Basque Fact of the Week: The Most Popular Names in Bizkaia

Only a few generations ago, everyone in the Basque Country had, officially, Spanish or French names, an imposition of the Church and State. I’ve done some genealogy and this is the case going back centuries. I’ve heard that people often had unofficial Basque names or nicknames, but on their birth certificate or in the priest’s book of births, it was always Spanish or French. That changed after Franco’s death, when the resurgence of Basque culture also led to people giving their children names of Basque origin. Names like Itxaso, Aritz, Egoitz, Iratxe, and Ekain. That new reality is reflected in this list of the most popular names in Bizkaia, as collected by the agency INE and reported by the newspaper Deia. I often get queries about Basque names and maybe this list will serve as some kind of inspiration. For more context on Basque first names, check out this post.

  • Names for girls: By far, Ane dominates the list. Ane has been the most popular name for girls since the 90s. Of course, not all of these names are of Basque origin. Lucia, Martina, and Sofia are not, I’m less sure about Maddi.
  • Names for boys: The top name right now is Markel, though Oihan and Jon are not so far behind – the disparity between the most popular names isn’t nearly as great as it is for girls. Further, over the years, there has been more movement in the most popular name. Jon and Iker used to be at the top of the list and, while Jon is still near the top, Iker has dropped near the bottom of this list. The only name that isn’t Basque on this list is Martin, though not all of the other names are native to Basque.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary source: Los nombres clásicos en euskera triunfan entre los niños vizcainos,

Basque Fact of the Week: The Boise Basque Museum and Cultural Center

Situated in the heart of downtown Boise, the Basque Museum and Cultural Center is a centerpiece of the Basque community in Idaho. With a variety of exhibits highlighting Basque history in Idaho and the American West, they provide a glimpse into the lives of the men and women who helped shape Basque identity in the United States. They also have tremendous resources at hand that document much of that history. If you have the chance, I highly recommend stopping by, saying hello, and learning something new about Basques in America. And if you can’t visit Boise, you can always check out their website.

The Basque Museum and Cultural Center. Photo found on TripAdvisor.
  • The Basque Museum and Cultural Center (BMCC), which has the mission “preserve, promote, and perpetuate Basque history and culture,” was founded in 1985. It began in the Cyrus Jacobs-Uberuaga house, an old boarding house that sits next to the Boise Basque Center. It wasn’t until 1993 that the museum moved to its current location next door.
  • The BMCC curates exhibits that highlight the Basque experience in the American West. Right now, they have exhibits on Hemingway and his relationship with the Basque Country, the Basque community in the Western United States, and the life of a Basque sheepherder. In the past, they have had exhibits on Basque women, Gernika, Basque dancing, and Basque military veterans. This is in addition to their permanent display of a Basque sheep wagon.
  • In addition to their exhibits, the BMCC does extensive research into the history of the local Basque community and more broadly the Basques of the American West. They aid visitors with genealogical research and have a vast library of resources on Basque history. They also host a virtual version of Sol Silen’s The History of the Basques in the West, which contains brief biographies of many Basques who immigrated to the United States before it was published in 1917. They also have a collection of oral histories, audio interviews of many local Basques.
  • The Cyrus Jacobs-Uberuaga house, officially part of the BMCC, operated as a boarding house from 1910-1965. In 1928, the Uberuaga family bought it from their partners and ran it until it closed. It was a critical stopping point for Basques that came to Idaho and beyond to herd sheep. It, and other boardinghouses like it, were central to the social life of those Basques. My Uncle Jose spent more than a few nights there.
  • Finally, they also have a gift shop that features items made by local artists and craftspeople, as well as specialty items from the Basque Country.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary sources: The Basque Museum and Cultural Center

Basque Fact of the Week: What is the Difference between Euskadi, Euskal Herria, and the BAC?

What’s in a name? For a place like the Basque Country, there are several names that jumble together and can be confusing at times. Because the Basque Country is split by the Spanish-French border and, even within Spain, it is split into two different autonomous communities, there are different names that reflect this politically complex and messy situation.

Different terms correspond to different parts of the Basque Country, resulting in a somewhat complex jumble of names.
  • Euskal Herria literally means the Basque Country, though Herria can take on other meanings like “people” or “nation” so the meaning can be a little vague. Euskal Herria refers to the seven historical Basque provinces: Bizkaia, Gipuzkoa, Araba, and Nafarroa in Hegoalde (literally, the southern part, in Spain) and Lapurdi, Zuberoa, and Nafarroa Beherea in Iparralde (the northern part, in France). The oldest references to Euskal Herria as a concept come from the mid 1500s. Joan Perez de Lazarraga, writing around 1564–1567, called it eusquel erria and eusquel erriau while the phrase Heuscal-Herrian appeared in 1571 in Joanes Leizarraga‘s translation of the Bible.
  • In contrast, Euskadi has a narrower meaning, referring specifically to the three provinces that comprise the Basque Autonomous Community (BAC): Bizkaia, Gipuzkoa, and Araba. Nafarroa forms its own autonomous community. Thus, Euskadi and BAC are synonymous. The BAC was formed through the Statute of Autonomy of the Basque Country in 1979. However, Euskal Herria is also a co-official designation of the BAC, so it does get a little confusing…
  • Originally coined by Sabino Arana as Euzkadi, Euskadi is now the accepted form. Arana created Euzkadi as a term in contrast to Euskal Herria which didn’t have the same connotation as the homeland of a Basque people. It always carried a political weight that Euskal Herria did not. It was also originally meant to embody all seven provinces, but with time that has shifted. Euzkadi also became the official name of the autonomous Basque entity created in 1936, but then destroyed by the Spanish Civil War. Bernardo Atxaga has an interesting article about the first time he heard the word Euzkadi and the evolving difference between Euzkadi and Euskadi.
  • In all of this, Nafarroa is its own autonomous community within Spain, separate from the BAC.
  • In the north, in Iparralde, after the French Revolution, any separate recognition of the Basque provinces as Basque was lost. Today, Iparralde is part of the French Pyrénées-Atlantiques department, which lumps it together with Béarn.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary sources: Basque Country (autonomous community), Wikipedia; Basque Country (greater region), Wikipedia

Basque Fact of the Week: Discovery of an Altar to the Ancient Basque Deity Larrahe

The discovery of the the Hand of Irulegi showed how much history there is hidden in the mountains of Euskal Herria. Another such discovery was recently announced, this time revealing tantalizing hints about the beliefs of the ancient Basques. Though there is still so much more to learn, each discovery teaches us just a little bit more about the Basques of yesteryear.

The fronton of Larunbe is adorned with a mural dedicated to the Basque deity Larrahe. Image from Noticias de Navarra.
  • The Sociedad de Ciencias Aranzadi, the same group that discovered the Hand of Irulegi, has been working on excavating a monastery on Mount Arriaundi, near the town of Larunbe in Nafarroa, since 2010. The local residents had pointed out some strange features that were likely walls. Historical records mentioned a hermitage that no longer existed. It turns out, the site was the home to two religious buildings. The hermitage of San Gregorio was built on the ruins of an even older monastery dedicated to San Esteban.
  • San Esteban was built during the High Middle Ages with Romanesque design elements such as curved apses. However, within the monastery’s well, the archeaologists discovered a stone alter that was much older. Dedicated to the Basque deity Larrahe or Larra, the altar has been dated to between the 1st century BCE and the 1st century CE. So some 2000 years old.
  • The altar isn’t large, measuring 18x7x7 cubic inches and weighing 60 pounds. It has a round indent on the top, perhaps for pour wine or burning some offering. On the side, there is an inscription which means that “Valeria Vitella fulfilled her promise, willingly and deservedly, to Larrahe.” The inscription, except for the name of the Basque deity, is in Latin. Valeria Vitella would have been a woman who was making an offering to Larrahe.
  • This isn’t the first artifact that mentions this Basque deity. In total, there are four different artifacts with Larrahe’s name, found in Muruzabal in Andione, Iruxon, Errezun, and, most recently, Larunbe.
  • On two of these, the deity’s name is written Larrahi. This has led some researchers to suggest that “-hi/-he” is a suffix, maybe meaning “to” like modern “-ri” in Basque, and that the deity’s name was Larra. The “h” in the name also suggests a Basque origin as Basque and Aquitanian had this feature while other local languages did not. So does the hard double “rr” which is characteristic of Basque.
  • If the deity’s name was indeed Larra, this suggests a connection to meadows, as larra means meadow in Basque. So maybe this deity was connected to pastures or farmland.
  • In most news reports, and indeed in the mural that now adorns the fronton in Larunbe, Larrahe is referred to as female, as a goddess. On the Basque Wikipedia page for Larrahe, however, there are arguments presented that Larrahe was a male god. In the end, we don’t know much about Larrahe, what powers or characteristics this deity had, nor even very certainly his or her gender. Perhaps there are more archeological treasures waiting to be discovered that will shed more light on this, and other, ancient Basque deities.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary sources: Hallado en Larunbe un altar de piedra romano dedicado por una mujer a la deidad vascona Larrahe by Pello Guerra, Naiz; Larrahe, Wikipedia; Larunbeko aldarea, Wikipedia; Larrahe baskoien dibinitateari eskainitako aldare bat aurkitu dute Larunben by Ainhoa Sarasola, Berria.

Basque Fact of the Week: Who was Larry Trask?

I often quote linguist Larry Trask in many of my posts about Euskara. I had the great fortune to “meet” Larry virtually through a number of Basque-related Internet forums that were popular in the day (mailing lists and the like that seem to have all but disappeared). Larry was noted for being critical of most theories and ideas related to the origins of the Basque language, but he backed up his criticism with rigorous arguments, or so it seemed to me as a non-expert. Larry kept a website where he would post various articles about the Basque language, which I was allowed to mirror on this site.

Larry Trask with two of his most famous books, Language: the Basics and The History of Basque.
  • Robert Lawrence Trask was born on November 10, 1944, in Olean, New York. Larry described his childhood home as “quite literally in the middle of the woods. We have practically no people there, but we have loads of animals: woodchucks, rabbits, possums, raccoons, and gazillions of deer.” As he grew older, he was originally interested in astronomy and then chemistry, obtaining an undergraduate degree in chemistry from Rensselaer College and beginning his PhD at Brandeis University.
  • He began his teaching career in chemistry, teaching courses in North America, the United Kingdom and Turkey. However, after his time in the Peace Corp, his interests shifted; his graduate work was in the field of linguistics and he earned his doctorate in 1971 from the University of London. His thesis work focused on the phonetics and morphology of Euskara. After a nine-year stint at the University of Liverpool, he moved to the University of Sussex.
  • Perhaps the crowning achievement of his career, Trask wrote The History of Basque which was published in 1997. This book has become an essential reference in Basque linguistics. At the time of his death, he was working on an etymological dictionary of the Basque language. An incomplete draft was compiled by his friend Max Wheeler and can be found here.
  • In addition to his focus on the Basque language, Trask also did extensive research into historical linguistics, or how languages evolve over time. He is perhaps best known for his book Language: the Basics, which introduces the concepts of linguistics to a general audience.
  • In a field where everyone seems to think they can contribute – after all, we all speak languages – Trask maintained a level of rigor that sought to provide a solid foundation. At the time of his death, he was working on an article about so-called bongo-bongo theories of Basque: “there is no shred of persuasive evidence that Basque is related to any other language at all, living or dead.”
  • Larry died in 2004 from motor neuron disease – he was 59 years old.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary sources: Auñamendi Eusko Entziklopedia. Trask, Robert Lawrence. Available at:; Larry Trask’s Obituary in The Guardian; A Way With Words, an Interview of Larry Trask by Andrew Brown in The Guardian; Larry Trask, Wikipedia

Basque Fact of the Week: Aideko, the Clouds that Bring Death

One of the most magical scenes from the Basque Country is the valleys filled with a gentle fog, hiding the deepest recesses as the mountains peak over the top. It’s something that is simply very rare here in New Mexico. But, for ancient Basques, that fog wasn’t always welcome and indeed it brought supernatural diseases that humans had little ability to fight. The supernatural air – Aideko – could only be countered with prayer or magic.

A low fog spreading through the valley of Aia. It was believed that such fog – Aideko – brought supernatural diseases. Photo from Wikipedia.
  • Aideko literally means “of the air,” though this spirit has multiple names: Aide, Aidetikako. Aideko is typically invisible – like the air – but can take the form of a mist or fog, when it is called Lauso or Lainaide. It was believed that the air could intervene in human affairs, sometimes for good and sometimes for bad. In its bad form, it is also called Aidegaxto. The idea of Aideko extends beyond the Basque Country, as far as Cantabria.
  • In basic Basque belief, the world was split into two parts. There was the natural, or berezko, part that was understood and could be explained. Then there was the aideko part, the supernatural that could not be explained. All of the supernatural came from the air – aideko. Natural forces could be used to influence berezko, but only prayer and magic could intervene against aideko.
  • Similarly, Aideko was responsible for all diseases whose causes were not known. For example, it was believed that black fever (cholera) was brought to the people by Aide, who had come in the form of a low mist that spread through the valleys and villages. One remedy was to parade a flock of sheep through the streets, as the sheep would catch the fever and spare the people. A “rotten fog” that lingered for days could ruin crops and harm animals. In such cases, Aideko was known as Lainaide, a fog that was sent by the sea to destroy crops and livestock.
  • There are stories that the end of the Jentilak was ushered in by the coming of clouds of fog. In some stories, the clouds simply heralded their end, but in others, the clouds literally chased the jentilak to their doom, forcing them underground where they remain buried. Again, the clouds bring death with them.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary sources: Barandiaran Ayerbe, José Miguel de. Aide, Aideko, Aidetikako. Auñamendi Encyclopedia, 2024. Available at:; Aideko, Wikipedia; Hartsuaga Uranga, Juan Inazio. Laino Marismea. Auñamendi Encyclopedia, 2024. Available at:

Basque Fact of the Week: The River of Moonmilk in Gipuzkoa

The world is full of natural wonders and every corner of the globe can boast spectacular sites. It seems, though, that the Basque Country has a disproportionate number of unique phenomena. From the flysch of Zumaia to a number of wondrous waterfalls to an amazing network of caves and caverns, the Basque Country is teeming with sites to behold. Buried amongst those caverns, though, is perhaps one of the most unique natural phenomena of all: a river of moonmilk.

The river of moonmilk in the valley of Aizarna, Gipuzkoa. Photo from
  • Until 2004, all the moonmilk deposits known in the world were stagnant. However, in 2004, a group of spelunkers announced they had discovered an actual river of moonmilk in a cave on Mount Ernio, in the valley of Aizarna of Gipuzkoa. This river flows for some 150 meters, or nearly 500 feet. The river looks like milk, but with a consistency closer to liquid yogurt. In fact, it is one of two such rivers known in the world, the second also in Gipuzkoa.
  • Moonmilk, or leche de luna in Spanish and ilargi esnea in Euskara, consists primarily of minerals such as carbonate, calcium, and magnesium. These minerals remain in microscopic form instead of crystallizing into larger crystals. Thus, moonmilk has a consistency that is gooey and pasty when wet. And in most places, it is in a semi-solid state, not liquid like the river in Aizarna. There is some debate as to whether bacteria plays a role in the formation of moonmilk. Some deposits have microorganisms, but others don’t.
  • Of course, with something so exotic, there are other stories of its origins. Some believed moonmilk formed from the rays of the moon. Others thought that gnomes put it in caves so that people could use it on their animals (see below). The term moonmilk, or the German equivalent, was coined in the sixteenth century when, in Switzerland, the pasty semi-solid form was found in a cave that was then called Höhle Mondmilchloch, or the cave of moonmilk.
  • While this was a wonderful discovery for scientists, local residents had known about the river for, essentially, ever. When it would rain, a milky white substance would leak out of the mines, even reaching the roads. The locals simply never gave it much thought, it would seem.
  • Moonmilk has a long history of use as both a healing ointment and beauty aid. In Europe, people would rub moonmilk on cuts sustained by their livestock, believing it would heal them faster. And, indeed, analysis has shown that moonmilk contains actinomycetes which is a producer of antibiotics. And in China, a bronze jar over 2,700 years old was discovered with a mixture of moonmilk and animal fat, thought to be used as a cosmetic face cream.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary sources: Moonmilk and Cave-dwelling Microbes by John Roth; Moonmilk, Wikipedia

Basque Fact of the Week: Subh the Basque – Slave, Concubine, and Ruler of Córdoba

I’ve posted a few times about the intertwined history of the Basque Country and the neighboring Muslim empire during the Muslim occupation of Iberia. The more I look, the more intriguing bits of history I find. Not only was there a close relationship between the two kingdoms/empires, but at least a few Basques became important figures in the heart of the Muslim Caliphate. None rose to greater prominence than Subh the Basque, who began her Islamic life as a slave.

Subh as played by actor Nesreen Tafesh in the series Cordoba Spring. Image found on Nesreen Tafesh’s Facebook page.
  • Little is known about the early life of Subh (Subh al-baskunsiyya, Subh the Basque) or, as she is known in the Basque Country, Aurora. She was born around 940 and was from either Nafarroa or Gascony, possibly from a noble family. As a young girl, she was taken as a slave to Caliph al-Hakam II of Córdoba. Being raised in the Islamic culture, she was well versed in poetry, literature, and Islamic customs. She was a qiyān, or singing slave.
  • There is at least one account that says that Aurora was given as a gift by a treaty to al-Hakam, a treaty signed by the Queen of Nafarroa, Toda. The treaty was with al-Hakam’s father, Abd-al-Rahman III, who was also Toda’s nephew. In this account, she had a brother named Eneko who maybe was also gifted to the Caliph.
  • In al-Hakam’s harem, Subh became a favorite concubine. She was known for her beauty, intelligence, and analytical mind. As the Caliph’s favorite, she eventually became his wife. When she produced an heir, she became an Umm walad, meaning that, when her husband/enslaver died, she would be freed.
  • There are stories that Subh dressed as a young man, sporting both a short haircut and trousers. The reasons vary. According to some, she was simply trying to get more access to royal court, which was limited for women. According to others, her husband al-Hakam was homosexual and more interested in men than women and this was her way of gaining his attention. Similarly, there are stories that al-Hakam called her Ja’far, a male name.
  • Eventually, Subh ended up managing the political affairs of the Caliphate as al-Hakam simply lost interest. She and her trusted secretary/collaborator, Al-Mansur Ibn Abi Aamir (known as Almanzor), effectively ruled the Caliphate. There were rumors, which made it into poems and rhymes, that they were lovers, but if true, the Caliph never took action against them. At her peak of power, Subh was the de facto ruler of Córdoba.
  • When al-Hakam died in 976, their son Hisham II, only ten years old at the time, became Caliph with Subh acting as one regent and Almanzor administering her properties. Almanzor’s influence became so great that Subh essentially gave him power over the army, which he then used to become the effective ruler of Córdoba. Though the alliance between Almanzor and Subh continued for some years, until Subh decided in 996 to try to regain power for her and her son. In the end, Subh was on the losing side and died a few years later in 999.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary sources: Subh of Córdoba, Wikipedia; Subh, Wikipedia; El autentico papel político que ejerció la concubina Ṣubḥ en la Córdoba Califal, Kharfallah Amira

Remembering Dad by Telling His Stories

Getting better with my amazing support team!

Today is dad’s birthday. He would have turned 80. I decided to celebrate his birthday by lying in a hospital bed, much like he did for so many days. Well, ok, it wasn’t like I chose to do this. At the risk of sounding self indulgent or providing too much information, I got an infection between my lung and my rib – something doctors call an empyema. The only way to get rid of it is by draining via a chest tube…

I’ve been in the hospital just shy of a week, which is nothing compared to the months upon months – very likely adding up to a year or even more – that dad spent in various hospital beds, but maybe it gives me a little more appreciation of what he went through all of those days. All of the poking, the constant sudden wake ups in the middle of the night so they can check vitals or draw more blood, and the endless stream of people coming and going, observing you sometimes in a detached way like some sort of specimen. (To be fair, my doctors and nurses have been great and have not made me feel this way, but I know dad did at times.) When he first went into the hospital, back in 1997, his heart was failing after too many heart attacks and he needed a heart transplant. He had to lay in a bed for three months waiting for a new heart. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even shift around in that bed, because he had a catheter that went up his leg and pumped a balloon that kept his heart moving. Three months is a long time to just lay there. His body atrophied significantly. His once strong body, the one that was built herding sheep and bucking hay, was gone. When he finally got the heart, he would often say that the engine was new, but the chassis was, literally, shit.

I think dad’s Basque stubbornness helped him get through all of it. There were times when he wanted to give up, when things either looked bleak (no, that heart isn’t right for him, we’ll have to keep waiting) or he had a particularly bad day. Like after he had a yeast infection that nearly shut down his whole body. His feet and hands were freezing as all of his internal resources were devoted to his heart and brain. We would plead with him to keep fighting – didn’t he want to see grandchildren someday? But, really, I think it was being stubborn and refusing to quit that got him through it all. Along with the amazing support of my mom who was relentless in making sure he got what he needed. That new heart gave him 18-19 years, years where he saw all three of his sons get married (we were all relatively late bloomers) and all of us have our own kids. He got to meet four of his five grandchildren and I know he made an impression on them. And seeing them always brought a sparkle to his eye.

But, that Basque stubbornness was a double-edged sword. When dad had to start physical therapy to try to rebuild that broken chassis, he quit after the first setback, refusing to listen to the doctors or anyone else. He was just done. And so that chassis never got better. The axels and the frame continued to deteriorate, as did some of the auxiliary features. The analogy went so far that when he was sitting there getting dialysis, it was like being at the mechanic’s, changing the oil in the car. But what can you do when a stubborn Basque has made up his mind? Dad wasn’t going to do the physical therapy and there wasn’t anything we could do to change his mind.

In the end, dad was just done with it all. He was in a rehab center and got sick. They told him he needed to go to the hospital yet again to get treatment. He shook his head. No. He was done with being poked and prodded. He was done with those hospital beds. He wanted to be in his own home, free of the constant buzz that surrounds a hospital bed. We took him home and the next night he passed, in the wee hours of Thanksgiving Day, 2015. I like to think he got a little rest at the end.

Thanks to Lisa Van De Graaff for encouraging me to record dad and his stories when I could.

Basque Fact of the Week: Herensuge, the Basque Dragon

Dragons are ubiquitous across mythologies all over the world and the Basque Country is no exception. Their version – the herensuge – shares many features with other dragons but also has some seemingly distinct traits. The herensuge also features in stories in which a hero vanquishes the monster, providing the hero some bonafides. Though in at least one story a young girl kills the herensuge by throwing an egg in its face.

An artist’s rendition of herensuge, by Iñaki Sendino.
  • The herensuge is a dragon-like diabolical spirit that often takes the form of a snake. Indeed, the word suge means snake in Euskara. Depending on the story, he has either one (more commonly) or seven heads. Various homes can be found across the Basque Country, but most often he resides in the Ertzagania cave in the Ahuski mountain range, the chasm of Aralar chasm, Murugain in Mondragón, or Peña of Orduña.
  • Stories about the herensuge vary across the Basque Country. In the Ahuski mountains, the herensuge attracts cattle to his cave with his breath. In others, it is said that he eats human flesh, consuming up to a person a day in some places. Perhaps one of the more interesting stories, from Ezpeleta, says that, when the seventh head forms, herensuge bursts into flames and flies off to the west, to Itxasgorrieta, or the “place of the red seas,” where he promptly sinks into the water. How his heads form isn’t clear. As he flies, he creates a terrible noise that echos across the countryside.
  • In at least one story, the herensuge is born from an egg laid by a hen in manure. But other accounts say that the seven heads are actually the children of the main dragon and, as they mature, they fall off and reap havoc on their own.
  • In some stories, he is killed at the hand of various heroes. In one, a blacksmith kills him with an iron bar. In another, he is poisoned. In yet another, elaborated in the legend of Teodosio de Goñi, Saint Michael cuts his head off. In yet other stories, a youth – particularly a young girl – could kill herensuge by throwing an egg in his face.
  • In some stories, herensuge is confused with Sugaar, the snake-like consort of Mari. With the advent of the Catholic Church in the Basque Country, stories involving herensuge also became convoluted with the snake in the garden of Eden and the seven-headed dragon that appears in the Book of Revelation. He is even said to be the husband of Lilith.
  • My daughter exhorted me to say that the herensuge is featured in the book The Basque Dragon, which we read together when she was younger.

A full list of all of Buber’s Basque Facts of the Week can be found in the Archive.

Primary sources: Herensuge. Auñamendi Encyclopedia. Available at:; Herensuge, Wikipedia