Happy Sant Jordi’s Day
April 23rd is Sant Jord’s Day, which is a big deal in Barcelona. It celebrates the victory of St. George, who slew a dragon threatening a rural village, but is based on real events in the 4th century, when Romans killed a Christian knight named George.
The legend: A dragon was visiting destruction on a European village (later Identified as Montblanc) and burning homes and eating the animals in the fields. After first offering sheep to the dragon, and after the animals were gone, the village selected young women by lottery to satiate the dragon’s hunger. When the king’s daughter was picked, the king called for George, a famous and fearless knight, who killed the dragon with a lance to the heart, and, where the blood pooled on the ground, a rose garden appeared. The knight cut a rose and gave it to the princess, so the day celebrates love, represented by roses. Centuries later, World Book Day was moved to the 23rd to jointly celebrate love and literature.
George, or Jordi, became the patron saint of Catalunya, and his day became a national holiday. As World Book Day, it also commemorates the deaths of three famous writers, all of whom died on the 23rd: Cervantes, Shakespeare, and Inca Garcilaso de la Vega (a Peruvian) in 1616; Josep Pla, a Spaniard, died on the same date in 1981.
The streets are full of makeshift booths selling roses and books, and current authors are on hand to sell and sign their own books. Buildings and balconies are covered in roses; you can see Gaudi’s famous Casa Batlló if you scroll down to last year’s post.
As for the non-historical, my life is pleasant, if quiet. I’m studying Catalan, which is a struggle, since my facility with language has suffered somewhat over the years (or, it’s the medications) and also due a particularly obnoxious student who, despite being level 3, decided to join my level 1 class and use it as an opportunity to practice speaking. He engages the teacher and talks non-stop, and the teacher does not control him. Many students have left the class, because we don’t practice basic speaking skills as we need to; and the rest of us are waiting for the class to end and move to the next level. It takes all of my self-control, which is waning, to not take over and throw him out. I sent an email to the teacher expressing my frustration and concerns; when she told him he had to leave, he refused. And, as ex-pat, I have to monitor my behavior because of my cultural status as the only American in the room. Our people are already known as clueless bullies who talk too much and too loudly, as modeled by our current president, who is furious with Spain for not helping him in his war with Iran. When DJT called for a cease-fire, the prime minister commented that he would not thank someone for setting the world on fire and then showing up with a bucket.
What a world.
The weather is lovely, sunny and cool, but there’s that spring pollen, a particularly insidious local which drives everyone crazy. People are either sneezing, crying and/or wearing masks. This year, I suffered for about a week until my doctor put me on a great antihistamine. I’m fine now.
Spain just passed a new law which is, in fact, their version of amnesty. Thousands of immigrants are now eligible for legal status and healthcare, and they will now pay taxes. There are long lines around the municipal buildings, where people are camping overnight because the offices close at 2:00 pm.
Spain is one of the least populist countries I’ve seen and welcomes immigrants. Their antipathy to tourists comes from the shortage of affordable housing in the cities where people work. This is not just a Spanish problem; rents have gone up everywhere since the pandemic taught people to work at home. However, blame is being placed on the AirBnB-like companies who buy up the apartments and then rent them for exorbitant prices to short-term renters. Most folks assume I’m French or Belgian and treat me well.
I’ve read several non-remarkable books. I did enjoy some streaming series: Young Sherlock was entertaining, as was Detective Hole, based on a book by my favorite Norwegian mystery writer, Jo Nesbo. Young Wallander, based on the novels of the prolific Swedish author Henning Mankell, is a spin-off from the wonderful 2008 series with Kenneth Branagh as the original, older Wallander. I like the new one, except the young actor lacks the depth and tortured character which are critical to the tone and drama of the show. He refers to his damaged past and difficult life while looking like he just came from lacrosse practice at Princeton. And I’m convinced that he’s secretly a member of the glee club.
That’s the latest. As they say in Catalan, Que vagi bé.