SPAIN, THE SAD PART

THE MONUMENT TO CERVANTES, DON QUIXOTE
AND SANCHO, AT THE PLAZA DE ESPAÑA
IN THE HEART OF MADRID

Before I went to Europe, my friend Mauricio Cadena, an artist living in Quito, who, while studying art in Spain had married a Spanish Girl, asked me to visit his in laws when I get to Madrid. So I did. They were retirees well into their seventies who had seen neither their daughter, nor their son in law or their two children (12 and 10), who had been born in Ecuador since she left Spain many years back. It was a very interesting encounter because they were two old and conservative persons who had grown, lived and gotten used to the restrictions of the Franco Regime (which took over power in Spain in the late thirties, after a bloody civil war in which almost a million Spaniards lost their lives). On the other side, I was a young, outspoken, not conservative man in his late twenties, who had grown under a definitely imperfect, but humanistic political system, which did not restrict any of the individual’s freedoms, least of all the freedom of speech, and thus, I was used to speak out as I wished, anywhere, about anything, with anyone.

The restaurant they had chosen was a modest one, located on the second floor of an old building at “La Gran Via”, the main street of the old Madrid, only about two blocks from beautiful fountain La Cibeles, (Cibeles is the Greek goddess of the soil, the agriculture and fertility), and about six blocks from the Plaza de España on the other end of the street. La Cibeles is a landmark of Madrid and it is a large and at night very colorful fountain at the center of which is a carriage on which the goddess Cibeles rides, pulled by two big lions. We sat on a corner of the room, looking to the street, through the transparent curtains and could see the changing colors in the fountain.


LA CIBELES FOUNTAIN, A LANDMARK OF MADRID

The lights in the restaurant were deem and did not allow a clear view of the other people in the place. The tables’ set up was nice and clean, with a green table cloth on top of a white one serving as the base cloth, leaving the white corners uncovered. A small vase with fresh and colorful flowers was sitting at the center of the table, and two types of wine glasses were placed in each of the three places were we would soon be eating. Very pleasing, slow Spanish guitar music was heard throughout the dining room. As the waiter approached us to take the order I told my companions that I will take care of the bill, but the old couple insisted that they would do so, as I was considered their “guest of honor”, something that I reluctantly accepted as it was obvious to me that these people were living on a tight budget. They ordered the ever present tapas including Jamon Serrano and “Callos a la Madrilène”, delicious dishes of the Spanish Cuisine, and, of course, Paella a la Valenciana, that delicious Spanish dish that by then I had eaten at least ten times while in Madrid. I did not order wine, even though my hosts insisted that I should, because I didn’t want the bill to reach a high amount.

While dining, almost obsessive as I had always been with History and Politics; I began a conversation about the Spanish political system and made my point about what I thought of Franco and his abusive government. Suddenly, my dinner companions began showing anxiety and fear which I could see in their faces. Very nervous as they were, they asked me to lower my voice, with a very clear indication that we might be listened by the government’s bugging systems, and therefore we might be arrested for speaking against Franco and his regime. That was the first time I could see in real people that strange sensation of fear of speaking, I could see it in their faces, in their voices and attitudes. That sensation of fear of speaking was totally alien to me until then, and I could only see it and feel it again many, many years later when I visited Cuba with my daughter Angie, and I talked to real people about their real tragic lives within that immense prison the Castro brothers have made of that beautiful island. On that occasion I could talk to young as well as adult people whose only hope is to be able to escape the island, as they have already lost hope of any improvement in their political system.

My dinner with this old couple in this half free Spain ended with a big hug they gave me, which I was supposed to deliver to their daughter, their son in law and their grand children, which I did, but, the impression of fear in their faces still remains in my eye balls, just the same as it remains the pain, the suffering and the lack of hope of those poor Cuban individuals I met in Havana in 2003. But, as the old Spanish saying goes; "there is no evil that can last one hundred years, nor a body that can take it", Spain is now a free and prosperous country and every Spaniard can speak out their feelings or their ideas. I certainly hope, I truly hope that some day, sooner, rather than later, the great Cuba of Marti, Antonio Maceo and Maximo Gomez, and its twelve million people, will be able to enjoy full freedom just as all human beings should.


LA GRAN VIA IN MADRID, A SYMBOL OF SPAIN

I continued my visit to Madrid and its surroundings for another two days, I went shopping for souvenirs at a special site not very far from a place were I ate the most delicious Spanish “turrones” one can think of, not very far from which I bought a beautiful doll for Fanny, whom, much to my own amazement, I though of many times while in Europe. She still keeps the doll in our bedroom as a reminder of the old days in which she wouldn’t know where we were heading with our relationship. Sometimes I tease her saying that this was the doll she got from St. Anthony, the saint who made the miracle to her, that is, then, the doll that got me hooked!

After more than 30 days in Europe, I took a plane returning to Ecuador. I felt very happy with everything I did; I felt very happy to have begun to materialize some of my childhood dreams of going around the world. Though I didn’t ride the flying trains of my childhood dreams, I enjoyed visiting the history, the geography, the architecture the art, the music, the culture in general, and the people of Europe, the continent I had seen only in maps and had known about from the books I studied while being a young student. Europe was, certainly, a great point to start my ever present desire to see the world. With the exception of my conversation with the old Spanish couple by the Cibeles, I was never disappointed at anything I saw, heard or felt while in Europe, I just loved the old and beautiful Europe!

Thirteen years later I returned to Europe as a married man, with my wife, Fanny and two of my three children, Mariuxi (11) and Rafael Jr. (9). Angie, the youngest (5) stayed in Guayaquil with my sister Lilita; because we thought she was too young to endure the three week trip. We visited almost the same places I visited the first time. Such was my love for Europe that I wanted to enjoy it again, this time with my dear family. Neither one of us got disappointed either, we all loved Europe. The sad part of this trip, however, came right upon our return to Guayaquil. As we arrived in the Guayaquil airport, our youngest one, Angie, ran into my arms and almost crying said, “dad, please, don’t you ever leave again without me”. It felt like a bullet coming through my body!. I still feel the same when I talk about it.

In my next posting: BACK TO WORK AND ORDINARY LIFE