Thursday 21 November 2013



POSITIVE -THINKING

" Get going. Move forward. Aim high. Plan a takeoff. Don't just sit on the runway and hope someone will come along and push the airplane. It simply won't happen. Change your attitude and gain some altitude. Believe me, you'll love it up here".
  Donald Trump.

Friday 15 November 2013

     James Mercer Langston Hughes (February 1, 1902 - May 22, 1967) was an American poet, social activist, novelist, playwright, translator and columnist. He was one of the earliest innovators of the, then, new literary art form called Jazz Poetry. Hughes is best known as a leader of the Harlem Renaissance. He famously wrote about the period when  "the negro was in vogue" , which was  later paraphrased as "when Harlem was in vogue".

     When I watched Robert Kennedy's speech and saw how much he wished a reconciliation between the races and how he appealed to blacks in such a difficult moment of American history, I immediately thought about this black American poet. This is one of his poems and I'd like you to read it. In my opinion it is so pure and simple that manages to express beautifully how intolerance can hurt honest human beings...

I, TOO

I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When the company comes.
But, I laugh.
An'eat well.
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll sit at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me:
"Eat in the kitchen"
Then,
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed.

I, too, am America.

Wednesday 6 November 2013

The wedding

     OVERTURE

     The Wedding March by Mendelsohn was filling the air in the cathedral, spiraling among the old wooden pews and suggesting a colour tide of headdresses and hats which moved in excitement in view of the impressive image of the bride. She advanced slowly, taking the arm of her proud best man. In the meanwhile, an impatient, broad shouldered groom was waiting for her, inexplicably with his back turned. The bride's dress long train was trailing along the aisle old marble tiles.
     It was a high society wedding day. The aristocratic father was going along the central nave leading her daughter to the high altar. The altar piece was extremely beautiful, profusely decorated by ornate detail. Suspended from the dome, several pouncing angels complemented a magnificent baroque sorrow Christ who presided the holly place.
     Suddenly, the groom turned over, smiling at his fiancĂ©e in ecstasy. Then, my head became a closed, hermetic auditorium where the only prevailing sound was the echo of the Mendelsohn's Wedding March. My brain hurt, my soul broke, my heart ripped in a total confusion, a puffy cloud of meaningless questions, a huge maze of mysteries.
     About to collapse, I clutched my mother's hand. Stunned, she could not understand that incongrous situation. My nostrils were filled with the sickly-sweet scent of white lilies and incense. I started to whisper..."That can't be!" "That's impossible!".
     The priest was preaching on the Proverbs 31:10 " A wife of noble character, who can find? She is worth far more than rubies", he said. A lady in front of me was wearing a pair of valuable red rubies earrings. "Proverbs 31:10, Proverbs 31:10", I whispered untiringly.
     My mother was perceiving my trembling but could not understand what was happening.

INTERMEZZO

     Two weeks before, at the end of April, I had been talking to my fiancĂ©. Overwhelmed by our future wedding, I felt anxious about my wedding dress.
" At the beginning of May there will be a fabulous fairytale wedding in the cathedral. Why don't you go and inspire yourself on her gown? As there will be thousands of guests nobody will notice that you are not one of them", suggested my future husband.

FINALE

     Pachebel's Canon in D had been the melody chosen to accompany the couple after the ceremony. Slowly, they were covering, arm in arm, the distance that separated them from the way out. No sooner had the groom stepped close to me, than I took off one of my stiletto heel shoes and struck him wildly on the head.
     Inert, he still had time to glance at me, startled by my mad gaze, and while his empty look vanished, he collapsed in a heap.

Tuesday 5 November 2013

More about travellers and tourists

     "El Faro" is a weekly newspaper that now just exists as a digital publication. However, for many years was a reference for people who lived in Motril and its district. Its first edition was in 1929 and most of the news was based on local happenings, being the social events the most popular at the time. 
     Weddings, obituaries, engagements and light pieces of information were the favourite among the citizens who, on the other hand, couldn't expect much more due to the inflexible censure. Just a few of them had access to the "global" world that we currently know. Thus, a trip was quite an affair that this newspaper
exploited to entertain its readers (needless to say that most of them were subscribed to it).
    After the Spanish Civil War, everybody was trying to come back to a standard life. "El Faro" also managed to find happy news. A young lady, from a worthy family, went to Madrid to visit the capital city and also to increase her cultural background. A whole article was devoted to explain the trip:

    " The charming lady X, elder daughter of the family X ,is travelling to the capital city of our country, we hope she will have a nice stay,etc...",

     When she came back, everybody was interested in knowing about her stay. Somebody asked her,"And the Escorial?" and she said reluctanctly..." Well, an Escorial as every other Escorial".