Basque Fact of the Week, People

Basque Fact of the Week: Uberuaga Island

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Basque names are unusual and often striking, immediately recognizable. And generally they are rare, particularly on maps. So, it is pretty cool when your distant cousin is recognized for her career by having an island named after her. Maybe that should be on my bucket list – to visit Uberuaga Island.

Julia Uberuaga with her Cat, stationed at McMurdo Station in Antarctica. Uberuaga Island is located by the red point. Photo of Julia found on The Antarctic Sun.
  • Uberuaga Island is one of several volcanic islands that make up what is collectively known as the Dailey Islands. Discovered by a British expedition in 1901-1904, the group of islands, which sits a few miles from Cape Chocolate, were named after the expedition’s carpenter Fred Dailey.
  • Uberuaga Island is about half a mile long and is the easternmost of the Dailey Islands.
  • The island is named for Julia Mary Uberuaga. From 1979-99, Julia made 20 consecutive Antarctic seasonal deployments working for contractors in support of U.S. Antarctic Project (USAP). At the beginning, she worked as a general field assistant. For the rest of her deployments, she was a heavy equipment operator, the last few seasons operating a Caterpillar D7 Pearl on the McMurdo Ice Shelf.
  • When Julia began her first deployment in Antarctica, at the age of 24, she was one of the few women in a place otherwise dominated by men. As she recalled, it was more than a challenging experience, but she loved the landscape and there were promises of promotion, so she stuck it out. By the time she was in her last deployment, twenty years later, women comprised some one third of the work force at McMurdo Station.
  • McMurdo Station is the primary settlement run by the United States in Antartica. It can support about 1500 people. Sponsored by the National Science Foundation and established in 1955, the station supports a wide range of scientific activity: “aeronomy, astrophysics and geospace sciences, biology and ecosystems, geology and geophysics, glaciology, geomorphology, ice cores, and ocean and climate systems.”
  • Julia’s grandfather, Domingo Uberuaga, was from Munitibar/Gerrikaitz-Arbatzegi. He was one of three Uberuaga brothers that emigrated from the Basque Country to the United States, settling in the state of Idaho. There was a fourth brother who stayed in the Basque Country who was my great-grandfather.

Thanks to Damiana Uberuaga for suggesting this topic for a fact! If you have an idea, please let me know.

Fighting Basques

The National Basque WWII Veterans Memorial

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Plans are underway to build the first national WWII memorial in the United Sates to honor veterans of Basque descent.

Do you know that over 1,600 veterans of Basque origin served in the U.S. Armed Forces during WWII? The time has come to permanently honor and thank all WWII veterans of Basque descent who served and sacrificed their lives for our freedoms. Pedro Oiarzabal will present a public lecture on the Basques in WWII on February 17 at 2pm at the Basque Cultural Center. It is free and open to all.

US Navy WWII veteran John Mainvil Oses (San Bernardino, California, 1926-2022, in Eagle, Idaho) and wife Grace Lacouague Mujica (San Juan Capistrano, California, 1934-2017, Eagle) were interviewed by Joseba Etxarri, director of EuskalKultura.eus, and Pedro J. Oiarzabal at the home in Eagle in 2015. Grace was the North American Basque Organizations’ treasurer for 28 years.

The North American Basque Organizations Inc., has launched a fundraising campaign with an inaugural event that will be held February 16th at the Basque Cultural Center of South San Francisco, CA. The two goals of the campaign are to first raise funds to complete the “Fighting Basques: Memory of WWII” research and second to build “The National Basque WWII Veterans Memorial.” The memorial is intended to serve as a long-lasting memory to all veterans of Basque origin who served in the U.S. military during WWII as well as an educational tool for all to recognize and learn of their sacrifices and unselfish contributions to this country.

As of today, the “Fighting Basques” project research team, under the direction of the Basque homeland history association Sancho de Beurko, has identified more than 1,600 WWII combatants of Basque origin in the U.S. Armed Forces, following research in 46 States, Washington D.C., and Puerto Rico. The result of this research is the writing up more than 1,100 biographies of these veterans and their families. According to Dr. Pedro J. Oiarzabal, “Fighting Basques” project’s main researcher, “The National Basque World War II Veterans Memorial intends to become a place where we all can permanently remember, honor, and thank all WWII veterans of Basque descent. We believe that the Memorial would become a national symbol of public recognition and pride comparable to the Basque Sheepherder Monument at Rancho San Rafael, in Reno, Nevada.”

To achieve this goal, they need all our help. 

To donate today, please visit this website (https://nabasque.eus/wwii_memorial.html), scan the QR code, 

or send a check payable to:

N.A.B.O. WWII Veterans Memorial Fund
c/o Mayi Petracek
11971 S. Allerton Cir
Parker, CO  80138

Your contribution to support this important project is tax-deductible.

Educational Fund of the North American Basque Organizations, Inc.

EIN: 82-0489192

Adventures of Maite and Kepa, Buber's Basque Story

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 180

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It was a little before noon and Kepa stood in front of the bar again, though Iratxe was no where to be found. He heard some bustling coming from the back as he waited patiently for Iratxe, or anyone really, to pop out front. Some fifteen minutes must have passed as he waited there, quietly.

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

Suddenly a face peaked from behind the curtain separating the bar from the kitchen.

“There you are!” barked Iratxe irritatedly. “Get your ass back here.”

Kepa looked around and quickly made his way through the dining room and into the kitchen.

“Barkatu…” he began as Iratxe took off the apron she had been wearing and threw it at him. 

“Dammit,” she said, shaking her head. “We are already behind. The first customers will be showing up any moment. Tortilla, now!” She disappeared behind the curtain.

Kepa pulled on the apron and grabbed three pans. He was glad he had the test run yesterday as that gave him just enough familiarity with the kitchen that he didn’t have to go asking Iratxe where things were. She had already peeled and sliced a bowl full of potatoes. Not quite the way he would have done it – while Iratxe’s potatoes were cut up into almost perfect cubes, he preferred very thin slices, almost like coins. He just thought they cooked better. He threw her potatoes into one of the pans after the oil got hot while he sliced up his own.

Soon, three perfect tortillas sat plated and ready to pass to the bar. Almost as soon as he had finished, the plates came back empty. He could hear the ruckus on the other side of the curtain. He had no idea how popular this place was. And here he had hoped to find a nice quiet place to work with no stress.

But, he didn’t stop making tortilla. Another cook was in the kitchen working on the various lunch items. Kepa wasn’t sure if he should help her, but she didn’t ask for any help and he figured he should just keep making tortilla until he was told to stop. Both he and the other cook worked silently for hours. Only once did Iratxe peak in to eye things, but saying nothing, she disappeared behind the curtain. A young man appeared, taking plates of food prepared by the other cook to the dining room. Still Kepa made his tortilla. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Iratxe walked through the curtain, her forehead glistening with sweat. 

“I think we’re good,” she said, looking at Kepa. “You can help Belen now.” Iratxe gestured to the other woman in the kitchen, who barely looked up and gave Kepa a brief nod as she gestured to some pots in the sink.

Right, Kepa thought to himself. I get to help wash…

Kepa had always known that working in a bar was hard, he’d seen enough of his friends doing it. Particularly Maite and her parents. They were up in the earliest part of the day, getting ready, and one of them was always up way past midnight, serving drinks to the last few patrons. And he had done a few stints himself, helping out with a parttime job here and there. But this was a bit different. The enormous crush of the lunchtime crowd just overwhelmed him. He wasn’t sure he could do this every day.

“How do you do it?” he asked as he scrubbed a pot.

“Eh?” replied Belen as she flipped a steak. “What do you mean?”

“How do you do this every day?”

Belen shrugged. “It’s my job,” she said. “It’s what the boss pays me for.” She paused before letting out a little smile. “But, today was about as rough as I’ve seen. A big wedding party booked the whole bar. It won’t be like this yesterday.”

Kepa looked stunned. “She could have told me!” he stammered.

“Would you have come?” asked Belen, her smile widening. 

“Maybe not,” Kepa admitted.

“Don’t worry, tomorrow will be a lot easier.”

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

Basque Fact of the Week, Music, People

Basque Fact of the Week: Composer Juan Crisóstomo Arriaga

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When a budding genius dies young, one wonders “what if” they had lived longer, what could they have accomplished? Juan Crisóstomo Arriaga, though not even reaching his 20th birthday, displayed such musical genius that he was often compared to Mozart. His teachers praised him for his deep understanding of composition and harmony, despite the fact that he had not been formally instructed in either when he wrote many of his works. Yesterday marked the 218th anniversary of his birth, and one can only speculate what he might have accomplished if he had made it to 40 or 50 or even longer.

Juan Crisóstomo Arriaga and part of his Overture for Los esclavos felices.
  • Juan Crisóstomo Arriaga was born in Bilbo on January 27, 1806, fifty years to the day after Mozart, one of the multiple reasons he was nicknamed the “Spanish Mozart.” His father, Juan Simón, originally from Errigoiti, had moved to Bilbo from Gernika in 1804 and had displayed some musical talent of his own – he had been an organist. Living and working in Bilbo, he was able to provide for his future son’s much more prodigious talent. Arriaga’s mother, María Rosa Catalina de Balzola, was from Gernika. Arriaga was the eighth of nine children born into the family.
  • The name Arriaga comes from a small hamlet near Gernika, and means place of stone.
  • Arriaga was a musical prodigy. He wrote his first octet, Nada y Mucho, when he was eleven years old. He wrote an overture when he was twelve and, by his fourteenth birthday, he had written the two-act opera Los esclavos felices (The Happy Slaves), his Variation for strings, and La Húngara for violin and piano.
  • At the age of 15, his dad arranged his move to Paris to complete his musical studies – he would never see his family again. There, he studied violin with Pierre Baillot, counterpoint with Luigi Cherubini, and harmony under François-Joseph Fétis, all at the Paris Conservatoire. When he was 18, Fétis made him a teaching assistant.
  • One of his first compositions while in Paris was his Arco Quartets, of which Fétis said “It is impossible to find anything more original, nor more purely and correctly written.” He also wrote his Symphony in D for Large Orchestra and several other vocal pieces to be accompanied by orchestra. He was particularly praised by his instructors for his “sophisticated harmonies, counterpoint and fugue,” all this despite relatively little formal training. Cherubini called him “the very personification of music.”
  • Unfortunately, Arriaga’s brilliance was cut short. He died just short of his twentieth birthday on January 17, 1826, from a lung ailment, possibly tuberculosis or fatigue as a consequence of overexertion due to his meteoric trajectory. Upon his death, a trunk with his violin and some of his manuscripts was sent to his father’s house in Bilbo. It was left in an attic where it remained abandoned for years until it was rescued, almost half a century later, by a relative in 1869.
  • The Teatro Arriaga in Bilbo, which opened in 1890, was named after the famed composer in 1902.
  • You can find a playlist of some of his compositions – many have been lost to time – on Youtube.

Primary sources: Sagardia Sagardia, Ángel. Arriaga, Juan Crisóstomo (1806-1826). Auñamendi Encyclopedia, 2024. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/arriaga-juan-crisostomo-1806-1826/ar-4933/; Juan Crisóstomo Arriaga, Wikipedia; Juan Crisóstomo de Arriaga, Wikipedia

Adventures of Maite and Kepa, Buber's Basque Story

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 179

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Weeks had passed and classes were about to begin for Maite. Kepa had continued to check out the local bars to see if anyone could use a bartender or waiter, but so far, he hadn’t found anything he liked. Or rather, no one had seemed to like him. He had been let go from his first job in the Parte Vieja and no one since had been willing to give him a chance. They all told him that helping out at the local taberna in a small village simply didn’t compare to the bustle of the big city – none of them thought he could keep up. Eventually, he decided he needed to go a bit away from the heart of the city and check out some of the quieter neighborhoods, maybe a side street, and see if anyone there might give him a chance.

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

“Egun on,” he said as he entered what was probably his fifth stop today. 

A woman stood behind the bar drying glasses. She was probably in her late forties. Her black hair, pulled tight into a bun behind her head, showed a few streaks of silver running through it. She wore a loose-fitting t-shirt that looked like it might have been as old as Kepa. The words “Negu Gorriak” were emblazoned across the front. 

“Barkatu,” she said without looking up. “But we are closed. We open at 2. Come back later.”

“I’m not here to eat or drink,” replied Kepa tentatively – the woman gave off an almost hostile vibe. “I was hoping you might be looking to hire.”

“Hire?” replied the woman quizzically as she put the glass down and looked up. Her striking grey eyes almost seemed to pierce Kepa. “What do you mean, hire?”

“I’m…” stammered Kepa. “I’m trying to find work,” he finally belted out. “Anything really.”

“Do you know how to cook?” asked the woman.

“Only what my ama taught me,” replied Kepa sheepishly. He wasn’t sure why, but this woman really made him feel uncomfortable. She exuded a confidence, a power, that took him off guard.

“Etorri,” barked the woman as she passed behind the bar to the kitchen. Once there, she pointed at the stove. “Make me a tortilla.”

Kepa scanned the kitchen, locating a pan and the fridge where he assumed the eggs would be.

“How do you like it?” he asked.

“Very good question,” replied the woman with a smile. “Most people don’t bother to ask. I like mine just a little gooey inside.”

Kepa smiled as he hefted the pan in his hand. “The same as me.”

He cracked the eggs and peeled the potatoes. Soon the pan was sizzling. He knew it was a risk, but he decided he needed to do whatever he could to impress the woman. He flipped the tortilla in the air and caught it dead center in the pan. Moments later, he was plating a slice and handing it to the woman.

“Not bad,” judged the woman as she took a bite. “Do you think you can do it any faster?”

“Probably,” replied Kepa.

“Oso ondo. Come back tomorrow around 12.”

As Kepa was about to leave the bar, he turned to see the woman back behind the counter, continuing to dry glasses. 

“Eskerrik asko,” he began and then paused.

“Iratxe,” she replied. “See you tomorrow.”

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

Basque Fact of the Week, Folklore

Basque Fact of the Week: Inguma, the Bringer of Nightmares

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Humans have always needed explanations for why bad things happen. If a crop went bad or a violent storm destroyed the harvest, maybe a wizard was the cause. Or maybe someone had not paid the proper tribute to a god or goddess. Bad dreams and nightmares are probably one of the most confounding experiences for people. Why would our brains subject us to such misery? Well, according to the Basques, it might be because Inguma was sitting on your chest and squeezing your throat.

Rendition of an Inguma about to attack his victim by Raul Fernandez. Image found on DeviantArt.
  • Inguma (called Maumau in some parts of Euskal Herria) is a malevolent spirit that comes into peoples’ homes once they are asleep. He often enters in the form of a fog that squeezes through cracked windows or door locks. He presses on the sleeper’s throat, making it hard to breathe and instilling fear in his victims. He is the bringer of bad dreams and nightmares. At his worst, Inguma can cause sleep paralysis and even death. It’s as if he drowns his victims.
  • In some places, he is envisioned as a heavy animal, maybe a black dog, that sits on the sleeper’s chest. Interestingly, Inguma can also mean butterfly in Euskara. I’m not sure if that is coincidence or not.
  • Throughout the Basque Country, there are incantations people invoke to keep Inguma at bay. A few of these include:
    • In Ezpeleta: Inguma, enauk hire bildur, Jinkoa eta Andre Maria Artzentiat lagun; Zeruan izar, lurrean belar, Kostan hare Hek guziak kondatu arte Ehadiela nereganat ager.
      Inguma, I do not fear you. I take God and Mother Mary as protectors. In the sky, the stars; on earth, the blades of grass; on the coast, the grains of sand; until you have counted them all, do not come to me.
    • In Ithorrotz, they add: Hi, aldiz, jin akitala, Gauarguia!
      Instead, you come to me, Gauarguia! (Gauargia, the night light, is a benign spirit that appears as a point of light and is a counter to Inguma.)
    • In Amézqueta: Amandre Santa Inés, / bart egin det amets; / berriz egin eztezadala / ez gaitzez ta ez onez.
      Lady Holy Mother Agnes, I dreamed last night; may I not dream again, neither for bad nor for good. (Saint Agnes, the Virgin Mary, and Saint Andrew are often invoked to protect against nightmares)
  • Other spirits similar to Inguma are Aideko, who is responsible for all diseases whose natural causes are not known, and Gaizkiñe who, by forming rooster-headed figures with the feathers of the pillow, causes serious illness to those who lie on it. Only by burning such figures can the disease be cured.

Primary sources: Barandiaran Ayerbe, José Miguel de; Elia Itzultzaile automatikoa. INGUMA. Auñamendi Encyclopedia, 2024. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/inguma/ar-74437/; Inguma, Wikipedia

Adventures of Maite and Kepa, Buber's Basque Story

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 178

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“That was… weird,” said Kepa, after Amalur had vanished. He still sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the sheet. Maite sat next to him, feeling sticky from her run and wanting nothing more than a shower. But she sensed that he needed to talk so she remained by his side.

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

“It was certainly unexpected,” she added. “But, I have to say that I feel almost infinitely better having some basic sense of how these zatiak and this magic work.”

“I’m just confused,” said Kepa as if he hadn’t really heard her. “If all of this is connected to Amalur, why didn’t Marina tell us? Why the secret? Are we, in the end, doing all of this for Amalur or are we doing it for Marina?”

“That’s a good question,” replied Maite as she stood. She stared out the window of their apartment. She could see Mount Urgell rising nearby, though the statue of Christ that adorned the top was hidden from her view. “And what about de Lancre? I’m starting to think there is more to him than just an overzealous inquisitor.”

Kepa nodded. “None of this makes sense. But I’m not sure how we get answers.”

“Amalur isn’t going to help us,” scoffed Maite. “All she does is speak in riddles.”

She sighed as she plopped down next to Kepa again. She poked him in the shoulder. “At least I know what you are.”

Kepa smiled. “And what is that exactly?”

With a mischievous smile, Maite lifted the sheet that covered Kepa and peaked underneath.

—

It was approaching late afternoon. Maite and Kepa were wandering the Parte Vieja, taking in the different sights and sounds. As was often the case, the old part of town was filled with tourists. Most looked out of place, either by how they dressed or their facial features. Once in a while Maite saw someone she suspected had Basque ancestry. She wondered if some of them might be related to those old sheepherders they had encountered in Bakersfield, the distant grandson or granddaughter of the men and women who she got to know in the boarding house. It seemed so long ago, and in some ways, it really was. More than a century in their lives. But, for her, it wasn’t even a year ago. She winced as the memory of Kepa being shot flashed through her mind. She shook her head and pointed to a side alley.

“Let’s get a drink,” she said. 

The pub was quiet, lying just slightly off the beaten path that the pintxo guides herded the tourists along. Maite went up to the bar and ordered a kalitxiki for herself and a zurito for Kepa. 

“What now?” asked Kepa as Maite returned with their drinks. 

“I think we involve Amalur as much as we can in this,” replied Maite. “You know how to summon her now. We can always pull her in whenever we want.”

“I suspect she might start ignoring us if we do it too much.”

“Perhaps, but she seems to have a vested interest in the zatiak. I think she will help as she can.”

“Why doesn’t she simply collect the zatiak herself?” mused Kepa. “Why have us chase through time to collect them? I’d think she would be so much more effective.”

Maite shrugged. “Maybe she can’t for some reason? Maybe she can’t enter the bubbles?”

“If she can’t enter the bubbles, how can we summon her from inside one?”

“Oh,” replied Maite, realizing the contradiction in what she had just suggested. “I guess I don’t know. Maybe we can’t.”

“This is all so frustrating,” said Kepa as he took a sip of his beer. “It’s so complicated. It really doesn’t make any sense.”

“For the moment, all we can do is push forward, keep looking for zatiak when we get the chance, and hope that with time we begin to understand what is going on. We know much more now than we did before, right?”

Kepa nodded. “That’s true.” He paused as he took another sip. “Should we tell Marina that we know about Amalur?”

Maite shook her head. “Not yet. I think we are better off keeping that to ourselves for now.”

Kepa nodded again as he finished his beer.

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

Basque Fact of the Week, History

Basque Fact of the Week: Bilbo’s Iron Ring, a Defense that Failed

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“The best-laid plans of mice and men…” Well, one can argue that Bilbo’s Iron Ring, meant to protect the city from the advancing forces of Franco, wasn’t even the best of plans. Fraught with poor and antiquated ideas, it was then sabotaged as the main designer switched sides. In the end, the Iron Ring did little to delay the advance or to protect the city.

Part of the fortifications that comprised Bilbo’s Iron Ring. Image found at Gogora.
  • The Iron Ring, or Cinturón de Hierro in Spanish and Bilboko Burdin Hesia in Basque, was developed by the Basque government during the Spanish Civil War. The network of tunnels and trenches was meant to be a defense against the incoming fascist forces. This network consisted of two rings that was supported by artillery. Construction began on October 8, 1936, with nearly 11,000 workers. The first fortifications were built in places around Bilbo including Urduliz, Artebacarra, Miravalles, Sodupe, Ciérvana, Lujua, and Lauquiniz. The total length of the network was some 80 kilometers, or about 50 miles.
  • However, the Iron Ring was plagued with challenges from the beginning. The idea of trench warfare, prevalent during the First World War, was already antiquated by the time the Spanish Civil War started. The whole network was poorly designed and didn’t leverage any natural defense points. It was easily spotted from the air. Further, the fortifications were designed to be manned and held by some 70,000 troops, but in the end only 30,000 were available.
  • Even more devastatingly, the engineer that designed the network, Alejandro Goicoechea, crossed lines in February 1937. Born in Elorrio in 1895, Goicoechea was a locomotive engineer before, and after, the war. He took with him plans for the Iron Ring that detailed its construction and the placement of all of those tunnels and trenches. To be fair, the fascist avian forces had already photographed the entire construction effort, so it isn’t clear that Goicoechea gave them much they didn’t already know. In any case, when the fascist forces did arrive, during the Battle of Bilbo, the fortifications fell within 2 days.
  • Goicoechea was actually the second engineer placed in charge of building the Iron Ring. Before him, there was Pablo Murga. But Murga, who was known to have sympathies with the fascist, had written detailed plans about the fortifications that were found with the detained consul of Austria-Hungary, Wilhelm Wakonigg. Murga was removed from the project and executed on November 19, 1936.
  • Today, you can walk along and explore some of the remnants of the fortifications. Archeologists are also trying to excavate the tunnels. Lately, police have had to deal with thieves that plunder artifacts from the Iron Ring.

Primary sources: Bilbao’s Iron Ring, Wikipedia; El Cinturón de Hierro by Imanol Villa, El Correo; Cinturón de Hierro de Bilbao, Wikipedia

Adventures of Maite and Kepa, Buber's Basque Story

The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 177

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Maite and Kepa sat there, staring dumbly at Amalur as she continued to morph between her three forms. Kepa couldn’t quite tell if they were three distinct personalities or just different variations of the same person. No, person wasn’t quite right. You didn’t call an ancient earth goddess a person. But, he wasn’t quite sure what to call her. Goddess was probably the best thing, now that he thought about it.

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

“Goddesses,” he began.

Amalur, appearing now as a composite of her three forms that some how both completely confused his brain but was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, nodded her head down toward him, as if acknowledging him.

“Bai,” he stuttered before continuing. “What happens to the people when the bubbles burst?”

A flash of sadness seemed to ripple across Amalur’s face before it regained its stoic composure.

“They are simply gone,” she answered.

“Erased from existence?” asked Kepa horrified.

Amalur floated closer to him and touched his forehead. “Some still exist, here.”

“Like Latxe,” muttered Kepa, a tear welling in his eye.

Maite brushed aside the confused feelings of sympathy and jealousy she felt at the mention of Latxe’s name as she turned to Amalur. “Who is de Lancre? Who is he, really?”

Amalur feigned confusion. “What do you mean? He is de Lancre, of course.”

“Ez, ez,” replied Maite, shaking her head. “He isn’t just another man, there is something more there. What is it?”

Amalur sighed as her formed morphed into that of Ilargia, the goddess of the moon. “Something more?” her icy voice repeated, sending a chill down Maite’s spine. “Perhaps, or perhaps he is all the evil of humankind personified.”

Maite shook her head. “There is no good nor evil. Just humans making bad choices, or selfish choices.”

Eguzki’s radiance filled the room as she shifted form again. Maite had to turn away as the brightness grew with Eguzki’s smile. “Can that not be a definition of evil?”

Maite threw her hands up in frustration. “Fine, be all cryptic with your answers.” She folded her arms as she sat on the bed, pouting.

“What happens when we collect all of the zatiak?” asked Kepa.

“You cannot,” replied Amalur, this time, appearing in a new form, an elderly amuma with a sad visage. “After you count the stars in the sky, the blades of grass on the earth, and the grains of sand on the coast, there are still more zatiak.”

With that answer, Amalur faded and vanished from the room.

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

Basque Fact of the Week, Folklore, People

Basque Fact of the Week: Pedro de Axular, the Man and the Myth

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There are some people that become larger than life, who take on new roles in the popular imagination because of their accomplishment and become legendary characters in their own right. Axular is one such person. A priest who served many years in the Lapurdi town of Sara, he became mythic, the protagonist of local legends. Most of the time, we lose the connection between the myth and reality, but in this case, we know a bit more…

Imaginary portrait of Axular, drawing by Jose Eizagirre in Aiestaran. Image from Wikipedia.
  • Pedro de Aguerre y Azpilicueta was born in 1556 in Urdax (Nafarroa) in the house for which he was known, Axular. Little is known about his early life. He likely attended school at the local monastery of San Salvador, founded in the ninth century. He later studied at the University of Salamanca. We don’t know what he studied but we know his knowledge was extensive, based on his writings.
  • He was ordained a subdeacon in Pamplona/Iruña in 1584 when he was 28 years old. After several years bouncing between different posts, he became the parish priest of the village of Sara in Lapurdi in 1600. Another priest disputed his appointment, arguing he deserved it more and that Axular was a foreigner but eventually, with the favor of Henry IV, King of France and Nafarroa, Axular was able to maintain the position.
  • He remained in Sara until his death in 1644 at the age of 88. He created an environment in which religious debate flourished and he was also involved in efforts to use the Basque language to reconvert Christians.
  • Perhaps his single greatest achievement is his work Gero (Later). Printed in Bordeaux the year before he died, Gero is considered one of the greatest literary works in Basque. Written in the dialect of Lapurdi, it is known throughout the Basque Country. The work, comprised of sixty chapters, advocates an ascetic lifestyle – abstaining from sensual pleasure – and emphasizes the harm in delaying one’s religious duties and obligations. Its title is inspired by the Basque proverb Gero dioenak bego dio – Whoever says later, says leave it. Thus, Axular is really emphasizing the dangers in procrastination and being lazy in one’s duties.
  • Beyond its religious theme, Gero has been analyzed for its prose and reasoned arguments. He wrote Gero as if it were a sermon to his parishioners. Because of its impact, some consider Axular the Shakespeare of Euskara: a model of language that others should hold as a standard. Some elements that others have praised include his use of popular sayings to get the attention of the reader and his use of language to lighten what is a rather heavy topic.
  • Axular’s fame was such that he became part of the local stories, taking the place of other mythological figures. He thus became the protagonist in stories involving the devil Etsai, who though an erudite teacher also held some of his students in servitude.

Primary sources: Estornés Lasa, Bernardo. Axular, Pedro (1556-1644). Auñamendi Encyclopedia. Available at: https://aunamendi.eusko-ikaskuntza.eus/en/axular-pedro-1556-1644/ar-6754/; Gero, Wikipedia; Axular, Wikipedia