Buber’s Basque Story: Part 1

Kepa looked at his watch. He paced a few times across the foyer, glancing out of the open door, and then looked at his watch again. “Where the hell is she?” he muttered to himself. Maite was supposed to pick him up and take him to the fiesta in Aulesti. He knew he should have taken the motorcycle, despite his ama’s warnings.

Buber’s Basque Story 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!

Across the foyer stood the barn. It had been many years since they had kept animals in the barn, but only a generation ago those animals had helped to heat the bedrooms upstairs. Fortunately, at least to Kepa, they had installed heaters. He couldn’t imagine having to keep and tend animals just to have a warm bedroom. 

These days, the foyer was little used. Once every long while, they had big family gatherings at the old baserri and the foyer was the only space big enough where they could put a few tables together for everyone to sit and, more importantly, to hold all of the food that they always seemed to be eating. But, it had been awhile since the family got together like that. The last time was a couple of years ago when his cousin had visited from the United States.

Compared to those feasts, the baserri felt empty most of the time. Kepa shared the huge building with his ama. He had taken it upon himself to fix up the bedrooms, to make them a little more modern — at least he couldn’t see through the cracks between the floorboards any more. He had also put in a new bathroom upstairs and fixed up the kitchen that stood next to the foyer on the ground floor. His ama never stopped cooking and he thought she should at least have a nice place to cook in. He just wished she would turn off the telenovelas when he was around. He could hear one blasting from the kitchen — his ama was a bit hard of hearing — and that just made his mood that much more sour.

“Dammit,” he said, again to no one. “I could have walked and been there by now.” He looked at his watch for what seemed the millionth time. “She was supposed to be here an hour ago!”

“Zer?” yelled his mom from the kitchen. “Zer esan zenuen?”

“Ezer, ama!” he yelled back, trying to be heard over that damn TV. He was about to give up, starting to take off his jacket, when he heard a horn blaring from outside.

Basque Fact of the Week: Etxekoandre, the Mother of the Home

Happy Mother’s Day! In honor of all of the moms out there, this Basque Fact of the Week is about the Etxekoandre, or the Mother of the House. Women have historically held a higher position in Basque society than in many other places, leading some to argue that pre-Christian Basque society was matriarchal, or, at the very least, a society where men and women held positions of importance and power more equally. At the center of this society is the Etxekoandre.

Etxekoandre, by Tomás Ugartemendia, in the plaza Urdanibia in Irun. Image from Wikimedia.
  • When the Romans first arrived in the Basque Country, one of the things they found most shocking was the fact that women were often the keepers of the house, taking care of the home and the surrounding orchards, and even giving their siblings dowries so that they could get married. That women were in control of and distributed the wealth of a household was unknown to the Romans. Strabo, one of those civilized Romans, remarked that the Basque Country had “a sort of woman-rule—not at all a mark of civilization.
  • In contrast to much of the rest of Europe, in the Basque Country, houses were often handed down not to the eldest male, but to the eldest child, including daughters. This difference may be explained by the higher role women held in Basque society. Men were often out, grazing their herds or at sea, and women were the head of domestic life. This increased her dignity and prestige, which, in turn, favored the social and political situation of women within Basque society.
  • The etxekoandre was the owner of the house in many ways. She was the only one with keys to all rooms and no room could be opened without her consent. She kept the healing jars and herbs, as she and her fellow etxekoandreak were the healers of the village (sometimes hunted and persecuted as witches). And, of all of the chairs in the house, hers alone had armrests. When she was near death, she passed this chair to the next woman to become the next etxekoandre of the house.
  • She was responsible for keeping communion with the ancestors of the house. She represented the house in the yarleku that she owned in the parish Church, as well as in the grave, and presided over the sacred acts and ceremonies that take place there, including keeping the light of the argizaiola.
  • As the domestic priestess, the etxekoandre was also the one who took care of the dead. She prepared the corpse — closing its eyes, washing the body with holy water, dressing it — and she organized all of the funeral activities.

Primary sources: Matriarcado vasco: historia de un territorio en el que ellas han mandado siempre by Maialen Ferreira in El Diario; Auñamendi Entziklopedia. ETXEKOANDRE. Enciclopedia Auñamendi, 2020. Available at: http://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/es/etxekoandre/ar-35519/; “La baserritarra en el caserio vasco” by Pedro Berriochoa Azcarate, in Jornaleras, campesinas y agricultoras. La historia agraria desde una perspectiva de genero, edited by Ortega López, Teresa María.

Basque Fact of the Week: The History of the Basques in the West

Since at least the time of the Spanish conquests, Basques have been a feature of the American West. Basques were a big part of the Spanish armies that rolled over South America, Mexico, and southwestern United States. They came later as well, after the Carlist Wars, after the gold rush of the mid-1800s, and in the aftermath of World War II to help fill labor shortages. An untold number of Basques established roots in the American West and Basque names dot the landscape. Sol Silen’s The History of the Basques in the West was an early attempt to document some of that history.

Blas Telleria and Ines Eiguren as pictured in The History of the Basques in the West.
  • La Historia de los Vascongados en el Oeste, or The History of the Basques in the West in English, is a curious book. In some ways, it is a who’s-who of the Basque families living in various parts of Idaho, Oregon, and Nevada during the beginning of the 1900s. Biographies and photos of Basque men and women fill the three volumes but, as with the modern who’s-who books, it has a feel of not objective history but individual promotion.
  • The original was written primarily in Spanish in 1917, but the Basque Museum and Cultural Center in Boise, through the hard work of Aintzane Gonzalez, translated it into English, almost exactly 100 years later in 2018. Both versions appear online on the Basque Museum’s website.
  • My namesake, Blas Telleria, his wife Ines Eiguren, and their son Jose Telleria (my grandfather) are all pictured in the book. Blas is described as a “tenacious, young man with an unwavering purpose” who combined “excellent judgement and great integrity.”
  • Not much is known about the author, Sol. He seems to have been born in Russia, though moved to the United States at a young age with his parents. He eventually made his way west and somehow grew attached to the Basques, possibly via the sheep industry. In addition to writing The History of the Basques in the West, he also defended the Basques in the media, penning a letter to the Reno-Gazette Journal in 1916 defending the Basques against attacks by Senator Key Pittman, who had called them “nothing but a sheepherder.”

Primary source: The Basque Museum and Cultural Center.

Basque Fact of the Week: Resurrección María de Azkue

Despite the ancient origins of the language, it is only recently that Euskara, or Basque, has received the academic and literary attention that other languages have enjoyed for a long time. Much of what led to the current growth and strength that the language enjoys today began over a century ago with, for example, the creation of the Euskaltzaindia — the Basque language academy — in 1919. The first head of the academy was Resurrección María de Azkue, who was once called by Basque scholar Antonio Tovar “the great witness of the popular traditions of the Basques.”

A younger Azkue, image from Wikipedia.
  • Resurrección de Jesús María de las Nieves Azkue Aberasturi Barrundia Uribarri, or Azkue as he is commonly referred to, was born in 1864 in Lekeitio. His father, Eusebio María Dolores, was a poet and his mother, María del Carmen Aberásturi, was a living font of Basque expressions and idioms. As a result, Azkue grew up with a love of Euskara.
  • Though his education started off with nautical studies in his native Lekeitio, he was called to a religious life, and though never actually practicing as a priest, he studied Philosophy and Theology in Vitoria and then Sacred Scripture and Canon Law in Salamanca. He eventually made his way to Brussels and Cologne to complete his studies in music.
  • In 1888 the Bizkaia Provincial Council created a chair of Basque at the Bilbao Institute. Azkue won the position and held it until the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War in 1936. In 1918, the first Basque Studies Congress was held in Oñate, where the Euskaltzaindia was created. Soon, Azkue was elected President, a position he held until his death.
  • Azkue’s impact on Basque studies and, more specifically, the Basque language cannot be overstated. He touched all aspects of Basque culture, from music and theater to religious literature and journalism. His four most important works are his Diccionario Vasco-Español-Francés, Cancionero Popular Vasco, Morfología Vasca, and Euskaleriaren Yakintza, the last of which is a compilation of Basque lore that spans four volumes and includes stories, folklore, customs, and sayings. (Is there an English translation?!?) Many of the proverbs in Jon Aske’s list are from Azkue’s book.
  • Perhaps his greatest impact was on the language itself. He was a proponent of Gipuzkera Osatua, a kind of “complete” Basque in the Gipuzkoa dialect. His novels, including Ardi Galdua, were written in Gipuzkera Osatua. Gipuzkera Osatua can be viewed as a forerunner of Euskara Batua, the unified Basque that is now spoken widely in Euskal Herria.
  • On October 14, 1951, Azkue fell into the Nervión river, in front of the Arriaga Theater. Drawn from the waters by a worker, he died weeks later on November 9, 1951.

Primary sources: Villasante Cortabitarte, Luis. Azkue Aberasturi, Resurrección María. Enciclopedia Auñamendi, 2020. Available at: http://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/es/azkue-aberasturi-resurreccion-maria/ar-1368/; Wikipedia.

Learning Euskara Remotely

I spent the 1991-92 school year in Donostia, with the goal of learning Euskara. I took a semester of intense Euskara classes, essentially completing two years of coursework in that one semester. My teacher, Nekane, was ever-so patient with all of my questions, my delving into the minutia of why this word went there, questions I never asked about my native English. I wanted to know why Euskara was structured the way it was, why those words meant what they did. It was a wonderful experience.

It was also a squandered opportunity. I didn’t learn nearly as much as I wish I had. Instead of practicing my newly earned language skills with native speakers, I hung out in bars with fellow Americans drinking kalimotxo and playing foosball. I spent nearly every weekend with my dad’s family in Bizkaia and, while you might think that would have been a great chance to practice my budding language skills, their Bizkairaz was so different from the Batua I was learning in class that I couldn’t really communicate with them effectively. It was so much easier to just break into Spanish, even though my Spanish was at a rudimentary high-school level.

My one big regret from that trip is that I didn’t master the language. And life since then has seen me master the language of math and physics in pursuit of my career with no time to revisit Euskara.

For some of us, COVID-19 brings an opportunity to fill in some of those gaps that we’ve always wished we had time to fill. I can’t say I’m one of them, as I’m lucky enough to still be able to do my job full time. But, for those of you who might have some extra time on your hands, maybe learning a little bit of Basque is in the cards.

I was recently asked about what resources there were for learning Basque online or remotely (thank you Vicki for asking the question!). If you are lucky enough to live near one of the larger Basque clubs, they may have resources available. For example, Txoko Ona, the Basque Club in my hometown of Homedale, has offered Basque language classes. But, if you are more isolated than even Homedale, far from any Euskaldunak that you can learn and practice the language with, there are a few resources online that might help.

First, in nice bit of serendipity, Hella Basque! has begun her own trek into improving her Euskara skills. She is sharing her adventures on her YouTube channel. As she explores learning Euskara, she is sharing some of the resources she has come across.

Unfortunately, there is no Duolingo for Euskara yet. There is a petition and multi-year effort, with volunteers at the ready, to try to make this happen. The more upvotes they get for this petition, the greater the chance a course might be made. If so inclined, check it out. As part of that effort, they have compiled their own list of Euskara-learning resources that may prove valuable for new learners.

Memrise has a course teaching some very basic vocabulary. As a starting point, this might hit the spot. Another Memrise course, Nire hitzak, adds even more vocabulary. And one more, Basic Basque, goes into grammar a bit more.

Ikasten.net has an online course for English speakers (as well as others) to learn Euskara. I haven’t tried it, so can’t comment on how good it might be, but I’m thinking of checking it out. Some of the online comments say that people who have completed this course come away with a very good mastery of the language.

Gorka Ioseba has a PDF course that you can download for free.

Bagoaz has an app from GooglePlay to teach aspects of Euskara.

There are also a few YouTube videos to help teach basics. For example, Zuhaitz has a series of videos teaching fundamentals of Euskara while Easy Basque has a series that goes into the grammar. And, keeping with online videos, Euskaragara has a series that go into some detail about some Basque words.

There are some great online dictionaries. My favorite, for English-Basque, is by Mikel Morris. I have his pocket dictionary at home, but his online Morris Student Plus is certainly convenient and, seemingly to me, very complete. Elhuyar also has an online dictionary, with translation between Euskara and Spanish, English, and French. Together, these two dictionaries should have you covered.

Sorgina Txirulina has stories in Euskara aimed for younger readers. The goal is to have simpler stories but completely in Euskara to both practice reading and comprehension. At least for some stories, they have audio files so you can hear the pronunciation.

If what you really need is practice, there are a few online places you can go. Mintzanet connects Basque speakers all over the world, of different skill levels, so that you can practice real time with actual speakers. There is also a Discord channel bringing together Basque speakers. I’ve never used Discord so don’t have a clue about how effective this is. But, if what you really need is to hear the language, these two resources might be perfect.

I hope these help. If anyone knows of other online resources, please share!

Basque Fact of the Week: The War of the Bands

It’s the late 1300s. The Castilian Civil War just ended and families in the Basque Country are jockeying for political power in the vacuum left behind. Old feuds that have simmered for centuries ignite. Families build towers to fortify their lands and their surroundings. The aide (or ahaide) nagusiak, the leading kinsmen, gather strength. War erupts between two families and their associated allies. This is the War of the Bands.

La pacificación de los bandos oñacino y gamboíno ante el corregidor Gonzalo Moro en 1394, painted by José Echenagusía around 1902, and on display in Museo de Bellas Artes de Álava.
  • The war began as a series of street fights, first in Bilbao in 1362 and later in the markets of Bermeo in 1413, between the Legizamon and Zurbarán families. Other actors joined in and fighting continued in earnest until at least 1433. Other families fought each other, including an alliance of the Gamboas, the Alzates, and the Baldas in Gipzkuoa who fought Juan de Saint Pedro and his allies the Oñaz and the Lezcano. As men died and fortresses burned on both sides, new feuds developed.
  • The main source we have about the War of the Bands comes from one Lope García de Salazar and his Las Bienandanças e fortunasBook of Luck and Happy Chances. Written near the end of his life, this 25-volume work traces the history of the world, from the creation through Israel, Greece and Rome, to Spain, and ultimately to the events of his own life. He played a large role in the War of the Bands and his accounts are one of our best sources for medieval Basque history.
  • The war, or maybe more properly blood feuds, was an attempt by the aide nagusiak, the leading kinsmen or elder relatives, to exert that status to consolidate power and form a local nobility. By leveraging ties of kinship through land and its production, these elders tried to create their own fiefdoms, but were only moderately successful, becoming, at best, “lords without lordships,” or lords without formal titles.
  • While the Wars started out as inter-family fighting, as the self-proclaimed lords tried to exert power over surrounding towns, it seems to have evolved into a rural-vs-urban conflict. As these lords tried to control their neighboring towns, those towns, which had a very different view of social order and commercial development, pushed back. This ultimately led to the governing boards, or juntas generals, gaining authority within the cities.
  • It can be argued (as it is by José Ángel Achón Insausti) that, through this process of first men exerting power and then cities responding by establishing their own authority, the Basque concepts of universal nobility and self-government that are central to the fueros came to be.

Primary sources: Wikipedia; Achón Insausti, José Ángel; Las Guerras de Bandos. Enciclopedia Auñamendi, 2020. Available at: http://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/es/las-guerras-de-bandos/ar-153913/

Basque Fact of the Week: Basque Ideophones

This week, a little bit of whimsy. Ideophones (also known as onomatopoeias) are words whose sound invokes the idea of the meaning of the word. Some examples in English are bang, boom, and splish-splash (and yes, I already took a bath). These are often used in comics as their sound conveys action, like Batman’s pow! and bam! Basque is full of these types of words. In a recent research article, Iraide Ibarretxe Antuñano analyzed some Basque ideophones, particularly from the point of view of their structure, meaning and function. Here are some of my favorites.

A comic by Alai Zubimendi highlighting a few Basque ideophones.
  • aiko-maiko: fuss, excuse, doubt
  • balan-balan: move clumsily
  • barranbila-birrinbala: noise, racket
  • binbili-bonbolo: gently, ding-dong, rocking
  • birrin-birrin: devastate, tear
  • bolo-bolo: spreading
  • bro-bro: boil hard
  • ddalanddal: totally full
  • dzarra-dzarra: scribble, doodle
  • firri-farra: spinning wheel, follishly
  • fits-mits:speck
  • gexa-mexa: weak
  • grik-grak: crackling
  • gur-gur: stream, grown
  • kluka-kluka: in gulps
  • nir-nir: gleam, twinkling (listed as dir-dir in the Morris Student Plus Basque Dictionary)
  • nistiki-nastaka: hodgepodge, jumble
  • pil-pil: simmer (as in Basque cod al pil pil)
  • plasta-plasta: crashing down
  • taparra-taparra: walk fast
  • tibiribiri-tibiribiro: chattering away
  • traka-traka: walk, trot
  • trinkilin-trankulun: swinging
  • triki-triki: walk slowly
  • ttapa-ttapa: walk with small steps
  • ttirri-tturru: trill, warbling
  • txart-txart: punish
  • tzillo-tzallo: shuffle
  • xinta-minta: whining, whispering
  • xirimiri: small jobs, drizzle (one of my favorite words and most appropriate for the Basque Country)
  • xuxu-muxu: whispering
  • zinkurina-minkurina: complaints, groans
  • ziltzi-maltza: mess
  • zirt-zart: slashing, crackling

Basque Fact of the Week: Basque Science Innovation

The Basque Country has always been known for its industriousness, from master shipbuilding and navigation to the steel industry that made Bilbao so famous. Transitioning into the 21st century, the Basque Autonomous Community has pushed hard to establish a more modern base to the economy, including investing in and promoting basic science. One of the more visible consequences of that push are the Cooperative Research Centers.

Image from CIC nanoGUNE’s Facebook page from an article in the journal Science showing how graphene — atomically thin layers of carbon — can be used to bend light.
  • The CICs — Centros de Investigación Cooperativa or Cooperative Research Centers — are research labs that each focus on a particular scientific domain. The goal is to bring together researchers in a given area to enhance the scientific productivity of the group as a whole. Originally, there were seven such centers around the Basque Autonomous Community (the provinces of Gipuzkoa, Bizkaia, and Araba) focusing on research in areas such as batteries, nanotechnology, and biomedicine. Today, four CICs are still going strong.
  • CIC nanoGUNE, located in Donostia, was founded in 2006 with the mission of promoting nanotechnology, both fundamental science and the transfer of ideas and technology to industry. Nanoscience is the science of the very small: from 0.1 to 100 nanometers. At this scale, matter starts to behave differently, with quantum mechanical effects becoming ever more important. The goal of nanoscience is to harness those effects to develop new materials for use in our every day lives.
  • CIC bioGUNE is located in Bilbao and has the goal of developing more precise and specialized medicines. They do this by exploring the interface between chemistry and biology with a focus both on host-pathogen interactions and the metabolism of cells. Their scientific activities “concentrates on discovering the molecular bases and mechanisms of disease to create new diagnostic and prognostic methods, promoting the development of advanced therapies.”
  • CIC biomaGUNE is another bio-focused center, this one located in Donostia. However, biomaGUNE focused more on biomaterials, the intersection between materials science and biology. They have a diverse portfolio of scientific activities, ranging from bionanoplasmonics and glycotechnology to various experimental facilities that focus on characterization of these materials.
  • CIC energiGUNE is focused on energy materials. Located in the Alava Technology Park outside of Vitoria-Gasteiz, they are developing new materials for energy storage. Think of batteries. But energiGUNE is studying other types of energy storage as well, including supercapacitors and thermal storage devices. The ultimate goal is to develop new materials that can help us distribute the energy that powers our modern world.
  • Three other centers, CIC marGUNE, CIC tourGUNE, and CIC microGUNE, were part of the original initiative to create these centers of excellence but seem to have been closed. marGUNE was focused on manufacturing while tourGUNE was dedicated to tourism and mobility of people. microGUNE was focused on microtechnology.

Basque Fact of the Week: Paulino Uzcudun, the “Basque Woodchopper”

My dad’s favorite sport to watch was boxing. I never asked him why (so many questions were never asked…) but I always assumed that it was because, of the sports on our American TV, boxing was the most straightforward, something he didn’t have to grow up with to understand, unlike American football. However, I recently learned about Paulino Uzcudun and now I wonder if maybe my dad had known about him and that is where is love of boxing came from…

Paulino Uzcudun, the “Basque Woodchopper.” Photo from Wikipedia.
  • Paulino Uzcudun was born in the Gurutze baserria in the town of Errezil, Gipuzkoa, in 1899. Even as a child, he was known for his immense strength. When his father died, he left home, eventually becoming a butcher in Donosti. In his youth, he became known as an excellent aizkolari, or woodchopper, hence his eventually boxing nickname.
  • In 1923, after completing his military service, he went to Paris to begin his professional boxing career. During his career, he became heavyweight champion first of Spain, in 1924, and then latter of Europe, in 1926. He began boxing in the United States in 1927.
  • He had many memorable bouts during his career, facing off with heavyweight champions including Max Baer (who he beat) and Primo Carnera (who he lost to twice). Perhaps the pinnacle of his career occurred in Yankee Stadium on June 27, 1929. Uzcudun lost a semi-final bout for a chance at the world title, losing in points after 15 rounds, to the German Max Schmeling, who later won the title. He would go on to fight Schmeling two more times, drawing once and losing their last bout.
  • The newspaper writer Grantland Rice wrote these stanzas about Uzcudun in 1929, emphasizing Uzcudun’s stocky and rugged stance:
This axman from the Pyrennees 
Is tougher than his native trees. 
And no man yet has made [him] run, 
I mean Paolino Uzcudun. 


He has a large and hairy paw, 
They break their fists upon his jaw; 
For socking rock is not much fun, 
I mean Paolino Uzcudun. 


He has a chest built like a cask, 
This heavy, thick-set, burly Basque, 
Who grins to see his claret run, 
I mean Paolino Uzcudun.
  • Paulino’s last fight, in 1935, was with Joe Louis, the famous “Brown Bomber”. Louis was a brutal fighter and Uzcudun was at the sunset of his career. Louis stopped Uzcudun in the 4th round with blows that Columnist Jim Murray later described: “Louis knocked Uzcudun’s gold teeth in so many directions, the ring looked as if somebody had stepped on a railroad watch.” It was the first time, in his 70 professional fights, that Uzcudun had been knocked off his feet.

Thanks to Eneko Sagarbide for introducing me to Paulino.

Primary sources: Boxing.com: Some Like it Hot, by Mike Casey; Wikipedia; Arozamena Ayala, Ainhoa. UZCUDUN, Paulino. Enciclopedia Auñamendi, 2020. Available at: http://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/es/uzcudun-paulino/ar-136928/

Basque Fact of the Week: Félix Erausquin, a Champion Thrower

Basques like to lift and carry heavy things. Basques like to cut up logs. Basques like to pull on ropes. And some Basques like to throw things. Perhaps the best thrower of things in Basque history was Félix Erausquin Erausquin. Born in Zeanuri, Bizkaia in 1907, Erausquin was one of the most decorated athletes of his time.

Félix Erausquin, image from the blog Atletismo e Historia.
  • In his prime, Erausquin was champion of Spain in multiple sports that involved throwing objects. From 1932 to 1957, he won a total of 27 championships in shot put, discus, Basque bar, and the javelin. He is only one of only four athletes (the other three being García Tuñón, Ignacio Izaguirre and Miguel de la Quadra-Salcedo) who held Spanish titles in 3 out of 4 of the throwing events.
  • He was set to attend the 1936 Olympics, held in Berlin, but due to political upheavals ongoing in Spain at the time, he was unable to go. His first international competition didn’t come until 1948, when he competed in the London Olympics in discus, finishing 14th out of 28 at an age of 41. He continued to compete into his 70s and won the senior World Championship in discus in 1979. At an age of 72, he threw it 39.44 meters.
  • He is perhaps most famous for developing an entirely novel way of throwing the javelin, a style that became known as the Erausquin style. Based on how he threw the Basque bar, in this new technique, the thrower spun around, giving extra heft to the javelin. In 1956, when he was 48 years old, he set a new Spanish record in the javelin with relative ease using his new technique. Also using this new style, Migual de la Quadra Salcedo beat the world record and, for the first time, threw the javelin more than 100 meters. However, within a year regulations were changed to ban this new technique, because of the dangers it posed by inexperienced throwers facing the audience as they spun. None of the records using the Erausquin style became official.
  • Palanka jaurtiketa, or metal bar throwing and often referred to as barra vasca, is a traditional Basque rural sport inspired by miners in which a heavy metal bar (8-25 kg or 17-55 pounds) is thrown as far as possible. While multiple throwing techniques exist, one is to turn or spin as it is thrown.
  • Erausquin was also an accomplished boxer and his large hands led to the nickname “la coz de mula” or “mule kick.” His hands were so large that, when he played the piano, he had to use the sides of his fingers or he’d hit two keys at the same time.

Thanks to Eneko Sagarbide, Félix’s great nephew, for educating me about Félix.

Primary sources: García Martínez de Murguia, José María. ERAUSQUIN ERAUSQUIN, Félix. Enciclopedia Auñamendi, 2020. Available at: http://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/es/erausquin-erausquin-felix/ar-39685/; Wikipedia.