Life · I still don't have a title

Season of change

Sun, 15 Jul 2012 22:45:00 +0000

It feels like I’m sitting in a roller-coaster wagon. There’s probably too much change going on for me to assimilate naturally. In particular:

I just wrapped up (well, mostly) one of the toughest Uni semestres. I had to deal with lots of very time consuming assignments, and then the usual round of final exams. Even if this semester I got the best marks in my journey (or shall we say Via Crucis) through University, I still managed to fail one exam, for the Advanced Networks subject, which is quite annoying, given I got high marks (even the highest in one case) in other subjects I really don’t master at all. In any case, this is the end of the pain. The only thing that’s left is just one exam and a project based on GNU/Linux technologies which will basically mean formatting for prettyness the sysadmin docs we’ve been collecting at the office during the last few years. This effort will be nothing to what I’ve been doing during the past 18 months, so I’m really relieved to have it past me already.

Getting rid of studies comes just two weeks before a big change in my professional career. Friday was my last day at the Institut Tecnològic d’Informàtica, after five and a half fantastic years working with awesome people in a very friendly atmosphere. I’ve learned a great deal, and taking this decision wasn’t easy at all. I leave lots of good friends behind, people I really love, and tomorrow will be difficult to not have them around me. I wish my ITI ex-workmates the best of luck in these difficult times for everyone in Spain and specially in the Valencian Country with the massive cuts going on. I feel the timing for this jump couldn’t be better.

Tomorrow, when I get ready to go for work, I won’t be leaving home at all, instead I will just sit where I am right now, at home, and log into some corporate IRC server. Tomorrow I’ll be joining Collabora, and I’m a mix of excited, curious and happy about this incredible opportunity. Thanks to Sjoerd for nags, I might not be writing this if it wasn’t for you!

When I was first approached about this, I thought Collabora was a small company. But as I looked more into it, I discovered that’s not longer the case, there’s many more people than I imagined working there (here!), and was delighted to see I knew many of them, and many other are well known members of the major Free Sofware communities. I’ll be joining the sysadmin team to work closely with Jo Shields. See you tomorrow, folks. :)

This opportunity to work from home is godsend, given the third bit of change that’ll be happening soon: sometime in late September, Maria and I should join the ranks of first-time parents, following the baby boom wave surrounding us. While you can imagine we’re really happy about this, we’re also freaking out because this is going to happen in just two months and a half, and weeks go by really fast lately. So yeah, being able to be at home with this really small baby will be a big bonus for the incredible experience we’re about to enjoy. We’ve been both busy with other stuff, but during the summer we should be focusing on preparing the baby’s arrival. There’s a whole lot to do!

Expect my Debian and other Free Software activities to get a hit, of course. :) If I am normally sleep-deprived, this is going to be the next level.

Quinze de maig

Tue, 31 May 2011 23:11:00 +0000

Two weeks ago, I was lucky to celebrate my 33th birthday with my closest friends in l’Alqueria. When asked to wish something before blowing the candles on Victor’s delicious apple cake, I thought I have basically everything I’d want, but it’d be cool if some real changes happened in this world.

Not long after, big demonstrations asking for “Real Democracy Now” happened throughout the Spanish state, and today, that Sunday seems to be an eternity away. Huge assemblies, thousands of strangers working together, more demonstrations, an election campaign eclipsed by #15m, hundreds of well thought, plausible claims published, the movement crossing the Spanish borders and leaking into France and Greece, the feeling that this is the good one, the basis for a fresh start that can make our lives better, our society a fair one and the possibility to stand in front of the fuckers who have made our lives a lot harder, to tell them it’s not going to work like that anymore. All of this in 15 days.

Unfortunately, revolution came when I’m in a crucial month to finish my studies and swamped with other little things, so I’ve been unable to be in the Valencian camp site for more than 3 days. Hopefully when I’m done on the 22nd people will still be taking the square, because Mako and Mika will be visiting then. Yay!

A tale of Tristània and its Quadrennial Royal Ball

Thu, 31 Mar 2011 23:40:00 +0000

In one of the corners of what is now know as Europa, there was a rich, prosperous and beautiful kingdom known as Tristània. In the past, not that long ago, it had been a number of smaller kingdoms and caliphates, all with their own cultures, religions and ways of life. Wars, and series of marriages of convenience eventually configured what ended up being the united kingdom of Tristània. Throughout the years, some of the unified cultures grew and flourished, while others struggled to survive in their ever-shrinking areas of influence.

A required introduction

Sometimes, the minor cultures would suffer due to oppression coming from the delegates of the King, who would ban any expression of these cultures, as they were seen as a potential threat to the kingdom’s stability and unity. For example, just a few decades before the main subject of this tale, the predecessor of the incumbent King took power by force, after crushing everyone who opposed his uprise during a bloody and hard civil war. His reign was ruthless and he imposed draconian laws uppon his people: usage and teaching of the minor languages was banned, and everyone was forced to use the language of the Centràlia region, in public or private.

After four decades, the majority of the Tristanian people were sick enough of the situation to consider standing against their fear of the regime and demand freedom, but repression prevailed until the old general died. His place was taken by the King’s grandson even if the people had expressed, just before the Great War, that they had had enough kings and demanded a ruler they could choose directly. Of course, the new King seemed a lot nicer than who they had been suffering for ages, so when asked if they accepted the new situation, an overwhelming majority said “yes”.

However, there was a region, Verdàlia, where the majority said “no”. Things were actually more complicated. Verdalians formed a traditional, proud society, and while the years of oppression had undoubtedly weakened it, they had managed to preserve their very unique culture, language and traditions healthy. The Verdal language was really weird to the ears of Centràlians and even other minor cultures of the Kingdom, and erudites struggled to find its real origins, not being able to reach plausible conclusions.

Verdanians, as we already know, were a traditional society, living in a land of deep and poorly connected valleys. Little they knew or cared about the complicated matters of Centràlia and other regions. What made them happy was to take care their sheep and cows, keep a good fire in their living room and, every now and then, enjoy one of their log cutting contests. The impositions of the former dictator were too much for them, and some of them started sabotaging, assaulting and killing some of the dictator’s soldiers, agents and officers. This was a huge risk at the time; getting caught meant death penalty for sure, and at first, even people from other regions were in favour of these actions. However, this popular support greatly diminished when the new King took the throne, as these minority continued with the killings, while most of the people saw it was no longer justified.

The Royal Ball

One of the very first measures the young King introduced was to organise the “Royal Ball of Tristània”, a major event through which the people of the different regions would be able to elect their delegates to the Crown. Every four years, a Great Ball contest would happen in Centràlia, and the winners would be able to decide by their own on some of the matters that affected their region. Verdanians would send a few teams of dancers, each of which came from different towns or areas. Some Verdanian teams were happy about the King and the new political situation, but other teams weren’t so much. And some others, while being simple non-violent dancers, were known to be supporters of the violent minority who kept on harassing, assaulting and even killing in their struggle for “freedom of Verdània”.

The Verdanian groups aligned with the “different” culture of Verdània (including those who were said to support the violent) tended to get a lot more points in the dancing contest, and a majority of the elected delegates were appointed by them, making it easier to pass laws and edicts that favoured protection of their ways, traditions and language.

No matter how hard they tried, the dancing groups closer to Centràlia kept losing to the majority. After many years of dance contests, these groups used their closeness to the King’s court to pass the Ball Law of Tristanian, that would ban any dancing group which didn’t condemn the assaults and killings that kept happening in Verdània. The unsurprising result was that, with less dancing groups participating in the following Royal Ball, the Verdanian majority was broken and new delegates, friendly of the Centralian officers, were elected.

Many people who had been in favour of assaults and killings began to question this strategy, and this political movement’s unity started to break. In the end, the dancers decided to part ways with the violent; they wanted to dance in the next ball, and to do so, they wrote a letter to the King, in which they explicitly expressed their rejection of violent ways, and their embracing of dancing as the only means to drive their political agenda. An objective reading of the new Ball Law clearly showed that this was enough: the text only said the requisite for a dancing group was to disavow all kinds of violence.

This wasn’t really expected in Centràlia, so they started to add new requirements in an attempt to keep this group from the contest: their decisive majority in Verdània was at stake.

The Royal Ball was nearing and registrations for the contest would soon close. The Centralian government first argued that the dancing group should reject the violence coming from the Verdanian extremists in particular. The dancers did it. Then they argued that the dancers were the same people who had been supporting violence in Verdània for years, and “obviously” their violence rejection statement was a lie. The dancers struggled to find new dancers who had not been involved in past dances. But it was not enough. They then claimed that this dance group should be quarantined for four years, until they could prove they really were serious about their new non-violent ideas.

The dance group made a plea to the Tristànian Supreme Counsel, a group of sixteen experts in law of the Kingdom, and argued that all of these draconian requirements were not part of the law that was being enforced by the King. Their appeal to the elder counselors was in vain, though. They ruled this dancing group was as criminal as the violent minority they had once supported, and should by no means take part in the Royal Ball.

As a last, desperate measure, the dancing group reached an agreement with other Verdanian dancers to join forces. They would adopt a new name and new dancing costume colours. Many feared this would only end up in the ban of the other dancing group.

Unfortunately, the end of this story has not been written yet, but it will be completed very soon. Only time will tell if things continue being very sad and unfair in Tristània, or if the dance contest will once again be impartial, with legitimate results.

Calçotada!

Mon, 28 Feb 2011 23:22:00 +0000

This past weekend I’ve had the pleasure to join our friends from Valls, in the Camp de Tarragona, for our annual Calçotada in Picamoixon’s countryside. This was the fourth time in a row I attend, and as always, it’s been a blast, even if Enric and Clara weren’t there, and the Valencian group was reduced to just 5 of us.

Unfortunately I had my share of alcohol on Friday evening/night while partying with my workmates so when we got to Tarragona I was basically wasted. This made me not want to take a single sip of any kind of beverage not consisting of a 100% of water during the two days, but that didn’t, of course, spoil a single moment of fun.

Again, we’ve had the full traditional pack: prepare, cook and enjoy the delicious calçots; our share of mayhem just after eating them, during the calçot war, which this time resulted in a really filthy face and hair; our little walk around the area, including a visit to the “chapel of the altar boy”; play in the metres tall mountains of gravel in the quarry and a brief visit to the ruins of an abandoned house, to discover none of its floors have colapsed yet.

A great finish for a great weekend is getting to visit Jordi and Anna, after 3 years of no luck, and finally meeting their lovely 2.5 years old daughter Martina.

This weekend just rocks, and I’m already looking forward to next year’s!

Smoke

Fri, 31 Dec 2010 15:47:00 +0000

Last night was the last time I came back from a pub with my clothes stinking due to tobacco smoke. The Spanish congress has finally approved a real anti-smoking law which will ban smoking on public areas, with no exceptions or ways to workaround the ban. Starting on January 2nd, the Spanish state will be a smoke-free region (or mostly, it seems it’ll be permitted in open-air events like football stadiums or bullrings, and I don’t think that will be a great problem for me, specially the latter).

For years, my intolerance to smoke has been increasing and I’m really expectant to see the benefits of this law in my habits. After more than 30 years dealing with smoke around us, it’s our turn now. I’ve been speaking to a few barmans. In general they seem worried this will affect their business, but I can’t see how it will. Spain has a big culture for having mid-morning almuerzos in bars, and people are not going to give that up due to not being able to smoke. They will just do it after they get out, not during the coffee, and that’s it. The barmans of the two bars I visit most are non-smokers, but have to breath the smoke of hundreds of cigarretes every day, and can’t do anything about it. Until tomorrow, when this will end and everyone will have a right to breath better air. I hope this kind of legislation continues to be adopted throughout Europe, because the FOSDEM welcome party is probably the next smoke horror I’ll have to face soonish. :)

32

Thu, 20 May 2010 20:33:00 +0000

On Saturday I turned 32. I haven’t been able to sit down for ten minutes and scribble the “mandatory” blog entry, a sign that I’m extremely busy (luckily not only due to academic and professional reasons; the social part of the problem is very significant). This year I was gifted with a costumes Festa de l’Horta being held on the very same day as my birthday, and it was memorable (in many ways).

Add an unexpected climbing evening on Friday, and getting to see my fantastic 2 year old niece Vida, who came from Norwich for a visit, made a great birthday weekend. I feel I’m going through a very, very sweet stage of my life; I really can’t remember the last time I generally had no big worries or black clouds all over my head. I hope it stays like this for a while…

Cabanyal

Sun, 31 Jan 2010 23:52:00 +0000

Today, I was glad to attend the biggest demonstration ever in favour of the Cabanyal neighbourhood of València, a traditional district populated by the sea people of the city. After decades of oblivion, the Valencian right-wing government is trying to execute an old plan to “open Valencia to the sea”, which means demolishing around 450 traditional houses, many of them under protection for their cultural and architectural value, to extend a big avenue until the beach. Patrimonial loss aside, neighbours would be forced to other areas in the city (sadly, this has been happening for a decade already), making Cabanyal-Canyamelar the new posh neighbourhood for the richer class, destroying its identity and replacing it with a new set of skyscrapers.

The local government of PP, led by the infamous Rita Barberá, knows that getting the anti-riot police in the neighbourhood and forcing very old men and women out of the houses where they were born isn’t what many people like to see in the evening news. They also know time is their ally; this plan is many decades old, and there’s no need to hurry now, so it’s better to apply silent mafia tactics on the problem. It’s very easy.

First, stop investing a single euro in the area and monitor the slow but effective results of the degradation. Have a bit of patience, and after quite a few years, start promoting the illegal occupation of the increasing number of empty houses by marginal collectives which will bring the associated introduction of drug dealing in the area. This will surely make even more people leave or accelerate their decease. Keep repeating this process, until the Cabanyal is really fucked up. Now, start promoting the “rehabilitation plan”, which unavoidably includes splitting the neighbourhood in two pieces, and destroying a substantial part of it. Hopefully, many of the neighbours not directly affected by the demolitions will back the plan, they can’t be blamed for being really fed up after all. Do all you can to confront those in favour to those against. In the meanwhile, start harrassing owners, make them end up selling their property at ridiculous prices and as soon as this happens, demolish it very quickly. Don’t even bother with cleaning up the rubble: an increasing number of sites like this all over the place may be what makes a few more families give up and leave.

In the end, you either have an empty neighbourhood, or you’ve managed to demolish all the annoying houses that block your shiny avenue. However, if a Supreme Court argues that the remaining houses still have some cultural value, you might want to consider changing your local law to unprotect those architectural elements.

Today, many thousands of Valencians marched around Cabanyal to say “enough!”. From the street, I saw several old women out on the balconies of their beautiful houses, their eyes wet with tears, while they observed in silence all that many people who were fighting for them. There’s still a long way to go in the courts until this is all over, but at least these people have a little more hope today than those in el Carme or La Punta, who ended up losing similar battles, years ago.

Dead PowerBook G4

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 22:07:00 +0000

A few weeks ago I was trying to get GRUB2 for PowerPC back to work on my PowerBook G4 15", and had some problems getting OF doing the right thing. Not being an OF expert at all, I found myself making things a bit worse, ending up with an unbootable laptop and, what a classic, unable to boot my old rescue CD to get yaboot back in its place.

So I googled a bit and ended up deciding that, given the boot parametres and some other stuff like the system’s clock were doing strange stuff, reset-nvram would help getting things in a better shape that would at least permit CD booting. So there, reset-nvram, followed by reset-all, as found in all the OpenFirmware cheatsheets I found all over the web, and damn it, nothing changed and I was back into the OpenFirmware prompt. I used the power button to reset the laptop once again, and that was the last time I saw something functional on the PowerBook.

Now, when I start the computer, all I hear is the Apple startup sound, followed by the sound of the CD drive (which has eaten an Ubuntu 5.10 CD) trying to spin up for a pair of seconds, and then nothing. There’s nothing displayed on the LCD, or any other sign of “life”. My searches in Google indicate this is a logic board failure and you can imagine that is not cheap to get fixed by Apple support.

I’ve tried numerous keyboard combo tricks I didn’t even know about, and none seem to work. The computer doesn’t seem to be responding to the builtin keyboard, an Apple USB keyboard I borrowed, or an external display. I’m annoyed because I’ve looked after this laptop really well and it was in a really good condition, so I’m going to see if it can be fixed for a reasonable amount.

Apple care in València is not an option. They say a logic board (if this is really what is causing trouble) costs around 500€, so I’ll have to explore other ways. The first one is trying to find out if these symptoms (nothing on the display, key combos don’t appear to work, etc.) really point to a fried logic board or could be something else. I’ve tried removing the RAM and replacing it with my old one, but that didn’t work either. So, if anyone reading this has some Apple PowerPC hardware experience and can share some of their knowledge and suggestions, I’d be really, really grateful.

Plan B involves hiring a coworker, who I believe is the son of McGyver, to try to get it repaired for me. This would involve buying spare parts in eBay or some other place to try to get the replaced. Again, suggestions, donations and ideas are welcome in this front too. :)

Jose Vicente loves fixing stuff, and right before the Summer he already showed what he can do with a screwdriver and some patience. Some weeks before, I had managed to shatter the LCD screen of my Nokia 6500s when I lost my grip while climbing down a mountain in El Cadí, and the phone in my pocket hit a big rock. The phone worked, but I all I could see in the screen were some cracks in random colours. People suggested I should get a new phone, but I really don’t want to generate even more polluting waste when all that was needed was replacing a cheap component.

My phone during its stay in McGyver’s hideout

Flags and outrages

Mon, 07 Sep 2009 19:04:00 +0000

A bit more than two years ago, two young Spaniards on vacation in Latvia maybe went a bit too far during one of their night parties and decided to remove some Latvian flags that hanged from a post in the streets of Riga. They spent 1 month in prison, with charges for outraging the Latvian flag.

The Spanish media talked about the disproportionate charges, the ridiculous and “medieval” laws in Latvia and so on.

Today, we learn that Jaume d’Urgell will go to prison due to the “outraging” crime of substituting the current Spanish flag with the Republican flag of 1931 on the facade of a public building.

So much for medieval laws and institutions like the Spanish monarchy.

Barcelona

Fri, 29 May 2009 02:50:00 +0000

Last weekend I finally managed to travel to Barcelona to visit my family and some friends. As my agenda was quite packed with stuff to do, I was unable to find out if any of the Ubunteros had arrived early for UDS, and I left just after lunch on Sunday.

Unfortunately, I had totally missed that before UDS, Canonical held their allhands meeting, and it would have been easy to meet them on Friday night after I got in the city. What a pitty, and sorry about this, mdz, I would have loved to meet… :(

In other Barcelona news, I’m sure that UDS attendees will be astonished (or fed up!) by the football crazyness going on right now. Last night I went to a culer bar near Woody and enjoyed watching how Barça claimed brilliantly their 3rd Champions Cup. For someone who normally doesn’t care that much about football, the last few weeks have been incredible.

Today I visited my 96 year old grandfather, and even if he has lost much of his expressiveness and energy since the last few months, today he was visibly happy and proud of what his Barça has managed to accomplish this season. Three titles, plus literally going over Real Madrid in Santiago Bernabeu. Barça is definitely més que un club, and I’m happy that my grandfather was able to enjoy it.

31

Fri, 15 May 2009 17:16:00 +0000

So, today I turn 31. Fortunately I’ve had a year to learn that the thirties change nothing, and looking back, I can easily say I’ve enjoyed one of the best years I remember.

Today, a bit of protesting in the Plaça de l’Ajuntament against the old menaces of the Valencian Botanical Garden, and just after that, beer time around the Cedre area.

The amount of email, Facebook stuff and calls I’ve been getting today since I woke up is impressive. Thanks everyone! ;)

Spanish Cup final in València

Wed, 13 May 2009 20:21:00 +0000

València is again taken over by football fans, who have come from all over the Basque Country and Catalunya to watch the Copa de España final in Mestalla stadium. The city is literally tinted in red, white, blue and maroon and thousands of supporters (more than 60.000) have flooded the streets.

If you can’t beat them, join them, so for a change, I’m going to join the crazyness and will go to the Athletic Hiria to watch the game in the middle of the leonera.

I can’t wait to see how the Basque and Catalan supporters who have tickets for the game will react when the King of Spain enters the VIP area in Mestalla. Apparently, more powerful loudspeakers have been installed in the stadium in an attempt to mitigate what I expect to be the biggest catcall in a Spanish football stadium since we have a King…

Gora Barça, Visca l’Athletic!

Words

Wed, 01 Apr 2009 00:41:00 +0000

Some days I wish I could selectively get rid of some memories. I would probably cut out a small chunk of today’s evening, to avoid remembering some tough words that I’ve been told. On the other hand, I feel I have lots of things to learn from these moments, given enough time, after the dust has settled. El tiempo todo lo cura…

Calçotada in Valls

Fri, 06 Mar 2009 01:20:00 +0000

It’s here! This weekend is again the time to go up to Valls, my friend Frago’s town, to meet his friends and enjoy a new edition of their calçotada. Like other years, this will be a crazy event that will cover the whole weekend. I’m looking forward to our traditional calçot war, and spending tomorrow’s night around a big fire in the middle of the country side of Tarragona.

Frago and I, after last year’s calçot war

A horrible Valencian tradition

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 17:02:00 +0000

My workmate Pep was kind enough to drive me home back from work today. Ideally I would have cycled home as always, however today my bike was stolen again. It’s not the first time or the second one, not even the third. My red Orbea is the fourth bicycle that gets stolen since cycling became my primary means of transportation more than 10 years ago.

Sadly, in València, the norm is to get your bicycle stolen every few years, if you need to leave it unattended during work hours. In this case, its even worse as the bike stays inside the University campus all day, supposedly guarded by security personnel, and in a place where dozens of people tie their bicycles, with constant presence of the people who work in the CPI complex.

This bicycle was given to me by Cherry when she left València, just a week after the previous one had been stolen. She had bought it to cycle around the Valencian mountains during her 6 month stay in Clara’s lab, and was immensely kind to give it to me when she learned what happened to mine.

I planned using the mountain bike during the long 9 d’octubre weekend, but I’ll have to see if someone can lend one for this year’s cycling trip.

It seems I’ll have to resort, again, to my 29 year old Laida to move around València, which will need an extensive repair of both wheels and brakes. Time to visit Benimaclet’s bicycle workshop.

Mouth Freedom

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 04:12:00 +0000

Today I got the brackets attached to my lower jaw teeth removed. What I’m experiencing now is something like mouth freedom. I mean, I can even move my tongue around my mouth painlessly!

Festa!

Wed, 10 Sep 2008 02:16:00 +0000

The word is out! Carles, Jonathan, Sabri and I will be throwing a hopefully great 30th anniversary party next weekend. It will start at 12:00 on Saturday and finish at some point during the next day. We have planned fun games during our “30thlon”, prepared infinite hours of all kinds of music (including Chimo Bayo, NO LESS!), bought a supermarket worth of drinks. Do not miss!

Uno, que no pare ninguno!

Marc Belzunces' conscience objection fight

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 21:20:00 +0000

Yesterday, my friend Marc had to visit a court in Barcelona, after being accussed for an electoral penalty.

Marc has always had a strong Catalan sentiment, and fights for the independence of his country from the French and Spanish states in as many ways he finds convenient. In this direction, he’s been involved in countless activities promoting independence, in the Internet and in the streets.

For now, he has to deal with living in the Spanish state, and recently this became a legal problem. Spain held parlamentary elections in March, and Marc was appointed to serve at one of the polling stations in Barcelona. Believing he had nothing to do with an election process to elect the Spanish parliament, he conciously refused to take his seat during that Sunday, infringing the Spanish electoral law.

He presented his allegations to the officer, and refused to declare anything else. He now faces a fine ranging from 180 to 1800€ or community work (which he would, again, object to perform). The officer told him that he’s apparently the first Catalan to object like this, so what will happen next (besides he’ll have to sit in court and see how it goes) is unprecedented.

While Marc and I don’t share many of our political views, I admire his dedication and his solid defence of his ideals. If I had been called to serve in a polling station last March, I would most probably have had my own personal debate on what to do, but suspect I would have ended going there to avoid creating these kind of situations, and would have had to participate in a process that I consider broken, unfair and undemocratic. I admire and support Marc for being stubborn enough to get this far.

His case has had quite some echo in the Catalan blogsphere and some Catalan media like VilaWeb. Some people have started a campaign to collect money to help Marc pay the fine. The response so far has been surprisingly positive.

Marc, molta sort i una abraçada!

In the news

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 22:31:00 +0000

The newspapers brought good news bits in the last two days.

Público reports on Paco Rivière’s ongoing quest to get a refund for the extra money he had to pay for a Windows licence when he bought a laptop. Paco is a well known member of the Ubuntu Catalan community and has been battling for this common-sense right for 3 years. The trial took place last Monday, and hopefully he’ll be able to report some good news soon.

In totally unrelated news, the Valencian caveman Juan García Sentandreu, leader of the right-wing “Coalición Valenciana” party, was arrested yesterday, for still not too clear reasons. Being one of the biggest enemies of my language, and having a long record of violent attacks to cultural entities and other political parties in València, I can’t say I pitty him at all. I hope he had fun sleeping with the yonkis in the central police station last night. :)

Naked bike ride

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 19:58:00 +0000

Knowing many people in the Debian community, I knew others would be there too. And Gunnar confirmed it yesterday via Planet Debian. Yes, I participated in the World Naked Bike Ride, although at the time I didn’t know about the campaign, I thought people were doing it “just because we can” mostly.

So, after being invited to the ride the week before, 5 of our colla were in the old Túria’s river bed, near the Fira Alternativa’s scenary at the scheduled time. Not having done anything like this before, we were a bit expectant to see how many people would actually do it, before deciding to join them. After a while, more and more people seemed to gather, and it finally took off. Pants off, and there we go!

The insane amount of photographing and filming that was going on around us at the beginning was a bit uncomfortable, but after a while we had mostly forgotten we were riding our bikes naked through the commercial arteries of València. The ride was too long for my taste, covering the whole Fira, Plaça d’Amèrica, carrer Colom just in front of “El Corte Inglés” (I wonder how many known people saw me there), Xàtiva, Russafa, back to Xàtiva, Town Hall, Ciutat Vella, river margin and Blasco Ibáñez.

Even if it was a sunny day, the chilly wind made me feel really cold, but overall it was quite fun, and an interesting experience I might or might not repeat. I’m certainly not becoming a naturism activist or anything like this. I do think we have way too many taboos, and every time I get rid of one, I feel a lot better. :)

Thank you!

Tue, 20 May 2008 21:43:00 +0000

Last Thursday, and the few days after, were quite intense. A series of events made me feel really loved by a lot of people, which is always a good reminder of what kind of friends you are surrounded by.

I could talk about Pep’s gift at work, Visenteta, a goldfish which now lives in an aquarium at home, which in turn was donated by Cristina and Brande. While I still have mixed feelings about keeping animals in cages, my choices were give it a better place than the small bowl where it initially lived, give it away to someone who could properly take care of Visenteta, or sacrifice it. I unsuccessfully tried #2, can’t do #3 myself, so I accepted Brande’s offer to have a decently-sized aquarium at home. Visenteta seems happy today, and I’ve learned all about aquarium maintenance the hard way.

During the day my mobile phone didn’t rest for too long intervals; everyone was calling it to congratulate me and so on. But the bigger emotions came after leaving work, when I went to l’Alqueria to hang around with my friends and see if they would go have an orxata with Maria and me. Strangely, they refused, being in the middle of an apparently very important plant transplantation operation. When suggested going for dinner instead, the reaction was pretty cold too, but this was understandable as we’d meet on Friday at my place for a tiny celebration. In the end we headed off to Alboraia alone and had a delicious orxata in Toni’s shop.

Maria said she had a surprise reservation in a Indo-Pakistani restaurant near my house, so after a while we cycled back to València. As it was getting dark and cold, we went into my house to get some clothes, and when I opened the living room door, I was scared by a bunch of shadows suddenly shouting at me and was buried in confetti. I couldn’t react for the next 10 seconds, while my brain quickly built relations of many details that had happened during the week, all part of the preparations for a secret party at my own place.

Wow, the feeling is incredible. I’ve participated in similar surprise parties, but had never been the target. I hope everyone reading this gets one at least once in their lives, I really loved it!

But still, when the party ended, I slowly started to find little gifts all over the place: a book under my pillow, a bicycle bell on my handlebar, a cactus for my computer space…

My friends had been planning all of this for the last two weeks, and I never suspected anything. Incredible! It really makes me feel surrounded by people who care about and love me, and went through the hassle of coordinating 10 or 12 persons with me not noticing at all. Thank you, everyone!

The book, by the way, is Si no plou, plourà, by TV3’s Mònica López, a fun compendium of popular weather proverbs which we discovered in a gas station in Tarragona, during our Easter trip to la Terra Alta.

30

Thu, 15 May 2008 09:57:00 +0000

And today, I finally turn 30. I’ve been grumpy about this day getting closer and closer for the last three or four years, which have passed in front of my eyes with me nearly not noticing.

The last year has had more downs than ups, and at times has been quite dark. I feel things are slowly getting better, and I spend more time looking forward than back, which certainly should help.

Tomorrow I’ll hold a small party at home with some friends, but the big and proper event will be in September, when five or six people in our colla, born in 1978, will celebrate our 30^th birthday, in a massive, weekend-long party already dubbed La festa dels excessos. You shouldn’t miss this one!

Thanks to the many people who have phoned, texted or emailed me already. It reminds me that I’m surrounded by people who love me and were there when I needed them.

Black screens in Alacant

Tue, 11 Dec 2007 23:15:00 +0000

Six months ago, a political group in Spain made a big fuss and noise when the Government of Venezuela closed down the anti-chavist RCTV TV station, and waved the flag of freedom of speech, called the democratically elected government a “regime”, and called their president a “dictator”.

On Sunday night, these very same people, following orders from the leaders of the Valencian government —or should I say regime—, drove up to the top of the Carrasqueta peak in Xixona, in the South of the Valencian Country, and protected by the winter’s darkness, proceeded to force open two locks, broke into ACPV’s property and unplugged and precincted the equipment which had been broadcasting the signal of TV3 and the rest of the public Catalan TV channels to the South of our land, for the last 21 years.

Although this wasn’t unexpected it is probably one of the biggest attacks to freedom of speech, choice and plurality since democracy was restored in the state. The political benefit PP is planning to obtain from this attack is clear: pleasing the regional right-wing cavemen who think we have nothing to do with the Catalan culture just 2 months away from some very decisive elections will probably give them a handful of extra votes. There are also economical interests involved, like having right-wing media groups control even more digital TV channels that they already do, but that’s really anecdotic now.

Two nights ago, it was the South. In a matter of days, the antennas in the Bartolo, in the North of the Valencian territory, will also be unplugged, blackening the screens of thousands of Valencians who think they have the right to watch decent quality TV in their mother tongue. Thank you, fascists.

Four more years

Mon, 28 May 2007 01:10:00 +0000

1:00 AM. València celebrates with big fireworks, and drivers sound their horns along Blasco Ibánez. People are happy; we will have our urban F1 circuit after all. Our city will continue growing and becoming the very best of Europe. Our land will continue to be developed, and finally becoming the new Côte d’Azur, for the great benefit of a few.

The slow but unstoppable process of degrading a culture to something that can be admired by tourists during Fallas just reached a new milestone.

Welcome to my ex-country. The land of golf, sailing and open-wheel racing.

Stolen bike. Again.

Tue, 22 May 2007 13:47:00 +0000

València clearly leaves no room for mistakes when it comes to bicycles, I just got reminded of this the hard way today.

Last night I came out of the institute just 15 minutes before the closing of the supermarket, and I wanted to buy some stuff for dinner. I rushed back home, and decided I had no time to go up to drop my backpack and bicycle before they would close, so I just tied it to a street lamp outside the supermarket door. I ended up buying a few heavy things like milk so when I went out I then realised I wouldn’t be able to carry the four bags, plus the backpack, plus the bicycle up, and the easiest would be to drop the stuff at home and then go down again for the bicycle. Great plan, except after placing the food in the cabinets, I totally forgot about the bike and did the usual cooking-laundry-computer-bed ritual.

Only when I was ready to go to work today I realised the bike was not up in the flat, and I suddenly realised about my fuckup. A quick glance from the balcony revealed what I suspected: the bike was no longer there.

This is quite annoying because there are at least three bikes that sleep outside on the street every single day, although they look “old” and value-less. Ironically, I value old bikes more than any new mountain-bike like mine, which I got for free from my bank, and was pretty crappy, even if at first glance it appeared to be quite ok Orbea (the gears were crappy Shimano, the back wheel was deformed, and a long etc. of quirks).

As I feel quite impaired without a bike, I’ll try to get my mother’s Orbea Laida, fixed ASAP, something I should have done 7 months ago. For now, I’ll just run home/to work; I really need it anyway.

People tell me I should just get one from the stolen bicycle market in València, and I get mad at them. These people are the reason there’s such a big offer for stolen bikes, and they get stolen nearly professionally in València. Sigh.

29

Tue, 15 May 2007 18:31:00 +0000

Turning 29 means I’m really near the age of 30, becoming grumpy and watching how the 40’s keep getting closer and closer. Oh no!

On the more positive side, it also means I’ve been getting calls from the people who love me all day long, and I’ll celebrate with my friends tonight, at Terra. Thanks everyone!

No more TV3 in the Valencian Country: another example of PP's democracy

Mon, 26 Mar 2007 20:08:00 +0000

Tomorrow at 9 in the morning some officers from the Valencian regional Government will drive up to the mountains of the Bartolo, Serra Perentxissa, Montdúver and Carrasqueta to power off the set of antennas which have broadcasted the signal of TV3, the Catalan public television, during the last 20 years for the entire Valencian territory. These news have been responded with protests from most of the Valencian cultural collectives. You can sign a petition, or send an e-mail, which will be swiftly ignored by the people in charge.

Behind the official reasoning for this attack to our freedom of choice -the broadcast is illegal- there is a set of good reasons for the usual suspects, the Valencian Partido Popular to do this. The biggest one is that two months before the local and regional elections, the right-wing are doing their math and it may not be working out too well for them. They need to scrape as many votes as they can, and an easy granary is attracting the extreme right-wing, which is a bit active but fragmented in the region, and mostly in the city of València. This social group is greatly virulent against anything which sounds like “Catalan”, especially the people known as “blaveros”, who claim our culture and language has no common root and has nothing to do with the culture and language from the North. Fortunately, the ISO 639 standard and the entire scientific community agree that they are nuts.

But back to my rant. So, how can the PP try to get a handful of votes from the right-wing? Easy, start an anti-TV3 show on the media and start scalating it until the final act -tomorrow-, where milions of citizens are deprived of one of the best channels available in our TV sets. This will surely be sold as a major victory against the “Catalan invasion” or as the end of an “alegal situation”, although there are like 30 other channels in the same situation in the city of València, and the PP-controlled Canal 9 channel is broadcasted in the Balear Islands (also controled by PP) in the same legal situation.

In a time when watching Middle-East or American channels is trivial using a satellite set, some people think the best thing they can do is to end a service paid and provided for free by Acció Cultural del País Valencià, an important cultural entity, during the last 20 years, ending the right to choose one of the only channels with all the programs in our language for milions of Valencians. Their right to do it is also challenged in court, but there is no doubt that tomorrow they’ll go ahead and shut it off.

We could have a reasonable government who would maybe want to accept the Catalan TV and radio channels in our territory, if the Catalan government would also accept our (crappy) channels in theirs, but they refuse this as well, because they now “feel insulted”. All in all, I had enough of PP long ago, and am hoping I am not the only one. In less than a month, Valencians will celebrate the 300^th anniversary of the Batalla d’Almansa on the 25th of April of 1707, although we seem to be fighting a new battle now in 2007.

The Batalla d’Almansa meant the end of the War of the Spanish Succession in Spain, but also the start of tough times for our culture, language, and people, when Felipe V abolished the Valencian furs. But this story can make a blog post of its own next month.

Quan el mal ve d’Almansa, a tots alcança…

Calçotada and lunar eclipse in Picamoixons

Wed, 07 Mar 2007 21:31:00 +0000

Last weekend I had great fun during my first calçotada with my friends in Picamoixons, very near Valls in Tarragona. While it’s already a tradition for my friends, this was the first time I went there, after having missed many other opportunities probably due to my overcommitment to triathlon training a few years ago.

So on Friday we drove up North to Catalunya, and arrived quite late to Frago’s house in the center of Valls, where we slept in two packed rooms and the terrace after getting some beers in Dune. Early next morning we met Frago’s friends and bought the necessary vegetables and wine for our great lunch, and soon after we were in the middle of some olive field outside Picamoixons, where we prepared a big fire and the calçots.

A calçot is a special type of onion which grows in the area, which ends up being very long and thin. After cutting part of the green leaves, they are cooked over the flames, which carbonises the first few layers of the onion, but leaves the inner part ready for consumption. After this, you just need to pull from the inner leaves to get rid of the burnt stuff and eat the rest with a delicious and typical sauce for calçots. So far, so good.

What if your group of friends has extended the tradition, allowing for extra fun bits? In our calçotades, after you’ve peeled the calçot, you keep the carbonised stuff. It’s valuable ammo, which will soon be thrown at others’ faces. Trying to remain clean is futile, you soon are covered by sauce and black stuff all over your head and clothes. This was real fun!

After eating part of the group went up a mountain to visit an arab tower, which helped me not to get totally drunk before the night. When it got dark, we were all back to our positions around the fire, chatting and listening to varied music, while we waited for the lunar eclipse.

The eclipse was impressive, seen from the country side, with absolutely no luminic contamination. My friend Jordi carefully prepared his camera to do a good photograph series of the event, and the results were impressive. When the eclipse was about to be full, it was great to see a miriad of stars appear in the sky, previously hidden by the perfect full moonlight. We were just too lucky that the weather fixed up just on time to have a completely clear sky.

The lunar eclipse, as seen from the Catalan countryside. Pics by Jordi Jover.

Many were quite tired by 3 or so, so we started setting up tents and went to sleep by 4. Sunday was a slow day, dedicated to cleaning up our stuff and eating leftovers cooked on a new fire. We were back in València at 8PM or so and even after showering and cleaning my hair with shampoo, my head still smelled like smoke. Actually, I think it might still smell a tiny bit today.

In short, a lovely weekend, which I hope to repeat next year. Too bad the lunar eclipse bit will be missing for quite a few more years. :)

At the crossroad

Wed, 27 Dec 2006 18:09:00 +0000

Two Fridays ago, on the 15th of December, I finished my support contract with Canonical. Last Wednesday, or just 5 days after leaving Canonical, was my last day working for LliureX, the Valencian Debian-based educational distro which is being developed by the Conselleria de Cultura, Educació i Esport. Definitely an intense week…

In both cases, terminating the contract was my decision. I was working for Canonical for a small amount of hours per month, and I enjoyed doing it as it allowed me to work along with the great people who are developing Launchpad in a unique company like Canonical, but at some point my stress started to pile up and freeing time for myself seemed a good thing to do. I also had been working at LliureX for 2.5 years and I was starting to feel I had to move on, as the project has changed a bit since I joined it and because I think I need to see new things and explore new challenges.

And the challenge is called ITI, a CS research institute in the Universitat Politècnica de València, where I’ll start working in a pair of weeks thanks to ex-lliurex co-worker Sergio. My main task will be sysadmin work, but the ITI gets many interesting contracts every few months, and I suspect I’ll be working with Debian and Ubuntu at work very soon.

The new job is pretty close to my house and the idea is that being in the University campus and having some more free time will allow me to retake a few activities like completing my studies, resuming some of my triathlon training (you’ve gotta see the awesome athletics ring and olympic swimming pool just 100 metres away from the institute!) and other stuff I have been neglecting for way too long.

I leave behind quite a few friends and many good people, and getting used to the idea of not speaking or chatting to them on a daily basis isn’t that easy. To compensate, I’m sure I’ll meet lots of cool people next year.

Bones festes!

Toni Cucarella abandons his writing activities

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 19:47:00 +0000

There were more shocking news for me when I got back home yesterday.

Via Toni Hermoso, I learned that Toni Cucarella, a Valencian writer I recently discovered, just announced that he has abandoned his writing activities, just a little bit after announcing he wouldn’t further update his blog.

I learned about Toni Cucarella’s literature aproximately one year ago, when I heard about a new novel, Quina lenta agonia, la dels ametlers perduts, on the radio, which sounded interesting. The book fascinated me as soon as I started reading. Describing the life of a group of children in the outskirts of Xàtiva, a small city south of València, in the late 1960s, Cucarella managed to transmit some feelings about my childhood during the summers of the early 80s around my town in the inner province of Castelló.

It wasn’t anything in particular what did this, but the way the book was written, which managed to describe how these kids lived happily and in freedom around their houses, regardless their economic status and the difficulties their families went through. All of this reminded me of my sister, cousins and friends running around the streets and fields, away from our parents or any adults, in a time when nobody thought this was dangerous or irresponsible. The only two sins were to play on the road or to get back home a lot after the sunset.

Toni Cucarella has been very vocal against the Language Authorities in València regarding the unity of the Catalan language, and specifically against the Acadèmia Valenciana de la Llengua, a recently created institution which now has competence over the “Valencian language”, something that was previously in the hands of a scientific institution like the Universitat de València. He has finally burned out, not only due to the bad situation Catalan literature is in the Valencian Country, but also because leaving aside two very prominent exceptions, Valencian authors are basically ignored in Catalunya, making their subsistence quite difficult.

I hope Toni can build some new motivations after some time and the public can enjoy new novels written by him in the future, as well as more of those very interesting blog entries we had got used to reading every few days.

In the meanwhile, thanks for your writings, Toni, and good luck with your new activities!

Hasta la vista, Pinocho

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 19:29:00 +0000

Last night, when we got home after the long weekend up around the awesome Terres de l’Ebre, first thing I learned from the news is that Augusto Pinochet had finally died while we were driving back. It is too bad that once again he managed to avoid a trial that would have made him officially guilty of all the horrible happenings of Chile during his military coup and his bloody dictatorship.

But he’s gone now, and this will be a great relief for the thousands of Chileans who survived his regime, and for those who lost family members or friends just because they defended some ideals. The world will associate his surname to torture, murder and corruption; he surely won’t be remembered for the image of the old, calm man surrounded by family members that an ever-shrinking minority tried to transmit.

Last night, I raised my cup to celebrate Pinochet’s death. ¡Viva Chile!

Visited the opthalmologist

Mon, 25 Sep 2006 10:53:00 +0000

Today I went to the hospital to visit the opthalmologist. The good news: as expected, what happened the other day was just a case of optical migraine, which needs no treatment and I shouldn’t worry about. Thanks to everyone who mailed me or commented in the blog giving advice or wishing me luck!

The doctor examined my retina, and found nothing wrong with them that would cause “lights” or total blindness. He did find what he described as “the start of retinal folding”, which might be congenite, but I should keep an eye on in case it becomes a real problem. Apparently I should be vigilant to objects appearing with deformed shapes, etc.

So I came back earlier that expected to office, but I really can’t do anything here due to the pupil dilation. Everything is blurry, light is extremely annoying, and I’m writing this using a ridiculously big terminal font.

The “get decent sleep” plan continues, and I’ve been sleeping the expected amount of hours since last Tuesday.

Temporarily blind

Thu, 21 Sep 2006 20:13:00 +0000

The other day I had an “incident” involving my vision. It has nothing to do with the vision problems many people had the other day, when someone posted some pr0n on various Planets.

For some time already, maybe two or three years, I’ve had this weird vision problem at times, when I’d start seeing some black stains with some flashing “lights“, even with my eyes closed. These symptoms would go away after a few minutes, and washing my eyes with a good amount of water also helped. It happened a lot during mornings, and I somehow connected it to showering with too hot water, using a certain brand of shampoo (Say no to Revlon!) and shower vapour. When I described the symptoms to my mother, the reaction was the expected in a house of doctors and nurses: indiference. En casa del herrero, cuchillo de palo, for those who understand it.

On Sunday I stayed up helping Belén with her DEA paper until 5AM. I woke up at 7:30AM, and stayed at work like a zombie, until I had a chance to have a needed nap at 6PM. The problem was my nap was a bit longer than I wanted, and woke up at 9:15PM, still tired but no longer sleepy. I wasn’t sleepy until 4AM, and next morning I accidentally overslept, and rushed out of the bed to get to work as soon as possible.

While preparing, I suddenly noticed my vision went a bit blurry and strange. I thought it just was one of those ”stains”, until I closed my right eye to rub it and all I saw was darkness.

I totally freaked out. “OMFG, I’m fucking BLIND”. I wanted to phone someone, but wireless had broken down and I didn’t have my mobile phone with me, so I tried looking at a text file I have in the laptop with some numbers on, when it ran out of battery. I grabbed my old mobile and failed to introduce the correct PIN three times.

I went to the bathroom, covered my right eye, and yeah, there was darkness. If I waved my hand over my blind eye, I would barely notice some movement on the left side, but that was all. Still very frightened, I washed my eye thoroughly and to my relief, I was able to see the upper part of my field of vision. After some more, I had recovered all my sight. Whew.

I managed to speak to Raül on the phone, who told me this probably wasn’t too bad, just the optic nerve being tired due to stress and so on. My mother also asked an opthalmologist at her hospital the day after, who confirmed this. It’s probably caused by my recent whacky sleeping habits (basically non-existing), general stress, and long exposures to computer monitors. The doctor asked her if I had a headache, which I didn’t the day before, but I had one the day after, when she asked. “How do you know?”, I replied.

Last night I went to bed at 00:05 and managed to sleep eight hours for the first time in many months. I’m really going to make an effort to fix my sleeping habits, because they were quite fucked up lately, not catching up sleep even during weekends. On Monday I’ll visit the doctor anyway, just to confirm all of this.

Coincidentally, Russel Coker also had similar symptoms this week, and also blogged about it.

Qana, Lebanon

Mon, 31 Jul 2006 16:26:00 +0000

I’ve been watching the Lebanese bloodshed since it started. It really makes me sick.

I have discussed this with many friends. There was little discussion though: we all thought this is a plain war against civilian targets. I tried discussing with people who could maybe be more supportive of the Israeli points of view. I tried talking to some of my right-winger relatives… and I haven’t been able to find anyone that can say a word of support of what Israel is doing in Lebanon.

In three weeks, I have seen how Hizbullah killed some Israeli soldiers in some area around the border between Lebanon and Israel. As far as my (as an international online paper reader) judgement can tell, the location where this happened is disputed. Some say it was inside Lebanese territory, the others say it was an Hizbullah incursion into Israeli soldiers. I really don’t care.

The immediate result of this action was a campaign of air strikes against Beirut and other Lebanese cities aiming to give a measured response (cache, and beware this is explicit) to Hizbulla’s aggression. This, apparently, included destroying any vital infrastructure in heavily populated areas of Beirut, including bridges, power plants, hospitals and apparently random buildings.

While the Israeli army said the military operations were aimed to get rid of the Hizbullah camps and infrastructures around the border where they fire their rockets against Haifa and other Israeli cities, and their headquarters in Beirut and other southern cities, what the world espectated during the first three or four days of air strikes was pure horror. Hizbullah-controlled areas were like ghost quarters, so any bombing of those were very unlikely to take any Hizbullah victims. On the other hand, the rising number of civilian victims was the first bits of news that I could hear in my radio as I woke up every morning.

All of this, with a great amount of cinism and unlimitted cruelty. The Israeli army declared that the civilian population in the South should be leaving their homes (measured response), while they knew they were doing exactly what was needed to prevent this, by locking them up around destroyed bridges, harbours, airport and roads. The first columns of the lucky refugees who could afford fleeing to the North were greeted by Israeli bombs, leaving a good number of scattered bodies.

In Spain, the news shocked the public opinion and Zapatero, along with Chirac (IIRC), declared those actions were untolerable and unproportionate, and should be stopped immediately. This brought some local politics fun, when on one side the Israel ambassador in Spain accussed Zapatero of being antisemitic, and the right-wing leader Rajoy called the thousands of people who spontaneously demonstrated against the war in a few cities “clowns” and “ignorant”.

Watching what the UN has done to stop these warcrimes, I really think it’s a great moment to shut down that useless organisation and let some big corporation buy their nice building in New York City to build their offices in it. Once again, when some countries tried to come up with some resolution that forced Israel to stop, the United States waived their vetto flag. Once again, the Security Council has done nothing to put an end to another chapter of violence in the Middle East. The vettoing powers of some of the members is so ridiculous that it makes it totally inoperative. So, as the UK and US governments were not going to do anything to stop the air strikes, Israel had carte blanche to do whatever they wanted for a week.

And then, Israel’s measured response destroyed one of the UN’s buildings in Lebanon, killing four annoying observers, despite their calls warning that the bombs were falling too near their location. Only then, the United States decided to send Condie to have a look around the area, surprise visit to Beirut included.

I wonder, what phone number must the innocent women and children who cannot escape their cities and towns dial in order to warn the Israeli army about the proximity of their bombed targets?

After two visits of Condie to the region, nothing has changed, as the fourth week of operations starts. This is getting on my nerves. I don’t, and won’t, justify any of the Hizbullah attacks on civilian targets using Katyushas, or the kidnapping of soldiers, or whatever. What I see is that unless Israel takes a radically different approach to their problem, nothing will change either. Violence isn’t at least. Apparently, their military operation isn’t going well at all, and is not damaging much of Hizbullah’s military capacity. What are they going to do? Will they occupy southern Lebanon for 20 more years?

The social movements this kind of actions are generating is also very, very worrying. On one hand, I read that around 85% of the Israeli population approve this war and think this is what their government needs to do to make them safe. This is pretty shocking. On the other hand, everyone still in Lebanon, even the Christian community, are united against the attack, helping each other in their survival quest, while the popular support to Hizbullah is rising, with big concentrations of people cheering them in the streets. This is just two years after similar demonstrations in Beirut forced the Syrian military out of the country.

While the Israeli war against Lebanon (I won’t buy the “It’s against Hizbullah” bullshit), sadly all the media, cameras and journalists have given their back on Gaza, which is under similar, but probably more brutal and savage military operations by Israel, as another soldier was kidnapped just one week before all of the Lebanon stuff started. The press doesn’t have any news of how things are going in Gaza. The last thing I remember is that the UN was warning about the threat of a humanitarian disaster due to the lack of any kind of supplies in Palestine. If Palestinian kids are starving, the media are not letting us know.

Yesterday, 54 civilians were killed in an improvised underground bomb shelter in Qana, most of them being children. The Lebanese civilian death toll must be well over 500 as of this writing, with a ratio of at least 1:10 compared to Israeli military victims. When will Olmert have enough? The only way I see this will end up for good is when the Israeli public realises being at war in three fronts is quite expensive and damages their home economies. Maybe, at that point, people start hearing what the Meretz party minority in the country have been saying for years.

Israel has the right to defend itself. This is the official motto of Israeli and American leaders. When this right is extended and abused to the point the main targets and victims are civilians, Israel walks quickly away from a perdurable solution. Today, hostility against the state of Israel is even greater than last month. Hizbullah in Lebanon, Hamas in Palestine, will probably be the winners of the conflict when the bombings end. Not the best recipe for a peaceful future.

Seventy years of the Spanish Civil War and the Spanish Revolution

Tue, 18 Jul 2006 19:07:00 +0000

A few months ago I wrote about the 75th anniversary of the proclamation of the Second Spanish Republic which was celebrated throughout the state. That weekend I visited a fantastic exposition of Republican and Revolutionary war propaganda posters, in Segorbe.

Today, Spain remembers the beginning of the end.

During the evening of the 17th of July and morning of the 18th, a group of generals of the Spanish regular army raised against the democratically elected left-wing government of the Republic. History says that the murdering of Calvo-Sotelo, a right-wing leader, was what finally provoked the conflict. It was no secret that the same right-wing and some elements in the army had been conspiring for weeks about an uprise. The only question was when, but the government was fooled by general Mola and didn’t take really effective measures to prevent it.

Warning from sanitary authorities against venereal diseases

Mola and Sanjurjo planned to start taking over official buildings and army quarters and quickly seize control of the major cities. During the first hours of their rebelion, they managed to take over most of the southern regions in Andalusia, Extremadura and parts of the Northwest, plus most of the islands and the Moroccan protectorate area. Meanwhile, the Republic did not manage to react quickly due to the weakness of the government, and in the first days of the crisis, the government changed a few times. Finally, the Republican parties decided that to defend the state they should give arms to the unions, and soon after many militia groups were getting organised in the cities, and columns sent off to liberate other towns.

Solidarity of Catalunya to the Basque front

The insurrection was suffocated in Barcelona after some heavy fighting against the military in the Montjuïc castle; the Anarchists of the CNT grew strong in Catalunya and Aragón, and offered good resistance in those fronts.

After the first days of the coupe d’etat, it was clear neither the legitimate government or the rebels calculated how things would go after the first days. The government was confident in being able to end the rebelion as they did four years before; the fascists thought they would have quickly brought down the government with a successful coup. But after the first week, the country was divided in two halves, and both sides of the conflict were keen on fighting, due to the big social fracture during the last months of the government.

The Republic asked for help to the League of Nations, but the United Kingdom and France decided not to intervene, scared about the conflict trespassing the Spanish borders and becoming another bloody war in European fields. The only official external aid came from the USSR and the International Brigades, formed by volunteers of more than 50 nations. Some well-known personalities like Ernest Hemingway or George Orwell came to aid as well. Orwell wrote about his life-changing experience in a Barcelona immerse in the social revolution, where he joined the anti-stalinist socialist party POUM. Badly wounded in the neck, he left the front and went back to Barcelona, and witnessed the assault of the Telefònica by the communists against the anarchists, during the fets de maig, after which the POUM was declared illegal. Orwell captured his experiences in the frontline and Barcelona in his book Homage to Catalonia.

“To defend Madrid is to defend Catalunya”

Franco and Mola, aided by the Northafrican troops and soon after by their fascist allies of Italy and Germany, didn’t have big problems seizing the Basque Country and Asturies in the North, but not before making the town of Gernika disappear below the nazi Condor Legion bombing, in what would be a test for the massive aereal bombings of Word War II.

The battle for Madrid was fierce, and the city wasn’t occupied until the very last days of the war. The long defence of the capital made was immortalised in the famous phrase No pasarán.

Madrid’s “No pasarán”

During the war, anarchist groups controlling fields and towns in Aragón and Catalunya managed to bring a Social Revolution to the area. The people collectivised the land and industries, administered by local assemblies. This experience is regarded as the time when Libertarian Communism has been successful. The experience ended dramatically when the anarchists were treasoned and blocked by the communists, and eventually defeated by Franco at the front.

“Each bullet for a target”

After the first and a half years, the fronts had stabilised in Madrid and the East of Andalusia, until early in 1939, Barcelona fell in Franco’s hands, after the bloody Batalla de l’Ebre, being followed by Girona and the rest of Catalunya. The fate of the democratic state was clear. Two months later, Madrid fell and València and the small area still under Republican control surrended.

Robert Capa’s “Muerte de un miliciano”

Franco declared a totalitarian regime to, according to the fascists, “reconcile” the two Spains. In the first five years of the regime, up to 100.000 were executed in the franquist repression, including the Catalan president, Lluís Companys and many intellectuals. The dictatorship continued executing people until two months before Franco’s death, 36 years later. Hundreds of thousands also had to exile in México, France and other destinations, leaving Spain in ashes, road gutters full of scattered bodies and the population facing famine. The cultural elite left the country, making the state’s clock go back at least a decade. Their reconciliation really meant humiliation and repression. Many people were also murdered during the war behind republican and rebel lines, but the genocide of the aftermath had was unmatchable.

The Republic promoted education among the troups

It is a bit late to restore the dignity of the victims, but not too late. Some associations have been fighting since the end of Franco’s regime to get some kind of public recognition for their suffering, for their priceless fight for the legal and democratically elected Republic, for the people who didn’t make it.

Excellent anarchist poster rejecting the politisation
of children by any of the three loyal groups

Other people reject these efforts banning them of “revisionism”. Not too surprisingly, these are the sons or grandsons of the people who won the war. The current government is about to pass a “Historic Memory” law which aims to give recognition to all these people who gave their lives for an ideal and freedom. Unfortunately, due to pressures from the right, it is probable that the text will be ammended to make it more acceptable by them. I fear it will end up not pleasing the victims at all.

I have a passion for Spanish Civil War related matters, and in the last years I tried to use any opportunity to listen to my Catalan grandmother talk about war affairs in Barcelona, and my grandfather, from a town in the middle of the Republican side of the Teruel front, but born in a very catholic family, about how the war went on in Vall and the nearby mountains.

From the defensive “No pasarán” to the encouraging “¡Pasaremos!”

I know my grandfather only told me the less compromising stories, like how he was sent to dig refuges until he was 16 and apt to fight in the Front, or how he was put in charge of hiding the church’s valuable relics in a few barns. He never told me about how life was after the war in the small town. It is dramatic to see that all the people who were old enough to have a sense of what was going on at the time are so old that these unvaluable memories and stories will be mostly gone in ten years.

(Most of the pictures are taken from the Sociedad Benéfica de Historiadores Aficionados y Creadores’ website, which has a huge documented catalog)

Jo no t'espere

Fri, 07 Jul 2006 11:50:00 +0000

Not at all!

The Pope is visiting València next weekend. According to Rita Barberá Noya, the mayor of the city during the last 16 years (I mildly remember her predecessor), “All Valencians will welcome him warmly”. Well, not exactly all.

The Pope’s visit was decided by the previous one a few years ago, and Ratzinger, shortly after being “elected” his successor, announced he would still visit València for the World Meeting of the Family.

In principle, I would have no problems with him come visit the city, even if I have no sympathy at all towards his figure or the role of the Catholic church either in Spain or other places of the world. For example, I think the last two popes are direct responsables for the AIDS drama in many countries of the African continent. It is unacceptable and quite unethical that still today, after decades of fight against this deadly plage, the Vatican keep saying “no” to the usage of condoms.

As I said, I would have no problems with his visit, if it was a normal visit. But no, this is the València, and the government likes to show that they can do things in a grand way. Not so long ago, Ratzinger visited Poland, and from what I’ve read, the authorities there didn’t organise anything grotesque like what’s going on here, in the sense that people living in the areas affected could more or less keep on with their lives, and the visit didn’t cost much of their tax money.

València won’t work like this. Anyone who has visited us will probably know what I mean: the Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències, Terra Mítica, the America’s Cup harbour… are examples of pharaonic projects, all funded with public money that are real black holes of budgets that never end up growing.

The Pope will stay in València around 24 hours, and will give a series of sermons and speeches. For the ocassion, the Valencian local government has gone all the way to make his visit the most spectacular event of the decade. Although the government won’t disclose it officially, the press talks about a cost of 30 or 40 million Euros, paid by all of us, including atheists, agnostics or muslims.

Spain is not a catholic state, officially. Sadly, it is in practice. According to Vatican sources, 94% of Spaniards are catholic. The number goes down to 76.1% according to CIS, but the reality is that just a small fraction of these people are practising catholics. The Spanish church uses these figures to get funds from the state. I am included in that 76% just because I was baptised soon after I was born. There are people trying to apostatise, but it seems in most cases their efforts are futile, as the documentation sent to the eclesiastic authorities is either ignored or sent back with a hilarious excuse such as “your baptism is a historic event and cannot be changed”.

Parts of València have been closed to transit for two months. This is because the authorities found that the optimal place to build his giant altar with a special microclimate was on top of the bridge of Mont Olivet, one of the arteries of south València if you want to leave the city. The neighbours of the area now popularly called “ground zero” have been subject to all kind of annoyances: the access to their houses is restricted, they’ve had to give lists of people living in each place, and they are now not allowed to use the upper terraces of their buildings (they are taken by snippers).

The local police has designed a plan to restrict any kind of transit that affects basically half of the city, even my area which is like 6 kilometres away from the event.

For months, our authorities have used this great opportunity to make religion and the greatness of our pope something normal and quotidian. I haven’t seen such a big interference of my life by the church before, not even with the Aznar government, or when I was a small child and the dictatorship had just ended. They are also using the event to promote the achivements of the right-wing local government (via speeches and the propaganda that is distributed in the backpacks given to volunteers) and to bash the socialist central government (which recently approved gay marriage, a new education law that weakens the weight of religion study in public schools, etc.).

I could go on and on, but this rant would get even more boring. I, like many others, think that all of this is not acceptable. As we tend to not shut up when things like these happen, a civic movement appeared two months ago, with a main goal of letting people know that we are not waiting for him, contrary to what the mayor says. The Jo no t’espere campaign has managed to make opposition to this pompous week by placing banners on balconies. Of course, I have my own, and I’ve also distributed a few more among my friends, one of them being placed a mere 70 metres away from the pope’s altar.

No, jo tampoc t’espere

Of course, the amount of Vatican flags outnumbers us greatly, in a ratio of at least 1:100, but anyway. There are so many Vatican flags that this looks more like St. Peter’s Square. Others have taken the opportunity to exhibit Spanish flags all over the place, something that probably had not happened in València since the most obscure years of Franquism. Oh well, this is València.

One piece of good news: due the chaos starting in just two hours, we’re allowed to leave offices early today, so we can actually get back home. As soon as I get home and have lunch, I’ll flee away to the mountains, like a maqui until the madness is over. The 1.5 million pilgrims can have my holy city. Have a nice time, Ratzinger!

Metro crash in València

Tue, 04 Jul 2006 09:52:00 +0000

As most of you know already, there was a horrible accident in the Línia 1 of the Metrovalencia underway system of València, where I live. The death toll is, as of this writing, 41, and several more people are in critical condition in the hospitals.

Thanks to the many people who mailed, texted and msgd me on IRC to find out about my status. I am ok, as are my closest relatives and friends.

The causes for the accident are not clear yet, but officials say the southbound train, one of the oldest in the system and in service for 20 years, derailed due to an excess of speed in one of the bends of the tunnel, next to the Jesús station, after one of the iron wheels broke. The crash must have been very violent, as the number of dead has always been quite higher than the injured.

With these numbers, in a not so big city as València, you’re sure to learn about the luck of people you know. In my case, one of my best friends Sabrina escaped the accident thanks to her stubborness. She had to go to the Hospital Peset a few minutes before the time of the crash, and although her two workmates were taking the Metro, she decided to cycle alone, avoiding taking the deadly train. Her two workmates are, luckily, only injured; one of them was being shown on the very early TV foootage, as she was carried on a stretcher to an ambulance. The only information I have is that one arrived in the hospital unconscious, the other needed leg surgery due to the wounds. I think they weren’t among the very grave.

TV stations have been missinforming about the status of the Metro system in València. The reality is that the Line 1 has been in service for 20 years, and I’ve been a user for at least 17, as it’s the only one which connects Godella, where my father lives, and València. I’ve seen the infrastructure go from brand new to it’s current despicable state. There are trains which are as old as the line itself, and others which are even older, as they were in use in an older, now taken over by Metrovalencia, train service which connected several towns with the North and South of the city. For more than a decade, the effort to modernise Line 1 have been inexistant, other than prettifying the old trains to make them look more like the new models in lines 3 and 5.

The railroad Unions of Metrovalencia have been denouncing the state of the infrastructure for several years, and the local government had finally announced a massive replacement of trains for later this year. Just a bit too late. I’m getting ready for the official reports making the train driver the only responsible, though. Valencians are getting used to this kind of deluding.

The needed investments for other “equally important” matters in this city, like the America’s Cup or the imminent visit of Pope Ratzinger next weekend have not been delayed for years, though.

28

Mon, 15 May 2006 18:34:00 +0000

It’s this time of the year again.

It’s a bit disappointing that I’m not going to celebrate my birthday having lots of fun somewhere in Mexico, but things tend to suck every now and then.

Still, I’ve had quite a good time this last weekend, meeting lots of friends at the Fira Alternativa de València, where I got a few old CDs I hadn’t seen around in a while, and a pair of thingies to decorate the house.

On Saturday I even went flying with my uncle on a small 4-seat airplane over València and the south. The Albufera looks fantastic in Spring from up there, even if the sky wasn’t too clear. Too bad the America’s Cup idiots were out on the sea and the air route we wanted to take along the Valencian coast was closed to low traffic, I guess because there were helicopters filming the stuff. Another reason to hate all this America’s Cup business.

Today, my step-sister also gave birth to a child, with whom I now share my birthday. Fun :)

75 years of the Spanish dream

Fri, 14 Apr 2006 12:36:00 +0000

Recently Spain remembered the 65th anniversary of our tragic Civil War, an episode which broke the state in two halves which still today haven’t been glued together at all.

The origin of that nightmare is the dream of many Spanish people of the early 20th Century. In the morning of the 14th of April, 1931, the Second Spanish Republic was proclaimed in Madrid, after two days before, a majority of republican and leftist parties won the local elections; many people celebrated throughout the Spanish territory, and the tricolour flag was shown in many town hall buildings. With the king in exile after these quick happenings, Spain was again a Republic, as decided by the election results.

The Republic brought many social measures to Spain: women suffrage, eight-hour day and many other labour related improvements. The nobility titles were abolished, and those properties were confiscated by the government. And this was just the provisional government. All of this is regarded like a big social and cultural revolution, which was just starting.

Not everyone was happy about this, of course. The newly approved Constitution of December 9 gave the government power to confiscate many of the Church’s properties, and limit their great power in political matters. Soon, the episcopacy came with a strategy to defeat the Republic in any possible way. The Royalists were also not happy. There were a series of revolts in the South, and an attempt of coup d’etat by General Sanjurjo. These attacks were repealed; the Republic was still strong.

In 1933, the Anarchists started to be seriously unhappy about the moderate path the government was leading and started striking, which led to violent repression by the Government. The General elections of November brought a victory of the right and extreme-right, and many social and anti-church measures were repealed. Riots and strikes spread throughout the territory.

The Martial Law proclaimed by the right wing government resulted in thousands beings imprisoned. Things went even worse when three ministers of the fascist CEDA entered the Republican Government. A big worker uprise started the 1st of October in Asturies, and Catalunya proclaimed the Catalan Republic.

The revolts were supressed by General Franco, who would be well known in the world just a few years later. Thousands were killed and injuried during the few weeks of revolt, and the Socialist Party was dissolved, leaving the Spanish Courts with barely no left representation.

The next years saw a very unstable government from the right due to internal disputes within the parties that formed it. New elections were called in 1936, and the left united under the Popular Front, which won by a slight margin; Manuel Azaña was the new president. The right, the church and the army continued to undermine the Republic in any possible way. In an attempt to make the military heads more loyal to the established government, the fascist Falange Española was dissolved.

The 2nd Spanish Republic received a massive blow on the 17th of July, 1936 when Franco and other generals attempted a new coup d’etat in the Northern African territories. The Republic started to die as people started fighting the coup back, and the Spanish Civil War started throughout the territory. With the aid of Fascist Germany and Italy, Franco managed to seize control of more and more areas of Spain during the nearly three years of war, and the Government of the Republic had to move a number of times, to València and Barcelona. In January 1939, most of Spain was in Franco’s hands, and Catalunya soon fell. Two months later, the fascist troops entered Madrid, and hours later, València surrended.

Still today, people talk about “dos Españas”, the victorious and the defeated. Still today, the is much difficulty in having official recognition for the thousands who died while defending what a majority of people had voted for in a democratic way. Still today, one of the major political parties in Spain refuses to acknowledge what the forty years of Franco meant for the disidents, for the exiled, and for the dead. They are the legacy of Franco.

Today Spain celebrates the 75th anniversary of our Second Republic, with many events in many cities, which will be ongoing for a few weeks. Izquierda Republicana has a good list of events.

Buying a computer mouse

Sat, 04 Mar 2006 23:47:00 +0000

I’ve had the same mouse for probably 5 years, and I’m very happy with the result. Unfortunately, the batteries don’t make good contact with the pins anymore and sometimes it takes ten minutes of delicate work to get it going again.

So today, I went to buy a mouse, and surprise, surprise, I had forgotten how much it sucks to be a left-handed when purchasing certain objects.

At the computer store, there were about 25 different mouse models, most of them featuring extra buttons, ergononic shape and other cool stuff. I was ready to buy something for even more than 20€ if it was worth it, but due to the non-simmetrical shape of most of them, again I could only go for the cheapest models.

I took a Creative optical mouse, and downgraded from a cordless mouse with 5 buttons + a wheel to a plain simple 3-button + wheel. At least it’s USB… all the low end mice are still PS2.

When I was looking for a laptop, one of the requirements was that the touchpad wasn’t slightly displaced to the left. So right-handed-ish…

I know there are shops with stuff for left-handed. Once, my mother bought me a pair of nail scissors designed for left-handed people. All that kind of stuff is generally very expensive and anecdotic, though. I wonder if we’ll ever see laws that will force manufacturers to provide inverted items on demand. I want one of those cool mice.

He's Welcome in Pakistan

Wed, 01 Mar 2006 17:12:00 +0000

I would have thought that three years after the start of the war, Iraq would be yet another forgotten war, as it tends to happen when murder, bombings, famine and corruption become the routine in some country or area.

It’s been nearly three years since the holy coalition made up of United States and the UK, with a selected group of allies which included the Spain of our beloved Aznar, invaded the country to save the poor iraqi people from the fierce Sadam. After a few months of hard fight against the bloody dictator, Iraq would finally be able to live in peace and Democracy, and the world would understand the goodness behind the reasoning that made the superpowers start the second war in Iraq, against the opinion of the UN security council and an overwhelming majority of the people in the planet.

Today, after years of bloodbaths in different parts of Iraq, we’re witnessing the start of a civil war. I hope the mass media stop talking about “the terrorists” now, because what’s been going on for the last week is random people against random people. It makes me sick to think how bad the near future looks in Iraq.

All of this happened in the name of freedom, or so they said. And then, it was in the name of the “War on Terror”, because Iraq was infested with terrorists (they never told us how they planned to stop that from happening). In the meanwhile, little they talk about the most wanted man on earth, uncle Osama.

Today’s edition of EL PAIS includes a translation of an article by Ahmed Rashid in The Washington Post’s edition of February 26, apropos of George Bush’s visit to Pakistan and Afghanistan this week. He’s Welcome In Pakistan is surely worth a read; I’m sure Miguel will enjoy.

Network troubles get worse

Fri, 21 Oct 2005 21:11:00 +0000

I hope to be back to normal in a week or so.

Right. A week later, my connectivity issues have gotten so much worse…

Yesterday, I was trying to do some of my neglected Debian work at my mother’s house (namedly, updating some packages for GNOME 2.12.1), when the ADSL modem lost its link and didn’t come up again. As it was a bit late, I just cursed the nth incident with Wanadoo and left until the next day.

Today, when I go back there, my sister asks if I can have a look, because there’s no Internet. I suspect that the Wanadoo people have finally freed us and have cancelled our contract as we asked for two weeks ago. I phone and they confirm this is it. I then ask, innocently, if I am free to sign up with any other telco. They say I now need to wait, without any internet service, until the telephone line is freed so any other company can take care of it. That will happen in thirty or fourty days. WTF! I’m sure this can be reported somewhere, it’s totally unacceptable.

I’ve had to come to my father’s house, out of the city, to do the most urgent pending tasks, and it’ll be a pain to do this throughout the week. The good news is that today I got a call from Telefonica telling me that my modem should arrive at home on Monday, and some other day my own DSL link will start working. Hopefully that’ll happen even before I leave to my American adventure. I am sure The Acetarium will be ready for my arrival.

If you’re waiting for some upload from me, please have a bit of patience because my current situation is making it quite difficult.

Moving

Sat, 15 Oct 2005 15:55:00 +0000

For the last two weeks I’ve been in the painful process of moving to a new flat.

Actually, it’s not so new, as it was where we lived when I was born and until I was 4 or so. We then moved to the Plaça d’Hondures further down Blasco Ibáñez, although the avenue didn’t get that far down to the beach. In its place, there was a huge unpaved area full of soil and puddles.

My grandparents had been living there for a few years when they finally came from Sitges to live here, but after my grandmother died, my grandfather decided he didn’t want to be in that house anymore, and moved to Godella with my father. Some months later, we’ve decided that instead of having it closed and unused, I can move in and save some money, while at the same time I start fixing some of the quirks this house has.

The house is big, is in the 5th floor and has tons of sunlight. For me, the change has been fantastic, having swapped a tiny room in the old flat with a quite big room and a double bed. I can even say that I have too much wardrobe space. There isn’t much noise during nights. Living on a 1st floor just above the darkest rock/metal club in the city didn’t help…

I feared that living where my grandmother died would make me feel sad, but happily it’s all the contrary. When I come in, the smell of the house reminds me of her. When I go into the living room, the first thing I see is her empty armchair, but I easily get flashbacks of her sitting there, getting surprised about my arrival.

Kiko has come to live here too for now, and for now we’re doing quite well. He’s helping me with some cleanups and shopping, but there’s a lot to do. I’ll have to call my sister to change the light switches and plugs, because they are either broken, too small, or use an ancient standard for plugs which no device uses anymore.

All of this has sucked all my free time lately. We still have no DSL, and only got our new telephone line yesterday (although the old one still worked, too bad we didn’t take advantage of that “flat rate” :) Having no Internet access makes me totally uncapable of doing any Debian work at all, more when my main development box is not online anywhere else. I’ve tried hooking up to the many wireless accesspoints that are all around the house, but they are either too weak, encrypted or just don’t work. I only managed to use one of them reliably one night, but had to sit outside in the terrace. I’m glad we still have Spring-like temperatures in Spain, or I would have frozen.

I hope to be back to normal in a week or so.

New Orlean's Mayor about the relief efforts

Fri, 02 Sep 2005 18:42:00 +0000

It’s not only a bunch of students with hippy ideals thinking that the Feds could have done a bit more before and after Katrina’s hit. It seems the Mayor is a bit fed up of promises coming from DC. The lack of any kind of rescue operation for the people that are starving and dehidrating all around the city of New Orleans and the violent scenes taking place resulted in a quite powerful interview on a local radio. And yes, this comes from CNN.

A small quote from the transcript:

Ray Nagin: I have no idea what they’re doing.

Katrina and flood control

Thu, 01 Sep 2005 18:54:00 +0000

Emperor Palpatine says I’m silly because I blame dubya for a massive hurricane basically destroying a major US city. Well, no, and don’t put words in my mouth, thanks.

My point is not only that if all you can do is sign a few cheques, at least have the respect for the victims and show up on TV having fun a few hours later of reporting the most destructive natural disaster in your country. Appearing to care a bit about what’s going on seems like a good idea, when you’re POTUS.

Besides the appearances, there’s other stuff you can do before the hurricane hits. For example, you can try not to divert flood-control funds to your little adventure in the Middle East. It’s sad to learn that most of the money earmarked to the Southeast Louisiana Urban Flood Control Project (SELA) suddenly got diverted to Iraq when things started to go too wrong around the Persian Gulf.

The ongoing repairs to levees and other flood control measures in the area were not finished when they should have, and now the nice city of New Orleans is a deadly lake. I’m not saying levees and dams are the ultimate solution but they surely would have helped in this case, as the tsunami alert systems in the Pacific help when they need to.

But I guess Jaldhar thinks all the war stuff was really necessary, and the money was worth it. Probably what the American voter really cares about, according to him. I have this utopia in my head, it could have been used for other matters, like fixing some of the social problems in the US that make your urgent rescue operations a problem because with the amount of guns out of control in the US, your helicopters get shot. Or helping getting rid of famine, plagues and epidemies in those spots of the world where the poverty situation only generates what you call “terrorism”. Or simply helping your economy to be less polluting, so your country doesn’t contribute half of the emissions to the atmosphere that are causing global warming, and, for example, make hurricanes and typhoons like Katrina even more deadly.

New Orlean's shame

Thu, 01 Sep 2005 14:53:00 +0000

This is self-explanatory.

When I saw the images of what’s going on in New Orleans, the first thing I thought is that if the news had been talking about Asia or Africa, I would have very well believed those images were shot there. It’s obvious that when it comes to extreme natural disasters like Katrina, the first and third world are quite alike.

I hope all our community people in the area are ok, even if not thanks to dubya. Some day he’ll realise that saying “God bless you” isn’t enough.

Go on diet?

Fri, 26 Aug 2005 16:56:00 +0000

During our week around the Pyrenees, our meals consisted on dehydrated pasta, rice and soups, along with the little sandwich bread we could carry, and little more, really. Any extra gram sums up in your backpack and if you carry more than you need, you end up paying with exhaustion.

When I got back to Vàlencia I was really looking forward to eating real food, in a plate. I suspected that with that kind of food, I might have lost some weight, and wanted to find out how much. Unfortunately, I’ve been forgetting to do get on the scale everyday since, until today.

After 5 days of being well fed (and I have surely regained some of my normal weight), I remembered to weight myself before getting lunch and after going to the toilet. The result was alarming, even for me.

Now I’m so ready to be the Debian Skinny subproject leader!

Note this pic was taken after lunch, naked but holding the camera. On my first measurement, I got something like 53.2kg, way less than my usual 57-58kg range. I should probably get serious about gaining weight, even if that means mdz and moray discrown me in our unofficial “lighter DD” contest.

A haircut with unforeseen consequences

Wed, 10 Aug 2005 23:02:00 +0000

I got slightly fed up of my long hair and asked my mercyless sister to do something about it. The idea was to have it short everywhere except on the back, but now I think she went a bit too far. Fortunately this is something that will be fixable in just a few weeks.

This is the end of my fourth cycle of long-hair/short hair. Since 9 years ago I’ve constantly been growing and then cutting it very short every two years. I don’t think I’m going to do it immediately again though, as the idea is to let my sister experiment as much as she wants. The only condition is “Remember I work in a government office!”.

The real reason for deciding to cut it off (something I had been talking about since March or something) was that when it gets long and it falls at the natural rate, the hairs are so big that I get alarmed very easily because of the volume of the fallen hair when I just pass my hand around my head. As I was getting a bit obsessed about the idea of running out of hair, I just took the quick decision. My scalp also needed it after two years anyway.

No, I don’t know what that white spot is either

The bad news is when I told mako on IRC.

19:47 < jordi> I got rid of it all
19:47 < mako> no way
19:47 < jordi> yeah man
19:47 < mako> NO WAY
19:47 < mako> dude, you are vega no more

Duh! I forgot we hadn’t done our Vega vs. Jordi comparison. Since our meeting in Sydney, mako has been insisting that Vega, the Street Fighter character, is exactly the same as me. Vega is Spanish, blonde, has long hair and is a bull fighter who climbs to weird places. EXACT MATCH! Even for the bullfighting bit!

Vega or Jordi? Vega or Jordi? Vega or Jordi?

Mako and I tried our best to get a picture of me with a flower or something that would make me look like Vega during one of his deadly fights, but we didn’t find any in Sydney, and Helsinki’s nude attractions made us forget about it. Now it’s too late. I wish I could have my hair back.

Thu, 07 Jul 2005 14:31:00 +0000

Finally gone

Wed, 29 Jun 2005 17:04:00 +0000

A few hours ago my mother told me my grandfather wouldn’t last much more, and it seems a few minutes later, his heart finally ceased beating. The news hasn’t had a big impact on me as he had been in coma for 14 days already, and even resisted more than we expected.

During the many visits to hospital since he had this fatal stroke, I’ve had time to think what are the strongest memories from him that I retain. There are two main memories from childhood.

One is when he would place us on his lap, with our backs facing him, and would sing “Digudín, digudán”, while he pressed his sharp fingers all over our back, and finally would ask “¿Cuantos dedos hay encima?”. That game is probably one of the things that has made me and my cousins laugh more in our lives. Besides, we rarely managed to answer correctly, so he would start again until we did.

The second wasn’t so funny. Once, Marta, Borja and I were travelling with our grandparents from our small town Vall de Almonacid to Castelló. Bored and innocent as we were (I don’t think we’d be more than 7 or 8 years old at the time), we started to sing “Franco, Franco, que tiene el culo blanco, la pilila azul, qué tío más gandul!”, and we only needed two repetitions to get our grandfather yelling at us to shut up. We were totally frozen, and didn’t understand what was going on. I have a very clear memory of what my grandmother told us to explain his anger, to the point I even remember her tone as she said this. “No canteis eso porque el abuelo quería mucho a Franco”. We tried to argue that we learned the song from him, and for some reason the three of us firmly believed this, but it was totally impossible. The rest of the trip went on in total silence. How could we know the abuelo loved Franco, after all. Actually, who the heck was Franco?

So this was my biggest barrier when interacting with him: our big political differences. He was very conservative and had very strong catholic beliefs. When he had the first stroke, more than a year ago, I went to take care of him and decided it was my opportunity to get some first hand stories of how the Spanish Civil War went in Vall.

He was in the wrong side of the war, as many others who happened to fight for the contender that totally was against their beliefs. Most of the East coast was controlled by the Republic, and Vall was near one of the battle fronts. He never fought in front, by pure luck: he was too young, 14, when the war started, but the Aragonese front was still active in 1939, so he kept getting closer and closer to get enlisted. Just when he was next on the list, the Republic gave up and Franco declared his victory, even if that front never got defeated.

During the war, he was in charge of giving the military their ration of food and tobacco, while he helped digging under houses and streets to build refuges for the population. Every now and then, the sirens would go off, and people would get into the nearest shelter. If they were too far to get there in time, they would go under the stairs of their house or a similar place.

One day, my grandfather was carrying some sand from a refuge to the road, when the sirens went off, and very soon after, the frightening sound of the National airplanes could be heard approaching the town. He hid with others under the bridge that crossed over “El Caño”, and waited for the bombers to go away. The sound of one of them got very close, and suddenly he felt how the bridge shaked above him. They went out and saw what happened: there was a huge bomb in a big crater in the middle of the road, just above the bridge. It didn’t explode, and thanks to that I’m writing this today.

This was the last day, and maybe the only one, I had a good time speaking to him. He told me about lots of other stories about the war, and when I asked him about what happened to the church, etc., he mostly said the Republicans did what they had to do. But of course, things weren’t so dramatic in my village, and even if his family kept in secret many of the valuable items of the church hiding in their house, when it was discovered, there was no repression against them, and actually most of the goods were kept until after the war.

Before his stroke I hadn’t visited him for over 5 weeks, and had planned going to Castelló the following Sunday. I can’t avoid feeling a bit guilty that I let so much time without visiting, more when I planned sitting again with him after lunch to see if I could learn a bit more about the War. I also wanted to tell him that every now and then, my grandmother comes to mind, which was something that he sometimes asked us about. I was four days late, unfortunately.