Whatever Happened to the Hero?

Whatever Happened to the Hero?

Mrs. Sanchez, having digested  my humble organ for once, has taken me to task for not writing much about the Romería last week except for 'all that baby nonsense'. 
I van tell you that it was a lot of fun as usual.

                                       

                           La Virgen de Flores passing a popular apartment block

             A mobile chiringuito (lots of pork products AND exercise).

 

                                   
                              The Jesús gang whooping it up at the El Señor chiringuito

                                        The IU paella (very nice too! and FREE)

Once The Virgin of the Flowers arrived at El Convento, almost everybody headed for one of the chiringuitos that had been set up. These are bars run by the hermandades and  cofradias, political parties and other groups trying to raise money.  They sell beer, refrescos (soft drinks), tinto de verano (red wine with fizzy lemonade),fino (a dry sherry drunk by real men) and water. Food is available too -  tortilla, paella, pinchos de gambas (prawns on a stick) etc. The routine is that you buy tickets to the value of what you want and then push your way through to the front (no queue) to trade in your tickets for food and drink. As the tickets are only valid at the chiringuito where you bought them you usually find a few unused tickets in your pocket the day after. It's all in a good cause, if you're fond of politics or religious processions. 
The best chiringuitos do a big paella which is very popular. We started off at 'El Capirote' which is run by the hermandad of Dolores Coronada, then we had a drink  at the Partido Popular bar (The Spanish Conservatives) and then another at the Izquierda Unida (United Left) to balance things up. The IU one was giving out free beer (and not just for the workers), olives and free paella. (We'll be voting for them at the next election). 

To round off the afternoon we went up to join the fun loving gang at the  El Señor de las Torres chiringuito which was heaving. Lots of flamenco, singing, dancing, eating and more drinking. 

This happens every year and I've never known it to rain. I don't know why they don't do it twice or three times a year. It always happens on the first Sunday after September 8th. if you want to book your flight early for next year.

Hundreds of happy pilgrims followed the vigin through town, turned left at the roundabout with the big arch, and surged up past Mercadona on route for El Convento which La Virgen de Flores calls home.

Just before they reached El Convento they passed La Venta de La Higuera. Ventas are restaurants which are usually found on  the roads between towns and villages. Most of them serve comidas caseras (home made traditional dishes) and are very popular at weekends. 
Next to the Venta La Higuera is La Fuente de La Higuera, a free flowing fountain where people used to queue up to fill containers with the spring water which flows from two pipes all day and night. I used to go up there with my plastic containers before dawn to avoid the crowds and still found a queue there . The water comes from deep inside the mountains and is regarded as the best in Álora. The tap water here is drinkable but it used to taste a bit like formaldehyde which gives a gin and tonic a bit of an 'off flavour ' and carries a whiff of the mortuary about it. It tastes all right these days but old habits die hard and people can still be seen filling up their bottles, containers and car boots with the stuff.

                                                  La Fuente de la Higuera

Last year someone noticed that the pipe that supplies the fountain is uncovered for some distance and is being polluted by a variety of unpleasant organic substances of animal origin. The ayuntamiento (town hall) decided that the water was a threat to public health and declared it 'no potable', which every Spanish person and millions of non Spaniards know to mean 'undrinkable' and they put up a sign to that affect. But you can't kid the Perotes. Many local people thought it was either a mistake or a hoax and continued to use the water for drinking. You can see a couple of people doing just that in the  photo. At considerable expense a much bigger sign was put up.

You can't get more explicit than this, in my opinion. It says,' Water not drinkable. Not suitable for human consumption.' It even has the official crest of Álora in the bottom left hand corner. Nah! must be a mistake.

That reminds me. Did I mention that we got our drains fixed? Turns out there was a 3 metre stretch with no pipe so it had all caved in. What a relief !

Yesterday Mrs Sánchez and I went to meet 'The Spanish Robin Hood'. He is Juan Miguel Sánchez Gordillo and he lives in Marinaleda a small rural  town 95km. (59 miles) from Álora where he has been the elected alcalde (mayor) since 1979 when the first local elections were held after the death of the Spain's best known dictator Generalisimo Francisco Franco. He is also a History teacher and leader of the political party Candidatura Unitaria de Trabajadores (Unitarian Candidacy of Workers)(CUT). Despite the similarity in name, looks and professional background Juan Sánchez has no familly connection with me nor with Mrs. Sánchez.

                                    Juan Miguel Sánchez Gordillo, Mayor of Marinaleda.

Since becoming alcalde of Marinaleda Sr. Sanchez has reduced unemployment to 5% (Spain's average is 25% and 34% in Andalucía). Everyone is paid the same wage, property is owned communally with no need for mortgages and there is no local police force. No wonder the Guardian newspaper described Marinaleda as a a 'communist utopia'.

In 2012 he led an attack on Carrefour and  Mercadona supermarkets in nearby Éjica and Aguilar de la Frontera where  supporters carried out a 'Supermarket Sweep' and 'confiscated' trolleyloads of basic foodstuffs which were then  redistributed among food banks. No wonder he gained the moniker 'The Spanish Robin Hood'. In 2013 he was sentenced to 7 months in prison for breaking into some unused land owned by the military, with the intention of using it for food production.

                                                              San- Che and his crew

Mrs. Sánchez and I were really looking forward to meeting 'San-Che' (geddit?) as we drove through Sevilla province in the baking heat of a September afternoon. Unfortunately we had left it a bit late (1.25pm.) and all the streets of Marinaleda were deserted. A very friendly lady interrupted her mopping to tell us where we could find the ayuntamiento (town hall). This was shut too. We should have made an appointment.

                                                 The town hall was closed

We looked around for a bar in case he was having his lunch break. The only one open was Bar Texas.. He wasn't there so we ordered drinks and had some fried calamares and asked the owner if Juan Sánchez was around.
'He doesn't come down here much', she told me, 'Try further up the road.' This wasn't specific enough for further serious investigation so we got back in the car and went home.

At the risk of over egging the pudding, dear reader, you might be interested in this little performance that Mrs. S and I witnessed in Casarabonela (once you learn how to say it you can't stop) last Sunday. Followng the great success of their village production of 'Scenes from the Spanish Inquisition' two years ago (see 'Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition'. 23rd. Sept 2013). Casarabonela (try saying it. It really does roll off the tongue once you've got it) has  cranked up its act, renamed the weekend 'Visperas', hired a van load of costumes and roped in nearly all the village for a massive 3 day event. (I was told the costume in the photo wasn't among those in the van).

 Last time we were there I was locked up and bought some cheese that I can still taste. This year every ounce of energy was put into staged episodes depicting  a visit by the Spanish Inqisition in 1569. Some people like dressing up a bit too much, I feel. Next year's performance is going to be called 'Heretic Pride'.

Mrs. Sánchez and I arrived a bit early so off  we went  to Cafe Nuevo and had some delicious Conejo con Ajo  (Rabbit and chips) (sorry Clive). By the time we emerged it was nearly all over so we just watched the 'curtain calls' (which lasted half and hour) and went home. No sign of a cheese stall this year. 

                                          Everyone  gave a bow - all 321 of them

                                                Lots of chairs but no cheese!

An English neighbour of ours turned up at his holiday home  last week without telling the chap who was looking after his house for him. It was being used as a marijuana farm.

He wasn't sure how to proceed so he went to the Manhatten Bar down by the station where he was advised, so I'm told, to call in the Guardia Civil in a few days. The caretaker has not been seen recently.  

Juanito Sanchez. September 26th. 2015