded by reporting of the struggle between protesters and police. This is convenient for the government as it means that they can ignore the protesters; who in turn may become fixated by their fight against the police (by no means the real wielders of power).

However, this is not the only perception of protests in Spain.  During the Las Fallas festival, we participated in some of the daily protests which occurred at one of the Fallas’ largest events in the main square outside the government building. The protest was simply people waving red leaflets at the various members of the government appearing on the balcony overlooking the square; banging drums and generally letting it be known that although the Valencian government may hope that under the excitement of the Fallas the people will forget the cuts; they haven’t.  Also being waved were books – a symbol of the anti-cuts movement and presumably a dig at the government that such obviously detrimental and rather silly policies being flung about mean that the members really should be reading more - if they can read.  

The response on these days when we were there was for police to instruct the little street-cleaning vehicles to drive directly into the crowd of protesters – a clear message, if ever there was one! All was taken in good humour with ironic cheers for the street-cleaner drivers (dispelling any hopes that they would divert public anger)) and relationships with the watching police very civil.

We also saw a very angry lady marching into the crowd of protesters, shouting and trying to steal placards and instruments, and generally acting like she wanted to fight everyone she encountered. The reaction to this was very interesting; everyone she tried to provoke was very calm, smiling, and simply told her to go away. If she was one of the agent provocateurs, used by the police to provide a catalyst for violence, the provocation was unsuccessful. Then again, she could easily have simply been an avid supporter of the cuts and all of the opportunities they will bring.

Pego Carnival

The people of Valencia region are internationally known for their passion for explosives, loud noises and parties which wouldn't be parties unless things were getting incinerated. The biggest of these is Las Fallas which is in March, but in February some towns also have a carnival, held on or around the day known in some countries as Mardi Gras and in England as pancake day. We participated in one in Pego, which is generally a small, quiet town. Not on carnival day though….

The carnival began around midnight, with a parade of floats, blaring different kinds of pop music, which competed with the booming drums of the various samba bands, who tirelessly kept the beat of the parade. 

Not knowing what to expect, we had turned up in brightly coloured clothes to celebrate the carnival. However we clearly stood out as everyone else was wearing black - most people in smart suits with snazzy hats, many men in drag, and the majority wearing some kind of make-up to make them look like dead people or ghosts.  

We think the reason for the sombre costumes is because the carnival was to celebrate the end of festivities and the beginning of lent, and so everyone was in mourning for this. The name of the carnival is "the burying of the sardine" - the sardine representing the festivities. The floats were all decorated with sardines and there were a few sardine coffins on the parade too.

So far, so good - but where were the explosives? Well, a lot of people in the crowd had giant sparking flares which were lit regularly and waved over everyone's heads or feet. However, we were to realise that these were merely decorations; there was more to come. 

The parade ended in a main square in the centre of town; where a bonfire was lit on the ground (which had been previously covered with sand). The carnivalers then proceeded with the symbolic ritual of the carnival: they buried the sardines, by throwing them onto the bonfire. Most of the sardines were made with tin foil and so they burned in quite a spectacular way. 

It seemed to be irresistible to some to jump over the fire as the sardines were being buried in it.  Or generally have their moment of glory in the flames.

After this began another parade - smaller but stranger. Some fireworks which were attached to a wire strung across the street were set off - spinning and wheeling over our heads. Then we were led, along with about half the people from the previous parade, down a side street strung with more fireworks. Who was leading us? Well, the firework people, of course -   dressed in flameproof suits and with the heads of grotesque and terrible demons. 

These firework people were scattered throughout the crowd and every few seconds they would attach a firework to the big sticks which they wielded, and wave in over everyone's heads. This was the cue for everyone to duck down and start a crouching dance, while shouting what sounded like "corre - foc! corre - foc!"There were so many firework people, and so evenly dispersed, that it was impossible to just walk along watching this spectacle. If you tried to get away from one firework which was revolving over your head, another would loom up next to you, or behind you, and there was nothing to do but get down.

The firework walk twisted and turned down what seemed like a maze of side streets - but this could have been simply because the smoke was so thick that we could barely see where we were. Finally we ended up back in the main square - still with different floats blaring different music, and the blazing bonfire, full of sardines. This was an oasis of tranquility compared to the intensity of the firework walk. 

Clearly, not everyone from the carnival had joined us on our journey with the firework people as even some Valencians have a limit to how much explosives they can handle. However, everyone got to experience the final firework display - which somehow managed to be even louder than the soundsystems, the samba drums and the constant fizz and crackle of the fireworks wielded by the firework people. 

A truly amazing experience - and one which has helped to prepare us in some ways for what will certainly be the full-blown firework madness of Las Fallas. We know that we will definitely need earplugs…

Independence

As with anytime that you move somewhere new, we have been trying to get to know the nearby area and get involved with the kind of things that we are interested in.  We have become familiar with the kind of language schools around our area as we have been trying to get teaching jobs, but these schools often follow a strict curriculum, or have an emphasis on "English for business".  We also have a strong interest in any projects related to holistic agriculture, environmental protection or similar activities, but we've found little of this going on in the area.

It is becoming more and more clear to us that if we are to get involved in the things which we are interested in we have to pursue them more independently as well. With teaching, we have advertised our independent services through the local village council, and so now instead of being hired in a school with a boss and taxable salaries, we have the possibility of working creatively and on our own terms. It may not work out, but it will all be a part of the learning experience; so next time we can do it better. 

Our desire to be putting our permaculture-related skills in practice may also realise itself in a similar way. While of course we are not averse to getting involved with existing projects, in the immediate vicinity there do not seem to be any. However, what the area does have is acres and acres of abandoned land.  The tourist boom stopped, the economy is in crisis, and most buyers want Moroccan oranges now because they are cheaper than Spanish ones. And what has been left is a lot of potential. We don’t know the best way to utilise this potential yet, but the first step has already been taken. We are here, and we have ideas...

Horse Profile

Shibalba

A true princess; beautiful, always throwing tantrums and demanding the things she feels entitled to.  Shibalba is often to be found biting other horses and charging around after her sister, Serafin.  

Muchacha

Duchess of the horses, this lady is old (27) but still full of energy.  She is also massive!  We've both ridden her and she is good as gold, but she does get bullied by some of the other, younger horses.

Acuario

Often to be found chewing the walls and nearby humans or rubbing his neck on whatever he can find.  Although he looks goofy, he is still clever.  Much comedy surrounds him and he can fart for about 15 seconds solidly.

Rosi

A thoroughbred haflinger, Rosi is a beautiful horse.  She has had at least 8 children and is not the most energetic horse now, but has a regal manner which demands respect.  Both Shibalba and Serafin are her daughters.

Serafin

Daughter of Acuario and Rosi, Serafin is the detective of the group, always looking for mysteries to solve.  Like trying to get into the food store or out of the paddock.  In our time here she has succeeded at least once in each mission.

Learning from horses

We have been working with animals almost every day now for about a month and a half, and have been trying to learn exactly what kind of behaviour is most effective towards building relationships with them. 

Horses can sense more than just fear.  Even if you are just a little uncertain about your intentions, they will either take advantage of this or respond with uncertainty themselves. The horse isn't just being ‘naughty’ and not doing what you ask of it, but is feeling insecure, and its actions reflect its confusion. 

On the other hand, we have found that the horses' insecurity can be useful, if risky. Twice a day we have to stop Shibalba from bullying, biting and taking food from Muchacha (who is lower down in the horse-hierarchy).  This is generally impossible most of the time, but at feeding time she must allow Muchacha to eat.  

One rainy day this suddenly became much easier; Shibalba did not know what the strangely flapping new bat-like creature coming towards her could possibly be (actually, it was Dave in a poncho), and kept her distance. However, flapping at an insecure horse is not really recommended; her insecurity could very easily have resulted in the ‘creature’ getting a kick. 

On the whole we have found that the calmer and more certain you are towards the horses the calmer and more responsive they are. Whilst interacting with people and horses is certainly different, many lessons can be applied with fellow humans.

Climbing

We're now living near the village of El Verger, in Valencia Province, in an area of flat country, surrounded, at a distance, by mountains and the deep blue of the boundless sea.  The incredible sense of
space from being able to see for miles all around is accentuated by the sudden upward thrust of the encircling ranges, both calming and exhilarating at the same time, filling us with positivity.  And of course there is the adventure of the mountains themselves. 

    On the 1st of January we had a go at La Sierra Segaria, a jagged outcrop running East from inland, towards the Sea, then dropping to the plain just beyond the village.  The word"sierra" translates literally as "saw" and is an apt title for the sharp spine of rock. 

Such a climb cannot be accomplished quickly - especially if, like us, you have a tendency to stray from the path.  In many places we had to choose each hand and foothold carefully (you must be sure!) while not thinking too much about the hair-raising drop beside us - the thought of which zaps one with fear like the onset of some kind of powerful drug.

There's no problem, as long as you don't panic and allow fear to smother your thoughts.  It's not a secure feeling but it is possible - really, necessary - to relax.  It seems important to feel the fear there, in your mind, but not to let it overpower you; to master it.  Surely it's more fun than being totally without fear.  A good dose of adrenaline is probably healthy and certainly makes you feel alive!  Why else do people love roller-coasters?

We had no choice
but to come to terms
with all this while
halfway up a huge,
rugged ridge.

We are trying to take this acceptance of fear and insecurity with us into the rest of our lives.  They are a part of being alive and we must embrace them in order to grow.  If everything was totally certain then there could never be anything new.

Despite the feeling of insecurity we relaxed, perched on a rocky outcrop, and had a picnic in the sky.

"Don't call it uncertainty - call it wonder

  Don't call it insecurity - call it freedom"

       - Osho (The Joy of Living Dangerously)

"Fear and mortal terror are your friends, if not they are enemies to be feared."

       - Marlon Brando as Colonel Kurtz (Apocalypse Now)

"Don't Panic"

       - Douglas Adams (The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy)

Why are we here?

We wanted to live somewhere completely different from Britain, where we grew up. To us it is important to immerse ourselves in another culture and surround ourselves with another language. Our ideas of what we want to do with our lives are uncertain (like most people) but we are travellers, and feel that this embracing of change helps us to learn. We do not want to be tied to one place - especially by work - which is why we develop our skills in universally applicable roles. 

Our yearning to head West to the Americas in the near future is a key reason why we have ended up here on the Mediterranean coast; where, when the time comes, we can flag down a passing boat and hitch a watery ride.

Javea Marina

We also arranged our destination according to available Helpx positions - which happened to land us here in between Valencia and Alicante provinces - a land so thickly populated by English and German speaking people that it is difficult to gauge yet how much actual Spanish culture remains.  It is an all too common experience for us to feel the opposite of culture shock - an imposition of English culture in a foreign land.  

But here we are, and here, too are the mountains, the cacti and the jasmine flowers; the traditional baked Spanish delights and the ever-changing colours of the sky. Despite the English pubs and English-language pop music which is as painfully mindless as it is in Britain, it's still an exciting change for us.

Who knows where our journey will take us..?