My thoughts on Referendum Day in Catalonia

[versió en català d'aqui un parell de dies] For better or for worse, it’s taken me weeks to write this down – how I lived the Catalan referendum on Sunday, the first of October. [Background info: after several years and numerous official attempts to get Spain to agree to a referendum (as desired by 80% of Catalans), Catalonia finally passed a law in its own parliament allowing for an independence referendum on 1 Oct, and Spanish courts ‘suspended’ it, claiming it was unconstitutional. As Catalans prepared to vote, Spanish police spent weeks searching for the ballot boxes or voting slips, censuring referendum publicity and websites, raiding Catalan govt buildings, arresting govt officials, and shipping in thousands of Spanish National Police and Guardia Civil ready to move into action on referendum day. Judges ordered the Catalan police to stop the vote by not allowing polling stations to open. In a very sensible and logical move, Catalan police said they’d do that only if it didn’t involve creating greater problems such as having to use physical force on crowds of citizens. Many people camped out in polling stations on the Friday and Saturday before the vote to ensure police couldn’t close them. The Catalan police said they’d come to seal them off at 6 a.m. on Sunday morning. So, many of us who hadn’t camped out decided to go there before 6...]

After going to bed at 1.a.m, mind awhirl with news reports coming in from around Catalonia of what was happening at different polling stations, the alarm went off at 4.30 a.m on Sunday. Shower, and computer and phone back on to get a quick update via the tweets of tens of thousands of Catalans active on social networks. We made two flasks of coffee and a few sandwiches and left the house in darkness and silence (leaving the kids in bed). My wife and myself got to our polling station around 5.15 and there were already about 30 people there. Within minutes someone had turned up and unlocked the building and we were in! Big sigh of relief that we’d got it open and were in before police officially sealed it off. Someone then came in with two giant flasks of coffee and a box of buns and croissants. Those in charge of organizing and watching over the vote then stayed in the building – those chosen to be electoral officers and volunteer observers (including my wife as a member of the cultural association Omnium). The rest of us went outside to crowd around the door to prevent police from entering if/when they turned up. We relaxed then, a few of us had brought picnic chairs, some brought chairs out of the building and we all started chatting nervously about what the day would hold. Two of our ex-students, now both great musicians-composers, were there with their parents, also great friends of ours (Manel, a retired literature teacher and poet, and Cinta, an artist/sculptor and teacher of art) so we had a grand time with them. Then (my memory of the exact times is vague, but probably around 6ish) a van screeched to a halt outside and someone pulled a black bag out of the back and ran into the polling station. The ballot boxes had arrived! Big moment as Spanish security forces had been searching for them for months, and the Spanish government had even claimed they didn’t exist. As the people inside started to set up the tables and lay out voting slips, our optimism rose outside as it was confirmed that the Catalan government hadn’t been bluffing when they’d promised they could organize this despite having the weight of the Spanish police and judicial system against them. 

Around 7ish a Catalan police car turned up, so we all packed together around the door. About 50 of us. Two Catalan policemen got out and came up to us. “Who’s in charge here?”. “We all are”. “What are you doing?” At this point, Manel moved to the front of the crowd and said “We’re going to hold a poetry recital. We’re going to read poems by local authors all day. Starting with this one by Gerard Verges” This poet was probably the greatest poet to come from Tortosa, and one of the greats in Catalonia – and also the author of the best translation into Catalan of Shakespeare. He passed away two years ago. And his son was in the building, as an electoral officer. So when our friend then started reciting Verges by heart in his magnificent voice, there on the doorstep of the polling station, at 7am on Sunday morning, to the astonishment of the police officers, more than a few tears were shed. And we realized, if we hadn’t already, that this was going to be a special day.

One of the policemen then told us that it was his duty to inform us that any activities linked to the referendum were illegal and that they’d be watching us. They then walked about 20 yards away and stood on the other side of the road.

We eventually relaxed and stopped huddling around the door en masse, spreading out down the steps outside the building and along the pavement and started chatting again, everyone with one eye or ear on their phones to follow social networks or listen to the radio. Then the mayor and our local MP came to check everything was OK before moving on to another station. Some time just after 8, we had another boost to our confidence. The Catalan government announced that the vote would be run under what they call a “universal census” – basically as you vote, they check your ID details, and tick you off electronically using a tablet with internet, which means you can vote at any polling station. This was major news as it meant that even if the police managed to close down stations, if you could get to another one, you could still vote. Also yet one more confirmation we were running rings round the Spanish government who had no idea that this system would be running. Obviously during the day, Madrid got its IT experts into action and they managed to bring the system down several times, but each time we got it running again. A cyberwar, as they say.

Next big moment, 9 a.m., when doors opened. By this time there were around a hundred of us outside. We decided to go in about 6 at a time to vote to ensure there would always be a large group outside in case more police came. People started to queue to go in, while others just milled around commenting on news coming in from other stations and tweeting about what was happening at ours. We also discussed the importance of voting and then staying at the station - most of us had made plans to stay there all day until the station closed and votes were counted. What would the Catalan police do? Would they do as we believed and not use physical force to close down the stations? Would the Spanish National Police or the militarized Guardia Civil turn up? These conversations went on all morning. Some of the voters more experienced in civil obedience were explaining how to sit down, arms linked, not offering resistance etc, while others were talking about going inside the station, locking the doors and barricading ourselves inside. All very theoretical... until tweets started arriving before 9.30 announcing violent interventions of Spanish police forces at different polling stations. Photos and videos of people being beaten with truncheons, and dragged out of polling stations in Barcelona and the north of Catalonia. One particularly shocking photo of an elderly lady with blood streaming down her face. In a state of shock, I realized this was going to be much worse than I’d imagined.

What did I think would happen? That Spanish police would line up outside polling stations, intimidating voters and allowing the Spanish government to claim the vote was ‘illegal’ and chaotic and thus ignore it, as they’d ignored 2014’s public consultation. I knew there were literally thousands of Spanish riot police brought in from other areas of Spain – often to a patriotic send-off in their home town, flag-waving, cries of “Go get them” etc – but assumed it could all be just for show. About 10 minutes later, however, people in the crowd at our station started to say “Guardia Civil have attacked the station in La Ràpita” and minutes later videos were circulating on Twitter. La Ràpita is a small peaceful fishing town in the south of Catalonia, many miles away from the capital – one of those towns you thought the police would ignore as their objective must surely be to create chaos amongst the millions of voters in Barcelona, not down here. I was wrong. The video shows about 20 police vans, maybe 100 officers in riot gear beating people, throwing them out of the way, smashing their way through the doors to get at the ballot boxes. And all the while, those waiting to vote simply stand there with their hands held in the air, until they’re beaten into submission and try to get out of the way. People I know, youngsters, elderly people, people I’ve marched alongside on our “Save the river Ebro” rallies, a friend of mine who’s a journalist covering the event, all beaten and forced out of the way. Images of people in shock, blood everywhere, no one can believe they would do this. It really brought it all home to us.

I suppose psychologically we reverted to a self-defence mechanism and all started to huddle together around the door once more, eyes and ears open. One of the only things I believed I could do, as a Brit, and a good English-speaker, was to do my bit to try and get the message out to whoever wants to listen. On my Twitter account I had followed the 30 or so international observers (many MEPs) who had come, as well as many international journalists whom I knew were covering the day. So, like many others I know, I spent most of the next couple of hours retweeting news stories, photos, videos to them, translating key headines into English (on top of all the dozens of letters and emails I’d sent before the vote, and afterwards). The collective powers of Catalan citizens together with the presence of these people here on the ground was essential to get the news out to international media (and the TV sets of European leaders) as soon as possible. We must be grateful for this; I think it’s only because the news was spread so quickly that things didn’t get any worse than they did (which was horrific anyway, as you’ll see).

More news in; police raided and smashed up the polling stations where the Catalan President and the Speaker of Parliament were due to vote. The President switched cars under a bridge to fool the police helicopter following him and managed to make it to another station to vote before the police came to that one too. The education minister was pushed and shoved by police as she tried to vote. Convoys of police vans were going from station to station doing their worst. Catalan police refused to use violence, and only closed down stations ‘unprotected’ (in some towns, given the “universal census”, the organizers chose to abandon some stations and concentrate the ballot boxes and citizens at just one to make it easier to protect, leaving the other stations ‘unprotected’). But, as feared by many, the Spanish police and Guardia Civil just did their worst. Full riot gear, batons, rubber bullets, tear gas, you name it - all to try and prevent a vote from happening. If it was illegal, (a) surely it’s the organizers who committed the crime, not the voters; and (b) police should respond to a “crime” with a proportionate response. Voting doesn’t deserve a beating.

Next excitement, a van full of Catalan police turn up. They didn’t look so friendly as the first two, who were still there, and judging by their uniforms these were from the Catalan riot police department but not wearing the full gear. They milled about on the other side of the road and stared at us. Then another van. And another. Eventually there were about 20 or so police agents and they formed a line and crossed the road towards us, eventually stopping 2 yards in front of us. This aggressive staring, and telling people not to take photos didn’t bode well. One of them got instructions over the radio, and with a couple more he tried to come up the steps but the people didn’t move. The police finally stepped back. As you can imagine our adrenaline had shot through the roof. I have been on many protest marches but never felt the fear of police violence before. I was shaking and looking around me and, as I’ve said, we were a mixed bunch. There were people in their 80s in the crowd, people who’d waited all their lives (half of it under a dictatorship) for this moment, but luckily no babies or small kids at this moment – earlier on people had come to vote with babies in pushchairs as you do if you think voting is a normal activity. Eventually the police backed off and went back to their vans. About 20 minutes later they drove away. Later we heard they did manage to close a station in another part of Tortosa. A polling station at the end of a narrow cul-de-sac, the police formed a line and prevented anyone else from entering, and prevented those inside from leaving. The only ‘funny’ story is that a few hours later, some police officers needed to ‘relieve themselves’ so the people inside (where the toilets are) were able to negotiate a truce and either leave the building or have food brought in!

La Rapita is about half an hour from Tortosa, so the big question on our minds was ‘where are the Guardia Civil? Are they coming for us too?’ About an hour later, we knew where they were .- in the next town to us, Roquetes. Same tactics, about a hundred came, beat people, smashed windows and doors and took away a ballot box (only one because the people inside had hidden the others and so they were able to continue voting afterwards!). As the police retreated to their vans, with weapons in their hands, the images of about 500 local citizens walking after them chanting for them to leave still brings tears to my eyes now every time I see it. The definition of dignity.

Tortosa next? Rumours fly. ‘They’re in Tortosa, they’re at this station, that one’ Quick, everyone at the door. Hide the boxes, take the lists of people who’ve voted and their ID numbers and hide them. The Mayor came back, telling us to keep calm, keep voting, we have nothing to fear, if they come to prevent us voting this is the picture the world will see, a state which uses  force on its own citizens for voicing their opinion peacefully. The rumours were just that, rumours. They didn’t come to Tortosa.

At one point a fire engine drove past very slowly to loud cheers. Catalan firefighters had promised to come, off-duty, whenever/wherever they could to defend citizens against police violence. It wasn’t necessary in Tortosa but in many towns the photos of firefighters forming a human barricade between riot police and peaceful voters still bring me out in goose pimples.

A bit later, another Tortosa poet came. He must be in his 90s and was wheeled in in his wheelchair by his son. Voted and left the building to another round of applause.

Then I had my sandwich and some coffee and went in the building to be with my wife, Silvia, a while. They’d been very busy inside too. Trying to keep the electronic voting system up and running correctly was hell. Police had even closed down internet in some polling stations. Apart from that, and the nerves, the vote was going well, plenty of participation and people – despite the violence – were still turning up happy to finally be able to vote.

Given the rumours, I phoned my sister-in-law and advised her not to bring her two little kids when she came to vote. Also messaged our kids, and my parents back in the UK who might have been seeing nasty scenes on TV, to say we were OK so far. Back on Twitter, we saw that the international media were really on the ball giving very clear coverage of what was happening. Even some of the international observers had posted their own footage of police violence that they’d seen in person. More chatting, more translating of news to tweet to anyone listening. About two-ish the rate of voting slowed down, and rumours of police moving about locally died down – although we could see that police were in action all around the country. So, time for a sit down inside the building, a sandwich and a drink with Silvia and some friends. Another ex-student of ours was in tears, of emotion and anger, which of course set us all off again. We started to check out videos and photos of what had happened as Silvia hadn’t really had time to see them yet. Horrendous. After our lunch break, when we saw there were enough people around to block any attempts by police to enter (the two original policemen keep coming back and asking if we’d let them in), Silvia and myself decided to go and visit a couple more polling stations in town. We’d just got to another one, where we met Silvia’s nephews and nieces amongst a crowd of about 200, when we got word that the Guardia Civil had finished having lunch in nearby town, Amposta, and were getting back in their vans. It turned out that, since the Roquetes incident, ‘we’ had had someone following them in a car to report on their movements! So, back to our station. More discussions – what to do, obstruct them, move out of the way, lock the doors, is it worth a beating, hide the votes... and eventually another message told us they had driven straight past Tortosa and continued upriver. Another sigh of relief and we decided to visit another polling station. At this one the voters had prepared a bucketful of carnations to give to the riot police if they came. We had a chat with friends there, no one could believe how violent the police have been, but everyone was determined to see this through to the end.

Then back to our station and more and more people coming in to vote. The afternoon/evening passed quickly, with more or less the same events as the morning –horrific images coming in from different towns, rumours, messages about the location of the police vans and so on. Our two police officers went off duty and were replaced by two more at 18.00, so we had to do the same “Can we come in?” business again. About 19.00 we hear the Guardia Civil had raided a couple of towns upriver and were driving back down. The Catalan police closed down entry to another station in Tortosa, but didn’t confiscate the ballot boxes so those inside started counting. Some other stations in Tortosa decided to close now and start counting rather than risk staying open to the offical closing time of 20.00, and risk being raided at the last minute. We decided to chance it, in the hope that we could always hide one of our boxes before the police managed to open the door if they came. Seeing in person all these decisions and efforts to ensure the vote was as well-organized and correct as possible under the conditions (threats, cyber attacks, police violence) just make me even angrier when I hear Spanish politicians saying the vote was fixed. They have literally no idea what happened, and what happens when a people really believe in democracy and their chance to have a say on their own future.

Just before we closed at 20.00, I had to go and pick up our kids who’d been for lunch and spent the afternoon at their grandmother’s house. We called off at McDonald’s for obvious reasons, then I left them at home to fend for themselves, while I went back into town. When I arrived the door was locked, as it should be, while the count went on. Many of us still ‘stood guard’ at the door just in case, until eventually around 21.30 the door opened and the results of our station were announced to a round of applause, sighs of relief, and a few more tears. All that was left was to tidy up, send the results electronically, and head home to see the final nationwide results. The two Catalan policemen politely asked us if we had finished and we said yes, and they also left.

What did I vote? I didn’t. As I am not a ‘Spanish citizen’, I couldn’t vote, but simply went along to help out as I believe in democracy and listening to citizens.

Results: 2,286,217 votes were counted (43% of census) i.e. over 2 million people risked a police beating to vote

2,044,038 Yes (89.4%)

177,547 No (7.8%)

64,000 void/null/blank votes

Also around 770,000 potential voters either couldn’t vote or had votes confiscated after their polling stations were raided or closed down (which would have pushed turnout over 50% mark, not bad considering Spain declared it illegal and many No voters stayed home). 
Over 900 people needed medical attention as a result of the police violence.

My conclusions; 1. Still amazes me that so many people, of all ages, shapes, and sizes, believed in this vote which the Spanish government had tried so hard to stop – that they believed in it and managed to pull it off. The logistics of the months leading up to the vote, what happened on the day, and the mere act of going to vote after you’ve just seen TV scenes of people being battered, thrown down stairs, dragged out by their hair. Whatever happens now regarding the political and legal situation here, the Catalan people have earned the legitimate right to go ahead and declare independence. It doesn't matter to me whether this vote was legal or constitutional or not. Laws and constitutions are meant to be tools for citizens, not strait jackets, and it's clear there is/was a huge demand here by millions of citizens to simply have a say on their future. Governments should acknowledge this and work towards a political solution.

2. The police violence was planned and deliberate. They knew the ‘crime’ being committed, and the kinds of ‘criminals’ they would find, and what we’d do, and they went ahead with a completely over-the-top disproportionate response nationwide. The tactic of driving from town to town, apparently at random was also planned so as to instill us with a sense of fear. I have seen (on TV) extremely violent police actions in Europe before but never in this context. These weren’t ‘clashes between protestors and police’ as some claimed. No one was ‘clashing’ and no one was protesting. This violence was carried out by thousands of police basically attacking innocent people peacefully waiting to vote on a nationwide scale.

3. Spain considers Catalonia to be a colony they must control and subdue. Attitudes from all mainstream political parties, the media, the judicial system, all indicate that they don’t worry about having an attractive proposition to convince Catalonia to stay, but that they focus on insults, disdain, threats, repression, violence, to ‘make’ Catalans stay in Spain. The photos of Spanish police setting off for Catalonia whilst waving flags and playing the Spanish anthem have no place in democratic policing.

4. However much they deny it, Franco’s ghost is still in the room. The arrogant inflexible attitudes showed by all these parties, and the Spanish Establishment in general, as well as their policing methods, and subsequent denial of having used violence (really) all confirm that Francoist attitudes still run deep. Many members of the Spanish political and judicial establishment have direct links to Francoism, and many others seem to have learnt that this is how to behave. Forget dialogue, negotiations, listening to citizens, the role of the Spanish State is to control its citizens apparently.

BBC
La Rapita Roquetes

Should I stay or should I go? That is the question

[Catalan version below]

As I was saying... no, seriously, it's been over two years since I last wrote on here and I'm not really sure whether to start it up again or not. What happened? Well, with my health issues I wrote about in the previous post, I was expecting to spend some time feeling sorry for myself and then just mosey along as usual. Which I did for a while, even going to the Big City to pay a private consultant to more or less tell me what I already knew. Basically, stop worrying (I haven't), and wear compression stockings every day come rain or shine (I do). Then the you-know-what hit the fan as my wife was diagnosed with an extremely aggressive slipped disc, which needed an immediate operation or run the risk of not walking again. The first operation wasn't 100% successful so a second one was carried out. All in all, she ended up spending about 2 months in hospital - just coming out for a while at Christmas 2015. Then the recovery time. All this coincided with the start of some major building work at our house which dragged on until summer 2016. With my going up and down to the hospital all the time, and the builders ripping the house apart, we had to spend a few months living down at my mother-in-law's house.

When we did eventually get back to normal, about a year ago now, we got back into our routines but I never really felt like starting the blog again. I mean I did, as in I kept taking notes on ideas to write about, but the energy and willpower weren't there. With everything going on in our lives, and that had happened, other things changed too. Nothing is the same as before. Plus, of course, the danger of internet is that there are so many other distractions available that I've been easily able to waste my time in other places than here. 

Anyway, not sure if I'll continue this for much longer. I'd like to but I need to "want to" too. For now, I've written this as a kind of explanation-excuse-hello-goodbye post, and also as I'm thinking of doing one or two posts to put something on here I've been writing about the Catalan issue.

...

Així que, com us deia... bé, com us deia fa 2 anys! Per que he desapergut 2 anys del blog? Continuarà ara? Fa 2 anys, escrivia que tenia problemes de salut amb la meva cama, però despres a la tardor del 2015 les coses van prendre un gir a pitjor - a la meva dona li van diagnosticar una hernia discal molt aggressiva que calia operar immediatament. Després d'unes complicacions, una segona operació i les coses es van allargar. Vam passar gairebé 2 mesos a l'hospital en total, amb un 'descans' al mig per passar nadal a casa. Quan per fi vam començar la fase de recuperació a casa, va coincidir amb l'estress d'unes obres que feiem a casa. I aixi va anar passant el temps. Feina, familia, els problemes de cada dia. A més, les ganes i prioritats son diferents ara despres de tants moments dificils. Les coses canvien. I, referent al blog, no he tornat a trobar la energia ni les ganes d'escriure fins ara. Ara, tampoc sé si continuaré. Torno perque vull penjar una cosa que estic escrivint sobre el referendum però no sé si despres el blog tindrà continuitat o si aquest epoca de la meva vida s'ha acabat. Ja veurem.

August

And then after July came August as usual. August started well - exceptionally well in fact; the very first day we had our annual Big Day Out on the beach. We "camp out" all day once a year on one of the huge deserted beaches on the arms of the Ebro Delta, with a fantastic knee-deep bay of water on one side of the beach, and  the wilder sea of the open Mediterranean on the other. See satellite photo below. Cousins, grannies, uncles, friends, we all hit the beach with cars loaded up with sun shades (essential), kites, buckets and spades, canoes, picnics, drinks... and spend the full day there till dusk. A great time was had by all.

Two days later I flew to England with our oldest son (12 today) to drop him off at my parents' in South Yorkshire for a week's break from us and a chance to practise his English. And then I flew back to Catalonia. The rest of us spent another week here, finishing off translation work and coping with the heatwave before joining Andreu in England for a 3-week holiday.

However the day before we flew I felt a sharp pain in my leg which brought back unhappy memories of my DVT 2 years ago and so went to the hospital to have it checked. I was given the all-clear, and a couple of blood-thinning injections "just in case" and told to fly.

For our first week in England we'd decided to go to the Lake District and a grand time was had by all - lake cruises, treks up and down hills, bathing in tarns and lakes, eating Grasmere gingerbread, visiting the Pencil Museum and so on. See photos.

However, again, by mid-week that pain was starting to come back. I managed to finish the week in the Lakes but as soon as we got back to my parents' we went to Barnsley Hospital A&E to check it wasn't a DVT again.... and it wasn't, it was a SVT! I'll explain: instead of a potentially life-threatening deep vein thrombosis which could mean the clot moving into the delicate parts of your body, it was (is) a "superificial vein thrombosis" or "thrombophlebitis" which is nowhere near as bad ... unless it develops into a DVT if the clots start to move from one vein system to another... which shouldn't happen but.... lots of should/might/but/not usually vocabulary used by the doctors who gave me a very thorough looking over in the hospital (long live the NHS!) meant that I spent the next 2 weeks scared out of my brains once again. They were right, though, so far: the pain was intense and unbearable for a few days but has gradually faded, and is now just annoying. They say in 7-14 days more I should be OK again as the SVT is just running its course. It all meant I did hardly anything for the other 2 weeks in England but I did manage to check out a new second-hand record shop in Elsecar, The Vinyl Tap! With a few more blood-thinning injections "just in case" we flew back to Catalonia on 31 August and now the next step is seeing more doctors to see why this has happened and if there's anything I can do about it - and, looking at my history repeating itself, whether these incidents are related to flying.

I am still resting up at home now but hope to get into school for some preparation this week, and aim to be 100% for working when classes start on the 14th. Our kids also go back to school that day, with our son moving up to the Big Boys' School - i.e. secondary school. Time flies.

July

After a relatively blog-free period, you'll all be wondering "What did Brian do this summer?". Well...here's July.

As you may or may not know, the school year comes to an end here by Saint John's Eve (23 June) and from then on we had the kids at home allowing us the chance for lots of arguing playing with them. My work situation also changes then as the "normal course" comes to an end and we start our intensive "summer course" for anyone who wants a short sharp introduction to English. What happens, though, is that this course is only in the mornings so I'm free by 14.00 every day, and when we've hidden at home through the hottest part of the day (temperatures reached 38º this summer) around 17.00-ish we can do things with the kids. A couple of days cycling, a few at the beach (a 25-minute drive away), and many afternoons with the kids "socializing" - having friends round, or going to friends. Our daughter also went away for a week-long summer camp at a nearby village.

We also managed to check out a couple of late-night concerts in the annual jazz festival and had a great time at the Renaissance Festival (check out previous years' July blogposts to see what I'm talking about). And we saw an amazing concert by the renowned great Catalan celloist Jordi Savall. Using a 500-year old instrument, he and his small group took us on an amazing musical tour within the amazing setting of Tortosa cathedral. Examples to follow...

All in all, a busy month but providing enough change to our normal routines to be considered "a rest" (you know the saying). A well-deserved and much-needed rest after a very busy, and stressful year, with loads of work and other issues to worry about - which I won't go into here, except the fact that our kids seem to be becoming teenagers 2 or 3 years before the predicted time :)

The #soapbox proposal for Catalonia - English language version

Today’s post is an English-language explanation/version of my previous one. As that was tailored for my Catalan readers, this will be slightly different – with more background information but less specific details. Here goes...

I’m assuming we’re all up to date on the Catalan independence drive? Check here if not. OK? On 9 November 2014, Catalonia held a “vote” in its independence. The Spanish government banned them from holding an official binding referendum, so the Catalans decided to hold a non-binding simple public consultation – which the Spanish government also decided was anti-constitutional! Over 2 million people voted, the Catalan president then had legal action started against him, and we’re still at the same point – the one where it’s blindingly obvious that Catalans want to decide their own future in some kind of vote and they won’t give up till they do so!

Hence, the Catalan President has promised to call Catalan parliamentary elections for 27 September 2015 in the hope that these results will be a de facto referendum, giving the pro-independence parties a clear democratic mandate to go ahead with an independence declaration independently (excuse the pun) of what the Spanish government says.

Between the Scottish referendum being announced and finally carried out in Scotland, though, the Scottish people enjoyed an 18-month peaceful period of campaigning where everyone was able to hear, and question, all the arguments in favour and against independence. This is not the case here. So much energy and time has been invested in just getting to where we are – being able to have a vote – or defending and justifying this right - that it seems to many of us that the actual Yes/No campaign has hardly started. Of course, those of us with a keen interest follow every snippet of news, every article, every public meeting, speech, tweet, that we see and have plenty of information – but there is a huge segment of the population who don’t. How are we going to inform these people about what this vote means – within the 60 days left – and answer their doubts?

I don’t think the usual televised debates or local meetings held by pro/anti “experts” will be seen by many people other than those who already know what they want to vote. My proposal is to get out the old soapbox. The well-known people involved in the indy campaign, whether they be politicians, members of the pro-indy non-partisan bodies, celebrities and other experts, must hit the streets – and now. Imagine three of them, one each from a different party or group showing they are all in this together, standing on a soapbox outside the local market making a brief (2 minute) speech and, above all, answering people’s questions. They may get insulted, but they will also get a chance to allay the fears of the typical “What about the pensions?” potential voter. Get a bus (or more), move the indy folk around from town to town – three towns a day, three soapbox meetings per town in different public squares, and so on. This would really get the message across to those who at current are undecided or apprehensive about the consequences of the September election.

Catalans, hem d'agafar el #soapbox ja! #araéslhora

Falten 64 dies per a les eleccions catalanes, unes eleccions on decidirem si marxem d’Espanya o si l’estat espanyol ens passi la maquina piconadora i s’acabi amb els pocs poders i drets que ara tenim – i m’és igual qui guanyi a les eleccions espanyoles ja que sabem que tots volen anar per aquest camí d’una manera o d’una altra. L’època happy flowers amb respecte des de Madrid per les autonomies o diferències socials i culturals s’ha acabat. No es pot quedar amb lo que tenim ara. No és una opció - ara o sobrevivim com a país o entrarem a formar part de l'Espanya unificada.

Les eleccions catalanes són crucials i úniques – a canvi de conviure uns mesos en un país amb un govern estrany “de tots els colors”, podem guanyar la llibertat; si no, podem perdre les esperances de la nostra i les properes generacions. Alguns diuen que no volen un país “de Mas” o “de dretes”, però si no pujem al tren de la independència tindrem un país de dretes igualment – Espanya. Anem a per totes, i d’aquí 2 anys cada u que triï el model de país que vol...

... el problema és que s’ha perdut molt de temps decidint com votar, si podem votar, a que o qui votarem, i defensant els nostres drets; i en aquest temps hem passat per alt allò que van poder fer a Escòcia – 18 mesos de debat tranquil, al carrer, a la tele, a la premsa, entre amics, per a que tothom tingui la màxima informació abans de votar. Aquí hi ha poca campanya, i els actes pro-independència que es fan no arriben als centenars de milers de catalans qui no llegeixen la premsa, no van a actes organitzats, miren més La Sexta que TV3 etc. Tinc la impressió que falta aquest pas – i tinc humilment una proposta en brut que es pot refinar si creieu que funcionaria.

Us imagineu si els actors principals en aquest moment – parlo de Mas, Junqueras, Fernandez, altres cares conegudes dels seus partits, Romeva, Llach, cares de l’ANC i Omnium, i d’altres entitats (ajuntaments, sindicats, associacions...) que volen la independència... us imagineu si aquesta gent anés pel carrer. Poble per poble a peu de carrer, fent petits discursos de minut i mig, però sobretot contestant les dubtes de la gent. Un pensionista que té por de perdre la pensió i mira els catalans de Podemos i Ciutadans que surten a La Sexta cada dissabte, no anirà mai a una xerrada de l’ANC o de Convergencia, però si es trobes amb algú que “coneix”, un Artur Mas, a la porta del mercat, igual li diu de tot, insults inclosos, però també li preguntaria, “Ei, que passa amb lo meu?”

Per això, ja n’hi ha prou de fer actes individuals de cada partit en llocs tancats com auditoris o pavellons, o simplement estar esperant la campanya de 15 dies al setembre. Cal agafar el soapbox. 

El soapbox més conegut és lo de Speaker’s Corner a Londres, on la gent es posa dalt d’una caixa de fusta (tradicionalment usades per transportar sabó) i es posa a parlar a qui li vulgui escoltar, però en el passat era una manera típica dels politics (al menys a Anglaterra) per arribar a la gent. Semblava que les teles i grans mítings havien acabat amb aquesta practica, però encara avui en dia alguns politics ho fan i amb aquesta cosa original, i sorprenent, poden arribar d’una manera directa a llocs o persones on normalment el seu missatge no arriba. Diuen que li va funcionar al John Major! 

Proposo que els “actors principals” del Sí (i els del No si volen, però ja és qüestió d’ells la seva campanya) vagin viatjant de poble en poble, en un autobús a l’estil campanya americana (aquí ja tenim un autobús a punt!) si volen – junts si és possible – i fent això. Us imagineu a Fernandez, Mas i Llach dalt de caixes de fusta davant del mercat central, després, al mig de la plaça principal, i per acabar al parc municipal, fent petits (molt curts) discursos i parlant amb la gent, i 2 hores més tard agafen l’autocar i van al poble del costat? Mentrestant, la Muriel, Junqueras, i Eduardo Reyes estan fent el mateix en una altra població. I Carme Forcadell, Germà Bel i Romeva formant un altre equip. Rull, Rovira, i Toni Soler un altre. Actors politics i no politics. I més i més... Cada grupet, 3 o 4 pobles per dia, 60 dies... podem fer tots els pobles de Catalunya! Suposo que cal (o no..!) buscar la forma d'evitar problemes amb la normativa sobre quan i on es poden fer campanyes així, però si posem imaginació tot és possible - no cal que demanen el vot, simplement estan explicant com seria un país indepedent, etc. Aqui tenim una proposta, ara seria questió dels experts de polir-la i posar-la en marxa!

Si anem a per totes, cal començar ja!

...

[Sorry, no time for English version of this post yet -next week hopefully. It is a very specifically "what Catalans should do" type post though!] 

Mallorca

Una nova aventura! La setmana passada vam aconseguir escapar-nos 4 dies a Mallorca per a visitar familia, concretament la germana de la meva dona, el seu parella, i el bebe que acaben de tenir. L'objectiu era precisament aixo, visitar la familia i descansar despres d'un trimestre una mica moguda. I aixi ho vam fer. Vam voltar molt per Palma, vam anar a la platja, vam jugar a Monopoli, i vam fer una visita rapida a Valldemossa.

També vaig aprendre que Menorca queda a l'est de Mallorca, i no pas a l'oest com sempre havia pensat, malgrat viure aqui 25 anys i haver visitat les dos illes. També vam poder confirmar que el tema de la llengua està malament a Mallorca, molta gent no xerra en mallorqui - però a nivell personal, poc a poc, gràcies al cunyat estic millorant la meva comprehensió del que diuen quan ho parlen!

Fotos i musica....

...

Brian's Big Break finally arrived - a well-deserved 4-day break in Mallorca (or Majorca). We now have family there - the missus' sister, her partner and their new-born kid - so we went to visit them and relax after a hard term (the school year finished here on the 19 June) before starting our "summer courses". So relax we did - 4 days of playing Monopoly, wandering round Palma, checking out the sights, the beach, and a quick visit to the place Chopin (apparently a pianist) described as being the most beautiful place in the world, Valldemossa. Obviously he'd never been to Yorkshire...

By the way, a little knowledge; Mallorca was re-conquered from the Moors by the Catalan king Jaume I donkeys' years ago and as such formed part of the Catalan/Aragon empire, and the language they speak is a kind of Catalan with a few changes, and a tricky accent! The Balearic isles now form an autonomous community within the state of Spain, as does Catalonia.

A few photos, followed up by another song by the best group from Mallorca.

More story-telling ... The Princess Bride

Mentre parlem de contes... l'altre dia vaig fer allò que fa tothom, comprar DVDs de pel·licules que em fascinaven de més jove, amb l'esperança que als nostres xiquets també els agradaran. Un dels quals era el Princess Bride, of course. Quina joia! Per casualitat fa només 2 mesos també vaig llegir el llibre, el qual és molt molt bo! I evidentment, qui pot oblidar la música?

I sí, als xiquets els ha encantat, ho han mirat 3 cops i juguen a dir "My name is Iñigo Montoya..."

..........

Speaking of stories... the other day I did what every middle-aged parent does: buy DVDs of films I loved as a youngster (or teenager), hoping our kids would also love them. One of the bunch is The Princess Bride, a hilarious but romantic fairy tale unlike anything I'd seen at that time. Obviously since then, this kind of gentle satire has been copied but The Princess Bride was one of the first to do this, I think, and has stood the test of time. By chance, I also say the book second-hand in Barcelona on our recent trip there and devoured it in no time. It's also great! And, who could forget the music? All in all, a triplet of great entertainment!

And yes, the kids do love it. They've seen it 3 times and now play at saying "My name is Iñigo Montoya..."

 

Tell us a story...

Quan no estem enfeinats salvant lo món, de vegades pensem en com guanyar-nos les garrofes i tirar endavant l'economia de la casa. Per exemple, usant l'internet per a promocionar l'activitat de Sílvia com a rondallaire amb contes en anglès.

... and when we're not saving the world or just prevaricating about the bush, we do actually try and keep the bread on the table. For example, using our cost-free (in financial terms) social networks to try and promote Sílvia's story-telling activities.
By the way, this activity isn't as easy as it looks, writing/adapting tales for the English level a typical 7-year-old Catalan child might understand, introducing key words and expressions you want them to practise, preparing the material, rehearsing....

Still busy .... #BandOnTheRun

As I was saying, still busy! I have a mental list (does that sound right?) of fascinating blog posts I'd like to write but can't seem to get my head around starting them..... 

...this week, we're coming up to the end of the school year. Work-wise that means more work preparing reports, helping kids get ready for their official Cambridge University English exams in June/July, organizing our "summer courses" (July), and organizing the 2015-16 course. Family-wise, it means our oldest son is about to finish primary/junior school and move up to the Big Kids' School in September. The year a kid has their 12th birthday is the year they step up to secondary education. Apart from fragile emotions (where did those 12 years go?!), this also means end-of-school festivals and parties, plus the beaurocracy of paperwork to register him at the new school.

On the "campaign" front, it's also been one of those weeks. Started out last Saturday with a Town Cycling morning out that I was involved in organizing. One of the objectives of the outing was to gather local cyclists' ideas so as to write an article for a local newspaper, and a letter to be sent to the council. Guess who had to write them? Plus, spreading the news about these activities on social networks...

On the "save the river Ebro" front, we have been invited to defend our position before the Petitions Committee of the European Parliament on the 22nd. I cannot go, for work reasons, but am involved in most of the coordination of the trip and lobbying over the internet, arranging private meetings beforehand, passing on information to MEPs and so on. Also had to translate an important document we want the Parliament to have as well as a more simple leaflet which we hope explains our situation clearly.

On the "Catalan independence" campaign, some of the things will remain unsaid here, but I did go to the local indy group's meeting to explain my proposal of inviting an "expert in internet activism" to Tortosa to set up a workshop on how to use our time on the net most efficiently for our objectives.

At the back of my mind, I also have to organize things for our 3-day break in Mallorca next weekend to visit the sister-in-law and our 4-month-old nephew.

For no reason other than the fact that I was amazed when a 16-year-old student told me yesterday that he went (with his folks) to France last week just to see Paul McCartney, here´s Band on the Run: