I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season! I hope to get the theme updated soon so all of the links to the various pages on my site are visible again. Until then, here are some Christmas-related pages:
Christmas in the Basque Country
Scores for some Basque Christmas Songs
Have a great Christmas everyone! Zorionak eta Urte Berri On!
Probably most Basque-Americans are vaguely familiar with who Robert Laxalt was, though the Laxalt name might be more recognizable because of his brother, Paul Laxalt, who was a Senator from and Governor of Nevada. Robert was a writer who distilled the Basque-American experience into simple but stark stories of life in the Nevada hills. His stories explored Basque identity both in the American West as well as in the Basque Country, which was the focus of a couple of his books. My favorite book of his, though, doesn’t deal with the Basques at all. A Man In The Wheatfield deals with a small rural western American town and the people and their fears that govern the life within the town. It’s been a long time and I’ve forgotten most of it, but I remember a scene dealing with rattlesnakes that was pretty intense (clearly, I need to go back and read his books again!). The other minor anecdote I have about Laxalt is that, by pure chance, browsing a used bookstore in Albuquerque I ran across a signed copy of one of his books, a cool buried treasure I chanced upon.
If you haven’t read any of his books, I would highly recommend them, even to someone with minimal or no interest in the Basques themselves. Laxalt’s writing is wonderful and paints a vivid picture of life in the American West. It’s not for nothing that he was nominated for the Pulitzer twice.
This all brings me to a new book, a biography of Laxalt by Warren Lerude entitled Robert Laxalt: Story of a Storyteller, published by the Center for Basque Studies at the University of Nevada, Reno. I haven’t read Professor Lerude’s biography yet, but I’m hoping it captures that magic I encountered in reading Laxalt’s words. You can read some advance praise about the book here and here.
Because of some legacy files from my WordPress installation that had been compromised, my site kept being used to send massive amounts of spam, which caused my service provider to block my account to prevent more spam from being sent out. I’m upgrading the software, but it’s going to take me a little while to get everything worked out. All of the files are there, but the menus are missing to find them. I hope to get them all back very soon. If you find broken links, I’d very much appreciate you letting me know.
Eskerrik asko, and sorry for the inconvenience.
Blas
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do any updates. I hope to do a series of them over the next few weeks and get reasonably “caught up”.
A while back, I blogged about a new journal, BOGA, that intended to take up the reins of the former Journal of Basque Studies in America as a vehicle for publishing original research about the Basque people and culture in English. BOGA’s mission statement is:
This journal is a multi-disciplinary, peer-reviewed academic publication dedicated to the scholarly study of all aspects of Basque culture with the aspiration to foster a better understanding of Basque culture and heritage in its diverse aspects by disseminating original works of interest to an English speaking audience and to encourage interaction–learning links–among academics from various learning traditions; e.g., linguistic, philosophical, anthropological, ethnological, historic, literary, artistic, religious, economic, cultural, international relations, etc.
It is very exciting to report that BOGA has launched its inaugural issue! The issue features articles by William Douglass on Basque Immigration to the United States, an article on Basque literature by David Laraway, and another on the Etxepare Institute by Sho Hagio.
I’m not very familiar with the original Journal of Basque Studies in America, beyond an article I wrote in 2000 on the then-state of the Basque presence on the Internet, but it seems that BOGA takes the scholarship of the Journal to another level, and is thus an admirable successor to the spirit of the Journal of Basque Studies in America that provides an excellent vehicle for promoting the Basques and their culture.
Zorionak Boga!
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do any updates. I hope to do a series of them over the next few weeks and get reasonably “caught up”.
Pedro Oiarzabal has been a dedicated researcher of the use of the internet and modern media to connect peoples, especially diasporas separated by great distances and, in many cases, language and local culture. His most recent book on the subject just came out. The Basque Diaspora Webscape: Identity, Nation, and Homeland, 1990s-2010s looks at how the internet helps not only transmit culture, but helps shape identity, at how the internet provides a vehicle to promote culture in a new way. I haven’t had the chance to read it yet, but it looks like a very interesting look at how an ancient culture such as that of the Basques intersects with the most modern means of communication to create something new.
You can learn more about the book by listening to Pedro’s interview for Radio Euskadi (in Spanish).
Zorionak Pedro!
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do any updates. I hope to do a series of them over the next few weeks and get reasonably “caught up”.
“We need to turn the page. But we should read it first.” –Gorka Landaburu.
To understand the recent history and current reality of the Basque Country, one cannot ignore Euskadi ta Askatasuna, better known by its initials ETA. Since the 1960s, ETA has been a constant presence in the politics of the Basque Country. Only a few years ago did ETA finally declare, nominally, a permanent cease fire, though there are still some who doubt it is real.
Mark Bieter, who also writes an excellent blog, has written an insightful perspective on the history of ETA and ETA’s place in the history of Spain and the Basque Country entitled “The Rise and Fall of ETA”, published in The Blue Review. The focus is on the aftermath of ETA, now that it has presumably ceased activity, but Mark also summarizes ETA’s origins and its history. His article is peppered with commentary from politicians, journalists, and historians who try to place ETA in the context of the Basque Country’s history.
There are two incidents that stand out in the things I remember most from my year in the Basque Country (1991-92). First, I recall entering a bar in the Parte Vieja of Donosti, which must have had strong sympathies with ETA. When one of the patrons learned that me and my friend were Basque-American, he began telling us, in his alcohol-induced slur, that we were brothers and that we must fight the Spanish, together. A second event occurred in a small town in Bizkaia. I was driving with a friend and we passed a Renault dealership that ETA had fire-bombed, because it was a French company and the French had just arrested some members of ETA. My friend reacted very strongly, saying how ETA was destroying the Basque Country. This wasn’t an “immigrant” from the southern part of Spain, but a man from the rural countryside who’s first language as a kid, even in Franco’s Spain, was Basque.
So, even to a visitor, ETA’s presence was strong, but the context for its existence and actions was something that was difficult for someone who was not from the region to fully appreciate. Mark does this nicely, providing both a history and a perspective that is written both well and compellingly. Eskerrik asko, Mark!
A couple of weeks ago, during a work trip to Washington, DC, I met up with a couple of the members of the DC Euskal Etxea. I’ve mentioned Mark Bieter a few times in the past, as he writes a very insightful blog about many things, including things Basque. Sam Zengotitabengoa (ok, I admit, I had to look that up) has been heavily involved in the DC club for a while. While I’ve chatted with them virtually, we’d never met, and I figured this was a good opportunity to meet a few more Basque-os.
Talking with these guys was a real treat. They both have strong interests in the Basque Country — the politics, the culture, the now of the Basque Country. For me, this is the heart of my own interest. I understand the importance of the things that are central to Basque-American culture, particularly the dancing, but the dancing and such holds little interest to me. My personal passion for things Basque was ignited when I went to live there. I went with the goal of learning Euskara, but during that year I discovered music beyond the accordion, both odd folk music such as txalaparta but also avant garde punk music that resonated more with me. I discovered rural villages where basseriak dotted the landscape and people lived off the land, but also thriving metropolises where anything and everything modern existed, including spectacular buildings, gorgeous beaches, and polluted rivers (big cities do have downsides…). I discovered a culture that was firmly rooted in tradition with an odd and ancient language celebrated through bertsos but also one that kept an eye on the future, invested heavily in cutting edge science and technology. It was this dynamic blend of tradition and progress that captured my imagination. This, for me, is the essence of the Basque experience.
So, it is always a great pleasure to meet others that share the same passion, the same perspectives on the Basque Country. Over maybe one or two too many beers, settled in a bar in a way that isn’t all that possible in the Basque Country (I do like both ways of enjoying fine beverages), we chatted about many things, including politics, identity, sports, and Basque culture in America. It was simply just nice to talk about Basque culture and the Basque Country with people who had a deep and personal investment in the Basque Country itself.
Eskerrik asko Mark and Sam. I look forward to future “meetings” in the pub.
As many of you already know, Pete Cenarrusa, a long time politician in Idaho (the longest serving elected official in state history) died on September 29. It didn’t take long after his death for his life to be questioned in the Spanish press, particularly as it related to an incident in 2002 when the Idaho legislature, at the behest of Pete and then representative Dave Bieter, passed a non-binding resolution that supported the Basque right to self-determination.
In response, a number of Basque bloggers around the world wrote a joint defense of Pete Cenarrusa. With their permission and encouragement, I repost that blog here.
Since the time of the original post, journalist Dan Popkey has written an article published in the Idaho Statesman regarding both the initiative to defend Pete as well as providing some clarifying details: Cenarrusa still stirs pot in Spain.
Pete Cenarrusa died last week at age 95. To begin with, it’s strange to speak of “defending” Pete from anything. He was a wonderful person, somebody many of us admired and respected. His parents were immigrants who grew up in neighboring Basque towns but who met thousands of miles away in the middle of Idaho. Pete’s first language was Basque, and he kept speaking it for the rest of the life, sometimes throwing in English words along the way.
Pete went to the University of Idaho, where he was on the boxing team and completed degrees in agriculture and animal husbandry (at age 92, he blogged that his favorite courses were nutrition, organic chemistry, and bacteriology—“I would recommend these courses to everyone in college.”) He joined the Marines in 1942 and became an aviation instructor. He flew for 59 years, more than 15,000 hours of flight time without an accident.
Pete was elected as a Republican to the Idaho House of Representatives in 1950 and served nine terms, including three as House Speaker. In 1967, when Idaho’s secretary of state died, the governor appointed him to fill the position, where he served until 2003. He wasn’t a politician from central casting. As his friend and successor said at his funeral, Pete wasn’t a good public speaker; but unlike most politicians, Pete knew it. Still, it’s hard to argue with success: Pete never lost an election, and he was in public office for 52 years, the longest-serving elected official in Idaho history.
Then the Spanish national newspaper ABC published an “obituary” by Javier Ruperez, the former Spanish ambassador to the United States. Ruperez calls Pete a “Basque separatist,” a man filled with “blind obstinacy” against Spain “until the very day of his death.” It was a piece written with venom saved up from an event that happened more than a decade ago, spewed out just a couple days after Pete died. Pete can’t stand up for himself now. That’s why we feel a strong obligation to do so.
PETE CENARRUSA (1917-2013)
IDAHO RANCHER, BASQUE SEPARATIST
Deceased at 96, Cenarrusa – which was the way he had shortened his paternal surname Zenarruzabeita – had the leading role in Idaho’s political and social scene for almost six decades, being elected several times to the local legislature and carrying out for years the role of Secretary of State in the rustic territory. His parents emigrated from the Basque Country to the United States at the beginning of the 20th century, as many of their compatriots did in those days, in response to the call for sheepherders to run the significant number of livestock in the American West.
From early on, conscious of his Basque origins, he tried to promote individual and collective memories in the environment of his countrymen, an activity that took a noticeable nationalist tone in the 1960s. He wasn’t awarded the prize “Sabino Arana” to the “universal Basque” by the Basque Nationalist Party for nothing.
It was in 2002 when these nationalist inclinations took shape in the attempt to make the Idaho legislature adopt a memorial that ignored ETA’s terrorist activities, demanded a favorable disposition from Spain and France to negotiate “the end of the conflict,” and asked for the self-determination of the Basque Country. Cenarrusa was the inspirer and visible leader of the attempt, for which he had the support of Ibarreche’s Basque government and Batasuna’s contacts incarnated in journalists for “Gara” and “Egunkaria”, regular visitors of the land where they received the hospitality of then local legislator and now mayor of Boise, Idaho’s capital, David Bieter.
The government of Jose Maria Aznar warned George W. Bush’s White House about the maneuver, and made Idaho legislators realize the inconvenience of adopting texts which were offensive to a friend and allied country such as Spain. The spokesman for the Department of State made a strong statement during those days that said, among other things: “The Spanish people suffer the violence carried out by a terrorist organization called ETA on a regular basis.” Exactly what the memo Cenarrusa/Bieter/Ibarreche/ Gara/Egunkaria did not want to gather. And that to the dismay of its sponsors ended up written in the amended text, which was eventually approved by the Idaho legislature.
It was in January 2003 when Idaho’s Senate president had the opportunity to communicate to the representatives of the Spanish government his regret for what happened, blaming it on the extreme ignorance by local representatives about Spanish affairs and the generalized willingness to please Cenarrusa in the last initiative he took on before retiring from his role as Secretary of State. Robert L. Geddes had begged the veteran rancher and politician of Basque origins that “the next time he wanted to declare war on Spain he give him prior notice to avoid misunderstandings.” On that same occasion Idaho’s Senate made the Spanish ambassador in Washington honorary citizen of the State. And Spain officially named Adelia Garro Simplot, another Basque descendant, honorary consul in the area. Garro is the abbreviation of Garroguerricoechevarria. Cenarrusa, who had not thrown in the towel in his blind obstinacy against constitutional and democratic Spain until the very day of his death, wasn’t able to make himself the only representative of Idaho’s Basque community.
As Mark Twain would say, not all deaths are received in the same way.
And an important bit of background: Ruperez , the author, was kidnapped by the Basque terrorist group ETA in 1979. He was held for a month. After he was released, 26 Basque prisoners were freed from prison, and the Spanish parliament agreed to create a special commission to investigate charges of torture of Basque prisoners. We can’t imagine what Rupérez went through, and we wish it would never have happened. It would certainly shape one’s world view. But Pete had nothing to do with that horrible event, and we know he would have condemned it. And that’s where Rupérez is horribly wrong about Pete and about Basques generally.
Toward the end of his career, Pete announced the introduction of a declaration in the Idaho legislature that addressed a critical series of events in the Basque Country and Spain. The declaration, officially known as a “memorial,” called on leaders in the United States and Spain to undertake a peace process. In 2002, Ruperez caught wind of the memorial and immediately flew out to Idaho, alerted the Spanish prime minister, the State Department, and the White House. Suddenly, a declaration by the legislature of a small Western state blew up and became international news.
As the memorial got close to a vote, there was a lot of back and forth among the many parties that had suddenly become involved. But Pete’s reaction was pitch perfect—paraphrasing him: Since when did the United States start running its foreign policy by foreign governments? In the end, the Idaho legislature unanimously approved this memorial. It described the history of Basques in Idaho, the earlier actions by the Idaho legislature to condemn the repression of Franco’s dictatorship, the efforts of Basques to maintain their culture, and all “but a marginalized fraction” of Basques’ condemnation of violence.
Perfect or not, it was a unanimous statement by a democratically elected, autonomous state legislature. But it seems to have haunted Ruperez all these years. Barely 72 hours after Pete had died, Rupérez condemned Pete as “the inspirer and visible leader” of an effort that turned a blind eye at violence, an effort that an Idaho Senate leader later purportedly told him was the result of the “extreme ignorance by local representatives” about Spanish affairs and “the generalized willingness to please Cenarrusa in the last initiative he took on before retiring.” Rupérez suggests that Pete was not typical of Idaho’s Basque community, that there were others who are worthier representatives.
Ruperez closes with a quote he says comes from Mark Twain: “Not all deaths are received in the same way.” Maybe that’s true. Either way, we can assure Mr. Ruperez that Pete’s death was received with a great deal of sadness and with the respect worthy of somebody who had done great things with his life. We would like to conclude by using another quote from Mark Twain that clearly suits perfectly for people like Javier Rupérez: “Better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”
Agur eta ohore, Pete.
Signed by:
Here are some recent stories I found particularly interesting.
In September, Elhuyar will publish the 300th issue of its science journal, Elhuyar Zientzia eta Teknologia. The journal was created in 1974 to promote the use of Basque in technical and scientific fields. More info here.
Elhuyar is an organization named after the Basque Elhuyar brothers, who in 1783 isolated the element tungsten for the first time.
The Basque cycling team, Euskadi-Euskaltel, was in danger of loosing its sponsor, Euskaltel, the Basque telecommunications company. You might recognize the bright orange jersey the Euskaltel riders wear. Fernando Alonso, a formula one race car driver (who is currently second in the F1 world championship race), has agreed to take over the team. Alonso is also a past winner of the F1 championships. His involvement provides some assurance that the Basque riding team will continue on. More info here.
If you are planning a trip to the Basque Country any time soon, these two articles might give some inspiration. First, Alice Short writes in the LA Times about her adventure in the food of the Basque Country, from the now famous Arzak to a few random and pleasant discoveries. Then, Fiona Duncan describes her discovery of Biarritz, now a thriving surfing city, and the rest of the Côte Basque.
Dendrochronology is the study of the age of wood and is used to both identify the age and origin of wood, for example used to make boats. Dendrochronology has been used to identify the origins of a ship found in the bay of Newport, in the United Kingdom and it has been determined that the ship, indeed, had origins in the Basque Country. More info here.
My brother got married a couple of weeks ago (Zorionak Tony and Christmas!) and some of my dad’s family came over from Spain for the festivities, including my dad’s brother and sister, two sisters-in-law, and several nieces and nephews with their significant others. 13 in all, a large crew that made even the simplest of activities a challenge in coordination.
We started off with dinner at Louis’ Basque Corner in downtown Reno. We got there late as they had a long drive from San Francisco. So, we sat down and the courses started coming out — beans and chorizo, followed by salad, then lamb. By the time the lamb came out, they were starting to make noises about how much food it was, and we hadn’t even gotten to dessert yet…
…which takes me to an aside. Whenever I go to the Basque Country, every meal is a big event and each family wants to host one. For them, it is one big fancy meal hosting the American nephew/cousin, but for me it is a series of gorging fests and I literally put on 5-10 pounds after about a week. Plates and plates come out of the kitchen and I’m constantly told “come mas!” as I clean up all of the plates (ok, I enjoy the food, but the quantities are a little daunting)…
So now, the shoe is on the other foot, and they are being given American portions, which are typically bigger than other places, though in all, probably not any more than what I typically am fed in Euskadi. And they are complaining about too much food. The next few days continue the trend. We spend a few days in Tahoe where we made lunch and dinner. Cooking for 13 (and a few more) meant that much of the day was centered on preparing food and then eating. By the end of the day, they were wanting more time to do things and less time centered around food. Something I think all the time when I’m there.
One night, we went to a Japanese restaurant for dinner, one of those where the cook prepares the food right in front of you. He put some oil on the grill and lit it. A big fire ball flared up, and my uncle jumped back in his seat in surprise. But, even worse was when he asked where the bread is. I responded “no hay pan” and the look on his face couldn’t have been worse if I had just shot his favorite dog. He was truely horrified. Though, in the end, he did adapt (though I had to finish his dinner! Too much food again! I can’t count how many times I’ve been told, in Euskadi, to eat more and you won’t have to eat tomorrow).
Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and enjoyed spending these few days with them. My dad spent many hours playing Mus with his nephews and had a great time. And it was really nice getting to know my cousins and their significant others better. Being “confined” with them meant much more interaction than I normally get in Euskadi. But it was entertaining to see the shoe on the other foot and them getting a taste of their own medicine, so to speak. I’m not sure they really saw it that way, I guess we’ll see the next time I visit them in the old country!
