Australia in the world

In the world maps I have seen here, Australia appears in the centre. In our maps, in an effort to make anything round two-dimensional, Australia looks as if it is turning around on its axis (while New Zealand incidentally is positioned sideways). It’s no wonder that Australians are annoyed that no one realizes “how big Australia is”.

 Now I’m not going to get into whether the inhabitants of such a small portion of living space should finally get the newsflash on Australia’s actual size in relation to the rest of the world. Closer to home, these sort of debates over population density are to blame for a vote from the Teruel* electoral district counting more than a vote from the Madrilenian one in deciding the fate of Spanish government. So I’ll limit myself to merely showing this poster, which I’ve seen adorning the office walls of many of my colleagues here. It never fails to amuse me.

Australia is a country of 22 million habitants with one of lowest population densities in the world.

*Teruel, despite having one of the smallest populations in Spain, benefits from the fact that under Spanish electoral law, all provinces are entitled to a minimum of 2 seats with a remaining 248 seats apportioned according to population. Consequently, smaller provinces like Teruel have been overrepresented at the expense of larger provinces and Teruel has gained the reputation of being a political trendsetter or bellwether ( to toss in a fancy word) as it were. 

Original Spanish Entry

Off to school on horseback

My workmate who sits next to me showed me this news article today with the caption “Melbourne School Captain (1) exercises the historic right [granted by the school’s laws] to take his horse to school (2)”. Well there are plenty of doubts that spring to mind but one thing’s for sure: it must be truly impressive to park your horse at the gate (3) before heading into English class. (4).


(1): The School Captain is a student elected by their peers or Student Council to be…. well what exactly?? It’s like being the head of something without any actual power or authority, a figurehead – let’s be honest not unlike a King. I think the captains are generally between 12-16 years of age.
(2): The reactions of the people around to me to this story have been non-existent. There’s a certain acceptance here for longstanding laws which means that they don’t exactly get very excited over newspaper headlines.
(3): This would really create a stir- not unlike the time my (former) friend Avo, at 12 years of age, rocked up to school with Reebok Pumps (1990) and simply let us discover that he had them by ourselves.
(4): There are 3 school laws which come with the honour: the right to grow a beard and the right to bring one’s wife to official school functions are the other two besides the horse riding.

Living in the hotel from Barton Fink

Not having seen Barton Fink is not reason enough to not read this post. The photo is from the movie ( no, it isn’t me). I know that the problem lies with the title as it’s not a well-known film. But if you only knew the hotel where I was staying (and if you had seen the film) you wouldn’t fail to make the connection between the two.

I’m staying in a place with dark corridors, unsettling presences, Asian managers and lots and lots of carpet. The first and last things need no further explanation- at the end of the day Australia still has the Queen of England on her dollar bills. I’m not saying that about the Asian managers to be racist-it just reminds me of Blade Runner (and if you don’t get this reference, you’ll have to watch Blade Runner again). But instead of talking about synthetic eyes, let’s talk about the very little time I’m going to stay here. And about those unsettling presences because I’ve been hearing doors open and shutting, showers and washing machines running, but I’ve never seen anyone. So that’s why I feel like John Turturro from Barton Fink, but with my sanity intact. Well now that I have heard something new- knocks on my door. It could be Nicole Kidman with her deathly pale photosensitive children looking for cousins the same shade as them (or me for that matter), but no it was an AUSTRALIAN. One of those young men who drink a whole litre of milk each morning and wipe their moustache with their sleeve and then show you their smile with a set of perfect set of teeth. He told me something that I didn’t understand but he had my mobile in his hand. I had left it in the kitchen and he was returning it to me.

PS Just in case my parents read this and in answer to their inevitable questions: My room is big, it’s in a fantastic area, the shower heat and pressure are top-notch and I haven’t had to buy anything that I’ll be leaving behind such as blankets or plates, and no they aren’t making life difficult for me so I’ll leave here so quickly. Well, they’ll also ask why it’s like the Barton Fink hotel.

Original Spanish Entry

Zombie Day aka Melbourne Zombie Shuffle

On October 30 like in previous years, thousands of young people and not so young people from Melbourne gather to celebrate the Melbourne Zombie Shuffle.



The zombies did their shuffle on the footpaths of Melbourne, enthusiastically tackling the unfavourable weather conditions, much to the delight of the inhabitants of this city who are pretty unaccustomed to the outbreak of zombie behaviour.


Melbournians could see all types of zombies, from the living dead who simply dragged their feet while chatting with their friends to cult characters such as the Zombie Nun and hundreds of Blood Splattered Brides.



Alongside them were other characters that had never been seen before in zombie roles such as the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz, Charlie Chaplin and Superman.


Nevertheless, those in the greatest majority were the ones walking to the beat of Thriller, the official anthem of this ever growing group.





The gathering ended in the “city’s nerve centre”, Federation Square, with a protest speech whose basic points(cries for an increase in welfare allowances and subsidies for buying textbooks) were no different from speeches given in previous years.

Photos from top to bottom:

Zombies crossing at the traffic lights. Zombies waiting for the bus. Zombies posing for photos for Japanese tourists. Zombies (one of them dressed as the character Walter White from Breaking Bad) followed by extras from Eyes Wide Shut. Zombies. A zombie and his highly amused onlooker.

Fighting against the very Spanish feeling of distrust

I am Spanish. When I was a kid, just to make it across the park to my school without any major incidents I had to pay an older kid 25 pesetas.  As this blackmail took place, he didn’t even bother to get off his bike in order to carry it out. Many years later, they stole my bike in Sevilla. It was on the balcony of a very high first floor. C’mon, they must have used a crane to get it.

And now I find myself in “Pleasantville” where:

• No one would think to steal your bike seat, much less lock their own bikes
• In libraries, people go outside for a smoke and leave their laptops on top of the table
• Women in bars leave their bags on tables wide open for all the world to see. Yes, I know this happens in other countries but I’ve only visited those places not lived there.

And just like it happened in “Pleasantville”, I am only making things worse here. I don’t rob but I can’t believe that I won’t get robbed. And I’m afraid that my distrust will spread like a virus. My landlord (the Asian man) instead of giving me the bank account details, told me to place the rent for the month in an envelope under the door of his office on the premises - a door that Macguyer could open with a simple huff and puff. I told him that I’d feel much less uneasy if I could put it in an account, to which he replied: “Everyone here puts it underneath the door.” And me, the fool that I am, told him even more firmly that I’d really rather put it in the bank. What a fool for saying that. I am genetically incapable of leaving hundreds of dollars underneath a door and then feeling relaxed about it. But I am working on it. Perhaps in a few weeks’ time I’ll be able to shower without locking the door to my room.

P.S You have to watch Pleasantville, just be patient with the first 10 minutes of it.

Original Spanish Entry

The formality of informality

Ironing like many other social conventions is nothing more than remnant of something that had to be done for the sake of hygiene and it makes no sense to keep on doing it today. The iron was used to kill bugs that lived in the clothing. They’re not there anymore. Washing machines, better fabrics and personal hygiene have made the iron unnecessary. But just as we say “Jesus” each time someone sneezes, ironing your clothes has remained as a sign of having had a good upbringing.

Here, the fact is that very few people bother to iron.

But it is not only that. My boss at work, turns up each day in his cycling kit ( possibly the least flattering outfit for its wearer), and then shortly after he reappears wearing a shirt that is halfway between one that they give you for participating in a race and those that they give you for  becoming a member of Manos Unidas ( A Spanish NGO). Of course, it’s un-ironed.

The cliché of the laidback Aussie is true (The Australian surfer turtles from Finding Nemo are obvious examples). The funny thing is not how Aussies act. No. It’s how they do whatever they bloody well feel like. That’s the norm here and it’s reflected in their personal grooming at work. The ones that wear shirts are wearing them because they like wearing them. The guys that shave, I imagine they do it because the extra facial hair annoys them (my boss has an impeccably shaved head). Those that wear closed-toed shoes do so because they prefer them to sandals ( another one of the bosses wears his fedora hat while he works; and I never ever seen the hair of one of the girl here because it’s always underneath headscarves; and unsurprisingly many of them here never wear long pants). And some of them iron their clothes.

And it seems that the norm is that there is no norm. They only dress in a uniform way when they go to a costume party, not when they go to work. After all, they go to work each day and it’d take much too much time and effort to wear clothes that they didn’t feel like wearing.

Original Spanish Entry