The Habits Of A Lunchtime

Television killed the art of conversation. Wrong. The art of conversation, the British art of conversation, never existed, especially not at meal times. Its absence is wrapped up in British habits of a lunchtime or a dinnertime.

The British on holiday at meal times are a morose bunch. They are long-faced and impatient. Service is criticised for its slowness, but this is an excuse to disguise the fact that meal times are suffered rather than enjoyed.

Nations are defined by their eating habits: the habits of what is eaten; when it is eaten; how it is eaten; where it is eaten; why it is eaten; and what is said (or isn’t said).

The British meal time was traditionally a purely functional occasion. It was a utilitarian intrusion, characterised by social awkwardness and by the consumption of food which, at best, was no more than unremarkable. It was the same on the rare occasions that the British ventured out to eat. The tables were silent, the food was hopefully rather better than rank.

Things changed with the gathering pace and numbers of cookery shows and celebrity chefs. From Fanny Craddock through the Galloping Gourmet to Floyd, Delia, the boys Rhodes and Oliver and to Ramsay, a nation has acquired an appreciation of cuisine. But this is pretty much all it has acquired. A nation of shepherd’s pie eaters still marks its meal times with dutiful muteness while the TV shows them food being prepared, discussed, rated, reality-ed and celebritised by celebrities other than chefs themselves; food they are unlikely to ever attempt themselves.

On holiday there isn’t the box with celebrity chefs to fill the silence. Or there may be at the Brit bar which will serve up pie and chips with peas; the telly of a Brit bar is a comfort blanket for the non-communicative.

Meal times as social occasions is a largely alien concept to the British; about as alien as the concept of meal time is to the Mallorcans and Spanish, or indeed the concept of time full stop. The notion of mediodía and therefore lunch can mean pretty much whatever you want it to mean. It almost never means midday, which comes as a shock to those who are the most rigid adherents to time – the Germans, for whom midday and lunch means midday. It doesn’t mean one minute past midday.

Such rigidity is what rules the eating habits. It is the complete opposite of a Mallorcan haphazardness by which meals seem to simply happen. A Mallorcan lack of rigidity is what governs everything else surrounding the meal. It is rarely anything other than a noisy and protracted affair. It is an event in its own right. There can be a theatrical element to it, such as with the presentation of a paella or fideua. The taking of tapas is totally contradictory to the set-piece style of the British main course and dessert and is a style of eating that demands and was in no small part brought about by a social dimension to meals.

The British have never really understood the ethos of meals as events. The inconsequentiality of eating extends to the fact that the British never invented a good wish before a meal. They had to borrow one from the French. “Enjoy your meal” is a ludicrous and recent Americanism, about as ludicrous as the literal translation of bon appétit to “good appetite” that one can encounter in a Mallorcan restaurant.

Climate as much as a non-rigid attitude to meal time has influenced differing eating habits. One might call this the alfresco factor. Eating outside, especially on long, warm evenings, requires a degree of affability and sociability. The alfresco factor is arguably the most significant in having created the differences in eating habits between northern and southern Europe, not so much in terms of what is eaten (though clearly there are differences) but in the nature of the meal.

The meal as social event is celebrated at fiestas. The alfresco evening supper is a feature of them. To the disgust of many in Alcúdia this year’s supper was dropped from the fiesta programme, a curious decision that could have been only marginally based on finance as it was the norm for people to pay. And they did pay. In great numbers. Three thousand or so would sit down in the market square.

The food at such suppers is never grand, but it doesn’t have to be because it is the event itself which matters. Not grand maybe, but a mix of trempó, tumbet and pa amb oli doesn’t taste at all bad on a sultry summer evening. This is what they had at a supper in the enclave of Ses Casetes des Capellans in Playa de Muro the other night. A thousand people having a meal together in even this tiny little place. And was there conversation? Above the noise of the talking, who could tell.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Coughing Blood: The bullfight

AnimaNaturalis is not popular. Animal rightists, it offends traditional animal abusers, other animal-rights groups and a fair chunk of what you might think would comprise its natural support, the youth. Its modus operandi of strident agitprop and public protest, be it against the correbou, the circus or the bullfight has failed to garner significant popular support.

Last year AnimaNaturalis staged a protest in advance of the bull-run correbou in the village of Fornalutx. It was most revealing that to the fore among those hurling insults in its direction were the young.

A curious and ill-formed philosophy, if one can use such a word, exists among Mallorcan youth, especially that in more rural areas. Catalanist, Luddite in a hankering for a return to the values of the land and in rejecting mass tourism, politically right-on in being eco-conscious, it is also largely politically incorrect in respect of animal welfare.

Whereas this youth philosophy coincides, to differing degrees, with the values of certain political parties and campaigning groups like the eco-warriors of GOB, it diverges on the matter of animals and animal tradition. It is cultural fundamentalism.

AnimaNaturalis is not popular because it poses difficult questions. In attacking traditions to do with animals, it also attacks an insularity of Mallorcan society by confronting it with issues that this society is ill-equipped to deal with; ill-equipped because a not untypical Mallorcan response to individual or collective attack is to adopt a haughty and petulant righteousness. Mallorcans are argumentative, but they are not great at argument or with dealing with confrontation.

The unpopularity of AnimaNaturalis extends to other animal rights groups who prefer, they say, greater diplomacy. A reason for these other groups distancing themselves from AnimaNaturalis in Fornalutx was that they believed their approach would have brought about greater concessions from the village mayor in amending the correbou. Instead, the mayor, though he did make some changes, was pushed into a corner in siding with those who lobbed the insults at AnimaNaturalis. Or so it was claimed.

There is another way of looking at this. AnimaNaturalis is not passive. As much as fierce defence, passivity is what symbolises attitudes towards animal rights and most obviously the bullfight. It was once explained to me that there would be greater public displays of protest against the bullfight were it not for the fact that people do not wish to be seen or cannot afford to be seen to be protesting. This is cultural fundamentalism of a different order; it is one with echoes of a style of Mallorcan feudalism, the passing of which was only relatively recent and which thus remains within society’s consciousness as well as within some of its current-day mores.

Though opinion polling has shown that the popularity of the bullfight has declined in Spain as a whole, the lobby for its continuance is strong, as is the social dynamic which appears to neuter protest. In an uppity and liberal part of Spain such as Catalonia, the dynamic operates in reverse, so much so that legislation was driven by popular petition to ban the bullfight. Yet a Catalanist sympathy among some of Mallorca’s youth does not extend to what has been nuanced as the real reason for Catalonia’s bullfight ban – anti-Spanishness.

In Mallorca the numbers that have gathered to protest at the annual bullfights in Alcúdia, Muro and Inca have been small to the point of irrelevance. In Inca AnimaNaturalis couldn’t have anticipated what might actually prove to be a turning-point in both its fortunes and the whole bullfight debate in Mallorca.

One of the bulls was on the rampage. No matador was to be seen. The bull was unscathed, it was being taunted from the safety of the wooden barrier and the terraces. Until, that is, the promoter of the event took it upon himself to act as matador, thus, so it is claimed, breaking a regulation that only those listed, i.e. the matadors, can participate.

There is a video on You Tube which has gone not exactly viral but which shows what happened. I have been to the bullfight and I have witnessed similar scenes, but I had a sharp intake of breath when I saw the bull cough blood and stumble having been struck with the sword by the promoter-matador. I am neither for nor against the bullfight, for the reason that it is not my argument, but this was sickening, and the power of the video might be to persuade those whose passivity has been the norm and those of a culturally fundamental bent to recognise that perhaps AnimaNaturalis has a point.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Murky Waters – Jaume Matas and Mallorcan society

The former president of the Balearics, Jaume Matas, is finally up before the beak to answer allegations related to public money that seemingly went AWOL, or into someone’s pockets, during the project to build the Palma Arena velodrome. The spend on the project, which was undertaken during Matas’s second period as president, was some 100 million euros, 70 million more than was originally budgeted for. Matas is in court with his wife, his brother-in-law and the former head of the GESA-Endesa energy company; all of them facing charges.

While the Unió Mallorquina cases have tended to dominate the corruption column inches, the Matas case is arguably the most serious, given that it involves a former president. Matas was also a one-time member of the national government, that of José María Aznar. The charges against Matas are complex, and I have no intention of even beginning to relate them, but some of them have been delicious in their reporting, as with the inventory of luxury items in his so-called “palacete” in Palma (13 November, 2009: Finding Treasure In The Dark).

The proceedings got under way on Tuesday, only for there to be an immediate adjournment as the prosecution had introduced new evidence from phone taps, something which UK readers might find interesting; Matas’s lawyer is arguing against their being submissible. But before appearing in court, Matas had to run the gauntlet of the media and demonstrators. One of the odder aspects of the court appearance is that it, together with others involving prominent politicians, has made a celebrity of a security guard who accompanies the accused. This is José Nieto, aka “Primo”, a bull of a bloke who is a kick-boxing champion. Not only has he been interviewed by the press, he was also depicted – in cartoon format – on a demonstrator’s placard with the words “give it to him, Primo”. He has become the star of the show.

While much of the reporting will concentrate on the technicalities of the case and on the individuals, there is an altogether more fundamental issue that needs to be addressed – why does it happen? Corruption, that is, or the circumstances that give rise to alleged corruption. The facile answer is that all politicians are corrupt, or something like that. An “expert” reckoned the other day that corruption was some sort of psychiatric condition. Maybe it is. But why have the Balearics, and Mallorca most obviously, come to assume the position of title-holder in the Spanish corruption league? Other parts of the country are similarly blighted, Valencia for example, but it is important to go behind the cases and understand the dynamics that foment the island’s corruption.

When Matas first came into the regional government as economics minister in 1993, he was asked about corruption. His response was to quote the Spanish philosopher José Luis Aranguren. “It is not politicians who are corrupt, but it is society that is sick.” The words are highly relevant. Without knowing the quote (that appeared in “The Diario” on 21 March), I said as much myself some weeks ago – “All power may well indeed corrupt, and inappropriate behaviour by politicians may indeed be taken as a signal to others in local society to misbehave, but I would argue that it is this society that begets the politics of the island, not the other way round” (2 March: The Scream). I have also said that the obvious insularity of Mallorca and its networks and families can be highly influential in creating those circumstances in which corruption can occur.

The logic of this, and of Matas’s quote, is troubling, as it can be interpreted as making politicians charged with corruption appear to be victims of society. This would be insulting to politicians who act honourably, but the logic does need to be taken account of as what it implies is that Mallorcan politics and democracy cannot be practised in a correct way. Ever. Without a change in the culture of society, products of which are the local politicians.

In the reporting that does go behind the case, the emphasis has tended to focus on the individuals. Character assassination has become flavour of the month. It is easy to do this, and while the corrupt cannot expect a sympathetic hearing, the concentration on people’s flaws cannot be complete or entirely comprehensible without an analysis of the society that brings them about. To do so is to enter murky waters, but it is something that needs to be done.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

As The Miller Told His Tale: Restoration of mills in Mallorca

The transformation of Mallorca during Franco’s time, and since, has been one of contradictions. The greatest change occurred in the ’60s with the onset of mass tourism. It was one that set in motion a shift, a fundamental shift, away from what was almost exclusively an agrarian economy, one that had served Franco well; the farmers’ co-operatives, such as those in Muro and Sa Pobla, formed part of the syndicates of self-sufficiency that was the economic model Franco preferred but which, by the mid to late-50s, was being shown to be unsustainable and unrealistic.

Tourism, and therefore increased urbanisation, meant a move away from the land. With this came the basis for the wealth that has made Mallorca what it is. At the same time as the foundations of tourism were being laid, the island was also subject to certain proscriptions, e.g. the practice of the Catalan language and culture and some fiestas.

Despite Franco’s desire for self-sufficiency, it was he – and his regime – who altered Mallorca for good and pushed it towards a more outward-looking perspective. This was the greatest contradiction of them all. But the process of modernisation that continued after his death, the movement towards greater cosmopolitanism and internationalism, has brought with it a further contradiction in terms of retrenchment and a re-invigoration of what, prior to Franco, was the Mallorcan orthodoxy – of Catalan, fiestas and also agrarianism.

The latter of these might be the hardest to comprehend. The socio-political nature of the language and cultural as well as the fiestas are clear expressions of a rediscovery of what had been undermined for many years. A return to the traditions of the land are less easy to understand. Yet this does represent the latest of contradictions within Mallorcan society; a desire to have the wealth of tourism while also clinging to a nostalgic past. It is understandable in a way. Any society that undergoes an upheaval as great as Mallorca has over the past 40 years will find solace in some continuity with the past, especially a past that had been partially banned or, in the case of agrarianism, partially abandoned in the pursuit of economic growth and a wholly different economic model.

This isn’t so much a return to farming – which has never gone away of course – but to traditional machinery and operations of a rural past. The restoration of a variety of mills – for flour, water, olives etc. – is advancing at a phenomenal pace. There are over 600 flour mills, over 400 olive mills and over 2,000 windmills for extracting water. Of these, the greatest number of olive mills are to be found in Pollensa.

Many of these mills had fallen into a bad state of disrepair, but rather than demolish them there has been an ongoing programme, under the auspices of the rural department of the environment ministry at the Council of Mallorca, to bring them back to life. The style of some of these mills reflect an island landscape of stonework akin to the dry-stone walls in the countryside, while they are indicative of a pre-industrial Mallorca, i.e. one before tourism. Certain mills even operate by means of horse power.

These mills do not necessarily offer anything highly productive. What they do offer are sympathetic adornments to the landscape and an educative element – how life once was and how rural machinery used to operate. They also offer an attraction; one to the tourist. Some Mallorcans might actually hanker after a return to the old ways. But in bringing back to life those old ways, they – the Mallorcans – are also in the process of looking to add greater sustainability to the industry that all but destroyed those ways – to mass tourism. Another contradiction.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

The Scream: The anniversary of corruption in Mallorca

It was another holiday yesterday. For once, not a religious occasion, but a political one. Balearics Day, the twenty-seventh anniversary of the introduction of autonomous, regional government in the islands. How apt that a political celebration should be marked by the worst cases of political corruption that Mallorca has ever known – which is saying something. During the twenty-seven years, scandal has reared its head from time to time, but it has spent the past few weeks screaming and bellowing. Rather than dressing up in party frocks, the celebrations for Balearics Day should have witnessed Munchian mourning-black dresses, the scream of the latest political nightmare and anxiety, and hair shirts donned by discredited individuals from the political class. Henry II once did a good line in public humiliation following the murder of Thomas à Becket. No-one may have been betrayed or assassinated, but the entire system of democracy that regional autonomy was meant to have bestowed on Mallorca has been betrayed. And not for the first time. The question is whether it will be the last. You wouldn’t count on it.

President Antich, in a speech to coincide with Balearics Day, has not engaged in public self-flagellation but he has offered his apologies to the people of the islands. He is resisting calls for an early election, preferring to appeal to other parties to come together. Minority rule and motions of no confidence may make this resistance futile, but the mechanics of government – and the constant harping on about the allegedly dysfunctional nature of coalition – are secondary gloss over the more fundamental issue of corruption, both within politics and within Mallorcan society. More than fretting over the electoral system, the corruption scandals should be informing a debate as to what brings them about. Balearics Day should be the focal point for what the past twenty-seven years have represented, as they have culminated in the current chaos.

Autonomous government brought with it responsibility, that of acting in accordance with democratic principles. But the revelations of the past months have suggested that this lesson has not been learned or, over the course of the past generation, has come to be forgotten. Autonomous government also brought with it the Unió Mallorquina, the party at the centre of most of the rumpuses. It was formed around the same time and in readiness for the first local elections in 1983. That it, a party designed to serve “nationalist” interests on the island, should have been exposed as one serving only its own interests is a deeply alarming condemnation of not just the wider political system but also the social system of networks and nepotism. There is a horrible sense in which “nationalist” is aligned with the self-preservation of the insular webs of family and favours. Which is not to single out the UM, far from it, but it is now symbolic of a sick system created by regionalisation that has politicised a societal preference for rule-bending. All power may well indeed corrupt, and inappropriate behaviour by politicians may indeed be taken as a signal to others in local society to misbehave, but I would argue that it is this society that begets the politics of the island, not the other way round. It has spawned Maria Munar, a figure of the UM from its inception, a Cruella de Vil who has kidnapped a doe-eyed and naïve democracy and bundled it into the back of an official limo, secreted inside a massive wedge of cash. Antich has been criticised for booting the UM out of the coalition. Booting out? He should have launched them into the far reaches of the universe. He was absolutely right to disassociate himself and the PSOE from them.

Balearics Day is the celebration of one of the most important elements of the post-Franco era, that of autonomous government. A generation on from the worthy intentions of autonomy and what does one have? A political party that can allegedly turn a ministry into its own bank. The celebration should inspire not a debate as to the technicalities of local government but soul-searching as to the intertwined mores of sectors of Mallorcan society and the political class. A generation on and one wonders what has been learned. Autonomous government was a clear statement of the rejection of Francoism. But let’s not forget that Franco despised and mistrusted political parties. He did away with them, and The Scream lasted for decades.

Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Thus Spake Zarathustra – The downfall of Mother Munar

Maria Antònia Munar, matriarch of the Unió Mallorquina party and of Mallorcan politics, has finally quit her post as speaker of the Balearics parliament. Her role in the so-called “caso maquillaje” (make-up) and the corruption allegations levelled at her have – belatedly – claimed her. She is accused, along with former tourism minister Miquel Nadal, of using an audiovisual company, Video U, to divert a quarter of a million euros of public funds for the purpose of financing the UM’s electoral campaigns. Her position had become untenable. The new code of politician ethics that had been introduced was meant to have led to resignations while investigations were ongoing. Munar had chosen to ignore this, until Friday.

While the case has still to be fully brought to court, the knives have already been sharpened. One does have to wonder as to what impact the press might have on any trial. So far there have only been declarations in front of the judge, though Munar has chosen her right to keep silent. Meanwhile, the outstanding “Diario” journalist, Matías Vallés, has – not for the first time – ripped a reputation to shreds. In yesterday’s paper, he headlined a piece about Munar thus: “The most hated woman in Mallorca’s history”. Headlined it thus, and then thus spake Zarathustra. Vallés quotes Munar from a previous time, when she governed in Mallorca alongside the discredited and under-investigation ex-president Jaume Matas of the Partido Popular. At that time she told her party that there was going to be “no-one accused of corruption”. With this, Vallés brands her Zarathustra. Nietzsche took the mythical character and made him “the first immoralist”. Perhaps Munar considered herself an “Übermensch”.

Vallés refers to Munar’s lack of principles and to her relationship with Nadal. “Her beloved dolphin” is how he describes the ex-minister and Munar’s anointed successor as party leader. He had previously called Nadal “ineffable”. In a twist to the saga, Nadal and three directors of Video U have protested their innocence and sought to finger Munar, a delicious story of Munar handing Nadal 300 grand in readies while in the official car of the president of the Council of Mallorca (which Munar once was) all adding to the sleaze.

The characterisation of Munar as a hated woman raises an issue in respect of women in Mallorcan politics, one that has resonance in wider Mallorcan society. Vallés also refers to Munar as Lady Diada, and one has to go back a bit to understand quite what he means; there is form when it comes to Vallés and Munar. The Diada name can just as easily be Lady MacBeth – feminine compassion supplanted by ambition and ruthlessness. Generalisations are always to be treated with care, but Munar’s style and demeanour are not unusual among Mallorcan women of a certain standing. It is in the Mallorcan character to exhibit a sense of superiority in any event, and for some women this can become aloofness that borders on the contemptuous. And to this can be added power lust and self-promotion. Vallés repeated yesterday some of what he said about Munar in December 2007. He mentions a magazine, paid for by the Council of Mallorca, which featured 87 photos of Munar on 83 pages. In another magazine, “Brisas”, published by the Diario’s competitor, the Serra group (“Ultima Hora” and “The Bulletin”), its VIP section was once full of photos of Munar in her finery. One couldn’t turn a page without her staring out at you. But she is not unique.

The German neighbours the other day raised what at first seemed a strange point, followed by a question. On Sundays, they had noticed women who wear furs, wandering around with noses firmly raised in the air. What was their standing, they asked. Initially I didn’t understand, until I remembered that in Germany status tends to be defined, not by class as it might be in Britain, but by profession, whether the husband’s or the woman’s. Talk to Germans, and their small talk is often littered with the adjective “beruflich” (professional). It matters to them. There wasn’t necessarily any such equivalent in Mallorca, I ventured. Just wealth. Or power. But they had identified a trait, one seemingly compatible with Munar. Aloof and contemptuous, not just of others – the Übermensch mentality perhaps, the triumphing by making enemies (as she has admitted) – but also of the rules. Munar has been brought down by alleged rule-bending and breaking and by a hubris that is symptomatic of a social stratum in Mallorca. Vallés has not necessarily made this point, but he has nevertheless given it potential currency. If you read the native, then I recommend you take a look at his article:

http://www.diariodemallorca.es/mallorca/2010/02/27/matias-valles-mujer-odiada-historia-mallorca/549053.html
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.

Blind Faith

The Germans go big on Mallorca. Watch German TV and most evenings there will be something about the island, even if it’s just the weather forecast. And most evenings there will be an announcer referring to the “paradise island”. This comes from the same lexicon of blind faith that gives us all those “beautifuls” and “lovelys” to which I referred the other day. There’s nothing wrong with blind faith, except blindness. It’s another day for you and me in paradise. Paradise lost, paradise to be regained – some time. Sir, can you help me? Or help others. Those in unparadise. 

 

The economic crisis was always likely to cause some tensions. It’s just a question of how tense. The CCOO union puts an estimate on the number of workers unlikely to qualify for benefits this winter – 80,000, more than half of them from the hotel sector. That’s getting on for ten per cent of the population of the archipelago, to which can be added a similar percentage on the dole. The union is concerned that there will be a winter of discontent, or one of social conflicts, to use its words. 

 

The crisis has also made even more apparent the deep flaw in Mallorca’s economy, that of seasonality. Generally it works, just about, but when the season is shorter and workers do not have employment long enough to qualify for winter payments, the flaw, the fault line grows ever wider. As does the gap between the haves and have-nots. The gap becomes a gorge, a vast canyon. And there is no bottom to the canyon, no cement to fill this great gap of unemployment and societal disconnection, especially as the construction industry is right down in the hole as well.  

 

One can overstate the situation, and the union might well be guilty of exaggeration, but it may well also be right. You can also take into account the fact that citizens of the Balearics have slipped from a prosperity in the ’90s to one of being poorer than the Spanish average in terms of disposable income. This may be across the board, but that board is broad. One man’s lower spending power on luxury items is another one’s breadline. 

 

The truth is that many workers receive not a great deal more than subsistence wages even during the summer. At least the paradise delusion of hot days and nights can divert attention from impoverishment. And the safety net of the state has, until now, been there for the colder days and nights of winter. It won’t be for many this winter.

 

The deep flaw in the economy is mirrored by the deep flaw in island society: the extremes in terms of wealth or not. Few societies are immune from such a gulf, but the compactness of Mallorcan geography makes it more apparent, more inescapable, unless you retain that blindness of blind faith. 

 

The lateness – the 1960s – with which an industrial revolution arrived in Mallorca, at a time of a regime only starting to come to terms with true economics, provided little or no preparation for greater diversity. And that revolution was predicated on an industry far removed from the grit of manufacturing. The Mallorcan economy is something of an unreal economy. Rightly so perhaps. Paradise is a state of unreality. Unparadise, however, is the reality confronting many. And some of the wealth that was and has been accrued has an unreality as well. It was as if it was magicked, the consequence of being there, of luck, and of the benevolence of tour operators and visitors from the first days of mass tourism. 

 

One can overstate the situation, and I hope I am, and that the union is as well. But the ingredients for discontent exist, and I keep in mind the actions of those Sardinians, around the time that the crisis broke, who bombarded luxury yachts with wet sand in disgust at displays of ostentatious wealth. There might be more than wet sand this winter in Mallorca. Paradise, anyone?

Seven Drunken Nights

There has been a thread over on Holiday Truths concerned with the legal age of drinking alcohol and specifically the suggestion that Mallorca does not have a problem of a British nature with alcohol among the young, over or under-age. It’s all a cultural difference, goes the argument.

 

It’s true that there is a cultural difference, it is also true that the Mallorcan young are not in the same league as their British counterparts when it comes to causing trouble or getting drunk, but it is a complete fallacy to suggest that a problem does not exist. In Palma the authorities are now starting a campaign of communicating with parents over the specific issue of the botellón – the street drinking party – that is the most obvious manifestation of youth drinking, and a growing social problem not only in Palma but in many towns across the island. These parties, usually on a Friday or Saturday night, involve cheap booze being brought to or sold at locations in different towns from where the youth will often go on to nightspots, having got tanked up on drink that would otherwise cost vastly more in clubs. In the case of some, those under 18, they wouldn’t, or shouldn’t be allowed into these venues anyway.

 

While the main consequences of the botellón are noise and mess, they have also contributed to occasionally serious incidents. The death of Gabriel Marquet in Alcúdia was partially attributed to the botellón by the Magic roundabout, while the authorities in Manacor moved swiftly to outlaw street drinking following an attack on a local citizen – again attributable to a botellón. The delegate for the Balearics to the central government, Ramón Socias, was moved to say that those who could not control themselves when with drink should not drink. It was a pretty pointless statement, but the fact that he was referring to self-control and drink at all gives the lie to the mythical notion of Mallorcan youth all being well-behaved and having been brought up to treat alcohol with respect. 

 

Someone on that thread made the point that at fiestas, and especially the dance parties during fiestas, there is no trouble. It’s a fair point, but it is not to say that there are never incidents. There is the further issue of drugs, one that affects the whole of the island. A parent in Puerto Pollensa once expressed to me her worries for her son as he entered his teens where the availability of drugs was concerned. The taking of drugs is as much of a problem in the small towns of Mallorca as it is in Palma. 

 

One needs to be careful and not overstate the problem, but there is a lingering perception among those who merely come to Mallorca for holidays that the island -its people and its youth – exists in some idyllic other world where social problems of other countries do not manifest themselves; that the youth sit around a café table and discuss music or art over a coffee and then go quietly home. It simply isn’t true. One doesn’t like to have to shatter people’s illusions, but many, including some expats residing on the island, have a misguided impression as to life in Mallorca. It is not the social paradise they would like to believe that it is.

 

 

The last supper?

On a lighter note, the Sant Jaume fiesta in Alcúdia, that came to its firework-blazing conclusion last night, recorded record numbers attending the open-air supper that is an annual feature during the fiesta week. For two and a half euros, more than 3,000 people were able to tuck into different pa amb olis, a dessert, some wine and water. Not a bad price. Perhaps it was so popular because it was so cheap. A sign of the times maybe. The supper was also, however, a potential demonstration of popular rejection of authority. An aspect of the supper is that there is a grand bingo. The interior ministry, as mentioned here previously, has sought to ban these open-air bingos on the grounds that they are illegal. It’s daft. Could this have been the last supper and bingo? But the size of the prizes on offer is maybe also indicative of the current times. Like the cheapness of the meal, so the incentive of a not insignificant cash payout is possibly a way of registering a record turn-out.

Stranger In Town

Alcúdia has more residents of foreign origin than of those born in the Balearics. Of a total population of 20,395, 7,847 come from outside Spain, 80 more than those from the islands (the missing four and a half thousand or so come from the mainland). 

 

What do we make of these figures? Anything? There will probably be those who want to make quite a bit of them, minded if they are to bewail an undermining of traditional Mallorca or Alcúdia. A related issue is that it is not unreasonable to assume that Catalan is not the majority language. Most but not all those native to the Balearics will use it as a first language. Most of those from elsewhere will speak Castilian (if they speak anything other than their original language), unless they are from Catalonia. The largest single foreign grouping is the Argentinians – more than a thousand; the British represent nearly a thousand, itself an advance of over 100 since the last figures were issued. Just on this, I recently sent an email to the organisers of the “Trobada de Músics per la Llengua”, the Catalan music event in Pollensa. I apologised for using Castilian and received a perfectly helpful response – in Catalan. There is an increasing number of the locally born who pointedly refuse to use anything other than Catalan. That’s their legitimate choice, but to not use Catalan does – sometimes – make one feel as though offence is being caused. 

 

This locally born often comprises younger Mallorcans, those who are involved in the organisation of events that are thoroughly commendable, such as the “Trobada”. There is a confidence and a degree of defiance in their insistence on Catalan. It makes one a little uneasy. There is an element of the locally born young that favours a back to the future policy in terms of language, tourism restriction and also a constraint as to the number of incomers. It’s all perfectly understandable and idealistic, if not totally pragmatic.

 

A more assertive Catalanism may well represent a reaction to the shifting demographics of a town like Alcúdia. It’s the sort of assertiveness that has spawned the likes of the “Trobada” and the “Acampallengua”, alongside the at-times dogmatic refusal by local authorities to use anything other than Catalan (they are meant to use both languages for official documents). There is an impression that there is a lack of concession made to the increased cosmopolitanism, while other manifestations of Catalan promotion, such as its use in the public sector, reflects a determination to hold on to the cultural emblem that is the language.

 

Yet there is no denying the cosmopolitan nature of even relatively small towns such as Alcúdia. There is also no turning the clock back; no back to the future. But there is a growing sense of polarism, not just in terms of language but also in political and societal attitudes, the latter being reflected in a possible radicalisation of the locally born young. If indeed it is the case that Catalan speakers are in a minority, one fancies that there will be those who are minded as to its implications. 

Mother, Mother

On the forum for thealcudiaguide, there was a question about supermarkets and which fiesta days affect their opening hours. I suggested that there were only two,  during the main season, that meant they closed for the whole day in Alcúdia – Pedro and Jaime. There are, of course, the other holiday days that you do tend to forget. Like yesterday. Mother of God, it’s another fiesta. And that was it. Mare de Déu de la Victoria that is celebrated next to the hermitage in the mountains above the town of Alcúdia. I knew it was the fiesta, but I had never cottoned on to the fact that it affects openings. Oh yes it does – banks closed, chemists closed, some shops and offices closed, supermarkets (the main ones) closing at two in the afternoon. How inconvenient is all this? I only realised all this as I happened to be at the paseo tourist office (which was staying open all day – the others were closed). San Pedro was on Monday; three days later there is another, and hardly anyone knows about it, unless they are truly immersed in the local traditions. I admit, therefore, that I am not, as – Mother of God – I wasn’t aware. I am now. 

 

The fiestas are an essential ingredient of the local way of life, they provide colour, spectacle and interest. No-one, least of all myself, is suggesting that they are abandoned. But how sensible is it that they disrupt the normal flow of commerce to the extent that they do? Profound changes have taken place and have impacted upon society and business, and yet, while these changes have occurred, the society itself has refused to change; it is caught in a time-warp. You can argue that the continuation of tradition and of the lack of change to society is an admirable thing in face of voracious commercialism, and you would be right, but there is a dissonance between this maintenance of tradition, this lack of change and the complaints about economic circumstances and all the rest. Now, the fiestas do not fundamentally affect the tourism economy, and so you can also argue that their regularity is at best neutral in terms of productivity, but they are indicative of a psychology that wants everything as it was while keeping all the commercial gains as well. But the poor tourist is inconvenienced. If he has schlepped up from Bellevue to do some economical supermarketing only to find the nearest Eroski shut, he has every right to feel hot, sweaty and more than a bit hacked off. The point is that, in a tourist resort, the tourist should take precedence. It may not be a view that everyone is comfortable with, but it is the tourist who pays for Alcúdia, not a bit of ball de bot by the hermitage.

 

In the wider context, it would seem that, finally, something is to give where shopping hours in Palma are concerned; it’s been a point of debate and criticism for some while that the opening hours are so limited. It’s a start I suppose. On top of societal conservatism, one can add the role of unions and Church in opposing change. Some years ago, the Germans, under Gerhard Schröder, attempted a liberalisation; it was burnt down in the flames of Hades by the strength of the religious and union lobbies and quickly dropped. It was a mistake. Of course, you can also argue that the Anglo-Saxon view of market liberalism and the combination of Thatcherite union bashing and religious indifference led to the 24-hour shopping and commerce culture of the UK, and that to view the local situation it is necessary to adopt a different cultural perspective. You would be right in this regard as well. But there should be greater compromise and willingness to change. Last year, as the storms of crisis gathered and there were moans coming from businesses, it was revealing that moaners were happy enough to clear off to Menorca for two to three days to celebrate Sant Joan. Go figure.