The English Cemetery
basque
Places where it's hip to be square
The WSJ piece attacking the Basque language has ignited a long tail of reactions. Summarizing: the original article's here, an account of the outrage, some replies are linked in my own post, the WSJ itself published some reply letters, and then there's also a big protest letter signed by 180 personalities.
Well, fortunately, not all foreign accounts about modern Basque living in the international media are so negative. Commonly, it's more about the marvels of Guggenheim (in the New York Times, last september), or delightful gastronomy (just past week in the NYT, again).
My favourite one, however, was written for Slate in 2003. Adventures in Basqueland by June Thomas was a nice piece of reporting, I think. June wrote about what she found amusing, and did so in a descriptive but personal way. This lovely paragraph, for instance:
It's also amusing for us finding that what we might consider standard amuses the foreigner...
Well, fortunately, not all foreign accounts about modern Basque living in the international media are so negative. Commonly, it's more about the marvels of Guggenheim (in the New York Times, last september), or delightful gastronomy (just past week in the NYT, again).
My favourite one, however, was written for Slate in 2003. Adventures in Basqueland by June Thomas was a nice piece of reporting, I think. June wrote about what she found amusing, and did so in a descriptive but personal way. This lovely paragraph, for instance:
Every day, groups performing styles of traditional regional music known as trikitrixa, alboka, and gaita tour the original seven streets of the Casco Viejo. Although some, especially the choral groups, tend to be dominated by graybeards, others are composed of twentysomething scenesters. Here and in the dances of the Basque Country performed every evening in the Plaza Nueva, I was shocked by how hip the artists were. Several of the young women playing medieval music on authentic instruments or dancing a jota had facial piercings; the guys with bells tied round their knees doing the sword dance while wearing big goofy red berets were cool kids with tattoos and novelty sideburns. In the Basque Country these days, it seems, it's hip to be square.
It's also amusing for us finding that what we might consider standard amuses the foreigner...
The Wall Street Journal says Basque isn't used in real life
The Wall Street Journal has decided to insult Basque speakers. What a shame of an article. It's hard to be a minority language speaker, precisely when it's minoritised even in your own land... And yet, looks as if Spanish speakers are the ones being persecuted by Inquisition. No. It's Spanish Inquisition the one that in the 21st century decided to close the only Basque-language daily newspaper, based in false accusations. As false as all content in that article.
Of course, the journalist got collaboration from local idiots. "Euskera just isn't used in real life", says a member of the Basque Parliament. If you're reading this here, you may follow the links to my Basque blog, this public discussion about the Guggenheim Bilbao or the Wikipedia. I hope that proves that Basque is at least used in virtual life.
Besides, the news item in the web mentions a correction regarding that map. Spain's Basque Country, at its widest point, spans approximately 85 miles, or 136.8 kilometers. A map that accompanied a previous version of this article had an incorrect scale. I wonder what they showed previously. But masquarading the Basque Country's map as the Hoped-for Basque homeland shows the political intent of the report.
Not all Basque maps published by American media are so deceptive. This map below was published by the National Geographic Magazine in 1997. Well, that's Euskal Herria. And Euskal Herria means (not difficult to grasp) Basque Country = Pays Basque = País Vasco.
Of course, the journalist got collaboration from local idiots. "Euskera just isn't used in real life", says a member of the Basque Parliament. If you're reading this here, you may follow the links to my Basque blog, this public discussion about the Guggenheim Bilbao or the Wikipedia. I hope that proves that Basque is at least used in virtual life.
Besides, the news item in the web mentions a correction regarding that map. Spain's Basque Country, at its widest point, spans approximately 85 miles, or 136.8 kilometers. A map that accompanied a previous version of this article had an incorrect scale. I wonder what they showed previously. But masquarading the Basque Country's map as the Hoped-for Basque homeland shows the political intent of the report.
Not all Basque maps published by American media are so deceptive. This map below was published by the National Geographic Magazine in 1997. Well, that's Euskal Herria. And Euskal Herria means (not difficult to grasp) Basque Country = Pays Basque = País Vasco.
Monolingual Basques in Ellis Island
The New York Times opens its content. No more paid access to their archives. Good news, and already people have put it in use. I see references in Kottke. A similar attempt was carried in the Basque newspaper Berria: they found and portrayed a curious story from 1911, of a group of 150 inmigrants that arrived into Ellis Island with Basque as their only language spoken. Somehow, they manage for communication, hopefully, and then they headed for Idaho.
Attracted by the story, I researched a little bit more in EllisIsland.org. And I found partial records and names of those monolingual Basqques that arrived in that ship, La Touraine, in March 1911.
It's not easy to search for people arriving on a certain date. You have to search for a name... Try with Bustengorry here.
In the results, the ship manifest lets you see the list of people arriving, but I doubt if you get the whole document or the portion where the given name (Bustengorry in our case) appears. But, well, I found people that arrived that day of march, unnamed in the NYT, but now finally public
Attracted by the story, I researched a little bit more in EllisIsland.org. And I found partial records and names of those monolingual Basqques that arrived in that ship, La Touraine, in March 1911.
It's not easy to search for people arriving on a certain date. You have to search for a name... Try with Bustengorry here.
In the results, the ship manifest lets you see the list of people arriving, but I doubt if you get the whole document or the portion where the given name (Bustengorry in our case) appears. But, well, I found people that arrived that day of march, unnamed in the NYT, but now finally public
- Jean Bustengorry (we would write Buztingorri now, in normalised Basque), from Baigorri
- Jean Etchegarray (Etxegarai), of Banka
- Marie Indiana (probably it's Inda), from Aldude
- Benito Maya (Maia), of Senpere
- and more
The bombings of Durango and Gernika
This weekend was the 70th aniversary of the bombardment of Durango, March 31st, 1937. By some accounts, it was the first time in Europe when the aerial bombardment of civilian urban areas was carried. It was Italian bombers which carried the attack, under the command of Spanish generals Francisco Franco and Emilio Mola.
Some 300 people died in Durango that morning. My father survived, without injuries, surrounded by debris, in the middle of Ezkurdi square, right here. Then a teenager, now he's 85 years old, and he's quite well at his age, he remains an avid reader of history books. Memory and history have retained the name of Guernica (Gernika), the city destroyed by a similar bombing some weeks later (april 26th), although the number of mortal victims was probable lower in Gernika than in Durango. However, not just italians, but Nazi germans of the Condor Legion of the Luftwaffe took part on that attack, and the physical destruction of the city was bigger.
Germany has apologized for Gernika. I haven't heard a word from the army of Mola and Franco, the Spanish army.
Ten years ago, I was a journalist for Basque newspaper Euskaldunon Egunkaria, and I wrote (together with Basque historian Josu Chueca) a report about Durango, using, among others, the direct account of my father (I showed little modesty, you see). That series of reports about the Spanish Civil War in the Basque Country was converted into a book by Egunkaria. Then, in 2004, Spanish judges closed Egunkaria: the material written content of that newspaper, including my half-book, remain hijacked by the judge. No, that's not Turkey, it's the European Union, basque newspapers are closed under unproved accusations of terrorism, it's former directors were tortured... Three years later, not a single evidence of links to terrorism have surfaced anywhere.
The perpetrators of Durango's and Gernika's bombings still have streets named after them in Spain.
Great and well documented Flash reconstruction here: the criminal Bizkaia campaign carried by fascist forces in the spring of 1937, one of the darkest moments of the Spanish Civil war.
Some 300 people died in Durango that morning. My father survived, without injuries, surrounded by debris, in the middle of Ezkurdi square, right here. Then a teenager, now he's 85 years old, and he's quite well at his age, he remains an avid reader of history books. Memory and history have retained the name of Guernica (Gernika), the city destroyed by a similar bombing some weeks later (april 26th), although the number of mortal victims was probable lower in Gernika than in Durango. However, not just italians, but Nazi germans of the Condor Legion of the Luftwaffe took part on that attack, and the physical destruction of the city was bigger.
Germany has apologized for Gernika. I haven't heard a word from the army of Mola and Franco, the Spanish army.
Ten years ago, I was a journalist for Basque newspaper Euskaldunon Egunkaria, and I wrote (together with Basque historian Josu Chueca) a report about Durango, using, among others, the direct account of my father (I showed little modesty, you see). That series of reports about the Spanish Civil War in the Basque Country was converted into a book by Egunkaria. Then, in 2004, Spanish judges closed Egunkaria: the material written content of that newspaper, including my half-book, remain hijacked by the judge. No, that's not Turkey, it's the European Union, basque newspapers are closed under unproved accusations of terrorism, it's former directors were tortured... Three years later, not a single evidence of links to terrorism have surfaced anywhere.
The perpetrators of Durango's and Gernika's bombings still have streets named after them in Spain.
Great and well documented Flash reconstruction here: the criminal Bizkaia campaign carried by fascist forces in the spring of 1937, one of the darkest moments of the Spanish Civil war.
Aim big
The 5th anniversary of Sustatu, the Basque Slashdot, was nice. And reviews have been positive afterwards, more positive than in the other European tech event of the week, LeWeb 3 with Loic Le Meur, where opinions seem to be unanimous.
It was a bilingual event, all in Basque, including the Ubuntu Linux, OpenOffice and Firefox software used for presentations, except Ed Freyfogle's (ex Yahoo, now Lokku/Nestoria) speech and frantic 80-slide presentation, shown in mere 10 minutes of English talk. Yet, the mixture of the languages was perfect, and the tone, which began provocatively with Ed, followed that line with Iban Zaldua, a local writer and blogger, and myself. Ed called the audience, you, the leaders of Internet in Euskal Herria (Basque Country).
Were we that, really? A bunch of friends, maybe, those 100 people that attended, people that suspect Internet is big, and care about our country. Leaders or not, we took good note of Ed's advice:
Ed's presentation is here, and the rest in Basque as well. Thank you, Nestoria, for celebrating with us. We enjoyed you presence, and I suspect that the whole team of that company enjoyed the Basque Country as well: there's graphic evidence of that (location of the surfspot: Sopela).
It was a bilingual event, all in Basque, including the Ubuntu Linux, OpenOffice and Firefox software used for presentations, except Ed Freyfogle's (ex Yahoo, now Lokku/Nestoria) speech and frantic 80-slide presentation, shown in mere 10 minutes of English talk. Yet, the mixture of the languages was perfect, and the tone, which began provocatively with Ed, followed that line with Iban Zaldua, a local writer and blogger, and myself. Ed called the audience, you, the leaders of Internet in Euskal Herria (Basque Country).
Were we that, really? A bunch of friends, maybe, those 100 people that attended, people that suspect Internet is big, and care about our country. Leaders or not, we took good note of Ed's advice:
- aim big
- focus on whatever is most important, forget the rest
- measure twice, cut once
- Chinese are cheaper, therefore we should hire them.
Ed's presentation is here, and the rest in Basque as well. Thank you, Nestoria, for celebrating with us. We enjoyed you presence, and I suspect that the whole team of that company enjoyed the Basque Country as well: there's graphic evidence of that (location of the surfspot: Sopela).
Basque-only results with Google Custom Search
Google's new big offering Google Custom Search will create thousands of specialized vertical search sites or aggregated search engines. More clicks in ads for webmasters and Google Inc.
Reaching all Basque content in that customized search will be impossible. But Pareto's law may apply, cover 10% of sites, get 70% of most interesting content. At least of those sites that are monolingual (they tend to be more focused on delivering quality content that those based on translation), host most stuff, are renewed more consistently...
Basque ergativity: murder is just transitive death
I'll try to explain ergative construction today. I owe this to Wheylona, american blogger in Donostia who's trying to learn Basque. Ergativity is a feature of Basque grammar that might be considered odd by speakers of surrounding European languages. However, it's a feature documented by other languages in the world (unrelated to Basque) like Georgian or Chechen, for instance.
OK. Well, ergativity is, as the Wikipedia puts it, this: an ergative language maintains an equivalence between the object of a transitive verb and the subject of an intransitive verb, while treating the agent of a transitive verb differently.
I have read strange examples of how this applies to everyday language. Steven Pinker, well known linguist with a brilliant Chomskyan book, The Language Instict, put it this way: as ergative languages mark the object of an transtitive action (I saw her) the same way as the subject of an intransitive action, therefore they say something like ran her, for she ran.
But both Wikipedia's definition and Pinker's example sound totally alien to me. Ergative construction must look really odd to everybody following that. So, I'll give an example of mine. Perhaps my own explanation will be as strange (and surely not as accurate) as those, but, I'll try anyway.
Wheylona happens to deal with dead bears in her Basque lessons... I'll use a dead parrot, instead. More geek and funny than dead bears, I guess.
It happens that, in Basque, to die and to kill are the same verb. Although there are synonims that do not coincide with both meaning, the most common form hil means both things. That's easy to explain if you speak an ergative language, because murder, at the end, is just transitive death. Or ergative death...
It's easy to transform the decease into a crime:
-k is the usual ergative marking case. It marks the agent ot the verb.
We may just reverse the actors of the drama:
In accusative language like the ones around us, they tell us, using their accusative logic, that in a) the parrot is the subject, and in c), it becomes the direct object. It is a dead parrot, but somehow, it raises like a zombie from its subject position to occupy a different grammatical niche.
In Basque there are no zombie parrots. The parrot is dead in a), and it's in the same inert and dead position in c), with no declension mark at all neither when it's the alleged subject (a) nor when the indoeuropean linguists declare it to be a direct object (c). What happens is that there's an agent of death now in c), John Cleese, who enters into the scene elegantly dressed in ergative. Why should the parrot have a different grammatical role now? Yet, that's how non-Basque europeans see this: the c)-parrot is not the same as the a)-parrot. Nonsense.
So, what if the parrot committed suicide? Agent and object are the same then... That's easy and logic in Basque:
Other Basque verbs also show this behaviour. Sartu: to enter, to put into.
The cat enters in both cases. You poor accusative-thinking indoeuropeans pretend to see a subject in one case, and an object in the other. We see an absolute cat in both cases; absolute being the name of the grammatical case... no mark at all, in contrast to ergative -k marking.
Is it all clear now?
OK. Well, ergativity is, as the Wikipedia puts it, this: an ergative language maintains an equivalence between the object of a transitive verb and the subject of an intransitive verb, while treating the agent of a transitive verb differently.
I have read strange examples of how this applies to everyday language. Steven Pinker, well known linguist with a brilliant Chomskyan book, The Language Instict, put it this way: as ergative languages mark the object of an transtitive action (I saw her) the same way as the subject of an intransitive action, therefore they say something like ran her, for she ran.
But both Wikipedia's definition and Pinker's example sound totally alien to me. Ergative construction must look really odd to everybody following that. So, I'll give an example of mine. Perhaps my own explanation will be as strange (and surely not as accurate) as those, but, I'll try anyway.
Wheylona happens to deal with dead bears in her Basque lessons... I'll use a dead parrot, instead. More geek and funny than dead bears, I guess.
It happens that, in Basque, to die and to kill are the same verb. Although there are synonims that do not coincide with both meaning, the most common form hil means both things. That's easy to explain if you speak an ergative language, because murder, at the end, is just transitive death. Or ergative death...
a) Loroa hil da - Parrot-the DIE has. The parrot's dead. More accurately, the parrot has died.
It's easy to transform the decease into a crime:
b) Loroa nik hil dut - Parrot-the I-erg.mark DIE I-have-it. I've killed the parrot.
c) Loroa John Cleesek hil du. Parrot-the John Cleese-erg.mark Die he-has-it. John Cleese has killed the parrot.
-k is the usual ergative marking case. It marks the agent ot the verb.
We may just reverse the actors of the drama:
d) Loroak John Cleese hil du - Parrot-the-erg.mark John Clese DIE he-has-it. The parrot has killed John Cleese.
In accusative language like the ones around us, they tell us, using their accusative logic, that in a) the parrot is the subject, and in c), it becomes the direct object. It is a dead parrot, but somehow, it raises like a zombie from its subject position to occupy a different grammatical niche.
In Basque there are no zombie parrots. The parrot is dead in a), and it's in the same inert and dead position in c), with no declension mark at all neither when it's the alleged subject (a) nor when the indoeuropean linguists declare it to be a direct object (c). What happens is that there's an agent of death now in c), John Cleese, who enters into the scene elegantly dressed in ergative. Why should the parrot have a different grammatical role now? Yet, that's how non-Basque europeans see this: the c)-parrot is not the same as the a)-parrot. Nonsense.
e) Nor hil da? Loroa. Who die has? Parrot-the. Who's dead? the parrot.
f) Nork hil du? John Cleesek. Who-erg.mark die has-it? John Cleese-erg.mark. Who killed him? John Cleese did!
So, what if the parrot committed suicide? Agent and object are the same then... That's easy and logic in Basque:
g) Loroak bere burua hil du. Parrot-the-erg.mark his head-the die he-has-it. The parrot killed his head, that is, the parrot killed himself.
Other Basque verbs also show this behaviour. Sartu: to enter, to put into.
h) Katua etxean sartu da. Cat-the house-the-in enter has. The cat entered into the house.
i) Katua etxean sartu du txakurrak. Cat-the house-the-in enter it-has-it dog-the-erg.mark: the dog has put the cat into the house.
The cat enters in both cases. You poor accusative-thinking indoeuropeans pretend to see a subject in one case, and an object in the other. We see an absolute cat in both cases; absolute being the name of the grammatical case... no mark at all, in contrast to ergative -k marking.
Is it all clear now?
