Three southerners of three little-differing generations in e

Transcripción

Dear Ioannis:
We have started the period of decompression in preparation for our return to New Mexico
……
Love to Maria and you from your tired but not yet defeated brother Hernán.
Facing water shortages, Indian farmers dig in
·
Transcript
Thanks for your briefing. Have two nice trips (both to decompression place and back)/Your Greek brother
A man can be destroyed but not defeated
Hemingway in “the old man and the sea”
Happy you were not destroyed either
Dears Ioannis and Maria:
We are leaving Nicaragua tomorrow morning and it’s with a heavy heart that I have to report to
you our more painful news….Your brother as always/ Hernán
What shocking news!! …………….Who would imagine what fate had in store for him!
We are back in New Mexico. Sorry if I confused you....
He is alive, but we appreciate your condolences the same. I will be writing more soon.
Hernán sorry about the confusion. It was all my fault. I was so shocked that I didn't know what I was
reading.
PS: Hernán, regarding the questions you have asked me many times, the following article is maybe the
best way to tell you in a nutshell the analysis of what is the case here but maybe it helps illuminate the
situation in your country too and also add to many of the insights you have of counterrevolution all over
the world
The Greek Catastrophe: Three Generations of Greek Workers By James Petras
http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article34170.htm
(PS: In the meantime it’s been translated like “La catastrophe griega en tres generacions de
trabajadores, Petras” Maybe some friends back home would like it like to google for that version)
And just in case I hadn’t sent it to you in Nicaragua or you hadn’t noticed it among the tribulations take a
look at what a friend had sent me recently from the same source
http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article33889.htm
Hernán, the red part comes from the robot translator .Can you send me the original or tell me if you agree
with the automatic translation and change it where it is wrong (when you find time of course, don't push
yourself!)
"Testimonio" de Hernán Espinoza:
Testamento: yo no soy un escritor, por lo que no hay pretensión de salir con un pedazo sabe leer y escribir,
es remotamente preestablecido en mi mente.Estos párrafos contienen principalmente mi opinión de lo que
está sucediendo en el mundo durante la primera década del siglo 21, en sí mismo una declaración
pretenciosa y obviamente estaría lleno de todos los prejuicios y errores de opiniones personales, entonces,
si eres un lector crítico que puede parar aquí. Pero, debe usted encontrará divertidas preguntas que
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podrían ser en el futuro, como: ¿Cómo es que personas didn\ ' t hacer algo acerca de dejar lo que estaba
sucediendo entonces? ¿No sabían lo que estaba sucediendo? ¿Si se tratara de gente como nosotros, lo que
les impidió actuar? Entonces usted desee continuar leyendo un poco más. Por cierto, esas preguntas don\ '
t pretende ser \"original\", inusual o de interés sólo por ahora, durante mis generaciones les ha pedido más
de una vez, el ejemplo que viene más fácil a la mente, con respecto a los alemanes bajo el régimen Nazi.
Tardó años en entender que no todos los alemanes estaban a favor de la exterminación de los judíos,
algunos eran de hecho indiferentes, algunos fueron intimidados, pero también hubo una resistencia
clandestina que luchó y actuado con mucho coraje, pero más de la mitad un siglo Alemania ha vivido la
culpa por la infamia de association\.a diferencia con lo que puede estar ocurriendo en el futuro es que
mientras que el Holocausto fue algo terrible, lo que ahora estamos asustados, es un nuevo período de
extinción de las especies, o al menos desaparición de más de ganancias de la civilización. Por
inexperiencia han comenzado con un descargo de responsabilidad y luego tratar de desalentar el lector
improbable pero posible de continuar leyendo, ¿por qué estoy escribiendo esto? Creo que es porque al
tener en mente un público muy especial, a quien quiero enviar un mensaje secreto pidiendo su perdón.
Con un gran grupo de ancianos de mi generación, tengo miedo no habrá mucho para disfrutar de la vida,
o incluso para vivir, para mis nietos, ahora de las edades que abarca desde los 7 meses a 7 años de edad.
Son 5 por ahora con uno más por venir si las cosas funcionan para mi hija, durante el próximo año. Estos
preciosos seres humanos, además de ser las criaturas más hermosas que he visto, son \"only special\"
porque son mi familia, pero en realidad, están en la misma situación con millones de otros niños, si no se
hace nada para corregir las tendencias actuales del cambio climático. Científico con extensos estudios han
demostrado una clara posibilidad de llegar a un punto de no retorno en el cambio climático en las
próximas décadas 4.
Por ley natural que tenemos que hacer espacio para las generaciones venideras y nadie puede saber qué
cosa se convertirá en el futuro, pero uno siempre puede intentar predecir cosas que vienen trabajando con
lo que ha sucedido en el pasado.
Colocar esas proposiciones juntos, uno podría, con gran certeza, preocuparse que la vida, o por lo menos
civilización como es conocido por nosotros hasta ahora, ya no puede ser el mismo para la próxima
generación.
Por entonces, se ha ido y no pueden dar cuenta de nuestra responsabilidad para tales cosas han sucedido.
Tengo 75 años y por valores estadísticos solos solo tengo 5 o 7 años más que ir, por lo tanto esas
preocupaciones son cruciales para mí, porque sin duda me don\ ' t tienen una buena oportunidad para ver
si los cambios necesarios para detener las catástrofes es la predicción de la ciencia, de hecho tienen lugar
o no, antes de irme. He llamado esta párrafos mi testamento en lugar de mi testimonio, tal vez
inconscientemente pensando en mi lengua materna y la proximidad de mi muerte (Testamento = última
voluntad)
Sentimientos que no tengo nada material digno para dejar a mi familia, por lo menos puedo dejar un
pedazo de mi mente, en estos pensamientos desorganizados. O mejor, tal vez, es sólo un intento de dar
testimonio (testimonio) de lo que está en evolución.
Lo que sigue no es otro de mis habituales renuncias o en cualquier manera excusa para mi falta de
conocimiento, la función de mundo y situación liderado actualmente por Estados Unidos, son tan
complejos que ninguna mente viviente, con quizás la excepción de unas pocas personas con dotación
extraordinaria de cerebros, mucho entrenamiento y gran integridad, puede comprenderlas, Noam
Chomsky y unos poetas excepcionales vienen a mi mente.
Qué diferencia hace que el más grande desastre humano hemos hecho, se entiende en su totalidad si es
posible? No creo, las pequeñas acciones de muchos - las hormigas trabajan mi hermana final en derecho
Paquita usado para referirse a, pensando en una de las proclamaciones de Sandino, lo que posiblemente
podría cambiar el curso de auto destructivas nos.
Menciono estas cosas sólo porque frente a la complejidad del problema, nosotros, los de la fila inferior de
la escala intelectual, invariablemente se abrumado y nuestra reacción es callar, sino estar en silencio es a
tolerar que equivale a ser cómplice y así ser culpables por asociación,…………………………...
Confieso mejor derecha lejos, que las funciones de mi brain\ pueden ser baja o inferior a las funciones del
cerebro, de la que creemos tiene mucha responsabilidad por la crisis in crescendo que estamos
presenciando, con el actual Presidente, el presidente del Gobierno de los Estados Unidos, Mr. George W
Bush…………………………...
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Hernán Espinoza’s “Testimonio”:
Testament: I am not a writer, so no pretension of coming out with a literate piece, is remotely preset in my
mind.These paragraphs contain mainly my opinion of what is happening in the world during the first
decade of the 21 century, in itself a pretentious statement, and obviously would be full of all the biases and
faults of personal opinions, then, if you are a critical reader you can stop here. But, should you find
yourself entertaining questions that could be asked in the future, as : How come people didn't do
something about stopping what was happening then? Did they not know what was happening? If they
were people like us, what prevented them from acting? Then you may like to continue reading a bit
longer. By the way, those questions don't pretend to be "original", unusual or of interest just for now,
during my generations they have been asked more than once, the example that comes easier to mind, is
with regard to the German people under the Nazi regime. It took years to understand that not all the
Germans were in favor of the extermination of the Jewish, some were indifferent indeed, some were
intimidated, but there was also an underground resistance which fought and acted with much courage, yet
for more than half a century Germany has lived the guilt by association's infamy. The difference with what
may be happening in the future is that while the holocaust was a terrible thing, what we are now afraid of,
is a new period of species extinction, or at least disappearance of more of civilization gains.
By inexperience I have started with a disclaimer, and then try to discourage the unlikely but possible
reader from continuing reading, so why I am writing this? I think it is because of having in mind a very
special audience, to whom I want to send a secret message begging their forgiveness.
With a large group of elders of my generation, I am afraid there will be not much for enjoying life, or
even to live with, for my grandchildren, now of ages spanning from 7 months to 7 years old.
They are 5 for now with one more to come if things work out for my daughter, during the next year.
These precious human beings, besides being the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen, are "only
special" because they are my family, but in fact, they are in the same predicament with millions of
other children, if nothing is done to correct the current trends of climate changes. Scientist with extensive
studies have demonstrated a clear possibility of reaching a point of no return in climate change in the next
4 decades.
By natural law we have to make room for the generations to come and no one can know how thing will
turn out in the future, yet one can always try to predict things to come by working with what has
happened in the past.
Placing those propositions together, one could, with significant certainty, worry that life, or at least
civilization as is known to us up to now, may no longer be the same for the next generation.
By then, we will be gone and in no position to give an account of our responsibility for such things to
have happened.
I am 75 years old and by statistical values alone I only have 5 or 7 more years to go, therefore such
worries are crucial for me, because certainly I don't have a good chance to see if the changes needed
to stop the catastrophic events science is predicting, are in fact taking place or not, before I go.
I have called this paragraphs my Testament instead of my Testimony, perhaps unconsciously thinking
in my native language and the proximity of me passing away (Testamento= Last Will)
Feelings that I have nothing material worthy to leave for my family, at least I can leave a piece of my
mind, in these disorganized thoughts. Or better perhaps, it is just an attempt of bearing witness
(testimony) of what is evolving.
What follows is not other of my usual disclaimers or in any way excuse for my lack of knowledge, the
world function and situation as led currently by the USA, are so complex that no living mind, with
perhaps the exception of a few persons with extraordinary brains endowment, much training and great
integrity, can comprehend them, Noam Chomsky and a few exceptional poets come to my mind.
What difference does it make that the biggest mess we human have made, is understood in its totality if
such is possible? Not much I think, the small actions of many -the ants’ work my late sister in law Paquita
used to refer to, thinking in one of Sandino proclamations, are what could possibly change the self
destructive course we are in for.
I mention these things only because confronted with the complexity of the problem, we, the ones in the
lower rank of the intellectual scale, invariably get overwhelmed and our reaction is to be silent, but to be
silent is to condone, which equals to be accomplice, and so to be guilty by association.
I should better confess right away, that my brain's functions may be as low or lower than the functions of
the brain, of who we believe bears a lot of responsibility for the crescendo crisis we are witnessing, I
should better confess right away, that my brain's functions may be as low or lower than the functions of the
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brain, of who we believe bears a lot of responsibility for the crescendo crisis we are witnessing, with the
current presidentof the United States, Mr George W Bush………………………….
Dear Ioannis:
Years of working the land without tangible results, crowned with …’ tragedy, makes me unsure of
what to do next. For now, we will try to …
How correctly you think of every possible factor! Good luck to … and to your plan to help him
The only thing that is clear regarding myself is that I need a long pause to rethink my work or
whatever my activities could be called.
Last year, because my computer’s program was slow and in order to have Internet service at our
place in Somoto, a nephew of mine erased clear the hard drive of my laptop to install a new
program; all my files went to the trashcan of course and I have now only what you may have
saved
I’ll send it to you very soon, maybe today
and the exchange of correspondence since then. I shall try to correct the Spanish of the robot
translation for my “Testimony”, which in essence has the correct meaning.
I don’t know when or if I will have the courage to do that correction,
Don’t worry, no time pressure, after all you found the essence correct, and we both only care about that
because as you know, since the disastrous environmental meeting at Copenhagen, I have lost
faith in the reality for the many movements to get together and present a viable answer to the
savage global capitalism. Makes no sense to be aware of, or even protest, the social ills, be
unable to do something about them and still ask future generations for forgiveness; besides, by
now large segments of people have written and/or read about the horrible things we have done
not only to nature in general but to every organized kind of life including the human society. OK,
what I am trying to say is that “My Testimony” is obsolete and unnecessary, my grandchildren as
well as all the youth in the next generation are living the consequences of our folly and would be
better judges for the ongoing disasters for which we find no solutions. As Chris Hedges say, we
can’t continue complacent with what is going on and pretend to want a real change, either we join
in a non violent revolt against all current institutions or we better shut up.
Love for your Maria and her family.
Hernán.
Hernán, what a fantastic coincidence! But let’s start from the bad news: We here, of course, had many
reasons to be equally disappointed or even more (actually more and more and more). If I tell you that
recently something appeared that changed my outlook overnight (and made a meaningful plan appear in ten
days, exactly ten) then you will be justified in thinking that I was just a manic depressive case going again
to his mania phase (if you didn’t think this you would not be the medical doctor and the calm rationalist
that you always are). I don’t mean of course that I met some group with a proposal that promises to
change a single thing overnight, I only met a chance to help in the formation of a group with a proposal
that has some idea with eventual results and not just an idea for an idea. The initial encounter was ten days
ago and the proposal actually was stated last night, five minutes before midnight. And the first letter I met
this morning was what I am reading from you right now. What timing! (And imagine: I was planning as
first thing in the morning to announce to you what I felt forming as a surprise…) Let me not say more,
and please you yourself do not aswer more before you leaf, just leaf not read, some material (of which the
long part you have already read long ago but of which the new part will explain to you exactly what I mean
and will help you understand if I am just being trivial or even crazy etc) When you leaf the pdf of the
attachment don’t answer yet, just tell me to send you the next ones (much shorter) and then, after reading
the proposal, answer me.
Kisses to Natalie and please tell her to forgive me if today I keep you a little longer than usual on the PC
and tell her she will be surprised…OK, let me not tell…So let’s start with the first pdf …
Dear Ioannis:
I am not sure if I understand your letter this time, but since you ask me not to hurry I am sure you
will give me more material to make yourself clearer.
Anyway, I have downloaded and watched the link “Gracias Grecia” and enjoyed the presentation.
I am sorry, I could not help myself in only correcting but editing and actualizing my "testimonio",
here is what I have done with the robot translation:
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Testimonio” de Hernán Espinoza:
No soy un escritor y aunque me empeño en escribir correctamente en mi idioma, no tengo la
pretensión de que esta termine siendo una “pieza literaria”. Los párrafos siguientes consisten
sobretodo, de mi opinión sobre lo que está sucediendo en el mundo durante la primera década
del siglo 21, siendo esta en sí misma una declaración pretensiosa y obviamente reflejaran los
prejuicios y errores naturales de las opiniones personales. Entonces, si es que eres un lector
altamente crítico ya puedes parar aquí. Por el contrario, si encuentras interesantes preguntas
que en el futuro podían formularse, tales como: ¿Porque es que personas honestas no hicieron
algo para evitar lo que estaba sucediendo? ¿Es que no sabían lo que estaba sucediendo? ¿Si
eran gente como nosotros, que les impidió actuar? Si es así, le invito a seguir leyendo. Por
cierto, esas preguntas no pretenden ser originales, inusuales o de interés solo ahora. Durante mi
generación se han hecho más de una vez. El ejemplo que viene a la mente más fácilmente es el
de los alemanes bajo el régimen Nazi. Ha tardado años, por lo menos a los “devotos” en las
naciones aliadas, aceptar que no todos los alemanes estaban a favor de la exterminación de los
judíos. Hubo quienes participaron activamente, otros fueron indiferentes, muchos estuvieron
intimidados, pero también hubo una resistencia clandestina que actuó y lucho con mucho coraje.
Sin embargo, por más de medio siglo, Alemania ha vivido la infamia de “culpa por asociación”. La
diferencia con lo que podría estar sucediendo en el futuro es que mientras que el Holocausto
Nazi fue algo terrible, lo que ahora nos está asustando, es un nuevo periodo de extinción de las
especies o al menos desaparición de las ganancias de una vida civilizada.
Por mi inexperiencia, he comenzado este testamento dando excusas y luego he tratado de
desalentar seguir leyendo a un lector improbable pero posible. Debe tenerse en cuenta que estoy
escribiendo para un público muy especial a quien quiero enviar un mensaje secreto pidiendo
perdón.
Como muchos ancianos de mi generación, tengo miedo de que no habrá mucho para disfrutar de
la vida o incluso para vivir para mis nietos, ahora de edades que abarcan desde meses hasta pre
adolescencia, siete en total. Estos preciosos seres humanos, además de ser las creaturas más
hermosas que he visto, son solo especiales por ser mi familia, pero en realidad están en la
misma situación amenazante con millones de otros niños, si es que no se hace nada para
corregir las tendencias actuales del cambio climático. Científicos con extensos estudios, han
demostrado una clara posibilidad de llegar en las próximas décadas, a un punto de donde no se
pueda regresar en el calentamiento del planeta. El re-equilibrio de los ciclos naturales es de
esperarse, pero pasaran siglos antes de que eso suceda y para entonces sería muy tarde para la
reorganización y en verdad para la vida tal como existen ahora.
Por ley natural tenemos que desaparecer haciendo espacio para nuevas generaciones y nadie
puede saber que sucederá en el futuro, pero se puede intentar predecir lo que vendrá basado en
lo sucedido en el pasado. Juntando estas proposiciones, uno podría con alguna certeza,
preocuparse por la vida o por lo menos por las sociedades tal como están organizada ahora,
pues ya no podrá ser lo mismo para generaciones venideras. Para entonces ya no podremos dar
cuenta en persona de nuestra responsabilidad en lo que ha ocurrido, he aquí la razón de este
“testamento”.
Tengo 79 años de edad y aunque saludable y todavía robusto, estadísticamente solo me quedan
pocos años de vida, por lo tanto estas preocupaciones son cruciales para mí. Cuando comencé
este testimonio/testamento, las consecuencias del calentamiento climático, se veían mas como
potenciales, pero en pocos años, se han convertido en realidades innegables representadas por
deshielos en lugares donde ha permanecido helado por siglos; temperaturas ambientales,
sequias e inundaciones sobrepasando récores establecidos por muchos años; incendios de
bosques y praderas realmente catastróficos y otros hechos que podrían estar más allá de la
observación directa de simples personas como yo. Todavía quedan individuos en posiciones de
poder que niegan lo que está pasando a vista y paciencia de todos pero un gran grupo de
activistas, quienes organizan demostraciones populares y actos de desobediencia civil en calles,
plazas y otros lugares públicos de muchas ciudades y con gran coraje resisten la represión de
los agentes del “orden”. Mis pensamientos y sentimientos al respecto, tengo que confesar, caen
en el lado pesimista. Sinceramente, viendo la actuación de los agentes del poder (gobiernos y
corporaciones sobretodo), me hace creer que el punto de donde ya no podemos regresar está
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sobrepasado o muy próximo a ser sobrepasado y los tales agentes no muestran todavía
intenciones de cambiar de manera de operar.
Quisiera que fuera de otro modo, de ser optimista, porque ya que la vida me está dando la
oportunidad de ser testigo presencial de las consecuencias del calentamiento ambiental, me
gustaría antes de morir presenciar los cambios necesarios para evitar la catástrofe que de otro
modo se nos viene. Si esos cambios no suceden, por lo menos he tenido la oportunidad de
confesar nuestra culpa y pedir perdón por ella, pues el que calla otorga y el que complace es
culpable.
He llamado estos párrafos mi testamento en lugar de mi testimonio, tal vez inconscientemente
pensando en mi lengua materna y mi última voluntad (Testamento= última voluntad).
Siendo que no tengo nada material digno de dejar a mi familia, por lo menos puedo dejar un
“trozo” de mi mente en estos pensamientos un tanto desorganizados. O mejor, tal vez, es solo un
intento de dar testimonio de lo que aun esta en evolución.
Lo que sigue no es otra de mis excusas por mi falta de conocimientos en cuanto a cómo funciona
el mundo liderado actualmente por el Gobierno y Corporaciones de los Estados Unidos. Creo
que tales conocimientos son tan complejos que ninguna mente viviente, con quizás la excepción
de unas pocas personas con dotación extraordinaria en sus cerebros, mucho entrenamiento y
gran integridad pueden comprenderlas, Noam Chomsky y unos pocos excepcionales poetas
viene a mi mente como ejemplos.
¿Qué diferencia hace que el más grande desastre humano que hemos hecho, se entienda en su
totalidad, de ser eso posible? No creo que eso sea necesario para darle respuesta. Más bien
creo que el trabajo de hormigas a que hacía mención mi ya desaparecida cuñada Paquita,
refiriéndose a una proclama de Sandino, podría cambiar el curso de auto-destrucción en que nos
encontramos.
Menciono esta cosas solo porque frente a la complejidad del problema, aquellos de nosotros en
la escala intelectual inferior, invariablemente nos sentimos abrumados y nuestra reacción
habitual es callar; pero si quedarse en silencio es tolerar y eso es equivalente a ser cómplice,
culpabilidad por asociación seria nuestro veredicto.
Habiendo mencionado de entrada que el funcionar de mi cerebro pueden considerarse bajas,
pero nunca tan bajas como las de la persona sobre las que deben recaer directamente todas las
responsabilidades de las crisis por la que está pasando nuestra sociedad, el expresidente del
Gobierno de los Estados Unidos, Mr. George W Bush…
(Let’s see the beginning of the pdf Hernán started reading...)
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Christina: Sir, this video was made by Spanish students and teachers. YOU MUST see
it: http://blogs.sch.gr/nikmichailidis/archives/2441
Christina FAN-TA-STIC. What you sent me deserves a treating in Lentzos’ café. If you want let’s go after
lunch there, tell Gabriella and the other kids of your project team. Tell me a time and I’ll be there, just
don’t make it on the interview of Mikis Theodorakis to Bilio Tsoukala that has been announced for today…
It’s a pity the showing of the interview was postponed (only for a week fortunately). It’s a pity that Lentzo’s
café (that had opened in 1965) closed (forever unfortunately)
Christina next day (a Monday; at a break between in the school yard): “…Wouldn’t it be better if we said to
all school kids to answer together?” “To all twenty of the project’s kids instead of your own project team,
yes. There is hope of coordination and of not postponing forever. To all, 250 and more, school’s kids
no………… So we don’t skip anybody nor impose our own ideas on anybody, let all who are interested
look up what we’re doing and add what they want. And we’re not stealing anyone’s glory or something
since you don’t restrict the idea of answering to your own team, nor do we restrict it to our own project
since we ask for guests from other projects all the time…OK, I’ll be posting what we end up, tell
everybody who didn’t check at some PC to send me their ideas too, maybe we forgot something, my wife
completed two big names that I added at the end*. And let’s all think two things: How we can find some
addresses where we can answer and if we know people who speak Spanish for help. The bell is ringing.
Have a nice class” “Have a nice class yourself too…”
Muchas gracias hermanitas y hermanitos, muchas gracias España.
Thank you for your civilization, thank you for your Guernica, thank you for your poetry, thank
you for your music, thank you for your dancing, thank you for your Cristina Hoyos and Laura de
Sol and for your Antonio Gades and Joaquín Cortés and ...and... and... thank you for your Paco de
Lucia, thank you for your Almodovar, thank you for...for ...for... thank you for your indignados,
thank you for your Joaquín Carbonnel and his Canción para Dimitris in the link
http://eagainst.com/articles/ωδή-στον-δημήτρη-χριστούλα-από-ισπανί/ and …and…and…
and… (PS by teachers:) thank you for your Antonio Machado and thank you for your Lorca and
for his Romancero Gitano
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtV6nb3tJ-4
Antonito El Camborio 1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2kHosFhOdU Antonito El Camborio 2
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SL-JKj92fYc
La morte por el amor
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZUbCytOiJ8
La Monja Gitana
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDCx8GS9HRo Pantermi (=?)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIcXymyI7uQ
Romance de la luna, luna
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDozcyqxnqU
Pikramenos (=?)
and
thank you for your Cervantes and for his gift to all humanity of all ages, Don Quixote, and our
two countries thank each other for El Greco for whom all humanity thanks both of us together .
Muchas gracias España, muchas gracias hermanitas y hermanitos…
*PS: And parents told me of Montserrat Caballé, Placido Domingo, Jose Carreras, and my wife
told me she couldn’t believe I forgot Saura, Arrabal, Dali and, my idol, Buñuel…
7
Terrific luck: A link for the same also came to me from a colleague at a school where a Spanish
colleague sent it…
From: Maria Santos [mailto:[email protected]]
Subject: THANK YOU GREECE
Dear colleagues,
I thought you might enjoy watching this video,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rc9RnwPXoJ0
Kind regards,
Maria Santos
Coordinadora BI / IB Coordinator
IES Alfonso X el Sabio, Murcia (Spain)
Dearest Maria, I am a high school teacher in Greece and my students and I have been trying for a
while to send our gratitude to the students and teachers of Amuprolag for their video to
Greece that you are helping to circulate. We send you our gratitude for this help too and we also
ask for your help in forwarding the present letter to them or sending us an electronic address (or
surface mail address) for them as we were not able to find any either in their video or by
googling with “Amuprolag” (or "Amurpolag"? Google showed that spelling too). Thank you for
everything. Below is our note to them. Your own answer and advice too will be valuable to us.
Yiannis Alevizos/[email protected]
(Note to reader: Parts below written in italics are parts repeated, so one can omit reading them)
Gratitud Griega to Amuprolag
Thank you for your civilization, thank you for your Guernica, thank you for your poetry, thank you for your
music, thank you for your dancing, thank you for your Cristina Hoyos and Laura de Sol and for your
Antonio Gades and Joaquín Cortés and ...and... and... thank you for your Paco de Lucia, thank you for
your Almodovar, thank you for...for ...for... thank you for your indignados, thank you for
your Joaquín Carbonnel and his Canción para Dimitris in the link http://eagainst.com/articles/ωδή-στονδημήτρη-χριστούλα-από-ισπανί/ and …and…and…and (PS by teachers:) thank you for your Antonio
Machado and thank you for your Lorca and for his Romancero Gitano
La Monja Gitana
Pikramenos (=?)
and thank you for your Cervantes and for his gift to all humanity of all ages, Don Quixote, and our two
countries thank each other for El Greco for whom all humanity thanks both of us together .
Dearest fellow students and colleagues we would appreciate if you sent us an address for closer
communication, we might end up with meaningful collaborations if we exchanged some ideas.
For us you can start with the address [email protected] (a teacher)
Dear John,
…It will be my pleasure to forward your mail to the teacher that directed the video.
Kind regards,
Maria Santos
Coordinadora BI / IB Coordinator
IES Alfonso X el Sabio, Murcia (Spain)
Thanks a million Maria!!!
8
PS:
Dearest Maria, I add to you, both for forwarding to my colleagues in Amuprolag and for your
own possible interest (and, possible, enjoyment) a link where I expressed part of the Greek
gratitude to another Spanish group, Joaquín Carbonnel and his friends, whom we, Greeks, saw in
the link http://eagainst.com/articles/ωδή-στον-δημήτρη-χριστούλα-από-ισπανί/ singing
Canción para Dimitris. The link is • Two letters about Canto General at Herodeion.pdf
and is part of the site www.MediterraneanBalconyNews.info * which, as a whole, I
think can help as one of the possible, already ongoing, starts of cultural collaborations
between our two, and other, Mediterranean countries, e.g. between groups of educators
in them. It was written in English to help the same goal with American and, more
generally, non-Greek, educators (and its Greek version was called
(MpalkoniAigaiouNews.info/) Its central core is its first pdf , titled
• Rehearsal of Greek School Event.pdf and is about “walking” along with students, or
young men more generally, all the way from the present indignado road to the still
valuable and effective inheritance and tradition of political poetry/music of the highest
rank represented by Canto General created by the artists/activists of such artistic genius
as Neruda and Theodorakis. Thank you for your valuable help/Yiannis
*If some links don’t get energized by clicking on them here , just enter them in google
with copy-paste
Dear Yiannis,
I sent both your messages to the Greek teacher that directed the video and he said I could forward you his
email address:
[email protected]
Thank you for the links.
Kind regards,
Great!!!!! I was wondering if I could ask you for that and you sent it even before I asked you!!!!
Deeply grateful once more Maria!/Yiannis
(Before going further let’s go to the beginning and to the end of the link
• Two letters about Canto General at Herodeion.pdf
mentioned above to Maria.
Of course the “grandpa” named “Hernán” in that pdf is
the same Hernán with whom the pdf we are now in started)
9
Acknowledgments:
...Both the author (Y.A.) and all of Johnny’s friends express their deepest thanks to their distant
brother and grandpa Hernán for his inspiring help and his deeply supportive encouragement…
10
Canción para Dimitris,
Joaquín Carbonell
http://eagainst.com/articles/ωδή-στον-δημήτρη-χριστούλα-από-ισπανί/
(the video does have subtitles in English, so we don’t translate the song here)
Refugio de palomas
Luz violeta de pincel
La mañana griega se sintió volar
Serena la cigarra
Se aturdió bajo el mantel
Que guardaba un desayuno tan vulgar
La higuera vio la fuente
Y brotó luz de la miel
Son las ocho y los dioses ya no están
Dimitris es agudo
Un anciano de papel
Una voz que clama al mundo sin gritar
A veces el destino nos empuja hacia el final
Rompiendo las señales de aparcar
Un tiro no es un ruido es como una catedral
Que se esfuma entre la niebla de cristal
Dimitris busca el árbol
Y Sintagma es el lugar
Al frente el Parlamento Nacional
Empuña una pistola
En un gesto tan vulgar
Que no llama la atención del personal
“No quiero su limosna
Hoy me rindo sin luchar
No buscaré comida en un corral”.
Los cielos se cerraron
Y la tierra fue a llorar
Era abril en cada punto cardinal
Un tiro no es un ruido es como una catedral
Que se esfuma entre la niebla de cristal
El portavoz del Fondo Monetario Gerry Rice
Confesó que estuvo a punto de llorar
11
http://24gr.blogspot.com/2012/07/blog-post_7875.html
http://www.zougla.gr/blog/article/572076
Gratitud Griega to Joaquín Carbonell
(sung in the melody of his own Canción…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0upnAY0D4I
I wish I were a poet
and send you one of my poems
but I’m not so I will have to borrow one
I wish I could write music
and dress what I’m saying right now
but I’m not so I’m humming back your own song
Joaquín, yesterday was a serene summer night, as sweet as most Greek summer nights.
Mikis Theodorakis, supported by friends and with a walking cane, walked from his house at the
feet of Acropolis to the open Roman theater Herodeion, two blocks over his house. The distance
of Herodeion both from Acropolis and from Mikis’ home, was so small that the audience of what
was to be played, felt as if invited for dinner under the summer sky in the veranda of a still living
ancient demigod. The performance of what he had named “Gospel of Freedom”, the famous
“Canto General” of the South American demigod Pablo Neruda, would be by the same
performers, Maria Farantouri and Petros Pandis, who would also perform in the presence of
Allende and Neruda, 39 years ago in Chile, with Mikis conducting, all of them, then, exiles from
Greece’s junta, but never performed, because some weeks before this première, took place the
coup against Allende by Pinochet’s junta. The age of the performers, and their appearance too,
among the young generation constituting the choir, added to the feeling that something mystical
and uncanny was going to take place…At the end Mikis approached the stage and the singers on
it bowed to kiss him. Among loud standing ovation he kissed them and also kissed the next
generation’s actor, Tasos Nousias, who was translating and transfusing from the demigods’
eternal and universal language to the present’s and the here’s language of our country too. When
Mikis turned to also face the audience, the standing ovation became so loud that it reminded an
apotheosis. Immortalization would be a poor word because this work was already immortal upon
birth. Apotheosis was also a poor word but only because of the simplicity and directness of
Mikis’ response.His smile broadened from ear to ear and made his face light up even more and he
said “You made me very happy. Thank you”. He waved, and, again, supported he left for home.
I wish I spoke your language
and have sung myself to Spain
in your language that is so close to my Greek
but we both speak rockers’ language
Lingua Franca of our days
so we still exchange what we borrow from those gods
...Our appeal to Hernán to translate the above to Spanish resulted from our need to make a tribute to a
beautiful language of beautiful souls who wrote such a beautiful song for as beautiful a Greek as Dimitris…
12
Gratitud Griega a Joaquín Carbonell:
Quisiera ser poeta y mandarles uno de mis poemas,
pero como no lo soy, entonces tendre que tomar prestado uno
Quisiera poder escribir música
y adornar lo que estoy diciendo ahora,
pero como no sé, entonces estoy tarareando su propia canción.
Joaquín, ayer una noche serena de verano, como la mayoria de las noches dulces del
verano Griegas, Mikis Theodorakis, ayudado por amigos y apoyado en su baston, caminó de su
casa al pie de la Acrópolis hasta Herodeion un teatro Romano al aire libre. Las distancias de la
Acrópolis y de la casa de Mikis al teatro son tan cortas que la audiencia se sentia como invitada a
cenar bajo ese cielo de verano, en el corredor de la casa del aun viviente demigod. La actuacion
de lo que él mismo a nombrado "Evangelio de Libertad", el famoso "Canto General" del tambien
semidios de la America del Sur, Pablo Neruda, estuvo a cargo de los actores Maria Farantouri y
Petros Pandi, quienes debieron cantar en Chile en presencia del Presidente Salvador Allende y el
poeta Pablo Neruda hace 39 años, mientras Mikis conduciria la orquesta. Todos ellos estaban
exiliados en esos entonces por La Junta de Gobierno de Grecia. La actuacion nunca se llevo a
cabo por el Golpe de Estado organizado por Augusto Pinochet y su Junta unas pocas semanas
antes del Premier. La edad de los actores y su presencia entre los jovenes del coro, le dieron al
acto un sentido místico inusual. Al final, Mikis se acerco al escenario y los cantantes le hicieron
reverencias y lo besaron en medio de estruendosos aplausos, asi mismo él también besó a
los actores de la nueva generación. Tasos Nousias, traducía y transfundió a los presentes, la
lengua eterna y universal de los semidioses y al Griego. Cuando Mikis se volteo hacia la
audiencia, los aplausos se hicieron apoteosicos. Inmortalización no seria un adjetivo correcto,
pues el trabajo de estos musico/poetas ya era inmortal al nacer. Apoteosis no es suficiente
tampoco por la simplicidad y sentido directo de la respuesta de Mikis: su sonrisa se abrio de oreja
a oreja y su cara se ilumino mucho cuando con toda sencillez dijo: "Me hacen felices, muchas
gracias". Saludó ajitando sus manos y de nuevo fué ayudado para regresar a su casa.
Quisiera hablar en Español
y poder cantar a España en su lengua
que se asemeja tanto al Griego.
Pero ya que ambos hablamos el lenguaje del Rock
Lengua Franca de hoy
Todavia podemos entre cambiar
Lo que tomemos prestado de esos dioses.
We also send all our Gratitud Griega to our friend Hernán Espinoza for this translation, one
more sample of his help and support during every single day of the three years of our friendship.
Before we go to the more detailed and specific letter we wrote to Hernán right after the night at
Herodeion, let’s see a few of the words and melodies we can borrow from those gods to dedicate
to the Indignados and Occupys everywhere in the world today too…
13
Vuela una montana marina, hacia las islas, una luna de aves que van hacia el Sur, sobre las islas fermentadas del Peru
Es un rio vivo de sombra, es un cometa de pequenos corazones innumerable que oscurecen el sol del mundo como un
astro de cola espesa palpitando hacia el archipelago…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WzY27oWPI-4
Vienen los pajaros
............
Vuela una montana marina
hacia las islas,
una luna de aves que van hacia el Sur,
sobre las islas fermentadas del Peru.
Es un rio vivo de sombra,
es un cometa de pequenos
corazones innumerables
que oscurecen el sol del mundo
como un astro de cola espesa
palpitando hacia el archipelago.
que oscurecen el sol del mundo
como un astro de cola espesa
palpitando hacia el archipelago.
A marine mountain flies
toward the islands
a moon of birds winging South
over the fermented islands of Peru
It’s a living river of shade,
it’s a comet of tiny
hearts countless in number
that eclipse the world’s sun
like a thick-tailed meteor
pulsing toward the archipelago.
that eclipse the world’s sun
like a thick-tailed meteor
pulsing toward the archipelago.
Y en el final del iracundo mar,
en la lluvia del oceano,
surgen las alas del albatros,
como dos sistemas de sal.
Todo era vuelo en nuestra tierra.
Todo era vuelo en nuestra tierra.
estableciendo en el silencio
como gotas de sangre y plumas
entre las rachas torrenciales,
los cardenales desangraban
con su espaciosa jerarquia
el orden de las soledades
el amanecer de Anahuac,
con su espaciosa jerarquia
el orden de las soledades
el amanecer de Anahuac,
And at the end of the enraged sea,
in the ocean rain
the wings of the albatros rise up
like two systems of salt.
All was flight in our land.
All was flight in our land.
establishing in the silence
like drops of blood and feathers
amid the torrential squalls
the cardinals bled
with their spacious hierarchy
the order of the wilds
the dawn of Anahuac,
with their spacious hierarchy
the order of the wilds
the dawn of Anahuac.
14
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWzZ8v2KWcc&feature=related
LA UNITED FRUIT CO.
When the trumpet blared, everything on earth was prepared and Jehova distributed the world
to Coca Cola Inc., Anaconda, Ford Motors and the other entities. United Fruit Inc. reserved for itself the
juiciest, the central seaboard of my country, America’s sweet waist. It rebaptized its lands the “Banana
Republics”, and upon the slumbering corpses, upon the restless heroes who conquered renown, freedom
and flags, it established the buffoons’ opera, it alienated self-destiny, gave as gifts Caesar’s crowns,
unsheathed envy, attracted the dictatorship of flies, fly Truhillo, fly Tahos, fly Garias, fly Martinez, fly
Ubico, flies soaked in humble blood and jam, drunk flies that drone over the common graves, circus flies,
clever flies versed in tyranny. Among the blood thirsty flies, the Fruit Co. disembarks, ravaging coffee and
fruits for its ships that make disappear like ghosts on serving trays, the treasures of our lands that are
submerged. Meanwhile in the sugary abysses of the seaports collapsed Indians, are buried in the mist of the
morning: a body rolls down, a thing without name, a fallen number, a bunch of lifeless fruit dumped in the
rubbish heap.
…como gotas de sangre y plumas
los cardenales desangraban
el amanecer de Anahuac…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hw-Sho4sxuQ&feature=relmfu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xjnlcs-3xDM&feature=related
The road is dark, and so is life, until again I meet you/come down your door and hold my hand to feel how
much I need you.
Make up your bedsheets now for two/for you and me, for me and you/hold me as I hold you right from start
to feel that love and life are back.
I took you in my arms, you took me in yours, we both were taken and given/I lost myself into your eyes
and into your fate I am driven.
Make up your bedsheets now for two/for you and me, for me and you/hold me as I hold you right from start
15
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJYbUb_NFEw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0upnAY0D4I
16
Hernán, the best way to describe to you feelings that consciously or unconsciously we all had last
night, until as I hope that whole event will be posted in youtube, is the following:
1) I will show you the one of the singers (the man) when he was young and singing it with
young Theodorakis the song “United fruit Co.” that you already know and have
commented then I’ll show you his photo as he is now (but his singing it will be postponed
until they post it on youtube)
2) I will show you the lady but although she is as old as he, she looks as almost equally old
as she was in middle age as in the links you had seen her. But when performing they
seem as equally young as when they were exiles 40 years ago.
3) I still not have a photo to show you Theodorakis with a cane and as very happy as he
said today in the news he was, but I will do the following: I will write you some links
with him in several ages to give you the family atmosphere he has with the people and
some of the links will also be following his presence in the Herodeion Amphitheater as
he grows older…
4) Then I will write you several links about Canto General that you of course already know
but it’s good to have them somewhere concentrated…
OK, we start:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWzZ8v2KWcc&feature=related
The way Petros Pandis looks now is here
Herodeion theater does not show clearly here but you will see it in videos in a while
Maria Farantouri in the “Algunas Bestias” but in Belgium
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDPi11XhcG8&feature=related
Theodorakis young in East Berlin
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xjnlcs-3xDM&feature=related
The song he is singing himself says the following lyrics (and the instrumental song he continues
in the same link is Zorbas)
The road is dark, and so is life, until again I meet you,
come down your door and hold my hand to feel how much I need you.
Make up your bedsheets now for two,
for you and me, for me and you,
hold me as I hold you right from start
I took you in my arms, you took me in yours, we both were taken and given,
I lost myself into your eyes and into your fate I am driven.
17
Make up your bedsheets now for two,
for you and me, for me and you,
hold me as I hold you right from start
Hernán although this is a reunion song for lovers I think it is also (at least now should be) a
union- for-the-first time song for people who postpone too much and also a solidarity song even
for people whose union is not erotic
Now Hernán hear the same two in Herodeion some years ago…
…………(OK
let’s go to the end to hear Hernán’s inimitable aswer)…………
PS of almost two months later, when Clint Eastwood made that show with the empty chair
representing Obama and Michael Moore answered as in ….google with e.g.
Michael Moore on Clint Eastwood’s Delusional Speech at the Republican National Convention
(by Michael Moore Aug 31, 2012 6:34 AM EDT
The Hollywood legend growling at an empty chair will live on in infamy as the moment when a crazy old man
hijacked a national party’s most important gathering to tell off the president.)
Hernán I hate to be repetitive but since I noticed they posted the finish of the night of Canto
General that you helped me with, when you translated for us that letter to Joaquín Carbonell, I
could not resist sending you that 3 minutes ending where Theodorakis does all the things you
were translating . I hope my letter finds all of you in health and happiness. THANK YOU
AGAIN FOR ALL YOUR HELP AND SUPPORT. Kisses to Natalie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhpIMVnb7FE
Part of Hernán’s answer:
…Thanks indeed, I have to say all of those grandpas are still very attractive and not as how Clint
Eastwood* shows at Tampa TX.
Here is something I was working in just now:
Dear Ioannis:
For whom is it that I write these thoughts? For you, for my soul or for no one?
……………………………………..
*I too have to add that both Hernán and myself are great admirers of American grandpas like
Lewis Mumford, Howard Zinn, Robert Byrd and Noam Chomsky and that the fact that, at least
for the time being, young-men-to-be-like-them do not show up as often as the above pass away
(knock wood for Chomsky who is still around and up) is not only a fact about Americans but also
about Greeks and about all Europeans too...
18
OK, where were we? Here:
Dear Yiannis,
I sent both your messages to the Greek teacher that directed the video and he said I
could forward you his email address:
[email protected]
Thank you for the links.
Kind regards,
Great!!!!! I was wondering if I could ask you for that and you sent it even before I asked you!!!!
Deeply grateful once more Maria!/Yiannis
Dearest Aristides, first of all congratulations for this most beautiful and most thoughtful and
generous joint creation of your school with your students and colleagues and, even “firster” that
that, thank you on behalf of both my school and, of course, my country. Now that, thanks to
Maria Santos, I have your e-address I am glad I have the opportunity to send you directly my two
notes (letter +PS) that Maria kindly forwarded to you for me:
(Note to reader: Parts below written in italics are parts repeated, so one can omit reading them)
Gratitud Griega to Amuprolag
Thank
you for your civilization, thank you for your Guernica, thank you for your poetry, thank you for your music,
thank you for your dancing, thank you for your Cristina Hoyos and Laura de Sol and for your Antonio
Gades and Joaquín Cortés and ...and... and... thank you for your Paco de Lucia, thank you for your
Almodovar, thank you for...for ...for... thank you for your indignados, thank you for
your Joaquín Carbonnel and his Canción para Dimitris in the link http://eagainst.com/articles/ωδή-στονδημήτρη-χριστούλα-από-ισπανί/ and …and…and…and (PS by teachers:) thank you for your Antonio
Machado and thank you for your Lorca and for his Romancero Gitano
La Monja Gitana
Pikramenos (=?)
and thank you for your Cervantes and for his gift to all humanity of all ages, Don Quixote, and our two
countries thank each other for El Greco for whom all humanity thanks both of us together .
Dearest fellow students and colleagues we would appreciate if you sent us an address for closer
communication, we might end up with meaningful collaborations if we exchanged some ideas. For us you
can start with the address [email protected] (a teacher)
PS:
Dearest Maria, I add to you, both for forwarding to my colleagues in Amuprolag and for your own
possible interest (and, possible, enjoyment) a link where I expressed part of the Greek gratitude to another
19
Spanish group, Joaquín Carbonnel and his friends, whom we, Greeks, saw in the link
http://eagainst.com/articles/ωδή-στον-δημήτρη-χριστούλα-από-ισπανί/ singing Canción para Dimitris.
The link is • Two letters about Canto General at Herodeion.pdf and is part of the site
www.MediterraneanBalconyNews.info * which, as a whole, I think can help as one of the possible,
already ongoing, starts of cultural collaborations between our two, and other, Mediterranean countries,
e.g. between groups of educators in them. It was written in English to help the same goal with American
and, more generally, non-Greek, educators (and its Greek version was called
(MpalkoniAigaiouNews.info/) Its central core is its first pdf , titled
• Rehearsal of Greek School Event.pdf and is about “walking” along with students, or young men more
generally, all the way from the present indignado road to the still valuable and effective inheritance and
tradition of political poetry/music of the highest rank represented by Canto General created by the
artists/activists of such artistic genius as Neruda and Theodorakis. Thank you for your valuable
help/Yiannis
Bye Aristides and I hope to hear from you. Many thanks to all of you again for all you
did for us/Your Greek colleague and friend Yiannis
From Arístides Mínguez Baños [email protected] :
My dear Ioannis, first of all I would like to excuse me for my bad English and for not speaking my loved
Greek. I only can speak Italian, but I promise you I will study Greek. My wife can speak a little of your idiom.
I have sent your lovely letter to my students and colleagues from my school Ingeniero de la Cierva and
AMUPROLAG (Teachers of Latin and Old Greek).
I only can say you: THANK YOU, THANKS, MY MOTHER GREECE.
Here you are an interview in Greek, where speaks my wifeUn fuerte abrazo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bri-1qlbg7w
Aristides!!! What a happy surprise!!! Coming back from school just a while ago and listening to the
message of your wife and you and of Murcia and Spain to Greeks and to Greece was like music to both my
wife and myself and I immediately sent it to the students of mine who have given me an e-mail address.
Please receive from all of us too a fuerte abrazo for the time being, and I’m sure that soon we will find
ways to break the language barriers and find a common idiom to exchange ideas on what inspires us both
to common actions.
With one more fuerte abrazo/Ioannis Alevizos
PS: I too am sorry that I do not speak Spanish which I consider a language so fantastic that I can listen for
hours when a tour-guide friend of mine, Lefteris, reads to me Lorca’s “Romancero Gitano” in the original
before we listen to its putting to music by Theodorakis. My efforts to learn it were restricted to learning by
heart the pieces of Canto General that have been put to music.
My dearest Ioannis:
It's impossible for me to say you how happy I feel with your message. And I am sorry,
very much, for not speaking English well. If you want, you can write us in Greek because my wife can speak
and read it.
I only can say to you and your family and your pupils: it's an honour for me to be your
friend.
I have spoken with my colleague, The English Teacher, who has the pupils who make
the video. If you want, I can do her address and your pupils can write "inter se". She is Nuria Carrasco
[email protected]
And if sometime you visit Murcia, I will go with you to Granada (275 kms from here),
where was born and died Federico García Lorca. Granada is one of the prettiest town in Spain.
Thanks a lot
Aristides, you’re a genius!!!! You solved our language barrier problem in one single move that contained a double
strike and all this you did in a matter of minutes if I can judge from when you received my e-mail and when you
20
answered it!!!!!! We four, you, your wife, Nuria, me, can most easily and directly collaborate on all our mutual
inspirations-to-soon-come, by just doing the following you suggested: I’ll be writing everything in both English and
Greek, I’ll be sending to you and Mrs Mínguez (Maria. Right? My wife’s name is Maria too) the Greek version and I’ll
be sending to Nuria the English version, you and (your) Maria will be writing to me in Greek and Nuria will be writing
to me in English, and you two will be speaking with Nuria in Spanish, so we all hear all the other three as if we were all
four present in the same room! Fantastic! So I am not only honored, as a Greek, to have met you three but also lucky;
and we Greeks are doubly honored since your first name is Greek. And, as Yiannis, I am triply honored since I
received such a warm welcome from a man like you. Thank you for your fantastic idea about Granada even if it might
take a long time to be realized. My mind too feels filling with such ideas in case you come to Greece. Please tell me if
you have Greek letters in your PC. No problem if you don’t, I’ll be writing my e-mails inside attachments of the pdf
type. Let’s make a trial here and now: I’ll translate the above, and also my letter to Nuria, in Greek and I’ll enter both
versions in a pdf and in a doc too. And I’ll send the trial letter to both your address and to Nuria’s. Tell me if it opens
OK (this letter is not finished, but I will continue it in the attachment (in two languages)…)
Dearest Nuria, Aristides sent me your address some hours ago and I was very happy to receive it: First of all happy for
being now able to congratulate and thank your pupils, you and your colleagues, for what your school did for Greece;
then happy for the possibility that we four, you, Aristides, Maria and me, can collaborate and think jointly on other
moves that we can make with our pupils and colleagues, whether in joint projects of our two countries or separately.
Before we continue let me include here the letter to Aristides and Maria I’ve just finished. Gratefully yours/Yiannis
Alevizos
Αριστείδη, είσαι μεγαλοφυία!!!! Έλυσες το πρόβλημά μας με το φράγμα γλώσσας σε μια μόνο κίνηση που περιείχε
δυο χτυπήματα και όλα αυτά τα έκανες μέσα σε λεπτά της ώρας αν κρίνω από το πότε έλαβες το e-mail μου και πότε
το απάντησες!!!!!! Εμείς οι τέσσερις, εσύ, η γυναίκα σου, η Νούρια, εγώ, μπορούμε πολύ εύκολα και άμεσα να
συνεργαστούμε σε όλες τις αμοιβαίες εμπνεύσεις που γρήγορα θα έρθουν, απλώς κάνοντας το ακόλουθο πράγμα που
εσύ πρότεινες: Εγώ θα τα γράφω όλα στα Αγγλικά και στα Ελληνικά, θα στέλνω σε εσένα και στην κυρία Mínguez
(Μαρία. Σωστά; Και την γυναίκα μου Μαρία την λένε) την ελληνική βερσιόν και θα στέλνω στην Νούρια (Νούρια ή
Νουρία;) την Αγγλική βερσιόν, εσύ και (η δικιά σου) η Μαρία θα μου γράφετε στα Ελληνικά και η Νούρια θα μου
γράφει στα Αγγλικά, και έτσι οι δυο θα μιλάτε με την Νούρια στα Ισπανικά, κι έτσι όλοι θα ακο΄με και τους άλλους
τρεις σαν να’μασταν και οι τέσσερις παρόντες στο ίδιο δωμάτιο! Φανταστικό! Άρα δεν είναι μόνο τιμή μου, σαν
Έλληνα, που συνάντησα εσάς τους τρεις αλλά είναι και τύχη μου. Και επίσης είναι διπλή μας τιμη, σαν Ελλήνων,
αφού το όνομά σου είναι Ελληνικό. Και , σαν Γιάννης, νιώθω τριπλή τιμή, γιατι έλαβα ένα τόσο ζεστό καλωσόρισμα
από άνθρωπο σαν και σένα. Σε ευχαριστώ επίσης, Αριστείδη, για την φανταστική σου ιδέα για την Γρανάδα ακόμα κι
αν πάρει πολύ χρόνο για να πραγματοποιηθεί. Και το δικό μου μυαλό επίσης γεμίζει με τέτοιες ιδέες για την
περίπτωση που εσείς θα έρθετε στην Ελλάδα. Πες μου σε παρακαλώ αν έχεις Ελληνικά γράμματα στο PC σου. Νο
πρόμπλεμ αν δεν έχεις, θα γράφω τα e-mails μου μέσα σε attachments τύπου pdf. Ας κάνουμε μια δοκιμή εδώ και
τώρα: Θα μεταφράσω στα Ελληνικά αυτά που είδαμε, και επίσης το γράμμα μου στην Νούρια, και θα βάλω και τις
δυο βερσιόν σε ένα pdf και σε ένα doc. Και θα στείλω το γράμμα/δοκιμή και στη διεύθυνση τη δικιά σας και στη
διεύθυνση της Νούρια. Πείτε μου αν ανοίγει ΟΚ (το γράμμα αυτό δεν τελείωσε αλλά θα συνεχίσω στο attachment (και
στις δυο γλώσσες)...)
Αγαπητότατη Νούρια, ο Αριστείδης μου έστειλε την διεύθυνσή σου πριν λίγες ώρες και χάρηκα πάρα πολύ που την
έλαβα: Πρώτα-πρώτα επειδή μπορώ τώρα να συγχαρώ και να ευχαριστήσω τους μαθητές σας, εσένα και τους
συναδέλφους σου, για αυτό που το σχολείο σας έκανε για την Ελλάδα. Μετά χάρηκα για την δυνατότητα του να
μπορούμε εμείς οι τέσσερις, εσύ, ο Αριστείδης, η Μαρία και εγώ, να συνεργαστούμε και μαζί να σκεφτούμε για άλλες
κινήσεις που μπορούμε να κάνουμε με τους μαθητές μας και τους συναδέλφους μας είτε σε κοινά πρότζεκτ των δυο
μας χωρών είτε σε χωριστά. Πριν συνεχίσω ας βάλω εδώ και το γράμμα στον Αριστείδη και στην Μαρία που μόλις
τελείωσα.
Με ευγνωμοσύνη/Γιάννης Αλεβίζος
Common PS: Μy next letter will begin from answering the fact that your second link was among olive trees. All other
things can very well wait for some days…
Κοινό ΥΓ: Το επόμενο γράμμα μου θα ξεκινάει με απάντηση στο γεγονός ότι το δεύτερο λινκ σας ήταν ανάμεσα σε
ελιές. Όλα τα άλλα μπορούν κάλλιστα να περιμένουν λίγες μέρες…
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Greetings from Spain:
This is Nuria Carrasco, the English teacher of some of the students
who starred the video Thanks Greece and a co-worker of the Greek
teacher Arítides from Ingeniero de la Cierva School.
First of all , none of the congratulations should be addressed to me ,
since I am just the English teacher of the students. Students did
everything with Arístides in the Greek lessons.
Some days ago I just talked to Arístides and offered myself to
establish some contacts with you in English as a means of
communication, since Arístides can not understand English properly. He
told me that you and your students are interested in setting up some
connections with our school, or our students.
I told my students and showed them your previous email in the
classroom, so some students are interested in sending your students
their email addresses and keep in contact among themselves.
As soon as I have the whole list of students who are interested in
having pen-friends with Greek students , I will send it to you.
This is my first contact with you and I will send you the emails of my
students next week , as far as I am concerned.
Thank you for your sweet words about our school.
Regards
Nuria Carrasco
Hello Nuria, thank you very much for answering so fully and so precisely. I , too, will help my students
with their English in case contacts between the two groups are established. During the weekend I'l make
some selections of material that might interest your school in general or your students especially. The
selections I have in mind may concern not just the students who are now in school but also students of last
year who graduated and left school but left behind something that might interest your students, or may
concern a school in an island in the Aegean where I was years ago but was a school that represented some
thing that both Spain and Greece, and all Mediterranean countries, share. It will be a brief selection,I don't
want to tire either you or your students, but it will show very clearly what collaborations, possibly soon or
possibly eventually, might arise if we two and Aristides and his wife and possiby other colleagues too,
think and talk about it. Thank you for your attention and your so prompt answer/Yiannis Alevizos
Nuria, I've just finished the preparation of one of three sets of selections. This one maybe is the best for
kids. It is about present indignados, both your own and ours, at least an idealized set of them that might
help and inspire "more pedagogically" the indignation movement around the word. I send it to Aristides too
although he told me about his lack of free time and his problems with English. After his travels, when he
tells me he has free time, I'll also send it to him in Greek. As it continues (with an idyll between Suzy and
Johnny)it does so in a way understandable to American teenage students too with a view to being picked
up for a sequel by eye witnesses of Occupy movements there (that I have not seen from a close distance. I
returned from US in 1982 and never went back) What I mean saying maybe we eventually collaborate is
that maybe there in Spain you have similar things about your own indignados and we can inspire each
other with the things we have not seen from a close distance in each other's country)Maybe I should not
send the other two selections as early as this weekend even if I prepare them so as not to trespass on your
free time and rhythm. The next one is called "Village, real, recently" and is about village magnificent
rhythms and is not theatrical but factual. What made me think of such a selection was the fact that Aristides
and Maria were speaking among olive trees in their second link.
……………………………………..
From Aristides
Queridos todos permitidme compartir con vosotros el nuevo homenaje que le hago a la madre
Grecia.
Un abrazo heleno
http://lacolumnata.es/cultura/el-antro-de-la-arpia-cultura/gracias-grecia#comment-3155
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Gracias, Grecia
Arístides Mínguez | marzo 2, 2013 | MISCELÁNEA CULTURAL » El antro de la arpía »
El antro de la arpía
Arístides Mínguez
Últimas columnas del autor:
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Historia de un maestro
Por mis alumnos
Por lo menos, unos sinvergüenzas
Horacio, semilla de poetas
Bienvenida, Frau Merkel
…………Aquellos que me hayan honrado soportando mis estentóreos graznidos, recordarán
que soy arpía sólo a tiempo parcial. El resto de mis días lo dedico a intentar enseñar Latín, aunque
me fuerzan los de la gaviota y la guadaña a impartir Griego también, en un instituto público. Me
es, por ello, muy difícil deslindar mis dos naturas.
…………Permítaseme, ergo, contarles un mito. Tratábase de un horrendo cíclope de nombre
Wertfemo. A pesar de ser oriundo del meridión de Europa, renegó de las raíces de sus
compatriotas y, llevado tal vez por sus ancestros, vendió su alma a los bárbaros teutones. Educado
en píos colegios elitistas, donde las familias de bien podían comprar títulos y prebendas y ganarse
el cielo con misas y rosarios, parece ser que hizo brillante carrera. Significose, incluso, como
lustroso tertuliano. Fue abducido como ideólogo de una oscura organización Faescista y
encumbrado a Ministro de Educación y Cultura por un gris correligionario, sobrevenido al poder
supremo, a pesar de su mediocridad y mendacidad, desde el brumoso occidente. El peor Ministro
de cuantos he tenido que sufrir en los casi cinco lustros que llevo en la profesión. Y juro por todos
mis dioses que he debido soportar a supinos botarates.
…………El tal Wertfemo comenzó pronto a mostrar su arrogancia despótica, su prepotencia
teñida de desprecio a sus subordinados y de sumisión a los señores de la mitra y la casulla, a los
que tanto debía de sus años como estudiante. Con desprecio absoluto a todo lo que sustentaba la
cultura y la educación españolas y a quienes por ellas trabajaban, se empeñó en socavar los
cimientos de las mismas.
…………En su ideario figuraba desterrar el Griego y la Cultura Clásica de las aulas de institutos
y, por ende, de universidades de la geografía patria. Así como a la Filosofía, a la Música y a todas
aquellas materias que sirven para abonar a la humanidad, para formar a seres humanos, dotados
de raciocinio y capacidad crítica, en vez de meros hacedores y consumidores de bienes de
consumo, vacuos y presas fáciles de la codicia de los plutócratas.
…………Unos héroes, grandes en su insignificancia, los miembros de la Asociación Murciana de
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Profesores de Latín y Griego (AMUPROLAG), de la mano de las profesoras Diana de Paco y
María Teresa Beltrán, de la Universidad de Murcia y de la Sociedad Española de Estudios
Clásicos, decidieron plantar cara al cíclope y sus secuaces. Como conté en otro sitio, organizaron
el evento “Yo conozco mi herencia, ¿y tú?”. El día 12 del 12 del 2012 a las doce de la mañana se
recitaron en más de doscientas instituciones de todo el mundo versos inmortales del florilegio
grecolatino, para alzar, al menos, el alma contra los desmanes gubernamentales y clamar en
defensa de nuestra herencia para con Grecia y su heredera Roma.
…………Con mi espíritu herido ante este nuevo ataque a las humanidades por parte de los que
debían dar ejemplo defendiendo nuestra esencia y cultura, me desplacé a Sagunto un tormentoso
fin de semana. Allí los de la Domus Baebia Saguntina, la meca a donde han de peregrinar todos
los devotos de la cultura clásica, organizaban unas jornadas.
…………Zeus, enojado por la impiedad que pretendía Wertfemo, descargaba su ira sobre los
mortales con una copiosa tormenta. En el salón de actos se respiraba abatimiento. Pedro Olalla,
uno de los helenistas más prestigiosos del momento, pulso bálsamo a nuestras almas afligidas
compartiendo con nosotros, en su hermosísima prosa cuajada de poesía, lo que Grecia significaba
para la humanidad. Confesaba que empezó a amar lo heleno cuando descubrió en la escuela y en
el instituto que en todas las asignaturas se comenzaba por lo griego, que muchas de ellas habían
recibido su nombre de Grecia.
…………Actuó Olalla, pues, como mi musa. Me hizo pensar y sembró en mis entrañas la idea de
que debía hacer algo para concienciar a mi entorno de que no podíamos perder lo que lo heleno
significaba para el occidente entero. A los hados gracias, a mi vera se sentaba una diosa de glauco
mirar que me sopló al ánima el rodar un vídeo para llegar a un mayor número posible de
personas.
…………Necesitaba un aedo, un rapsoda, un poeta que a los sones de su cámara cantara nuestra
desigual epopeya contra las catervas wertfémicas. Fue sin duda Atenea la que puso en mi camino
al director Pedro Pruneda, capaz de hacer poesía a través de su objetivo y con la edición de sus
vídeos.
…………Embarcamos en nuestra odisea a más de cien alumnos y profesores de un instituto de la
huerta profunda de Murcia, el Ingeniero de la Cierva, de Patiño. Sus armas, su ilusión ingenua, su
desmedido entusiasmo, la fe de los demiurgos de la idea,
Alfredo
López y Arístides Mínguez, y la
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cámara de Pruneda travestida en lira.
…………Nos parecía tan injusto que se pretendiera extirpar lo griego, lo clásico de nuestra
cultura… Grecia nos dio casi todo. Empezando por el nombre: Europa, la de ancho rostro. Todos
sabemos que lo primero que define a una persona, a un país es, precisamente, el nombre.
…………Pero es que somos, querámoslo o no, griegos. Amamos y odiamos como los griegos.
Lean, si no, los dramas de Eurípides, de Sófocles y descubran cuánto bebió nuestro Lorca de
ellos. Detecten los versos de Arquíloco de Paros o de Constantino Kavafis en los que se canta el
placer de libar una buena copa de vino y unas aceitunas de Kalamata en compañía de unos
amigos, gozando de los dones sencillos que nos da la vida sosegada.
…………Atenas, una polis de poco más de cincuenta mil habitantes, en el corazón del Ática, hizo
uno de los legados más grandes a la humanidad: el arte la política, el relacionarse los ciudadanos
entre sí de una manera civilizada. Atenas inventó la democracia, el poder del ‘demos’, el pueblo,
para contrarrestar la oligarquía de la aristocracia.
Fue en las laderas de la Acrópolis ateniense donde se construyó el primer teatro estable del
mundo, el de Dioniso. Fueron los atenienses los que lo inventaron como una manera de honrar al
dios del vino en las Grandes Dionisias. Sin el teatro, ni el cine ni la televisión hubieran sido
posibles.
…………Pero es que la incultura, la ignorancia es cancerígena. Se piensa que el griego es una
lengua muerta y que sólo interesa a los de letras. Ignoran los fundamentalistas que la palabra
‘matemáticas’ procede, precisamente, del vocablo heleno ‘mathema’, “número”. Que fueron los
matemáticos Euclides, Tales y Pitágoras los que, en griego, cimentaron las matemáticas
posteriores. En su arrogancia, desconocen que los griegos crearon la física (de ‘phisis’,
“naturaleza”) y que Arquímedes era un griego de Sicilia. Que también le dieron el nombre a la
química (de ‘chemia’, “moldear el conjunto”). ‘Biología’ viene de ‘bios’, “vida”. ‘Tecnología’,
de ‘tekhné’, “arte, técnica u oficio”.
…………Un médico que se precie, para poder desempeñar con garantías su profesión ha de
conocer, al menos, unos veinticinco mil vocablos de origen griego, porque fueron el heleno
Hipócrates (el del juramento hipocrático) y su seguidor, el latino Claudio Galeno, los que
sentaron las bases de la medicina posterior. Sabiendo griego se pueden comprender términos
como ‘diagnóstico’, ‘faringitis’, ‘pediatra’, ‘diálisis’, ‘otorrinolaringólogo’, ‘metástasis’…
…………Pero es que en las palabra ‘informática’ hay un sufijo griego ‘-ica’ o ‘-tica’. Griegos
son también términos como ‘microprocesador’, ‘megas’, ‘hipertexto’, ‘icono’, ‘programa’…
…………No podemos consentir que nos dejen sin nuestras raíces, privándonos de la Filosofía.
Fue Sócrates quien dijo que una vida que no fuera pensada, examinada, no merecía la pena ser
vivida. De ahí el empeño de Wert y los de Rajoy y Merkel por extirpar todo lo que haga pensar y
ser más humano a sus ciudadanos. Quieren súbitos, esclavos alienados, meros consumidores y
mano de obra barata para ellos y sus nuevos amigos multimillonarios.
…………Si nos quitan a Grecia y a Roma, nos dejan huérfanos. Sin Platón. Sin Aristóteles. Sin
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San Lucas y los otros evangelistas. Sin Homero. Sin Safo. Sin la tragedia. Sin la comedia. Sin la
historia. Sin el arte. Sin la lírica. Sin la épica. Sin sus dioses y su mitología. Sin el atletismo y las
Olimpíadas. Sin Maratón ni las Termópilas. Sin Troya ni Micenas. Sin Esparta y Tebas. Sin
Delfos. Sin el Parnaso. Sin las musas y su arte, la música. Sin la mirada honda de Irene Papas. Sin
la melodía de Melina Mercouri. Sin los sones de Theodorakis, Hatzidakis y Arvanitaki. Sin el
Viaje a Ítaca de Kavafis. Sin los versos de Elitis o la prosa de Kazantzakis. Sin el cine de
Angelopoulos o el prometedor Sthatis Athanasiou.
…………Con estas armas solas y los humildes mimbres que pusimos ante los ojos del rapsoda
Pedro Pruneda grabamos el vídeo Gracias, Grecia, que subimos a YouTube. En poco más de un
mes ha recibido cuatrocientas mil visitas, conmoviendo, emocionando a un país entero, la Hélade,
al ver cómo unos hijos suyos le agradecían todo lo que nos había dado a los europeos como
madre amantísima. Una ínfima muestra de nuestro amor, porque es tan grande nuestra deuda que
no nos caben palabras en el alma.
…………Desde entonces, a AMUPROLAG, al Ingeniero de la Cierva, a los autores del vídeo, a
Murcia y a España entera nos han llegado miles de mensajes de gratitud por reconocer nuestra
herencia para con ellos. Desde la propia Embajada de Grecia en España, desde su Parlamento,
desde varias televisiones, radios y diarios helenos, desde miles de ciudadanos anónimos que, bien
por carta, bien por mensajes en las páginas de YouTube, dan testimonio de gratitud y amor a
España.
…………Sabemos que Grecia está enferma ahora. Gravemente enferma, carcomida por el cáncer
inmisericorde de la crisis. Como España y toda la Europa del Sur. Que Grecia, como humana que
es, no está libre ni de culpa ni de pecado. Que en ella afloran males como la corrupción, la
incompetencia de su casta política… ¿Acaso no sufrimos nosotros los mismos males o estamos
libres de mácula?
…………Por lo tanto, querer humillarla, asfixiarla desde la Troika, Bruselas y Alemania es
insano, intolerable. Pretender incluso apartarla de la nueva Europa sería como abandonar a la
madre enferma en un muladar, para que fuera en vida presa de buitres, cuervos, águilas y
gaviotas.
…………Somos muy pocos los que luchamos contra las hordas teutonas y neoliberales, los que
damos la cara por Grecia y el mundo grecolatino. Sabemos que somos trescientos contra más de
medio millón, como en las Termópilas. Puede que caigamos y que Wertfemo pase a la historia
como el exterminador de las humanidades. Pero algunos caeremos con dignidad. Como Leónidas,
nos acicalaremos, clamaremos a los aires nuestro amor a Grecia, a Roma, antes de caer sajados
por su guadaña y los aplausos de sus mamporreros.
…………Un catedrático de Griego, que sabía un millón de veces más que esta inculta arpía, y
que fue Rector de la Universidad de Salamanca, don Miguel de Unamuno, tuvo los redaños de
decirles a los padres y abuelos de los que ahora gobiernan en España, al mismísimo Millán
Astray, fundador de la legión: “Venceréis, pero no convenceréis”.
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…………Pues eso, señores Wertfemo, Rajoy y Merkel: vencerán gracias a su mayoría absoluta,
Andreíta Fabra nos mandará a jodernos y recortarán de nuestras vidas lo que quieran. Pero
caeremos gritando como último aliento: “Gracias, Grecia; gracias, Roma, madres comunes
nuestras”.
Comentarios (5)
1.
Lidia Ballester dice:
2 marzo, 2013 a las 14:50
Impecable, sin más, cantando las verdades a la cara. Me encanta esa pasión que pones en lo que realmente
merece la pena.
Responder
2.
Elena Fuentes Cara dice:
2 marzo, 2013 a las 18:43
Enhorabuena a ti y a todos cuantos tuvieron la iniciativa de recordar nuestra herencia y a todos cuantos
colaboraron en ese magnífico vídeo que nos ha emocionado a quienes amamos la sabiduría del mundo
clásico. Sigamos en la lucha contra los monstruos -llámense cíclopes de obtuso mirar, águilas federales, o
brujas de simulaciones diferidas-. Un saludo.
Responder
3.
Amador Martos dice:
2 marzo, 2013 a las 18:44
Simplemente gracias, mil veces gracias.
Responder
4.
Arístides Mínguez dice:
2 marzo, 2013 a las 18:53
Gracias emocionadas a todos y cada uno de los que aún se sienten en el alma hijos de las Madres Grecia y
Roma, por los que dan la cara por ellas, por los que os sentís griegos.
Responder
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5.
Antonella dice:
2 marzo, 2013 a las 22:50
Me gustò mucho lo que leì. No somos sòlo 300, somos muchos màs
Aristides, I found your letter very late last night, after returning from a comedy I had gone to with a
student from my old school in the Aegean who was passing from Athens for a conference and, although I
could not call to ask either for help in Spanish or in automatic translation by the PC, and so I could only
imagine what you were writing by trying to guess using the names you were mentioning, it gave me so
many ideas that after very few hours of sleep I woke up and started selections and rearrangements of the
material of the first and most central chapter of the site www.MediterraneanBalconyNews.info and I
transformed it into a chapter much shorter and making sense much more easily because 100 pages out of its
272 were replaced by 16 pages from our correspondence and from the article you sent me and from your
article “Bienvenida, Frau Merkel”. that I looked up. If I may interpret you letter as permission to use our
exchanges as already a kind of dialog and of possible posting some kind of collaboration, e.g. a joint site at
some point in time, if all this is not just wishful thinking and idle desire on my behalf , then I add the
following PS:
PS: The pdf you’ll see, Aristides, is a selection and rearrangement of material from the first and most
central pdf of www.MediterraneanBalconyNews.info in a way that makes it much more direct and
understandable since it was written with very concrete readers in mind, you, Nuria and the kids. For this
improvement and for this way of helping the site to finish with the issue with which it had started, I thank
you all very much. If this chapter is made not the last of that site but the first of some chapter referring to
some Mediterranean collaboration or dialog, with any title you and your friends suggest, then it might have
as photos for front page something related to the following contrast of our days both in your country and in
mine. Please send me your version of it there, e.g. a school among olive trees….
Whether the joint future site realizes or not, and whether it starts as I imagined it or not, let me show you
how I will end my existing site now if I have your permission to use some of what you sent me, in the last
pdf after the bottom photos) . The next page is how the front page of my site looks (to see what omissions
the dots used refer to, you can enter the site itself by clicking on its title in the next page)
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www.MediterraneanBalconyNews.info
Put together by Yiannis Alevizos
• Rehearsal of Greek School Event.pdf
………………..
• Two letters about Canto General at Herodeion.pdf
……………………
……………………
• Glossa forever.pdf
Gracias Grecia+Gratitud Griega =The so well known line from H. Bogart's Casablanca (“I feel this is
the beginning of a beautiful friendship”) Last pdf here or first pdf of a new Mediterranean site?
Αristides, clicking on the title of the last lines just above, when I post it, if I have your permission, will send the
reader to the following pages: (Aristides here I mean the big attachment)
………………………………
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Here you are some translations of my articles
Thanks, Greece
Aristides Mínguez | March 2, 2013 | CULTURAL POLITICS »The den of the harpy»
The den of the shrew
Aristides Mínguez
Those ............ I have honored my raucous squawks enduring, remember that I am only part time bitch. The rest of my life
I dedicate to trying to teach Latin, but I forced the Seagull and the scythe to teach Greek also, in a public school. I is
therefore very difficult to separate my two natures.
Let me ............, ergo, tell a myth. Tratábase a horrendous Wertfemo name Cyclops. Despite being a native of Europe
meridión, reneged on the roots of his countrymen and, perhaps led by their ancestors, sold his soul to the Teutonic
barbarians. Educated at elite schools peeps where families could buy good titles and perks and gain heaven Masses and
rosaries, it seems he did brilliant career. Significose even as Tertullian lustrous. He was abducted as a shadowy
organization ideologue Faescista and soared to Minister of Education and Culture for gray fellow, come upon the
supreme power, despite their mediocrity and mendacity, from the misty west. The Minister worst I have ever had to
endure in the nearly five decades that I have been in the profession. And I swear by all my gods that I had to put up with
idiots supine.
Such Wertfemo ............ The show started soon despotic arrogance, arrogance tinged with contempt to his subordinates
and submission to the lords of the miter and chasuble, which had both of his years as a student. With total disregard to
all that sustained the Spanish culture and education and those who worked for them, endeavored to undermine the
foundations of the same.
In his ideas contained ............ banish the Classical Greek and classrooms of colleges and hence universities of
geography homeland. Just as philosophy, music and all matters that serve to pay the mankind, to train human beings,
endowed with reason and critical thinking, rather than mere consumers makers and consumer goods, vacuous and easy
prey the greed of the plutocrats.
Some heroes ............ great in their insignificance, members of the Association of Teachers Murciana Latin and Greek
(AMUPROLAG), from the hand of the teachers Diana of Paco and Maria Teresa Beltran, of the University of Murcia and
the Spanish Society of Classical Studies, decided to stand up to Cyclops and his henchmen. As told elsewhere, organized
the event "I know my heritage, are you?". Day 12 of 12 of 2012 at midnight is recited over two hundred institutions
worldwide immortal verse anthology of Greco-Roman, to raise at least the soul against government excesses and cry in
defense of our inheritance Greece and Rome his heir.
With my wounded spirit ............ to this new attack on the humanities by giving example to be defending our essence and
culture, I traveled to Sagunto a stormy weekend. There the Saguntina Baebia the Domus, the mecca of pilgrimage where
have all the devotees of classical culture, organized a conference.
............ Zeus, angered by the wickedness that sought Wertfemo, vented his anger on mortals with a heavy storm. In the
assembly hall was breathed gloom. Pedro Olalla, one of the most prestigious Hellenistic times, pulse balm to our
troubled souls sharing with us, in his beautiful prose poetry curd, what Greece meant for mankind. He confessed that he
began to love him when he discovered Greek at school and college in all subjects are started by the Greek, which many
of them had been named in Greece.
Acted ............ Olalla, then, as my muse. It made me think and planted within me the idea that he must do something to
raise awareness of my surroundings that we could not lose what it meant for the western Greek integer. A thank the
fates, by my side sat a glaucous goddess look that blew me to rolling a video bore to reach as many people as possible.
I needed a bard ............, a bard, a poet to the sound of your camera sing our unequal wertfémicas epic against hordes.
Athena was definitely that got in my way the director Pedro Pruneda, capable of poetry through his lens and editing their
videos.
We embark on our odyssey ............ over a hundred students and teachers from a school in the deep garden of Murcia, the
Engineer de la Cierva, Patino. His arms, his naive enthusiasm, his excessive enthusiasm, the faith of the demiurge of the
idea, and Aristides Mínguez Alfredo Lopez, and Pruneda camera disguised in lira.
It seemed so unfair ............ sought to be removed as Greek classic of our culture ... Greece gave us almost everything.
Starting with the name: Europe, the wide face. We all know that the first thing that defines a person, a country is
precisely the name.
But ............ we are, like it or not, Greeks. We love and hate as the Greeks. Lean, if not, the dramas of Euripides,
Sophocles and discover how our Lorca drank them. Detect the verses of Archilochus of Paros or Constantine Cavafy is
sung in pleasure suck a good glass of wine and some olives of Kalamata in the company of friends, enjoying the simple
gifts that life gives us quiet.
Athens ............, a polis of just over fifty thousand inhabitants, in the heart of Attica, became one of the greatest lega cies
to mankind: the art of politics, citizens interact with each other in a civilized manner. Athens invented democracy, the
power of the 'demos', the people, to counter the oligarchy of the aristocracy.
............ It was on the slopes of the Athenian Acropolis where he built the first permanent theater in the world, Dionysus.
Were the Athenians who invented it as a way to honor the god of wine in the Great Dionysia. No theater or cinema or
television have been possible.
But ............ is ignorance, ignorance is carcinogenic. It is thought that the Greek is a dead language and only want to
letters. Fundamentalists ignore the word 'mathematics' comes precisely from the Greek word 'Mathema', 'number'. What
were the mathematicians Euclid and Pythagoras Tales which in Greek mathematics cemented post. In his arrogance,
unaware that the Greeks created the physical ('physis', 'nature') and that Archimedes was a Greek from Sicily. That also
gave the name to chemistry (of 'chemia', "mold the whole"). 'Biology' comes from 'bios', 'life'. 'Technology', of 'techne',
"art, technique or craft."
30
A doctor ............ that claims to be able to perform his profession guarantees must know at least twenty-five thousand
words of Greek origin, as were the Greek Hippocrates (of the Hippocratic Oath) and his follower, Latin Claudio Galen,
who laid the foundations of medicine later. Knowing Greek can understand terms like 'diagnosis', 'sore throat', 'doctor',
'dialysis', 'ENT', 'metastasis' ...
But ............ is that the word 'computer' is a Greek suffix '-ic' or '-tica'. Greeks are also terms like 'microprocessor',
'mega', 'hypertext', 'icon', 'program' ...
We can not allow ............ leave us without our roots, depriving us of Philosophy. It was Socrates who said that a life that
was not designed, tested, not worth living. Hence the efforts of Wert and Merkel Rajoy and remove everything you do
think and be more humane to its citizens. Want sudden, alienated slaves, mere consumers and cheap labor for
themselves and their new friends billionaires.
If you take away ............ Greece and Rome, leave us orphans. Without Plato. Without Aristotle. Without Luke and the
other evangelists. Without Homer. Without Sappho. Without the tragedy. Without the comedy. No history. Without art.
Without the lyric. Without the epic. Without their gods and mythology. Without athletics and the Olympics. Without
Marathon and Thermopylae. Without Troy and Mycenae. Without Sparta and Thebes. Without Delphi. Without Parnassus.
Without the muses and their art, music. Without the deep gaze of Irene Papas. Without the tune of Melina Mercouri.
Without the sound of Theodorakis, Hatzidakis and Arvanitaki. Without the Journey to Ithaca Cavafy. No verses or prose
Elitis Kazantzakis. Without Angelopoulos film or Athanasiou Sthatis promising.
With these weapons alone ............ and the humble willow we put in the eyes of the bard Peter Pruneda recorded video
Thanks, Greece, we went up to YouTube. In just over a month has received four hundred thousand visits, touching,
thrilling an entire country, Hellas, seeing how he thanked his children about everything we had given Europeans and
loving mother. A tiny token of our love because our debt is so large that we do not fit words into the soul.
............ Since then, AMUPROLAG, the Engineer de la Cierva, the authors of the video, a whole Murcia and Spain have
come thousands of messages of gratitude for recognizing our heritage to them. From the very Greek Embassy in Spain,
from Parliament, from several televisions, radios and newspapers Hellenes, from thousands of anonymous citizens who,
either by letter or by messages on YouTube pages, testify gratitude and love for Spain .
We know that Greece ............ sick now. Gravely ill, eaten away by the merciless cancer crisis. As Spain and throughout
Southern Europe. Greece, as a human is not free nor guilt or sin. Let it emerge evils like corruption, incompetence of
caste politics ... Did not we suffer the same ills or are free of taint?
............ So wanting humiliate, choke from the Troika, Brussels and Germany is insane, intolerable. Even pretend it away
from the new Europe would be like abandoning the sick mother in a dunghill, to be living prey of vultures, crows, eagles
and gulls.
We ............ very few who fought against the Teutonic hordes and neoliberal, which give the face by Greece and the
Greco-Roman world. We know we are three hundred against over half a million, as at Thermopylae. May fall and
Wertfemo become history as the destroyer of the humanities. But some will fall with dignity. As Leonidas, acicalaremos
us, cry out to the air our love to Greece, to Rome, before falling sajados for his scythe and the applause of his
mamporreros.
A professor of Greek ............ who knew a million times this harpy uneducated, and was Rector of the University of
Salamanca, Don Miguel de Unamuno, had the guts to tell the parents and grandparents of those now rule in Spain, the
very Millán Astray, founder of the Legion "will overcome, but not be convinced."
Well ............ that, gentlemen Wertfemo, Rajoy and Merkel: expire with its absolute majority, we will send Andreita Fabra
screw us and cut from our lives whatever they want. But we fall screaming like last breath: "Thank you, Greece; thanks,
Rome, our common mother."
History Teacher
Aristides Mínguez | February 10, 2013 | Politics, Economics and Society "The den of the harpy»
Aristides Mínguez
Latest columns from the author:
He was the son of ............ war. Born in 1937. The postwar father left him. Too soon. His mother, nearly illiterate daughter
of bartenders, with the help one of his brothers, was left in tears and young fruit stores in citrus orchards in mills, to
take it forward.
It was gritty ............ fatherless raise you in those years. Dejarte tattered soul, keeping your dignity to the taunts and
abuse from your peers, embraced, without being valued at all, for the protection of a father. It was rough to see arrive at
night your mother derrengada to load sacks of flour, hands full of wounds by the prick of lemon. It was crude observe
how your aunt was played and beat jail if caught her Civil Guard, to go to the black market to make mountains of Jaen
and brought some bottles of oil, and help sell the family economy suffocated. He was stern go daily to the train track s to
pick coal fell to them to drivers with which light burner at home. It was inhuman to want to work as an adult at age eight
and your mother told you that your work was to study. We were helping to leave school and holiday periods. It was cruel
going to feel privileged that classroom rickety classes sweats paid your mother and your aunts.
At twelve ............ began high school at the institute in the capital. It moved every morning riding his Lola, the rickety
bike of his grandfather. Rain, run cold or rain to stop. Wearing a suit inherited from his godfather, a portfolio made by his
aunt old pants. With a meager pie to last until the evening. Defending the jokes and ridicule from his peers, who mocked
his rustic attire. Becoming respect punches, even. At dusk we returned home, where his mother served him the only hot
meal of the day. Always the same: chips, sometimes very few, with an egg. Never ever, confessed in the already seventy five years this land basin, has tested some potatoes that knew better. Moved, remember that often, her mother went
31
without dinner, but he lied saying that he had done. Studying the cold killed. Like a man possessed. His mother and
aunts mended.
He grabbed ............ studies as their only table with him, shipwrecked among the humble, could stay afloat in such
stormy times. Evenings, weekends and holidays as a young man helped his uncle in a pharmacy of a neighboring village.
There was around which was destined to be the second woman in his life. After his mother.
He earned ............ studies Magisterium. For his tenacity, his record achieved by direct square. He was, well, as a
teacher. The dream that his mother left his health. National Master.
His first assignments ............ carried him through the mountains of Alicante and Valencia. His family still had to help at
first. He was paid late and wrong. Found herself in this world to be a teacher. He gave himself body and soul to their
students, their families.
............ He married at twenty-seven, on a bright September day. A few weeks later his wife came to the Bultaco third
hand that had managed to buy on credit, and left for the first destination that had given the property: a hamlet in the
mountains of Alava. After two days of travel, the priest informed them that the school was closed for lack of children ...
Others thousand miles back home.
............ The following year, he was sent to a remote village in the foothills of the Sierra de Albacete, where mocea the
Segura. By then I had the first child born. In the village took him three months.
The nearest town ............ fell more than half an hour, in a tortuous road curves and reverse curves, through the cliffs
that made pale more temperate. The doctor went query once a week. The priest went to Sunday Mass only and burials.
So it was with the teacher, who occupied the other house next to the school, the only "authority" who lived in that
community of just over three hundred souls.
Just ............ had a shop with the essentials. His wife was of watery porridge aviarse with cornstarch to complete feeding
their children, once weaned. Diapers and washing clothes in the laundry room was on the high, a mile from the school,
with a pristine, icy water.
He was attending ............ creatures from eight to fourteen or more years together. A small class gave them adjoining
classroom teacher.
Those were the days ............ where the stale adage "You spend more hungry than a school teacher" was in effect.
Thanks to the solidarity of their neighbors, one day I brought a handful of potatoes or a rabbit that had hunted, to amplify
his brief diet.
Despite ............ its insignificance, the village chief had: a gentleman who had been acting lieutenant and was the owner
of three-fourths of the land. Enjoyed an almost omnipotent power and sent to the partners of civil guards, who stopped
by his old house, to settle accounts with the villagers who had dared to hunt or catch esparto by its mountains.
Beatings, fights and threats were fresh bread for those disinherited.
Master ............ like new "authority" state is gained with its hospitality and poise to the civil guards. His wife always had
a jug of wine or a ham chulla for those guards patrolling those harsh mountains and roads to nowhere, which once were
border territories between Arab and Christian kingdoms, and are rough as borders only know so. I did see that these
people, hard as the hard earth who had breastfed were good people. They were left picking up the remains esparto,
herbs or stones to essences to feed lime kilns those cliffs in the sole company of raptors and mountain goats. Who
sought only bread for their children. Stood up for them. No more beatings.
The ............ treated as equals. You. Until then those with "power" you always called them. With contempt.
Using ............ neighbors celebrated the communion of his eldest son in his classroom. Do not forget that day at the end
of mass, a neighbor approached her and told her mother she was very pretty. I thought first to name the "lady". His
mother, Dona treated by these poor people! His mother, who had so often called "baby" or "lass" family tavern
customers, regardless! Finally someone in this remote village at the foot of the rock, discovered what it was: a lady.
It turned ............ with students, families of these to get come farther in life than their parents and have not, at least, a
life so hard. Judge made in small neighborhood disputes, a taxi driver taking them to town or the capital to make
arrangements. He read the letters of emigrants and their children would write their answers. Helped them to complete
any paperwork. He had to jump into the river to help restore an old shepherd some sheep.
............ Hunting, fishing and gathering of snails and wild herbs salad were his hobbies, along with the game in the tavern.
At the edge of the school put a television club with the only TV of those contours. He was charged the same. With his
students created a garden in the school yard, which his wife attended the tenderness with which only a woman can
speak to a flower. Sticks planted as a porter in the open and there lads pulled their lessons to let off steam. Got a couple
of times came a circus, as miserable as those parts, and a caravan of the Women's Section to bring some culture and
entertainment to those people of Flint, forgotten by those above. Governor got the same visit your school, your village.
Gradually ............, the village was running out of youth. No children. Benidorm became the main destination of his men,
tired of trying to break into those cliffs. He closed his school. He was taken to the people. That same year Franco died.
There was ............ eight years. Emptied by their work, by students, by their public school. At that time believed in the old
Latin saying "Mens sana in corpore sano". In his spare time he trained those guys in offroad racing. The championships
took regional, national. For many it was the first time I left the province. And the only.
Remember ............ with bitter smile came to school when a landowner. He had made a fortune with herds of sheep and
wood. Grandfather was one of his students, most refused to studies, the poor, the ram of the flock and so cenutrio family
like this. Gently let him know the gentleman that his grandson was somewhat awkward, he did not have much
intelligence. Grandpa slapped the table with all his arrests. For rooms are not going to stay. I'd go wherever necessary,
including the capital, to purchase the intelligence he needed her grandson ...
At end of year ............, seeing that the lad would repeat, took him out of school. They took him to a religious, payment.
We see that there, and in the private university in which enrolled him, if they could buy the lost intelligence. Today
occupies an office in any area of the new regional government. We have just chump below, but now runs BMW. And dress
in processions, accompanying the blanket.
Children ............ When the teacher reached the age to go to college, requested transfer to the capital. He was in several
schools, some of slums. Not daunted. He managed to steer them away from those boys in the streets, if he was given.
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Remember that promotion in a troubled school, where the commitment of teachers managed to pull two engineers, a
teacher and a teacher, among others, of families moving skimming poverty.
Trying ............ educate their kids that with hard work, tenacity and thanks to public education means put at their
disposal, they could open a path worth in life.
He was elected director ............ that school surrounded by social housing. A newspaper had fought with marginalized
families to take their children to school, to look after your health ...
Ask ............ resigned early retirement. Only away from his job as a heart attack. They broke several teeth hammered to
intubate. It hovered between life and death twelve days in the ICU. A month after he was discharged, he was back in
school.
What could not ............ myocardial cancer beat him. His partner, his wife became ill. One was eating away the inhuman
agony for two years. Decided to request retirement to devote her full force. To give your hand the last ride.
It takes twelve years ............ retired. Life still continues to give gifts: those alumni who made a trap in a bar and inv ited
him to dinner to thank him for their lives on track there, almost twenty years later. His children, who followed in their
wake and now work as officials.
No ............ has returned to his village. His eldest son tells him that the school has been dismantled, that teachers'
houses are in ruins ... Too many bites on the soul.
Worked ............ over forty years. Class was feverish. He instilled in his children, his pupils, honesty, integrity and effort.
Something that today is despised by the society in which he lives. Also, making it one of sorrow, for the ruling classes
themselves. Only own a floor official protection, with over thirty years to its foundations, and two tahúllas orange and
lemon, which can cultivate their love of motherland.
His two older grandchildren ............ want to be teachers. Like his grandfather.
Serve ............ these pages as a tribute to my teacher, who taught me to read and write, who inoculated me the love of
reading, which I revealed in my last years all I know Spanish Language and Natural Science. My teacher, who in the six
periods that I was responsible, among my five and fourteen, I trained more, in those ramshackle rural classrooms, all
doctors and professors I met in college, studded with airs and gowns . My teacher, who along with one of the teachers
who had the fortune of being a disciple in my institute serrano, sowed in me the love for this discredited and undervalued
profession. Through her example, her demands, her attitude and commitment marked my way, which sometimes I depart
for my weakness, unable to emulate throughout.
Be ............, master, you will never get these lines, which more than once told me that the computer has caught old and
that you do not already ordered one, let alone a computer. Worse, I know that if he had prior knowledge of my writing,
how wretchedly try glossing her figure, so I categorically prohibit publication. His decency, his integrity are enemies of
fuss and eulogies. A thousand times I have been told that their reward is a job well done, a student who greets him
warmly when crossed with you twenty years later.
Sorry to disobey ............ again, master. Let me through you homenajee those thousands of anonymous teachers,
everywhere, ennoble a profession so little valued by society as blindness, unaware that all professions have their seed in
future teacher. All we have become what we are because in our childhood or youth find a teacher like you.
Va ............ for you, master.
FOR MY STUDENTS
Aristides Mínguez | February 1, 2013 | Politics, Economics and Society "The den of the harpy»
Aristides Mínguez
Latest columns from the author:
Thanks, Greece
History Teacher
At least rascals
Horace, poets seed
Welcome, Frau Merkel
Wear ............ about twenty years as a professor of Latin at a public school. I started in the coast towns of Lugo, walked
six years by Huelva and move since 1999 by the Region of Murcia. At this point, I can say that the best of these over four
decades has been the relationship with my students. Not my classes on the uses of participles, or my lectures on the
theater of Plautus.
They are the best ............ this denigrated profession. And trying to open the soul to the countless teachings they contain
within itself the Greco-Latin language and culture. Trying to sift through their daily life as a divinely human mentality like
that distills the classical world. Teach them to be better people, human beings from the lessons that gave us the
classics.
I've had them ............ hundreds, maybe thousands already. Of the more I forget their names, their faces. I keep confusing
memories of many, overlapping each other and make me confuse destinations and courses. I'm proud of them, I rejoice
with their accomplishments, I mourn their failures.
From my time ............ Galician, to my misfortune almost obliterated by the mist of oblivion, I just remain nameless faces,
faceless names. Treasure in the depths, however, the music of his Galician language, the warmth of his glances, the
exuberance of his soul when his fragas spring arrived, the hospitality with which they welcomed in their minds this
immigrant adolescents Far Sur. Share with them gales that cost them to family life, with the anguish of that from the
coast, the sea awaits to return the bodies. With them I learned to believe, pilgrimage to San Andrés de Teixido, devoured
by fog on the edge of steep cliffs in the Holy Company in witches few have wanted. I found the sun in her eyes, when we
share the Alhambra.
33
Light lime ............ Atlantic and sheltered me for six years in Huelva. With my students onubenses tasted the sweetness
of Talia doing theater and mimic a miserable feeling García Lorca and La Barraca, to carry our works by people of the
Sierra de Aracena, Almeria and Cartagena. From them I learned discipline, commitment to a common project, the know
how to delegate and share responsibilities, the sweet martyrdom of the soul feel butterflies before a performance in a
crowded theater. Names like J. R., Marta, Sandra, John, Inma ... accompany me while the gods do not steal memory.
............ Thanks to social networks could save the wreck of oblivion one of them. I have been proud of their teacher
someday. I swagger even have had the fortune to teach, when I know that Maria Rubiales travels the world (Bali, Qatar,
Australia ...) working in a multinational. When I see a psychologist Rocío as Red Cross, to assist callers to their
counterparts in various conflicts of our geography, country and abroad. When teachers know and therefore undervalued
partners in this trade, Miriam, Araceli. When I say that Martha is an architect and Rocio doctor. When, from the city bus
driving, greets me with a honk Luisle and yells, pulling her out the window almost seven feet, "" fuerunt 'or' whatever '. "
When I managed a tap the first black student I had, happy to have set up his own company. When John sold me their
mattresses, also entrepreneur.
Borrárseme ............ It takes the emotion in my soul licked Tatiana mourn seeing the Vatican to discover the Pietà by
Michelangelo. It was so nice, he said, while ... Salamanca, Seville, Rome, Florence was briefly onubenses when
lascompartí with them.
The fates took me ............ then Alhama de Murcia. I continued with my students cultivate poetry and Greco-Roman
theater. They gave me unforgettable moments in the auditorium of Cartagena and, especially, in the domed hall of the
Baths Archaeological Center, in the same Alhama. How drunk verses of Sappho and Sophocles, the compliments of
Catullus, Epitaph chords in that vault Seikilos century! How graceful was Aida, Paloma, Ana, Aranza, Dew, Angela ...!
Much beauty tore their instruments Sergio, the Antonios, Irene, Alicia ...!
With them I ............ love for the classics, for poetry, for its history. We walked in the footsteps of Salamanca Espronceda
and his student, the Celestina, Lazarillo de Tormes. I had the privilege of wearing Paco Philip and Pompeii first ...
Is ............ in Alhama de Murcia where I have stuck a thorn in the soul bleeding. My children, my children not exceeding
thirty years and are the lost generation. That generation, impeccably made, which is handled in several languages,
which moves with ease in the new technologies, which accumulate masters and has been abandoned to their fate by the
last government that has suffered this unfortunate Spain. A generation that has seen governments Aznar, Zapatero,
Rajoy favored speculators and careerists. A generation has been privileged to builders or architects believed that
developers and real estate rode a beach bar. A generation that has been assigned the absurdity of seeing small and
medium institutions simple savings accounts or bankers believed that unscrupulous politicians. A generation that has
borne a sausage that they got to politicians or embaucaban them. A sausage turned political ...
............ A generation that saw some of his deserting classrooms, sick of discipline and effort without immediate financial
reward, to earn several thousand euros on the scaffolding. Let's see now, defeated, return to the classes from which
they fled. A generation that sees standing shamelessly bosses' children only as "children", while they are offered jobs
away or encouraged to leave their dollars to make a living.
Unbearable ............ I see Felipe, with two masters and considered an international expert in his field, having to
aviárselas with the paltry grant the Ministry has given its nearly thirty years. Remembering José María tears, and almost
resigned to work the rest of his life deboned pig heads, and grateful, having "lost" valuable years studying as a mule in
institutes, colleges and language schools. Listening to Juana feel guilty for having overcome opposition in inhumane lid,
reach and be the only official, almost, of his generation to have found the path that has fought with such courage.
Reading to Lydia, who spends an average of ten hours a day on the thankless task of studying oppositions, without rest
or recognition by the markets selling vegetables for a living.
More ............ What angers me is being aware of what is lost this society, our own, leaving their hopes dashed. How well
would this hurt the citizens that they could indulge in their professions yearned to their commitment, their solidarity,
their delivery, their consistency, their integrity ...! Values terrorize those who rule.
In these decades ............ I attended the funeral of three disciples. I remember the first newcomer to Lugo Mariña: a
rapacious little over fifteen years that had molded his motorcycle into a tree. I overcame that, in the distance, framed by
the Cantabrian see those hills studded with trees. It seemed insulting such beauty, when in the atrium of the rural parish
starkest pain had taken over the minds of so many families and adolescents.
In 1998 the gods ............ I got my student Jaime, in Huelva. We arrived derived from a religious school in COU. He was
treated for an aggressive leukemia. He had lost his hair and looked swollen by chemotherapy. That same year, under the
unfortunate LOGSE, sent us the children of twelve years, first of ESO. A large group came from a marginal neighborhood,
without law and order. These creatures were asalvajadas, despite the Herculean efforts of their primary teachers.
Jaime ............ The poor, they pulled six years, some had it crushed. Entering class and shouted "bald" or "fat", no matter
the recriminations and penalties that they were applying. He never lost his composure and responded to their taunts. He
was smiling and joking about his appearance justified. Approved the course and selectivity to the first, even having had
to stay in bed in the most critical periods.
............ I saw him again two years later, in college, studying law. It was great: he had recovered all his hair and thinned.
He looked radiant: he studies were phenomenal, had thrown girlfriend. I invited him, along with J. R., to dinner with me
and some foreign teachers, in a warehouse in a nearby town. It was unforgettable. Jaime played guitar with a goblin
natural J. R. accompanying the flamenco box as only those who have music in the arteries clueless. An Austrian duo
joined with his trumpet. The Irish took a bagpipe and spoons and, together, gave us one of the most memorable concerts
I've experienced.
Around ............ eleven p.m. Huelva I had to bring it to trial because he was with his fraternity. Portapasos and were
learning was marching to the nearby Easter. I laughed at him, calling him fondly "chapels", and left him in the cathedral
square. Do not see him again.
Three years later ............, J. R. he said he had buried the previous year. Your elf, his honesty, his immense love of life
were unable to resist a new onslaught of leukemia.
34
My students ............ now called Soufiane, Alvaro, Fatima, Sarah ... From them I learned to maintain dignity while some
disrespect you for being moro or spic, to prove to the society that are as Spanish as it more, they can bring to his
countrymen as much or more than those with a pin in the national colors in Lacoste.
They ............, my students, and now those of yesteryear, are my engine. For them, for their future, their past I have to
come forward to demand that they cease to show society the vast potential that store, let them exercise the trades for
which so zealously and tears have formed and not force them to leave the country, if not want to work or serve as slaves
in brothels and casinos Eurovegas.
Spain ............ can not afford to lose. They are our greatest treasure.
Aristides, la traducción automática del griego al español sonaba terrible, incluso para un no
hablante de español como yo. ¿Por qué empiezo con griego? Volvió a escribir mi mensaje de ayer
en inglés y traducido al Español de nuevo. Ahora suena mejor.
(Aristides, the automatic translation from Greek to Spanish sounded terrible even for a non
speaker of Spanish like me. Why did I start with Greek ? I rewrote my message of yesterday in
English and translated to Spanish again. Now it sounds better).
Gracias por las traducciones de Aristides. Hace un rato volví con mi antiguo alumno y me enseñó
cómo utilizar la traducción automática y traduje su carta mañana. Mañana traduzco sus artículos.
(ayer sonaba terrible?= Eycharistw para solicitud de empleo Aristeidi. Antes gyrisa LIGO con el
antiguo alumno y mi fallido como a utiliza la traducción automática y su metefrasa desayuno
Gramma. Mañana tendrá lugar metafrasw los artículos)
Ahora vamos a tomar en serio. Aristides apenas necesitamos traducción para lo que tu voz
apasionada y fuerte puede decir con tanta verdad e ira circulando en sus venas que su pulso
puede derribar muros. Si mi nivel de inglés a Español Traductor no tiene sentido por favor
pregunte a Nuria, a quien también enviar estas palabras en inglés junto con la letra m a
ella. Voy a elegir primero algunos de sus paragpaphs para responder, porque el más
apropiado demostrar cómo la vida paralela.
Now let’s get serious. Aristides we hardly need translation for what your passionate and
loud voice can say with so much truth and anger circulating in your veins that your pulse
can bring down walls. If my English to Spansh translator does not make sense please ask
Nuria to whom I also send these few words in English together with my letter to her. I will
choose first some of your paragpaphs to answer, because they are the most appropriate to
show how life-parallel we are.
Worked ............ over forty years. Class was feverish. He instilled in his children, his pupils,
honesty, integrity and effort. Something that today is despised by the society in which he lives.
Also, making it one of sorrow, for the ruling classes themselves. Only own a floor official
protection, with over thirty years to its foundations, and two tahúllas orange and lemon, which
can cultivate their love of motherland.
His two older grandchildren ............ want to be teachers. Like his grandfather.
Serve ............ these pages as a tribute to my teacher, who taught me to read and write, who
inoculated me the love of reading, which I revealed in my last years all I know Spanish Language
and Natural Science. My teacher, who in the six periods that I was responsible, among my five
and fourteen, I trained more, in those ramshackle rural classrooms, all doctors and professors I
met in college, studded with airs and gowns . My teacher, who along with one of the teachers
who had the fortune of being a disciple in my institute serrano, sowed in me the love for this
discredited and undervalued profession. Through her example, her demands, her attitude and
commitment marked my way, which sometimes I depart for my weakness, unable to emulate
throughout.
Be ............, master, you will never get these lines, which more than once told me that the
computer has caught old and that you do not already ordered one, let alone a computer. Worse, I
35
know that if he had prior knowledge of my writing, how wretchedly try glossing her figure, so I
categorically prohibit publication. His decency, his integrity are enemies of fuss and eulogies. A
thousand times I have been told that their reward is a job well done, a student who greets him
warmly when crossed with you twenty years later.
Sorry to disobey ............ again, master. Let me through you homenajee those thousands of
anonymous teachers, everywhere, ennoble a profession so little valued by society as blindness,
unaware that all professions have their seed in future teacher. All we have become what we are
because in our childhood or youth find a teacher like you.
Va ............ for you, master.
At this point, I can say that the best of these over four decades has been the relationship with my
students. Not my classes on the uses of participles, or my lectures on the theater of Plautus.
They are the best ............ this denigrated profession. And trying to open the soul to the countless
teachings they contain within itself the Greco-Latin language and culture. Trying to sift through
their daily life as a divinely human mentality like that distills the classical world. Teach them to
be better people, human beings from the lessons that gave us the classics.
I saw him again two years later, in college, studying law. It was great: he had recovered all his
hair and thinned. He looked radiant: he studies were phenomenal, had thrown girlfriend. I invited
him, along with J. R., to dinner with me and some foreign teachers, in a warehouse in a nearby
town. It was unforgettable. Jaime played guitar with a goblin natural J. R. accompanying the
flamenco box as only those who have music in the arteries clueless. An Austrian duo joined with
his trumpet. The Irish took a bagpipe and spoons and, together, gave us one of the most
memorable concerts I've experienced.
Around ............ eleven p.m. Huelva I had to bring it to trial because he was with his fraternity.
Portapasos and were learning was marching to the nearby Easter. I laughed at him, calling him
fondly "chapels", and left him in the cathedral square. Do not see him again.
Three years later ............, J. R. he said he had buried the previous year. Your elf, his honesty, his
immense love of life were unable to resist a new onslaught of leukemia.
My students ............ now called Soufiane, Alvaro, Fatima, Sarah ... From them I learned to
maintain dignity while some disrespect you for being moro or spic, to prove to the society that are
as Spanish as it more, they can bring to his countrymen as much or more than those with a pin in
the national colors in Lacoste.
They ............, my students, and now those of yesteryear, are my engine. For them, for their future,
their past I have to come forward to demand that they cease to show society the vast potential that
store, let them exercise the trades for which so zealously and tears have formed and not force
them to leave the country, if not want to work or serve as slaves in brothels and casinos
Eurovegas.
Spain ............ can not afford to lose. They are our greatest treasure.
Aristides por escucharte incluso a través de un traductor de robot que encontrar maneras
de hablar contigo más brevemente. Ayer me encontré Cómo cortar 100 páginas de 272
páginas iniciales, hoy que he encontrado cómo decirlo todo con algunas fotos y 10 con dos
obituarios, uno relacionados con el cáncer. Es en griego, pero puesto que son pocos que
prefiero evitar el robot y pedir su esposa Maria ayuda para cuando ella encuentra tiempo.
Aristides by listening to you even through a robot translator I find ways to talk to you more
and more briefly. Yesterday I found how to cut 100 pages from initial 272 pages, today I
found how to say everything with some photos and 10 pages with two obituaries, one
related to cancer. They are in Greek but since they are few I prefer to avoid the robot and
to ask your wife Maria for help for whenever she finds time.
……PS: Since both of you are in the middle of exams I will select some pages and translate them through the robot ,
I call them “lessons”, not because I want to “teach” you but because the were lessons that really taught me They
are four……
36
“El jueves la campana peaje para Diamandis Palaiologos, la high School secundariaheadmaste, Mados como todos nosotros en el pueblo llamado a él, incluso algunos estudiantes.
Estudiantes lo llamaban "Señor" y muchas chicas aún cal le "sir" no solo incluso después de la
graduación sino después se casan y que incluso se convierten en madres. Pero incluso las niñas
gritaban "Mados!-Mados!" junto con todos sus compañeros, cuando niños y girs, ataviados con
los trajes tradicionales de Glossa, sacado de los troncos de sus abuelas, fueron cediendo ante el
aplauso de sus padres y sus abuelos, para un evento más baile coreografiado por Mados.
Día del funeral, el viernes, la carroza venía del hospital enfermedad pulmonar en Atenas, y su
familia y sus amigos, que es todo el pueblo y todos sus amigos que podrían hacer venir de otras
ciudades, esperaban la carroza no en su casa, pero en su escuela, ya que fue allí que había hecho
el pueblo todo su familia. Para los últimos tres años fue de allí él la izquierda corriendo para ir a
Atenas para quimioterapia y fue hubo que regresó directamente a puerto después de volver de la
quimioterapia. Él fue a casa al mediodía con todos nosotros después de classhours y Christina, su
esposa, lo vi en la mañana de su regreso, llegó al colegio. Y como una niña de trece años, en el
obituario primero en nombre de la primera categoría "Señor, nosotros que estaban en el aula en
toda su oficina, sentí una sensación de seguridad cada vez que escuchamos sus llaves otra vez
abrir su puerta..."
De todos modos, digamos que mucha gente en Glossa ese día dio condolencias no sólo a los
miembros de la familia de Mados sino también entre sí, que es como si cada uno también había
perdido a un miembro de su propia familia y el otro también, por lo que dieron y aceptaron,
condolencias. Los estudiantes que lo tenían como profesor hace 15 años y no pudieran tener un
permiso de ausencia de sus trabajos de Atenas enviaron a una joven que fue un ex compañero
suyo un correo electrónico a leer en el nombre de clase de su año lo siguiente:
"Nuestro Amado Señor, nosotros los estudiantes, se expresan a través de estas palabras nuestro
dolor y nuestra pena para nuestro gran pérdida que viene con su muerte. Recordando nuestra
niñez primero lo que surge es su imagen.Usted nos enseñó los primeros pasos de bailes. ¿Pero
con quien vamos a bailar el armenio "Tamzara" ahora? ¿A quien vamos a admirar la danza de
Zorba y el zeimbekiko de Evdokia?
Estamos seguros que esta noche los ángeles te están esperando bailar con ellos. ¿Qué hay de
todos vamos primero recordamos de usted como profesor en la escuela? ¿Sus bromas en clase?
¿Sus esfuerzos para transmitirnos sus valiosos conocimientos en matemáticas? ¿Su agonía para el
desarrollo de nuestro pueblo? ¿Su insistencia en nuestro ensanchar nuestros horizontes? Sobre
todo, lo que no olvidaremos es que, no importa cuántos años transcurridos el tiempo que
estuvimos en la escuela y no importa que tan lejos nos encontramos de nuestros lugares, siempre
cuidó para nuestro progreso y estabas junto a nosotros para pedir nuestros problemas personales
como un segundo padre. Con su Consejo y su solicitándole han sido, para todos nosotros, un
maestro en la vida. BUEN VIAJE MAESTRO!!!"
Nada más se necesita mostrar que algunas personas sienten Mados como un segundo padre,
algunos como un hermano mayor, algunos como un hijo y todos como compañero aldeano que
hizo escuela una segunda familia y segundo hogar para ellos mismos o para sus hijos o nietos. El
obituario por el Presidente del Comité de los padres es imposible narrar a usted, sólo le diré que
este año era Theresa el farmacéutico que usted conoce y que por supuesto se lo encargó
emocionalmente que no sólo ella misma pero casi la totalidad de sus oyentes estaban llorando a lo
largo de la lectura del mismo.
Padre Alexis que había hablado primero, después el servicio fúnebre había escrito la manera
Mados funcionó con ya su primera frase: "Cuando llegué a Glossa encontré las puertas de la
escuela amplia abran no porque Mados tenía cualquier aditamento especial para cuestiones
religiosas pero porque él tenía un corazón abierto y una mente absolutamente abierta y porque
quería que los alumnos de la escuela para que así sea también"
Incluso la despedida formal emanado de sus oficiales superiores en la ciudad, algo que bien
podría ser sólo impersonal Cortés terminó en un tono muy personal, como también terminó a
37
cualquier persona que conocía de cerca Mados y su oferta. Este adiós "formal" fue leído por un
maestro que después de un año cerca de nosotros había sido transferido a Skiathos a través y
después de leer añadió en nombre de ella y todos nosotros que nunca había trabajado con Mados,
la primera estrofa de la canción que todos hemos utilizado en las celebraciones del memorial del
día que el depósito de la junta había invadido la Escuela Politécnica, el verso de la canción sobre
el hombre en situación de "dead man walking" pero titulado "hombre vivo despertar": "Mientras
caminaba por la calle volar como un águila/el barrio era simplemente admirar desde sus
ventanas"; ahora refiriéndose a los Mados en ataúd desfilado en hombros bajo los balcones de la
escuela a la iglesia
Algunos colegas no tenía tiempo para hacerlo en un día de trabajo, algunos por correo electrónico
que páginas para leer en la iglesia si podría conseguir una oportunidad, un profesor que una vez
había dicho que esta escuela era sólo como escuelas que ella había leído, no como las escuelas
que nunca había visto, me envió cuatro páginas, leer incluso una pequeña parte de ellos. Me ha
impresionado por su localización "la razón por la que la escuela de Glossa se convirtió para todos
nosotros que se pasó por allí una estación de ambos y un faro Mados sabía cómo hacer otros
descubrir y dar a su mejor uno mismo". Estaba tratando de escribir algo en el autobús estaba
montando para ir a la nave, pero después de haber vivido allí durante 11 años traía tantos
recuerdos y apunta a hacer a mí y a nuestro ex estudiante Kostas que, en el siguiente asiento,
también venía para el funeral, que pronto tuve 7 páginas más para ir sin esperanza para eliminar o
subrayar nada, cada vez miraba las cosas fueron agregadas no quita. ¿En Glossa dije a Dina
nuestro ex dueña y su esposo a Christos que me fueron hosting "lo que nunca diré de todo lo que
viene a la mente y de todas las páginas que me enviaron? Mados es una historia sin fin, puedes
hablar durante horas sobre él. El alma de la escuela y qué alma! A-L-M-A con todo capital de
Letras! Si la escuela es una nave Mados es el motor lo remolque y un motor que esto
era"Christos"Naves sin un motor permanecen empatados en el puerto", dijo, y Dina dijo"no aún
necesita las páginas. En ese momento voy solo hablas de tu corazón". Y esto realmente sucedió
finalmente. Con los discursos que estaba oyendo más venía pero de repente en lugar de agregar
resta a todos, he dejado todas las páginas en mi bolsillo, no abrió una sola, y acaba de decir otras
cosas
“…¿Sobre Mados donde uno puede empezar o terminar? Además, si de alguien obras se hablan
de él entonces palabras son redundantes, ya que, mientras viven, su presencia es dentro de todo lo
que crean para ofrecer, y, cuando mueren, su ausencia se siente como ser huérfano, sentida por
todos, tanto por su familia y todos los que se había convertido en familia con ellos. Y hay tantos
en Glossa, como hemos escuchado, que se sienten Mados es un pedazo de ellos como las
personas de su propia familia! Vimos los últimos estudiantes de la escuela lo consideran un
segundo padre, los graduados mayores lo consideran un hermano mayor. Y ellos lo consideran
esto en todas las cuestiones, no sólo en los referente a la escuela donde ahora sus hijos pasan
como ellos mismos una vez fueron. No sólo en cuestiones relativas a la educación o exámenes de
admisión de la Universidad sino también cuestiones culturales o administrativas de la aldea y
cuestiones de celebraciones, fiestas y jubilaciones y también cuestiones de aflicción o desastre en
el que Mados siempre estaría presente para contribuir con su experiencia, su know-how, su
pasión, su entusiasmo, sus ideas, su amor por todo ocurrido hacer, y, sobre todo, sus fuerzas
inmensos e incansables que fueron saliendo de su inmensa energía y su inmenso amor por los
niños y para la escuela y por el pueblo, o más bien para todas las tres aldeas cuyos hijos vienen a
esta escuela, él nunca discriminó entre Glossa, Loutraki, Elios, después de todo él era de Elios,
era Christina, su esposa, que fue de Glossa. ara ver cuán grande era energía Mados', y el amor que
puso en acción, vamos a pensar que en los tres años tan con el corazón como el de lion luchó con
cáncer nunca, por un momento, dejó pensando en los niños y la escuela, y que firmó su retiro sólo
veinte días atrás, cuando las infecciones consecutivas le dieron señal de que tal vez no
aplazamiento más adelante fue, o, aunque hubo algunos, necesitaría más y más frecuentes
períodos de ausencia, no sólo un par de días cada dos o tres meses, y así la escuela necesitaría
38
otra cabeza, y por eso viaja a Atenas esta última vez mostró su hijo Christos donde en el disco
duro de la escuela tuvo sus varios archivos para que él podría demostrar que su sucesor. Durante
tres años junto con su propia batalla pensó de escuela tanto como antes, de lo que necesita
reparación y a qué hora debe encender calefacción central en la escuela en la mañana, si
encontraría suficientes docentes para entrenamiento de la escuela, de noche y que Museo o que
exposición de arte popular en Atenas o en cualquier otra cosa en Grecia que llevaría a los niños
como una excursión o bien porque ya no había estado allí la se renovaron los objetos expuestos;
los chicos de Atenas que tienen todas esas cosas muy cerca no han visto la mitad o un tercio de
los que han sido los niños de aquí, es por eso que algunas chicas me han comentado que cuando
hacen nuevos amigos en el univerisites alrededor de Grecia y el intercambio de impresiones y
recuerdos con ellos, cuando otras niñas ver sus álbumes de fotos que son tres veces tan gruesos
preguntan "cuando encontró tiempo para ir a todos estos lugares?" Lo que él pensó que sería un
estímulo o una fuente de alegría a los niños tomó dolores para llevarlos a él o a ellos, por ejemplo
todos recordamos cómo, cuando escuchó que Papastefanou el veterano de Letras de la nueva ola
y de radio tenía un grupo disponible para visitar escuelas y establecer estaciones de radio locales
llamó sobre durante dos días y noches de radio eventos organizados aquí a través de co-operación
de ese grupo y los niños. Incluso cuando en Atenas para la quimioterapia, si al día siguiente fue
un fin de semana pasó alrededor de Atenas para ver qué hay de nuevo en el planetario, o las
exposiciones para ver si había llegado el momento para traer o enviar a los niños otra vez; pero
prefirió ser consigo mismo porque su corazón era no sólo un león pero de un niño demasiado y le
gustaba jugar y reír junto a ellos, ya sea fútbol o en tabernas o diversión parques. Y él nunca se
limitó a organizar divertidos eventos, siempre participó en ellos; incluso el diagnóstico de su
cáncer de pulmón, hace tres años, llevó a cabo el martes después de Domingo de carnaval, el
domingo, aún desprevenidos, él bailaba disfrazado en la Plaza y tuvo su primer escupir sangre, el
lunes fue otra de las fiestas no quería echar a perder para sí mismo o a nadie por lo que el martes
fui al doctor y me dijeron para ir a Atenas con el barco siguiente. Pero en los próximos agosto
bailando parte de las festividades del memorial Loizos en el patio de la escuela que no
permaneció en reposo. Él coreografió el espectáculo y entrenó los bailarines a sí mismo. Y en el
mismo evento el año después de eso, se trata de agosto antes de la última de ellas, no sólo
coreografía y entrenado pero también fue en el escenario mismo y conducido la parte más intensa
de la danza, y él mismo se preguntaba cómo, en una medianoche post excursión también esa
noche encontró con la energía a bailar otra vez. ¿Que entre los espectadores del DVD del patio de
la escuela de esa noche nunca pensaría que estaba en la segunda quimioterapia de año de un
cáncer que no pudo tomar la cirugía? Antes de convertirse en Director, cuando tenía sólo
matemático, otra vez fue infatigable. La primera vez, de los exámenes de admisión de la
Universidad de nuevo tipo, envió a los niños la noche antes para que ellos pudieran obtener
algunos descansar y absorber mejor y les dijo que vienen en 5:30 mañana fresca para algunos
detalles de terminación y luego para una escapada de relax antes de los exámenes reales desde
8:30. Se convirtió en un director hace diez años, pero incluso antes de que él nos contaba de su
sueño de hacer de esto una escuela modelo, pero ninguno de nosotros tenía una pista de lo que
quería decir porque todos asociados a esa expresión con su significado habitual de clasificación
muy competitivo en resultados de entrada que sabíamos desde jóvenes de las escuelas de Atenas,
generalmente privadas con unos, no más que dos o tres, el público también tiene una tradición de
décadas. Refería a lo que dijo, no en el sentido de "eventully" o "gradualmente" modelo pero de
una manera todos nos dimos cuenta en el primer el domingo comenzó su dirección. Escuchamos
fuertes danzantes música y estudiante de danza-gritos y gritos de alegría de un aula grande fueron
que empezó clases de baile, choreogrphing y formación. Antes de decir lo que su filosofía de la
educación fue mencionaré lo que todos sabemos, las muchas distinciones en concursos de baile
toda Grecia que hizo de nuestra escuela. En detalle, que me quedaré en uno de ellos en Larissa, la
coreografía llamó a "Nickolas el pescador", que es también el que mismo bailó que en agosto
pasado dijimos bailó. Pero su primera puesta en escena fue en Larissa con los estudiantes. Su
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música fue interpretada en directo por el ex estudiantes Thodoris, su hijo y su compañera de clase
de Tasos, Despoina y dieciséis años, haciendo cantar a sí misma. Consiguieron el segundo premio
en Tesalia y quien vea el video de que da cuenta de dos cosas muy characterisitic: escuchar
whisting y aplausos que acompañan a la música y la danza en el escenario, uno piensa que la
audiencia está llena de gente de Glossa, que son en los espíritus o en soporte, mientras que la
única persona de Glossa son las personas en el escenario de la audiencia, y Christina 'Mados que
toma las escenas en vídeo tan posiblemente no puede aplaudir. Es la audiencia general sí mismo
que ha ido a espíritus elevados. La otra cosa es que mucha gente escribió a nuestra escuela una
carta diciendo cosas como "Es que debería haber tenido el primer premio" o "Gracias por hacer
que nos optimista de ver las cosas como que todavía ocurre" o "sólo con escuelas como la
podemos mantener nuestra poesía popular y folclor y todas nuestras tradiciones". Agreguemos
también que cuando en algún momento un periódico local escribió eran nostálgicos de la época
cuando grandes cantantes profesionales de Grecia fueron invitados a nuestra isla para llevar a
cabo mientras que el nuevo alcalde no contaban con Mados canceló esa conclusión el día
siguiente escribiendo a ellos un tipo de catapulta de respuesta: "Vamos a no quedarse sólo en el
primer argumento de contador que viene a la mente, que con dichos gastos a la vez anterior
vaciado el fondo de la cultura y ahora no puede repetirse. Permite profundizar: esos artistas
fueron muy significativos y les damos las gracias por venir, pero desarrollo cultural significa ante
todo ayudar a los talentos locales a ser descubierto y cultivado y no traer talentos listos hechos
con dinero hecho listo de paquetes y préstamos de los fondos. Los escritores de ese artículo
preguntan de qué manera Syros el jugador perfecto buzuki realizó a emigrar a París después de
haber enseñado buzuki perfecta a generaciones de niños de todos los cuatro pueblos de la isla, y
de qué manera Patsis quien enseñó teatro a generaciones de estudiantes aquí fue hecha para ir
trabajo en la escuela de teatro más prestigiosas de Atenas aunque él realmente preferían trabajar
con nosotros aquí. Se trata de talentos como los grandes cantantes, que el artículo mencionado,
que deberíamos ser nostálgicos sobre puesto que al menos ellos mismos no se perdieron. Su
talento aquí que se perdieron y lo que deberíamos estar nostálgicos sobre es el talento que expulsó
mientras creaban más talentos"
Tan Mados hizo esta escuela no solamente absolutamente modelo pero también bastante original,
puesto que no parecerse a cualquiera de las escuelas modelo que leía en los libros o ver en la
televisión. Era Mados mismo la escuela se asemejó a Mados no necesitaba encontrar algo a imitar
La manera en que en nuestras reuniones de facultad podía decir en una sola frase qué tipo de
escuela que tenía en mente era la siguiente: "lo que me gusta de la escuela que es zumbido todo el
dia como un panal de abejas, o incluso tarde al anochecer. Quiero que los niños se sientan la
escuela como su hogar. Llegar en la noche durante horas de oficina, para ensayos, clases de
pintura y hagiografía, bouzouki o guitarra o música bizantina de la iglesia, para el tradicional
baile, rock para el baile aeróbico, de taekwondo, baloncesto o fútbol, para la datación, por eso me
dejaron luces sobre los niveles hasta tarde, nos pague una factura algo más alta pero al menos
tiene menos preocupaciones acerca de los niveles en que liga permanecerá... " Así que tomó todo
en considederation. Aquí he mencionado sólo disponibles a través de youngmen de cosas que
tienen una especialidad pero no es un oficio y pueden ofrecer cursos en cuotas mínimas, casi
puramente simbólicos, ya que no tienen que pagar alquiler, una vez que la escuela ofrece sus
aulas gratuitamente. ¿Los niños en la ciudad pueden hacer todas estas opciones? Tienen que tener
los padres que son millonarios para pagar todo eso y que también sería pagar un chofer, o
convertirse en uno, para llevarlos alrededor de todas las actividades de la noche en seguridad y
velocidad.Pero en qué manera Mados pasó una estación y un faro para todos nosotros como
identificado por el colega que escribió de compañeros-Sporades-isla en el mar Egeo, Skyros, y
que en sus dos años aquí colaboró con colegas en todos los conciertos de rock y conciertos de
música folclórica y baile aeróbico, roca de baile y tango danza eventos de lenghths Marathonian y
18 meses de ensayos? ¿Cómo Mados todos nos hizo tratar de encontrar y ofrecer a nosotros
mismos mejores? Como señaló la pregunta ella también señaló la respuesta: lo hizo por la amd
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más simple mayoría manera evidente: Por haciéndose ejemplo en hechos y no palabras; el
ejemplo de infatigable diligencia y continuo amor y cuidado para los niños; así motivándonos
también hacia las mismas cosas al mismo tiempo al mismo tiempo que nos muestra aspectos de
los niños y potencialidades de la escuela que no habíamos pensado. Así sucedió por ejemplo en
lugar de órdenes y con direcciones ni y también tomando sobre sí mismo muchas de las rutinas
para hacernos libres asumir el control de las actividades más creativas y esenciales. Así él no
asigna a la manera de feroz de un burócrata o tecnócrata ni agita las manos en la manera de los
intelectuales de la cultura abstracta teórica. Fue a través del ejemplo y diciéndonos que se reúnen
cada ahora y después en una taberna o en su casa a cocinar junto o togethter, discutan todos
juntos o en grupos más pequeños, comer y beber juntos y juntos de la broma, cantan y bailan
juntos y así nuestro grupo tiene más atado y el personal alquila habitaciones alrededor de la
escuela y vivió, independientemente de cada uno ha edad, una edad dormitorio segundo común
después del primero de nuestros años de estudiante, en vez de ir a alquilar una casa en la aldea
más grande de la isla para tener más opciones de vida nocturna en bares, en lugar de en casas de
uno al otro. Alojándose en la aldea hicimos llegar no oly atados entre sí, no sólo no tenemos
idilios y matrimonios, pero nosotros también fuimos empató con nuestros studenrs que vimos de
día y de noche, o vio sus nombres en las tablillas sobre las puertas de las tiendas y tiendas que
perteneció, por supuesto, a sus padres y abuelos. Así nos hicimos demasiado familiar con
nuestros estudiantes. Y la escuela, como operado por Mados, libremente y de manera amada, se
convirtió en un lugar que los niños que se habían graduado y todavía no se habían marchado para
elsewere, llegó a sus puertas durante meses todas las mañanas antes que incluso los días donde
estaría marcados ausente si finales. Y si entraron a un salón de clases los ojos de los recuerdos
que venían las inundaciones". Todo esto fue dicho por Mados en breve, una vez más, la frase
"Primero las cosas que quedan" y explicó que "a quien se siente estableciéndose a trabajar duro
voy a dar estímulos y problemas duras para entrar en escuelas superiores. Pero secundaria no es
una escuela de entrenamiento, ni es tampoco la vida sólo sobre escuelas superiores. En primer
lugar las cosas que permanecen: las canciones, los bailes, el amor entre compañeros, crecer juntos
por el resto de sus vidas, juntos en alegrías y celebraciones y fiestas y dolores y catástrofes y
funerales. Eso es lo que queda"
Por lo que decidió traer de vuelta los eventos de gimnasia preparatoria de junio que comenzó
como un día y en dos o tres años se convirtió en toda una semana de eventos culturales desde
profesores de incentivo, energía e imaginación asumieron el control, junto con sus estudiantes,
proyectos automotrices y crearse a sí misma en atletismo, danza, conciertos, fotografía,
construcciones, pintura, conferencias...Absolutamente a menudo cada uno de estos días duró
hasta cinco horas y finalmente terminó con el baile de todo el pueblo bajando por las gradas hasta
el suelo del patio de la escuela. Y todo esto comenzó con el siguiente pensamiento simple de
Mados "colegas, pronto los niños escribirán sus exámenes, algunos pasará algunos voluntad
fallan algunos vendrá para un maquillaje en septiembre. Si no hacen bien, entonces ¿qué tendrán
que recordar de este curso? ¿Escuela pretende ser sólo un lugar para tomar cursos? Como hemos
dicho, viene primero lo que queda.Una vez solíamos tener estos eventos de junio que fueron
suprimidos porque sirvieron a los objetivos de la propaganada de junta. Así que ¿por qué no
podemos hacemos otra vez pero con una lógica diferente? Espero vuestras propuestas... Gracias a
su para sus ideas. El final de la reunión de la Facultad, tener una tarde agradable". Así que esa fue
la forma en la escuela convirtió lo que es y cuando los niños ven un DVD de algún evento de la
escuela el agua de su ojos. Y no me refiero sólo a los ojos de las niñas o los niños más jóvenes,
los de 13, sino de la resistente entre los chicos de la clase graduanda de 18. Una vez, antes de 4
años fue creo, que todos ellos comienzan a llorar cuando recuerdo Dimitris el profesor de
literatura, después de un concierto con el coro y los solos de Despoina, cantó, como solista, con
su guitarra, la canción va como "para el borde del mundo si me dices te vas / mina estarás en tu
sueño / y juntos estaremos..." y pronto voz tembló o incluso agrietados cuando vio en los niveles
toda la clase graduanda en lágrimas. Obviamente su tan moverlo, todos ellos, era no debido al
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significado de la letra de la canción original que se está diciendo a un hombre por una mujer
enamorada pero al hecho de que en ese momento la escuela se había convertido en viva, había
adquirido en carne y hueso y había encontrado una voz y cantaba para nosotros que incluso si
dejamos para el borde del mundo le pertenecemos a él en nuestro sueños y que él y nosotros
siempre juntos...Desde entonces muchos muchos de nosotros han sentido igual que puesto que la
escuela se convirtió como dijimos no sólo una estación pero nuestro Faro. Pero que de todos
nosotros hubiera podido pensar que, en el próximo Carnaval, sería enfermo el pilar de todo lo que
fue el alma de la escuela y el Faro de nuestro vida y que cuatro años después de que, hoy,
estaríamos aquí, en efecto cantando a él el mismo versículo entonces sentía el canto de la escuela
para nosotros, que es lo que estamos diciendo ahora es como cantar a Mados "incluso si dejas
más allá del borde de la mundo usted siempre será nuestra, siempre estaremos juntos"lo que
significa que mientras vivimos lo hará siempre un pedazo de cada uno de nosotros.
Al principio del verano pasado Glossa se convirtió en huérfano una vez más cuando perdió Nikos
Angeletos, en breve Nick, quien murió antes de tiempo en un accidente absolutamente trivial que
lo llevó a un golpe en un punto muy desafortunado que le dejó una planta por cuarenta días antes
de morir. Glossa le lloraron como ella también lloraron junto con las familias de los jóvenes entre
20 y 25 años que, uno tras otro, se perdieron de cáncer o de accidentes en los últimos años. Nikos
y Mados diferenció por solamente dos o tres años, habían sido felices han hecho maravillosas
familias y han ofrecido al pueblo, cada uno de manera diferente, las cosas que hacían en ambos
tan querido que todos los sentido como gente de su propia familia, independientemente de su
parentesco o afiliación política. Cuando Mados fue a ver a Nick en el hospital Nick había
recuperado la conciencia pero fue paralizado desde el cuello hacia abajo. Pero todos nos esperaba.
Su hija mayor Vaso había sido con él y le dijo a Mados que él le había pedido "Nos dirigiremos
para Vaso de café?". Mados oído y entrar con los ojos de riego, le pidió "Se nos vaya riego
Nick?" refiriéndose a que el riego de sus jardines de vegetales que disfrutaron a menudo haciendo
juntos hablando, primero del jardín después del otro. Ojos de Nick regados demasiado con el
Mados riego le recordaron. En ese momento las lágrimas de ambos todavía eran lágrimas de
esperanza. Ahora, como padre Alexis aquí a nuestro lado, siempre se planteará, Mados y Nikos
son riego juntos en el paraíso; en el paraíso como que ambos pensaban del Paraíso: como jardín.
Y, de hecho, como he leído o escuchado en algún lugar, en el languae de la Biblia que es lo que
significaba el paraíso: jardín. Todos nosotros, desde donde estamos parados, decirles "agua juntos
y ser eternamente feliz y le recordaremos para siempre, que es hasta que también llegamos a
encontrar una vez más de cerca"
Antes de ver una fotografía con los niños, radiante de alegría alrededor de Mados después de ser
muy apreciado en Larissa, vamos a ver una fotografía de ellos dos, Nikos y Mados, que se siente
como si Nikos se está preparando dar la bienvenida Mados acercarse a Paraíso y también vamos
a ver última foto desprevenido 'Mados y una foto del próximo año también ".
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Let'also ir a una, literalmente epi-taph (= en la tumba), evento que causó incesante laughther nervioso a sus
pocos testigos y a todos los que oyeron respecto de ellos, nada es incorrecto en narrarlo, lo único malo es
que faltaron Mados, y es una lástima porque él habría rugió con su laughther más inmenso si había vivido a
presenciarlo, pero era justo al lado de su tumba: El padre de un niño y dos niñas que eran todos estudiantes
nuestros, ayudaba con paleando tierra en 'Mados grave y, sudoración, prestado en la siguiente tumba para
descansar. Pero ya que, por supuesto, nadie nunca saltaría sobre la tierra paleada en sepulcros hacerlo denso
y así que podría mantenerse delgado, los mármoles rindió y se encontró cara abajo en a tumba de alguien y,
puesto que los mármoles consiguieron una sacudida minuciosa, la gran cruz también consiguió separado y
cayó sobre él como si para finalizar este nuevo entierro. Kostas y Niki, su madre, que después del entierro
de Mados había permanecido un tiempo para cuidar de la tumba de la madre de Niki que había muerto
recientemente, vio la escena y entró risa nerviosa (realmente me y George, el hermano menor de Iro*) oído
de todo esto de Kostas en el barco y autobús con el que nos estábamos volviendo a Atenas después del
funeral. Y por supuesto también contactamos con risa nerviosa)
*... Pronto veremos los otra vez.
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On Thursday the bell tolled for Diamandis Palaiologos, the high school-headmaste, Mados as all
of us in the village called him, even some senior students. Junior students called him “sir” and
many girls still cal him “sir” not just even after graduation but also after they marry and even
become mothers. But even those girls were shouting “Mados!-Mados!” along with all their fellow
students, when boys and girs, dressed in the traditional costumes of Glossa, taken out of the
trunks of their grandmothers, were bowing to the applause of their parents and their
grandparents, for one more dancing event choreographed by Mados.
On the funeral’s day, Friday, the hearse was coming from the pulmonary disease hospital in
Athens, and his family and his friends, that is the whole village and all of his friends who could
make it coming from other towns, waited for the hearse not at his home but at his school, since it
was in there that he had made the whole village his family. For the last three years it was from
there that he left it running to go to Athens for chemotherapy and it was there were he returned
straight from harbor after coming back from chemotherapy. He went home at noon with all of us
after classhours, and Christina , his wife, to see him on the morning of his return, came to school.
And as a girl of thirteen said in the first obituary on behalf of the first grade “Sir, we who were in
the classroom right across your office, felt a feeling of safety each time we heard your keys
unlock again your door…”
Anyway, let’s just say that many people in Glossa that day gave condolences not only to the
members of the family of Mados but also to each other, that is as if each had also lost a member
of his or her own family and the other too, so they gave and accepted, condolences. Students who
had him as a teacher 15 years ago and could not take a leave of absence from their jobs to
come from Athens sent to a young woman who was an ex classmate of theirs an e-mail to read
on behalf of their year’s class the following:
“Our beloved sir, we your students , express through these words our grief and our pain for our
great loss coming with your death. Recalling our childhood what first emerges is your
image.You taught us our first dancing steps. But with whom are we going to dance the Armenian
“Tamzara” now? Whom are we going to admire in Zorba dance and in Evdokia’s zeimbekiko?
We’re sure that tonight the Angels are waiting for you to dance with them. What of all shall we
first remember from you as teacher in school? Your jokes in class? Your efforts to transmit to us
your valuable knowledge in mathematics? Your agony for the development of our village? Your
insistence on our widening our horizons? Above all, what we will not forget is that, no matter
how many years passed since the time we were in school, and no matter how far we found
ourselves from our homeplace, you always cared for our progress and you were next to us to ask
for our personal problems like a second father. With your advice and your prompting you have
been, to us all, a teacher in life.
NICE TRIP TEACHER!!!!!!”
Nothing else is needed to show that some people felt Mados as a second father, some as an older
brother , some like a son, and all as fellow villager that had made school be a second family and
second home either for them themselves, or for their children or grandchildren. The obituary by
the president of the parents’ committee is impossible for me to narrate to you, I can only tell you
that that this year it was Theresa the pharmacist whom you know and that of course it was so
charged emotionally that not only she herself but almost all of her listeners were crying all along
the reading of it.
Father Alexis who had spoken first after the funeral service had spelled out the way Mados
functioned with already his first phrase: “When I came to Glossa I found the doors of the school
wide open not because Mados had any particular attachment to religious issues* but because he
had a wide open heart and an absolutely open mind and because he wanted the students of the
school to be like that too”
Even the formal goodbye that came from his official superiors in town, something that could well
be just impersonally polite ended up into a very personal tone, like also ended any person who
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knew from a close distance Mados and his offer. This “formal” goodbye was read by a teacher
who after one year near us had been transferred to Skiathos across and after reading she added on
behalf of herself , and all of us who had ever worked with Mados, the first verse of the song we
all have used in celebrations of the memorial of the day the junta tank had invaded the
Polytechnic, the verse of the song about the man in “dead man walking” situation but titled
“live man waking”: “As he was walking down the street flying like an eagle/the neighborhood
was just admiring from their windows”; now referring to the Mados in coffin paraded on
shoulders under balconies from school to church.
Some colleagues did not have time to make it on a working day, some e-mailed me pages to read
in church if I could get a chance, a teacher who had once said that this school was only like
schools she had read about, not like schools she had ever seen, sent me four pages, to read even a
small portion of them . I was very impressed by her pinpointing “The reason that the school of
Glossa became for all of us who passed from there both a station and a lighthouse was that Mados
knew how to make others discover and give their best self ” . I was trying to write something on
the bus I was riding to go to the ship but having lived there for 11 years was bringing so many
memories and points to make to both me and our ex student Kostas who, in the next seat, was
also coming for the funeral, that soon I had 7 more pages to go with no hope to remove or
underline anything, every time I looked at them things were added not removed. In Glossa I told
to Dina our ex landlady and her husband Christos who were hosting me “What can I ever say out
of all that comes to mind and of all the pages I was sent? Mados is an endless story, you can talk
for hours about him. The soul of the school, and what soul! S-O-U-L with all letters capital! If
the school is a ship then Mados is the engine towing it, and quite an engine this was” “Ships
without an engine remain tied at harbor” Christos said, and Dina said “You won’t even need the
pages. At that moment you’ll just speak from your heart”. And this really happened finally. With
the speeches I was hearing more was coming but suddenly instead of adding I subtracted all, I
left all pages in my pocket, did not open a single one,and I just said other things:
“…About Mados where can one begin or end? Besides, if someone’s works themselves talk about
him then words are redundant since, while they live, their presence is within everything they
create to offer, and, when they die, their absence is felt as becoming orphan, felt
by all, both by their family and by everybody who had become family with them. And there are
so many in Glossa, as we’ve just heard, who feel Mados is a piece of them like their own family’s
persons are! We saw the recent students of the school consider him a second father, the older
graduates consider him an older brother. And they consider him this in all issues, not just in the
ones concerning the school where now their children go as they themselves once went. Not just
in issues concerning education or university entrance exams but also cultural or administrative
issues of the village and issues of celebrations, festivities and jubilations and also issues of grief
or disaster in which Mados would always be present to contribute with his experience, his knowhow, his passion, his enthusiasm, his ideas, his love for everything he happened to be doing, and,
above all, his immense and untiring forces that were coming out of his immense energy and his
immense love for the children and for the school and for the village, or rather for all the three
villages whose kids come to this school, he never discriminated between Glossa, Loutraki, Elios,
after all he was from Elios, it was Christina , his wife, that was from Glossa. To see how great
was Mados’ energy , and the love that put it in action, let’s only think that in the three years he so
lionheartedly fought with cancer he never , for a moment, stopped thinking about the kids and
the school, and that he signed his retirement only twenty days ago, when consecutive infections
gave him signal that maybe no more postponement was ahead, or, even if there was some, he
would need longer and more frequent periods of absence, not just a couple of days every two or
three months, and so the school would need another head, and that’s why traveling to Athens this
last time he showed his son Christos where in the school’s hard disk he had its several archives
so that he could show it to his successor. For three years along with his own battle he thought of
school as much as before, from what needed repair and what time he should turn on central
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heating at school in the morning, to whether he would find enough teachers for evening coaching
school, and which museum or which folk art exhibition in Athens or anywhere else in Greece he
would take the kids to as an excursion either because they had not already been there or because
the exhibits were renewed; the kids of Athens who have all those things right near have not seen
half or one third of the ones the kids from here have been to, that’s why some girls have told me
that when they make new friends in the univerisites around Greece and exchange impressions and
memories with them, when other girls see their photo albums that are three times as thick they
ask “when did you find time to go to all of these places?” Whatever he thought would be a
stimulus or a source of joy to the kids he took pains to bring them to it or it to them, for example
we all remember how , when he heard that Papastefanou the veteran of new wave lyrics and of
radio had a group available to visit schools and set up local radio stations he called them over for
two days and nights of radio events organized here through co-operaton of that group and the
kids. Even when in Athens for chemotherapy, if the next day was a weekend he went around
Athens to see what’s new in the planetarium, or the exhibitions to see if time had come to bring or
send the kids again; but he preferred to be with them himself because his heart was not only a
lion’s but a kid’s too and he liked to play and laugh along with them, whether football or in
taverns or fun parks. And he never limited himself to organizing fun events, he always took part
in them all the way; even the diagnosis of his lung cancer, three years ago, took place the Tuesday
after the Carnival’s Sunday, on Sunday, still unsuspecting, he was dancing disguised in the square
and he had his first blood spitting, on Monday it was another holiday he didn’t want to spoil for
himself or anybody else so Tuesday he went to the doctor and was told to go to Athens with the
next boat. But in the next August’s dancing part of the Loizos memorial festivities in the
schoolyard he did not remain at rest. He choreographed the show and he trained the dancers
himself. And on the same event the year after that , this is the August before the last one, he did
not only choreograph and trained but was also on stage himself and led even the most intense part
of the dancing, and he himself was wondering how, in a post midnight outing too that night he
found the energy to dance again. Who among the viewers of the DVD of that night’s schoolyard
would ever think he was in the 2nd year chemotherapy of a cancer that could not take surgery?
Before becoming a headmaster, when he was still only mathematician, he again was
indefatigable. The first time around, of the university entrance exams of the new type, he sent the
kids home the night before so that they could get some rest and absorb better and told them to
come at 5:30 next morning fresh for some finishing details and then for a break of relaxation
before exams real start at 8:30. He became a headmaster ten yeas ago, but even before that he
was telling us of his dream to make this a model school, but none of us had a hint of what he
meant because we all associated that expression with its usual meaning of very competitive
ranking in entrance results that we knew since young from Athens’ schools, usually private with a
few, not more that two or three, public too, having a tradition of decades. He meant what he said
not in the sense of “eventully” or “gradually” model but in a way we all realized upon the first
Sunday his direction started. We heard loud dancing music and student dance-shouts and joyshouts from a large classroom were he had started dance lessons , choreogrphing and training.
Before saying what his philosophy of education was I’ll mention what we all know, the many
distinctions in dance contests all over Greece that our school got. In detail I’ll stay at one of them
in Larissa, the choreography he called “Nickolas the fisherman” which is also the one he himself
danced that last August we said he danced. But its first staging was in Larissa with the students.
Its music was played live by the ex students Thodoris , his son and his classmate Tasos,
Despoina, then sixteen, doing the singing herself. They got the 2nd prize in Thessaly and
whoever sees the video of that notices two very characterisitic things: Hearing the audience’s
whisting and claps accompanying the music and dance on stage one thinks that the audience is
full of people from Glossa who are in spirits or in support, whereas the only person from Glossa
are the people on stage, and Mados’ Christina who is taking the scenes on video so cannot
possibly clap. It’s the general audience itself that has gone to high spirits. The other thing is that
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many people wrote to our school a letter saying things like “It’s you who should have taken the
first prize” or “Thank you for making us optimistic by seeing things like that still happening” or
“only with schools like that can we maintain our folk poetry and folk music and all our
traditions”. Let’s also add that when at some point a local newspaper wrote they were nostalgic
of the time when great professional singers of Greece were invited to our island to perform
whereas the new mayor could not afford that, Mados canceled that conclusion on the very next
day by writing to them a catapult type of answer: “Let’s not stay only at the first counter
argument that comes to mind, that affording such expense the previous time emptied the culture
fund and now it can’t be repeated. Lets go deeper: Those artists were very significant and we
thank them for coming, but cultural development means first of all helping the local talents be
discovered and cultivated and not bring ready made talents with ready made money from funds’
packets and loans. Let the writers of that article ask themselves in what way Syros the perfect
bouzouki player was made to immigrate to Paris after having taught perfect bouzouki to
generations of kids from all four villages of this island, and in what way Patsis who taught
theater to generations of students here was made to go work in the most prestigious theater school
of Athens although he did prefer to work with us here. It’s not talents like the great singers, whom
the article mentioned, that we should be nostalgic about since at least them themselves were not
lost. It’s our talents here that were lost and what we should be nostalgic about is the talents we
drove out while they were creating more talents”
So Mados made this school not only quite model but also quite original, since it did not resemble
any of the model schools we read about in books or see on TV. It was Mados himself the school
resembled to, so Mados did not need to find something to imitate.
The way in which in our faculty meetings he could say in just one phrase what kind of school he
had in mind was the following: “The way I like the school to be is to be buzzing all day long like
a beehive, or even late after dark. I want the kids to feel the school as their home. To be coming
in the evening for office hours, for rehearsals, for lessons in painting and hagiography, for
bouzouki or guitar or for byzantine church music, for traditional dancing, for rock for aerobic
dancing, for taekwondo, for basketball or soccer, for dating, that’s why I let lights over the tiers
on until late, we pay a somewhat higher bill but at least have fewer worries about what levels
dating will remain at…” So he took everything into considederation. Here I only mentioned
things available through youngmen who have a specialty but not a job, and can offer courses at
minimal fees, almost purely symbolic, since they don’t have to pay rent once the school offers its
classrooms free of charge. Can kids in the city have all of these options? They have to have
parents who are millionaires to afford all that and who would also afford a chauffeur, or become
one, to take them around all those evening activities in safety and speed. But in what way
Mados became a station and a lighthouse for all of us as pinpointed by the colleague who wrote
from fellow-Sporades-Island in the Aegean, Skyros, and who in her two years here collaborated
with colleagues in all those rock concert and folk music concerts and aerobic dancing, rock
dancing and tango dancing events of Marathonian lenghths and 18 months of rehearsals? How did
Mados made us all try to find and offer our best selves? Like she pinpointed the question she
also pinpointed the answer: he made it by the simplest amd most self-evident way: By making
himself example in deed and not in words; the example of indefatigable diligence and continuous
love and care for the kids; thus motivating us too towards same things while a the same time
showing us aspects of the kids and potentialities of the school we had not thought of. So it was
by example rather than with orders, and with not even directions, and also by taking upon himself
many of the routines so as to have us free to take over more creative and essential activities. Thus
he didn’t assign them in the cut-throat way of a bureaucrat or technocrat nor in the handwaving
theoretical way of a culture freak. It was through example and through telling us to gather every
now and then in a tavern or in his house to sit togethter or cook together, discuss all together or in
smaller groups, eat and drink together and joke together, sing and dance together and so our
group got more and more tied and the staff rented rooms around school and lived, irrespective of
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each one’s age, a second common dormitory age after the first one of our student years, instead
of going to rent a house in the largest village of the island to have more options of night life in
bars rather than at houses of each other. By staying at the village we did not oly get tied to each
other, we didn’t not only have idylls and marriages, but we also got tied with our studenrs whom
we saw day and night, or saw their names on tablets over the doors of the stores and shops all of
which belonged, of course, to their parents and grandparents. So we too became family with our
students. And the school, as operated by Mados, freely and belovedly, became such a place that
kids who had graduated and had not yet left for elsewere, came to its doorsteps for months every
morning earlier than even the days where they would be marked absent if late. And if they
entered a classroom their eyes watered from the memories that were coming flooding”.
All this was said by Mados in a, brief again, phrase “First the things that remain” and he
explained “To whoever does feel like setting himself to work hard you’ll give stimuli and hard
problems to enter higher schools. But high school isn’t a coaching school, neither is life itself
only about higher schools either. First the things that remain:The songs, the dances, the love
between fellow students growing up together for the rest of their lives,together in joys and
celebrations and feasts and sorrows and catastrophes and funerals. That’s what remains”
So he decided to bring back the gymnastic high school events of June which started as single day
and in two or three years became a whole week of cultural events since professors full of
incentive, energy and imagination took over, along with their students, self-propelled and selfcreating projects in athletics, dance , concerts, photography, constructions, painting,
lectures…Quite often each of these days lasted up to five hours and finally ended up with dancing
of all the village coming down for the tiers to the ground of the schoolyard. And all of this started
with the following simple thought of Mados “Colleagues, soon the kids will write their exams,
some will pass some will fail some will come for a make-up in September. If they don’t do well,
then what will they have to remember from this academic year? Is school supposed to be only a
place for taking courses? As we have said, first comes what remains.Once we used to have these
June events that were abolished because they served the goals of the junta propaganada. So why
can’t we do them again but with a different rationale? I wait for your proposals……Thank your
for your ideas. End of faculty meeting, have a nice afternoon”. So that was the way the school
became what it is and when the kids see a DVD from some school event their eyes water. And I
don’t mean only the eyes of girls or of the youngest kids, the ones of 13, but also of the tough
among the guys of the graduating class of 18. Once, before 4 years it was I think, I remember all
of them starting to cry when Dimitris the literature professor, after a concert with the chorus and
after the solos of Despoina, sang himself, as solo, with his guitar, the song going like “For the
edge of the world if you tell me you’re leaving/you’ll be mine in your dreaming/and together
we’ll be…” and suddenly he voice trembled or even cracked as he saw on the tiers all the
graduating class in tears. Obviously their, all, being so moved was not due to the meaning of the
lyrics of the original song that were being said to a man by a woman in love but to the fact that at
that moment the school had become live, it had acquired flesh and blood and had found a voice
and was singing to us that even if we leave for the edge of the world we would belong to it in our
dreams and that it and we would be always together…Since then many-many of us have felt just
like that since the school became as we said not only a station but our lighthouse. But who of us
all could have thought that, on the next Carnival, would be ill the pillar of all that who was the
soul of the school and our living lighthouse, and that four years after that, today, we would be
here, in effect singing to him the same verse we then felt the school singing to us, that is what we
are saying now is like singing to Mados “Even if you leave beyond the edge of the world you
will always be ours, we will always be together” meaning that as long as we live he will always a
piece of each of us.
At the beginning of last summer Glossa became orphan once more when she lost Nikos
Angeletos, in brief Nick, who died ahead of time in an absolutely trivial accident that led him to
a blow at a very unlucky point that left him a plant for forty days before he died. Glossa mourned
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him as she also mourned together with the families of the youngsters between 20 and 25 who, one
after the other, were lost either of cancer or of accidents in the last few years. Nikos and Mados
differed by only two or three years, they had been happy to have made wonderful families and to
have offered to the village, each in a different way, things that made them both so beloved that
all felt them as people of their own family, irrespective of kinship or political affiliations. When
Mados went to see Nick in the hospital Nick had recovered consciousness but was paralyzed from
neck down. But we all still hoped. His older daughter Vaso had been with him and told Mados
that he had asked her “Will we go for coffee Vaso?”. Mados heard it and entering with eyes
watering, asked him “Will we go watering Nick?” referring to the watering of their gardens of
vegetables that they often enjoyed doing together talking, first the one’s garden then the other’s.
Nick’s eyes watered too with the watering Mados reminded him. At that point the tears of both
were still tears of hope. Now, as Father Alexis here at our side, will be thinking, Mados and
Nikos are watering together in Paradise; in Paradise as they were both thinking of Paradise: as
garden. And, indeed, as I have read or heard somewhere, in the languae of the Bible that’s what
Paradise meant: Garden.
All of us, from where we stand, say to them “Water together and be eternally happy and we will
remember you forever, that is until we too come to find you again from a close distance”
The obituary read in church ends here. But the teacher’s letter about it continues: Before we see a
photograph with the kids beaming from joy around Mados after their being prized in Larissa let’s
see a photograph of them two, Nikos and Mados, that feels as if Nikos is getting ready to
welcome Mados approaching Paradise, and also let’s see Mados’ last unsuspecting photo and the
next year’s too”.
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53
54
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Let’also go to a, literally epi-taph (=on grave), event that caused incessant nervous laughther to its few eyewitnesses and to all who heard about it from them , nothing is improper in narrating it , the only bad thing
is that Mados missed it, and it’s a pity because he would have roared with his most immense laughther if he
had lived to witness it but it was right next to his grave: The father of a boy and two girls who were all
students of ours, was helping with shoveling earth into Mados’ grave and, sweating, he leant on the next
grave to have a rest. But since, of course, nobody would ever jump on the earth shoveled into graves to
make it dense and thus it might stay thin, the marbles yielded and he found himself face down in to
somebody else’s grave and, since the marbles got a thorough shake, the big cross too got detached and fell
upon him as if to finalize this new entombment. Kostas and your friend Niki, his mother, who after the
burial of Mados had stayed a while to take care of the tomb of Niki’s mother who had recently died, saw
the scene and went into nervous laughter (actually me and George, the younger brother of Iro* heard of all
this from Kostas in the boat and bus with which we were returning to Athens after the funeral. And of
course we too contacted nervous laughter) .
*…We will soon see them again
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Nick era marinero como un hombre joven y viajó alrededor del mundo, luego se convirtió en
agricultor y también Pastor, y más tarde apicultores que vendían su miel recorrer toda Grecia a
partir de Glossa, luego aprendió a publicar en la web y también se convirtió en un blogger y sus
historias y chistes y fotografías de escenas y de la naturaleza hizo su blog tiene una audiencia de 6
mil lectores en algunos meses, publicó como "Nick los apicultores" entonces volvió a "Nick elviticultor" porque se convirtió en uno. Él solía decir de sí mismo "la razón me convertí en
apicultores era que yo quiero conducir por todas las aldeas venta de miel y escuchar en las
historias de cafés de otros ancianos demasiado, no sólo a los de café de Glossa". Entonces,
convirtiendo a sesenta él también era describir esto como "tan despreocupado como perro de un
sacerdote", lo que significa que los perros de los sacerdotes son nunca hambre puesto que ofrenda
panecillos están siempre en suficiencia que los repuestos para los perros también lo tienen como
su única preocupación, pasando de una casa a otro la yarda y tumbarse al sol allí también, la
razón se fue convirtiendo en cada vez más despreocupado era que veía a sus dos hijas,
encontrando su camino en la vida cada uno un fantástico y más querido traductor profesional en
dos idiomas y el otro, que también había ayudado a estudiar al convertirse en un payaso para
fiestas infantiles, había sido concedida una becas para ir a España y estudiar la organización de
eventos culturales en pueblos y ciudades. (Así, Aristides, tenemos más cosas para discutir! No
hay prisa) También fue un comunista apasionado. Una vez, como planeaba invitar a sus amigos a
su choza en un campo que tenía en un bosque para una estela en la que asado y beber y esperar
por el canto de la nightngales que tiene lugar en la madrugada, iba al pueblo a comprar algunas
aves de corral para la fiesta y también que él mismo examinado su glaucoma, era rutina para él, él
no hacer arreglos para que alguien lo después él tenía gotitas que difuminan la vista en ambos
ojos y salir en tráfico de la ciudad que tuvo un accidente ridículo en el que, sin embargo, caer,
golpeó la parte posterior de su cuello en una acera, permanecieron paralizado del cuello hacia
abajo por cuarenta días y murió. Sus amigos, desde Atenas, tomar el barco para ir a su funeral
fueron unos cincuenta. A su paso antes de la mañana de su funeral, su casa completa, como
también el área alrededor de él y algunos susurros de fuera de su casa tal vez llegado a oídos del
padre Alexis, iba como "pero Nick tendrá un entierro cristiano?" "Pero no era Nick comunista?"
"Pero no communsits los ateos?" "Pero no era Christ comunista?". Todo esto fue interrogado en
el espíritu "Diosito, todos hemos escuchado que gente de afiliaciones de Nick no va al Paraíso,
pero en su caso por favor, echa un vistazo y verás que harás una excepción; o al menos llamar a
alguno de nosotros como testigos, nos garantizaría todos para él" .Al día siguiente, en la iglesia,
alrededor de su ataúd abierto, sus amigos dijo varias cosas, entre que algunos versos por Nick
fueron leídos por una fila más alta recién jubilada internacional Banca a oficial que regresaba
cada vez más a menudo a su pueblo de lugar de nacimiento y recientemente había hecho un CD
de canciones había compuesto con su guitarra se, y que más tarde música algunos de los poemas
de Nick demasiado. Cuando todo terminó padre Alexis dijo "Nick y yo pertenecen a dos
diferentes campos. Mi líder no es aquel que diría "este chico es uno de nosotros, así que déjalo",
por lo que creo Nick está ahora en los brazos de Dios, y que algún día conoceré lo allí. Nick era
un investigador y filósofo y seguro habrá le pidió a Dios que todo lo que me había pedido y no
recibió una respuesta, y si él no respuestas de Dios aceptado tampoco, él podrá volver a preguntar
cuando nos encontramos. Y Dios que escuche a nosotros para divertirse. Y vuelve a empezar la
charla con la frase de apertura siempre utilizada por Nick: "incluso si eres un sacerdote, si dices
cualquier mierda te diré que aquí y ahora". Cuando está fuera de la iglesia, antes de que todos
comenzaron a caminar hasta el cementerio, personas iban a Alexis padre diciendo "Sacerdote de
Bravo!", "Esto fue tan precisa y tan repentino que pensábamos que vimos Nick saltando de su
ataúd y decirle este directamente a la cara", "Era como si él vivió un minuto más". En la época de
manifestaciones en todo el mundo contra la invasión de Irak Nick escuchó algunos maestros
dicen los europeos no Únete y respondieron de la siguiente tabla de café "por qué no? Sus líderes
no son descendientes de inquisidores, piratas y comerciantes de esclavos? ". La semana que
viene, por una gran coincidencia, un periódico escribió que un gran bisabuelo de Tony Blair y su
57
esposa eran pirata y comerciantes de esclavos o viceversa, y, para molestar a Nick, yo le dije "ojo
de buey Nick. Pero usted no diría que para los franceses también harías?" "Por qué? ¿Debido a su
revolución? Ésos Francés habían seguido Napoleón a Rusia, de donde regresó solo. Los franceses
presentes vienen de lisiados que ejército no proyecto y así no seguir Napoleón y luego fueron
follando novias y las viudas de los revolucionarios". A se burlan y causar más respuestas que dijo
"Pero nosotros los griegos, gracias a Dios, son descendientes de héroes y sabios" "héroes fueron
quemados en pincho, por compañeros griegos me refiero, no enemigos, y sabios dieron veneno
para beber por conciudadanos. Sabes cuyos descendientes somos?" ¿""Quién? ¿"Recordar la
historia donde el ateniense apodado"Aristides el justo"fue condenado al ostracismo de la ciudad?
Alguien pidió que no lo sabía "votar exilio o permanecer por él" respondió "Exilio" "pero lo
sabes?" "No, no" "por qué?" "Porque no puedo escuchar, todo el dia, gente refiriéndose a im
como"Justo". Es por eso"y eso es que desdendants que somos". Una de las historias que había
publicado bajo el título "La mujer en pantalones" fue el siguiente que había oído como una
historia aún más antes de su madre que llegó a noventa y todavía estaba bailando en carnaval,
recuerdo su yo, y que en su juventud fue enviado a un americano griego en una nave de novias
jóvenes y en Estados Unidos fue a la escuela pero obtuvo un divorcio porque su marido no era
plan de regreso ya y lo casó una segunda vez en el pueblo y tenía Nick. En eso publicó historia
una mujer muy hermosa joven fue la comidilla de todos los hombres en el pueblo y estaba recién
casada con un marinero que en algún momento a un largo viaje. Por envidia algunas mujeres
querían destruirla y comenzaron diciendo a alguien que estaba en amor wih él y también
diciéndole que estaba enamorado de ella y finalmente, a cada uno, que el otro sería suicidarse si
niegan una cita y uno se fijó finales midnigt afer, y por razones de secreto que llevaba pantalones
como cada mujer adúltera salir de casa usaría para no ser notado como mujer caminando por la
noche; pero los planificadores malos habían arreglado para una coincidencia en que el culpable
ser cogido, y cuando la marcha griega picota-analógica, proyectando alrededor desnudo en un
burro, alcanzó su punto más alto, que por supuesto estaba pasando frente a la casa de persona
ridiculizado, que en este caso significó la casa eran vivía con su suegro viudo, hubo una gran
sorpresa: Consiguió hacia fuera con una escopeta, tiro al aire, dijeron los cuervos para perderse y
tomó a su nuera dentro y nunca mencionó esa noche, y nadie se atrevió nunca de decirle a su
marido un toque cuando regresó porque tenían miedos de su suegro. Nick sacó de la manga y
sombrero teorías e historias todo el tiempo y Christos, el padre de nuestro amigo Kostas, que
estudia Economía aquí...(el actor y bailarín que vimos hace un tiempo)..., OK, Christos que era un
mecánico de la nave y se desplaza a menudo en la misma nave con Nick, nos dijo que un apodo
que tenía en las naves fue "canto-gale", lo que probablemente significa que estas teorías e
historias fueron tomadas por la mayoría como canto constante y más como una música que como
reflexión... También hizo un montón de lectura, ambos libros sugeridos por personas que él
estima y libros que él mismo descubrió por "googlear", más a menudo bastante impresionante.
Una vez, en respuesta a un bote de miel regalo él había dotado me le di un libro de Lewis
Mumford que fue fue traducido y publicado por Vassilis mitad una nuestra de coche de nosotros.
Una vez que Nick, conducir un coche averiado, me vio en la calle y me invitó a dar un paseo en la
colina. Me dijo que en el asiento delantero estaba sentado junto a él, hace un tiempo estaba
sentado su oveja y también vi libro de Mumford en el piso. Nick me dijo "no te preocupes.
Obviamente, eso significa que he leído le porque lo llevo conmigo en mi jornada. Si lo había
visto en los estantes de mi biblioteca que podría haber utilizado solamente como muebles o
decoración. Vi a punto del escritor que la fuente de la democracia es la organización de la aldea
neolítica y su comentario sobre la observación de Aristóteles que existe realmente una
democracia no puede tener una ciudad con más personas que pueden reunirse en un lugar donde
si uno habla en voz alta que pueda ser escuchado por todos los demás, y así todos pueden decidir
juntos. Y si hay más personas que luego deben ir establecer una nueva ciudad, una hija-ciudad y
comenzar de nuevo. También ordenó un libro y encontrar otro comentario en la fuente de la
democracia. En vez de Homer los escudos eran estrechos y podrían proteger sólo sus titulares
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individuales. En la época de Atenas se habían vuelto más ancha para proteger también el combate
junto al titular y en las formaciones en las que practicaron y luchó, siempre se tuvo cuidado de
tener gente de todas las clases y los ingresos. Ahora te imaginas si ricos y pobres están
conectados de manera tan profunda como saber muy directamente que la supervivencia depende
de la otra en la vida momentos tan cruciales como la batalla? ". Nick me dijo muchas cosas sobre
la sociología de las abejas en behives, pero estaba firme en no venir a decirles a los estudiantes en
la clase también. "Decirles. Y no en nombre de mí que me dicen. Estudiantes asignan un papel
diferente a cada uno de nosotros de la manera que nos respeten y debemos respetar demasiado.
Rememeber cómo pensabas en su edad. No dejes que el valor que tiene en sus ojos de su título
universitario y también se menciona a ellos por sus padres nivelarse con las cosas que sabemos
que los aficionados de lectura libre y de nuestra experiencia de trabajo. No mezclar los dos, se va
a confundir sus valores". Más que todos los pensadores que le dije, Nick admirado al biólogo
Konrad Lorenz; por la forma mezcla dos mundos totalmente diferentes: haber enseñado filosofía
en la silla de Kant en Königsberg y después de haber vivido toda su vida con los animales
recorrer libremente en su finca con el fin de estudiar, o incluso a "conversar" con, no en las
condiciones de la jaula desde un ser humano en una jaula durante décadas no sería un ser humano
realmente...Para Lorenz, que era un co-ganador del Nobel para el establecimiento de la ciencia de
la etología, que estudia animales en esas condiciones naturales, y que describió a él cuando él
publicó una historia con un cuadro de diálogo del hombre con un cuervo como crítica a nuestro
universo de anhropocentic, fue la respuesta de Nick "Un gigante! Ahora usted está hablando a mí
un literal gigante!" Otra cosa, dijo el padre Alexis fue "Nick fue un pensador, un filósofo, un
cajero de cuento y un consolador de las almas. Nuestra última reunión fue justo en frente de esta
iglesia. Había llegado tener una mejor señal en mi celular.Él dijo "¿por qué no dejas nos sentimos
que tenemos un sacerdote tradicional? ¿Qué más vamos a ver que tiene? UN PC?" Y él tenía esa
chispa sonriente en su ojo.
Aristides, lo que usted vio fue una carta que le escribí a Hernan. Hernan respondió "Estimado
Ioannis, has cometido un error. Usted escribió que la nave a funeral de Nick tenía cincuenta
amigos de Nick. Tenía cincuenta y uno. Yo también estaba en él. E inclinó mi sombrero al Padre
Alexis cuando lo vi en el pueblo"
PS: Aristides, si Nick aún viviera, esta foto sería su respuesta y saludo a su saludo entre los olivos de su
segundo enlace.
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Nick was sailor as a young man and traveled all around the world, then he became a farmer, and
also shepherd, and later a bee-keeper who sold his honey driving around all Greece starting from
Glossa, then he learned how to post on the web and also became a blogger, and his stories, and
jokes and photographs of scenes and of nature made his blog have an audience of six thousand
readers in some months, he posted as “Nick the bee-keeper” then he turned it to “Nick the-vinegrower” because he became one. He used to say of himself “the reason I became a bee-keeper
was that I want to drive around all villages selling honey and hearing in the cafés stories from
other old people too,not only from the ones in Glossa’s café”. Then , turning sixty he was also
describing this like “as carefree as a priest’s dog” , meaning that priests’ dogs are never hungry
since oblation bread rolls are always in sufficiency to have spare ones for dogs too, so they have
as their only concern going from one house’s yard to another’s and lie in the sun there too, the
reason he was becoming more and more carefree was that he could see his two daughters finding
their way in life one becoming a fantastic and most wanted professional translator in two
languages and the other , who had also helped herself to study by becoming a clown for children
parties, had been awarded a scholarhip to go to Spain and study the organization of cultural
events in villages and towns. (Thus, Aristides, we have more things to discuss! No hurry) He was
a passionate communist too. Once, as he was planning to invite his friends to his hut in a field he
had in a forest for a wake in which they would roast and drink and wait for the nightngales’s
singing which takes place at dawn, he went to town to buy some poultry for the feast and also
have himself examined for his glaucoma, it was routine for him, he didn’t arrange to have
someone lead him after he had droplets that blurred sight in both eyes and getting out in town’s
traffic he had a ridiculous accident in which, however, falling, he hit the back of his neck on a
sidewalk, remained paralyzed from neck down for forty days and died. His friends , from Athens
only, taking the ship to go to his funeral were about fifty. In his wake , his house was full, as also
was the area around it, and some whispers from outside his house maybe reached the ears of
Father Alexis, going like “But will Nick have a Christian burial?” “But wasn’t Nick a
communist?” “But aren’t communsits atheists?” “But wasn’t Christ a communist?”. All this was
asked in the spirit “Dear God, we all have heard that people of Nick’s affiliations do not go to
paradise, but in his particular case please take a closer look and you’ll see that you’ll make an
exception; or at least call some of us as witnesses, we would all guarantee for him” Next day, in
the church, around his open coffin, his friends said several things, among which some verses by
Nick were read by a newly retired highest rank international banking official who was returning
more and more often to his birthplace village and had recently made a CD of songs he had
composed on his guitar there, and who later put to music some of Nick’s poems too. When all
finished Father Alexis said “Nick and I belong to two different camps. My leader is not one who
would say “this guy is one of us, so let him in”, so I believe Nick is now in the arms of God, and
that one day I’ll meet him there. Nick was a inquirer and philosopher and will sure have asked
God all that he had asked me and did not get an answer, and if he hasn’t accepted God’s answers
either, he’ll ask me again when we meet. And God will sure listen to us to have fun. And our talk
will start again with the opening phrase always used by Nick: “Even if you’re a priest, if you say
any bullshit I’ll tell you so here and now” . When out of the church, before all started walking to
the cemetery, people were going to Father Alexis saying “Bravo priest!” ,“This was so accurate
and so sudden that we thought we saw Nick jumping out of his coffin and telling you this straight
to your face” ,“It was as if he lived one more minute”. In the time of worldwide demonstrations
against the invasion of Iraq Nick had heard some of us teachers say that Europeans wouldn’t join
and answered from the next café table “Why won’t they? Are their leaders not descendants of
inquisitors, pirates and slave traders?”. Next week, by a great coincidence, a newspaper wrote
that one great great grandfather of both Tony Blair and his wife were pirate and slavetrader or
vice versa, and, to tease Nick, I told him “Bull’s eye Nick. But you wouldn’t say that for the
French too, would you?” “Why? Because of their revolution? Those French followed Napoleon
to Russia from where he returned alone. The present French come from cripples that Army
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wouldn’t draft and so didn’t follow Napoleon and then were fucking the fiancées and widows of
the revolutionaries”. To tease and cause further answers I said “But we Greeks, thank God, are
descendants of heroes and sages” “Heroes were burned on skewer , by fellow Greeks I mean, not
enemies, and sages were given poison to drink by fellow citizens. You know whose descendants
we are?” “Whose?” “Remember the story where the Athenian nicknamed “Aristides the Just” was
ostracized from town? He asked somebody who didn’t know him “Did you vote exile or stay for
him” He answered “Exile” “But do you know him?” “No, I don’t” “So why?” “Because I can’t
hear, all day long, people referring to im as “Just” . That’s why” And that’s whose desdendants
we are”. One of the stories he had posted under the title “The woman in trousers” was the
following that he had heard as an even more prior story from his mother who reached ninety and
was still dancing in carnival, I remember her myself, and who in her youth was sent to a Greek
American in a ship of young brides and in US she went to school but later got a divorce because
her husband did not plan on returning anymore and so married a second time in the village and
had Nick. In that posted story a young very beautiful woman was the talk of all men in the village
and was newly married to a sailor who at some point left for a long trip. Out of jealousy some
women wanted to destroy her, and started saying to somebody that she was in love wih him and
also telling her that he was in love with her and finally, to each, that the other would commit
suicide if denied a rendezvous, and one was fixed late afer midnigt, and for reasons of secrecy
she wore trousers like every adulteress leaving home would wear not to be noticed as woman
walking at night; but the evil planners had arranged for some coincidence in which the culprit
would be caught, and when the marching Greek pillory-analog, being shown around naked on a
donkey, reached its highest point, which of course was passing in front of the ridiculed person’s
own house, which in this case meant the house were she lived with her widowed father-in-law,
there was a great surprise: He got out with a shotgun, shot in the air, told the crows to get lost and
took his daughter-in-law inside and never mentioned that night to her, and nobody ever dared tell
her her husband a hint when he returned because they were afraid of her father-in-law. Nick got
out of sleeve and hat theories and stories all the time and Christos, the father of our friend Kostas,
who studies economics here …(the actor and dancer we saw a while ago) …, OK, Christos who
was a ship mechanic and would often travel in the same ship with Nick, told us that a nickname
he had on ships was “chirping-gale”, probably meaning that these theories and stories were
taken by most as constant chirping and more like a music than like food for thought… He also did
a lot of reading , both books suggested by people he esteemed and books he discovered himself
by googling, most often quite impressive. Once, in response to a honey-can gift he had gifted me
I gave him a book by Lewis Mumford who was was translated and published by Vassilis half an
our’s drive from us. Once Nick, driving a wrecked car, saw me in the street and invited me for a
ride on the hill. He told me that in the front seat I was sitting next to him, a while ago was sitting
his ewe and I also saw Mumford’s book on the floor. Nick told me “Don’t worry. That obviously
means that I do read him because I take it with me in my working day. If you had seen it in my
library’s shelves it might have been used only as furniture or decoration. I saw the writer’s point
the source of democracy is the organization of the neolithic village, and his comment on
Aristotle’s remark that for democracy to really exist one cannot have a town with more people
than can gather in a place where if one speaks loud he can be heard by all the rest, and so all can
decide together. And if there are more people than that then they should go establish a new town,
a daughter-town, and start anew. I also ordered a book and found another comment on the
source of democracy. In Homer’s time the shields were narrow and could protect only their
individual holder. In the time of Athens they had become wider to also protect the fighter next to
the holder and in the formations in which they practiced and fought, care was always taken to
have people from all classes and incomes. Now can you imagine if rich and poor are connected in
ways as deep as knowing very directly that one’s survival depends on the other’s in life moments
as crucial as battle?”. Nick also told me many things about the sociology of bees in behives, but
he was adamant in not coming to tell them to students in class too. “You tell them. And not on
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behalf of me as you tell me. Students assign a different role to each of us in the way they respect
us and we should respect that too. Rememeber how you thought in their age. Don’t let the value
that your university degree has in their eyes and is also mentioned to them by their parents be
leveled with the things we amateurs know from free reading and from our work experience.
Don’t mix the two, you’ll confuse their values” . Most than all thinkers I told him about, Nick
admired the biologist Konrad Lorenz; for the way he mixed two completely different worlds:
Having taught philosophy at the chair of Kant in Königsberg and having lived all his life with
the animals going around freely in his farm so as to be studied, or even to have “discussions”
with, not in cage conditions since a human in a cage for decades would not be a human
really…For Lorenz, who was a Nobel co-winner for establishing the science of ethology which
studies animals in such natural conditions, and whom I described to him when he posted a story
with a dialog of man with a crow as criticism to our anhropocentic universe, Nick’s answer was
“A giant! Now you are talking to me about a literal giant!” Another thing Father Alexis said was
“Nick was a thinker , a philosopher, a tale teller and a consoler of souls. Our last meeting was
right in front of this church. I had come out to have a better signal in my cell phone.He said “Why
don’t you let us feel we have a traditional priest? What else are we going to see you having? A
PC?” And he had that smiling spark in his eye.
Aristides, what you saw was from a letter thaqt I wrote to Hernan. And Hernan answered “Dear
Ioannis, you made a mistake. You wrote that the ship to Nick’s funeral had fifty friends of
Nick. It had fifty one. I too was in it. And I tilted my hat to Padre Alexis when I saw him in the
village”
PS: Aristides, if Nick still lived, this photo would be his answer and salutation to your salutation from
among the olive trees of your second link.
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………
Suzy:- pero los niños entre ellos le llaman "Taper Alexis"
Angela:-significas “Pater Alexis”, como diría cualquier griego o hay otra sorpresa que viene?
Suzy:-Johnny:
Johnny:-...Lo llaman "Pater" frente a los adultos para no mezclar dos mundos como Nick
también sugiere. "Taper" proviene de lo siguiente: Padre Alexis es un monje joven y robusto,
quien envió a un monasterio para Glossa al viejo padre Panagis de Glossa murió. Cuando la gente
de Glossa se enteró que él abandona su sueldo a favor de los pobres, mujeres de la aldea, joven y
viejo, compitió diaria que cocinará para él la comida de cada día, y les ponen ellos en formas
cónicas, poner los Cirios en bolsas y había colgado alto en cerca de su patio, para que pasar gatos
no puede alcanzarlos si saltan. Así que cada día se llevaba, y todavía selecciones, la comida que
le gusta la mejor y la otra da a los pobres, como su salario. Cuando esto empezó nuestra
estudiante del compañero Yiannis le hizo el apodo "Taper Alexis". Todos sabemos que significa
el apodo y todos sabemos por quien fue hecho pero los dos mundos de los dos nombres nunca
mezclan y nunca se confunden,
Alex:-¿Sabe usted qué dibujó Padre Alexis a la vida monástica?
Johnny:-no, pero lo que sí sabemos es que los padres que quería convertirse en un abogado, que
llegó a ser y entonces les dijo: cumplido su deseo porque te amo y te respeto como mis padres,
ahora yo también cumplirá mi deseo. Y se convirtió en un monje.
Suzy:-mamá, ¿por qué no usted lee el resto de las páginas publicado por Papá? Tengo preparado
para usted tanto en la sección sobre el otro Nick y uno sobre la primera semana de padre Alexis...
Helen: - OK, cuando como un monje joven sólo había llegado a la aldea se reunió
inmediatamente la parte difícil, no sólo la muerte de un joven, pero también la trágica muerte de
una anciana. Ella misma había colgado en su primera semana en el pueblo. Su obituario fue: "el
pecado de suicidio es considerado por la iglesia como el mayor pecado de todos ya que destruye
un don de Dios que el hombre no puede crear, se considera que tiene como pena algo que ningún
otro pecado tiene tan gran pecado: no ofrecer un servicio fúnebre a quienes lo cometen.
Pero también es el pecado para que la pena nunca se impone, ya que la iglesia se da cuenta de que
alguien llegar a que punto debe haber sido impulsado por factores empujando como nada empuja
o tira a otros pecados. Así que si alguien se pregunta por qué hoy en día tenemos un funeral
también debe preguntarse si dio la oportunidad de decirle a qué factores le estaban presionando
esta abuela. Todos no tenemos ninguna idea de por qué lo hizo y que nos dice algo.También hay
que decir hoy a nadie que en el futuro se puede establecer en mente hacer algo similar que si
encuentra con nadie para decir sus factores a, él no debe tomar el último paso sin llegar a la
iglesia para hablar de ellos " Un tiempo después, un estudiante de 17 años, murió de un accidente
de moto. Fue un gran atleta, ganando premios para las edades mayores que la suya, fue muy
popular entre las chicas y muy querida por todos los estudiantes, que estaba haciendo cosas muy
arriesgadas con su bicicleta y fuera de su alegría por ser elegido ese día por sus compañeros para
algún cargo, corría en el camino sus trucos regulares incluso en un día que sabía que una tuerca
en una rueda fue tan floja que le dijo a un amigo de suyo, que quería montar en la espalda, no
para venir a lo largo de ese día. Y literalmente rompió su cuello caer desde un acantilado en un
giro que tomaba levantada en una rueda de sólo. En el entierro de que algunos amigos de Nick
hablaban de él, también hizo su matemático … "usted sabía tenía los estudiantes llegando tarde a
mi clase de mañana tomar flexiones, sin embargo, te levantaste me tanto como te gustó porque
tenías el músculo a tomar cualquier número de flexiones que les haya gustado. ¿Cuántas flexiones
debo te tengo tomar para lo que te levantaste nosotros hoy?"... — padre Alexis dijo "amor de
Dios por cada uno de nosotros es infinito y no tiene mucho sentido decir que un infinito es mayor
que otro infinito. Sin embargo, a veces, que son finitos, al menos, sentimos que el amor infinito
de Dios para algunas personas es mayor que su amor infinito por otras personas. ¿Para que las
personas tenemos esa sensación? Para las personas que los seres humanos amamos mucho.Porque
pensamos: ¿no es hombre hecho a imagen y semejanza de Dios? ¿Entonces no es amor del
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hombre a imagen y semejanza del amor de Dios? Entonces si nosotros, los seres humanos, amar a
alguien más que otros, como todos amamos Nick, creemos que es natural y no hacernos celoso,
pensar el amor infinito de Dios para Nick es muy especial. Y también nos ayuda, a su pérdida
para saber cuánto Dios le muestran su amor infinito en este momento, aunque "momento",
"tiempo", "ahora" y todas esas palabras finitas no pueden describir cualquiera de esa relación.
Nick, en brazos de Dios ahora, no tiene un problema, tenemos un problema y su hermano, su
padre, su madre tiene un problema. Y los suyos, OK, qué otro nombre si utilizamos, su viuda... y
no sólo uno, él era muy amado, tiene un problema. Es un problema horrible, tal vez algunos no
serán capaces de soportarlo, tal vez alguien no será capaz de soportarlo, no sólo en nombre de
quien está privado de la presencia de Nick, pero en nombre de Nick que se privó de años de vida
y felicidad. Los otros cruces cerca de su cruz todos muestran que sus abuelos vivían a más de
noventa. Y es demasiado cruel saber que diecisiete años. Pero sólo podemos ser consolados de
una cosa. Que el amor infinito de Dios da felicidad infinita Nick como el amor tomara y dar en
los años ochenta al menos tenía delante de él, por lo que no está desprovisto de él. Propondré
terminar este funeral con el acabado del servicio funeral larga y especial que nuestra iglesia se
reserva por la muerte de los bebés. Cantando el himno que cantamos en Pascua de la resurrección
de Cristo"
... Aristides mi única foto de padre Alexis es después de un evento de baile tradicional frente a la
iglesia
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Crecía de 12 o 11 para con el padre Alexis y Mados
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………
Suzy:-But the kids among themselves call him “Taper Alexis”
Angela:-You mean Pater Alexis, as any Greek would say or there’s another surprise coming?
Suzy:-Johnny:
Johnny:-…They call him “Pater” in front of the grownups in order not to mix two worlds as Nick
would also suggest. “Taper” comes from the following: Father Alexis is a young and robust monk
whom a monastery sent to Glossa when old Father Panagis who was from Glossa died. When the
people in Glossa learned that he gives up his salary in favor of the poor the village’s women,
yound and old, competed everyday who will cook for him every day’s lunch, and they put them
them in tapers, put the tapers in bags and hung them high in his yard’s fence, so that passing cats
can’t reach them if they jump. So everyday he picked, and still picks, the meal he likes best and
gives the other to the poor too, like his salary. When this started our fellow student Yiannis made
him the nickname “Taper Alexis”. All know whom the nickname means and all know by whom
it was made but the two worlds of the two names never mix and are never confused,
Suzy:-That includes everybody not mentioning that in front of kindergarten kids who are too
young to know that separate things are to be separate.
Angela:-A perfect explanation…
Alex:-But can you tell us how come both of you call Nick by the name “Nick” and not “Mr Nick”
like you do with any other grown up, even us?
Suzy:-All people younger than Nick felt him like someone of their age. All people older than him
felt him as their son. With his death the village felt orphaned of a child not of a parent. Only his
daughters I think felt him as older, since he was a fine father to them.
Angela:-Another perfect explanation Alex…
Alex:-Do you know what drew Padre Alexis to monastic life?
Johnny:-We don’t, but what we do know is that is parents wanted him to become a lawyer, he
did become that, and then told them: I fulfilled your wish because I love and I respect you as my
parents, now I will also fulfill my wish. And he became a monk.
Alex:-So we now are where Helen said “we asked for it”. Right Helen?
Helen:-Right.
Suzy:-Mom, why don’t you yourself read the rest from those pages posted by dad? I have them
ready for you both the one in the section about the other Nick and the one about the first week of
Father Alexis…
Helen:- OK, when as a young monk he had just come to the village he had immediately met the
difficult part, not only the death of a youngster, but also the tragic death of an old woman. She
had hanged herself on his first week in the village. His obituary was: “The sin of suicide is
considered by the Church as the greatest sin of all since it destroys a gift from God that man
cannot create, so great a sin it is considered that it has as penalty something that no other sin has:
Not offering a funeral service to those who commit it. Yet it is also the sin for which the penalty
is never imposed , since the Church realizes that someone reaching that point must have been
driven by factors pushing as nothing pushes or pulls to other sins. So if somebody wonders why
we do have a funeral today he must also wonder whether he gave this granny the chance of telling
him what factors were pushing her. We all have no idea why she did it and that tells us
something. Also we must say today to anybody who in the future might set to mind to do a
similar thing that if he finds nobody to say his such factors to, he should not take the last step
without coming to the Church to speak about them”. A while later a student of seventeen, died of
a motorbike accident. He was a great athlete, earning prizes for ages greater than his, he was
very popular among girls and very loved by all students, he was doing very risky things with his
bike and out of his joy for being elected that day by his fellow students to some position, he
risked on the road his regular tricks even on a day he knew that a nut on a wheel was so loose that
he said to a friend of his, who wanted to ride in the back, not to come along that day. And he
literally broke his neck falling from a cliff at a turn that he was taking raised on one wheel only.
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In the funeral some friends of Nick talked of him, his mathematician also did —… “you knew I
had the students coming late to my morning class take pushups, yet you stood me up as much as
you liked because you had the muscle to take any number of pushups you liked. How many
pushups should I have you take for the way you stood us up today?”… — and Father Alexis said
“God’s love for every single one of us is infinite, and it doesn’t make much sense to say that one
infinite is greater than another infinite. Yet sometimes , we who are finite at least, feel that the
infinite love of God for some persons is greater than his infinite love for other persons. For
which persons do we have that feeling? For the persons we humans love a lot. Because we think:
Isn’t man made in the image and likeness of God? Then isn’t man’s love in the image and
likeness of God’s love? Then if we, humans, love someone more than others, as we all loved
Nick, we feel it’s natural and it doesn’t make us jealous , to think God’s infinite love for Nick is
very special. And it also helps us, to stand his loss to know how much God shows him His
infinite love right at this moment, although “moment”, “time” , “now” and all those finite words
cannot describe any of that relation. Nick, in God’s arms now, doesn’t have a problem, we have a
problem, and his brother, his father, his mother have a problem. And his , OK, what other name
should we use, his widow…and not only one, he was very loved, have a problem. It is a horrible
problem, maybe some will not be able to stand it, maybe someone will not be able to stand it not
only on behalf of himself who is deprived of Nick’s presence but on behalf of Nick who was
deprived of years of life and happiness. The other crosses near his cross show all his grandfathers
lived to more than ninety. And it’s too cruel to know he was seventeen. But we can only be
consoled of one thing. That God’s Infinite Love gives Nick infinite happiness like the love he
would take and give in the at least eighty years he had in front of him, so he is not deprived of it.
I will propose to finish this funeral with the finish of the long and special funeral service our
Church reserves for the death of infants. By singing the hymn we sing at Easter for the
Resurrection of Christ”………………….
Aristides my only photo of Father Alexis is after a traditional dancing event in front of the church
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Growing up from 12 or 11 to with Father Alexis and Mados
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En 1927 llegó a ser consciente de mí mismo y me fui alrededor de varios trabajos.
Yo estaba redactado en 1934. Fui liberado de servicio en ’36 porque intervino la revolución.
General Kamenos era un demócrata. Kondylis quería traer al rey. Que no estaban de acuerdo y
eso es cómo surgió la revolución. Duró cuarenta días, fui liberado de la obligación y volvía a
casa.
Con la ayuda de mi padre y mis ahorros compré una Goleta y comenzó a trabajar.
En ’37 quedé enganchado y en ’38 me casé. En ’40 fui a Albany a la guerra y en ’41 volví. El 17
de mayo.
Desde este punto de que inicio de mi actividad. Hasta octubre, estaba llevando a patriotas. Llevó
a Psarra y hay mayor George Kalambokas recibido.
…………Cerca de veinte páginas con acción de James Bond tipo siga*..........
El 5 de abril, a la medianoche, el bouradades ** vino, un teniente y un sargento de la gendarmería
llamado Arvanitakos. Mi padre y Arvanitakos habían reconocido mutuamente. Él era de Mani.
Sus aldeas estaban media hora distancia, mi padre de Kyta, él de Skalounous. Prometió a mi
padre, no tengas miedo no vendrá ningún daño a su hijo en mis manos, me quedo le al fiscal y de
él a la cárcel. Me llevó a Volos el 22 de febrero, me llevó a la Fiscalía. Su nombre era Kativenis y
el nombre del juez primero instancia era Manolopoulos. Me interrogaron y Manolopoulos con
Kativenis ordenó que ir a la cárcel de Rigas Fereos. Me llevaron de allí, yo estaba encerrado y el
5 de junio en 45 me enfrenté a mi primer corte marcial. Me probé por el juez militar Laganis. Yo
fui absuelto por unanimidad. Fui llevado de vuelta a la cárcel. En 1945, el 21 de septiembre, me
enfrenté a Corte Penal, que mantenía armas, cañones etc. en que yo fui absuelto con 11 votos. Me
llevaron de allí y a Trikala, en la policía. Tenía conmigo una maleta, un carcelero vino llamado
CuatroAguas, me llevó a la sala de detención. Cuando llegué VI dos hombres muertos, sangre
venía de las orejas de uno y de la nariz del otro.
Dije a mí mismo que me esperaba la misma suerte. El carcelero fue ordenado para llegar arriba.
Me llevó al comandante. Puso las esposas en mí y me llevó a su oficina. Cuando pisé, el
comandante me miró y preguntó mi nombre, que yo le dije "Evangelos Yiannopoulos de
Vasilis".Él me dice "No tienes un seudónimo?" "Tuve" "¿qué fue?" "Kanaris *** Efstathios". Él
miró a mis ojos con cuidado y se echó a reír.Inmediatamente dijo el carcelero "Quitarse las
esposas rápidamente y salir". Llevó apagado y a la izquierda. Él me ofreció un cigarrillo, habló
por teléfono y nos trajeron dos cafés. Un gendarme le dijo "quieres algo más, Señor?". Le dijo "sí.
En la sala donde gendarmes alojarse en la noche cambiarás mantas y el detenido a dormir allí.
Tener mucho cuidado, ni la nariz de este hombre debe ser lastimada""sí señor""también pondré su
maleta en la habitación y habrá una guardia fuera toda la noche. El carcelero no tendrá ninguna
responsabilidad, responsable será usted y el sargento de la gendarmería". Yo estaba extasiado con
lo que estaba oyendo, ¿cómo este hombre dice todo esto acerca de mí? ¿Qué sabe? ¿Cómo
escucho cosas tan bonitas? Al día siguiente se enfrentaría a la Corte Penal. Como estábamos
sentados en su oficina de beber el café me preguntó "Capitán Kanaris, todavía no ha reconocido
me?" Le digo "No, Señor yo no te conozco". Él era un capitán de la gendarmería. Él me dice
"siempre pasa de Chios durante la ocupación?". Le digo "que hice. Realmente la primera
embarcación que era yo. Luego vino el submarino "Iatridis" con algunos comandos". Me dice
"hiciste nada de Chios? ¿Las autoridades portuarias dio usted alguno, o archivos, para llevar a
Grecia? Le digo "sí. Tomé un joven subteniente de la gendarmería, cuyo padre era un comandante
* Destacar solamente que su esposa e hijos pequeños fueron tomadas a vivir en una montaña con sus
padres.
** Uno de los clanes de matón de la guerra civil.
*** Muchos combatientes de la resistencia utilizan como seudónimos los nombres de héroes de la
Revolución griega de 1821 contra turcos... El seudónimo de kyr Vangelis.. .era "Kanaris" un famoso
capitán de mar que había volado con explosivos el buque insignia de la flota turca... ****
**** Karaiskakis quien conocimos antes era un héroe de la montaña.
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en Chios, no recuerdo su nombre". Luego él empezó a llorar, él me abrazó y me llamó a su
Salvador. Él me dice "No te acuerdas cuando me trajo a Volos y me entregó al comandante
Kantarakias?" Ambos estábamos llorando en ese momento, nos abrazó, me llevó abajo, me
entregó al sargento de la gendarmería, le dijo que poner un guardia toda la noche fuera de mi
habitación, me dijo para cambiar de ropa, hice, fuimos al hotel y cenamos juntos y en 12 me llevó
a la comisaría Me puse en mi habitación y dormía. Al día siguiente, a las 8, llegó por él mismo,
me llamó, me vestí y seis policías me llevaron a la Corte Penal para ser juzgado. Allí estaba
intentado para tener una embarcación con cañones etc. y matando personas por armas de fuego y
similares. El Presidente de la corte era un cretense, no recuerdo su nombre, algo así como tal vez
Varouxakis. El comandante se habló y dijo que "este hombre no mató a los hombres. Salvó a los
hombres. Él me salvó también». Y yo fui absuelto con 11 votos. Otro testigo vino, había llamado
Grigorios Filios, un suboficial que sirve en Skopelos. Dijo que era yo quien liberó a la totalidad
del Egeo. Dijo que manejé a 40 italianos de Skopelos y semejantemente en Skyros. Yo fui
absuelto, el comandante me dio 5000 dracmas y cuatro policías me tomaron y él mismo dio un
archivo que lo había salvado y me mandaron a "Pavlos Melas" en Salonica. Me llevaron al
"Pavlos Melas" y al día siguiente cuatro policías me llevaron a me traslado a la prisión de
Polygyros. Después me llevaron no daban me a prisión sino a una mazmorra turca, un kilómetro
lejos de la prisión. . Me encerraron allí, era horrible, tenía tres pasos, hasta la más baja estaba
lleno de basura y residuos de agua y el lugar era apestoso. Me encerraron en y a la izquierda. En
la prisión de Polygyros hubo 250 detenidos. Tenía tres habitaciones. Uno se llamaba Varkiza, uno
de Potsdam, el otro San Francisco. En San Francisco vivían a siete hombres. General Vouros,
Coronel Kallikratidis Nicholas de San Nicolás de Chalkidiki, un Kollias Venizelos, comandante
de la gendarmería de Mytilini, profesor de teología de Salonica, su nombre no ' recuerda, un
Bolkas de Paliouri en Chalkidiki y otros dos de Chalkidiki cuyos nombres no recuerdo.Y les
notificó, el general porque cada prisión tiene su Presidente, que está llegando el capitán Kanaris.
Me esperaban y todos los días pidieron el carcelero "detenido Kanaris adónde? ¿Dónde usted
tiene le?"y dijo que"no sabemos. Le enviaron hace tres días"y de hecho el hombre no sabía.
Estaba encerrado en ese calabozo, ese horrible lugar. En el segundo día llegaron un policía y un
soldado. Me trajeron una placa de metal de los alimentos, mezclado con saliva y mocos, arrojó a
sus pies. Al tercer día me trajeron una hoja de papel y un lápiz para poner mi firma en blanco. Yo
lo y lo tiré. Y se rompió el lápiz y tiró a la basura. Entonces el soldado intentó pegarme
demasiado en el ojo con la lanza de su rifle, empujé el fusil a un lado y la lanza fue a mi nariz.
Caí sangrado, sangre fue que sale de mi boca y la nariz, que dejó pensando que me habían
matado. A través de, unos doscientos metros más allá de las alambradas, había dos tiendas con
gitanos. Empecé a gritar y un gitano joven me escuchó y fue inmediatamente a la policía.
Inmediatamente vinieron el comandante, el fiscal, el juez y un médico. Llegaron, cortaron el
cable, entraron y me llevaron a una farmacia. Se cosió mi herida y me llevó a la prisión de
Polygyros. Después de cuatro días que iba bien, me pudiera hablar, el fiscal me llamó junto con el
jefe de la policía en la oficina del jefe de los guardias de la prisión y me pidió que me había
golpeado. Así que les dije "un policía y un soldado. Que me golpeó fue el soldado". Me
preguntaron "Qué clase de lugar estaba allí?" y yo les dije "el lugar apesta. Debe haber cadáveres
en las aguas residuales". De hecho hicieron una búsqueda en el molino con eso Turco mazmorra y
encontraron un cadáver en descomposición y dos hombres asesinados en un estado horrible, por
eso ese lugar fue que apesta tanto. Me llevaron a reconocer al policía y el soldado, todas ellas
ponen en línea, pero no estaban entre los que vi. Permanecí en esa prisión hasta el 15 de marzo.
Salí de allí con la descongestión Sophoulis. Vine a mi casa y comencé a trabajar aquí y allá
porque mi familia estaba en un estado terrible. Fue en el principio de ’47. Ellos me arrestaron otra
vez en orden de detención y me llevaron a Larissa. Me quedé allí hasta 1948. El 22 de marzo de
48 me probé en corte marcial por cargos como había atrapado Artes en mar abierto, mató a los
equipos, se hundió la artesanía y tomó sus pertenencias a mi casa. Luego hubo un periódico que
sale en Volos, llamado "Anagennisi" (= regeneración) y alguien escribió allí que uno de nosotros
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es ser juzgado en Larissa para matar a equipos y hundirse caiques. Esto fue leído por dos
capitanes, uno Stavros Tsoukas de Limnos que pasó a ser en Volos y Dimitrios Paxinos de Volos.
Leyeron el libro, vieron mi nombre. Los alemanes habían tomado sus caiques y ellos dos a lo
largo también, habían cargado de botín, y les llevaban a Salonica. Yo les había cogido en
Skantzoura, consiguió su papel, también llevó a los alemanes, los llevó a mi Agrelia base y llevó
a los alemanes a Chipre. El día que yo estaba siendo juzgado llegaron como testigos sin yo
saberlo, no recuerdo la fecha. El juez militar, un coronel llamado Doganis y el abogado de juez
real, mayor George Papageorgiou, cuando me saltó a defenderme contra los cargos contra mí
formulada por el Presidente de Glossa George Mitziliotis y su Consejo, el momento se
levantaron, el juez militar me preguntó si tenía un abogado o un testigo de la defensa. Yo le dije
"Tengo testigos ni abogado ni defensa". Inmediatamente se levantó un abogado, su nombre era
Antonios Sitras y él era un sobrino de Plastiras. Inmediatamente dijo "Señor, yo soy su abogado y
tiene dos testigos que son capitanes cuyas caiques, los alemanes habían tomado y cargado con el
botín y él cogió los alemanes y los llevaron a Chipre" el juez militar inmediatamente los llamó y
les interrogó y dijeron que todas estas cosas eran mentiras de odio, porque este hombre había
liberado a todas las islas. ¿Qué caiques él fregadero? ¿Que los hombres mató? Eran todas
mentiras. Yo fui absuelto pero yo estaba recluido en la prisión.
Mi esposa fue detenida el 13 de octubre de 1948. Se le ató los pies detrás de una Goleta y le
arrastró a 8 millas por hora alrededor del puerto. Uno de ellos se jactó: "la mujer que estamos
arrastrando es esposa del capitán Kanaris. El capitán, George Houlis, siendo un amigo mío, sacó
un cuchillo lentamente y en la oscuridad de la noche, cortar la cuerda y gritó "chicos, la mujer se
ahogaron y ella se quedó atascada en la parte inferior. La cuerda se rompió".Había un guardia en
el puerto, Ioannis Karvelis y el Inspector de aduanas, Christos Politis, mis dos amigos. Cada uno
tiraron una vez y el capitán gritó "chicos, es su marido. Voy a matar todos nosotros". Enseguida
dejaron de Skiathos. La mujer, lograda nadar porque la cuerda atada alrededor de sus piernas era
un poco floja. Ella alcanzó una manualidad y agarró una parte de hierro y gritó "ayuda". En la
nave se vivieron un par, Vasilis Orfanos y su esposa Dimitra. Inmediatamente que se apodera de
ella y tomaron a bordo pero su cabeza y su cuerpo entero estaban llenos de sangre, el mar estaba
teñido de rojo, le habían dado un corte de pelo y junto con pelo eran carne de corte, tardó
dieciocho puntadas para coser la herida. Era 12:02, hicieron una camilla con una sábana y llevó al
pueblo cuesta arriba, no había coches entonces, caminos única cabra. Despertó a los dos médicos
que existían, Papadimitriou y Diomis, también llamaron el farmacéutico, lavaron las heridas, la
sangre no podría dejar de correr, dieciocho puntos eran necesarias para la cabeza. La mujer había
tenido intensos dolores de cintura para abajo desde entonces. Su marido salió de la cárcel en
1949. Había visto en los periódicos que le había golpeado y luego, como gracia, fue puesto en
libertad. Llegué a la aldea, Glossa. Encontré a mi esposa en una condición terrible, tenía terribles
dolores y llevaron a un médico famoso en Salónica. Le pasó a través de rayos x y me dijo que si
tuviera una pistola me mataría porque yo sólo llevó a un hospital tan tarde. Me reí y el doctor me
dijo "su esposa hizo inútil y te ríes, capitán?". Entonces le dije de mi pasado y me dijo "tienes
razón. Las personas que hicieron esto son culpables". Desde entonces, desde ’50 hasta 1998, mi
esposa no podía ir al baño, ella estaba en la silla de un inválido, sus piernas estaban pudriendo,
los huesos bajo la cintura habían ido fuera de lugar durante el arrastre y no podían retroceder en el
lugar porque no había ido para la cirugía en el tiempo. En 1997 ella había convertido en
confinado a la cama y que estaba pagando 70000dr/mes a una mujer a ser cuidando de ella. En
1998 murió. Lo que había o no he vendido a proteger a mi esposa. No hay nada más que decir.
77
Hoy, 17 de mayo de 2006, después de la Misa de funeral en la iglesia de San Nicolás en Loutraki,
kyr Vangelis fue enterrado en el cementerio de Glossa. Fue 95 y murió muy rápidamente sin
tiempo a colapsar. Miró todo vivo en el ataúd. Él había superado un pequeño problema que tuvo
con un esguince de pierna últimamente y empezó a ir a pie, otra vez, de Kolonaki a Loutraki... Es
sólo que él tenía algunos dolores que prefería hacer que hablan de su pueblo, y cuando él decirles
que ya era demasiado tarde para el hospital hacer cualquier cosa. Además de ser tan querido por
todo el mundo, que había escrito, con sus obras, historia, por lo que es apropiado acompañar a su
funeral con un par de palabras: no más de una pareja porque todo el mundo lo sabe. Y si alguien
entre los más jóvenes no ha escuchado el nombre de Vangelis Yiannopoulos, entonces él sólo le
conoce como "el abuelo". Muchos también acompañan a "abuelo" con la frase "el abuelo de un
noble".Las palabras son la pobreza"para no decir más acerca de él, especialmente frente a quienes
ya lo conocen. Y sólo para aquellos que todavía haven escuchado lo suficiente de sus padres o
abuelos sobre el abuelo y su esposa Moshoula, nos hemos copiado todo de un cuaderno de su y
hemos añadido lo que nos dijo en las articulaciones que frecuentaba y esas páginas pondremos en
la biblioteca de Glossa y diremos a los padres y abuelos a sus hijos a ir allí y decir Diomitsa para
darles las notas para leer. Y para sus amigos se sientan que "ven" una vez más, como lo vieron en
este entierro, dejaremos una copia de lo que estaba diciendo en cada una de las articulaciones
donde le podría haber dicho en algún momento en su vida; sus amigos pueden sentir así que
escuchan una vez más. Así que lo dejaremos una copia, en Maria Varlami, en Karveli, en Petrino,
en de Dina Mada. Si hay más tales uniones y quiere una copia dejaron llámenos en la high School
secundaria, 33698, y te fotocopie las páginas para ellos a la vez.
78
In 1927 I became conscious of myself and went around several jobs.
In 1934 I was drafted. I was released from service in ’36 because the revolution intervened.
General Kamenos was a democrat. Kondylis wanted to bring the king. They did not agree and
that’s how the revolution came about. It lasted for forty days, I was released from duty and came
home.
With my father’s help and my savings I bought a caique and started work.
In ’37 I got engaged and in ’38 I got married.
And in ’40 I went to Albany to the war and in ’41 I came back. On May 17.
From this point my activity starts. Until October I was carrying patriots. I took them to Psarra
and there major George Kalambokas received them.
…………About twenty pages with action of the James Bond type follow*…………
On April 5 , at midnight, the bouradades** came, a lieutenant and a sergeant of the gendarmerie
named Arvanitakos. My father and Arvanitakos recognized each other. He was from Mani. Their
villages were half an hour’s distance apart, my father from Kyta , he from Skalounous. He
promised to my father , don’t be afraid no harm will come to your son in my hands, I’ll take him
to the prosecutor and from him to the prison. He took me to Volos on February 22, he took me to
the prosecutor. His name was Kativenis and the name of the first instance judge was
Manolopoulos. They interrogated me and Manolopoulos with Kativenis ordered that I go to the
Rigas Fereos prison. They took me there , I was locked up and on June 5 in ’45 I faced my first
court martial. I was tried by the military judge Laganis. I was acquitted unanimously. I was taken
back to prison. In 1945, on September 21, I faced criminal court, that I kept guns, cannons etc in
which I was acquitted with 11 votes. They took me from there and to Trikala, in the police. I had
with me a suitcase, a jailer came named Varoof , he took me to the detention ward. When I got in
I saw two killed men , blood was coming out of the ears of one and out of the nose of the other. I
said to myself that the same fate awaited me. The jailer was ordered to take me upstairs. He took
me to the commander. He put handcuffs on me and took me to his office. When I stepped in, the
commander looked at me and asked my name, I told him “Evangelos Yiannopoulos of
Vasilis”.He tells me “Didn’t you have a pseudonym?” “I had” “What was it?” “Kanaris***
Efstathios”. He looked in my eyes carefully and laughed .Immediately he told the jailer “Take
the handcuffs off quickly and leave”. He took them off and left. He offered me a cigarette, he
spoke on the phone and they brought us two coffees . The one gendarme told him “Do you want
anything else, Sir?”. He told him “Yes. In the room where you gendarmes stay at night you’ll
change blankets and the detainee will sleep there. Be very careful, not even the nose of this man
should be hurt” “Yes Sir” “You’ll also put his suitcase in the room and there’ll be a guard
outside all night. The jailer will have no responsibility, responsible will be you and the sergeant
of the gendarmerie”. I was ecstatic with what I was hearing, how this man says all this about me?
What does he know? How did I hear so nice things? Next day I would face the criminal court. As
we were sitting in his office drinking the coffees he asked me “captain Kanaris, you still haven’t
recognized me?” I tell him “No, Sir I don’t know you”. He was a captain of the gendarmerie. He
tells me “Did you ever pass from Chios during the occupation?”. I tell him “I did. Actually the
first craft that passed was me. Then came the submarine “Iatridis” with some commandos”. He
tells me “Did you take anything from Chios? Did the port authorities give you any man, or files,
to bring to Greece?” I tell him “Yes. I took a young second lieutenant of the gendarmerie whose
father was a commander in Chios, I don’t remember his name”. Then he started crying, he
embraced me and called me his savior. He tells me “Don’t you remember when you brought me
*We only mention that his wife and small kids were taken to live on a mountain with his parents.
**One of the thug clans of the civil war.
***Many resistance fighters used as pseudonyms the names of heroes of the Greek revolution of 1821
against Turks…. The pseudonym of kyr Vangelis …was “Kanaris” a famous sea captain who had blown up
with explosives the flagship of the Turkish fleet…****
****Karaiskakis whom we met earlier was a mountain hero.
79
to Volos and handed me to commander Kantarakias?” . We were both crying at that point, we
embraced, he took me downstairs, he handed me to the sergeant of the gendarmerie, he told him
to put a guard all night outside my room, he told me to change clothes, I did, we went to the hotel
and had dinner together and at 12 o’clock he took me to the police station , I got in my room and
slept. Next day, at 8, he came by himself, called me, I got dressed and six policemen took me to
the criminal court to be tried. There I was tried for having a craft with cannons etc and killing
people by firearms and the like. The president of the court was a Cretan, I don’t remember his
name, something like Varouxakis maybe. The commander himself spoke and said “This man did
not kill men. He saved men. He saved me too». And I was acquitted with 11 votes. Another
witness came, named Grigorios Filios, a warrant officer serving in Skopelos. He said it was me
who freed the whole of the Aegean. He said I drove 40 Italians out of Skopelos and similarly in
Skyros. I was acquitted, the commander gave me 5000 drachmas and four policemen took me,
and he himself gave a file that I had saved him and they sent me to “Pavlos Melas” in Salonica.
They took me to “Pavlos Melas” and next day four policemen took me to transfer me to the
Prison at Polygyros. After they took me they did not take me to prison but to a Turkish dungeon,
one kilometer far from the prison. They locked me in there, it was horrible, it had three steps, up
to the lowest it was full of garbage and waste water and the place was stinking. They locked me
in and left. In the prison of Polygyros there were 250 detainees. It had three rooms. One was
called Varkiza, one Potsdam, the other San Francisco. In San Francisco there lived seven men.
General Vouros, colonel Kallikratidis Nicholas from St Nicholas of Chalkidiki, a Venizelos
Kollias, major of the gendarmerie from Mytilini, a professor of theology from Salonica, his name
I don’ remember, a Bolkas from Paliouri in Chalkidiki, and two others from Chalkidiki whose
names I don’t remember. And they notified them, the general because every prison has its
president, that captain Kanaris is coming. They waited for me and every day they asked the jailer
“Where did detainee Kanaris go? Where do you have him?” and he said “We don’t know. They
sent him three days ago” and indeed the man didn’t know. I was locked up in that dungeon, that
horrible place. On the second day a policeman and a soldier came. They brought me a metal plate
of food, mixed with spittle and snot , I threw it to their feet. On the third day they brought me a
white sheet of paper and a pencil to put my signature. I tore it and threw it away. And broke the
pencil and threw it into the garbage. Then the soldier tried to hit me in the eye with the lance of
his rifle too, I pushed the rifle aside and the lance went to my nose. I fell bleeding, blood was
coming out my mouth and nose, they left thinking they had killed me. Across, about two hundred
meters beyond the barbed wire, there were two tents with gypsies. I started shouting and a young
gypsy heard me and immediately went to the police. Immediately came the commander, the
prosecutor, the judge and a doctor. They came, they cut the wire, they entered, and they took me
to a drugstore. They sewed my wound and took me to the prison of Polygyros. After four days I
was alright, I could talk, the prosecutor called me along with the head of the police in the office
of the head of prison guards and asked me who had hit me. So I told them “a policeman and a
soldier. He who hit me was the soldier”. They asked me “What kind of place was there?” and I
told them “The place stinks. There must be corpses in the waste water”. Indeed they made a
search in the mill with that Turkish dungeon and they found a corpse in decay and two killed men
in a horrible state, that’s why that place was stinking so much. They took me to recognize the
policeman and the soldier, they put all of them in line, but they were not among the ones I saw. I
remained in that prison until March 15. I got out of there with Sofoulis’ decongestion. I came to
my house and started working here and there because my family was in a terrible state. It was in
the beginning of ’47. They arrested me again on arrest warrant and took me to Larissa. I stayed
there until 1948. On March 22 of ’48 I was tried in court martial on charges like I caught crafts in
open sea , killed the crews, sank the crafts and took their belongings to my house. Then there was
a newspaper coming out in Volos, called “Anagennisi” (=Regeneration) and someone wrote there
that one of us is being tried in Larissa for killing crews and sinking caiques. This was read by two
captains, one Stavros Tsoukas from Limnos who happened to be in Volos and Dimitrios Paxinos
80
who was from Volos. They read the paper , they saw my name. The Germans had taken their
caiques, and them two along too, they had loaded loot, and they were taking them to Salonica. I
had caught them in Skantzoura, got their paper, also took the Germans, and then took them to my
base Agrelia and took the Germans to Cyprus. On the day I was being tried they came as
witnesses without me knowing it, I don’t remember the date. The military judge, a colonel
named Doganis, and the royal judge advocate, major George Papageorgiou, when I rose to defend
myself against the charges against me made by the president of Glossa George Mitziliotis and his
council, the moment I rose, the military judge asked me if I had a lawyer or a defense witness. I
told him “I have neither lawyer nor defense witnesses”. Immediately a lawyer rose, his name was
Antonios Sitras and he was a nephew of Plastiras. He immediately said “Sir, I am his lawyer and
he has two witnesses who are captains whose caiques the Germans had taken and loaded with
loot and he caught the Germans and took them to Cyprus” The military judge immediately called
them and interrogated them and they said that all these things were lies out of hatred, because this
man had freed all the islands. Which caiques did he sink? Which men did he kill? They were all
lies. I was acquitted but I was held in prison.
My wife was arrested on October 13 of 1948. They tied her by the feet behind a caique and
dragged her at 8mph around the harbor. One of them boasted: “The woman we’re dragging is
captain Kanaris’ wife. The captain, George Houlis, being a friend of mine, took a knife out slowly
and in the night’s darkness cut the rope, and shouted “Guys, the woman got drowned and she got
stuck in the bottom. The rope broke”.There was a guard at the harbor, Ioannis Karvelis, and the
Customs Inspector, Christos Politis, friends of mine both. They each shot once and the captain
shouted “Guys, it’s her husband. He’ll kill us all”. Right away they left for Skiathos. The woman,
managed to swim because the rope tied around her legs was a little loose. She reached a craft and
grabbed an iron part and shouted “help”. In the craft itself lived a couple, Vasilis Orfanos and his
wife Dimitra. Immediately they got hold of her and took on board but her head and her whole
body were full of blood, the sea was dyed red, they had given her a haircut and along with hair
they were cutting flesh, it took eighteen stitches to sew the wound. It was 2 after midnight, they
made a stretcher with a bedsheet and took her to the village uphill, there were no cars then, only
goat roads. They woke up the two doctors that existed, Papadimitriou and Diomis, they also
called the pharmacist, they washed the wounds, the blood could not stop running, eighteen
stitches were needed for her head. The woman had had intense pains from waist down ever
since. Her husband got out of jail in 1949. He had seen in the newspapers that they had hit her
and then , as grace, he was released. I came to the village, Glossa. I found my wife in a terrible
condition, she had terrible pains, and I took her to a famous doctor in Salonica. He passed her
through X-rays and he told me that if he had a gun he would kill me because I only took her to a
hospital so late. I laughed and the doctor told me “Your wife’s made useless and you laugh,
captain?”. Then I told her of my past and he said “You’re right. The people who did this are to
blame”. Since then, from ’50 to 1998, my wife could not go to the toilet, she was on an invalid’s
chair, her legs were rotting, the bones under her waist had gone out of place during the dragging
and couldn’t go back in place because she had not gone for surgery in time. By 1997 she had
become confined to bed and I was paying 70000dr/mth to a woman to be taking care of her. In 98
she died. Whatever I had or didn’t have I sold out to protect my wife. There’s nothing else to say.
81
Today, May 17 2006, after funeral mass in the church of St Nicholas in Loutraki, kyr
Vangelis was buried in the cemetery of Glossa. He was 95 and died very quickly without
time to collapse. He looked all alive in the coffin. He had overcome a little problem he
had with a leg sprain lately and he had started going on foot, again, from Kolonaki to
Loutraki.. It’s just that he had some pains which he preferred to stand than tell his people
about, and by the time he did tell them it was too late for the hospital to do anything.
Besides being so loved by everybody, he had written , with his deeds, history, so it’s
proper to accompany his funeral with a couple of words: not more than a couple because
everybody knows him. And if someone among the younger hasn’t heard the name
Vangelis Yiannopoulos , then he just knows him as “the grandpa”. Many also often
accompanied “grandpa” with the phrase “grandpa’s a nobleman. “Words are poverty” so
we won’t say more about him, especially in front of people who already know him. And
only for the ones who still haven’s heard enough from their parents or grandparents
about the grandpa and his wife Moshoula, we have copied everything from a notebook of
his and we have added what he told us in the joints that he frequented, and those pages
we’ll put in the Glossa library and we’ll say to parents and grandparents to tell their kid
to go there and tell Diomitsa to give them the notes to read. And for his friends to feel
they “see him off” once more, like they saw him off in this funeral, we’ll leave a copy of
what he was saying at each of the joints where he might have said it at some point in his
life; his friends may thus feel they hear him once more. So we’ll leave a copy, at Maria
Varlami’s, at Karveli’s, at Petrino, at Dina Mada’s. If there are more such joints and
want a copy let them call us at the high school , 33698, and we’ll photocopy the pages
for them at once.
82
Lysistrata en Lengua Island
En la época de las elecciones estadounidenses de 2004, en una isla del mar Egeo, en el patio de
la escuela de un pueblo a minutos cinco de la capilla donde Meryl Streep y Pierce Brosnan se
casaron en "¡ Mamma mia!", los niños están jugando un remake, para su tiempo y lugar, de
los antiguos antiguerra jugar "Lisístrata" de Aristófanes , un dramaturgo cómico famoso jugó
y reproducido por 25 siglos. Antes de que los niños comienzan a ver lo que se lee en el
programa de teatro por sus padres y abuelos y el resto del pueblo, que están esperando el juego
comenzar sentado en las gradas de la yarda. In the time of the American elections of 2004, in
an island of the Aegean, in the schoolyard of a village a five minutes’ ride from the chapel
where Meryl Streep and Pierce Brosnan were married in “Mamma mia!” the kids are playing
a remake, for their time and place, of the ancient antiwar play “Lysistrata” written by
Aristophanes , a famous comic playwright played and replayed for 25 centuries. Before the
kids begin let’s see what is read in the theater program by their parents and grandparents, and
the rest of the village too, who are waiting for the play to begin seated at the tiers of the yard.
Lysistrata significa a "Disolvente del ejército" y fue la heroína de una comedia de Aristófanes.
Ella había concebido la idea de que la guerra entre atenienses y espartanos podría terminar si las
esposas de los combatientes de ambos lados se negaron a realizar sus deberes conyugales, si sus
maridos no impidió la guerra. Por supuesto que esto fue una decisión difícil de aplicar para las
mujeres también así que se convirtió en un concurso entre marido y mujer en que podía aguantar
más... ahora vamos a ver lo que ella podría inspirar en nosotros para conflictos actuales si vivió
otra vez, pero esta vez aquí en nuestro pueblo donde su nombre sería Lys'strato o Lys'strataki
como Evgenia se convierte en Vgenio o Vgenaki.
Nota del traductor: por lo menos aquí, en este pueblo cuyo nombre cuando traducido significa "isla de la
lengua", supongamos que cosas cantadas no necesitan traducción, lo que se canta griego se entiende
inmediatamente por los estadounidenses como si había sido cantado en inglés y lo que es cantado por los
estadounidenses se entiende inmediatamente por los griegos como si había sido cantado en griego. Tal vez
esto llega hasta versos sólo recitadas demasiado, no sólo a las canciones. Allí vamos...
83
Lys’strataki
ACT 1
Stavros es visto en una pantalla de TV (en el estilo de TV's Hajinikolaou cuando en el expediente de la policía) diciendo:
«Hasta en las alturas de la tierra afgana donde cuevas son oscuras como el tono
globales vaqueros capturan en telas de araña que dan un picor creciente.
Destino había sido cruel con ellos en casa, cruel, duro y muy injusto,
pero ahora las olas de calor y vientos nevados son más de lo que pueden soportar.
resultados rápidos bombardearon Irak, planeaban choque y pavor
pero cuando en la tierra que no pudieron burlar la ley de víctimas de la guerra
84
El Ministro del Toro resistente duro de mierda, Rumsfeld, en disolución
arañazos propio de cabeza pies buscando una solución.
Ahora, sus proyectos como un espectáculo de pinchazo en sus mejillas colgantes
pero un divisa-corazón de CIA le da lo que él busca:
Panagiotis usa el receptor encuentra Rumsfeld en el teléfono e informes:
"Su dureza rindo mis respetos. ¿Todavía buscando a Bin Laden?
Tenemos algunas noticias que saltar. Averiguamos dónde se esconde.
En Skopelos Glossa es ahora, traducido es Tongue Island ,
valemos de nuestros salarios, protegemos a Nueva York, los Ángeles, Long Island.
Él es alto, es delgado, su piel es oscura, a los extranjeros es desconocido a nativos que difundió la
mentira de que su nombre es Buzanos.
85
86
Repentinamente estamos dentro de una casa grande de Glossa, en la cocina, el cartero de pueblo (interpretado por Yiorgos) es tomar
café, su madre (Argyroula) se está cocinando, abuelo (Vasilis) está dormitando en una silla, apoyado en un bastón a pie, Marina está
estudiando para un examen de química. En las noticias acerca de Buzanos Yiorgos sorpresa y risa repentina hacen el café estalló fuera
de la boca.
Yiorgos:-Mamá, abuelo, Marina, los americanos han encontrado Bin Laden. Era Nikos.Viva
Buzanden. Después de Zapata era Nikos. Después de Nikos el diluvio.
Argyroula: Nikos de - Theodosia? ¿Nuestro Nikos? Nikos ¿de Glossa? Mariina! Mariina!
¿Dónde estás? ¿No escuche las noticias? Los americanos dicen que Nikos de Theodosia es Bin
Laden.
Marina:- y ¿qué pasa importa una mierda de todos? ¿Que es lo que me puse el despertador para?
¿O para estudiar para el examen de química de hoy?
Argyroula: - Si sólo vengo allí te voy a mostrar lo que te importa y lo que no. Ejecutar a su padre
en el lugar de souvlaki y decirle a la orden a mi primo, el carpintero, una gran tienda rotulación
"Bin Buzanden s conjunta". ¿Todavía aquí? Levántese y ejecutar.
Yiorgos: - OK, solo camine, no corra. Cuando el primo de la madre tendrá la señal lista que otro
diez bin Ladens'a y dobles se habrá situado. Mamá, la cuna que ordenó para mí sólo sacudió
Marina, por el momento su primo que lo que había ido a la guardería.
Abuelo:-hacerlo escribir "Guarida de Bin Buzanden" no "común". Bandidos tienen guaridas,
tienen ningunos empalmes.
Argyroula:-decir esto a su otro hijo, a quien dio dinero para abrir un lugar de souvlaki demasiado. Aquí
las órdenes se dan por mí que tenía nuestra tienda como mi dote para que no pagamos alquiler.
Abuelo:-lo digo a mi hijo que recibe órdenes de usted. No a mí.
Argyroula:-sólo vas a estudiar para que el examen de su San Pedro entrar al Paraíso, usted podrá
ser tomarlo muy pronto.
Abuelo: - No, ir y conocer San Pedro. Voy sentados aquí hacer seguro public IKA quiebran, IKA
y todos los fondos de pensiones. ¿Por qué le deja el lugar ahora que las niñas turístico con minis y
bikinis vendrán de todas partes? AAH! Era demasiado pronto que mi generación nació, no había
minis en nuestros días. Estábamos demasiado pronto o esta Laden fue demasiado tarde trayendo a
turistas con bikinis aquí.
Argyroula:-usted está sólo dificultando su entrada al paraíso. San Pedro oírlo.
Abuelo:-San Pedro es un hombre y él me entiende. No piensa como tú.
Yiorgos: - ustedes dos son divertidos pero tengo que distribuir las letras y a discutir las noticias
con el pueblo. Qué divertido que vamos a tener hoy! Vamos a ver qué sale en TV sobre todo esto.
Pero ¿cómo nunca sucedió a ellos? ¡Ajá! Deben haber tenido sus latas de aceite para cócteles Molotof.
(Resto de Τhe en la televisión ve desde la puerta, de pie y haber puesto en su bolsa de correo).
Argyroula:-You’re only making your entrance to Paradise more difficult. Saint Peter heard that.
Grandpa:-Saint Peter is a man and he understands me. He doesn’t think like you.
Yiorgos:- You two are fun but I have to distribute the letters and to discuss the news with the
village. What fun we’re going to have today! Let’s see what else is on TV about all this. But how
did it ever occur to them? Aha! They must have taken his oil cans for Molotof cocktails.
(Τhe rest on TV he sees from the door , standing and having put on his mail bag).
Panagiotis continúa:
Nos lo acorraló, él no puede salir y así podemos permitirnos
mostrar modales bastante a diferencia de un señor malo de inculto.
Se verificaron primero hacia fuera si en esta isla podríamos divisamos a los europeos
y ahora te fallo sus teléfonos hasta que derraman los granos necesarios.
Estos serían personas para trazar con, darkskins se vería Laden
demasiado obvio que sería para nosotros, también lo comprobamos isleños".
Eschelon sabuesos con errores para oídos y sistemas de alta tecnología descubrieron
dos trazado francés y lo-y he-aquí un sospechoso Kraut
Mark Held y señora esposa legal y Ben con sospechan de perro
con el nombre de ningún perro pero una premier de difundir bien necesario niebla"
87
88
89
Ben y Marc Held son nombres reales de personas reales
que aman Glossa y viven allí.
……………Nos saltamos páginas al juramento de las mujeres ………..
90
(Despoina * que siempre dirige al coro da la canción cantando la primera estrofa, primero solo se unió)
EL JURAMENTO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilMq7ftI-1w
Diez mujeres en su momento de matrimonio con Lys'strato como su líder
confirió mientras cena de fijación
una idea brillante amaneció en ellos para salvar al mundo en su camino
un pensamiento como Mayday soleado.
Nunca usaremos taquillas o cadenas para nuestros corazones y nuestros cuerpos
nunca dejamos nuestros días altas
con soldados si caemos en el amor aunque sean vaqueros
siempre que siempre son hombres.
Pero ver a un niño como un hombre no como un lanzador de shitbomb
miedo shitless volar más bajo
él debe hablar nuevo cacique lengua de Bush Mostrar a ese comandante
como lo hacemos en la isla de la lengua.
En nuestra isla se convierten en hombres en nuestra isla convertirse en humanos
y entonces merecen a una mujer.
Aquellos que va a ser estos hombres nunca será infelices
y se unirán a la fiesta.
Pesca y buceo en lugar de días sin preocupaciones de bombas y futuros
en vez de separarse de los dolores.
Buceo de alta en alta mar, en nuestros brazos y noches de amor
por la oscuridad, por la luna, por Solanas.
Deseamos bien a nuestra Lys'strato, Lys'strata, Lys'strataki ****
nos hiciste muy feliz que mostró
el camino tiene no ha perdido a abrazos querida de amor
y ayudó a nuestras mejores gracias.
* Despoina es el cantante con la pandereta en el enlace http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZWV4lkjEQ4
de la parte de la noche de verano en el patio de la escuela de Glossa (el partido que ya mencioné). En edad del enlace
que es profesora de primaria en otra isla del Egeo (Amorgos) desde donde ella devuelve todos los veranos (y siempre
canta en estos partidos). En la época de "Lysistrata en Glossa"** fue un año antes de graduarse de la secundaria.
** Lysistrata nunca alcanzó la etapa de la escuela (los horarios de estudio de la noche de los 35 estudiantes implicados
y la ansiedad de los exámenes de entrada a, sólo permitieron ensayos de ley-por-ley pero nunca permitieron la
presencia simultánea de todos ellos en el ensayo general necesario de todo el evento. Pero todos disfrutamos de los
ensayos. Por algo que realmente subieron al escenario real (una parte de 10 episodios que no necesitaba casi todos los
actores en casi todos los episodios de manera prevenir ensayando) más adelante veremos un ejemplo (un theatrization
que hicimos de un capítulo de un libro sobre personajes reales después de la guerra civil griega. Su autor, Hronis
Missios, falleció hace unos meses) Pero ahora let'see un ejemplo de lo fantástico escrito cada verano por dos mujeres de
Glossa que se jugará en la semana cultural, unos 5-12 de agosto. (Por lo tanto, Aristides, esto responde ya a la pregunta
de que quince días de agosto tienes que venir.Sobre el lugar para alquilar también habrá te dije por mañana*** La
coincidencia único mala es que en exactamente este momento Maria me llamó para ir a ver TV porque lo que se decía
era que el centro de salud de Skopelos informa la escasez de material médico primaria debido a los cortes (por supuesto
esto es no es una excepción sino una regla) pero también informes que habitantes y turistas incluso ayudan con material
y con sus coches para transferir pacientes y ayudar a los médicos que istead de ser 14 ahora son 5 (espero que esto
también es una regla en lugar de una excepción)
*** (no esta noche porque no quiero interrumpir este traducción porque mañana, 10 de marzo, los indignados otra vez
reunirá en Syntagma square y quiero estar ahí. Más sobre que les escribiré a Hernán y más tarde)
****Corrección: No sólo el Vaso que jugó la Paz pero también Stamatis quien jugó Buzanos y Ellie quien jugó
Lysistrati debía tener sus nombres cambiados. Αll otros estudiantes mantuvieron sus nombres verdaderos. Buzanos
también es una persona real en Glossa y este apodo es su apodo real. Él es el Diogenes de Glossa
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Mencionamos, unas líneas arriba, veríamos un ejemplo del episodio teatral escrita por dos mujeres de Glossa,
Anthoula y Angela, jugado en eventos culturales de agosto en Glossa. Así que vamos a ver uno, escrito por Angela,
sobre impar favorece que los votantes pueden exigir de la cabeza del pueblo quienes votaban por si es elegido.
Dimitris aquí es el hermano menor de Stamatis que jugaría Bouzanos. Dimitris juega un enterrador visitando el
"alcalde" en su oficina. Él proviene de una remoción de restos de un hombre muerto, lleva botas y sostiene una piqueta
y una pala que deja sobre la mesa delante de Kostas, jugando "alcalde" (casi imperceptiblemente y discreta imitando
el jefe de la aldea real) y que, muy alarmado, pero tratar a la medida de lo posible no mostrarlo, saca de cajón de su
escritorio una botella de desinfectante y pone sobre la mesa por si acaso:
Dimitris:-Buenos días alcalde, se acercan las elecciones y sabes que tengo una gran familia más amplia y
muchos votos, y sabes que yo he sido abordado por otros demasiado
(muestra, en las gradas, el jefe real del pueblo,
¿Kostas:- pero tienes quejas de mí? ¿No he nombrado te como enterrador? ¿No te gusta tu trabajo?
Dimitris:-ninguna queja con eso. Gracias a Dios, personas mueren frecuentemente, allright, pero... un
momento, ese dedo del pie es matarme...
Elimina un arranque y su dedo del pie es roído por una prótesis. Él quita suspirando con alivio y lo coloca
sobre la mesa. ¿Pánico pero siempre tratando de ocultar su temor Kostas lanza desinfectante en todo su
cuerpo, incluso su cabeza
Dimitris:-... bueno, no usted mismo de nuestro pueblo también? ¿Detestar a los aldeanos compañeros? Esta
prótesis es mi último tío Georgie! Se había bebido tantas copas de vino juntos en el café hasta hace tres
años que murió!
Kostas:-de todos modos, ¿qué puedo hacer para usted?
Dimitris:-es bueno el trabajo que me encontraba. Pero desde el momento que asumí, mi pájaro no dice cuco.
Kostas:- y ¿qué puedo hacer para que?
Dimitris:-nuestro médico aldeas este año no es un hombre y una mujer. Vas y hacerme esas píldoras; ¿no
votar por usted? Y he acercado como te dije... ¿
Kostas (poniéndose de pie y caminar hasta el centro de la sala):-Me ? ¿La autoridad local? ¿Ir con el doctor
de la aldea de esas píldoras?
Dimitris:- (cayendo de rodillas y agarrar Kostas por los pantalones y llora corazón-breakingly) Alcaldee-e-e! Va a convertirse en un Cornudo-o-o-o! Por favor me ayude-e-e-e!
Kostas:-OK, te encontré una solución. ¿No nuestros abuelos beben jugo de almendra para mantenerse en
forma? Te voy a contar mi tía para hacerme algunos jugo; ¿pero después de Cuaresma, OK?
Dimitris:-alcalde me salvaste. Todos los kines votarán por usted
Otro episodio (esto por anthoula) titulado "Glossa y tecnología" que finalmente no puedo resistir informes es la
siguiente: Olga, que ya se había graduado, jugó una abuela que utiliza toda su pensión para comprar un teléfono
celular pero ella tiene muy tacaño abuelo como un marido, y a preparar le explicó por qué necesitaba el teléfono móvil
y más tarde lo haría... OK... Su marido tacaño dice que manejar este tipo de tecnología es demasiado complicado y
aún necesita escuelas de entrenamiento y tutoría...
¿Olga:-si voy a la stabe para alimentar la mula escuchará el teléfono en casa si suena? Lol ¿Si voy a
alimentar a los conejos en el jardín se oye el teléfono en casa si suena? Lol ¿Si voy a alimentar el pollo se
oye?
Yiannis:-OK, OK tengo el punto, pero aún...
¿Olga:-Además, seremos quienes en todo el pueblo permanecerán detrás de progreso? Pediré a mi viejo
compañero de clase si su hijo, que es profesor de física me puede dar algunas lecciones. Él te proponen un
precio buena enseñanza a un compañero de su madre
Yiannis:-Oh, vamos, mujer! ¿Volviendo a la escolaridad a nosotros mismos en nuestra época?
Olga:-¿Qué pasa con nuestra edad? Llamarte viejo. Mi sangre aún hirviendo.
Yiannis:-hervir, eh? Entonces ¿por qué ¿dormimos por separado?
Olga:-porque ronca cuando duermes
Yiannis:-yo roncó en mi sueño cuando era muy joven, pero luego me decían que mi ronquido es como
canción de cuna a usted.
Olga:-OK, vamos a ignorar a roncar. ¿Qué pasa con pedos mientras duerme? ¿
Yiannis:-no pedo en mi sueño cuando era joven? Y si lo hice, entonces ¿por qué no me dijiste?
Olga:-¿por qué no se me preguntó donde había aprendido a contener mi respiración cuando en nuestro
verano nada se divisaba me pude quedar bajo el agua durante un buen rato cuando se zambulló para
pulpos?
Yiannis:-Oh, vamos, mujer! ¿Qué vas a decirme? ¿Que la razón que nos podríamos comer todos los
asados pulpos fue que yo estaba pedos en mi sueño cuando era joven?
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Bienvenida, Frau Merkel
Arístides Mínguez | enero 16, 2013 | POLÍTICA, ECONOMÍA Y SOCIEDAD » El antro
de la arpía »
El antro de la arpía
Arístides Mínguez
Últimas columnas del autor:
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Gracias, Grecia
Historia de un maestro
Por mis alumnos
Por lo menos, unos sinvergüenzas
Horacio, semilla de poetas
…………En 1953 se estrenó en España la genial película de Luis García Berlanga Bienvenido, Mister
Marshall. Para el que aún no haya tenido la fortuna de paladearla le resumo el argumento.
…………Años cincuenta, en un pueblo de la Castilla profunda, Villar del Río. Nunca pasa nada fuera de lo
común, hasta que llega una cantante folklórica de segunda división, Carmen Vargas (Lolita Sevilla) con su
representante (un inmenso Manolo Morán). Simultáneamente, al Alcalde (el inmortal Pepe Isbert) le llega
un mensajero en moto para comunicarle que Villar del Río va a ser visitado por una comisión del Plan
Marshall. Plan con el que los EE.UU. financiaron la reconstrucción de una Europa arrasada por la Segunda
Guerra Mundial, excluyendo a la España franquista.
…………La inminente visita de los americanos, de los que todos (menos el hidalgo de más rancia estirpe)
esperan un maná de ayudas, revoluciona la hasta entonces apacible vida del pueblo. El Alcalde, asesorado
por el representante de la folklórica, convence a sus vecinos de que se disfracen de andaluces, en la idea de
que ése es el estereotipo que tienen los norteamericanos de España. Buscan, pues, colmar las expectativas
yanquis y granjearse su simpatía para que derramen su lluvia de millones.
…………Y, así, levantan un decorado de mentirijillas, con fachadas encaladas y geranios en los balcones.
Visten a todo el vecindario con el traje regional andaluz más castizo y ensayan una pegadiza canción de
bienvenida bajo la dirección de la folklórica.
…………Tras asistir a los delirantes sueños de algunos de los protagonistas, observamos cómo la comitiva
pasa de largo, sin ni siquiera detenerse. Al final, nadie guarda rencor alguno al Alcalde y a los suyos y entre
todos apencan para sufragar los gastos originados por los preparativos.
…………El filme se alzó con varios premios en el Festival de Cannes y desde entonces se convirtió en uno
de los clásicos más reconocidos del cine español. El guion se debe a la pluma de Miguel Mihura, Juan
Antonio Bardem y el propio Berlanga, que consiguieron sortear la férrea censura franquista con mil
triquiñuelas y alusiones soterradas a la situación social que les tocó vivir.
…………Sesenta años después de su estreno, algunas cosas no han cambiado mucho en España. Bastantes
93
caracteres y actitudes de los que mandan difieren poco de las de los que por aquel entonces mandaban.
Volvemos a estar metidos en una crisis en la que unos oligarcas, sostenidos por plutócratas, gobiernan de
espaldas al pueblo, abusando de su poder absoluto.
…………Como antaño, ministros y otros capitostes se visten de mantilla, desfilan bajo palio y besan los
anillos de los prelados católicos. Como entonces, se confunde la esfera pública con la privada y campa el
nepotismo más vergonzante. Como antes, se criminaliza al que no comulga con su credo ultraliberal y se
intentan acallar críticas y denuestos. Como por entonces, se confía todo a la ayuda que vendrá de fuera.
Pero ahora ya no son los Estados Unidos en los que se confía. Ahora la batuta la lleva la Alemania
ultraliberal de Angela Merkel y sus correligionarios de la Comisión Europea.
…………Todos los recortes, todos los ataques que está sufriendo el Estado de bienestar, que tanto costó
ganar a los españoles, están siendo ejecutados para satisfacer a la Troika y ser, de este modo, dignos de
recibir el nuevo “Plan Merkel”. No importan los sufrimientos infligidos.
…………Si de algo estamos sobrados en esta nación es de ingenio, por lo que imagino que, a no mucho
tardar, alguna mente privilegiada tendrá la ocurrencia de hacer un ‘remake’ de la película de Berlanga,
adaptándola a la realidad hispana actual y llamándola
Bienvenida,
Frau Merkel.
…………Así, volverá a elegirse Guadalix de la Sierra, en la montaña madrileña, para que sirva de
escenario. Los guionistas, de los cuales el cine español está profusamente dotado, aunque no sea
reconocido ni por el gran público, ni, lo que es peor, por las autoridades, harán gala de su mucho arte.
…………De este modo, en el anodino Villar del Río serán avisados de que va a llegar el rescate que salve
los bienes patrios, personalizado en un Plan Merkel, con la bendición de la Comisión Europea y todas las
águilas y gaviotas de la UE. El alcalde, un bonachón del Partido Popular, como Dios manda, acudirá al
representante de la folklórica para saber cómo agasajar mejor a la comisión europea. Pero desde el partido
le imponen un asesor. Contratado a dedo, pagado con fondos públicos: un octogenario, padre de un
diputado provincial, que en tiempos estuvo en Alemania y dice conocerla a la perfección. Combatió en la
División Azul a favor de las tropas de Hitler y cree saber cómo son los germanos. Sufre una ligera
94
demencia y parece haber olvidado que han pasado más de setenta años.
…………Así, este buen asesor decreta que, para agradar a la Merkel, han de convertir el sin sal Villar del
Río en un típico pueblo de orillas del Rhin. Construyen fachadas de cartón piedra emulando las casas
renanas tradicionales. Visten a las mozas más resultonas con el atuendo germano y les resaltan sus
generosos escotes, simbolizando que las ubérrimas ubres hispanas están abiertas a las sedientas bocas
teutonas.
…………El papel de la maestra será encomendado (hay que darle vaselina a quien subvenciona) a la sin
par María Dolores de Cospedal. Ésta era hasta el momento una recatada y casi mojigata maestra de
Religión, enchufada en el colegio público desde el obispado. En cuanto consigue el cargo de presidenta de
la comisión organizadora, se desmelena y da a conocer la fiera que llevaba dentro. Muriéndose por vestir de
teja y mantilla ante la Merkel, intentará adoctrinar a sus tiernas criaturas de las bondades de la cerveza
renana frente al áspero vino patrio. Despotricará de la tradicional dieta mediterránea, de aberraciones tales
como los gazpachos y el pisto manchegos frente a la divina dieta digna de nibelungos y valkirias, a base de
salchichas, hamburguesas y coles cocidas. Con el patrocinio de los Neocatecumenales de Kiko ensayará
con sus querubines unos coros místicos para recibir a la comitiva europea.
…………Se podrían poner escenas paralelas que no vienen en el filme original. Al socaire de la futura
llegada del maná germano, podremos ver a algunos de los personajes de la carcunda hispana intentando
sacar partido. La inefable Esperancita, la Madrileña, aparecería en una escena jugando al golf con un
multimillonario, tejano y con pinta de hampón. La dicha Esperanza le promete el oro y el moro al mafioso
si se trae a Villar del Río sus turbios negocios. Le garantiza las putas más aseadas y serviciales de Europa
para los clientes de sus casinos. Los matones más fornidos, como porteros. La putilla del mafioso,
zalamera, le dirá a su maromo que le estorban las vistas que desde el complejo tendrán del aeropuerto de
Barajas. Esperancita, misteriosa, sonreirá y le dirá que todo se andará…
…………En otra escena podremos ver a Andreíta Que-se-Jodan pidiéndole al Alcalde que, dado que le va
a caer una lluvia de millones, contrate a su papi para que le construya un aeropuerto nuevo, pues Barajas
está muy lejos: a media hora. Y que ponga a su maridito, un bombón de naftalina, como director del centro
de salud, que él sabe cómo sacarle el pringue.
…………En la sacristía de la prioral, el pío Gallardón, sacristán de la misma, despotricaría ante el vicario
de que sus súbditos no compartan con él que el gobernar es repartir dolores, de que el vulgo no comprenda
que, según el credo de su secta ultracatólica, la vida es un valle de lágrimas… para los otros, porque para
los adeptos y sus amiguitos del alma, va a ser que no…
…………Asistiremos a la conversión de Villar del Río en un tradicional villorrio renano, donde los
habitantes más adinerados vestirán calzones cortos con tirantes; cofia para las doncellas.
…………Y para que la Merkel y sus mamporreros no echen nada a faltar y, según el octogenario asesor, se
sientan como en casa, las fuerzas del orden vestirán el uniforme de las SS. A los funcionarios, obesos,
parados, sindicalistas, antisistemas, díscolos y el rojerío entero, puesto que afean el paisaje y molestan con
sus pancartas y consignas, los vestirán con un pijama a rayas, les pondrán una estrella roja y los recluirán
en un campo de concentración.
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…………Todos juntos, presos incluidos, ensayarán ilusionados el “Alemanes, os damos todos la
bienvenida…”, bajo la batuta de la enfervorizada De Cospedal, y soñarán con las mieles que vendrán de
Europa y que justifiquen los recortes y martirios a los que el Gobierno patrio les ha sometido.
…………Maldita la gracia que le hizo al eximio Berlanga la situación que le tocó vivir cuando rodó su
obra maestra. Maldita la gracia que me hace comprobar cuán poco hemos cambiado. Así que… bienvenida,
Frau Merkel.
Comentarios (2)
1.
Blasi dice:
20 enero, 2013 a las 19:46
Espero que te acuerdes de mí en el rodaje del film y me incluyas en el “BARRETOKAGNAHS” entre los
degustadores de jarras bábaras de cerrveza nazional.
Gracias a los dioses todavía soñamos sin recortes.
Un abrazo.
Responder
o
Arístides Mínguez dice:
20 enero, 2013 a las 20:57
Cuentag con eggso, mein Magister.
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La única observación que puede hacer Merkel se vean aún más ridículo que ya ha hecho a sí misma mirada
frente a la mirada española representada por Aristides, es ver cómo se ve frente a los ojos de uno de sus
compatriotas más graves, el gran pensador de Max Weber, en algunos (un poco más claro por supuesto!)
los párrafos de su gran clásico "el protestante ética y el espíritu del capitalismo".
"Paragrpaphs más ligero" significa Benjamin Franklin, me refiero a la línea de su que, si no era parte de su
"confesión de fe" (como lo llama Weber) sería una broma asesina. Aquí es: "el que puede ganar diez
chelines diarios por su trabajo y va al extranjero, o se encuentra inactivo, uno la mitad de ese día, aunque
pasa pero sixpence durante su ociosidad, o la no debe considerar que el único gasto; realmente lleva, o más
bien tirada a la basura, cinco chelines además.".Hay algunas otras cosas que uno nunca creería si didn' ver
escrito con sus propios ojos, como "riqueza no es un pecado, disfrutarla es un pecado" o que "riqueza se
hace no para ser disfrutado, pero para la gloria de Dios y aunque uno es predestinado para el infierno Dios
le permite la alegría de trabajar para su gloria mientras que vive" pero se trata de la memoria, no
literalmente, pero sin necesidad de algunos hojear para localizar a ellos, pero dos de ellos valen algunos
hojear para mencionarse textualmente:“…Baxter (resto de la eternidad de los Santos, Cap. xii) explica la
invisibilidad de Dios con la observación que igual uno puede llevar en el comercio rentable con un
extranjero invisible a través de la correspondencia, así que es posible por medio de comercio Santo con un
Dios invisible a la posesión de la perla de un valor incalculable. Estos símiles comerciales en lugar de los
forenses habituales con los moralistas más viejos y los luteranos son completamente característicos del
puritanismo, que en efecto hace al hombre comprar su propia salvación. Compara más el siguiente pasaje
de un sermón: "calculamos el valor de una cosa por lo que dará un sabio para él, que no es ignorante de él
ni en necesidad. Cristo, la sabiduría de Dios, dio a sí mismo, su propia sangre preciosa, para redimir las
almas, y sabía lo que eran y no tenían necesidad de ellos "(Matthew Henry, el valor del alma,...".)
El último, con o sin la presencia del ambiente actual de los mercados, es simplemente IN-CRE-IBLE:
"El cristiano reformado, sin embargo, sentía su pulso con su ayuda. Es mencionada por todos los moralistas
y teólogos, mientras que el de Benjamin Franklin tabulado estadístico contable en su progreso en las
diferentes virtudes es un ejemplo clásico.Por otro lado, la vieja idea medieval (incluso antigua) de
contabilidad de Dios es llevada por Bunyan al extremo característico insípido de comparar a la relación de
un pecador a su Dios con el de cliente y comerciante. Uno que tiene una vez en deuda puede bien, por el
producto de todos sus actos virtuosos, tiene éxito en pagar los intereses acumulados, pero nunca el principal”
Algunas personas piensan que los inhumanos rasgos de algunas corrientes europeas (como comercio de
esclavos slavetrade, Inquisición, conquistadore tipo de christianizers, piratería,...) los restos del pasado no
Cristiano bárbaro, sino la existencia de los apartados como el de arriba hace posible, si no plausible
demasiado, la conjetura de que la nueva civilización valiente que el valientes civilizadores nuevos
considerados bastante dignos de sus nombres para hacerpublicidad/exportar/imponer era reducir a las
civilizees nuevos al estado del predestinado-para-el-infierno que su versión del cristianismo hizo pensable a
ellos por sí mismos y esto hace que el nuevo sueño americano o el sueño europeo o el sueño occidental, no
trágica pero divertida patético y lamentable…Tal vez esto es lo que nuestro difunto amigo Nick nos diría
que si en sus horas de trabajo había leído Weber en vez de Mumford, tal vez esto es lo que nos habría le
dijo si al tiempo que describió a los europeos, en lo que él describió como vimos, Merkel también y no sólo
Bush y Rumsfeld había entrado en la escena de la historia, pero en todos los casos ya podemos escuchar,
por el lado interno de nuestros tímpanos, diálogos entre nosotros en Glossa, también acompañado por
Hernán y Aristides, va como: Desafío a vosotros, sabios maestros de nuestros hijos ya Padre de Alexis,
imaginar lo que un corrupto como meridional, un cristiano ortodoxo griego, diría a un corrupto como sur un
cristiano católico Papal que venden esos papeles que debían absolver los pecados de alguien familiares
muertos y transferir sus almas del infierno al paraíso... " "Pedazo de pastel..." "Espera, no terminó: te pido
también que imaginar lo que un corrupto norte como un cristiano protestante diría a ese mismo Papal
católico Cristiano para el mismo asunto" "los ortodoxos diría" por qué tienen que pagar para entrar al
paraíso?"" "Los protestantes, por lo menos la calvinista, diría"¿por qué tienen que entrar al Paraíso si
pagan?"" "¡ Bravo! Ambos lo contratan. Eres realmente bueno para nuestros hijos". ¿Entonces haríamos
todo comentario Franklin de recuento de chelines por el viejo chiste sobre la pareja tacaño*: "Mujer, hoy
ahorré dinero por correr detrás de un autobús en vez de comprar un billete" "la próxima vez ejecutar
después un taxi a ahorrar más" o a través de viejas escenas de nuestro comediante nacional Thanasis
Vengos discutiendo con un portero que le había ayudado a mover a un nuevo apartamento "que mucho
durante media hora? ¿Tan en ocho horas...? ¿Así que en un mes...? ¿Así que en un año...? ¿Vas a ser
millonario como Onasssis en mi espalda?"
*(que mi amigo Dionysis que escribió libros con las matemáticas, libros con humor y con ambos, tenían una vez me recordó en una
conexión diferente de la doctrina de Franklin"el tiempo es dinero". Volveremos)
97
Lysistrata in Langue Island
In the time of the American elections of 2004, in an island of the Aegean, in the schoolyard of
a village a five minutes’ ride from the chapel where Meryl Streep and Pierce Brosnan were
married in “Mamma mia!” the kids are playing a remake, for their time and place, of the
ancient antiwar play “Lysistrata” written by Aristophanes , a famous comic playwright played
and replayed for 25 centuries. Before the kids begin let’s see what is read in the theater
program by their parents and grandparents, and the rest of the village too, who are waiting for
the play to begin seated at the tiers of the yard.
Lysistrata means “Army dissolver” and was the heroine of a comedy by Aristophanes. She had
conceived the idea that the war between Athenians and Spartans could end if the wives of the
combatants of both sides refused to perform their conjugal duties if their husbands did not stop
the war. Of course this was a difficult decision to apply for the women too so it became a contest
between husband and wife in who could hold out longer……….Let’s now see what she could
inspire in us for today’s conflicts if she lived again, but this time here in our village where her
name would become Lys’strato or Lys’strataki like Evgenia becomes Vgenio or Vgenaki.
Translator’s note: At least here, in this village whose name when translated means “tongue island”, let’s
assume that sung things don’t need translation, whatever Greek is sung is immediately understood by
Americans as if it had been sung in English and whatever is sung by Americans is immediately understood
by Greeks as if it had been sung in Greek. Maybe this even extends to verses just recited too, not only to
songs. There we go…
98
Lys’strataki
ACT 1
Stavros is seen on a TV screen (in TV’s Hajinikolaou’s style when in police record) saying:
«Up in the heights of Afghan land where caves are dark like pitch
global cowboys are caught in webs that give a growing itch.
Fate had been cruel to them at home, cruel, hard and quite unfair
but now heat waves and snowy winds are more than they can bear.
For quick results they bombed Iraq , they planned full shock and awe
but when on ground they couldn’t get round the war casualty law
99
The minister of tough-shit bull , Rumsfeld, in dissolution
scratches himself from head to toes looking for a solution.
His projects now like a flat tyre show in his hanging cheeks
but a badge-heart from CIA gives him just what he seeks:
Panagiotis wearing headset finds Rumsfeld on the phone and reports:
“Your toughness I pay my respects. Still looking for Bin Ladin?
We have some news at which to jump. We found out where he’s hiding.
In Glossa Skopelos he’s now, translated it’s Tongue Island,
we’re worth our wages, we protect New York, L.A., Long Island.
He’s tall, he’s thin, his skin is dark, to foreigners he’s unknown
to natives he has spread the lie that his name is Buzanow.
100
101
Suddenly we are inside a big Glossa house, in the kitchen, the village postman (played by Yiorgos) is
having coffee , his mom (Argyroula) is cooking, grandpa (Vasilis) is dozing on a chair leaning on a walking
cane, Marina is studying for a chemistry test. At the news about Buzanow Yiorgos’s surprise and sudden
laughter makes the coffee burst out of his mouth.
Yiorgos:-Mom, grandpa, Marina, the Americans have found Bin Laden. It was Nikos.Viva
Buzanden. After Zapata it was Nikos. After Nikos the deluge.
Argyroula: -Theodosia’s Nikos? Our Nikos? Glossa’s Nikos? Mariina! Mariina! Where are
you? Didn’t you hear the news? The Americans say that Theodosia’s Nikos is Bin Laden.
Marina:- And what do I care about everybody’s bullshit? Is that what I set the alarm clock for?
Or to study for today’s chemistry exam?
Argyroula:- If I only come there I’ll show you what you care about and what not. Run to your
father in the souvlaki place and tell him to order to my cousin, the carpenter, a big store sign
writing “Bin Buzanden’s joint”. Still here? Get up and run.
Yiorgos:- OK, just walk, don’t run. By the time mom’s cousin will have the sign ready another
ten bin Ladens’a and doubles will have been located. Mom, the cradle you ordered for me only
rocked Marina, by the time your cousin delivered it I had gone to kindergarten.
Grandpa:-Make it write “Bin Buzanden’s den” not “joint”. Bandits have dens , they have no
joints.
Argyroula:- Say this to your other son to whom you gave money to open a souvlaki place too.
The orders here are given by me who had our store as my dowry so that we don’t pay rent.
Grandpa:-Say this to my son who takes orders from you. Not to me.
Argyroula:- You just go to study for your Saint Peter’s exam to enter Paradise, you’ll be taking
it pretty soon.
Grandpa:- No, you go and meet Saint Peter. I’ll sit around here to make IKA go bankrupt, IKA
and all pension Funds. Why would I leave the place now that tourist girls with minis and bikinis
will be coming from everywhere? Aah ! It was too early that my generation was born, there were
no minis in our days. Either we were too early or this Laden was too late bringing tourists with
bikinis here.
Argyroula:-You’re only making your entrance to Paradise more difficult. Saint Peter heard that.
Grandpa:-Saint Peter is a man and he understands me. He doesn’t think like you.
Yiorgos:- You two are fun but I have to distribute the letters and to discuss the news with the
village. What fun we’re going to have today! Let’s see what else is on TV about all this. But how
did it ever occur to them? Aha! They must have taken his oil cans for Molotof cocktails.
(Τhe rest on TV he sees from the door , standing and having put on his mail bag).
Panagiotis continues:
We cornered him, he cannot leave, and thus we can afford
to display manners quite unlike a bad uncultured lord.
We first checked out if in this isle we could spot Europeans
and now we’ll bug their phones until they spill the needed beans.
These would be people to plot with, darkskins would look like Ladens
too obvious they would be to us, we’ll also check islanders”.
Eschelon hounds with bugs for ears and high-tech sets found out
two plotting French and lo-and-behold a suspect German Kraut.
Mark Held and lady, legal wife, and Ben with suspect dog
with no dog’s name but a premier’s to spread well needed fog”
102
103
104
Ben and Marc Held are rela persons
who loved Glossa and live there
……………We skip pages and go to see te oath of the women..………..
105
st
(Despoina* who always leads the choir gives the tune singing the 1 stanza first alone then joined)
THE OATH
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilMq7ftI-1w
Ten women at their marriage time with Lys’strato as their leader
conferred while fixing dinner
a bright idea dawned on them to save the world in their way
a thought like sunny Mayday.
We’ll never use lockers or chains for our hearts and our bodies
we’ll never leave our high days
with soldiers if we fall in love even if they are cowboys
provided they’re men always.
But to see a boy as a man not like a shitbomb thrower
scared shitless to fly lower
he must talk back to chieftain Bush show tongue to such commander
as we do in Tongue Island.
In our island become men in our isle become human
and then deserve a woman.
Those among you who’ll be such men will never be unhappy
and they will join the party.
Fishing and scuba instead of bombs carefree days and tomorrows
instead of spreading sorrows.
Diving from high into deep sea, into our arms and lovenights
by dark, by moon, by sunlights.
We wish you well our Lys’strato, Lys’strata, Lys’strataki****
you made us very happy
you showed the road has not been lost to love’s beloved embraces
and helped out our best graces.
(At the end of the oath they all embrace and hug and kiss Lys’strataki (Ellie). Again Despoina makes the start).
*Despoina is the singer with the tambourine in the link from the summer-night party in the schoolyard of Glossa (the
party that I already mentioned). In the link’s age she is a teacher of primary school in another island of the Aegean
(Amorgos) from where she returns every summer (and always sings in these parties) . In the time of “Lysistrata in
Glossa”** she was one year before graduation from high-school.
** Lysistrata never reached the school stage (the evening study schedules of the 35 students involved, and the anxiety
of the entrance exams approaching, only allowed act-by-act rehearsals but never allowed the simultaneous presence of
all of them in the necessary general rehearsal of the whole event. But we all enjoyed the rehearsals. For something that
really went on real stage ( one part of 10 episodes that did not need almost all the actors in almost all episodes in a way
preventing rehearsing) we’ll see later an example (a theatrization we made of a chapter of a book about real characters
after the Greek civil war. Its author, Hronis Missios, died just some months ago) But now let’see an example of the
fantastic things written every summer by two women of Glossa to be played in the cultural week, around 5-12 of
August. (So, Aristides, this answers already the question of which forthnight of August you should come. About the
place to rent I will also have told you by tomorrow***.The only bad coincidence is that at exactly this point of time
Maria called me to go to see TV because what was being said was that the Health Center of Skopelos reports the
insufficiency of elementary medical material because of the cuts(of course this is not an exception but a rule) BUT also
reported that habitants and even tourists help with material and with their cars to transfer patients and help the doctors
who istead of being 14 are now 5 (I hope this too is a rule rather than an exception)
***(not tonight because I do not want to interrupt this traducción because tomorrow, March 10, the indignados will
again gather in Syntagma square and I want to be there. More on that I will write to both Hernán and you later)
****Correction: Not only Vaso who played Paz but also Stamatis who played Buzanos and Ellie who played Lysistrati
had to have their names changed. All other students kept their real names. Buzanos is a real person in Glossa and this
nickname is his real nickname. He is the Diogenes of Glossa.
106
As mentioned, a few lines above, we now go to see an example of the theatrical episodes written by two women from
Glossa, Anthoula and Angela, played in cultural events of August in Glossa. So let's see one, written by Angela, about
odd favors that voters may demand from the head of the village whom they voted for if he is elected. Dimitris here is
the younger brother of Stamatis who would play Bouzanos. Dimitris plays a grave-digger visiting the “mayor” in his
office. He’s coming from a removal of a dead man’s relics, wears boots and holds a pick-axe and a shovel that he
leaves on the desk in front of Kostas, playing “mayor” (almost imperceptibly and tactfully imitating the real village
head) and who, quite alarmed but trying as much as possible not to show it, takes out of his desk’s drawer a bottle of
disinfectant and puts it on the desk just in case:
Dimitris:-Good morning Mayor, elections are approaching and you sure know I have a big wider family
and many votes , and you sure know I have been approached by others too
(he shows, in the tiers, the actual head of the village,
Kostas:-But you have complaints from me? Haven’t I appointed you as grave-digger? Don’t you like your
job?
Dimitris:-No complaint with that. Thank God, people die quite often, allright, but…just a minute, that toe
is killing me…
He removes one boot and his toe is gnawed by a denture. He removes it sighing with relief, and places it upon the
desk. Panicked but always trying to conceal his trepidation Kostas throws disinfectant all over his body , even his head
Dimitris:-…hey, aren’t you yourself from our village too? Loathing your fellow villagers? This denture is
my late uncle Georgie’s! You had drunk so many glasses of wine together in the café until three years ago
that he died!
Kostas:-Anyway, what can I do for you?
Dimitris:-The job you found me is good. But since the time I took it on, my bird doesn’t say cuckoo.
Kostas:-And what can I do for that?
Dimitris:-Our villages doctor this year is not a man, but a woman. You go and get me those pills; didn’t I
vote for you? And I’ve been approached as I told you…
Kostas (standing up and walking to the center of the room) :-Me? The local authority? Going to the
village doctor for such pills?
Dimitris (falling to his knees and grabbing Kostas by the trouses and crying heart-breakingly) :
-May-o-o-or! I’ll become a cuckoo-o-o-old! Please help me-e-e-e !!!
Kostas:-OK, I found you a solution. Didn’t our grandpas drink almond juice to keep themselves in shape?
I’ll tell my aunt to make me some juice; but after Lent, OK?
Dimitris:-Mayor you saved me. All my kins will vote for you
Another episode by Anthoula, titled “Glossa and technology” that finally I can’t resist reporting is the
following:
Olga, who had already graduated, played a granny who used all her pension to buy a cellphone but she
has very stingy grandpa as a husband, and to prepare him she explained why she needed the cellphone and
later she would ….OK… Her stingy husband said that handling such technology was too complicated and
even needed coaching schools and tutoring…
Olga:-If I go to the stabe to feed the mule will I hear the phone at home if it rings? No. If I go to feed the
rabbits in the garden will I hear the phone at home if it rings? No. If I go to feed the chicken will I hear it?
Yiannis:-OK, OK I got the point, but still…
Olga:-Besides, will we be the ones in the whole village who will stay behind progress? I’ll ask my old
classmate if her son who is a physics tutor can give me some lessons. He’ll propose a good teaching price
to a classmate of his mom
Yiannis:-Oh, c’mon, woman! Going back to schooling ourselves in our age?
Olga:-What about our age? Call yourself old. My blood’s still boiling.
Yiannis:-Boiling, eh? Then why do we sleep separately?
Olga:-Because you snore when you sleep
Yiannis:-I snored in my sleep when I was young too, but you were then telling me that my snoring is like
lullaby to you.
Olga:-OK, let’s ignore snoring. What about farting in your sleep?
Yiannis:-Didn’t I fart in my sleep when I was young? And if I did , then why hadn’t you told me?
Olga:-Why hadn’t you asked me where I had learned to hold my breath when in our summer swims you
could see I could stay underwater for quite a while when I dived for octopuses?
Yiannis:-Oh, c’mon, woman! What else are you going to tell me? That the reason we could eat all those
broiled octopuses was that I was farting in my sleep when I was young?
107
Welcome, Frau Merkel
Great Luis García Berlanga Bienvenido, Mister Marshall film premiered in Spain in 1953. For which has not yet
had the fortune to taste it summarize you the argument.
In the fifties, in a village of deep Castilla, Villar del Río. Never happens nothing out of the ordinary, until it
reaches a folk singer's second division, Carmen Vargas (Lolita Sevilla) with your representative (a huge Manolo Morán).
At the same time, (the immortal Pepe Isbert) a Messenger becomes mayor in moto to communicate that Villar del Rio is
going to be visited by a Commission of the Marshall Plan. Plan with us.UU. they financed the reconstruction of a Europe
devastated by World War II, excluding the Francoist Spain.
The impending visit of the Americans, who all (less the more rancid lineage hidalgo) await a mana's aid,
revolutionizes the hitherto peaceful life of the people. The Mayor, advised by the representative of the folk, convinces its
neighbors that are dress of Andalusia, on the idea that that is the stereotype that Americans of Spain have. They seek,
therefore, meet the expectations Yankees and gain sympathy so they spilled their rain of million.
And, thus, raise a decorated's FIBS, with whitewashed facades and Geraniums on the balconies. They dressed
up around the neighborhood with the most traditional Andalusian costumes and rehearse a catchy song of welcome under
the direction of the folk.
After attending the delusional dreams of some of the protagonists, we watched as the procession passes,
without even pausing. Ultimately, nobody grudge whatsoever to the Mayor and his people and all they apencan to cover
the costs resulting from the preparations.
The film won several awards at the Cannes Film Festival and since then became one of the most recognized
classics of Spanish cinema. The script is due to the pen of Miguel Mihura, Juan Antonio Bardem and the own Berlanga,
who managed to circumvent the strict censorship of Franco with thousand tricks and buried allusions to the status that
had to live.
Sixty years after its premiere, some things have not changed much in Spain. Quite a few characters and
attitudes of the powers that differ little from the of which was then sent. We return to be stuck in a crisis in which a few
oligarchs, held by Plutocrats, rule back to the people, abusing his absolute power.
As long ago, Ministers and other capitostes mantilla's dress, parade under a canopy and kiss the rings of the
Catholic prelates. As then, merges the public sphere with private and campa more shameful nepotism. As before, it
criminalizes that not agrees with their ultraliberal creed and she is trying to silence criticism and boos. By then, commits
all the aid which will come out. But now they are no longer the United States trusted them. Now the baton is carried the
ultra-liberal Germany's Angela Merkel and fellow of the European Commission.
All cuts, all the attacks that are suffering the welfare State, that hard-won win the Spanish, are being
executed to satisfy the Troika and, thus, be worthy of receiving the new "Plan Merkel". No matter the inflicted suffering.
If something we're sobrados in this nation of wit, so I imagine that not much by some privileged mind will
have the occurrence to a 'remake' of the film of Berlanga, adapting it to the current reality of Hispanic and calling it
Welcome, Frau Merkel.
108
Thus, returns to choose Guadalix de la Sierra, in the madrilenian mountain, to serve as a stage. The writers, which
the Spanish Cinema is richly endowed, although it is not recognized by the general public, or, what is worse, by the
authorities, will make his long art gala.
………… ………… ………… ………… ………….
Thus, in the bland Villar del Rio will be notified that it is going to get the rescue that will save the patriotic goods,
custom in a Merkel Plan, with the blessing of the European Commission and all the Eagles and gulls the EU. The Mayor, a
good-natured of the Popular Party, as God intended, will look to the representative of the folk to know entertain how best
the European Commission. But since the game impose you an advisor. Hired to finger, paid for with public funds: an
octogenarian, father of a provincial Deputy, who once was in Germany and says to know it perfectly. He fought in the
Blue Division in favour of the troops of Hitler and believes to know how are the Germans. He suffers from slight
dementia, and seems to have forgotten that it has been more than seventy years.
Thus, this good counsel decreed that, to please Merkel, they must convert the unsalted Villar del Rio in a typical
village in the banks of the Rhine. They build papier-mâché facades emulating traditional Rhenish houses. They wear to
the most friendly girls with the German outfit and stand out its generous necklines, symbolizing that Hispanic uberrimas
udders are open to the thirsty teutonic mouths.
The role of the teacher will be entrusted (should be Vaseline who subsidizes) to the unparalleled María Dolores de
Cospedal. This was so far a demure and almost prudish teacher of Religion, plugged into the public school from the
bishopric. As soon as you get the post of President of the Organizing Committee, it dishevel and unveils the beast who
had been inside. Dying for dressing of tile and mantilla before the Merkel, it will try to indoctrinate his tender creatures of
the virtues of the Rhenish beer against harsh patriotic wine. It rant of the traditional Mediterranean diet, aberrations such
as the gazpacho and pisto La Mancha opposite the divine diet worthy of Nibelungen and Valkyries, sausages, burgers and
cooked cabbage. With the sponsorship of the Neocatechumenal Kiko it tested with its Cherubim a mystic chorus to
receive the European delegation.
They could be parallel scenes that are not in the original film. In the wake of the future arrival of German Manna,
we can see some of the characters of the Hispanic carcunda trying to take advantage of. The ineffable Esperanza, Madrid,
109
would appear in a scene playing golf with a Texas billionaire and pint of hampon. Bliss hope promises gold and the moro
to the mobster if it is brought to Villar del Río their shady businesses. It guarantees you whores more neat and helpful in
Europe for customers of its casinos. More burly thugs, as a goalkeeper. The slut of the mobster, MEW, will say to her
bestially that they clog views that will be taken from the Barajas airport from the resort. Esperanza, mysterious, smile
and tell you that everything will be...
In another scene we can see Andreita-fuck the Mayor asking that, given that it is going to rain of million, hired his
daddy that he built a new airport, Barajas is far: half an hour. And that when her hubby, a Bonbon of naphthalene, as
director of the Center for health, that he knows how to make the marinade.
…
In the sacristy of the Priory, Gallardon, sacristan of the pio, despotricaría before the vicar that their subjects don't
share with him that the rule is to distribute pain, that the common people does not understand that, according to the
credo of his ultra-Catholic sect, life is a valley of tears... for others, because for the followers and their friends of the soul,
it will be that... do not...
We will assist to the conversion of Villar del Río in traditional Rhineland village, where the wealthiest inhabitants
wear short pants with suspenders; headgear for the maidens.
And so the Merkel and their mamporreros not throw anything missing, according to the octogenarian Advisor, sit
at home, order forces wear the uniform of the SS. Officials, obese, unemployed, trade unionists, antisistemas,
disobedient ones and the rojerio whole, since they disfigure the landscape and upset with their banners and slogans, they
wear them with striped pajamas, put them a red star and convicts them in a concentration camp.
All together, prisoners included, be tested excited the "Germans, we welcome all you...", under the baton of the
promo De Cospedal, and prophesy with honeys that come from Europe and to justify cutbacks and sufferings to which the
homeland Government has subjected them.
Damn grace that made what had him live when he filmed his masterpiece to the eximious Berlanga. Damn grace
that makes me check how little we have changed. So... welcome, Frau Merkel.
Comentarios (2)
Blasi dice:
20 enero, 2013 a las 19:46
I hope that you remember me in the shooting of the film and I include in the "BARRETOKAGNAHS" among
the tasters of pitchers cerrveza national babaras. Thanks to the gods we still dream without cuts. A hug
Responder
Arístides Mínguez says :
o
20 enero, 2013 a las 20:57
Cuentag with eggso, mein Magister.
110
The only comment that can make Merkel look even more ludicrous than she has already made herself
look in front of the Spanish glance represented by Aristides, is to see how she looks in front of the eyes of
one of her most serious compatriots, the great thinker Max Weber, in some (somewhat lighter of course!)
paragraphs of his great classic “The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism”.
“Lighter paragrpaphs ” means Benjamin Franklin, I mean the particular line of his which, if it was not
part of his “confession of faith” (as Weber calls it) would be a killer joke. Here it is:
“He that can earn ten shillings a day by his labour, and goes abroad, or sits idle, one half of that day, though
he spends but sixpence during his diversion or idleness, ought not to reckon that the only expense; he has
really spent, or rather thrown away, five shillings besides.” .
There are some other things one would never believe if he didn’ see written with his own eyes, like “wealth
is not a sin, enjoying it is is a sin” , or that “wealth is made not to be enjoyed but for the glory of God, and
even if one is predestined for hell God allows him the joy of working for His glory while he lives” but
these are by memory, not verbatim, yet not needing some leafing to pinpoint them, but two of them are
worth some leafing to be mentioned verbatim: .
“…Baxter (Saints’ Everlasting Rest, chap. xii) explains God’s invisibility with the remark that just as one
can carry on profitable trade with an invisible foreigner through correspondence, so is it possible by means
of holy commerce with an invisible God to get possession of the one priceless pearl. These commercial
similes rather than the forensic ones customary with the older moralists and the Lutherans are thoroughly
characteristic of Puritanism, which in effect makes man buy his own salvation. Compare further the
following passage from a sermon: “We reckon the value of a thing by that which a wise man will give for
it, who is not ignorant of it nor under necessity. Christ, the Wisdom of God, gave Himself, His own
precious blood, to redeem souls, and He knew what they were and had no need of them” (Matthew Henry,
The Worth of the Soul,…”)
The last, with or without the presence of today’s ambience of markets, is just IN-CRE-DI-BLE:.
“The Reformed Christian, however, felt his own pulse with its aid. It is mentioned by all the moralists and
theologians, while Benjamin Franklin’s tabulated statistical book-keeping on his progress in the different
virtues is a classic example.On the other hand, the old medieval (even ancient) idea of God’s book-keeping
is carried by Bunyan to the characteristically tasteless extreme of comparing the relation of a sinner to his
God with that of customer and shopkeeper. One who has once got into debt may well, by the product of all
his virtuous acts, succeed in paying off the accumulated interest but never the principal”.
Some people think that the inhuman traits of some European trends (like slavetrade, inquisition,
conquistadore type of christianizers,piracy,…) are remnants of barbaric non Christian past, but the
existence of paragraphs like the above makes possible, if not plausible too, the conjecture that the brave
new civilization which the brave new civilizers considered worthy enough of their names to
advertise/export/impose was to reduce the new civilizees to the state of the predestined-for-hell state that
their version of Christianity made thinkable to them for themselves and this renders the new American
dream or European dream or Western dream, not tragic but hilariously pathetic and lamentable…
Maybe this is what our late friend Nick would tell us if in his working hours he had read Weber instead of
Mumford, maybe this is what we would have told him if at the time he described Europeans, the way we
saw he did, Merkel too and not just Bush and Rumsfeld had entered the scene of history, but in all cases
we already can hear, by the inner side of our eardrums, dialogs between us in Glossa, also joined by Hernán
and Aristides, going like: “I challenge you, wise teachers of our kids, and you Padre Alexis , to imagine
what a corrupt southern, like a Greek Orthodox Christian, would say to a corrupt southern like a Papal
Catholic Christian who sold those papers that were supposed to absolve the sins of somebody’s dead
relatives and transfer their souls from Hell to Paradise…” “Piece of cake…” “Wait, I didn’t finish: I also
ask you to imagine what a corrupt northern like a Protestant Christian would say to that same Papal
Catholic Christian for the same matter” “The orthodox would say “Why do they have to pay to enter
Paradise?”” “The protestant, at least the calvinist, would say “Why do they have to enter Paradise if they
pay?”” “Bravo! You are both hired. You really are good for our kids”. Then we would all comment
Franklin’s counting of shillings through the old joke about the stingy couple*: “Woman, today I saved
money by running after a bus instead of buying a ticket” “Next time run after a taxi to save more” or
through old scenes from our national comedian Thanasis Vengos arguing with a porter who had helped
him move to a new apartment “That much for half an hour? So in eight hours ….? So in a month….? So
in a year ….? Are you going to become a millionaire like Onasssis on my back?”
*(that my friend Dionysis who wrote books with mathematics, books with humor and books with both,
had once reminded me in a connection different from Franklin’s “time is money” doctrine. We’ll return)
111
OK, no hemos empezado incluso retomar el hilo de donde nos encontrábamos con las respuestas de Aristides y luego
de Nuria, no hemos visto aún un Resumen de las cartas intercambiadas entre nosotros tres en los días que las páginas se
escribieron o se pusieron juntos, OK, hacen que en otro pdf que sigue el presente pdfy no aquí, porque esto ya ha
alcanzado un número incómodo de KBs o MBs. Déjenos s terminar con una foto que resume de la mejor manera lo que
implica las páginas hasta el anterior y las páginas que veremos. Pero antes de hacerlo nos dejan ver lo que Hernán
respondió cuando recibió las páginas hasta aquí porque faltarán para rato:
Hernán he encontrado una manera algo más corto * a decirte lo que quiero decir. Eliminar los archivos PDF
de los dos últimos días y la hoja solamente de today\ y los de mañana o pasado mañana.
Ioannis estimado: he hojas todo como había sugerido. Creo que ahora tengo una idea general de lo que
buscan. Entiendo que viene otro pdf y estoy seguro que explicará más sus Actualidades. Estoy muy
contento para su recuperación, su entusiasmo y pasión, si alguna vez lo había perdido. Sé que su llamada
es Educación y enseñanza es emocionante para todos nosotros, deseo que mi comando de literatura era
mejor participar con usted y sus amigos de nuevo maestro y estudiantes. Desafortunadamente ahora
más problemas familiares requieren toda mi atención, me voy para Carolina del sur en un par
de días y no sé cuando volveré a nuevo México. Cuando las cosas se resuelven más aquí
escribiré como antes. Para ahora seré rápido leyendo sus comunicaciones pero si puedo ser de
ayuda estaré alegre intentar. Saludar y dar mi amor a Maria. Hermano Hernán
Hernán deseo buen coraje y fuerza en sus nuevos emprendimientos allí y ante todo deseo no son problemas
de salud o problemas como los que enfrentó hace unas semanas. Su apoyo y amistad ya es de mucha ayuda
y tanto sus sabios consejos y sus objeciones sabios será valiosos cualquier momento que usted puede darles
después de vuelta. Tienen un buen viaje. Besos a Natalie. Nuestro amor a los dos
* PD: Si un lector pregunta por qué no publicar sólo el camino más corto respondo que lo que ahora está
siendo leído es así más corto
OK, we haven’t even started resuming the thread of where we were with the answers from Aristides and then from
Nuria, we have not seen even a summary of the letters exchanged between us three in the days that the above pages
were being written or were being put together, OK, let’s do that in another pdf that continues the present pdf, and not
here, because this has already reached an inconvenient number of KBs or MBs. Let’s finish with a photo that
summarizes in the best way what is implied by the pages up to the previous and by the pages that we will see. But
before doing that let’s see what Hernán answered when he received the pages up to here because he will be missing
for some time:
Hernán I found a rather shorter way* to tell you what I mean. Delete the pdfs of the last two days and leaf
only today's plus the ones of tomorrow or of the day after tomorrow.
Dear Ioannis: I have leafed everything as you had suggested. I think now I have a general idea of what you
are trying. I understand another pdf is coming and I am sure you will explain further your current endeavors.
I am very glad for your regaining your enthusiasm and passion, if you ever had lost it. I know your call is
education and teaching is exciting for all of us, I wish my command of literature was better to participate with
you and your new found teacher friends and students. Unfortunately now more family problems require my
full attention, I am leaving for South Carolina in a couple of days and I am not sure when I will come back to
New Mexico.
When things are more settled here I shall write as before. For now I shall be fast reading your
communications but if I can be of any assistance I will be glad to try.
Say hello and give my love to Maria.
Brother Hernán.
Hernán I wish good courage and strength in your new endeavors there and most of all I wish they are not
health problems or problems like the ones you faced just a few weeks ago. Your support and friendship is
already much help and both your wise advice and your wise objections will be valuable any time you can
give them after you are back. Have a nice trip . Kisses to Natalie. Our love to both of you
*PS: If a reader wonders why I don’t post only the shorter way I answer that what is now being read is that
shorter way
112
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cwp-dcX75LA&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrLxb-DVAmw&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyGmvfJiJ-4
113

Three southerners of three little-differing generations in e

Transcripción

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