Euskadi, History

Vince J. Juaristi: Intertwined: The Tail of the Comet

3 Comments

As part of the buildup to the Smithsonian Folklife Festival celebrating the Basque culture, Vince Juaristi is writing a series of articles highlighting the connections between the Basques and Americans. He has graciously allowed me to repost those articles as they appear on Buber’s Basque Page.

Sprawled between the Washington Monument and the U.S. Capitol, the Smithsonian hosts the National Folklife Festival each year. Hundreds of thousands attend from across America and around the world to study and learn about diverse cultures in the United States. From June 29-July 4 and July 7-10, 2016, this year’s festival will showcase the Basque. In the lead up to this important event, we are publishing a series of historical and human interest articles that demonstrate how Americans and the Basque have crossed paths for centuries. An introductory article ran in January. Additional articles will run monthly through June 2016. We call the series, “Intertwined“.

The Tail of the Comet
By Vince J. Juaristi

Florentino Goicoechea (Basque: Florentino Goikoextea) lived in a 24-mile stretch of land between Hernani, Gipuzkoa, Spain, and Ciboure, France. He grew up in a small farm house without electricity or plumbing, hunted antelope and big-horned sheep in the hills south of San Sebastían, and fished the Bidassoa River that traced the Spanish-French border. He knew the Pyrenees that ran like a zipper from the Bay of Biscay to the Mediterranean with more than 50 alternating teeth peaking above 10,000 feet. He knew the sounds of night and day and the animals that growled, chirped, snarled, or hissed in the dense foliage and jagged rock along the high mountain passes. He had no formal schooling, only the knowledge afforded by these 24-miles, but it was this familiarity most of all that came to serve America and the Allies during World War II.Florentino%20Goikoetxea

Florentino began to apply his knowledge and skill as a smuggler against Franco during Spain’s Civil War in 1936. Wearing a black beret not a helmet and carrying a walking stick or fishing pole not a gun, he crisscrossed the border to deliver secrets between commanders in the field and Basque exiles in France. If Franco’s soldiers, the Guardia Civil, spotted him, he smiled and passed as a harmless peasant in search of a meal; the soldiers would nod and go back to their patrol.

Despite his skullduggery, the Republic fell to Franco’s forces by 1939. Wary of going home, he settled in Ciboure, where he happily took up a quiet solitary life of hunting, fishing, and hiking on the French side of the Pyrenees.

Months later, his calm was shattered as it was for all Europeans when Germany’s invasion of Poland sparked World War II. The effects of war did not reach him for six months, and then only as reports in newspapers filled with shocking details of massacre and tragedy. Later, when food shortages forced rationing of eggs, cheese, potatoes, and wine, he smuggled supplies for himself and neighbors.

As a Basque man from Spain, a neutral country during the war, he was never called into military service. Still he felt he had to fight. His few words on the matter suggest that opposing Germany would vindicate the earlier loss to Franco, though no one may ever know his true motivation.

After France surrendered to Germany, Florentino found his calling. He learned of a kind of underground railroad called Réseau Comète – the Comet Line – that held as its motto, “Fighting Without Arms.” It smuggled downed Allied pilots safely from Brussels to Paris, but once Germany occupied France, it had to escort a pilot beyond Paris, across the Pyrenees, into neutral Spain to get him home.

The first guide for this dangerous journey had been caught and arrested. Who, then, would fill the vacancy? Who would escort these American, British, Canadian, and Australian pilots over the treacherous Pyrenees and deliver them safely home? Who would dare defy these Nazis and the Guardia Civil?

Only one man had the knowledge, skill, and cunning to pick up the cause – Florentino Goicoechea.

Every day Florentino walked across a bridge that connected his new home of Ciboure with St. Jean de Luz, and then drank wine or ate a meal at the Euskalduna Hotel. A mother-daughter pair worked there whom he had known since the Spanish Civil War. He marveled still at their sneaky talents. They hovered near tables to watch, hear, absorb, and convey secrets while serving drinks or clearing dishes. As much as Florentino was master of the Pyrenees, these two were masters of subterfuge which turned the Euskalduna into a kind of central nervous system for the French resistance in the south.

Florentino did not know when the pair talked with operatives of Comet, or when a downed pilot might require escort. In truth, he knew little of a pilot’s difficult journey up to the point he met him.

A pilot typically traveled by train or bus from Paris to Bayonne and then pedaled a bicycle sixteen miles to the St. Jean de Luz railroad station. He waited inside a bathroom stall until nightfall and then slipped out a side-door that opened to an alley. Concealed by the shadows for about 500 feet, he entered Euskalduna where the mother and daughter whisked him to a room or another safehouse.

The next day while drinking his wine or sipping his soup, Florentino would hear a whisper, “Expect a package.”

He watched the Ciboure Bridge at midnight for the unmistakable signs of a foreigner, usually a nervous man all alone or two men anxiously whispering and white-knuckling the rail of the bridge. With the stealth of a cat, Florentino sneaked up and quickly drew the one or the pair off the bridge into the shadows.

With the spryness of a younger man, he led them along the N10 road and then uphill into the tall grasses and thick pine and spruce around Ciboure. “It was everything I could do to keep up,” said one flier from Ohio. For nearly three miles, the pace never slowed until they arrived at one of three safehouses in Urrugne – Tomásénéa, Bidegain Berri, or Yatxu Baita.

Florentino knew the farmhouse owners. A wife of a French POW ran the first, a widow the second, and a single father with twelve children the third. Each risked all they had to help him. He alternated his visits to reduce suspicion on any one.

Already exhausted, fliers received warm milk at the farmhouse. Then each was outfitted as a Basque peasant with chord-roped espadrilles, blue workman’s clothes, and a black beret. He also received a Benzedrine pill to boost his energy. As soon as the milk bowls were licked clean, Florentino handed each flier a walking stick, and then he squinted and thrust his chin, for he was a man of few words, and they returned to the night.

In complete darkness, they climbed Mont du Calvaire. It was not high, but steep, burning thighs and calves with each step. At the peak, they collapsed, but Florentino pushed them beyond their limits, up a steeper mountain that the Basque call Xoldokogaina.

They climbed for more than two hours, sometimes on all fours over sharp rock, through pines and across shallow brooks, falling into holes, stumbling over branches, scraping arms and legs. A foot or two ahead were Florentino’s heels and if a flier lost sight of them and panicked, a sudden strong hand pulled him up and forward moving him on.

“There was a kind of peace at the top,” said one Ohio flier surveying the landscape from 5,200 feet. In the calm of this blackest night, they could hear the Bidassoa River in the distance and see the hazy glow of Fuentarabia, Irún and San Sebastían.

Yet between this high tranquility and the lights of freedom were German patrols and Franco’s Guardia Civil.

Florentino crouched with the pilots on Xoldokogaina to catch his breath and rest his legs and wipe sweat from his cheeks. They waited for the guards to change shifts at about 3 a.m. which opened gaps in the security. Then they descended as quickly as they could, sometimes in a slide, to the footpaths of Col des Poiriers.

Here was the most dangerous point in the journey. The terrain afforded little passable ground besides the trails, so they had to jog in the open, breathing heavily, risking exposure and capture. “I was scared as hell,” said a flier from Washington.

The exposure lasted only a few moments until they dipped into the winding Lantzetta Erreka creekbed that ended at San Miguel near the river separating France and Spain.

The Bidassoa River was unpredictable. In winter, it froze over for easy crossing, or froze enough that a man could hop from floe to floe. In summer, it rose in places to the knees. But in spring, it often swelled its banks, forcing Florentino and the fliers to strip and swim with clothes in a plastic bag or held over their heads as the water lapped their armpits. If they heard barking, they had to swim fully clothed.

Up the opposite bank they scrambled on to Spanish soil. By 5 a.m. a crisp dawn had cracked the horizon behind them. Lying on their bellies in the tall grasses, they listened for the Guardia Civil that had barracks only 1,200 feet downstream. Florentino expected the soldiers to be sleeping, not patrolling, and sure enough several fliers reported hearing snoring nearby.

They crept past the slumbering guards over a railroad and across the Irún-Pamplona road. It was a “steep and exhausting climb to Erlaitz,” wrote one flier. Every step was taken in stealth, yet every kicked pebble or snapped limb sounded like a pistol shot.

The terrain eased after Erlaitz and so, too, their anxiety. Florentino led them along old mining tracks to the Sarobe Farm, and for the first time in hours, they felt cautiously safe. The farmer served eggs and cheese, wine and bread. The fliers untied their espadrilles to air their bruised and blistered feet and soak them in salt water.

After resting an hour and pulling on new socks and shoes, they walked two hours over meadow and quiet pasture and well-kept roads.

In Renteria, Florentino bought tickets for the tram and he and the fliers boarded like ordinary commuters. None of the riders that morning knew how treacherous the last 10 hours had been for these dirty-faced, haggard strangers.

In twenty minutes, the tram stopped in Hernani, Florentino’s birthplace, where he took the fliers to a safehouse owned by an old friend of the family.

Then he bid them goodbye.

He never knew their names, nor they his. His daring acts were carried out anonymously – to know a name presented undue risk. He continued escorting fliers across his 24-mile stretch of land until D-Day and the liberation of France in August 1944. He never lost a pilot nor was any pilot captured under his care.

From the Hernani safehouse, the fliers traveled easily to San Sebastían and then to the British Consulate in Bilbao. Under Allied protection, the men made their way to Gibraltar in the south for passage home.

The Comet Line saved over 700 American, British, Canadian, and Australian pilots. Of those, Florentino Goicoechea had a hand in leading 207 over the Pyrenees to safety. While some hung up their wings to enjoy the comforts of home, others returned to the fight. Even though they did not know his name, the fliers wrote thank you notes, never forgetting the kind and quiet man who guided them over the mountains.

After the war, Florentino remained a wanted man by Franco’s Guardia Civil, so his deeds went unrecognized for most of his life. Yet when Franco died in November 1975, Florentino emerged from the shadows of Ciboure to receive widespread recognition in both France and Spain. He was also honored in England at Buckingham Palace, where he received the George Cross for gallantry and bravery. During the ceremony, he was asked, “What is it that you actually do?” In broken English, he replied, “I am in the import-export business.”

———————-
56a1aaae98dc1.imageVince J. Juaristi was born and raised in Elko, NV. He is CEO and President of ARBOLA, a technology company, in Alexandria, VA. His newest book, Basque Firsts: People Who Changed the World, will be released this year by the University of Nevada Press.

Please donate to help the young people of the Great Basin Basque Program attend the Smithsonian event this summer. All donations are tax deductible and you will receive a receipt. Go to: http://www.campusce.net/gbcnv/course/course.aspx?c=246

If you would like to help the young people of the Great Basin Basque Program in other ways, contact Angie deBraga at Great Basin College. angie.debraga@gbcnv.edu.

Diaspora, Euskadi, Fiestas, History, People, Politics

Vince J. Juaristi: Intertwined: John Adams Encounters the Basque

1 Comment

As part of the buildup to the Smithsonian Folklife Festival celebrating the Basque culture, Vince Juaristi is writing a series of articles highlighting the connections between the Basques and Americans. He has graciously allowed me to repost those articles as they appear on Buber’s Basque Page.

Sprawled between the Washington Monument and the U.S. Capitol, the Smithsonian hosts the National Folklife Festival each year. Hundreds of thousands attend from across America and around the world to study and learn about diverse cultures in the United States. From June 29-July 4 and July 7-10, 2016, this year’s festival will showcase the Basque. In the lead up to this important event, we are publishing a series of historical and human interest articles that demonstrate how Americans and the Basque have crossed paths for centuries. An introductory article ran in January. Additional articles will run monthly through June 2016. We call the series, “Intertwined“.

John Adams Encounters the Basque
By Vince J. Juaristi

“Providence has favored me, with a very unexpected Visit to Spain,” wrote John Adams to his friend, James Lovell, on December 16, 1779. Over the next month, this landing on Spanish soil would test Adams like few journeys in his life, and yet afford him a surprise glimpse of the Basque, a people with such “a High and independent spirit, so essentially different from the other Provinces” that he would recall them years later during America’s struggle for a new constitution.56b5198375078.image

Weeks earlier, as battles raged along America’s eastern seaboard, Adams had left Boston harbor for Paris to begin dialogue for a peace accord. His ship, the Sensible, had run into a nor’easter two days out and sprung a terrible leak that forced all aboard to man the pumps day and night. After three thousand miles of winter weather on the Atlantic, the water-logged and rotting Sensible, manned by a desperate and exhausted crew had put into port at El Ferrol off the northern tip of Spain.

With peace possible and the fate of American, English, and French lives resting on his shoulders, Adams could not spare several months for ship repairs, so he decided to travel the nearly 900 miles over land to reach Paris. All the Spanish officials at El Ferrol assured him that his plan was a prudent course. The hospitality on the way was the finest in the world, they told him, the journey an easy excursion through lush countryside, even in December. It sounded very much like a vacation.

Determined and confident, Adams gathered his sons, John Quincy and Charles, and a few escorts, and headed out a day after Christmas 1779 in a caravan of thirteen mules like Don Quixotes from the New World.

Much of Spain at the time resembled what Adams had spent a lifetime fighting in Boston and then Philadelphia. Nearly all of the country fell under a trident of power. First, a monarchy levied taxes, drafted fathers and sons into Spain’s never-ending wars, and ruled by royal decree without election or the consent of the people.

A second prong was the clergy who had erected in town after town massive cathedrals, and then collected heavy tithing for their upkeep. Failure to tithe, warned the clergy, condemned a commoner to perdition’s flame. Most paid, and had paid for centuries, keeping peasants as peasants, destitute and powerless. Though a devout man, Adams saw through this ruse commenting, “Nothing appears rich but the Churches, nobody fat, but the Clergy.”

The noblemen comprised the third prong. They commanded vast lands and ships that kings and queens of the past had bestowed on their ancestral lines in exchange for political loyalty and obedience. The nobles imposed fees for the privilege of using their lands or ships to grow bread, catch cod, or build homes for families.

This trident of king, clergy, and nobles acted like a devil’s fork to draw life and blood from the people much like King George of England and the noblemen under his reign plagued the American colonies. “I see nothing but Signs of Poverty and Misery,” Adams wrote. “A fertile Country, not half cultivated, People ragged and dirty, and the Houses universally nothing but Mire, Smoke, Fleas and Lice….No Simptoms of Commerce, or even of internal Trafic, no Appearance of manufactures or Industry.”

Along the path, mile after mile, this gloom did not let up, not for a moment. From El Ferrol through Galicia, León, and Castille, the scarcity of terrain and the poverty of people weighed on Adams, his sons, and his party. The taverns offered little accommodation, so each man carried his own blankets and sheets, food and water, flint and steel.

In the December chill, he hoped only for a comforting fire at night, but even that simple luxury eluded him. “I have not seen a Chimney in Spain,” he wrote. Whenever a fire was lit, the room filled with smoke and soot, causing everyone around the small flame to cough and wheeze. With watery eyes, they turned gray as shadows and then black as coal, their faces “looking like Chimney Sweepers.”

The grime and filth wore down the whole party and by the new year, every one of them had come down with some kind of respiratory illness. The humid chill froze them to the bone. Adams admitted in a letter home to Abigail that reaching Paris by land may have been a grave error in judgment. “The Church, State, and Nobility, exhaust the People to such a degree,” he wrote, “I have no idea of the Possibility of deaper wretchedness.”

This glumness felt uncharacteristic for a revolutionary such as Adams. He was renowned for optimism, an undaunted fighting spirit, and intellectual vigor that had infused America’s revolutionary cause with philosophical underpinnings and legal reason. His was a character that would serve as Vice President to George Washington, and later the second President of the United States. Dejection felt ill-suited for someone cut of his sturdy cloth.

Yet by the time the mule train reached Burgos, his heavy feelings had turned to dark despair. “In short, I am in a deplorable situation indeed,” he wrote on January 11, 1780. “I know not what to do. I know not where to go.”

With heavy heart, he climbed into his mule-drawn carriage the next morning, and plodded through Bribiesca, Pancourbo, and Ezpexo. Sitting across from him were his children, John Quincy and Charles, listlessly rocking back and forth, each shivering, coughing, and sneezing. He worried for their safety, health, and proper schooling.

The carriage descended from a mountain peak, round and round, as if riding the back of a coiled snake, before it finally came into the valley of Biscay where the party would overnight in the town of Orduña.

No signs or landmarks delineated the boundary between the Spanish lands and the Basque territory, but Adams knew he had crossed an important line that stretched from craggy cliffs across a valley and north to the sea. His diary and the writings of others grew cheerful and upbeat almost immediately, like sunshine burning off the gray and cold of suffocating clouds.

In this new land, everyone rose before the dawn. The air had warmed, the chill had broken. “It is a beautifull, a fertile and a well cultivated Spot, almost the only one We have yet seen,” wrote Adams. Riding north, they met merchants on the path with salted fish, sardines, cod, and horse shoes, an assortment greater than any they had seen since Boston Harbor, and “the Mule and their Drivers look very well, in comparison of those We have seen before.”

On January 15, the mule train entered Bilbao, a city half the size of Boston, smelling of sea air and gutted cod, and buzzing with trade. Burly men, some in black berets, loaded and unloaded goods, dealt in the street and shook hands, dangled trinkets for trade, and marketed fruits and vegetables. Women sold yards of cloth and linen and hand-made scarves. Shops lined the road selling books, glass, china, toys, and cutlery. Most impressive of all, Adams beheld a splendid sight – a chimney! The hustle and bustle, all vibrant and freewheeling, felt so familiar to him. “In riding through this little territory,” he wrote, “you would fancy yourself in Connecticut.”

He and his party settled at a “respectable inn” where they could warm fingers and toes without breathing in ash. Hardly an hour had passed when a knock came, and there at the door stood a Basque merchant, Joseph Gardoqui, with an invitation to dinner. With a courteous bow, Adams happily accepted.

Gardoqui and his sons had built a thriving business that traded between Bilbao and the American colonies. He had sympathy for these revolutionary fighters, calling them “patriots,” and doing his small part, he believed, for their cause. Funneled through Basque territory and ports, his secret cargoes would include 30,000 muskets; 30,000 bayonets; 51,314 musket balls; 300,000 pounds of powder; 12,868 grenades; 30,000 uniforms; and 4,000 field tents.

At dinner, Gardoqui recounted with wild swings of arms and hands several Basque achievements. He spoke of the academy at Bergara, unlike any in Spain, where children of Biscay, Gipuzkoa, and Álava learned trade and the customs and cultures of Europe and America. He spoke of townships electing councils for decentralized governance and described how the Basque collected revenues in a common formula transparent to all. Adams listened with rapt attention, drinking wine of Gardoqui’s own vintage.

The two walked the streets of Bilbao after dinner to see the Board of Trade, a Basque institution that had been 150 years in the making. Merchants by lot and election chose members of the Board to settle all disputes of trade on land or at sea. Neither foreigners nor appointees of the King could serve.

Adams marveled how this Board had blossomed outside the King’s reach, writing of it in letters home and in his diary. Its origin mirrored events in Adams’ colony of Massachusetts that had sparked the American Revolution. In 1632, the King of Spain levied a tax on salt. The citizens of Bilbao refused to pay and then killed the officers who tried to collect it. The King dispatched three thousand troops to put down the rebellion, but the Basque organized, fought back, and killed or drove out the soldiers. Consequently, the King lost much of his authority over the Basque to collect duties or confer lordship over lands and ships.

That night Adams wrote in his diary, “The Lands in Biscay are chiefly in the Hands of the People – few Lordships.” He also dispatched a letter to Samuel Huntington, President of Congress in Philadelphia, saying, “It may seem surprising, to hear of free Provinces in Spain, but such is the Fact,…that a Traveller perceives it even in their Countenances, their Dress, their Air, and ordinary manner of Speech, has induced the Spanish Nation and their Kings to respect the Ancient Liberties of these People, so far that each Monarch, at his Accession to the Throne, has taken an Oath, to observe the Laws of Biscay.”

Adams might have stayed in Bilbao weeks longer to satisfy his profound curiosity, but he was eager to reach Paris. The next morning, he bundled John Quincy and Charles into the mule-drawn carriage, and assembled the rest of his party to leave Bilbao. They crossed into Bayonne three days later, and then Bordeaux two days after that. Paris came into view on February 9.

A year later in America, a defeat at Yorktown ended any hope England had of retaining her thirteen colonies. The Treaty of Paris brought the American Revolution officially to a close in 1783, due in no small part to Adams’ brilliance. The founding fathers then turned their attention to the long, painstaking challenge of forging a new constitution. They asked Adams to research and study the best political philosophies, the best models of history, and the best examples of the day, if he could find any, to illuminate their debate after so much sacrifice and miserable bloodshed.

In May 1787, he published his findings. Even though more than seven years had passed, and he had spent only eight days among the Basque, he remembered the people fondly and wrote of them with eloquence. “While their neighbors have long since resigned all their pretensions into the hands of kings and priests,” he wrote, “this extraordinary people have preserved their ancient language, genius, laws, government, and manners, without innovation, longer than any other nation of Europe.”

Adams declared the Basque a republic. Then abiding the example of these remarkable people in the Pyrenees, the wise men of Philadelphia with studious care crafted a republic of their own.

———-

56a1aaae98dc1.imageVince J. Juaristi was born and raised in Elko, NV. He is CEO and President of ARBOLA, a technology company, in Alexandria, VA. His newest book, Basque Firsts: People Who Changed the World, will be released this year by the University of Nevada Press.

Diaspora, Fiestas, People

Vince J. Juaristi: The Work of a Generation

2 Comments

As part of the buildup to the Smithsonian Folklife Festival celebrating the Basque culture, Vince Juaristi is writing a series of articles highlighting the connections between the Basques and Americans. He has graciously allowed me to repost those articles as they appear on Buber’s Basque Page.

The Work of a Generation
By Vince J. Juaristi

56a1aaae98dc1.imageSprawled between the Washington Monument and the U.S. Capitol, the Smithsonian hosts the National Folklife Festival each year. It’s really something to see with all the care and detail one expects of a Smithsonian exhibit. In the July swelter, hundreds of thousands attend to study and learn about unique cultures from around the country and across the globe. From June 29-July 4 and July 7-10, this year’s festival will showcase the Basque.

When I learned this news last year, I felt a bit of pride; well, not a bit, a lot. I thought about dad’s journey from Spain to America, and the journey of so many Basque like him during the 1940s. I marveled at how far the Basque had come as a people.

Their story is courageous, maybe heroic. In Spain after World War II, a boy or girl born with nothing grew up with nothing and died with nothing. That was the way of most things. It was a cold life, as it still is in much of the world. You got nuthin’, dad said in broken English.
Tired, desperate, and poor, the Basque came to America to start anew. Most arrived with five dollars in the pocket, and others arrived with even less. They did not speak the language. They had little education. They boasted no special contacts or prominent pedigrees. Their titles were sheepherder, laborer, waitress, maid, cook, or seamstress.

With strong backs and a thirst to do better, they worked until sweat dripped and muscles ached. For dad, as for most Basque, what had been nuthin’ grew more optimistic. You got nuthin’, you make sumthin’, he said. The Basque worked harder still, learned English, and gained citizenship.

They raised families and pressed education for their kids. Those children soon graduated from the finest colleges in the land, and then branched far and wide into business, politics, medicine, law, and science. The parents nourished the oak, the children enjoyed the shade.

The news about the Smithsonian Folklife Festival did indeed swell me with pride, but it was not for me. It was pride for dad and mom, and for all Basque who had crossed an ocean and then a continent to settle in the American West. These were men and women with courage and unbridled determination. They herded the sheep and farmed the fields, waited the tables and tended the bars, made the beds and mopped the floors, kept the language and honored the traditions.

The pride was for Ana Marie Arbillaga’s dancing lessons, for Bernardo Yanci’s accordion playing, for Gene Irribarne’s brilliance on the clarinet, for Chapo Leniz’s steak and beans, for Juan Juaristi’s sheepherding, for Nick Fagoaga’s castanet playing, for Pete Ormaza’s craftsmanship, for Jess Lopategui’s mastership of ceremony, for Felicia Basanez’s famous flan, and for so many others. Some are no longer here, only in spirit, but the pride is for them too.

This story is not a new story in America’s legacy as a beacon for the downtrodden and oppressed. But it is an important story. Dad’s optimistic words – You got nuthin’, you make sumthin’ – epitomize the spirit of his generation, and in a real sense, describe our country’s unique role in the world better than any statement I’ve heard.

Few groups have lived the story as well as the Basque. Few have worked so hard and achieved so much in so short a time. Fewer still have balanced a unique culture and language with the duties and obligations of being fully American.

Now even the Smithsonian recognizes the achievement. When the folklife festival kicks off this summer, I hope the Basque attend in great numbers. I hope the mothers and fathers come, and the children too. I hope they remember their personal journeys and share their stories. I hope they see where they’re at, amid the stone architecture, pomp, and democratic cradle of a great nation, and feel themselves an important part of history.

When Gernikako-Arbola, the Basque tree of freedom, is planted on the national mall, or a band of sheep grazes near the White House, I want the Basque to know that their story is a good story, and the work of a generation has been worth it. Out of nothing, the Basque have made something.

———-

Vince J. Juaristi was born and raised in Elko, NV. He is CEO and President of ARBOLA, a technology company, in Alexandria, VA. His newest book, Basque Firsts: People Who Changed the World, will be released this year by the University of Nevada Press.

Books, Diaspora, Fiestas, History, People

Intertwined histories: Basques and America by Vince Juaristi

2 Comments

Following up on the Smithsonian Folklife Festival featuring the Basque Culture this summer in Washington DC, I wanted to share a series of articles highlighting how the Basque history has “intertwined” with that of the United States.

56a1aaae98dc1.imageVince Juaristi, a native of Elko, Nevada and author of Back to Bizkaia, was asked by the Smithsonian to write a series of articles that highlight how the Basques have crossed paths with the United States throughout the years.

Vince’s first article, The Work of a Generation, puts the Festival in context of the lives of the men and women who left the Basque Country to forge a new life in the American West. Vince clearly feels pride in the fact that the Basque culture will be featured by the Folklife Festival, but that pride goes beyond his own pride in his culture, but extends to all of those Basques that shaped what has become the Basque experience in the United States.

56b5198375078.imageI’ve touched on the connection between the Basques and John Adams, the 2nd president of the United States. In his second article, Intertwined: John Adams encounters the Basques, Vince delves deeper, describing the arduous journey Adams made across Spain, on his way to Paris, and his surprising and revealing encounter with the Basque Country, an experience he would recall with admiration when he was researching governments as the US Constitution was being developed.

Vince has asked me to repost his articles here, and they will appear very soon.

Vince is writing one article per month highlighting these connections. His next will be out in March. He is also working on his next book, Basque Firsts: People who Changed the World. These are great ways to prepare for the festivities this summer in Washington DC!

Diaspora, Euskadi, Fiestas, Folklore

Smithsonian Folklife Festival: Basque: Innovation by Culture

7 Comments

basque-logo-home
Easily the biggest Basque news in the United States in 2016 is that the Smithsonian Folklife Festival will be featuring the Basque culture this summer. From June 29 to July 4 and from July 7-10, Washington DC will celebrate the Basque culture and the contributions the Basques have made to the world.

You can learn more about the festivities by visiting the Smithsonian website.

A number of other bloggers are also highlighting the festival, and it is worth checking out their take on it: A Basque in Boise, The Center for Basque Studies, euskalkultura.com, Euskal Kazeta, Basque Whalers, and the Smithsonian Folklife Festival itself.

Euskara, Film

Basque language film: Loreak (Flowers)

1 Comment

Loreak_posterLoreak (Flowers in English) is the first Basque language film to be nominated for the Goya Award and the first Basque language film to be considered for an Oscar (in the Best Foreign Language film category). It was Spain’s selection for that Oscar, though it was, in the end, not nominated. However, these accolades highlight the reception this film has received.

Per Wikipedia, the plot of Loreak is:

Ane (played by Nagore Aranburu) is a woman in her early forties who does not feel fulfilled. Her life changes when she starts to receive bouquets of flowers at home anonymously, once a week. The lives of Lourdes (Itziar Ituño) and Tere (Itziar Aizpuru) are also altered by some mysterious flowers. A stranger leaves flowers every week in memory of someone who was important for them.

I have yet to see it, but Loreak is currently playing in various cities across the US (see their Facebook page for details), in the original Basque but with English subtitles. It is even in New Mexico, though I don’t think I’ll be able to see it this run.

If anyone does catch the film, please share your thoughts!

Euskadi, Food, Websites

Gazta! A new cheese route in Euskadi!

1 Comment

mutiloa.jpgAnyone who has visited the Basque Country knows how important cheese is to the cuisine of the Basques. Idiazabal might be the most famous, but cheese is everywhere in Euskadi. Meals often end with a plate of cheese and membrillo.

Basque cheese was central to more than one of my visits to the Basque Country. During my first stay, in 1991, I visited my dad’s aunt, who lived outside of Munitibar. Her caserio was at the end of the road that wound up the side of the mountain. It was an old caserio, with the barn still occupied by animals. On the kitchen table was the biggest wheel of cheese I’d ever seen. My dad’s aunt and her family raised sheep for their milk and made their own homemade cheese. It had been many years since she had seen my dad and she insisted I take two small wheels of cheese back to the United States for my dad. How was I supposed to make it through customs with homemade cheese? The smell alone would give me away, but, more importantly, this was cheese made on a farm, with no controls. There was no way… Suffice it to say, I did get those blocks of cheese to my dad. How is a story for another day.

Years later, I was visiting the Basque Country with my whole family, the first time for my mom, my brothers, and my wife-to-be. My dad took us all to that same baserria and again there was a huge wheel of cheese sitting on the same table. While we were all sitting at the table, doing our best to be patient as my dad and his aunt traded stories in Basque, my future wife looked out the window and saw the herd of sheep, my dad’s cousin milking them. My future wife jumped at the chance to take her turn at the sheep, doing her part in making the next wheel of cheese.

My mom’s grandfather, Blas (who I’m named after), was from Mutiloa, Gipuzkoa, in the heart of the Goierri, the region where Idiazabal, so famous for that cheese, lies. I first went there with my friend Joseba Etxarri (director of the euskalkultura site), who found where my mom’s grandfather’s baserria was. As we tried to find the exact place, we stopped at a few houses and Joseba asked in Euskara if anyone knew where the Telleria caserio was. Of course they did, and they pointed us in the right direction, but every house seemed to have a master cheese maker and we had our share of wonderful cheese on the way to rediscovering my great-grandfather’s birth house.

logo-inicioAll of this leads to the most awesome new vacation idea. In that same Goierri region, including Idiazabal, a number of cheese makers in a variety of towns have established what I can only imagine is a unique trail. The “Idiazabal Cheese Route“, or Idiazabal Gaztaren Ibilbidea, is a 6 stage walk of about 100 kilometers through the Goierri. Along each stage, there is ample opportunity to taste some of the best cheese the Basque Country has to offer, along with sagardoa (hard cider) and the most amazing natural vistas. Paul Richardson of the Financial Times shares his experiences along the trail. It seems like a most amazing vacation idea, one I’ll have to try some day.

Diaspora, Interviews, People, Sports

Making Dreams Come True: An Interview with Argia Beristain

Leave a comment

11709776_10153547206780159_6103263036434097161_nI’ve known Argia Beristain for about 20 years now, having first met her during our joint activities in the Seattle Euskal Etxea. She has since moved back and forth between the two coasts of the United States and has been extremely active in promoting Basque culture, culminating in the Basque Soccer Friendly that was held in Boise, Idaho this past summer. 

In this interview, I ask Argia about the planning and organization of the Basque Soccer Friendly, her experiences being part of four very different Basque communities in the United States, and her favorite places in the Basque Country.

Buber’s Basque Page: Last summer (July 18), you saw the culmination of a lot of your blood, sweat and tears over the last year or so in the Basque Soccer Friendly, which brought both Athletic Bilbao and Club Tijuana to Boise to play an exhibition soccer match. What was this experience like? What was the most gratifying part of organizing this amazing event? What challenges surprised you the most?

Argia Beristain: The experience of planning, organizing and executing the Basque Soccer Friendly was an exhausting emotional roller coaster. There were so many times along the way that new obstacles were placed in front of us and many thought “oh there’s no way they can overcome this” and we refused to give up and somehow overcame each and every one of them. You can call it tenacity or stubbornness I guess but it was a passion of mine to make sure that I personally tried everything I could to make it a reality. We had worked so hard, I knew I would never forgive myself for turning back and not doing absolutely everything I could think of to keep the project moving forward.

11892257_10206785476549746_1339441297480742596_nThe most gratifying part of organizing this amazing event has to be seeing how so many people’s dreams came true, not only my own or my Aita’s which was personally motivating all along the way. The overall feeling/vibe on the Basque Block and at the game was pure happiness — it’s so great to know I helped bring that happiness to the community. To point to one specific moment though, it would have to be when I saw an interview my husband, Keegan, did with the local newspaper that was recorded and posted online after Athletic Club’s arrival in Boise. I could not have done any of the work on this without his endless support, he held me up and gave me encouragement every single step of the way. But at that moment, seeing his own personal excitement and satisfaction that all of our hard work had paid off and that our team was actually arriving in Boise, Idaho thousands of miles away from the Basque Country was beyond gratifying.

Of all the challenges that surprised me throughout the process, the most staggering element is just how expensive putting on an event like this really is. Even with Athletic Club waiving their appearance fee, the cost of Tijuana’s appearance fee, flying both teams to Boise, hotels, food, transportation, on top of all of the expenses associated with use of Albertsons Stadium, signage and the major budget needed for the installation of the sod, it all adds up very quickly. That doesn’t even include marketing or merchandise which we had committees of amazing volunteers dedicating hundreds of hours to in-kind. We all knew it was going be expensive and, quite honestly, our budget projections from a year ago are not that far off, but when you step back and look at everything including all of the “in-kind” our sponsors gave us to support the game, it’s truly staggering how much money is needed to pull this thing off.

Buber’s Basque Page: What was the history of this project? When did it first get discussed? Who else had been involved in bringing this event from the concept stage to final fruition?

Argia Beristain: This history of this project starts at Jaialdi 2010 with Mayor Dave Bieter, John Bieter, and representatives from the Province of Bizkaia enjoying a nice dinner and a good amount of wine while dreaming up ways to make Jaialdi “even bigger next time”. Their conversation started focusing in on sports and ultimately it was suggested that a team from the Basque Country should come and play a game in Boise. Then a couple years later, John Bieter pulled together some people on the Boise State campus to see if they agreed it was a good idea in April 2013. That June, I moved to Boise and even before my furniture arrived, I received a call from Dave Lachiondo, Associate Director for Basque Studies at Boise State, asking me if I wanted to be involved since my background was in non-profit fundraising and we’d inevitably need to raise quite a bit of money to make this possible. From that point we formed a small committee and people joined and left the committee at various stages based upon our needs for the next year or so.

20018_1582353802017575_4348328858576978449_nEventually, at the core there was John Bieter (Basque Studies), Bill Taylor (Idaho Youth Soccer Association) and myself as Directors to lead the way. I worked hand-in-hand with Bill Taylor on all things soccer related (teams, FIFA Agents, equipment, field, etc.) then for all things sponsor and donor related, John and I worked together. We were quite the team. All along John was there to ride the up and downs of this event with me every step of the way. It helped that we could also go and meet with Mayor Dave Bieter when we needed some additional help opening doors along the way.

Along the way we found an amazing designer, Paul Carew, and other marketing professionals like Jason Hamilton who helped steer us in right direction. By January 2015, we formed a volunteer marketing committee that met weekly with Paul (all things brand related, logos, signage, merchandise, etc.), Jason Hamilton (managed our tv commercials and relationship with hispanic tv and our media partner, KTVB), Drew Lorona (social media and email campaigns), Ana Overgaard (production of videos as needed), Keegan Dougherty (website, live stream, online store and retail space manager) and myself. It was a fun but small group of amazing individuals who all wanted to see the game happen and be the best event it could be. I joked at one point that I was going to stop coming to marketing meetings because I always left there with a lot more work to do. But all kidding aside, they were awesome and the event’s success can be attributed directly to them. When you step back and think about how volunteers pulled off this major event, it’s inspiring.

Another major person behind the scenes for the Basque Soccer Friendly was Fred Mack of Holland & Hart, our legal team. An event like this requires very detailed team, vendor and sponsor contracts, as well as an elaborate agreement with Boise State University. Fred joined our team “pro bono” in March 2015 and suddenly everything started moving much more smoothly.

Add to that our Volunteer Director Daniel Brunham and the numerous amazing volunteers that he coordinated to support our events leading up to the game, retail store and install/removal of the field and it’s clear to see it took quite a team.

On the Basque Studies side, we also could not have done it without John Ysursa. He was there to support John Bieter, Keegan and I with anything we needed help with from painting the retail location walls, filling shifts as “Johnny Retail”, installing/removing the sod, storing our merchandise, you name it. Whenever we needed anything, we always knew we could count on Y.

All in all, it was a small group of individuals committed to making this game a success. Some of us have been on the team for 2 years, most 6-9 months but at the end of the day, we all gave endless hours that in my opinion paid off by a successful event.

11695786_1588319494754339_462829284359832730_nBuber’s Basque Page: Originally, the Basque Soccer Friendly was going to be during the same week as Jaialdi, but it got moved due to Athletic Bilbao’s making it to the Europa League competition. I heard more than one person say that, in the end, this was a good thing as dealing with the sod during Jaialdi would have been a nightmare. How did you feel about the change in time?

Argia Beristain: Moving the date of the game was the last thing we wanted to do but, in the end, we know everything happens for a reason and for this first time event we can honestly say we think it worked out best this way. There are countless stories of friends, family and soccer fans from throughout the United States, Mexico and the Basque Country who had plans to come to the game on the 29th during the week of Jaialdi who were not able to go with the date change to the 18th. We can’t help but think that we would have had a lot more than 22,000 in the Stadium if it had been during Jaialdi; however, from the logistics and event experience for Athletic Club Bilbao’s side of things, it was definitely better off on the 18th.

For example, logistically no one in Boise had ever been through the process of installing the sod over turf and we relied heavily upon our volunteers to help with the plastic event decking and tarp installation and removal portions of that process. That equaled a lot of hours of hard work and it was hard enough to find enough dedicated volunteers who were willing to pitch in. If it had been during Jaialdi when many of the local Basque community is already busy putting on the various Jaialdi events, it would have been even more difficult to accomplish this major volunteer effort that took multiple days of physical labor. Another logistical issue beyond the already full hotels throughout Boise during Jaialdi is the busses that were needed for the teams. With the demand for busses that Jaialdi puts on the local community with shuttles from hotels, performer shuttles, etc., I don’t think there are physically enough busses in the greater Treasure Valley area to meet the needs of Jaialdi and the soccer teams at the same time.

Then, as for Athletic Club’s experience and our community’s access to the team, I don’t think they would have been able to have the freedom to visit the Basque Block, the Basque Museum and the Basque Center, Basque Soccer Friendly store and have autograph signings as they were able to if it had been during Jaialdi. With the game on the 18th, they were able to spend the entire afternoon on the 17th playing Pala in the Fronton, checking out the museum and boarding house, enjoying a meal at the Basque Center, playing FIFA at the Basque Soccer Friendly store and visiting the Ikastola. The team gave the Boise community unprecedented access by making all players available for autographs so we split them into groups at the Basque Center, the Basque Soccer Friendly store and the Ikastola. Each location had lines around the block with Basques and non-Basques alike eager to meet them and get their autographs. They were so gracious and stayed until they signed for everyone which gave them a real opportunity to meet the Basque diaspora and greater Boise community which resulted in so many dreams made true. Now, if it had been during Jaialdi, they would have seen even larger crowds on the Block and a lot more in the Stadium I’m sure, however they would have been mobbed and we would not have been able to have the autograph signings and they would not have had the freedom to explore the Basque Block or visit with distant family like they did.

Buber’s Basque Page: You’ve now been part of Basque communities in Seattle, Washington DC, and Boise, and grew up in the Las Vegas Basque community. What do you see as the big differences in these different clubs/communities and the commonalities?

Argia Beristain: Wow, that’s a good question. My experiences working in support of the Basque Communities in Las Vegas, Seattle, Washington, DC and now Boise have all been very different and are dependent upon the demographics of the communities, yet it always comes down to a few dedicated volunteers who are willing to give so much of themselves to keep the clubs or projects going.

In Las Vegas, our biggest challenge is that the original Basque immigrants who started the Lagun Onak Las Vegas Basque Club are getting older and unable to sustain the club forever. The heart of the club at the beginning and today are the pelotaris or Jai Alai players who used to play professionally on the Las Vegas Strip until 1980 when the casinos closed the frontons. At that time many of the players stayed to become card dealers for the casinos and what was originally a group of Jai Alai friends became an organized Basque Club in 1980. This however was the last major immigration of Basques to the Las Vegas valley and many of the children of these pelotaris and dedicated Basques are either not interested in maintaining or preserving their Basque Culture or they have moved away. As a result, as the founders of the Basque Club enter their 70s it’s difficult for them that all of the activities of the club and organization of the events fall solely upon their shoulders.

In Seattle, as you know, there isn’t quite that distinct time that you can point to when most of the Basque immigrants came to the area. Instead, the major hurdle that I see for the Seattle Basque Community is just how vast the area is and how spread out all of the Basques are. In this continuously evolving cultural society there are many demands on us as individuals and families from social engagements to soccer practice, dance classes, etc. — it’s helpful if the Basque component is convenient too, which isn’t always possible for all of the Basques throughout Washington.

Now Washington, DC is completely different as the majority of our members are in their 30s and 40s yet were born in the Basque Country and are in DC working for maybe only a few years. A few of the Basque Americans who have grown up in Boise, Elko, Chicago, etc. have moved there too and are members of the club however the biggest hurdle is conveying the need or necessity to preserve or celebrate our Basque Culture to those who “being Basque” is compulsory because they grew up in the Basque Country and thats just how they lived. It’s interesting to note that of the 5 current Board of Directors for the Washington, DC Euskal Etxea, 4 of us are Basque Americans and there is just 1 who was born in the Basque Country yet our membership base is heavily Basque Country born. Now, at different times we have had other Basque Country born Board members but as the club gets older and faces more challenges, it appears the Basque Americans who have grown up in other Basque Diaspora communities are the ones pushing the hardest to keep it going in DC.

11813462_1592530124333276_7437631682627407954_nThen there’s Boise. I think the best thing going for the Boise Basque Community is it’s numbers and the sheer volume of Basques that have immigrated to Idaho throughout the years. With there being so many generations of Basques and Basque Americans who have grown up celebrating Basque culture and having Basque culture celebrated by the greater Boise community it makes it, in my opinion, easier to perpetuate. It’s cool to be Basque in Boise. At the end of the day, the work and responsibility still only falls on a few dedicated volunteers no matter where you live; however, with such a large population to pull from in Boise/Treasure Valley, you’re more likely to find those people willing to help. Furthermore, the burden placed upon one person is less when there are more people willing to teach euskal dantza, euskera, mus, briska, movie night, etc. and one when one person gets tired, overwhelmed or needs to handle the soccer practice car pool instead, there is more of a chance to find someone else in the Basque community to pick up where they left off rather than the effort halting completely.

I wouldn’t trade my experiences in any of the communities for anything and I think that what it means to me to be “Basque” and the type of volunteer that I am today is a result of all of the experiences I’ve had in these various Basque communities.

Buber’s Basque Page: The next big event in Basque cultural space in the US looks to be the 2016 Folklife Festival, put on by the Smithsonian in Washington, DC. I understand you were involved in making this event happen. What can you tell us about the event?

Argia Beristain: Yes, I’m very excited about the Smithsonian Folklife Festival that will present Basque Culture on the National Mall in DC in June/July 2016. Mark Bieter and I have been meeting with the folks from the Smithsonian since 2006 to make this dream come true. With the help of the Basque Government’s Aitor Sotes and more recently Ander Caballero and the recent addition of the representatives from the Province of Bizkaia, it’s finally happening!

Every summer the Smithsonian presents a living museum featuring cultures from around the world and 2016 is the 50th Anniversary of the festival. The Washington, DC Euskal Etxea is helping connect the Smithsonian with local vendors and contacts to have authentic Basque food, cider, wine and more. Most of the performers will probably come from the Basque Country but it’s expected that a number of them will be from the Basque American Diaspora as well. The Smithsonian team is working directly with NABO on that selection process as we speak. It’s exciting stuff! I hope Basque Americans make an effort to get to DC this summer to see it, it’s sure to be a once in a lifetime moment for our culture and language.

Buber’s Basque Page: Now, a few questions about the Basque Country itself. What is your favorite spot in the Basque Country?

Argia Beristain: My favorite place in the Basque Country is Ondarru (Ondarroa). Specifically the port and beach area. I have fond memories of waking up early as little kid and sitting on my Amama’s patio to watch the fishing boats come in during the early morning. As I got older, I’ve enjoyed sitting at Moby Dick enjoying a txikito with my kuadrilla along the beach. Ondarru is so beautiful and the people are uniquely Ondarrutarra. I love that.

Buber’s Basque Page: What is your favorite Basque food?

Argia Beristain: My favorite Basque food would be comfort food my family makes. Like my Itxiko Miren’s zapu (fish) or her soup. My aita’s paella or when he makes tongue (only ever in a red sauce). Once while I was living in DC and pregnant and unable to travel to visit family, I asked my aita to ship me some of his paella (frozen of course) and his tortilla patata. I’ve never received a gift that made me feel so comforted and close to family even though I was 2,500 miles away from all of them in Las Vegas and 3,800 miles away from Ondarru.

Buber’s Basque Page: What is your favorite Basque fiesta?

Argia Beristain: My favorite fiesta is Ondarruko Jaixak in August celebrating Andra Mari but a close second would be Madalenas in Elantxobe, Bermeo…..

Buber’s Basque Page: Finally, is there anything else you would like to add?

11755196_1589935321259423_5857486168369343882_nArgia Beristain: As it’s been a few months now since the game in July, I’ve had some time to reflect on just how amazing it is that it all came together and we actually brought Athletic Club Bilbao to Boise, Idaho! On top of that, we covered the iconic blue turf at Boise State University and introduced high level professional soccer/futbol to a traditionally American Football community. Lastly, even though we had to move the game away from Jaialdi and lost a lot of the Basque community’s ability to attend, we still had 22,000 people fill the stadium. It’s amazing to me when I stop and reflect on all of that. I’m proud of the fact that we pulled it off and it was a great success.

The Basque Soccer Friendly is truly a testament to remaining positive, not giving up and doing whatever it takes to reach a dream/goal. I hope to have more opportunities to pour myself into a project like this in the future.

Buber’s Basque Page: Eskerrik asko Argia!

People

My Goodbye to My Dad

8 Comments

I gave the eulogy at my dad’s funeral on Wednesday, December 2. I’m posting my words here to honor his memory.
IMG_4582Pete – dad – was my inspiration. Like many of you here today, or your parents or grandparents, he gave up everything he knew, everything he grew up with, to build a better life. He came to what must have seemed the most desolate place on earth, especially compared to the vibrant green mountains and fiestas of the Basque Country. He left all of that behind to start a new life, a life that left him the hills around Silver City with nothing more than one fellow sheepherder and a dog to keep him company for months at a time. From this new beginning, he found a new life.

In his way, dad was a great man. He came from the most humble beginnings on a small farm in the heart of the Basque Country. He worked hard every day, eventually building his own business. He wasn’t always successful. Everyone he talked to knew about his “deep shit hole.” But, his work ethic was an inspiration. Though he never went to school – he actually ran from the priests that had come to take him to the seminary back in the Basque Country – he made sure that me and my brothers Tony and David had the opportunity he had passed on, to give us an even better life than he had.

Dad never gave me much life advice. At least with me, he was a man of few words. The one thing he did tell me was that he wanted me to have a job with an air conditioner. He had worked so many hours in the heat of the sun and the cold of the winter that he hoped I wouldn’t have to do the same. So, in his own way, he encouraged me to follow my dreams, to strive for more, and to be the best man I could become. I owe him a debt greater than he ever realized.

As for many Bascos forged in the ruins of the Spanish Civil War and tempered in the lonely and barren hills of the American West, dad had a rough and gruff exterior. He wasn’t an emotional man. Once in a while, his temper would flair up. But, hidden beneath that rough exterior was the most generous heart, a heart that was generous even before it was replaced by a younger model. His door was always open, a sol y sombra always ready for any visitor. And, more often than not, they would leave with a bag of peppers, a chunk of jamon, or a package of chorizo. Remembering the harsh days when he was in the back hills of Idaho and Oregon, he took the next generation of sheepherders, now from Peru, under his wing and helped them navigate life in their new home. He lived for his family and friends, and his home was always open to all of them.

Dad worked hard every day, until his health got in the way. In 1997, after a series of heart attacks, he had a heart transplant that gave him a new lease on life. As he liked to say, he got a new engine, but the chassis needed a lot of work.

And little by little, that chassis began to fail him. A long series of problems, rivaled only by the number of pills he took every day, slowly took away his strength. While his mind was sharp and alert to the end, his body slowly deteriorated. This was a new struggle, as his physical strength was the basis of everything he did. All he knew and did was about work, about physical labor, and that was taken away. He never had any hobbies that didn’t involve physical labor, and this challenge was probably as great as any of the others.

But, with the constant and loving support of his wife Monica, he fought on. Together, they got nearly 20 years out of that heart and, because of it, he got to see so many things. He got to see his mom and brothers come visit him from the Basque Country, and me and my brothers got to see where our argumentative sides really came from. For me, some of my most precious memories are being able to take him back to Spain, the first time we had gone together, and drive him around his old stomping grounds. We visited so many distant cousins, it seemed that the whole Basque Country had to be related to us somehow. I didn’t understand most of what I heard, but I could tell that dad enjoyed reliving his childhood adventures with all of those old friends.

Because of the time he and mom eked out of that new heart, he got to see all of his sons graduate from college, he got to see them all marry the most beautiful women, and he got to see all of them start their own families. That twinkle in his eye, the way he would stick out and bite his tongue, his smile – all of these live on in his grandchildren. He is a part of them and through them he continues to live on. His grandchildren are his greatest legacy.

Pete – dad – is gone. He will be missed. But he will never be forgotten. He lives on in the hearts of everyone he knew. If that isn’t the sign of a great man, I don’t know what is.

Goian bego, Aita. Maite zaitut.

Euskadi, History

New insights into the origins of the Basques

1 Comment

Screen Shot 2015-11-05 at 5.28.02 PMA few months back, a paper published in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America (PNAS) (Ancient genomes link early farmers from Atapuerca in Spain to modern-day Basques) caused quite the stir on the Basque portion of the internet. The paper examined the genetics of various populations, including Spanish, Italian, Russian, and, of course, Basque, and compared those genetics to determine where the Basques came from. Many reports had sensational headlines like Cave DNA unravels riddle of the Basque people, Ancient DNA cracks puzzle of Basque origins, Basques Linked to Ancient Iberian Farmers, Basque ancestors were farmers, Mystery of Basque origins solved, Science Seeks Answers to Riddles of the Mysterious Basques, and Unusual ‘relic language’ comes from small group of farmers isolated for thousands of years.

To the best of my understanding, what the paper claims is that the Basques are most closely related to European farmers from the Atapuerca region of northern Spain. My interpretation of the previous theory was that the Basques were a remnant of the paleolithic populations of Europe, the hunter/gatherer Cromagnon peoples effectively. What this new paper says is that, no, the Basques are more closely related to farmers that arrived in the region during the Neolithic or Chalcolithic periods of time, not the earlier Mesolithic period.

However, the Basques still exhibit genetic differences with their neighbors, such as the French and the Spanish. Rather than being isolated since stone age times, the authors of this study attribute these differences to more recent isolation. After the farmers spread through Europe, the ones that would eventually become the Basques were isolated from the Caucasian/Central Asian and North African populations and the later Moorish influence in Spain. While their neighbors intermixed with these populations, they did not.

The paper also claimed that this shed light on the origins of the Basque language. At least to me, that isn’t so clear. While the genetic history of a people might correlate to some degree with language, it is not an absolute connection and the language that those farmers-who-became-Basques spoke could easily, it seems to me, have even older roots. While these new genetic studies provide valuable new insight into the history of the Basques from a population point of view, they can’t directly inform the linguistic history. The paper admits this, saying that the farming populations that migrated to the area and mingled with the local hunter-gatherer populations to form what would ultimately be the Basques “could have” spoken some non-Indo-European language, but what it was, they don’t know. And they may have brought it with them, or it could have been there already.

That said, I am certainly not a geneticist and I would love to hear from people who are actually in the field and might be able to provide even more detailed commentary on this paper. It seems to have fascinating and important implications, but I would certainly like to know more.