The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 101

“What’s going on?” asked Kepa as the robed figures scurried from station to station.

“We’re getting ready to evacuate,” replied Marina. “They are getting too close and we can’t afford to be caught, not a single one of us.”

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!

“Where will we go?” asked Maite. 

“We have several spaces like this scattered in the underground across the city, with advance scouts to keep them prepped in case we need them. We’ll be ok, but we need to clear this one out and leave as little usable evidence as possible. They can’t find out who we are or where we are going next.”

Maite and Kepa watched as Argia dismantled her monitor system. Rather, as it folded in on itself, the edges coming together, the screens curling and folding up, until ultimately collapsing to a small cube about the size of a Rubicks cube from their own time. The rest of the equipment in the hall was doing something similar. 

“That’s amazing!” began Kepa.

“Shh!” warned Marina. “This is all pretty standard stuff for this time. No one from this time would be surprised by it.”

Maite nodded, the wonder still visible on her face. “It’s still pretty cool.”

Marina let a smile crack her grizzled face. “It is. Consider that I grew up in a time where lighting came from fire and stories came out of the mouths of elders.”

“We’re ready,” barked a man that Kepa recognized by voice to be the one who had drug him here and he assumed was Marina’s right hand.

Marina nodded. “We’re going to checkpoint dorrea. You all know what to do. Go your separate ways, reconvene there in…”

An explosion interrupted Marina’s orders as the doors to the hall burst from their hinges and erupted into a million pieces. Within moments, three uniformed officers on hoverboards burst into the room, followed by multiple spherical drones.

“Nola? How?” bellowed Marina but before she could get an answer, the drones were swarming the room, bolts of energy firing in all directions. 

Marina grabbed Kepa and Maite’s arms. “This way!” she yelled, pulling them to the desk as some of the robbed figures huddled behind tables, firing their own weapons back at the spheres that rolled through the air above them. Other drones spewed smoke that sunk into the room. The smoke stung their eyes as they half followed and were half dragged by Marina toward the desk.

As Marina led them back to her desk, it suddenly moved aside, revealing stairs that went down into inky blackness. 

“Come!” she hissed, pulling Kepa’s arm so hard he thought she might dislocate it. He turned to grab Maite’s hand when a bolt of energy hit her in the back. She immediately fell to the ground.

“Maite!” screamed Kepa as he jerked his arm free of Marina and rushed to Maite’s side.

Maite lay on the ground, looking straight up at him. “I can’t move my legs,” she said, tears flowing down her cheeks. 

Marina grabbed Kepa’s arm again. “We have to go! Or they’ll catch all of us.” She looked down at Maite. “We’ll find you.”

“Zer?” cried Kepa, anguish carved in his face. “We can’t leave her here!”

“And we can’t carry her either!” barked Marina back at him. “Your leg isn’t fully recovered, and she can’t move. If we don’t go now, they’ll catch us too.”

Kepa looked pleadingly at Maite, tears filling his eyes.

“Go! Zoaz! I know you’ll find me, if not in this bubble, in the next” said Maite.

Kepa nodded, wiping tears from his eyes as he rushed down the stairs with Marina. Maite watched as the desk moved back to cover their escape.

If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net if you want to get in touch with me.

Basque Fact of the Week: The House of Haro and the Lords of Bizkaia

I have to admit that, whenever I look into the medieval history of the Basque Country, I quickly get lost. There are simply so many players, so many changing alliances, and so many intermarriages that it is hard for me to keep track – theoretical physics is easier! However, one thing is clear: the importance of the House of Haro and the Lordship of Bizkaia in the history of that province. By the way, if anyone has a good book suggestion for the medieval history of the Basque Country, please let me know!

Diego López V de Haro, Lord of Bizkaia from 1295-1310 and founder of Bilbao. Photo from Wikipedia.
  • There are at least two myths surrounding the founding of the Lordship of Bizkaia. The first, dating to at least the early 1300s, has Froom, the exiled brother of the King of England, fighting against the Asturians in Busturia with his son Fortun Froes. Froom was killed in battle but Froes was, for some reason, named Lord of Bizkaia for his efforts.
  • The second myth revolves around Jaun Zuria, the White Lord. In this story, the daughter of a Scottish king arrives by ship at the port of Mundaka, where she gives birth to a son. Some tales say that the boy, named Çuria, was the son of Sugaar, the mythical consort of Mari. The mother and son later move to Busturia, where the boy is raised. He is chosen by the people of Bizkaia to lead their resistance against the Asturians, defeating them in the battle of Arrigorriaga, for which he is rewarded by being named Lord of Bizkaia.
  • The first historical Lord of Bizkaia was Iñigo López Ezquerra, who became Lord sometime between 1040 and 1043. He was appointed to this role by king García Sánchez III of Navarre. Not much is known about Iñigo. He first appears in history in 1033, when he was mentioned in the writings of Sancho el Mayor of Nafarroa. Iñigo made the position hereditary, passing it along to his son, Lope Íñiguez.
  • Lope’s son, Diego López I de Haro, became the third Lord of Bizkaia and also took on the name Haro, using it for the first time in 1117. Haro was a place in La Rioja that was under the family’s control. His descendants continued to use the name from then on and, except for a brief moment in time, ruled the Lordship of Bizkaia until Juana Núñez de Lara y Díaz de Haro who was Lady of Bizkaia between 1352-1359. She died with no successor, ending the House of Haro’s control of the Lordship.
  • Though the first Lord of Bizkaia, Iñigo, gained his title through the king of Nafarroa, the family later aligned themselves with Castilla, and even later again with Nafarroa. During the House of Haro’s reign, in 1176, Bizkaia was divided along the Nervión river, with the left becoming part of Castilla and the right remaining with Nafarroa. Eventually, the Lordship fell completely under the domain of Castilla, until it was abolished in 1876, along with the Bizkaian fueros and the Juntas Generales.
  • The Lordship’s domain consisted of three parts. The Tierra Llana, or flatlands, was the rural middle region that was not protected by walls and was comprised of, amongst other towns, Mundaka, Busturia, Marikina, Amorebieta, Sondika, and Lemoa. To the west was the Enkarterri, including Muskia and Sestao, while to the east lie the Durangaldea, with Mallabia and Elorrio, amongst other towns.

Primary sources: Asarta Epenza, Urbano. CASA DE HARO. Auñamendi Encyclopedia. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/casa-de-haro/ar-27139/; Estornés Lasa, Bernardo. Íñigo López Ezquerra. Auñamendi Encyclopedia. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/inigo-lopez-ezquerra/ar-68947/; Lordship of Biscay, Wikipedia

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 100


100 episodes?!? Who would have thought! I have no idea who might still be reading this, but if you are and you enjoy it at all, I’d love to hear from you!

“In this time,” began Olatz/Marina as they walked toward a large monitor screen that was manned by a young woman, “he has called himself Zalazar, a bit ironic as Salazar was one of the few who resisted the persecution of the Basque witches.” 

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!

Turning to the young woman, Marina continued. “This is Argia. She is our primary eyes out there, watching the government’s movements, looking for any glimpse of Zalazar.” 

The young woman, who was dressed in the same robe as everyone else but had her hood pulled down to reveal her bright blond curls and her dark eyes, looked up at them. “I haven’t seen any hint of him for quite some time,” she said. “Though there has been some extra activity at his home.” Argia pointed at one of the video feeds on her large monitor, which was covered by hundreds of different windows that flickered back and forth with images. The one Argia pointed to showed the top of a tall tower. On the roof, there were a number of the spherical drones flying back and forth, landing and taking off continuously. “There are more drones than normal,” continued Argia, “though I haven’t seen more people.”

“I’m sure they are huddled in their tower,” said Olatz/Marina. “Keeping their hands clean, so to speak.”

Maite looked over the huddled robed figures spread out through the hall and then at Kepa with her eyebrow raised. Kepa simply shrugged.

“How are you able to watch de Lancre, I mean, Zalazar’s place, so closely?” asked Maite. “Don’t they see you watching them?”

“Argia is hacking into their video systems, so we are watching them through their own drones. We have our own drone nearby, though not so close as to be in visual distance, that receives the feeds from Zalazar’s drones and sends them to us.”

“That’s pretty clever,” said Kepa.

Argia smiled at him. “Thanks! It wasn’t that hard, really. Sometimes, those in power get a little too overconfident in their own abilities.”

“You are too modest,” said Marina. “Argia is one of the premier computer scientists of the country. She is a literal genius when it comes to computer systems.”

Kepa noticed Argia blush as she turned away and back toward her monitors. 

“Anyways,” continued Argia, “beyond the extra drone activity, I haven’t seen anything else of note.”

“I suspect that activity is due to our new friends here,” said Marina. “Can you tell where they are going?”

“Not from this,” said Argia. “Our drone only receives feeds from the drones in the area. But,” she continued as she pointed to another video feed, “there is more activity in the plaza where we found these two.”

One of the video windows centered on the monitor and grew. Maite recognized the plaza where they had encountered the woman on the hoverboard. The plaza was filled with drones and several other uniformed people who were scouring the area. 

“They are looking for a way in,” said Marina with a sigh. She turned to the hall, her voice filling it as she spoke. “Everyone, we are in code Gorria. Be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.”

Murmurs filled the hall as all of the robed figures began to scuttle from one station to the next.

If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net if you want to get in touch with me.

Basque Fact of the Week: Basque Adventurer Marga d’Andurain

Adventurer. A spy, maybe for the British, maybe for the Nazis. Smuggler, black marketeer. Concubine? Marga d’Andurain was many things, though the details of her life have become too blurred between fact and fiction to know the whole truth. Men, including two husbands, died in her wake. She certainly was an adventurous soul that couldn’t stay in one place, writing in her memoir: “The worst boredom in life is monotony. This stubborn monotony that I always want to escape.”

Photograph of d’Andurain from her memoir, found on Wikipedia.
  • Marga was born Jeanne Amélie Marguerite Clérisse on May 29, 1893 in Baiona. Her father, Maxime Ernest Clérisse, was a judge while her mother, Marie Jeanne Diriart, was a housewife. In 1911, she married her cousin, Pierre d’Andurain, taking the surname with which she would become infamous.
  • She grew up studying at various religious schools, including the Ursuline school of Hondarribia. Even from a young age, she rebelled against the system that confined her, and other young women, to specific roles in society. She was so rebellious and wild that, according to her own account, her family attempted to have her exorcised. She later claimed to be heir of the famous adventurous spirit of the Basques.
  • She and Pierre shared a love for exotic countries, and they traveled extensively together, first to places like Portugal, Morocco, and Algeria and later to Argentina and the Middle East. Their stay in Argentina, where they had thought of starting up a ranch, was cut short by World War I and Pierre’s desire to fight for his homeland.
  • After the war, the family was broke and destitute. Marga, despite resistance from her family, started two businesses that proved successful, one decorating apartments which she bought and resold (maybe one of the first flippers) and another where she created artificial pearls. However, in 1925, after she inherited her father’s estate, the family, now with two sons, moved to the Middle East, starting in Algeria and stopping in Egypt before settling in Syria.
  • In Syria, Marga bought a hotel, the Zénobie, where the family lived for about a decode. She began an affair with a British intelligence officer, which raised suspicions that Marga was a spy.
  • In 1933, Marga decided she wanted to visit Mecca, which would make her the first western woman to visit the city. To make her visit happen, she arranged a marriage to a Bedouin, Soleiman Abdelaziz Dikmari. Marga took on the name Zeinab bent Maksime. As soon as they arrived in what is now Saudi Arabia, Soleiman died. Suspicion immediately fell on Marga and she was arrested, first held in the Governor’s seraglio, and later in the police dungeons. Prosecutors requested that she be stoned, but she was ultimately acquitted and released, thanks to the efforts of the French consulate, though some reports indicate she was pardoned by the king.
  • However, this episode led to a certain amount of fame and Marga recounted the events to counter the versions that appeared in the press. She claimed that the king of Nedj, Ibn Saud, convinced she was a spy, had Soleiman killed to frame her.
  • Upon her release, she remarried Pierre. However, Pierre was murdered not long after (either by poisoning or multiple stabbings), in December of 1936. As suspicion again fell on Marga, she fled Syria and returned to Europe.
  • Life in Europe, ravaged by two world wars, was difficult and Marga turned to dealing goods, especially paintings, on the black market. She also traded in opium. She was again put on trial, this time for the suspected poisoning of her cousin (or nephew) Raymond Clerisse. He had scrawled on a subway ticket “Candy which Marga gave me had a strange taste.” Marga was eventually acquitted.
  • Marga died on November 5, 1948 at the age of 55 while onboard her yacht off of the coast of Morocco, murdered by Hans Abele, a former Gestapo agent. Her body, thrown off the side of the yacht and into the sea, was never recovered.

Primary sources: Estornés Zubizarreta, Idoia. ANDURAIN, Marga de. Auñamendi Encyclopedia. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/andurain-marga-de/ar-53/; Marga d’Andurain, Wikipedia

Basque Fact of the Week: The Agotes, Outcasts of the Western Pyrenees

All over the world, people have a tendency to demonize others, to view others as different, as inferior, as outcasts. In Japan, there are the Burakumin; in India, the Dalit. Sometimes there is an ethnic or religious component to this marginalization, but not always. In Europe, there is a group of people who have been viewed as tainted, as inferior. In some parts of France, they were called Cagots, Ladres, or Colliberts. In the Basque Country, they were called Agotes.

An Agote man, photo from Sos del Rey Católico.
  • Little is known about the origins of the Agotes. That they were outcasts is certain, though exactly why is less clear. They aren’t a distinct ethnicity, so that isn’t the reason. There is some thought that their status was linked with leprosy. In any case, their status was hereditary: once a family was identified as Agote, their descendants also carried the stigma. They were forced to live away from others, to identify themselves with some badge, and to not touch food or water that was not separated from everyone else’s.
  • However, as opposed to those with leprosy, Agotes were not completely shunned physically, even though they were not afforded economic or political rights. Some believed that they had been punished by God for some moral failing (including being descendants of the carpenters who built the cross Jesus was crucified on), and thus their banishment was just. Some thought they were descended from Arians or primitive Christians who had been isolated in the mountains. They were always the other: on the south side of the Pyrenees, they were from the north, and vice versa.
  • In early descriptions, Agotes had attributes that varied wildly from author to author, ranging from the very negative – clumsy, unintelligent, miserable, sickly, lascivious – to the extremely positive – intelligent, docile, hard-working, haughty, brave. Sometimes, they were described as having magical powers, fabulous wealth, or colossal strength.
  • Even though they practiced the same religion as their neighbors, they were forced to use a separate door, often short so they were forced to bow; they had separate fonts for holy water; and they received the eucharist on the end of a stick or spoon.
  • They often took on manual jobs and careers, from ironworkers and blacksmiths to weavers and seamstresses, and, in particular, all jobs related to wood. On the coasts, they took the most dangerous jobs in the ports. They were limited in the types of jobs they could take, being forced into these types of manual labor trades.
  • They were excluded from public office and the use of community lands. If they tried to marry into non-Agote houses, they were often forbidden from taking on the house name. And, in the Roncal valley, they were not allowed to use the common red trim on their cloaks, being forced to wear yellow to distinguish them from their neighbors.
  • Basque Moonshiners have named their single malt whiskey Agot after these marginalized peoples.

Kerexeta Erro, Xabier. Agote: etnología e historia. Auñamendi Encyclopedia. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/agote-etnologia-e-historia/ar-10045/; Cagot, Wikipedia.

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 99


“Olatz…?” began Maite.

The woman smiled at her. “Marina. I’m in here.”

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!

“Marina, then. What is this place?”

Marina/Olatz looked out beyond where Maite and Kepa were sitting at the array of people working at their various desks and stations. She sighed. “It’s the resistance.”

“Resistance?” asked Kepa. “Against what? It seems so perfect out there. So clean. So lush. All of the technology is wonderful.”

Marina nodded. “On the surface, it certainly is. And, admittedly, almost everyone lives a health, productive life. But there is an element of control to make all of this happen. The cost of all of this is a loss of autonomy, of privacy.”

“So, you’d all rather throw all of this away to be able to do… what, exactly?” asked Maite.

Marina shrugged. “That’s the thing. It doesn’t matter. We just want the freedom to live our lives without oversight. You saw those drones at the airport. The second anyone steps out of line, there they are. We are always being watched.”

“What do you mean, we, anyways?” asked Kepa. “You aren’t even from this time.”

“No, that’s right,” continued Marina, “but I’ve spent a lot of time here. And de Lancre has been here for a while too.”

“You said that,” said Maite. “Where?”

“He’s part of the government. In fact, all of this surveillance grew when he appeared in the timeline. I believe it’s all because of him and his search for the zatia.”

“Ah,” said Maite, a smile crossing her face. She turned to the group of people behind her. “I think I understand. You don’t care about any resistance. They are your way of finding the zatia, of fighting de Lancre.”

Marina scowled. “Of course I care. This body, Olatz’s body… it is my flesh and blood. I want a future that is better for her.”

“But, you would sacrifice them all in a heartbeat if it meant getting that zatia.”

Marina’s scowl deepened as her face turned red. “What would you have me do? Sacrifice all of reality for them, when the moment we find the zatia it will all reset and they’ll never even know?”

“No, I understand,” said Maite. “Just don’t try to dress your motivations in this noble cause. It’s unbecoming.”

Marina stood, her face scrunched in anger. Some of the resistance fighters closer to where they sat noticed and began murmuring, pointing at Marina, Maite, and Kepa. Marina let out a long breath and sunk back into her chair.

“I’ve been doing this too long,” she said. 

“Look,” interrupted Kepa. “We know how it is. Well, at least a little. It’s hard not to view all of the people in these bubbles as something expendable, when we know the bubble will pop when we find the zatia. But they are still real lives. We have to treat them like real people.”

“De Lancre doesn’t,” replied Marina. “And if he wins…” She left her thoughts unsaid.

Maite nodded. “It will suck. But we can’t allow ourselves to sink to his level. We can’t dehumanize ourselves. Or any victory will be for nought.”

“I used to share your optimism, so many lifetimes ago.” Marina stood again, this time her face calm. “I’m glad you are here. I needed to reconnect with reality.”

Maite nodded as she stood. “So, where is de Lancre exactly?”

If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net if you want to get in touch with me.

Basque Fact of the Week: Kattalin Agirre, Member of the French Resistance

Not long ago, we learned about Florentino Goikoetxea, a mugalari – a smuggler – who helped fugitives cross the French-Spanish border during World War II. Of course, he didn’t act alone. Those fugitives needed a place to stay, and sometimes heal, before they could make the crossing. That was the role of people like Kattalin Agirre. She gave the fugitives a temporary home before they made the trek across the Pyrenees with Florentino. Despite numerous accolades for her efforts, it is surprisingly hard to find much about Kattalin’s life.

Kattalin Aguirre, at the award ceremony for her work with the Comet Line. Photo from Auñamendi Eusko Entziklopedia.
  • Kattalin was born in Sara on August 28, 1897. Her parents were Martin Lamothe and Joséphine Légasse. At a young age — thirteen — Kattalin began working at the Euskalduna Hotel in Ziburu then moved to Paris to work as a maid. In April of 1927, she married Pierre Aguirre and took his surname. Pierre died not long after from the lingering effects of a gas attack in World War I. She moved back to Ziburu and the Euskalduna Hotel, which was run by her cousin Catherine Muruaga. From 1936, she began helping refugees escaping the Spanish Civil War.
  • As World War II broke out, Kattalin used her connections amongst the smugglers in the Pyrenees mountains to help people flee the other direction. As part of the Margot network, she sheltered “children” – a code word for fugitives – in her home, beginning with a request by Marguerite Corysande de Grammont to shelter three such “children.” As part of the Comet line, she sheltered downed airmen, nursing them to health until she could get them to Florentino and across the border. She had a small farmhouse in the foothills of the Pyrenees where she would harbor these fugitives.
  • At some point, she was caught and sent to a concentration camp. She survived and was freed when the Allies liberated the camp.
  • Eventually, her role in the resistance grew beyond sheltering fugitives. She began passing intel to the Nana network, run by the US Office of Strategic Services. Aided by her daughter, 14-year-old Joséphine “Fifine,” she also helped smuggle money and radio equipment across the border.
  • For her efforts, she was recognized multiple times by the French government, receiving the Médaille militaire, the Croix de Guerre, and the Legion of Honour.
  • Kattalin died in Ziburu on July 22, 1992. On her deathbed she said “I didn’t do any more than I had to do.”

Primary sources: Kattalin Aguirre, Wikipedia; Auñamendi Eusko Entziklopedia. Aguirre, Kattalin. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/aguirre-kattalin/ar-154382/; Freedom Trails: Great Escapes from World War I to the Korean War by Terry C Treadwell

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 98


The ladder led down into a subterranean room that, while seemingly ancient, was filled with technology that Maite could never have imagined. The walls were brick, their edges work with age. Bits of mortar flaked off. Maite wondered if the walls could actually support all of the massive infrastructure she had seen above them. The ceiling was high and curved, with arches sweeping across. Maite couldn’t tell if they were decorative or functional.

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!

Lights hung down from the ceiling, illuminating desks and chairs that were filled with people. If Maite hadn’t known better, it almost looked like an office cubicle. Most desks contained someone madly typing away on empty air, or gesticulating on invisible screens in front of them. Others were huddled around what seemed to be some kind of coffee maker. At the far end there was a larger desk with chairs arranged around it. Maite could see someone stand up from behind the desk as she descended the ladder. In fact, all eyes were turned to her.

Her feet hit the ground and she stepped aside as her guide came down next to her. “Over there,” it whispered, pointing to the large desk. The man who had taken Kepa was already leading him in that direction. Maite nodded and followed, keenly aware of all of the people watching her. She noticed that most didn’t wear the flamboyant costumes she had seen on the surface. In fact, most were covered in non-descript robes that hid most of their features. She couldn’t even tell which were male and which were female.

The man half carried, half drug Kepa to the large desk and laid him more gently than Maite expected in one of the large chairs encircling the desk. The figure Maite had noticed before moved around to greet them. “Kaixo!” she said, a smile spread across her puffy face.

In contrast to all of the others in the room, this woman did not wear a cloak, though she was not dressed in any spectacular garb. She was overweight, her clothes, a relatively simple ensemble of a white button-down shirt and black pants, were a little tight against her large frame. Her hair had gone grey with age, though there was a twinkle in her eye that Maite instantly recognized.

“Marina?” she gasped. Kepa, still distracted by his non-functioning leg, looked up, smiling in recognition.

“Marina?” repeated the shadowy figure that had ushered Maite through the tunnels and now stood by her side, shaking its head. “This is Olatz, our leader. Show some respect.”

The woman called Olatz winked at Maite before turning to the figure next to her. “No need to be rude. I’m sure they are a bit disoriented, after all of the commotion. Give us a moment, would you please?”

The figure turned seemingly to look at Kepa and then Maite, though Maite couldn’t see into the hood to actually discern any features. With a huff, the figure and the man that had helped Kepa gave a nod to Olatz before leaving.

If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net if you want to get in touch with me.

Basque Fact of the Week: Mutiloa

Blas Antonio Telleria Goya, my great-grandfather and my namesake, was from Mutiloa, Gipuzkoa. His story is a bit shrouded in mystery – family lore says he was a merchant marine that jumped ship in Argentina and made his way north, but he also appears in the manifests on Ellis Island. In any case, we really have no connection to his past. I’ve been through Mutiloa a few times, trying to get some sense of the place that he came from. It is even smaller than my dad’s home town of Munitibar.

The heart of Mutiloa, photo by Blas Uberuaga.
  • The most widespread theory about the origin of the name of Mutiloa indicates it comes from mutil-ola, meaning “boy’s cabin.” While the Gipuzkoan village is never referred to as Mutilola historically, there is a town Mutiloa in Nafarroa that was in its past.
  • The history of Mutiloa dates back to 1144 when Pedro, the abbot of the monastery of Iratxe in Nafarroa, essentially swapped the estate that the monastery had in Mutiloa with what Pedro Semenones de Góngora had in Azagra. In 1384, Mutiloa became part of Segura, though it separated again in 1615 when the town obtained the title of villa from King Felipe III.
  • Like Munitibar, and maybe a lot of small towns not only in the Basque Country but perhaps around the world, the population of Mutiloa has declined over the last century. In 1900, the town had 517 inhabitants; in 2000, that had dropped to 165 people. In 1970, there were some 290 people living in Mutiloa, all but 2 families of which spoke Euskara.
  • The local economy is primarily agrarian, though the region is also rich in iron and copper. In the 17th and 18th centuries, there was significant mining activity to tap these veins and, in 1986, La Troya mine received a large loan to extract iron and zinc ores, though the mine is now flooded and closed.
  • That said, the area is recognizing and transforming its mining past by creating the Mutiloa Mining Preserve. While trying to recognize the importance of mining to the history of Mutiloa, they are transforming it into a flora and fauna preserve, with wetlands. They are restoring some of the key mining sites, with multiple routes for hiking through the preserve to explore both that history and nature.
  • Mutiloa has two primary local festivals: they celebrate San Pedro on June 29 and the pilgrimage to the hermitage of Liernia on September 8. The Virgin of Lierni is considered a patron of fertility, prompting many to make the pilgrimage, asking for her intercession.
  • In addition to the hermitage, another local attraction is the Errotatxo mill. Designated a Qualified Cultural Heritage Site, the mill dates back to at least 1890, when it was owned by Jose Blas Telleria of Mujika. The last owner was Jose Antonio Alustiza.

Primary sources: Arozamena Ayala, Ainhoa; Cendoya Echániz, Ignacio. MUTILOA. Auñamendi Encyclopedia. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/mutiloa/ar-83595/

Basque Fact of the Week: Sugaar, the Serpent-God Consort of Mari

Much of what the ancient Basques believed about the world around them has been lost to time. Without a written record, we don’t know what beings or deities they worshipped, certainly not to the same extent as the Greek or Norse pantheons. While it seems the Basques believed in a Mother-Earth goddess – Mari – there was a time when she had a companion, an equal, who accompanied her: Sugaar. With the advent of Christianity, he became ever more associated with evil, a being that parents would invoke to scare their misbehaving children.

Iñaki Sendino‘s interpretation of Sugaar.
  • Sugaar, sometimes called Maju, flies across the sky in the shape of a sickle or a crescent of fire and is usually the harbinger of storms. In some places, he is said to be made of pure fire, with no head or tail. In others, he takes the form of lightning. He lives underground, and comes to the surface through the myriad caverns and chasms that are sprinkled across the Basque landscape.
  • However, his name — Sugaar — means male snake. Thus, though he often takes the form of fire or lightning, his true form is of a serpent or dragon. At least one of his homes is the Aralar mountains, the same place where Teodosio de Goñi fought a dragon, possibly suggesting a common origin to the myths.
  • He is considered the consort of Mari. In some places, they say that Sugaar/Maju and Mari meet every Friday, in some places so he can do her hair. In others, they say that, when the two meet, they erupt into a storm.
  • Basque isn’t the only culture with a Mother-Earth like goddess and a Serpent god paired up. In Italy, on Monte Vettore, there is a cave dedicated to the goddess Sibyl that is guarded by a half-man, half-serpent named Macco. The Pelasgians worshipped a godly couple, the Serpent God Ophion and the Earth Mother figure Eurynome. In Near East cultures, there are the Sumerian couples Enki and Damkina and the Hurrian-Hittite Hedammu and Ishtar. This doesn’t prove any connection between the Basque gods and these other deities, but it does highlight the frequency that snake-gods and earth-goddesses have been coupled in the human imagination. It also suggests how old this pairing might be.
  • Sugaar’s visits with Mari typically have a sexual backdrop, suggesting that he is fertilizing Mother Earth. He is the water — the rain or the rivers — that fertilize the ground. Similarly, the union of Ofion and Eurynome gave rise to creation.
  • Today, Mari is seen as the head of the Basque pantheon, but Sugaar may have been her equal in ancient times. Mari’s association with the Virgin Mary and the connection of snakes with evil could have simultaneously elevated Mari and demoted Sugaar. Sugaar’s past importance is also evident in the story of Jaun Zuria, the first lord of Bizkaia, whose lineage reached back to the serpent-god.

Primary sources: Hartsuaga Uranga, Juan Inazio. Sugaar. Auñamendi Encyclopedia. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/sugaar/ar-108780/