Children Should be Seen and Not Heard

When my dad said 'It's my way or the highway',

'Sit down and shut up'

'Children should be seen and not heard.'

When my teachers said 

the correct answer is X

and I wanted to discuss why.

And on and on until, 

I learnt to censor myself. 

And now, deeply, from deep down, like a rising from the earth,

I'm called to raise my voice

to join those who have been singing a chorus 

of injustice, of repression, of invalidation.

Now, the Catalan defence of the right to self determination 

has triggered an avalanche in my personal history. 

For all those times I held my tongue, I bit my tongue, 

choked back words, clenched my teeth, fought back tears

because

I did not speak up.

I did not speak up.

Me too.

Now, the pieces of the past are falling together

gathering to form a solid foundation 

under my feet, where 

standing my ground, where

my voice rising

becomes the final piece of the picture.

It marks the end of my childhood,

now at age 46,

when I once said 'it's someone else's problem'

'they' will fix it.

It's a beginning.

Where I rise my voice to join the  chorus

of all those before me, to speak out,

to speak up,

to speak.

And one voice does make a difference.

Because I know you can hear me. 

I know you are listening.

And one day, I will join other pieces 

of the puzzle of your life

and I will be there as one of many

who come before us,  

as you too rise and speak.

Speak for your heart

your justice,

for your need, your right, 

to be heard.

It's a beginning. 

Tiffany in Catalonia - 6th of October 2017

6^th of October 2017

I hit my wall today. I’ve been holding up pretty well, and suddenly today I feel like it's all a bit much and I’m not managing my personal health (mental, emotional and physical) very well. I’m in a coffee shop in Mataro beside the sea and I’ve just eaten what can only be described as comfort food.

So, I’m dedicating Fridays for research and writing and today and for the next month or so, I will be looking at Ghosts of Spain by  Giles Tremlett. I’ll be using his book as a means to get a sense of history of what’s going on for Spain and Catalonia. If you are interested, obviously I recommend you just buy the book. But for those of you that want a quick summary of the relevant ideas, this is where you’ll find it.

I can identify well with Tremlett because he has a family in Spain, and as he writes concerning his children  ‘Spain’s future matters to me. It maybe theirs.’  It’s this, that has begun this deep rooted feeling here in Granollers Catalonia. My son is Catalan by heart, and my daughter by birth. This is their country and I am here to defend their right to be heard.

‘Spain is different’ – If I happen to question something about the culture here, or ask, in honest confusion about historic matters that don’t add up to my simple mind, Catalans here often laugh dryly with knowing eyes ‘Spain is different’. It’s a blanket approach to the myriad points that foreigners don’t grasp and it’s a psychological full stop – perhaps even a survival phrase- that stops their own spiral into injustice and repression and despair. I’ve often thought that if some of the things that have happened here, happened in Australia, we’d have taken to the streets in violent  screaming. Australians are not so well known for holding their temper. And it’s my opinion that this shrugging acceptance of corruption and injustice in Spain by the Catalan people rises out of survival. Let’s remember that during the civil war Catalans who stood up for their rights were quite literally put up against a wall and shot. Or perhaps taken out onto a hill and shot. Or just butchered in their homes.

All of the revolutionaries, the ones with courage and conviction died, the Catalans who survived were the other sort. The ones that fled, or the ones that shut up. Now, we have survivors. The Catalans who are with us today developed survival skills, survival psychology of adapt or die. And they have survived by developing a black sense of humour, of speaking quietly (much quieter than the typical Spanish), of saying ‘ba!’ to anything they don’t care about and shrugging it all off.

Now, again, it’s my humble opinion that there has been enough time since the civil war for another generation of rebels, of courageous fighters, of people with conviction and courage to take up where their forefathers left off. To remind everyone that they are still here. To remind people that they really do have a voice and that they will have their say.

And, in a country that deems it illegal to talk about breaking from the sovereign unity of Spain, I think, reckless as it is, this threat of announcing the Independence of Catalonia from Spain is a well thought out plan that does not have the immediate Independence of Catalonia on it’s agenda.  It’s a way to force the Catalan problem into the spotlight. It’s a way to get people like me to start writing to people like you. It’s a way to get Europe involved in and aware of the overwhelming injustices of the Catalan people. It’s a way, for the Catalans, finally, after years of shutting up, to shout at the top of their lungs ‘we are here, and we have a voice, and we will be heard’.

You might think the action extreme. But once you become aware of the history of Catalonia you’ll wonder how they have held their peace for so long. I personally, burn with indignation for them. I burn with indignation when I see the leader of Spain treat them like unruly children who need a firm hand. The Catalans are not undisciplined children, and Spain is not the heavy handed old fashioned father from the  days of old when children were seen and not heard.

All institutions are there for the service of humanity. All laws are there to help us, protect us, serve us. When the law is upheld beyond it’s expiry date as sovereign , to the detriment of millions, we see deeply the treacherous hold power has over these leaders. Let us remember, it’s not human kind we must be afraid of, it’s the institutions that become like gods held high as untouchable and inviolable. People say no one is above the law, and I say, there is not one law that is above a human right. 

Parking in Granollers

My dears,  don't do it! 
Not for a minute.
The tow trucks circle every area of Granollers.  They really are out to get you.  Don't park illegally. Don't leave your car somewhere for five minutes.  You'll be fined. 

Sharpening Knives at the Beach

There's an old man who drives up on his scooter and he sets up his knife sharpening machine from the back of the bike. 
He's doing the knives from the local restaurant,  here at Cala Canyelles. 
Lots of people taking photos of him.  They're stopping on their way to and from the beach. 
He's quite a character,  posing with the knife. 
The machine is making continuous noise. 
Lydia sleeps on. 

Parking at Cala Canyelles

There is a resident parking officer tracking the cars.  She walks around frequently checking the tickets. 
Please don't leave your car here without a ticket.  You will be fined. 
I hear arguments everyday. 

I Make Jewelry

I haven't written in ages. 
I'm so busy with my little girl and my new hobby that's turned into a small business. 
I've started making jewelry, holding jewelry parties and heading off to KLZ conventions. Busy me!  It's an exciting time. 
I'm hoping to get back into blogging too.  I've just started a break from facebook. That should free up some time. 

Busy in the Festa Major

Everyone is after all the free seats in Corona Plaza.
These two women were squeezed onto one seat. I'm happy the young teenage boys were comfortable though.

The Basque Country, July 22013

We've spent the last 9 days on a driving holiday around Aragon and part of the Basque area of Spain.
We camped for the first 7 days and are currently recovering in a rural house called Pikua just outside the town of Mutriku.
We were very lucky with the weather. It only rained twice. Once when we were in the tent, and very lightly, and once at the BBK festival. We recovered quite quickly. 
We went to the BBK festival held in Bilbao. Saw Depeche Mode, Biffy Clyro, The Editors, Kings of Leon, Fat Boy Slim and many other bands.
We leave tomorrow morning for Madrid, to pick up our new family members from our sisters. And we begin a new phase in our life.
The first photo is of Albert pitching our tent in a place called Fiscal at the base of the Pyrenese. We used Fiscal as a base to explore the area.
The second photo is of a village being reconstructed after being forcibly evacuated in Franco times to build a dam (that was never finished)
The third photo is of the camping area for the music festival. We seen learnt we'd chosen a rather unfortunate spot.  It was close to a bright light, the toilets, the bar, the main cross roads of the camp and a picnic table that acted as a meeting place for loud drunken British any time after 3am. Luckily we were so tired at the end of the night we could sleep through most of it.
The fourth photo emphasises the delight in small comforts. My Prince Albert bringing me the essentiial and restoritive cup of tea and a lovely big dish of rice pudding. We'd found a bar at the top of the hill hosting the bands and could recharge our phones (hence avoiding the 3 euro surcharge from a little Catalan Truck parked outside of the camping offering to charge mobile phones), eat delicious and large country portions of rice pudding and feel completely civilized for the moment. Happy moments.
The fifth photo is of our rural house called Pikua. A lovely haven of hot showers, hearty breakfasts, bunnies, chickens and ponies, a view of the Atlantic, a remote control, and neighbours that i have taken a photo of in the 6th photo.
The 7th photo shows the Basilica dedicated to Saint Ignacio of Layola. We visited the area yesterday and were lucky enough to hear a choir singing. A beautiful place.
The final photo is of the sunset over the Atlantic last night. We drove along the coast on the way home and watched the slow descent of a red sun into the waters.  Gorgeous area.