Pepe and Mauricio were two of Sally's students who took us out for the
day. Pepe was small, in his
early 30s, big smile, glasses, dark strands of hair sweeping over his
balding head. Mauricio was younger, had big, sloppy features and
a heart-shaped face. They were both very enthusiastic
about learning English and having a day out to practise.
They could not have been sweeter. The first stop as we drove to the country was a town called Cabezon de la Sal - big head of salt - they translated laughing. We stopped for "blancos" (the small glasses of white wine served at room temperature that were typically taken before lunch)and "champinones a la plancha (mushrooms chopped very fine and cooked very fast on a very hot griddle with garlic.) The mushrooms were cooked to perfection, each tiny piece seared and utterly juicy.
Next they brought us to Santillana del Mar - again they laughed over the translation because the town was nowhere near the sea. Santillana, with curved, red roof-tiles, stone walls, cobbled streets, little passage-ways containing suspicious old women in black and in the middle, in what used to be the fort, a tasteful store selling exclusive furnishings, ceramics and linens from as far away as India and Japan.
A few weeks after our happy, happy day out with this jocular duo, Sally
came home a little flustered. She had noticed that Mauricio was wearing a
tiny badge in class - red with a black insignia. She thought that it
indicated that he belonged to the Fuerza Nueva - a fascist youth group.
On Saturday she insisted I go with her down to the square in the town
where the group put up their table and leaflets full of hate right next
to the post of two members of the Guardia Civil. The Civil Guards alarmed me because
they stood in the street with submachine guns and seemed ready to
reinstate military rule at the slightest hint of unrest. And since the
Fuerza Nueva could put their table so close, it seemed that the unrest
they were waiting for was that of the left, of socialists, of feminists,
of people like us.
Sally and I looked at the stall from a safe distance. As well as pamphlets it appeared that there were small black and red badges. Sally was incensed. When we met up with Pilar and Mercedes she told them she was convinced Mauricio was a fascist. She didn't want him in her class. They took the matter seriously. Mercedes said she should keep silent, not reveal her politics, and avoid him as much as possible.
Although he repeatedly asked us out we never went. Sometimes, when he saw us out with Pilar and Mercedes he would look darkly at them. Mercedes said he even stopped saying hallo when he saw her at school.
Other memories jogged by this photo. Further memories. This Photo. All the Photos
Trail - Spain
Photos in Chronological Order
Map/Diagram of Story Elements